Page 44 of Ghost
Mr. Weaver pointed his gnarly finger in my direction. “Girl, you are bordering on insubordination. Keep your eyes averted, lest you be tempted. I have no desire to go anywhere today.”
I hadn’t even realized I had been staring, and I glanced away. It was obvious that despite his scholarly side, this was the same man. He was only slightly less terrible than I previously assumed.
Besides, what did he think I would be tempted over? Certainly not him.
“Is he being mean again?” Julian asked, pulling me closer to his side. “Do you want us to call Damen now? He’d get rid of him so fast—”
It was an enticing offer, but I couldn’t deal with Kasai’s sassiness right now.
“No.” I picked my sleeve, my mind going over Mr. Weaver’s story. “But you might find this interesting.” I proceeded to—as closely as possible—tell the boys what Mr. Weaver had said. Apparently I had gotten close enough, Mr. Weaver offered no complaints.
But as I neared the end of his story, one thing stood out to me.
“Mr. Weaver, were you killed because you looked into the history of this house?”
Chapter Seventeen
Bianca
Cause
The air seemed to shift at my question. Miles and Julian tensed—their wary gazes fixated on me.
Mr. Weaver’s expression laced with fury. “That is precisely what I’m saying.”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. It was over.
Even if my parents let my ignoring them slide. Even if Finn decided to leave me be. Everything was going to change. My future was far worse than forced psychological care. Instead, I was going to prison.
Everything had started with me. I, basically, opened this case. I had dragged others into my mess. And because of that, a man’s life had been lost.
Justice, surely, would be swift and terrible.
“Bianca!” I hardly noticed Julian pulling me into his lap. There was no room for embarrassment. His demeanor was clinical as he ran his fingers over my face. “What’s wrong?”
Miles jumped through Mr. Weaver to get to me, his fear of ghosts forgotten. He crouched beside us. “Why do you look sick? Is he doing something to you?”
I had never felt more guilty in my life.Would it be manslaughter? Possibly involuntary manslaughter.Either way, I was surprised Julian and Miles hadn’t made the connection already. It was only a matter of time.
“I’ve seen that look before.” Mr. Weaver eyed me as he floated above the coffee table. “You’re thinking about something stupid, aren’t you? It is easy to deduce. Aine is not here, and you are. And you are somehow mixed up with this bunch of miscreants. I can only conclude that Gregory reached out to me because of you.”
I flinched at his harsh words. He was right, it was obvious.
“Bianca,” Julian snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t lie to them.
“It’s my fault he’s dead.” I whispered. Julian’s blue eyes blurred in front of me. My chest was tight, and it became harder to breathe. “Dr. Stephens had him doing research for me. And now he’s dead. I’m a criminal.”
There was a derisive snort. And Mr. Weaver’s voice overwhelmed the boys’ protests. “What youareis ridiculous. You seem to think you’re important enough to have control over other people’s actions.”
I blinked at his frowning form. But this time I noticed all the life he might have had left in his decrepit frame. Despite being old, he was a broad man. He must have been strong. Perhaps he had even dreamed of wrestling a bear before death claimed him. And now, because of me, he never would.
“Besides,” Mr. Weaver shrugged, “I’ve already told you, I have no regrets. I have things to do, and can accomplish far more in this form.”
“How could you even think that?” Julian sounded furious, and his hands on my face forced my attention to leave Mr. Weaver and turn to him.
Miles was sitting on his heels, studying me. As if he was just noticing something for the first time. “You’re seriously worked up over this, aren’t you?”
