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“Of course,” I said sweetly. Then I glanced over at Tom and asked, “Is there more coffee?”
“In the kitchen.”
Off I went. I couldn’t help glancing at the staircase as I passed by, but there was no sign of Brant’s body. Obviously, the people from the medical examiner’s office must have already come by and retrieved him, which meant my mother probably had waited for all that to be handled before she called me. She must have needed extra moral support, because there wasn’t anything I could really add to the discussion about Brant’s death. I hadn’t been here when he fell down the stairs.
Maybe that was why Henry Lewis appeared extra irritated this morning. In this particular case, he couldn’t possibly consider me a suspect. I’d been miles away…and I had someone who could vouch for my whereabouts the entire night. Doing so would reveal that Calvin’s and my relationship had taken an important next step, but that was still miles better than being suspected of murder for the third time in less than six months.
A pot sat warming on the heating element of a fancy stainless coffeemaker. I recalled which cupboard my mother had opened to get out the mugs for our tea the night before, then got one down and poured myself some coffee. Because I’d been in such a mad rush to get over here, naturally I hadn’t taken the time to get myself any coffee at home, and I desperately needed the caffeine.
Especially after my exertions of the night before. Calvin and I had slept, of course, but a good chunk of our time had been taken up by more strenuous pursuits.
Hoping I wasn’t blushing too much, I returned to the living room, mug of coffee in hand.
“And you didn’t know Brant Thoreau before yesterday?” Chief Lewis was asking.
My mother shook her head. “I already told you that,” she said. Now she was the one who sounded irritated…not that I could blame her. Being questioned by Henry Lewis was enough to annoy anyone.
“Just double-checking, ma’am,” he returned, tone and expression stoic. “And he was here because…?”
“Because he was investigating unexplained phenomena,” I cut in.
“As in?”
From the way he asked the question, I could tell he wouldn’t believe anything I told him, even if it was the literal truth. Well, I was going to tell him that truth, and he could just deal with it…or not.
“We weren’t sure,” I replied evenly. “A haunting…or possibly something worse.”
His expression was frankly skeptical. “Something worse than ghosts?”
“Demons,” I said.
That reply made him let out an incredulous chuckle. “You believe in demons, Ms. Marx?”
“I believe in entities that originate from planes other than this one,” I told him. “They have many different names. But I had reason to believe we were dealing with something other than ghosts.”
“Brant was pretty sure it was demonic,” my mother put in. She’d lifted her mug of coffee but hadn’t yet drunk from it. “He heard the voices. He heard the sounds inside the wall multiple times.”
“More than yesterday afternoon?” I demanded. She hadn’t uttered a peep at dinner the night before about another round of disturbances.
“Yes,” she said without blinking. “A little after six, and then again around midnight.”
“You should have said something at dinner.” I didn’t want to sound accusatory, but it seemed as though she might have mentioned the demons had been at it again right before she and Tom left the house to meet Calvin and me at the casino.
She swallowed some coffee before replying, “Oh, I didn’t want to bring it up at dinner. We were having such a nice time. And honestly, I was kind of glad it happened, because at least that way it didn’t feel as though Brant had wasted a trip down here.”
Chief Lewis crossed his arms. “Should I go wait on the porch while you ladies finish your chat?”
I sent him as sticky-sweet a smile as I could muster, but my mother immediately said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Chief Lewis. I know this must all sound pretty wild to you, but I trust my daughter’s instincts. She called Brant because she knew this was outside her field of expertise. And he did confirm there was something unearthly in this house.”
“Confirm how?” Henry Lewis asked, not bothering to hide the dubious note in his voice. “Did you get a signed affidavit from the demons establishing their identities?”
“Come on,” Tom said, obviously not thrilled by the police chief’s dismissive tone. “This is outside all our experience. And I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s clearly not natural.”
Chief Lewis cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but he sounded measured enough as he responded, “I never heard word one about this place having demons. Yeah, sure, Norma and Hank liked to tell people they had a ghost — had one of those stupid cable shows about ghost-hunting filmed here — but they never turned up anything. Believe me, the people around here wear their haunted houses like a badge of honor. You should hear Norma Gallegos go on and on about the dead miner who haunts her backyard. I think she’d invite him to Christmas dinner if she could.”
My mother actually smiled. “I don’t think this is the same sort of thing — ”
“It’s not,” I cut in coolly. “Demonic infestations are completely different from ordinary hauntings. We’re not dealing with a human who died in this house and has lingered here ever since, unable to accept the change in their circumstance. Demons can infest a house at any time, although in general, they tend to take up residence when there’s some kind of upheaval going on.”
