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“Well, you can’t!” Mabel wiped at her eyes. “If I want to get hurt, that’s my business.”
“Mabel,” Evie tried. “This isn’t you.”
Mabel grabbed her purse and stood up. “You haven’t known who I am for some time, Evie.”
A miserable Evie sat alone, stirring the undrinkable cocoa. What she’d done had been awful; she knew that. But she couldn’t unknow what she’d discovered about Arthur Brown, either. And now Mabel hated her for it. Maybe what Evie had seen had been from long ago. But Evie couldn’t let it alone yet—not with Mabel’s happiness in the balance. It was time to have a talk with Arthur Brown.
At Evie’s knock, Arthur opened his door wearing only trousers and his undershirt. He was sinewy and handsome in a rugged way. Evie could see why he had swept Mabel off her feet. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb with a bemused smile that irked Evie immediately.
“I don’t remember ordering any Fuller brushes or Bibles,” he said. “Shop’s downstairs, miss. In case you’re lost.”
“Arthur Brown?”
Arthur’s expression went from smiling to wary. “Who wants to know?”
“I’m Evie O’Neill. Mabel’s best friend.”
Arthur laughed. “Well, well, well. The Sweetheart Seer herself. To what do I owe this honor?” He threw a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t think I have any ghosts hiding in my humble abode, but you’re welcome to check.”
Evie balled her fists at her sides. He was being contemptuous, but for Mabel’s sake, she’d swallow her pride. “This won’t take long, Mr. Brown. I wanted to tell you that… that I read something that belonged to you. It was very informative.”
Arthur laughed. “Yeah? I don’t go for that Diviner hocus-pocus.”
“You might if you’d seen what I did. You and a government agent? A man in a brown hat? He had some very interesting things to say to you.”
Arthur stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed, and for a minute, Evie felt afraid.
“Oh, yeah? How’d you get something of mine to read, anyway?”
“I-I took it from Mabel’s room when she wasn’t looking,” Evie lied.
“What a fine friend you are.”
“The point is, I know you’re in trouble with the Bureau of Investigation. I know you’re lying about who you are.”
“That so? Sorry, Miss O’Neill. Like I said, I don’t put much stock in Diviner visions.”
He was trying to be offhanded about it, but Evie could tell he was nervous.
“I only wanted to say that if you do anything to hurt my friend, I’ll come after you. I swear I will.”
Arthur saluted her. “Duly noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of getting dressed. So long, Miss O’Neill.”
Arthur tried to shut the door. Evie stuck her foot inside, blocking it. “Please don’t hurt Mabel,” she said a little desperately. “She’s good. And kind. All she wants is to help people. She’s the best person I know.”
Arthur stopped looking smug. “I’ll look out for her, Miss O’Neill. I promise,” he said softly. “You’re not the only one who loves her.”
MISSING MASS
Alma and Ling sat in the cramped Tin Pan Alley music room waiting for the phone to ring, even though it hadn’t for several hours. Ling rested her cheek against her fist, staring at the wall. Alma played the same three notes on the piano. They’d been spending more time together lately, going to the pictures or stopping at the confectionery to share an ice-cream sundae. Ling had come to look forward to their time together. But today she was distracted. She couldn’t stop seeing those twins’ ghostly faces. How confused they were. How scared. It gnawed at Ling’s conscience. What were they doing? This hunting and interrogating ghosts hadn’t gotten them any definitive answers, just more riddles. The whole quest felt more like an elaborate game designed to keep them busy.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” Alma asked Ling at last.
“Atoms.”
Alma raised her eyebrows. “Uh-huh.”
“We’re all collections of atoms. All of us. But what happens to those atoms after we die? Does our matter become a different energy? Is that what ghosts are? And is that energy a soul, or is it only an echo of a human?”
