Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“A seance?” Tina asked doubtfully, once they were all back together in the dining room. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You were possessed the last time.”
The memory wasn’t a pleasant one. “I didn’t know what I was doing. None of us did. We’ll run our plan by Dr. Lawson in the morning, make sure we’re being safe.”
“We’ll communicate more clearly this way,” he added. “Or we might. The spirit box, the rest of it, it’s all fine but limited when it comes to convincing her to move on to the next world.”
Chris seemed uneasy despite his reassurances. “Montague did warn us not to trust this kid. And you want to contact her in the same room where she maybe murdered the last medium who tried to talk to her.”
“That’s why we’re going to be extremely careful.” Oscar turned to Nigel, who leaned one hip against the table, arms folded. “What do you think?”
The lights reflected off Nigel’s glasses, making it difficult to see his eyes. “I agree—it will be a more effective way of communicating with Gloria. But I share Chris’s concerns. Plus, we have to be very careful we don’t get Ullman instead.”
That sort of mistake was what had gotten Oscar possessed during their first investigation. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him in.”
“Then, yes, let’s talk to Dr. Lawson about it, first thing.” Nigel frowned. “We’ll still need to interact with Ullman at some point if we want to get him to leave.”
“Let’s make Robin and Gloria our first priorities,” Oscar decided.
“If push comes to shove, we’ll leave Ullman here to be freed by the sea.
I don’t want to do that, obviously, but this place can only stay standing for so many more years.
If it washes out into the sound, I think he’ll pass through the veil on his own. ”
“Right.” Nigel straightened. “Let’s see if we can even find Robin. Hopefully she isn’t here, and Ms. Montague is just having nightmares about what happened. Understandably so.”
“Yeah.” If Nigel died and Oscar thought he was trapped on this side of the veil, suffering…it didn’t bear thinking about.
Chris swapped out the battery on their shoulder cam, and the three of them left Tina behind, careful to step over the line of salt at the doorway. They went down the long hall, through the library, and into the night.
Waves sighed gently against the shore, hidden just on the other side of the dunes.
Sand engulfed one corner of the veranda, driven up by some past storm.
Considering what it had been exposed to over the years, the house was in surprisingly good condition.
Did Ullman have something to do with that?
Could ghosts even influence such things?
“I’m going to try to sense if any spirits are out here with us,” he said, for the benefit of the camera. He shut his eyes, let himself attune to the sound of the ocean, the touch of the wind, the scent of salt and rot. The stones were solid beneath his feet.
So solid. Unyielding to falling flesh.
He needed to ground himself, not get carried away imagining Robin’s death. He focused less on the stones, more on the earth beneath it. The bones of the world, their strength rising up through him, connecting him to something more.
He turned his attention outward. Nigel and Chris stood nearby, but it wasn’t their energy he was searching for.
“Go away!”
Oscar cried out and clapped his hands over his ears, even though the sound had been inside his own head. A red wave of anger boiled over him. How dare they come here and pry, a man’s entitled to his privacy, meddling bluenoses!
Voices were calling his name, but he ignored them, too busy putting his wards up.
In his mind’s eye, his old football gear closed protectively around him, blocking out Ullman’s fury.
The sensation dimmed immediately—then began to wane fast as the spirit expended its energy battering against his wards.
Then finally silence and calm once again.
He took several deep breaths, then lowered his hands. Nigel gripped one of his arms, eyes wide. “Oscar?”
“I’m fine. Ullman decided to remind me that he really doesn’t want us here.” He sorted through the jumble of impressions he’d received from the ghost. “He’s angry because he thinks we’re prying into his personal business.”
Nigel’s brow crinkled. “Odd. Though I suppose he saw this as his private retreat, where he could…what?”
“Maybe the Pack were a polycule,” Chris suggested. “That would have been a career-ending scandal for all of them.”
“All I know is, he wants us to stop meddling and go away.” A headache started behind his eyes and Oscar put a hand to his temple. “I need some aspirin.”
“Let’s get you some.” Nigel took his elbow and gently steered him in the direction of the French doors. “No sign of Robin, I take it?”
“No, but I doubt I could have sensed her over Ullman. He’s going to be hard to keep out of the seance.”
“You just have to be very clear who you’re inviting to join us.” Nigel’s fingers squeezed his arm. “We’ll stock up on the salt and keep the anti-static wristband ready to use, though. Just in case.”
As they passed inside, Oscar glanced back over his shoulder. The veranda was dark except for starlight, but he thought one of the deeper shadows watched them until they were out of sight.