Page 72 of The Aura Answer
“Who put the needle in your arm, Bertie?” Evie asked, just because that had been bothering her.
I quit needles!Bertie insisted. He showed a little more substance than usual as he paced back and forth through Teddy.I got achy. He gave me pills so we could go to the party.
Oh dear, Bertie had never been bright either. This wasn’t fun anymore. “Sheriff, Bertie says Teddy gave him pills when he got achy before the party. I don’t suppose there’s any way of telling the difference between pills and needles in the system?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Teddy shouted. “I just wanted him out of the attic so I could find the sketches!”
Ted’s kid was always a shit head. Sounds like a confession to me.
Evie pinched her nose to hold her focus as ex-mayor Block materialized near the railing where he’d died.
Did my lawyer’s brat shoot me? Is that why he was in the attic?
This was taking distraction to new levels. How did she listen to two ghosts while transmitting all this information to whoever needed to hear it? At least Block was finally acknowledging he was dead.
Jax offered his strength by gathering Evie against him. She ignored the former mayor and returned to the Teddy/Sheriff conversation. “How did you persuade Bertie out of the attic? Did you find any sketches?”
“I told him we were going to a party,” Teddy said grudgingly, realizing his error in admitting that he wanted the sketches. “He said he had a headache. I gave him a few pills, told him to rest, and that I’d take his sketches down to the car so he could show them to others. I didn’t kill him! He fell asleep, and I left him there.”
“And he never woke up,” the sheriff said. “What kind of pills?”
Evie kept her eye on the two ghosts while half listening. Bertie wasn’t happy but aimlessly studied his artwork. Block... seemed to be waiting for something. He always played his cards close to his chest, even in death.
“Nothing big, just a little painkiller to take the edge off! He must have already had drugs in his system.” Teddy Turlock Jr. edged toward the front stairs.
Silver-haired Turlock Sr., looking stuffy in gray sweater and tie, glared at his son with scorn but remained silent. Evie suspected, as a lawyer, he ought to be telling Jr. to shut up, but maybe he was tired of dealing with his antics.
Kid ain’t his, Block offered, as if he’d heard her thoughts.
Evie pretended to talk into her dead phone. “How do you know?”
She would let Jax and the sheriff persuade Jr. into incriminating himself. Translating ghost speak was her job.
They took those DNA ancestry tests last year. No relation.Block’s aura drifted from the railing to walk through Turlock Sr., apparently for amusement. Evie hadn’t realized the ex-mayor found anything humorous except grabbing up land. Turlock shivered in his thick sweater and headed over to talk to Judge Rhodes.
He killed me?Bertie asked plaintively.I thought he was my friend.
“You have to be careful how you choose your friends, hon,” she murmured to the specter. Jax’s arm tightened around her.
In a louder voice, she asked, “Where are the sketches you took from the attic?”
Teddy Jr. grasped the question as if she’d thrown him a lifesaver. “I gave them to Dad. He said Bertie had stolen a valuable drawing, but all I found was his scribbling.”
Bertie knocked another easel into him, catching Teddy Jr. in the back of his nylon coat and causing him to stumble.Not scribbling! Art! The lady said so!
Too much distraction. Evie focused on Teddy’s father, since that was where Block’s spirit stood. “Does that mean you have more artwork to contribute to the gallery exhibit, sir?”
“Me? You’re talking to me and not one of your phantoms?” the lawyer asked with a sneer. “I can’t believe we’re allowing the use of a public courthouse for this obvious marketing ploy for your fake little shop. Albert was a homeless addict. Watching you sell his feeble crap while you pretend to see ghosts is a waste of our time.”
Turlock Sr. started for the stairs, retreating from Block’s icy vicinity. Judge Rhodes, most of the council, and Layman appeared prepared to follow.
In a blast of energy, Bertie whacked the big easel, hurling the collage and the Main Street sketch at them.
Him! It’s him! He was the one who woke me up! He had a gun!
Gracie nearly jumpedout of her skin as Evie shouted incoherently, “Bertie sayshewoke him up and that he had agun!” before slumping in Jax’s arms.
Poor Jax looked rightfully terrified and appeared ready to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
