“I’m sorry?”
“Wanting to play,” Samuel clarified. “She was a white woman, married, the preacher’s daughter. Wanted a taste of the forbidden. I didn’t see no harm in it. We were casual sort of lovers. Everyone knew of us, wasn’t like we kept quiet. But after about a month, she greeted me at the door with a gun she’d gotten from somewhere. I tried asking her what she was doing, but she just shot me in the chest. Last thing I remember was bleeding out on the floor, listening to her carry on like she’d been the one in danger.”
Oh…fuck. This was worse than I’d thought. She hadn’t just jilted him, she’d killed him?!
Gwyn let out a horrified gasp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh my god. That’s so awful! Did she get arrested?”
“Yeah. Much good that did. She was acquitted.”
“Acquitted,” Brandon repeated, eyes flying wide. “For cold-blooded murder? Oh, wait, I bet she pulled the defense of ‘he was too scary, I was only defending myself.’ Didn’t she?”
Samuel’s lip curled with distaste. “You got it. Plus, no one cares if a black man dies.”
It now made a bit more sense to me why Samuel had approached Brandon. He’d seen a potential ally, and he was instinctively trying to work through the trauma he carried. Poor man. I’d have given him a hug if I thought he’d accept it.
“We care now,” Gwyn promised him, her expression sad. “What was done to you was very wrong. I’m so sorry.”
Samuel stared at her for a long second before his lips turned up in a sorry caricature of a smile. “Thank you, miss. You’re a good one.”
“What’s your full name?” Gwyn pressed. “And hers? I can report your story to the local historian so people will know what she really did.”
Oh? His aura visibly shifted, the pale yellow turning more beigy. “You’d do that?”
“Of course!”
I stepped in. “Actually, we can boost you enough to record your testimony, then submit it. You can tell your own story.”
“I…” Samuel’s brow furrowed. “You know, let’s do that.”
Gwyn whipped her phone out, and I switched spots with her, boosting Samuel enough to be visible on screen and clearly audible. I spouted the normal prerequisites, then said, “All right, Samuel, go ahead.”
He repeated the same story he’d just told us, with more details. Names, dates, location, all of that. Then he wound down, staring dead ahead as if seeing something not present.
“Abigail Williams, I hope your soul is in hell for what you did to me. I didn’t do nothing to you. You didn’t have to kill me. You’re a bad, rotten woman, and I hope you’re paying for what you did.”
Gwyn stopped recording, letting her phone drop to her side. “I’m sure she is. Cold-blooded murder isn’t forgivable.”
“Thank you, Gwyn.”
Samuel’s aura was much clearer now. I felt we could pass him on. “Samuel, I can help pass you. You might not have been able to on your own, but with two Mediums, this is doable. Would you like to move on?”
“I would, sir. I would.” But he paused, really looking at us. “Before I go, I want to help you. Means a lot to me, you stopping and listening to my story. Let me repay the favor. You was asking after the man who runs the ghost mob. I know ’im. There’s a man, Joey Halfacre, and he’s pure evil. Didn’t used to be. I knew him back in the day. He was one of the first miners who ever worked a prospect out here. But when the copper kings moved in, he lost his prospect, couldn’t make the same money he did before. It twisted him, made him bitter and violent. He took to drinking. Died in a bar fight. Ever since then he’s been runningwild. Got more than a few men to follow along with him, men who were also disappointed with life.”
A hiss of triumph caught behind my teeth. Finally, someone who knew him! I leaned in, all ears now. “We’ve heard of this man. Rumor has it he’s trying to turn demon.”
“I don’t know if he’s trying for that, but he sure is becoming one.” Samuel shook his head sadly. “Now him and his mob are tearing through the town. Hurting people just for the thrill, much like that woman did to me.”
Good to have confirmation of it really being him, but it wasn’t a surprise. “Anything else you can tell me? How big is his mob?”
“I avoid the area he likes to haunt, so I’m not sure. Dozens, at least, from what I hear.”
Fucking hell. Not the answer I wanted.
“You be right careful going to that theater, all right?”
My ears perked. “Theater? Wait, the old brothel turned theater in town? That building?”
“That’s the one,” Samuel confirmed with a grimace. “He mainly haunts there. Goes all over town, really, but he likes the theater best.”
