“WHAT!”
Viv leaped at her mother, with Iona following so closely the three of them resembled a huddling football team as Viv’s fingers flew. Iona turned her back to Rhona as she interpreted. “Viv says maybe we should all get going. The convention organizers won’t wait for us, even if her mum is presenting later in the week.”
Rhona tried to shove through the shoulders of the younger girls so she could confront Floraidh a [ont wis she spluttered, “You can’t just put him on display like some sort of trophy! He’s an innocent man!”
“No man is innocent, especially not that one.” Floraidh made an I’ve-sucked-the-lemon-now face as she realized she might’ve let a little too much information slip. Then she rushed on, maybe hoping that none of us would stop to wonder how she knew the dead guy from the late nineteenth century. “I’ll be welcoming tour groups through during the GhostCon if they wish to come. They won’t be allowed to disturb your rest, of course. But if you prefer to find another place to stay, I completely understand.”
“There IS no other place to stay! Every room within fifty miles has been sold out for the past six months!” Rhona declared.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to do my best to see that your time here is as pleasant as I can possibly make it.” Syrupy sweet, that voice, and so fake that if somebody could’ve given it shape and form, a plastic surgeon could’ve used it to round out some flat-assed woman’s derriere.
“Oh! Oh!” said Rhona, her tank turret bouncing as she bobbed her head like she was trying to click off a few rounds and fuming because some blockhead had loaded all the guns with dummy shells. I looked into those bloodshot brown eyes of hers. Yup, if she could’ve, she’d have blown Floraidh to bits right there on the shiny wood floor. Which made her a more likely suspect. And me less inclined to stop her once she made her move.
I needed a conference.
Chapter Thirteen
While Viv’s fingers flew and Iona murmured in a comforting tone, Floraidh moved to take a rectangular black silk shawl off of its spot on the coatrack by the front door. She flung it around her shoulders, covering the V-neck of her silky brown blouse, which complemented the teal in her stretchy slacks rather nicely. In contrast, Dormal’s Alice in Wonderland ate-the-cake size probably made it tough for her to find socks that fit. Which might explain why she’d pulled on a white pantsuit whose jacket wouldn’t button over her powder-blue polyester shirt and whose bottoms stopped an inch above her ankles. From the way she kept shifting they also looked to be giving her a permanent wedgie.
I dove into the uncomfortable silence like a first-timer off the cliffs of Hawaii. “Jeremy, if we’re going to have a bunch of tourists cruising through here, maybe we should go outside and make sure our equipment is set up in more discreet locations,” I said. Yup, that sounded just as awkward and loud as it had felt. Geez, why couldn’t they grow grace in a test tube and then glue it to your personality like they do hair extensions?
Vayl said, “An excellent idea, Lucille. Do you suppose we have the time for that, Floraidh?”
“If you can accomplish it in ten minutes. We really must leave after that.”
“Ten minutes it will be, then.”
We slipped out the kitchen door, which took us into the garden I’d seen earlier, a grid of rock-lined plots containing masses of edibles that reached toward the last rays of the setting sun. We went to the first camera, which Cole had set up near the front corner of the house where the ^laslane curved around to meet the barn. While Vayl moved it to the other side of the lane I told him about Dormal and Floraidh’s discussion. “That makes this ghost’s appearance quite convenient, does it not?” he asked.
“It’s not a ghost.”
“No?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about the time I spent with Tolly Mendez, but she’s kind of an expert on Scidairans. And she told me ghosts disrupt their magic.”
“Why is that?”
“Nobody’s sure. The current theory is that because the Scidairans’ main goal is to avoid death, and ghosts kind of personify that, the two mix about as well as geeks and gladiators.”
Vayl said, “So, assuming we did not just see a ghost, what was it? I would not guess hologram. I do not believe they had the time to subvert our technology.” I kinda thought he knew the answer and was just quizzing me. Good old Vayl. Why offer up your own vast store of knowledge when you have so much more fun eeking small nuggets out of others? Luckily I’d been paying attention in college.
I said, “I agree she wasn’t playing camera tricks. But were you watching Dormal during that whole episode?”
“Not the entire time,” he said.
“Me neither, but I did give her a glance or two, and she was working her ass off. Sweating, wordless chanting, and a couple of tugs at her hair. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I think she’s got something tied up under that shaggy do, because as soon as she touched it my senses went zapola. Considering that our visitor came with a message, I think what he was, what she raised, was a loeden.”
Vayl’s brows lifted. Okay, I admit, I’d reached with that one. Loeden weren’t ghosts, but they weren’t alive either. I wasn’t sure where they fit into the nether hierarchy, except that as its postal system, they probably ranked near the bottom.
He said, “That is a powerful drawing spell. Especially for a single Scidairan.”
“Well, who’s to say she did it all by herself? They’ve got a whole coven going on. And even if the rest of them are lying low to keep the guests from bolting, they could’ve stored their powers somewhere for her to draw on. Kinda like the juice in all those masks the vamps had displayed on the wall back in your old Trust.”
The tightening of Vayl’s jaws told me he didn’t appreciate the reminder of the time, not long ago, when his former mate had tried to suck him back into the community he’d barely escaped a century before.
I hesitated, reached out, and rested my hand on his where it gripped the camera’s tripod. The other held just as tight to the blue jewel that topped his cane. I said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No. You are my avhar. That gives you the right, no, the responsibility, to speak your mind.”
“It doesn’t mean I should dump on your feelings along the way.”
His expression reminded me of a kid seeing an a cid ”Really? Is that all it takes? You are so easy.
“Maybe there’s hope for them both yet,” I said.
His smile, so wide that it showed fangs, might’ve made me run once. Now I just responded to that fierce happiness with a couple of hard nods. No doubt anything else would’ve led to indecent exposure and my eventual humiliating arrest.
“Let’s say Dormal did do a spell,” I suggested, reminding him of why we’d left the house in the first place. “Maybe Floraidh even gave her a boost in there.”
“It is possible,” Vayl replied after taking a deep breath. “She was the one I watched the most, and I did note a few odd gestures that might be attributed to spell work.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Because Bea is the one we’re after.”
Vayl nodded. “You are correct. But perhaps, once we know who the ashes belong to, we may take a new approach to this mission.”
We shared a grim nod, understanding how remote that possibility stood right now. I said, “Remember, she was talking about somebody’s bones earlier. What if she murdered the guy we just saw?”
“We turn her over to the authorities.”
“Vayl, if you’re right about his age, he’s probably been dead over a hundred and twenty years. Which means she’s done a helluva job ducking death. And I’m pretty sure it also means the statute of limitations on that crime expired a long time ago.”