Only Alice didn’t need to know that.
I set off down the covered bridge. The ancient boards groaned with protest as I slowly walked across.
The sound of rushing water came from below, and for half a second I doubted my decision to go ahead of the others. Maybe I should’ve brought them with me.
Then again, maybe it was best to keep them back. I turned around and saw Alice with the camera pointed in my direction. She shot me a thumbs-up.
Ruth had pulled out her binoculars and was eyeing the scene as if it was daylight and she was hunting a rare bird. Meanwhile, Tart closed her eyes. She must’ve been concentrating something awful.
She would have to in order to keep Ruth and Alice’s idle conversation from making her crazy.
I reached the end of the bridge. A cool wind picked up my hair and whistled through the trees. The scent of pine and dirt filled my nose. I brushed a loose strand of hair from my mouth and focused.
I closed my eyes. “Banshee, if you’re here, I need to speak to you. Please. It’s important.”
The wind died down at the same time as a tingle started at my temple and rushed to my feet.
I blinked my eyes open.
There she stood, a halo of white surrounding her. The woman from the night before floated before me—her dark hair streaming, her clothing billowing, her fine-boned frame seeming to stretch to the heavens.
“What do you need, child?” she said in a calm, soothing voice.
I realized my throat had dried at the sight of her. I swallowed to lubricate my vocal cords. “There was a murder here last night. A woman was killed before you appeared. Did you see anything?”
The spirit cocked her head to one side. “I may have, I believe.”
“What? What did you see?”
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
A long pause hung in the air. I wrung out my ear. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I understood you.”
The spirit floated up to me, stopping inches from my face. She glowed so brightly I could barely stand to stare at her.
“I said if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
What? That made no sense. Spirits didn’t talk like that. “I’m sorry?”
The banshee burst into laughter. “Ha ha, I’m just kidding. But I had you, didn’t I? You really thought I’d have to kill you if I told you what I saw.”
“Um…” None of this made sense. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Right then the banshee vanished in a poof of smoke. The lithe form disappeared and in her place stood a doughy ghost. A round woman with wide hips, a double chin, thick arms and legs and a glint in her eye that suggested she was full of more mischief than a four-year-old high on birthday cake and ice cream.
“I got you, didn’t I? Oh, it gets ’em every time. The old I-have-to-kill-you joke. But you fell for it, didn’t you?”
I scratched my head, completely confused. “What is this? Who are you?”
“Me?” She pointed to her chest. “Why, I’m the Backwoods Banshee, honey. Don’t you recognize me?” She lifted her boobs and dropped them. They bounced so low they nearly knocked into her ghostly knees.
“You’re not the same spirit I saw last night.” I walked around this charlatan. “Banshee! Banshee!”
“Sheesh.” The ghost whizzed in front of me. “This is what I get for playing the banshee? I’ve worked hard to appear every year on the same day, and sometimes I appear on other days as well. Yet no one believes it’s me when I show them my real face.”
She scratched her head in thought. “Maybe next time I’ll stop showing folks what I really look like. Make them think they’re looking at Cinderella instead.”
I slowly started to wrap my head around what this spirit was telling me. “You’re saying that you’re the banshee.”
