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Allie’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar gravelly voice that she was beginning to dread. “Forty-eight hours isn’t nearly enough time to prepare for a proper séance, but I suppose we’ll just have to make do.”
Phoebe kept popp
ing back up some like some evil jack-in-the-box. Still, if she could get this séance off the ground, Allie would personally buy her a year’s supply of her favorite cigarettes. Allie frowned. That seemed a little…uncharitable of her. She’d get Phoebe a year’s supply of nicotine patches, instead.
“Do you really think you can make contact with the ghost through a séance?” Allie asked. “I mean, are those for real?”
“Of course they’re for real. This being, whoever he may have been in life, has made contact for a reason and we need to get to the bottom of it. From what my brother tells me the ghost has only recently made himself known, which means something’s got his tighty whities twisted in a wad.” Phoebe glared at the large Demolition in Progress sign in front of the senior center door. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that something is.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Phoebe said. “In case you weren’t aware, I am the area’s leading ghost expert.”
“Then why didn’t your brother go to you directly with this? Why send me an anonymous email signed Concerned Citizen?”
Phoebe’s face clouded over. “Who knows why Roger does anything these days? Maybe he’s off his meds.”
Allie wasn’t sure what that meant, but despite her mixed emotions at the morning’s events, she began to feel hopeful. A séance. An honest to God séance. Whatever else happened, ghost or no ghost, this was a story she could run with.
*~*~*
The crowd had thinned down by the time Allie made it back inside the senior center. She watched as Tom deflated the air mattress, folded it into a square then punched it back inside the bag to make it fit. He glanced up to see Allie standing over him.
“What made Steve Pappas give us the extension? I mean, is everything going to be okay with your job?”
“Sure, everything’s fine.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense to go ahead with the demolition if we’re going to have to fight half the town to do it. Steve Pappas knows it’s good PR to hold off for a couple days. That way, everyone ends up happy.” He sounded convincing enough, but there was that twitchy thing he did with his mouth that made Allie think he wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with her.
“Look, I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done trying to help me with this ghost story, even though you’re not a believer and you have your own agenda here. So I was thinking, maybe we can start over? If this ghost exists, then I want to flush him out so I can write my story. And obviously, that’s in your best interest, too, because once we do that then there can’t be any more objections to the building coming down.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I don’t see why we can’t be on friendlier terms.”
“Friendlier?”
“Not like this morning friendly, which for the record, I did not initiate. I just think we should be partners.”
“So now we’re the two musketeers? Did you really buy that little show out there? A ghost on top of the building? C’mon, Allie, you’re smarter than that.”
“Just because I didn’t see what everyone else saw doesn’t mean there wasn’t something there.” She bit her bottom lip. “I admit, I’m not sure what to think about Concerned Citizen.”
“Roger Van Cleave? You know his wife died last year.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Roger doesn’t know what to do with himself and now this ghost thing has fallen right into his lap. I’m sure he thinks he saw a ghost. He probably even believes he wrote that letter, and maybe he did, but this is all just something to tick away the hours for a lonely old man.”
“How do you know all this?”
“He’s a member of Dad’s parish. Calls him three, four times a week with some suggestion or other for Sunday’s sermon. I helped patch his roof a few weeks ago. Kept me there all day plying me with iced tea and stories about the good old days.”
“That’s…that was really nice of you.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m not that nice. You should know that better than anyone.”
“What exactly are we talking about here—” Argh. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She was going to kill Zeke with her bare hands. “How many times do I have to tell you? You. Did. Not. Break. My. Heart. Got it?”
“Got it. No one broke anyone’s heart.” He paused and lowered his voice. “But I owe you an apology anyway.”
