Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nigel took a turn at the monitors with Tina while Oscar and Chris slept. Ullman’s ghost bothered him—the man had taken his life in a fit of despair, so why did he manifest as a force of rage? And what had that been about protecting his private business?
Then again, maybe he hadn’t shot himself out of despair.
Unless he’d left a note, how would anyone know?
The obvious assumption was that the deaths of his six friends, on top of the death of his daughter, had been too much for him.
He’d been the only one of the Pack not on the boat, so add a dollop of survivor’s guilt on top of the grief, and if he was already suffering from depression it seemed logical that he might take an extreme action.
But logic was an infamously poor explanation for human behavior. Perhaps, as Chris suggested, the friends had been engaging in the sort of behavior that would get a man banned from society if it became known.
Maybe they’d have more luck in the cupola. Robin’s ghost could be there. If not, Ullman would have to be dealt with if they wanted to even sense whether she was still here at all.
“That tickles!” the PolterPal yelled through the headphones and directly into his ears.
Nigel jerked, knocking into his coffee mug hard enough to slosh coffee onto the desk. Tina looked at him with round eyes; her headphones were plugged into the receivers from different static cams.
“PolterPal,” he mouthed at her, even as he shoved everything out of the way of the spill. She took off her headphones and made for the kitchen, returning a moment later with a wad of napkins. While they soaked up the spill, the PolterPal giggled, as if pleased to have scared him.
But of course that was ridiculous—the doll was, as he’d told Chris again and again, just a tool. He couldn’t start assigning it agency.
Order restored, he concentrated on the feed from the bedroom cam. It revealed nothing of interest, and the PolterPal fell silent for the rest of night.
He turned in shortly before dawn and was rewarded with restless sleep, filled with dreams of the PolterPal shrieking into his ears. If he could only understand what it was telling him…
When he woke and shoved off his sleep mask, sunlight streamed through the bay windows and the temperature was already climbing. Chris was unplugging batteries from chargers; they glanced over when Nigel sat up.
“Morning, doc.” They checked their watch. “Yep, still morning. Tina is sleeping in the trailer, and Oscar went outside to talk with Dr. Lawrence about the seance. We left you a microwaved breakfast burrito and some coffee.”
“Breakfast of champions,” he said, but his stomach growled.
When he left the house after eating, it was to find Dr. Lawrence and Ms. Montague under their shade, Ethan lurking nearby, and Oscar standing in front of them with his hands on his hips.
“I just don’t think it’s necessary,” Ms. Montague was saying as Nigel approached. “I understand your desire to investigate, Ruthie, but Robin is my primary concern.”
Dr. Lawrence’s pale skin flushed. “She’s my concern, too!
Maybe it’s not my dreams she’s haunting, but I want her to have peace as much as you do.
But Fox can’t even find her with Ullman rampaging around, blaring anger in every direction.
Right now, finding Robin’s spirit is like trying to spot a candleflame in the middle of a bonfire. ”
“Then get rid of Ullman!” Montague made an impatient gesture. “But this seance with Gloria is a waste of time. Have you forgotten about the storm?”
Nigel’s throat tightened. “Storm?”
“Ethan called in to check the weather this morning. The forecast has changed—there’s a tropical storm forming off Bermuda.
One projected path has it making landfall along the Outer Banks four days from now.
It probably won’t hit us, but if we do have to evacuate, I don’t want to abandon Robin’s spirit here a second time. ”
Riding out a tropical storm on the island would be dangerous in the extreme. “Even so, if there’s a chance it’s heading our way, we need to wrap things up here as fast as we can.”
“If we can find out what Ullman’s so angry about, it will help us convince him to move on, and make it easier to contact Robin,” Oscar said. “Gloria was his daughter, so she might be able to tell us.”
“And if she can’t?” Montague challenged.
Dr. Lawrence flung up her arms in frustration. “Then we’ll have no choice but to try to communicate with Ullman more directly.”
“I’d prefer not to have him in my brain, if at all possible.” Oscar turned to Nigel and held out his hand. “Tina told us about the PolterPal surprise last night, by the way.”
Nigel wanted to kiss him good morning, but not in front of Ms. Montague.
“It was indeed a surprise.” He turned to Ms. Montague.
“I do think a seance will help us, if we do it safely. It won’t take all night, and if it lets us release Ullman from whatever is keeping him here, then we can turn all our attention to helping Robin. ”
Her hands tightened on the silver head of her cane. “I see I’m outvoted.”
“Don’t be like that.” Dr. Lawrence leaned forward so she could put her hand on top of Montague’s. “We all want the same thing. But Fox is our medium, so we need to listen to him, even if he’s saying something you don’t like.”
“I suppose.” Montague’s eyes remained cold. “Just remember the child is a trickster. What she says probably won’t even be true. Ruthie’s memory may have faded, but she tried to spin the same yarn about buried treasure to us that she did to the Vanderwalls.”
“My memory is fine,” Dr. Lawrence said with a glare.
“She’s a child,” Oscar pointed out. “Maybe she believes there really is pirate treasure hidden here. We’ll be cautious, and we won’t believe her about buried treasure, I promise.”
Oddly enough, that seemed to relax Montague. “Very well. I can ask no more.”
“You should see the interview with the whole family.” Lawson leaned back in her chair. “Andy talks about Gloria in it.”
“Good suggestion,” Nigel agreed. “As soon as Tina’s awake, we’ll see what he had to say.”