Page 70 of The Aura Answer
They both knew that was a lie, but it was all she had. She couldn’t speak for the ghosts while hiding under a basket, and the whole point here was to get a ghost’s perspective. She doubted anyone but Jax fully understood that.
Reuben was with Larraine in her secure office at city hall down the street, but he had access to the cameras Roark was installing. Evie could hear him in Jax’s earbud, directing camera angles. She kissed Jax’s jaw and wandered off to check the positioning of Bertie’s artwork.
In his usual denim work shirt and jeans, Toby had set up the architectural drawing of Main Street USA in the middle of the hall, with a cloth over it. Bertie’s lovely watercolor collage blocked it from view. Evie admired the details of the painting, waiting for Bertie to announce his presence.
Instead, Gracie, in a festive red sweater that looked good with her blond hair, joined her. “I called Mrs. Walker and told her what we’re doing. I don’t know if she’ll come, but maybe some of Bertie’s family will.”
Evie nodded and swallowed a lump. “Having his family see this display would be the next best thing for Bertie. Poor guy deserves a Christmas. I thought you were taking Aster around the fair.”
“I am. I just wanted to see the set-up first. I’ll be back in an hour or so. We’re helping Nick and Dante pass out flyers advertising the show. Are you okay? No apparitions shoving anyone around?” She’d pulled her hair up in red ribbons and left curls dangling at her nape—a far cry from her usual neat bob.
Evie thought she should have dressed up a little more too. Her reindeer sweatshirt would have to do though. “I don’t know if either spirit has gathered enough energy to do more than slam doors. They’re not exactly live wires. All I can do is wait and see. Ghosts usually find some way of expressing themselves if disturbed.”
“Then I hope you can hide in a closet if they do. I’ll see you later.” She took the stairs down.
“Charging admission is a good way of eliminating lookie loos.” Looking good in fitted jeans, Toby stepped back from the main easel to examine the hall with a critical eye. “Who gets the funds?”
“Bertie’s family, of course. If we sell anything, Verity receives her fee and the balance goes to his family. Do you think they’ll sell?” Evie had once considered Toby the coolest guy in school,probably because he was new and hadn’t really picked up on her ADHD.
A little experience made a lot of difference. She could now see that he was a nice guy, nothing more. She supposed it said something for his character that he’d turned out well despite his years of privilege and his blockheaded father.
“Verity will do her thing,” he said. “She’ll label the mantel collage not for sale. The rest will have price tags. None of this will prevent Layman from owning the town.”
“I know.” Evie bit back her sadness. She preferred action to grieving. “I know you don’t believe, but I’m hoping your father’s spirit will point out the bad guys, even if he can’t name them.”
“I don’t believe killers will show up, much less any of the rest.” Toby walked away.
Well, there was that. The sketches were the only bait she had. And they weren’t even drawing out ghosts.
Around eleven,with all his flyers handed out, Nick checked through his phone for the various online news sites to see if his press release had hit any of them. Several of the locals had added the exhibit to their event calendars, but it was too late for the bigger sites. He had an e-mail from a reporter about the art website and Bertie. That would be too late for today’s events but if all went well, might sell a few sketches later.
He had no idea if any of his publicity had reached Layman or his cohorts. He was counting on small town gossip and the town council passing the word.
He was counting on a killer coming to see the sketches. He was now officially insane.
He bought hot chocolate from Pris, who was packing up her booth. “See Gracie?”
“Upstairs already. Take her a cookie. Her anxiety level has reached nuclear.” She wrapped the last of her confections, added them to a carry bag, and handed it over.
“Thanks. I’m not sure she appreciated the hot dog lunch.” He’d decided hot dogs were an acquired taste. He should have tried the barbecue.
Way to deny insanity—think about dead meat.
Holding the bag, he entered the courthouse. Downstairs was relatively quiet.
The ticket seller wasn’t in position yet, so he proceeded upward.
Despite the early hour, a crowd had already formed. He searched for Gracie, finding her in a brilliant red sweater, shivering near one of the courtroom doors. He handed her his hot chocolate and admired the silky blond curls escaping her ribbons. “Is there time for me to run back and fetch a coat for you? It’s colder in here than out.”
Gracie nodded toward her reindeer-adorned sister pacing with a phone to her ear. “Hope you brought a cell phone charger. I think Evie’s apparitions have shown up. Stick around for the show.”
He shrugged off his blazer and dropped it over her shoulders. His wardrobe tended toward black, not exactly a holiday color, but his turtleneck was warm. “I’ll be better prepared for action this way. Name the players, please.”
She handed back the hot chocolate while rummaging for the cookies. “The slight man with the dyspeptic expression and the only one wearing a suit and tie is Judge Rhodes. You’ve met Judge Satterwhite—the older man with white hair, wearing a Santa hat? He dons his Santa suit in his office, but he’s here early.”
“And I recognize cowboy boots and leather jacket as Layman. He’s not looking happy for a man who owns the town.”
The gazillionaire had shown up!Nick would feel triumphant except Layman was glaring ominously at the collage on the center easel. Did he know it hid his architectural drawing?
