Page 65 of Real Fake Hauntings

“I bet it’s because you were a foster kid,” Leah said excitedly.

Miriam gaped at her friend. “Oh, my God.”

“Souls who were lost growing up tend to connect,” Dorsey agreed.

“This is so cool,” Leah whispered.

It was kind of cool. Dorsey might be a rude old biddy, but there was no denying her artistry (and internet search prowess). Even Jim was leaning in, full of interest.

“Now, everyone hold hands on top of the table.”

Dutifully, I took Miriam’s right hand and Jim’s left one.

“I will now proceed to enter a trance. This is a delicate time that requires all my concentration. Please do not speak until I give you permission.”

We all watched in fascination as she closed her eyes and let her head hang down toward her chest. A few minutes passed while she remained completely still, and I was starting to wonder if Dorsey had just gone and expired on her chair when her head snapped up.

“I can see them!” she exclaimed. “The spirits!”

We gasped. Leah’s hand went to her throat.

“Hand,” Dorsey demanded in a croaky snap, her empty fingers contracting into claws.

“Sorry,” Leah whispered, touching Dorsey’s palm tentatively. The old woman immediately snatched Leah’s hand and brought it down to the table.

Dorsey could sure move when she wanted to.

“The spirits are here,” she continued, her eyes focused somewhere above Veva’s head.

We all turned toward the end of the table. Veva’s amiable smile stayed in place, her shadow flickering against the wallpaper.

“There is a presence nearby…” Dorsey began.

“Who?” Jim asked eagerly.

“I’m not sure…”

Concluding that since Dorsey hadn’t bitten Jim’s head off for talking, it was okay to speak now, Miriam asked, “Is it Mary Elizabeth?”

“No, someone else,” Dorsey replied, closing her eyes again and frowning in concentration.

“Is it friendly?” Leah asked, then held her breath.

“Is it a dead witch?” I asked, since I was here and all. Maybe Dorsey would let something slip if she knew anything about the pentagrams or who had killed Crane. Too bad I couldn’t ask if it was Crane, since nobody was supposed to know he was dead.

Miriam, Leah, and Jim let out a chorus of ooh.

One of Dorsey’s eyes popped open, its evil glare focusing on me. “There are no real witches here.”

Ouch. “Are you sure? You can never really tell. Maybe my presence has lured one?”

“No witches,” Dorsey said curtly, closing her eye again.

“Oh, but I read there used to be a coven or something?” Leah said excitedly. “It was on the booklet at the hotel about haunted Olmeda places.”

“Yes,” I said solemnly. “Bad witches. I wonder if one has come back to haunt us by leaving spells on our buildings?” Had Dorsey done the pentagrams to up her medium side business?

“Are you trying to steal my idea for next year?” Jim asked in irritation. “I already have the witch thing covered at the Three Sisters’.” He shook off my hold to point at me. “Don’t you dare think of it. Stick to your tours, Avery.”

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