Page 24 of Giving Up The Ghost
Mick sank back into his creaky desk chair and let out a long, low groan of grief and fear. “All of ‘em said it was a woman, but some said she was old, some said forties. The meetings were never at the same place. She insisted on locations outside of the town center, away from the shop where we usually hold a reading. Cora met her at the Painted Quail, that pub over on Newmarket. Landon’d gone to see her at the Queen’s Small Cock.”
“Was it always pubs?”
He shook his head, lip caught between his teeth as he thought. “Twice, she asked for someone to meet her at a hotel near to London. Violet never had an official meeting with her, but I know she’d spoken to her over the phone. Or said she did. That was a few days before she passed as well. But Violet was in the hospital when she went so…” His uneasy shrug put my back up—as far as Oscar knew, Violet had died after a battle with cancer. Would there be any reason to believe otherwise? Any way for it tobeotherwise?
“So,” Ezra said, voice low and tense, “whoever this is, they were stalking you all.”
Mick nodded slowly. “Looks that way.”
“And the only people surviving are you, Heinrich, and…”
“And Oscar,” Mick chimed in. “She did ask about him a few times.”
Ever jump into a pool, expecting it to be refreshing but find out, once your feet hit the water and it was too late to stop, that it was actually freezing, and you were about to die from shock right there in yourJurassic Parkswim trunks?
Yeah. That was the feeling.
“When?” Ezra demanded. “Recently?”
“Oi, back off a bit there,” Mick demanded. Ezra had lurched forward before I could stop him and was leaning over Mick’s desk, pinning him in place. “I don’t know all the deets, mate. I know she asked Cora if you ever came ‘round and did private readings. By then you’d gone to America, hadn’t you? She told her no and that was that for the questions about you. But Landon and even May before she lost her marbles about four years ago, they mentioned the client asking after Oscar, wondering if he’d ever do readings in the shop.” He plucked at the frayed hole in the thigh of his jeans, staring back into the past. “The only one who had more than one conversation with her was Violet,” he said after a moment. “I remember she took them in the shop. Refused to let us give out her private number, so she’d make time to come ‘round to the shop when she was in town and return any calls requesting her specifically from here. She talked to her three times, at least. Maybe Joy knows of more but I ain’t gonna bother her on her day off.”
“What’d she want to know?” I asked.
“No idea,” Mick sighed. “I suppose the one way to find out is by asking Violet. Good thing you know a fucking strong medium eh?”
* * *
By the timeEzra and I returned to the house, Oscar was neck deep in some box spelunking and Charlotte was prowling the ground floor, driving me up to my room and Ezra to his own, ostensibly to talk to Harrison but I was sure he’d work in some research while he was there. I dug into my own work to pass the uncomfortably quiet hours, poking at my research files until my eyes crossed then messaging with CeCe while she ordered room service after a late-night meeting in New York.
Well. She said meeting, but I had a very brotherly suspicion she had been on a date. She denied it when I asked outright, even when I invoked Twin’s Rights, but maybe Ezra had worn off on me because I had a definite vibe she had been at a meeting alright, just not the kind she implied.
Time would tell, I supposed, and I dropped it because it was far easier to tease her in person than over messenger. We talked about Jacob’s accusations a bit, about the production schedule, then wove our way around to our upcoming birthday. CeCe, as always, suggested a party, shooting down my own suggestion of no.
We’ll just see what your boyfriend has to say about it,she’d sent back in a very smug font. I made a mental note to tell Oscar I was allergic to my birthday before I sent her a string of rude emojis and shut down for the night.
I barely woke when Oscar crept into bed well after midnight.
Oscar was out like a light when I gave up on my own attempt for a bad job, grabbed my old terrycloth robe, and slipped my house shoes on to head down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. All was quiet upstairs, sending me on my way rather than checking in with Ezra to see what he’d found. I wondered if I should’ve had him look into Charlotte—her entire demeanor was a huge waving red flag for me.What if I’m wrong and she’s just like this? A prickly, short temperament with no ulterior motive?Humming as I turned options over, I found an unopened box of chamomile tea bags and a clean mug in the cupboard near the sink and set about making myself a cup of tea with the electric kettle as I thought.Maybe I can just suck it up for a few days, till I can convince Oscar we’d be better off staying close to town. Ezra would likely help me swing that one. Or, push comes to shove, Ezra and I go stay at the pub’s room to let.
That idea didn’t appeal to me much at all and would be too close to abandoning Oscar, even if it was just going a few miles down the road. Oscar would never forgive me for that, even if I presented it as a possible solution to the animosity tainting the trip.
“You look pensive.”
Charlotte stood in the kitchen doorway, muddy boots dangling from her fingers and a car coat over one arm.
I thought I hid my surprise well, but her smirk told me I likely failed. “Sorry. I was just thinking of what we should do tomorrow.”
“We,” she repeated, taking one step into the room. “Well. Oscar has plans to start digging into the special items I brought for him. Do you and Ezra have plans then?”
Me-ow.I smiled, adding too much sugar to my tea and shrugging. “Not yet. I was thinking of going to London.” The idea sounded better by the second, now that I really gave it a chance. The only downside would be Oscar not agreeing. And that was one hell of a downside. Nodding at her coat and boots, I asked, “Are you just getting in?”
“Obviously. An… old friend of the family passed away, and as a representative of the Fellowes clan, I was duty-bound to visit.”
“Oscar seemed very upset by Price’s passing. He says he didn’t know the man really, just met him a few times, but Price had been a friend of his grandmother’s. I imagine that’s a difficult thing, losing some last link to a loved one, no matter how tenuous.”
Charlotte took another step, seeming to unbend just a little as she nodded. “He had been one of her circle, yes. Not very strong in his abilities, but still one of them. One of us.”
There was that phrase again.One of us. She’d used it several times in the past twenty-four hours, an almost cult-like devotion to the concept of the exclusivity of being a Fellowes, being a medium, or just being her and Oscar. “While we were out today, the reverend at the church up the road mentioned Mr. Price had been an older man and the death was an accident.”
