Oscar had helped Montague back to the trailer, along with Ethan and Dr. Lawson. The others remained behind, not wanting to crowd an old woman who was clearly ailing.
Ms. Montague’s face was still unhealthily white, though at least her fingernails hadn’t gone blue. Her hand shook when she took the tea, slopping some of it onto the floor, though she didn’t seem to notice. “I’m fine,” she said, voice shaking as much as her hands.
“Are you sure?” Oscar asked. “Maybe we ought to get you to a doctor, just to check.”
Montague took a long breath—then straightened her shoulders. “No. It was just a shock, seeing her like that.”
“She didn’t look at me,” Dr. Lawson said, and Oscar thought he caught a trace of jealousy and longing in her voice. “Not even a glance. Just as she hasn’t come to me in dreams.”
Thankfully, the color was returning to Montague’s face. She took a sip of her tea, then another, before glancing at Oscar. “Perhaps we should talk in private.”
“What?” Lawson asked warily. “Why? Oscar is our medium—he should know anything relevant.”
“As you wish.” Montague took a deep breath, as if steeling herself to deliver bad news. “She wanted us to leave you.”
Lawson’s mouth opened, then shut. She looked like Montague had punched her.
Oscar really didn’t need to be privy to this conversation. “Maybe Ethan and I should?—”
“She wanted to break up with me?” Lawson managed.
“For both of us to.” Montague sighed and took a larger swallow of her tea now that it had cooled somewhat. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, in these circumstances. The seance was a terrible mistake, I see that now.”
Dr. Lawson took two unsteady steps to the bench seating and dropped onto it as if all the strength had left her legs. “Oh.”
Forty years was a long time to believe something, only to find out the situation hadn’t been what you’d thought at all. Montague could have kept it to herself, said she didn’t know why Robin had only focused on her.
But she hadn’t, and this was definitely none of Oscar’s business. “Would you like us to try again, without the two of you?” he asked Montague.
“If Robin won’t seek peace on her own, we have to push her toward it.” Montague looked down at her teacup. “The Devil’s Toybox is occupied, but I believe you used a Faraday tent at Cloven Oak Distillery to a similar effect, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Then that is what you must do here. Robin must cross over before we leave.”
Dismissed, Oscar went to the door, glancing back as he shut it behind him. Montague and Lawson’s positions had reversed; now Lawson was the one who was weak and pale, while Montague looked strong. Then the door closed, cutting them off from his sight.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
“Montague said what?” Tina gasped.
Nigel shared her surprise. Of all the times for Ms. Montague to bring up a matter best left in the past…
“Maybe she thinks airing things out will help Robin move on?” Chris suggested weakly. “Like, she’s still here because of unfinished business, and now she can cross over?”
“Unfinished business like breaking up the polycule?” Tina’s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. “I know ghosts are people, and people are dramatic, but that’s a Real Housewives level of petty.”
Oscar was finishing off his delayed dinner of ramen. “It’s not impossible,” he said, dabbing at his mouth with a paper napkin, “but I’ve read parts of Robin’s journal, remember? Not the private bits, obviously, but I feel like I got a sense of her personality just from what she wrote about mediumship. I don’t think she would linger on this side of the veil just to break up with Dr. Lawson.”
“So, are we going to do what Ms. Montague wants?” Nigel asked. “Lure Robin into a Faraday tent and haul her off the island if we have to, alongside Ullman?”
Oscar met his gaze. “You don’t think we should.”
Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “Robin wanted to communicate something to Ms. Montague, or I got that impression. Did you?”
“I sensed she wanted to talk,” Oscar agreed. “Nothing more specific than that. My back was to the mirror, but I take it she was focused on Montague?”
