Page 61 of It takes a Psychic

“I think the real question is, what don’t they eat?” Leona said. “Roxy will be fine. I’ll fix a plate for her from whatever is on the buffet, if that’s okay.”

“There will be an extra charge,” Edith warned.

“No problem,” Leona said.

“All right, then,” Edith said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Oliver picked up his coffee and looked across the small room at Baxter. “Find any more evidence of Vincent Lee Vance’s late-night visit?”

“We did, as a matter of fact,” Baxter said, clearly elated. “The rez-screen in room three-oh-eight also came on. The door was unlocked so we took the liberty of checking inside. I hope that was okay, Ms. Fenwick? We didn’t touch anything.”

Edith Fenwick snorted. “Don’t worry about it, but I can tell you right now you wasted your time. Those old rez-screens act up a lot at night. You can’t blame it on Vance’s ghost. The problem is Margo Gibbs.”

“Who’s Margo Gibbs?” Darla asked.

“She runs the station at the end of Main Street. She installed the rez-screens here at the inn. Must have done something to them that allows her to rez them remotely whenever she takes a notion—which is whenevershe takes a notion to scare the tourists. The rest of us put up with it because channel one is the only rez-screen entertainment available in these parts.”

Baxter looked crestfallen. Darla remained skeptical.

“Are you sure that’s why the rez-screens came on last night?” she asked.

“Margo drinks.” Edith grunted. “A lot. Says she likes to give visitors a little thrill. Claims they came to town to see a ghost, so she gives ’em one. She knew there were some guests here at the inn last night, so she must have cranked up that old Vincent Lee Vance video. Sorry it woke you up.”

Evidently unconvinced or maybe just optimistic, Baxter and Darla went back to their meals.

Edith looked at Leona and Oliver. “This is your day to visit Thacker, isn’t it? Remember what I said yesterday—you’ll want to take a real close look at whatever he tries to sell you.”

“We appreciate the advice,” Oliver said.

Leona rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get breakfast.”

Oliver stood, too. “Good idea.”

Evidently realizing where they were headed, Roxy bounced up onto Leona’s shoulder. From her perch she surveyed the muffins, eggs, toast, cereal, and fruit on the buffet. She chortled encouragingly when Leona selected a muffin.

“Okay,” Leona said. “One for you, too.”

Roxy chortled again.

“Right,” Leona said. “Two for you.”

Roxy chortled.

“Choose something else,” Leona said in low tones. “We can’t take all of them. The other guests might want some more.” She continued on down the buffet table. “How about some eggs?”

Roxy chortled approval.

By the time they reached the end of the buffet table, there was a small mountain of food on Roxy’s plate.

“It will be interesting to see if she actually finishes all that,” Oliver remarked.

Roxy cleaned the plate. When she was done, she chortled, bounced off the table, and fluttered across the dining room. She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Uh-oh,” Leona said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

She jumped to her feet and hurried to the kitchen doorway. Edith was at the back door with Roxy, who was chortling.

“I’m not sure if I should let you outside,” Edith said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Let me check with Dr. Griffin.”

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