Our parents never entertained. We never had friends over. There had been no dinner parties, birthday parties, or friendly drop-ins. No relatives. The only time strangers had come into our home was the day the police had come to search for Ben.
This house was our misery, but it was our inner sanctum. No one else was allowed in.
Yet Vail had invited her. I stood there arguing silently with myself, my arms crossed, as Charlotte waited, finally becoming restless. Before I could decide, Violet’s car pulled into the drive behind Charlotte’s.
Violet got out and hefted a paper grocery bag onto her hip. “Who’s that?” she asked me, as if Charlotte wasn’t a sentient being.
“Vail invited a ghost hunter here to investigate,” I replied.
Violet went very still. Her face blanched and her knuckles went white on the grocery bag. Charlotte could get all the degrees she wanted, she could drive around with her briefcase, asking questions in her accent, but she would never know as much about ghosts as my sister did.
Violet and I exchanged silent thoughts. No, we weren’t going to tell her. We didn’t tell people about Violet. Not now, not ever.
“Really,” Charlotte said. “I understand the distrust, I do. But if you’re truly not going to let me in, please hurry the decision along.”
Violet stepped onto the porch. She had regained her composure, and her expression was her most familiar one—dark brows lowered, eyes blank, corners of her mouth turned down. It was an expressionthat saidDon’t fuck with me, and it worked on most people. She usually wore it in public, which was why people called her a bitch.
“Sorry,” she said to Charlotte. “I’m Violet, and this is Dodie. Our brother didn’t tell us about you.”
“So I’ve gathered,” Charlotte said.
“Come in.” Violet opened the front door and held it for her. “How much has Vail told you?”
Charlotte set her briefcase down and looked around the front hall. “He said that this is your family home, that your parents died, and that you’re here to clean out the house. He said that there’s a manifestation that he can’t explain.” She turned to us. “He described it to me, but I’d like to hear from both of you, as well.”
Violet made a sound in her throat that was vaguely derisive. She walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Charlotte followed Violet, and I trailed behind.
Vail was in the kitchen, cleaning out cupboards again.
“How do you know Vail?” Violet asked Charlotte, as if Vail wasn’t in the room. She put the grocery bag on the table and began to empty it, setting the items together like a display.
“We’ve crossed paths over the years,” Charlotte replied. “We know the same people. We’ve referred cases to each other.”
“Rarely.” Vail didn’t look away from the dented cans he was pulling from the cupboard.
“Of course,” Charlotte said. “I’m aware that you only contact me when under duress, Vail. And yet I must reiterate that you called me here.”
Vail glared at her.
“Well, well,” I said, breaking the silence. “Charlotte, don’t tell me you’re one of Vail’s heartbroken conquests.”
“I am not,” she said in a tone that allowed no argument. She turned back to Vail. “Colorado wasn’t my fault,” she said to him, her voice gentler.
Vail’s throat worked. He seemed to be wrestling with what to say. “I know,” he said finally.
“It wasn’t yours, either,” Charlotte said. “Not every case goes the way we want it to.”
“I know,” he said again.
“Good. Then tell me what’s going on here. Show me what you can.” They seemed to have forgotten Violet and I were in the room.
I looked at Violet. She looked back at me, her eyes wide.
Vail closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his forehead. “I told you on the phone. I thought it was a visitation, but it didn’t follow the usual pattern. It was in a different room, there was no window for the light source, and it grabbed me. A physical touch, and I know I didn’t imagine it because I broke a vase on it. It spoke in my ear. It wrote on the wall.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ll want to see that. Go on.”
“There were footprints.” Vail dropped his hand. I could see how tense he had been, how it was wearing on him. “I took pictures, but they’re still being developed. Things have been moved in the attic. Last night, there were knocks in the attic.”
