Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Are you all right?” Dr. Lawson asked, passing a cup of tea to Ms. Montague. “You don’t look good—do you need a doctor? We can call the coast guard or get the boat.”
Oscar had helped Montague back to the trailer, along with Ethan and Dr. Lawson. The others remained behind, not wanting to crowd an old woman who was clearly ailing.
Ms. Montague’s face was still unhealthily white, though at least her fingernails hadn’t gone blue. Her hand shook when she took the tea, slopping some of it onto the floor, though she didn’t seem to notice. “I’m fine,” she said, voice shaking as much as her hands.
“Are you sure?” Oscar asked. “Maybe we ought to get you to a doctor, just to check.”
Montague took a long breath—then straightened her shoulders. “No. It was just a shock, seeing her like that.”
“She didn’t look at me,” Dr. Lawson said, and Oscar thought he caught a trace of jealousy and longing in her voice. “Not even a glance. Just as she hasn’t come to me in dreams.”
Thankfully, the color was returning to Montague’s face. She took a sip of her tea, then another, before glancing at Oscar. “Perhaps we should talk in private.”
“What?” Lawson asked warily. “Why? Oscar is our medium—he should know anything relevant.”
“As you wish.” Montague took a deep breath, as if steeling herself to deliver bad news. “She wanted us to leave you.”
Lawson’s mouth opened, then shut. She looked like Montague had punched her.
Oscar really didn’t need to be privy to this conversation. “Maybe Ethan and I should—”
“She wanted to break up with me?” Lawson managed.
“For both of us to.” Montague sighed and took a larger swallow of her tea now that it had cooled somewhat. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, in these circumstances. The seance was a terrible mistake, I see that now.”
Dr. Lawson took two unsteady steps to the bench seating and dropped onto it as if all the strength had left her legs. “Oh.”
Forty years was a long time to believe something, only to find out the situation hadn’t been what you’d thought at all. Montague could have kept it to herself, said she didn’t know why Robin had only focused on her.
But she hadn’t, and this was definitely none of Oscar’s business. “Would you like us to try again, without the two of you?” he asked Montague.
“If Robin won’t seek peace on her own, we have to push her toward it.” Montague looked down at her teacup. “The Devil’s Toybox is occupied, but I believe you used a Faraday tent at Cloven Oak Distillery to a similar effect, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Then that is what you must do here. Robin must cross over before we leave.”
Dismissed, Oscar went to the door, glancing back as he shut it behind him. Montague and Lawson’s positions had reversed; now Lawson was the one who was weak and pale, while Montague looked strong. Then the door closed, cutting them off from his sight.