using a Ouija board.
“Why do you say thinks?” she asked. “Because you don’t believe it’s possible?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. Can a ghost move things?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Can a ghost”-l hesitated-“lead a person somewhere, guide a person to a room or place?”
“Certainly you have heard accounts of ghosts revealing where they’ve hidden valuables,” she said.
“How did Avril die?”
Mrs. Riley studied me long and hard. “Do you want the real story, or the one the family told?”
“Both.”
“According to the family doctor, according to what Mr. and Mrs. Scarborough wanted him to say, it was an allergic reaction.”
“To what?”
“Redcreep. It grows here on the Shore. Since colonial times, girls and women have used mixtures of it as a beauty potion. It dilates the eyes, brings color into the cheeks. They found a bottle on Avril’s bureau.”
“And the real story?” I asked.
“It was an overdose. Avril, like a lot of girls back then, had taken redcreep before. She wasn’t allergic to it. She was sneaking out to see Thomas that night-Helen and I both knew it-and wanted to look pretty. She became ill at the mill, which was their secret meeting place. Thomas rushed her to the doctor, but she died on the way. An overdose of redcreep. Even good things can harm you if too much is taken at one time. So typical of Avril,” she added, “always wanting to do more, try more, have more, always flaunting limits.
“The family did not want a cause like ’overdose’ to be listed in the paper. That would make Avril responsible, and she never got blamed for anything. Of course, the Scarboroughs had their way, as money always does.”
Mrs. Riley rested her chin on her hands. Her voice sounded tired, as if the bitter edge I’d heard earlier had turned, and all she could feel now was the flat of the knife.
“I guess that’s most of my questions,” I said. “How much should I pay you?”
“There is no charge for today,” she replied, rising with me.
“Really, I planned to,” I told her, but she refused the money and led the way to the door.
“I would send your grandmother my regards,” she said, opening the door to downstairs, “but I doubt that would please her. It would be best not to mention that you saw me today.”
“Why?”
“It’s free advice, girl,” she replied. “Take it or leave it.”
“Thanks,” I said, and took a step down, which was a good thing since she closed the door on my heel.
I grabbed breakfast downstairs at the cafe then headed for work at Yesterdaze. Ginny was incredibly patient with me that day. I had to count a pack of singles four times before I got it right and gave her nickels when she asked for dimes.
At 3:10 I apologized for my mistakes.
She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Are we still on for Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday?”
“Yup.”
Ginny was giving me Friday off to rest up for “the weekend invasion.”
Instead of going home after work, I wandered up and down High Street and the streets around it, thinking about the things I’d learned from Mrs. Riley. I didn’t see the jeep pass by, not until Alex hung out the back, waving and calling my name. It stopped a half block ahead of me and two girls got out, Kristy and one of her echoes. They looked in my direction, then quickly turned away and said something to the guys.
As soon as they started up the walk, Alex called out, “Hey, Megan, where you going?”
“Nowhere special,” I answered as I got closer. “Just walking.”
“Want a ride?” he asked.
I glanced at Matt, hoping for an invitation from him. He said nothing.
“Climb in,” Alex encouraged me. “You can ride up front.”
“I don’t know if I want a ride that bad,” I told him. “I saw how Matt drove the first day I was in town.”
“How did I drive?” Matt asked.
“You nearly took Ginny’s fender with you.”
He frowned. “You sure? I didn’t see you.”
“No kidding!”
Alex laughed, then Matt smiled and reached across the seat to open the door. I climbed in.
We drove to a street of Victorian homes that faced the college campus, stopping in front of a tall white house with green shutters and a wraparound porch. Alex hopped out on the passenger side, then leaned on the edge of my door.
“Would you go out with me?” he asked.
I didn’t expect the question. “Um. .” I started to turn toward Matt.
Alex reached up and caught my face lightly with his hand.
“You don’t need his permission, do you?”
“I guess not.” I heard my cousin’s seat squeak. “It’s just that I’m not here for very long, and I don’t want to screw up the friendship you guys have.”
“If Matt doesn’t like me going out with you, then he’s screwing up the friendship, right?”
I thought about it, then smiled. “Right. So when?”
“Thursday night? We don’t have school Friday and there’s a big party at Kristy’s.”
“Oh, no, sorry. Sophie and I are going to a movie.”
He looked surprised. “Can’t you change it? I thought girls had a rule that when one of them got asked for a date, all other plans were off.”
“I don’t go by that rule.”
Behind me Matt laughed, a little too loudly, I thought.
“It’s not fair to the other person,” I explained. “Especially Sophie. She’s got enough to do with school and work. I don’t want to change plans on her.”
“You mean Sophie Quinn?” Alex asked. “We used to be best buddies when we were in grade school. Why don’t the four of us go to the party-you, me, Sophie, and Matt?”
Now I did turn to my cousin.
He shrugged. “Okay with me.”
“I’ll ask Sophie what she wants to do,” I told Alex, though I was pretty sure she’d be thrilled to be Matt’s date.
Alex probably thought the same thing, for he gave the door a satisfied thump. “See you Thursday night.” As we pulled away from the curb, I said to Matt, “Don’t worry about me and your friends. I’ll be on my good behavior.”
“I was just getting used to you,” he replied, “and now you’re going to change?”
“I can’t win with you!” I exclaimed.
“Didn’t know you wanted to.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Listen, Matt, before we get to the house, we have to talk.”
“About Grandmother,” he guessed, and slowed down a little. “Did she get worse after I left?”
“Not worse, but she’s really starting to get to me, the way she blames me for the things that are moved. I needed some information so I could figure out what was going on. I went to see Mrs. Riley.”
The firm set of his mouth and long silence told me he didn’t like what I had done.
“She used to work for the Scarboroughs,” I went on, “back when Grandmother and Aunt Avril were teens. Did you know that?”
“I knew she had worked at the house.” He flicked the Jeep’s blinker with one finger, then made a sharp turn. “And I know better than to trust her.”
“She told me that the Bible, the clock, and the painting were moved back to where they used to be years ago, when Avril was alive.”
