“That’s absurd.” Evelyn held tight to the back of a chair. “I insist you explain this charade.”
Clint Dunham banged the door against the wall. His hand on his wife’s elbow, he pushed her a little ahead of him and they were in the hallway.
Alison picked up her purse from the floor. “It looks like the party’s over. I never knew seances could be so much fun.” She moved purposefully toward the door.
Near the door, Laverne leaned against Ronald, her face pale and drawn. He looked calm, but there was a gleam of malicious satisfaction in his cold blue eyes as he cockily stared at Evelyn. “Laverne is nothing more than a conduit. If there are questions, perhaps you can answer them among yourselves. As James said, there appears to be trouble in the family.” He slid an arm around Laverne and guided her into the hall.
Shannon flung out her hands. “Did you hear what she said? That was supposed to be James’s voice saying someone murdered Jack.” Shannon stared at Diane. “Do you think that was James?”
Diane’s face crumpled. “Oh. If James said so…”
Evelyn clapped her hands. “Diane, you are the world’s biggest fool. The dead do not communicate.”
Hmm. That all depends. Generally speaking, Evelyn was right. Certainly in this instance she understood a scam when she saw it.
Evelyn folded her arms, her gaunt face grim. “James is not speaking through that absurd woman. In between those fake heavy breaths, she spewed disconnected, senseless phrases. James was never imprecise in his life. Or, I imagine, in death. Your dear friend Laverne and her smooth-tongued husband used the cover of a seance to allege that Jack was murdered. If they had proof, the responsible action would be to notify the police. However, they obviously have no proof. I fail to understand their objective. Possibly they simply wish to create unpleasantness. My advice to everyone present is to dismiss this evening’s performance and remember that Jack died in an accidental fall.” She moved majestically toward the door.
There was an instant of silence, then Alison nodded approvingly. “I’m with Evelyn. And now good night all. I won’t claim this was the most enjoyable evening I’ve ever spent here, but it certainly has been one of the most interesting.”
Shannon swung toward Alison. “How can you act like this is all funny? Jack’s dead. Jack’s dead!” She burst into tears.
Jimmy took a step toward her. “Don’t cry, honey.”
She stared at him, her eyes wide, her face stiff. “I heard you say you were going to hurt him. Did you?” She plunged past him.
Margo hurried after her running daughter.
Jimmy looked shocked. He called after her. “Shannon, come back.”
Running steps were his answer.
His mouth twisted in despair. He walked heavily toward the hallway.
His mother reached out a hand. “Jimmy…”
He didn’t look back.
Diane was alone in the library. She stumbled to the chair that had belonged to James Hume, sank into it. She picked up his glasses, cradled them in one hand. Tears streamed down her face. “James, I’m frightened.”
Laverne slumped back in an easy chair. She looked ill, her eyes staring and glazed, her face raddled. “That was terrible.”
He lifted the glass in a toast, took a deep drink. “To the contrary, you were never better. That’s the best James you’ve ever done.”
She lifted a shaking hand. “Didn’t you feel it?”
He was impatient. “You know it’s bogus.”
Her lips worked, and the words were almost indistinct. “I used to feel things. I could help people. I knew things no one else knew, but you pushed me and made me tell people things for money. Now there’s nothing there. I said what you told me to say, but there was something terrible in that room. Didn’t you feel the hatred?”
He smiled. “Hatred? Who cares? They’re scared.” His voice was soft. “I watched them. If you think we got money before, wait and see what I do now.”
A sudden flush stained her cheeks. “I hate you.”
“Poor Laverne.” There was cold dislike in his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t like money. I know better. If you want money for Jenny, you’d better keep your mouth on straight.”
She stared at him and spoke as if she hadn’t heard his words. “Tonight you had me say that Jack Hume was murdered. Is that true?”
He looked amused. “Of course. Why do you think someone tried to kill Kay Clark last night?”
Laverne moved uneasily in her chair. “Someone pushed that vase?”
“Someone pushed that vase and I know who.” He sipped at his drink.
“What are you going to do?”
He gave a little shrug. “Nothing for now. I’ll let the pot simmer tonight. Tomorrow I’ll make some calls, offer some constructive advice, and pick up some consulting fees.”
“Ronald, I feel danger. Something dark and terrible—”
