“Of course you’re invited,” Ilona said.
“All right, all right,” Ana said. “Just get down here.”
“Is it dark enough? Want it spookier?” Dan teased.
“That fog is spooky enough,” Ilona said, and shivered.
“It’s just fog,” Christina said, barely managing not to shout. Damn. It wasn’t like her to be so edgy, but it was unnerving to realize how closely she fit the description of the victim of a serial killer.
Either a copycat…
Or a maniac who had somehow escaped detection for twelve years.
“And don’t forget the moon,” Ilona added.
“Are you thinking werewolves?” Tony teased her.
“There are enough real monsters out there,” Christina said. “There’s no need to make up more.”
There was a sudden uncomfortable silence in the room. She realized she had snapped out the words rather than simply speaking them.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. What was wrong with her? It was just…
It was just that stupid Ouija board and the idea of talking to spirits. She suddenly found the past welling up in her mind, a vision that was far too real. She could see Gran, after her grandfather had died. Sitting in her chair, looking at her so somberly. She’d dreamed that she’d talked to her grandfather. A psychology professor had once told her that such dreams were defense mechanisms, a way to reconcile oneself to losing someone. But Gran had said, “It’s dangerous. You have opened a door….”
That was just Gran and the Irish speaking. She had never had such dreams again. Not even when she had lost her parents.
All of that was far behind her now. She was a perfectly rational, sane person, and it was just the Irish sense of fun that made them all pretend to believe in banshees and leprechauns and even dreams.
“Okay, Ana, let’s show everybody how it’s done,” she said, then lowered her voice teasingly. “It was a dark and stormy night…no, it was a dark and foggy night, with a strange, full moon rising above the mist.”
Her light banter didn’t seem to be helping her mood any, she thought, and apparently it was obvious.
“You okay, Christie?” Mike asked.
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“My fault,” Mike said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Mike, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at anyone. I guess I’m just tired.”
“You’re really okay?” Dan said softly.
“Yes, of course. Come on, Ana. Let’s do this Ouija thing and be done with it, okay?”
“Hello, Ouija board,” Ana said, as if she were greeting an old friend.
Christina forced a grin, then set her fingertips very lightly on the planchette, which took off, slowly spelling out “Hello, good evening.”
“Is there a spirit in you tonight, Ouija board?” Ana asked.
“Is she for real?” Christina heard Tony whisper to Dan.
“Who knows?” Dan replied.
“Real? Real is what we make it,” Mike put in.
Christina knew that she wasn’t moving the planchette, so Ana had to be the one causing it to spell out the answer.
“Y-E-S,” Ilona read softly.
“Who are you?” Ana asked.
They all stared as the planchette began to move again and Dan read aloud, “B-E-A-U-K-I-D-D…Bookid?”
“It must mean boo, kid,” Mike said. “Boo, like Halloween. Kid, like a trick-or-treater.”
“No,” Dan murmured. “B-E-A-U. Beau, like a man’s name.”
“Like General Beauregard, the Confederate military leader,” Tony offered. “Right?”
“Beau Kidd. The detective who was supposedly the Interstate Killer!” Dan gasped.
“You did that on purpose!” Mike accused Ana.
“The hell I did,” she retorted adamantly.
“The thing moves by the power of suggestion,” Mike said impatiently.
“Ask him what he wants,” Dan said. “Watch—it will spell out, ‘I was framed. I’m innocent.’”
“What do you want?” Ana asked the spirit softly, ignoring Dan.
Christina gritted her teeth, longing to lift her fingers from the planchette, but somehow she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.
The planchette continued to move.
It was Ana, damn her. She had to be forcing it.
But what was really unnerving Christina was that she didn’t think Ana was forcing it.
Dan whispered behind them, “Puh-lease. You’d think we were still teenagers, telling scary stories out in the woods.”
“Be quiet. It’s spelling something,” Ana said impatiently.
“H-E,” Mike began.
“L-P,” Dan finished.
“Help,” Ilona breathed.
“Hang on, it’s not finished,” Christina said.
“They must be moving it,” Tony whispered to Ilona. “But they’re good. Spooky, huh?”
“‘Help,’ again,” Mike said. “It’s getting kind of monotonous, don’t you think?”
What other letters added to “help” would make another word? Christina wondered as the planchette kept moving.
“‘Help me please,’” Dan whispered.
The planchette was practically racing around the board.
Help me please help me please help me please….
Then, suddenly, it came to a definite stop in the middle of the board.
The room fell dead silent, even the doubters momentarily spellbound.
A thunderous knocking broke the silence and brought a scream from Ilona’s lips. As if in response, the planchette seemed to rise and soar straight into the air.
And then they heard the front door burst open.
3
“What the hell?” Dan demanded.
Jed stared back at his old family friend, wondering why he looked so spooked. Okay, maybe he’d opened the door a bit more forcefully than necessary, but it hadn’t been locked.
Although even if it had been locked, he would have forced it open, anyway, he had to admit.
He was definitely on edge, he thought, but he’d also heard someone scream.
“You tell me,” Jed said to Dan. “What the hell is going on in here? I heard a scream.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Sorry.” He stepped back so Jed could come in and closed—and locked—the door after him. “Good to see you, Jed. The screamer was Ilona, Tony’s fiancée. She got spooked after Ana insisted on playing with the Ouija board.”
“That’s why the dim lights, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” Daniel agreed dryly.
By then they had reached the parlor and Ana