Page 66 of It takes a Psychic

Thacker flinched and blinked a couple of times, unnerved. He made a visible effort to pull himself together.

“I d-didn’t believe Ms. Harp when she told me that people in t-town were saying the bride had arrived,” he stammered. “I was sure it was just another l-legend, you see. When it comes to Vance there are so many tall tales, aren’t there?”

“Explain,” Oliver said softly.

Thacker swallowed hard. “Surely you know the legend of the bride and the key?”

“No,” Oliver said. “Please enlighten us.”

This was not going well, Leona thought. Oliver was terrifying the poor man. Thacker looked as if he might faint from fright at any moment. That would only make things worse. Time to take charge.

“Don’t pay any attention to Mr. Rancourt,” she said, moving to step in front of Oliver. “He tends to get very intense when it comes to the subject of Vincent Lee Vance. Obviously he was not aware of the legend. I must admit I’ve never heard one regarding a bride and a key, either. Perhaps you could tell us more about it?”

Thacker tore his nervous eyes off Oliver and focused on her. She gave him a reassuring smile and he steadied.

“Yes, of course,” he said, pulling himself together. “I just assumed both of you were aware of the story. Everyone here in Lost Creek knows it, but personally, I never put much credence into it. There are a great many conspiracy theories that feature Vance.”

“Very true,” Leona said. “Please go on.”

She was aware that Oliver was waiting, as motionless as a crouched specter-cat, behind her, but he had the good sense not to interrupt.

“Yes, well, there are very few written records regarding the bride and the key,” Thacker said. His self-confidence returned as he talked. “In fact, the only document I’ve viewed personally is a certain letter I found quite recently here in the house.”

“I must admit I’m surprised you can locate anything in this collection,” Leona said. “You obviously have a very unique filing system.”

Thacker chuckled. “It does appear somewhat chaotic, doesn’t it? I’m afraid it was like this when I took possession twenty years ago and it’s only gotten worse. It’s so hard to resist the impulse to add to the collection. I have been working my way through the various rooms, trying toidentify the most important artifacts and documents. Whenever I find one, I make a point of relocating it here in the vault.”

“Do you have the letter?” Oliver asked, impatience edging his voice.

“Yes, indeed.” Thacker turned away and plucked a slim file off a shelf. “It was written by Vance himself.”

Leona stilled. Behind her Oliver abruptly dropped the intimidating aura and slammed back into what she thought of as the real Oliver persona, that of a passionate researcher who hungered for answers. He had priorities. Evidently a genuine Vincent Lee Vance letter ranked a lot higher than the need to frighten Thacker. She smiled, amused by the quick shift.

“It was addressed to his followers here in Lost Creek,” Thacker continued. “He called them the Guardians, you know.”

“Provenance?” Oliver asked sharply.

“According to the notes in this file, it was found in the local post office a few months after the rebellion had been put down by the Guilds,” Thacker said. “By then Vance had disappeared into the tunnels and was presumed dead.”

“But the rumors and predictions of his eventual return were already getting traction among conspiracy buffs,” Oliver observed absently. He did not take his eyes off the file folder.

“Indeed,” Thacker said. “The rebellion fell apart immediately after the Last Battle of Cadence. Suddenly there were no more idiots running around claiming to be Guardians, that’s for sure. No one here in town knew what to do with the letter, so my ancestor took it and filed it here in his collection. That’s all I can tell you about the provenance.”

“You said you only recently found it?” Leona asked.

“Yes,” Thacker said. “It was pure chance. I was showing some Era of Discord documents to a visiting collector, an elderly woman from Frequency, and there it was, stuck in with some unrelated materials. I assumed it was just another example of Vance’s rantings and ravings. By allaccounts he was quite delusional toward the end. But I must admit I am now very intrigued and more than a bit concerned, truth be known.”

“May I read the letter?” Leona asked.

“Certainly.”

Thacker handed her a pair of white gloves. She pulled them on with practiced ease and took the letter from him. Oliver leaned over her shoulder to get a closer look. She was intensely aware of his prowling tension charging the atmosphere.

She did a quick visual examination. The paper appeared authentic to the era. So did the faded ink. She looked up. “I don’t suppose you have another example of Vance’s handwriting handy for comparison purposes?”

“Sadly, no,” Thacker said. “But I’ve compared it to photographs of other documents attributed to him and it appears to be authentic.”

Oliver removed his glasses to take a closer look. “Yes, it does.”

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