Page 44 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
My cheeks reddened. “I don’t know why I took it. I just sort of... panicked when I heard Michael and Lindsey come in the front door, and it seemed the logical thing to do at the time. If you’ll hang on a second, I’ll go get it....”
“No, please don’t. I think Adrienne must have wanted you to have it. Unless you have a habit of taking things from people’s houses.” She smiled so I wouldn’t take offense.
“No, not usually. I just felt... compelled to put it in my purse.” I chewed on my lip for a moment, straightening a string of popcorn and pinecones. I wanted to get a ruler to make sure each strand was evenly spaced, but I was fighting the impulse. Jack said it was the only way I could get better, to fight that impulse for precision—unless I decided to become a Formula One mechanic or a brain surgeon.
“Was the pillow important to Adrienne?”
Veronica smiled. “Yes. Our mother made it for her before Adriennewent to college. Even though she was nearby, Mom said she wanted Adrienne to remember that she was loved.”
The surge of perfume stung my eyes and I had to blink back tears. “Your poor mother,” I said, thinking of Nola and how it would feel if something happened to her. I couldn’t go beyond that thought.
“We were all devastated, of course, but especially our mother. I don’t think she really ever recovered.” Veronica brightened. “There was another box that we retrieved from her dorm room, full of clothes she’d made. She wanted to be a fashion designer—ever since she was a little girl. She was always making clothes for Mom and for me, and most of her friends. She was incredibly talented with a needle. I donated the clothes to a women’s shelter, knowing Adrienne would approve. It’s funny....”
When she didn’t continue, I prompted, “What?”
Veronica shrugged. “You know how you said you felt compelled to take the heart pillow? I felt the same thing when I saw that box of clothes. It was like Adrienne was speaking in my ear.”
She probably was,I wanted to say.
“You still have the necklace, right?” she asked.
I couldn’t tell her how I’d rediscovered it, so I just nodded.
Still looking at the tree, she said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you for it, but I thought...” She stopped for a moment, lifted her hand to touch a small wooden nutcracker ornament wearing British regimental red. “But I thought that as long as you held on to it there was a chance you would agree to help us.”
“Us?”
Veronica met my gaze. “Adrienne and me. Michael just wants to put it behind us. But I can’t move on.” She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “I sense her near me all the time. I don’t think she’ll rest until we find out what happened to her. To punish the person responsible. Which means I can’t give up. It’s just that Detective Riley hasn’t been able to turn up anything new despite the necklace and what it might mean. We’re back to where we started before I found that box.” She shrugged but I heard the hitch in her voice. “You were my last resort. I don’t know where else to turn.”
I turned back to the tree, focusing on a small robin’s nest ornament, the single egg made from a wooden button. My cheeks heated as if she’d just scolded me, which, I suppose, she had. “So,” I said. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were psychic, what would you ask me to do?”
“Hypothetically, if you were psychic, I’d want you to ask Adrienne who killed her.”
I thought for a moment, remembering the apparition I’d captured on my phone while taking pictures in her house. But I didn’t want to scare her. I paused, trying to find the right words. I cleared my throat and said, “From what I’ve been told, it never works that way. It’s like the living and the dead still speak the same language but just use a completely different dialect. And there’s, like, a... time delay. Remember what it used to be like speaking long-distance on a landline before fiber optics? Where one person asks a question, and by the time the other person hears it, they’ve already started asking their own question? So, no. It’s never as easy as just asking.”
I almost mentioned the Hessian soldier who’d once haunted my mother’s house on Legare Street. I’d had complete conversations with him, and I hadn’t understood why I’d been able to until my mother explained that he must have also been able to communicate with spirits when he was here on earth. But I couldn’t tell Veronica that. Because I wasn’t supposed to know what it’s like to speak to the dead.
I realized Veronica was staring at me.
“So I’ve heard,” I quickly added. “And a lot of times, the spirits aren’t strong enough to convey an entire message. It takes a lot of energy just to make themselves seen.”Or smelled,I almost added. “Then they have to find a way to deliver the message as quickly as they can, which usually lasts for a brief second. It’s why so many messages from the other side seem coded. It’s just quicker for them to say what they have to say.”
“So you’ve heard.”
I nodded. “Right.”
“In that case, I’d ask you to keep the lines open, then pay close attention when she gives you a message. Like compelling you to walk upstairs to an attic where you hadn’t planned on going.”
“And if I did, and I somehow managed to figure out who did this to Adrienne, what would you do?”
“I’d tell Detective Riley and leave out any mention of your name in any publicity that might surround the story of solving a twenty-year cold case. I’d never find the words to adequately express my thanks, but I’d promise to never stop trying.”
My eyes stung and I quickly blinked them. “That’s good to know.”
“So you’ll help me?”
Our eyes met and I swallowed. “If I were a psychic, I’d find it very hard to say no.”
Any response she had was lost as repeated loud knocks sounded on the front door. I rushed to open it, then wished I hadn’t. Rebecca stood on the front porch looking flustered and a little disheveled, which, for her, consisted of a hair out of place and her pink hair bow slightly askew. She carried a silver flocked tabletop Christmas tree, complete with a bedazzled star tree topper and a pink feather garland.
