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“If it makes you feel better, than by all means, go ahead. Add in some sack cloth and ashes while you’re at it.”
“Can you cut me a little slack here, Allie? This isn’t easy for me. Because the truth is, whenever I look at you it reminds me of a time in my life that I’m not so proud of. And then, there’s that other thing.”
“What other thing?”
“The fact that we both want to screw each other’s brains out.”
Her jaw dropped.
Phoebe Van Cleave appeared in the open doorway. “May I enter?” she asked in a loud dramatic voice.
“Perfect timing,” Allie muttered under her breath.
“Sure, why not? Come on in,” Tom said.
Phoebe glared at him. “I wasn’t speaking to you. I’m asking the ghost for permission.”
Tom laughed in that not nice way of his. “In that case, the ghost says wipe your feet before you come inside.”
Despite the tension between them, Allie couldn’t help but smile. Just a little.
“Make fun all you want,” Phoebe said. “I guarantee tomorrow night you won’t be so cocky.”
“Is that when you’ve arranged for the séance?” Allie tried to appear contrite. Sharing a joke with Tom at Phoebe’s expense wasn’t going to win Phoebe over to her side. And like it or not, that was exactly what Allie was going to have to do if she wanted an exclusive on this séance.
Phoebe cautiously stepped inside the building, like any second now she’d trip on a land mine. “I just heard from Madame Gloria. She’s available to host a séance tomorrow night. I tried for this evening but she’s booked. We’re lucky she’s available on such short notice.”
Tom crossed his arms over his chest. “I almost hate to ask, but who’s Madame Gloria?”
“Just the best medium in north Florida, probably even in the whole southeast,” Phoebe declared proudly. “If there’s a ghost haunting this building, which of course there is since we’ve all seen him, she’ll tap into him. Yep, tomorrow night all will be revealed.”
Allie pulled her cell phone out of her backpack. “This is great, Phoebe. I really appreciate this. Does Madame Gloria have a website? Or maybe a bio I can look up? Do you think she’ll let me tape the séance?”
“Oh, you won’t be there,” Phoebe said. “This will be a closed event. Open to only a few selected individuals. Madame Gloria usually only allows four witnesses of her choice, tops.”
“Make that six,” Tom said.
Phoebe scowled. “How did you come up with that number?”
“Her four, plus Allie and me make six.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Only true believers allowed.”
“But I’m a true believer,” Allie said. No need to mention what she believed in was that she needed this story. “And I’m the one who got this whole thing started!”
“Nevertheless, the ghost gets to pick. And he doesn’t pick you,” Phoebe said.
The front door to the senior center slammed shut, startling all three of them.
“That’s weird,” Allie said. “Must have been a breeze.”
“Probably.” Tom opened the door again and poked his head out.
Allie came up behind him. There was no breeze. Nothing but warm, humid air. Now that the cooler weather brought by the rain had passed it was already climbing back into the eighties, typical Florida fall weather. She scanned the parking lot. Most of the protestors and the construction crew had cleared out. Zeke and Rusty were chatting it up
with some of Mimi’s Bunco group and the Gray Flamingos were packing up their signs.
Roger Van Cleave caught her looking, then quickly cut his gaze away. She remembered what Tom said, about Roger’s wife passing and how he didn’t think Roger was Concerned Citizen. The more Allie thought about it, she had to agree. She watched as he stashed his sign in the backseat of his car. Poor old guy. You’d have to be pretty lonely to make up stuff just for attention.
