“What did you do?” Corinne yells over the ruckus, but I ignore her. “Why is Ollie raging?”
Ollie.
My head swivels around the room, seeking out the unpredictable spirit. He’s doing this to help prove my case. I know it.
“Tell her to look in my closet for a Nike shoebox. She’ll find a note I wrote to her and all the cash I saved.”
The words aren’t spoken out loud, but I hear them plain as day in my mind.
“You’ll need to quiet this down for her to hear.” As soon as I say it, he obliges.
The house settles and the place grows deathly quiet.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” Nick says, rushing into the room, eyes hard. “I heard yelling.”
Swallowing, I turn back to Mrs.Craft, ignoring Nick because I need to get this out. I don’t want to lose my nerve.
Her eyes are bugged out and her slight frame wobbles on unsteady feet. “Here,” I say, taking her by the elbow and helping herback onto the chair. “I understand this is... a lot, but I need you to listen to me. Ollie wants you to look for a shoebox in his closet...”
“Nike,” Corinne chimes in, as though I wasn’t going to get specific.
“Someone tell me what’s going on,” Nick booms, but again, I ignore him, focusing on Gloria.
“He left you a note and money.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“Did you not feel that? Ollie was trying to get your attention?”
She bites the inside of her cheek.
“Don’t believe me, but please look for the box.”
Nick grabs hold of my elbow, not roughly, but enough to get my attention. “What are you talking about, Alyssa? Can’t you see you’re scaring her?”
Mrs.Craft blinks several times, but eventually stands. “I’m okay, Nicholas. Stay here with them.” She walks off as quickly as her aging body will allow. Her pink nightgown hangs to her heels, and I hope she doesn’t trip on it. I won’t follow her. This is something that requires privacy.
Corinne pulls up a chair and makes herself at home. “What?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You had that look. I’ve been working while you’ve been trying to bring down the house. I deserve a break.”
I close my eyes and seek patience, choosing not to argue with her. Instead, I take a seat next to her while we wait.
Exhaustion is taking root, but it doesn’t help quell my nerves. What if this doesn’t work? What if she doesn’t find the box? Then where will we be? Stuck with a disruptive spirit who’s pissed that I failed him?
Fantastic.
Nick takes the seat next to me. “What did I miss?”
“Alyssa came into some knowledge that Ollie left a note for his mother. She felt obligated to tell her.”
I can feel his eyes bore into the side of my head. “How did you come into this information?”
Ever the detective.
“I can’t reveal my source.”
