I held Xylda's limp hand for a moment, but it wasn't necessary for the task that had been set me. Xylda's soul was still there. I was almost sorry. It would have simplified the decisions ahead for her family if her soul had already departed.
Barney Simpson stuck his head in the door and looked at me quizzically.
"I thought we'd kicked you out," he said, keeping his voice low out of respect for the quiet figure on the bed.
"You make visits to the patients in the ICU?"
"No, to the families of those patients. I saw someone in here, so I came to check."
"I'm just standing in for her grandson for a minute," I said.
"You're a good friend. This is the other lady, right?"
"Xylda Bernardo. The psychic. Yes."
"She told the law enforcement people about Chuck Almand."
After a second, I nodded. That was more or less true.
"Yes."
"What an extraordinary talent," Simpson said. He ran a hand over his bushy dark hair, trying to tame it, but he didn't have any luck.
"She's definitely out of a different mold," I said. I took a step toward the door. I wanted to report back to Manfred. Simpson stood back to let me pass. A nurse went by us as she entered Xylda's room. "You again," she said to Simpson. "Can't get rid of you today."
"Nope. My car's iced in," he said, smiling.
"Oh, so your stay isn't voluntary," she said.
"I'd love to go home."
So would I.
By the time I reached Manfred, Barney Simpson had continued on with his round of visiting.
"She's still intact," I said. Manfred closed his eyes, whether in dismay or gratitude I couldn't imagine.
"Then I'll wait in there with her," he said. "Until she goes."
"What can we do for you?" Tolliver asked.
Manfred looked at him with an expression that almost broke my heart. "Nothing," he said. "You've claimed her, I can see. But having you two as friends is good, and I'm really grateful you made the effort to get into town to see us. Where are you staying?"
We told him about the lake cottage. He smiled at the story of the Hamiltons. "When you two leaving?" he asked. "I guess the cops have cut you loose?"
"I guess we'll leave tomorrow," I said. "But we'll come by the hospital to check on you before we go. Sure there's nothing I can get you?"
"Since the hospital still has electricity," Manfred said, "the shoe may be on the other foot. You can get hot food here. The cafeteria is open."
The phrase "hospital cafeteria" didn't sound very appetizing, but "hot food" did. We coaxed Manfred into going with us, and we ate hot biscuits with gravy poured over them, and some hamburger steak, and some green beans. I had to swear to myself I'd do double running the next week.
At the last minute, I almost turned back to stay with Manfred. He seemed so alone. But he said, "There's no point in you staying here, Harper, as much as I appreciate the offer. There's just sitting and waiting here, and I can do that on my own. My mother should be here tomorrow morning, if the roads clear. I'll step out of Grandmother's room from time to time to check my voice mail."
I gave Manfred a hug, and Tolliver shook his hand. "We'll come if you need us, man," he said, and Manfred nodded.
"I don't think she'll last the night," he said. "She's tired out. But at least she had a last moment in the sun yesterday. She told me she thought the boy definitely killed the animals, but that something else was going on there, too."
"Like what?" I'd been moving away, but now I turned back to face Manfred. This was bad news.
He shrugged. "She never told me. She said the whole property was surrounded by a swamp of evil."
"Hmmm." Well, "swamp of evil" sounded pretty bad. What could Xylda have meant? See, this is what makes me nuts about psychics.
"She used a different word."
"Than what?"
"Than swamp. She called it a…miasma? Is that a word?"
Manfred wasn't stupid, but he wasn't much of a reader, either. "Yeah, it is. It means, like, a thick unpleasant atmosphere, right, Tolliver?"
Tolliver nodded.
Had I missed something, like a body? Had I made a mistake? The idea was so strong, so shocking, that I hardly noticed the bitter cold as we made our way to our car. "Tolliver, we've got to go back to that property."
He looked at me as if I were nuts. "In this weather, you want to go poke around private property?" he asked, getting all his objections in one sentence.
"I know the weather is wrong for this. But Xylda…"
"Half the time Xylda was an old fraud, and you know it."
"She wouldn't be about this." A thought occurred to me. "Do you remember when we were in Memphis, she said, ‘In the time of ice you'll be so happy?'"
"Yeah," he said. "I do remember that. And it is the time of ice and up until you wanted to go trespassing, I was happy." He didn't look happy. He looked worried. "As a matter of fact, I wanted to go back to the cabin and stoke up the fire and get happy again."
I smiled. I couldn't help it. "Why don't we just ask?" I said.
"Just ask this guy if we can look over his property again? Just ask him if he snuck some bodies in there while we weren't looking? Because there's a miasma of evil around it?"
"Okay, I get your point. I just think we have to do something."
Tolliver had started the car the minute we got in and the heater was finally working. I bent over a little to let the hot air blow directly on my face.
"We'll go by, have a look," he said, very reluctantly.
"Then we'll follow your plan about the cabin."
"Okay, that part sounds good."
We traced our route of yesterday and alternately slid and bumped our way through the nearly deserted streets to the back of Tom Almand's property. The area where all the police and media vehicles had parked was a churned-up mess, the black mud hardened into a sea filled with black crests. Tolliver parked where it would be very hard to see our car from the house. I got out of the car and moved carefully to the barn. What had I missed there?
Inside the barn, the air was cold and still and stale, and there were several holes in the dirt floor. This was where the sacrificed animals had been exhumed. I thought about the boy, Chuck, but then I banished the picture of his sad eyes from my mind, and I concentrated on opening myself to the vibration that came uniquely from the dead—the human dead.
When I opened my eyes, Chuck Almand was standing in front of me.
"Oh, God, you scared me, boy!" I said, raising a gloved hand to my throat.
He was wearing heavy boots and a heavy coat, a hat and gloves and a scarf, so he was appropriately dressed for the weather, at least.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Did you think you'd missed something?"
"Yes," I said. I had no reasonable story to tell. "Yes, I wondered if I'd missed something."
"You thought there might be dead people here?"
"I was checking."
"There aren't any. They're all dug up, out at Davey's old farm."
"You don't know of any others?"
His eyes flickered then, and I heard someone else outside. Thank God.
The door of the barn opened, and my brother came in. "Hey, Chuck," he said casually. "Honey, you finished?"
"Yeah, I think so," I said. "Negative results, like we expected."
Chuck Almand's light, bright eyes were fixed on me. "Don't be scared of me," he said.
"I don't believe I am," I said, trying to smile. And it was true I wasn't exactly frightened of the boy. But I did feel very uncomfortable around him, and I was concerned about him in an impersonal kind of way.