Free A Cast-Off Coven by juliet blackwell Page B

said.
    Marlene’s face had gone pale and drawn, and she averted her eyes. She looked suddenly older. I felt waves of sadness and . . . was it embarrassment? I caught the scent of something akin to must, dank and closed off: shame.
    “Well,” she said with a nervous laugh, fluttering her hands over her chest, “be that as it may, it’s in the hands of the police now.”
    “Walker’s in police custody?” I asked.
    “No, they haven’t arrested anyone as far as I know. Anyway, perhaps it is a good thing you’re back. After all, the police aren’t going to help us with the school’s being . . . haunted,” Marlene said, her gaze holding mine. “I hadn’t wanted to say before, but it’s getting worse. And now everyone’s so ratcheted up, their nerves are shot, it’s as if there’s something in the air. There have been skirmishes amongst the students, and even the faculty. Professional jealousies are running amok. And now, well, this . . . tragedy . . . certainly hasn’t helped things. I even had someone in here messing with my ephemera!”
    “Breathe, Marley,” Todd said in a quiet voice. Marlene smiled up at him and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
    “Messing with your ephemera?” I asked. Was that a euphemism?
    “Marley’s a collage artist,” Todd explained, yanking his chin toward a drafting table set up in the corner. Every surface was covered with tiny bits of clipped magazine pages, letters, advertisements, and patterned papers. “She seems to think someone was going through her things yesterday.”
    “No one thinks I could possibly notice, but I know these things,” said Marlene. “It may look like a mess, but it’s my mess.”
    “Why would anyone want your ephemera, Marlene?” Todd asked.
    “Some student with an overdue project, no doubt.” She turned back to me. “Anyway, if you can figure out what’s going on with the noises, without getting involved in the police investigation, I suppose that would be all right.”
    “I’ll do my best. So, it’s all right to collect the clothing?”
    Marlene glanced up again at Todd, who nodded. She flashed me a brilliant smile. “Of course.”
    “The closet’s on the third floor, on your right at the end of the hall,” said Todd. “Marlene and Ginny had to break the handle to get it open. There’s a hole in the door, so you can’t miss it. Want me to go with you?”
    “No, thanks, I’m good,” I said. “But I do appreciate the offer.”
    The stairs leading from the main building’s first floor to the second were broad and formal, but the steps to the third story were steep and encased in a narrow, enclosed stairwell. Oscar and I climbed slowly. I hadn’t taken the students’ concerns seriously enough the last time I was here at the school, assuming they were overreacting. I had been almost flippant about it, and I should have known better. Jerry Becker’s death, not to mention the sounds I had heard on the bell tower stairs, had sobered me.
    As had the sense that there was an evil spirit involved. I hadn’t said as much to Oscar because I wanted his untainted version of what might be present. Plus, I was hoping maybe I’d gotten it wrong. But unaccustomed fighting, jealousy, and petty theft were potential signs of demonic activity. The wretched creatures really did love to stir things up.
    We took our time mounting the stairs, searching for the sensations encased within the rough stucco walls, the smooth stone steps, the slick wooden banister. Thousands of souls had passed through these hallways for more than a century, leaving faint traces of themselves each time. I felt hints of misery amongst the whispers of everyday human experience, but nothing out of the ordinary.
    Oscar and I paused at the top of the stairs, which opened onto the third- floor hallway. The long corridor, flanked by a series of simple wooden doors and a few small windows, was much narrower than the floor below. I wondered which unlucky nuns had been