Now that things were back to normal, I couldn't refrain from expressing my disbelief. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Praxythea. Every time you try to locate someone psychically, you come up with the phrase ‘by the edge of running water.’ It's getting to be a bit much.”
Luscious interrupted. “Sounds like the old limestone quarry on Seven Springs Road. But it's about five miles west of where the kids say Kevin got lost.”
“They might not have told the truth,” I pointed out. “If Kevin's cousins did something to hurt him, it's quite possible they'd try to throw the searchers offtrack by lying about where they'd last seen him.”
I knew there was the off-chance possibility that Prax-ythea was right about the quarry. No matter what I thought about Praxythea's psychic ability, the quarry had to be checked out. And, much as I hated to admit it, she'd had some amazing successes with police departments in other parts of the country.
“The child in your vision-he was dead, wasn't he?” I asked.
Staring deep into the fire, she nodded.
Luscious jumped to his feet. “I'll get divers out there right away. We'll know by morning.”
He placed several calls. For once, he sounded sure of himself and in control of the situation. Garnet would have been proud of him.
“I'm heading out there now,” he said. “You two try to get some rest.”
“No way!” I protested. I was now wide awake. “I'm going with you.”
“So am I,” Praxythea said. “I can help you locate the exact spot to dive.”
By four that morning, the area on the limestone cliffs above the quarry was lit by the flashing lights of dozens of emergency vehicles. Whoever wasn't searching the mountain near Stinking Spring was here to help.
Television crews from Hagerstown, Harrisburg, and York stretched out their cables and set up floodlights and cameras. I spotted the Poffenbergers being interviewed by a reporter who couldn't have been more than three days out of college. Although I couldn't hear him, I could imagine the dialogue: “Tell me how you feel…”
Teams of divers, trained in scuba techniques and body recovery, took turns diving into the still, black depths of the water below.
Praxythea and Luscious had their heads together, studying a map. Since there was nothing I could contribute, I sat down on a rocky perch overlooking the rescue scene. Ginnie Welburn and Oretta Clopper, bearing doughnuts and paper cups full of steaming coffee, soon joined me.
“I thought you two were up on the mountain,” I said, moving over to make room for them on my rock. Oretta lowered her bulk with a grunt, making me wonder how she was ever going to get back on her feet.
“We thought we could be of more use here,” Oretta said.
“Besides, nothing's happening up there. This is where the action is,” Ginnie said as she squeezed in between us.
Even in the dim light, their drawn faces showed the stress we'd all been under for the last seven or eight hours. I wanted to say something light and clever to relieve the tension. I settled for “You two appear to have become best friends.” Not exactly a bon mot, but at least it brought a trace of a smile to Ginnie's lips.
“We had a lot of time to get acquainted tonight,” Gin-nie said. “We discovered we're practically neighbors.”
“I know Oretta lives on the other side of Moon Lake, but I didn't know you lived nearby,” I said.
Ginnie nodded. “At the end of your street. I've always harbored a secret desire to live in a grand Victorian mansion. Finding one I could actually afford was a dream come true.”
“They are fun to live in,” I said. “Especially in the summer when you don't have to heat them. I've heard mine's haunted.”
Oretta, who had been sipping coffee and listening to the conversation, broke in with a sniff. “They all are, Tori. If you believe local legend, Moon Lake has even more ghosts per square inch than Gettysburg.”
I was disappointed to learn my ghost story wasn't unique, particularly when Ginnie said, “Mine is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of a woman who died in childbirth.”
Oretta began a long, complicated commentary describing the play she planned to write someday about a haunted house, when a shout from below captured our attention. We waited for a few minutes, but nothing more happened.
“Do you really think Kevin's down there?” Ginnie asked with a shudder.
“Praxythea could be right,” I said. “She has been in the past.”
“This is awful!” Ginnie said softly. Oretta took her hand, and we watched the divers go down, again and again.
The dark night sky was brightening to the gray light of dawn, when we heard a shout from below. “Found something.”
As people rushed past us to look down at the water, Ginnie and I pulled Oretta to her feet. From our vantage point, we watched a diver hoist himself out of the water onto a yellow rubber raft, where his diving partner waited. He laid a small item on the floor of the craft, then tumbled backward into the water.
“What is it?” someone called.
The man in the raft waved his arms and yelled something that was swallowed up in the noise of the crowd.
The diver reappeared on the surface, passed another object to the man in the boat, and disappeared beneath the surface once more.
So many people were calling out questions that there was no chance of hearing the answers. Luscious stepped forward with a battery-operated bullhorn and commanded the crowd to be quiet. An eerie stillness settled over the quarry. “What did you find?” he asked through the horn. His words bounced off the cliff face.
The man below cupped his hands and shouted back, “Bones! Looks like a child's skull.”
CHAPTER 4
SUNSHINE STREAMED IN THROUGH MY BED room window. What time was it? Where were my cats? And who was cooking bacon in my kitchen? The events of last night and early this morning flooded back into my mind as I sat up in bed.
After finding the skull, the divers had brought up several more bones. They'd made a dozen more unproductive dives after that. Finally, they abandoned the search and carried what they'd found to the top of the cliff. The white bones lay obscenely on a flat rock for all to see.
Mrs. Poffenberger and Oretta Clopper had been taken away by ambulance, so Mrs. Poffenberger wouldn't learn until later that the coroner immediately determined the skeletal remains couldn't possibly be Kevin's. Even to a layperson like myself, it was obvious that the bones had been underwater for a long, long time.
Luscious suggested that everyone return to Stinking Spring and continue searching for Kevin in the mountains. The spectators and the television crews left; the divers remained, to look for more bones in the daylight.
Sometime in the pearly predawn hours, Praxythea and I had returned to the mansion. I'd pulled some sheets from the linen closet, handed them to her, and suggested she take any one of a dozen empty bedrooms. So much for being a gracious hostess. Then I removed my shoes and fell into bed, still wearing my slacks and sweater.
Wide awake now, I flung covers to the floor. Since no one had called with good news, I was sure Kevin hadn't been found. I needed to get in touch with Luscious to learn how the search was going. I also had a borough council meeting to cover, and I had to get to the office to write up my account of last night's tragic discovery.
I showered and dressed quickly, then, thinking I looked pretty damn good in hip-slimming navy slacks, white
