Free Secrets and High Spirits: Secrets, Book 4 by Lou Harper Page B

floor and extracted from it a single, clear crystal hanging from a silver chain.
    “Should we leave?” Bruce asked.
    “You don’t have to. Not yet. I’ll be doing an assessment first.” She strolled to the closest wall and began a slow patrol around the perimeter, crystal dangling from her outstretched hand. If the four pairs of eyes glued to her every move affected her at all, she didn’t show it. She hadn’t walked far before coming to a stop. The crystal twirled frantically on its chain. Teag couldn’t tell how she did it—she was good, he had to admit. “You have a ghost. How quaint,” she said, amused.
    “A ghost?” Teag spit out the word before he choked on it.
    “Yes. Haven’t you felt the cold spot?”
    They muttered no, except Jem. “I have,” he said.
    This time, Teag did roll his eyes, but fortunately, nobody was paying attention to him. All eyes were on their guest.
    Bruce nudged Teag. “Must’ve been an old customer of the Blue Parrot. The spot’s exactly where the old bar ended.” He pointed at the marks on the floor.
    As Teag viewed Bruce with exasperation, he considered reconsidering his earlier assessment of Bruce not being a total meathead.
    Mme. Layla moved on but stopped again a few steps later. Right on top of the hidden compartment. Of course, now with the handgrip exposed it wasn’t so hidden anymore. The crystal spun around in a wide circle—Teag further admired her skill manipulating the thing. Her hand didn’t seem to move at all. She crouched and tapped the wood. “What’s in here?”
    “Nothing anymore,” Bruce volunteered the information. “There was an old cocktail shaker, but it was empty.”
    She stood and pocketed the crystal. “May I see it?”
    Olly rushed off to fetch the thing—someone had stowed it under the stairs with the tools and stuff. The rest of their party stood around, displaying a range of emotions. Mme. Layla stared off into space with professional distractedness, while Jem worried his lower lip. Bruce radiated untroubled and curious amusement. Teag was doing his damnedest to keep his expression neutral, but the absurdity of the situation was becoming too much. He was eager for the whole affair to be over.
    Olly returned a minute later, and Mme. Layla took the shaker from him. She turned it in her hands, frowning more and more deeply as she studied the strange engravings. She brushed the remains of the red wax with her fingertips. “You opened it.”
    “Well, of course,” Teag replied, careful to keep the impatience out of his voice.
    Her sigh hinted of exasperation as she slid off the lid and peeked inside. The grooves on her forehead deepened, and she seemed a decade older and a ton more spooky for a fraction of a second. It passed too fast, though, for Teag to be sure he hadn’t imagined it.
    “So what’s this cleansing entail?” Bruce asked.
    “I won’t be able to do it today, sorry. I need to—” She snapped the lid on the cocktail shaker. “I’d like to borrow this for a few days. You mind?”
    Bruce said nothing, leaving the decision to Teag. “All yours,” Teag told her, smiling, relieved she’d be going soon.
    She put the item in question into her bag, said good-bye and left with a disappointed Jem in tow.
    “Don’t worry, she’ll be back,” Olly assured them.
    Teag wasn’t worried. “No doubt.” He managed to keep his tone sarcasm-free.
    Olly shifted his weight. “Mind if Jem and I take off? I told Rich I’d help in the shop, and I’m Jem’s ride.”
    “Not at all. Oh, and thanks for the help again, but there really isn’t much for you to do for a while. Not till we start painting.”
    “Okay. Call. Laters!” Olly waved and skipped out of the room.
    Bruce had found Mme. Layla a pleasant diversion. He took no particular stock in witchcraft and the like, but at Ren Faire, he’d made friends with a number of people who confessed to be Wiccan and were rather sincere and serious about it. As a practitioner of