Page 95 of It takes a Psychic

“Yes, you are, at least in this town.”

Oliver smiled his edgy little smile.

“What?” she asked, instantly suspicious.

“It just occurred to me that I’m sleeping with a legend. Not a lot of people can say that.”

“If you want to survive until we get off this mountain, you will not mention the wordlegendagain.”

“Got it,” he said. “You know, it occurs to me that we haven’t eaten anything except a couple of energy bars since dinner last night. We’ve had a lot of exercise since then. I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry, the road food arrangements have been handled.”

She unhooked her seat belt and leaned into the rear compartment to grab the paper sack she had placed there. Settling back into the front seat, she reached inside the sack and took out two large cups of coffee. She slipped the cups securely into the holders on the console and then she removed the box of muffins.

Roxy chortled approvingly.

“I’m impressed,” Oliver said. “Where did you get the coffee and muffins?”

“Roxy and I went into Edith Fenwick’s kitchen while you put the luggage in the car. We figured Edith owed us something after what happened last night.”

“In other words, you two stole the coffee and muffins.”

“Got a problem with that?”

“Nope. Pass the muffins.”

•••

When they were off themountain and on their way back to Illusion Town, Leona opened the journal and took a closer look at her prize. Shock jolted through her.

“I don’t believe it,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong? A fake after all?”

“No, it’s genuine,” she said. She looked up from the cramped writing.“Thacker was right. This isn’t Nigel Willard’s journal. It’s his brother’s. Cyrus Willard.”

“Is that a problem?”

“We didn’t know Nigel had a brother.”

“Interesting that he turned up in Lost Creek,” Oliver said.

“Yes,” she said. “It is. He also had a sister. Agnes.”

“Any indication she was interested in Vortex?”

“No way to know. She was institutionalized at a young age, according to this journal. Evidently, she was highly unstable. A danger to herself and others.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. All of the Willard siblings were convinced they were descendants of Vincent Lee Vance.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Hours later, back in herapartment, Leona contemplated Cyrus Willard’s journal. It was now lying on the coffee table next to the little specter-cat sculpture. She had spent the long drive from Lost Creek studying the contents.

She picked up her glass of wine and considered what she had learned.

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