“A mist?” Lawson replied, as though she wasn’t certain. “Is it her?”
“It is.” He turned all his attention on the spirit. “Robin, thank you for joining us. Is there anything you’d like to communicate?”
He expected some final words or goodbye for Lawson and Montague. Instead, a sense of urgency washed over him.
He took a calming breath to keep her emotions from infecting him. “We’re here to complete what you began. It’s time to put down your burden.”
“What is she saying?” Montague asked.
“Nothing so far.” But the urgency he sensed from Robin had become even stronger. Was she confused? Not every ghost realized they were dead.
“You’re a medium,” he went on. “Or you were in life. But you died a long time ago, and your work here is done. It’s time to cross over.” He visualized the gateway through the veil, silvery light spilling gently out, beckoning her through.
Robin shook her head violently.
Her refusal took him by surprise—as did what happened next. Her lifelike appearance, such as it was, faded. Her neck sagged to her left shoulder, the bones that should have held it up shattered, and the right side of her skull caved in. Broken bones pierced the skin of her right arm, and decay bloomed throughout her body, mold marking her pallid skin with dark splotches.
Then she began to walk toward the library.
“What is she doing?” Montague demanded, at the same moment the REM pod in the library went off.
“I don’t know—she’s going somewhere?” Oscar shook off his momentary shock and hurried after her.
The REM pod fell silent, but as he emerged into the hall beyond, the EMF rope leading up to the second floor went off. Robin was no longer visible, even to his eyes, but each sensor flashed and bleated as she passed it by, then fell silent again.
Only dimly aware of the others behind him, Oscar followed her up. The rope ended at the second story landing, so he paused and listened intently for the sound of the PolterPal in the hallway.
The PolterPal didn’t go off…but there was a loud creak as a door on the floor above swung open. It sounded close to the stairs, so Oscar hurried up and out onto the third floor.
The door to the tower room just off the landing stood open, revealing the dusty old vacuum, broom, and mop. He approached warily and saw the sheet over the stored paintings had been pulled back slightly.
“Where is she?” Lawson asked in a low voice.
Oscar shook his head. “I don’t sense her any more. I think she used up all her energy leading us here.” He directed his light at the paintings. “It seems she wanted to show us something.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Nigel’s nerves buzzed as he looked around the third floor hallway. It felt as though eyes were on him, on them all.
Possibly it was just his imagination. But since it might not be, he asked Oscar, “Are we alone? Because I feel like something is watching us.”
“It’s Robin,” Lawson said, as if reminding him.
Oscar was in the process of dragging the heavy old vacuum cleaner out of the way. He paused, head cocked, then said, “No. It’s Gloria. She’s interested in what we’re doing.”
“Get away from the stairs,” Lawson barked. Ethan, who had been lingering at the back of the pack, hurriedly obeyed.
Chris swung their camera in the direction of the hallway. “Great. The murderous kid ghost is just standing around staring.”
“She doesn’t feel angry.” Oscar frowned. “More…hopeful? It’s weird.”
Even so, she’d killed Robin. “Where is she?”
“The other end of the hall, near the kid’s bedroom.”
He opened his canister, walked a few feet in that direction, and poured a line of salt from one side of the hall to the other. “Is she happy to have her father gone?”
