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I’d heard voices on occasion, but sometimes it was difficult to tell the voices of the dead from those of the living.
Steven continued to stare at the table with a fascination the boring slab of pine didn’t deserve. “They said you were talking to ghosts in the cemetery.”
So much for keeping my secret. “How do they know there were ghosts? Maybe I was talking to myself.”
He swiveled in the chair to look at me. “They said you warned the ghosts not to enter the house without permission.”
I gave Nana Pratt a pointed look. “Why is my ability the reason you’re here?”
“My sister’s gone missing,” he blurted.
Nana Pratt gasped. “Ashley’s missing?”
“I was hoping you might be able to tell me whether she…” He trailed off.
“You want to know if she’s dead.”
Nana Pratt clutched at her robe. “No need to be so blunt. We’re talking about my sweet granddaughter.”
Steven nodded slowly. “I remembered what my friends had told me about that night in the cemetery. I didn’t believe them at the time, but I thought maybe…” He inclined his head in the direction of where he assumed Nana Pratt was standing, although he was wrong. “Maybe if they were telling the truth, you’d be able to help me.” He paused for a sharp intake of breath. “I told you it would sound crazy.”
“Ashley isn’t here,” Nana Pratt said. “Tell him it’s just me and Ray Bauer.”
“I haven’t seen your sister,” I told him.
Steven’s shoulders sagged as he released a breath. “Thank God. I mean, does that mean for sure she’s alive?”
“Not for sure, no.” But it was a good sign. A recently deceased person would be drawn to me like a bug to a zapper, unless they crossed over quickly, which often happened. It depended on the individual.
“Can you try to summon her? See if her ghost shows up?”
I poured the hot water into a cup and dropped in a teabag. “Are you picturing me in a turban with my hands clutching a scrying glass? Because that’s not how I work.”
“Then how do you work? Do you need an item of hers? Because I brought one.” He dug into his pocket and produced a bracelet. “This is one of her favorites.”
Nana Pratt drifted closer; her nose scrunched in a judgmental ball. “Is that even real gold?”
I took the proffered jewelry. “Why not rely on the police to find her?”
He lowered his head again. “The police don’t want to look.”
“Why not?”
“They’re too busy and think it’s a waste of resources.”
My eyes widened at that. “Did they tell you that?”
“Not in so many words, but it was implied. Ashley’s been in trouble before. They think she’s run off, and she’s legally an adult now, so they feel like she can do what she wants.”
“But you don’t think so?”
He raised his head and met my gaze. “I know my sister, ma’am.” He cleared his throat, realizing his error.
“Miss Clay,” I corrected him.
He waved a hand around the kitchen. “You seem like you could use help around here. If you help me find Ashley, I’m pretty good with a sander and a paint roller.”
“I’m not lacking in that department,” I said.
