I waded in dangerous water here. If I told Devlin about the photos, would that help or hinder me?
“I may have proof that Birda doctored some of the photos in her best-selling book.”
His eyes widened. “Do you or don’t you?”
I twisted my shirttail into a knot. “I don’t. Not on me. But if I could get proof…?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I would run it. I’m sure I could get my editor to sign off on that.”
I studied him, looking for any crack in the foundation of what he’d said, but saw none.
I sighed. “Of course we wouldn’t have to worry about this if you hadn’t erased Alice’s banshee footage.”
Devlin laughed. “Erased it? I never saw it.”
I frowned. “I thought she showed it to you. That’s what she said.”
He shook his head and sighed. “She tried, bless her heart, but it didn’t happen. I tried to pull it up, and then she accused me of erasing the whole thing.”
“Well it’s at my house now. Maybe I can take a look and figure it out. Then you’ll really have something to post because Alice caught the banshee on tape.”
His eyes hardened. “Well, if you can get proof of the banshee, I’ll run the story.”
I hiked my shoulder. “If there’s anyone you can think of who might’ve wanted to hurt Cora, can you let me know? Someone did try to frame Ruth.”
He rose and took my hand like a lady’s. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
I thanked him and headed to my truck, deciding to go to Tart’s place. She was staying at the motel outside of town. I called Ruth and Alice, telling them where I was headed and then left.
“I’ve got some information for you.” Francine popped into the passenger seat.
“Crap on a pussy willow!” The steering wheel seemed to jump in my hands, veering to the left. “Good night! You scared the Holy Ghost right out of me.”
“Darling, I’m anything but holy,” Francine said in her deep voice.
I rolled my eyes. “Can you please try not to scare me?”
She smoothed her hair away from her face. “I can try, but don’t make me promise.”
“Deal.” I gripped the steering wheel and zeroed my focus back on the road. “So. What do you have?”
“The spirit last night—I followed him.”
“And what’d you find out?”
“He’s part of an undercover spirit scene.”
I frowned so hard I felt my brows nearly pinch together. “What are you talking about?”
She polished her nails on her shoulder and inspected them. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a group of spirits who believe the town of Haunted Hollow belongs to them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They want to take it over, make the town even more ‘haunted’ if you will.”
I scratched an itch behind my ear. “I know there’s group at the cemetery who wants equal rights, but I don’t know anything about a mutiny in town.”
Francine’s mouth coiled into a wicked smile. “Well now you do.”
