Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2) (14 page)

Marion took out a Moleskine notebook and wrote in it at breakneck speed throughout this story. “Why do you still have day jobs?”

Solana radiated frost again. “Do you mean, because I should be able to get the spirits of those who’ve passed over to give me winning lottery numbers?”

Marion looked up. She didn’t blush but she cleared her throat before answering. “Well, yes. Something like that.”

The frost changed to condescension. “Those who’ve passed over use me as a conduit when needed. They are not puppies to be trained with a rolled-up newspaper to be obedient to my will.”

Mac reentered the room as more thunder crashed. “All set?”

The power went out.

“Son of a gun. I’ll check the circuit breakers.”

Cedar pushed aside the drapes. “Power’s out all along the lake. Electricity doesn’t affect Solana’s gift. I’ll turn off all the light switches in the dining room and here so when the power returns it won’t break her concentration.” He took a step toward the dining room. “Would you like to sit in? I’ll bring another chair.”

Mac shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll call Penelec for a power restore time estimate. I’ll stay away from these rooms so you won’t be disturbed.”

She retreated toward her office. Cedar herded everyone still standing to an empty seat around the coffee table.

Rain pounded the bay window. Thunder and lightning increased.

Giulia glanced at Frank and the same thought crossed their faces: What a Hollywood setting.

The glow of the candlesticks flanking the Ouija board brought out the warmth of the cherry wood. Giulia chose a chair at the end of the table from which she could watch the entire room. Frank took the couch cushion next to Solana. Giulia gave him an infinitesimal nod. Cedar, to her surprise, took the seat opposite Giulia. She’d been sure that he’d sit next to his wife to work the room from her verbal or nonverbal cues. Giulia might have an open mind about psychics because of the experiences of trusted friends, but not for half a minute did she believe in someone who relied on a toy manufacturer’s gimmick.

“The planchette has room for Solana and four others to have their fingers touching it,” Cedar said. “Those four have to sit on either side of Solana or directly opposite her. If you want to play musical chairs, now’s the moment.”

More thunder. Giulia held up her hands palm out, as did Gino. He and CeCe negotiated and CeCe switched seats with him and took the chair next to her husband. This configuration allowed Joel, CeCe, Anthony, Frank, and Solana to touch the planchette.

The sounds of the rain and their own breathing filled the room. Mac’s footsteps crossed from her office to the kitchen.

A cell phone played the ESPN update,
da-da-da, da-da-da
. They all jumped.

“Sorry,” Roy said. Every single person around the table except Cedar and Solana muted their phones.

Giulia turned on her voice memo function and set her phone face down on the rug to conceal the light.

When the rain and breathing were again the only noises in the room, Solana said in a quiet, even voice, “Those of you not touching the planchette do not need to hold hands. We’re not in a direct-to-DVD movie. I ask only that you remain quiet. For the four of you who desire to touch it with me, the rules are simple. Do not attempt to move it on your own. Do not press down on it to try to prevent it moving. If the spirit of the weeping woman chooses to send us a message, it may startle you. Please do not jerk your hands away. That may alter the message or disturb the spirit. If you must break your contact, wait until the planchette has stopped moving and slowly raise your hands.”

The party game atmosphere crumbled at her words. Marion and Anthony glanced at each other, Marion’s business demeanor cracking. Joel squeezed Gino’s hands and Gino held on a second longer when Joel tried to release them. CeCe crossed herself.

An imp on Giulia’s shoulder tempted her to bring up Bach’s
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor
on her phone. She flicked the imp into the fireplace with an imaginary finger.

Solana’s breathing slowed. Her head tipped up toward the ceiling, eyes still closed. Her hands raised and her fingertips lightly came to rest on the wide edge of the planchette. Cedar motioned to Anthony, Frank, CeCe, and Joel to find room on it as well.

“Will you speak to us?” Solana’s voice came out sweeter, coaxing. “We are ready to listen.”

The candles burned straight and clear.

Gino’s eyes widened and he clamped his face into the crook of his elbow. His body shook once. Again. The arm came down to reveal watering eyes that glared at the orange pillar candle on the end table next to him.

Pumpkin spice,
he mouthed at Joel, who bit both lips but the smile still peeked through.

“Will you speak to us?” Solana said again.

Several long seconds later, she said the words a third time.

The planchette moved.

Twenty-Seven

Marion gasped. Gino’s mouth dropped open. Joel and Frank eyed each other with suspicion.

CeCe stared them both down. Anthony started to take his hands away from the heart-shaped wood, but resettled himself instead.

“We are listening,” Solana said, still in that soothing voice. “What do you want us to know?”

A pause. The shoulders of the four didn’t relax.

The planchette moved again, kept moving in tiny jerks and scrapes until it stopped at the letter
S.

“S,” Cedar said, his voice all business.

The planchette scraped to its left.

“O.”

“S.”

“A.”

“D.”

“So sad,” CeCe whispered. “Oh my God.”

“Why are you sad?” Solana said.

“A.”

“L.”

“O.”

“N.”

“E.”

“I’m going to need a nightlight tonight,” Joel whispered.

Cedar pointed a finger at him and shook his head. Joel nodded and focused on the board again.

The candle flames flickered.

Giulia’s ears caught a new sound. It faded as the planchette moved.

“W.”

“H.”

“Y.”

Marion, seated kitty-corner to Giulia, muttered, “The messages take too long. Entertainment can’t be boring.”

Giulia put a finger to her lips. Marion returned to writing in her notebook. CeCe kept reading the message letters out loud.

“S.”

“E.”

Joel put it together first. “Why are you in my house?”

“Holy crap,” Roy said in a loud and shaky voice.

“Shh!” from all sides.

When the room quieted, Solana said, “When guests are in your house, you aren’t alone any longer.”

The other sound returned. Now Giulia recognized it: Crying. Perhaps the same voice that woke her up at two in the morning. She couldn’t tell yet.

Anthony and Frank had turned their faces away from the Ouija board, one looking at the mantelpiece, the other down the hall toward the lighthouse.

The planchette remained still. Solana repeated her statement. The room grew tense. All the fingers touching the planchette except Solana’s trembled enough to rattle the wooden instrument.

Solana said: “How can we help you?”

“G.”

“E.”

“T.”

“O.”

The crying stopped when the letter game restarted. Giulia refused to believe that a hundred-plus-year-old ghost couldn’t manipulate the Ouija board and make that echoey weeping sound at the same time. By this time the ghost ought to be able to give a TED talk on multitasking.

“Get out of my house,” Frank said. “Not much of a host, is she?”

Giulia tried to send Frank a psychic “Play along” message of her own.

The planchette flew to the words “good” and “bye” at the bottom of the Ouija board. Back and forth, over and over, “good” “bye,” “good” “bye,” “good” “bye,” “good” “bye.”

Still in her non-threatening voice, Solana said, “Let us help you. We want to share this house with you. Talk to us.”

Giulia expected more disembodied weeping and a quick séance wrap-up. The planchetters glanced at each other. The moment stretched.

A shuddering gasp broke it.

Solana’s back arched and her eyes bulged.

Seven faces gawked at her. Marion pushed back in her chair like she was trying to escape, but the chair legs scraped the floor and Solana’s head snapped down. Those distended eyes focused on Marion, who enacted a perfect imitation of a rabbit mesmerized by a snake.

“I protect this house.” Solana’s voice, but different. A higher register and a more formal syntax. One at a time, she pinned all seven of them with that gaze.

Out of the corner of her eye, Giulia caught movement from Gino but kept her attention on Solana.

“You are obliged to respect this house,” Solana/not Solana said. “I am its warder. No one will remove the treasure from this family.”

A quick intake of breath from somewhere else in the room.

Solana/not Solana’s face looked past the table; Giulia glanced quickly in the same direction. Mac stood by the glassed-in bookcase, also performing the rabbit-versus-snake pantomime.

“Who are you?” Mac whispered.

Solana/not Solana took her left hand off the planchette and pointed at Mac. “Do not shirk your duty.”

A flash from Gino’s chair. At the same instant, the power came back on. Light from the hallway spilled over the coffee table. Solana/not Solana gave another huge, dragging gasp and collapsed against the back of the couch. The candle flames blew out.

Twenty-Eight

Cedar jumped out of his chair and shoved Frank aside.

“Solana. Solana, wake up.” He patted her cheeks.

Joel, CeCe, and Anthony backed away from the planchette, rubbing their fingertips.

Before Giulia could offer to help with resuscitation, Solana opened her eyes. She raised her hands and inspected them, turning them front to back and rubbing the gold manicure.

“My hands look wrong.” Solana’s voice sounded like itself again. “Why do I have painted fingernails?”

“Solana?” her husband said.

She blinked several times, sat up, and looked around at the faces surrounding the table. “Who ended the Ouija session?”

Everyone started talking at once.

“It moved on its own. We didn’t manipulate it. Did we?”

“Mac really has a ghost.”

“Are you serious? The spirit spoke through me?”

“Oh, God, I’m not going to sleep for a week.”

“We’ve got a bottle of Jameson in our room.”

“I’ll pay you for a shot.”

Giulia scooped up her phone and stood. As though that movement broke a second trance, chairs were pushed back and the pacing started. Giulia aimed directly at Gino, who was speaking in a low voice with Joel.

“Let me see the picture, please?”

Gino gulped. “You saw my flash?”

Giulia bent her neck backwards to favor Gino with her patented Teacher Glare. “If no one else saw it, you can thank the well-timed return of electricity.”

He hung his head. The touch came through for her yet again.

“Solana was freaking me out. I wanted to see if she’d, like, mass-hypnotized us or if a ghost really took over her body.”

“And?” Giulia caught her hands clenching and unclenching.

“I haven’t looked at it yet. I have no spine.”

Joel tugged the phone out of his hand. “It’s a good thing I know your password.” He typed it and opened the photograph. “I’ll be damned.”

He turned the phone to show Gino, whose skin paled beneath his beard.

Then he handed it to Giulia.

Gino had snapped the photo at the moment Solana/not Solana pointed an admonishing finger at Mac. The bulging eyes had been real. So had the stern facial expression, unlike Solana’s general air of competent serenity.

“You heard her voice change, right?” Joel said to both of them. “I didn’t imagine it?”

“More important,” Gino said, “is whether you four pushed that planchette around the board yourselves to mess with the rest of us.”

“Swear to God, no,” Joel said. “Frank,” he raised his voice to cut across the babble, “tell me you didn’t mess with that planchette.”

“Swear to God,” Frank said.

“Neither did I,” Anthony said.

“Me neither,” CeCe said.

Eight heads swiveled as one to Solana, still on the couch.

Cedar got to his feet, emanating righteous indignation. It transformed his five foot seven hippieness into Mighty Protector of His Woman.

“Solana has never manipulated a séance and never will.”

“Sorry,” Joel and Roy mumbled.

Solana held up a hand. “It’s all right. They witnessed something extraordinary. The natural defensive human reaction is to protect the one-dimensional world they’re used to seeing.”

Giulia stepped forward, ingenuous mask in place. “Solana, tell us what we saw. You four who worked the planchette, what did you feel? Sorry, sorry, I meant you four who touched the planchette.”

“I felt nothing at first,” Joel said.

“Not for, like, five minutes,” CeCe said. “Then it got warm. Didn’t it?” She pointed her index finger at the three men.

Frank nodded. “First I felt warmth and then it started to vibrate.”

Anthony said with a show of reluctance, “Yes, I felt the warmth, but the vibration could have been our unsteady fingers.”

Joel said, “The temperature increase could have been body heat from our fingertips transferring to the wood.”

“Those phenomena occur during all of my Ouija sessions,” Solana said. “My website has many testimonials regarding them.”

“If you’re that skeptical,” Cedar said, “examine the planchette for yourselves.” He picked it up and held it out.

With an apologetic expression, Giulia took it. She made big motions of shaking it and trying to unscrew the little balls on the bottom for the four legs with her right hand. While doing that, her left fingertips searched for a minuscule switch or heat and vibration triggers.

Both hands came up empty.

“I can’t find anything.” She handed it back. “I apologize.”

Color returned to Solana’s face. “No apologies necessary. I’m glad you inspected the planchette. Cedar tells me that the Woman in White spoke through me.”

“It was freaky,” Joel said.

A benevolent smile touched Solana’s lips. “Truthfully, such a connection has only happened once before. Back in college, wasn’t it?” she said to her husband.

“Yeah, for that Day of the Dead festival.” He didn’t look pleased at the memory.

She nodded. “That spirit was powerful and unpleasant. I only expelled it with the help of my professor in Occult Studies.”

“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” CeCe said.

Startled laughter answered her.

“My grandmother used to say that,” Joel said. “I grew up in Georgia.”

“South Carolina,” CeCe said. “What part?”

They moved away from Solana into the sunroom too quickly for a casual change of topic, talking Southern food and family in shaking voices. Gino and Roy followed at a pace an unkind observer might have called “scurrying.”

Solana said, “I wish we had thought to bring the video equipment.”

Giulia’s hand went to her pocket, where her phone was probably recording the swish of cotton fabric against the speaker.

Cedar folded the Ouija board. “We couldn’t use a video on the website without getting signed permission. Too awkward after the fact. I know you’re for real and so do your followers.”

Frank and Giulia held out their hands to Solana. “Thank you for a fascinating experience,” Frank said.

Solana and Cedar shook hands. “It was our pleasure,” she said.

Anthony and Marion said, “Yes, thank you,” as they read through Marion’s notebook.

As Solana passed Mac, she said to her, “I need to rest after a session, but I’ll be happy to discuss any part of it with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Mac’s voice was brisk again. “I’ll call you. That would be very interesting.”

Mac turned away and began checking light switches in the living and dining rooms. Giulia waited until she returned to her office, then opened the glass front of the single bookcase in the living room.

“What’s up?” Frank said.

She beckoned him next to her. “Did you hear that voice crying when the planchette wasn’t moving?”

“I thought I did, but I wouldn’t swear to it.”

“You did. So did everyone else. At one point or another, everyone who wasn’t touching that thing looked for the source. Mac wasn’t in the room at first, then conveniently she was standing next to this when Solana became Mac’s ancestor ghost.”

“You believed that?”

“Of course not.” She felt under the lip of the highest shelf. “You know that crying that woke me up in the middle of the night? I’m betting we missed a recording device on a timer hidden in here.”

Frank started from the bottom. “That would mean she’s definitely playing you.”

“I know. I won’t get angry unless we find something.”

They found nothing on the undersides of the shelves. Giulia returned to the top shelf and tilted forward the first books on the left-hand side.

“These are half an inch farther forward than the ones on the next shelf.” She bent over and pulled out some of those books. “The backing here is brown pressboard, but up at the top it’s fake wood grain.”

“Not for aesthetics?”

“I’ll bet my next three cups of mint brownie coffee it isn’t.” She felt the backing with her right hand and stretched her left around to the back of the bookcase. “Aha.” Abandoning the shelves, she pressed herself against the wall and squeezed her hand into the gap between the bookcase and the wallpaper. “We have the tip of a standard toggle switch back here.”

“No shit.”

“Just enough sticks out for my little fingernail to flip it on and off. I bet it’s painted black to match the back of the pressboard, too.” She took out her phone and hit the flashlight app. “I win.”