Free The Haunting at Grays Harbor (The River Book 8) by Michael Richan

eyes wide and her head stretched back as far away from him as she
could position it.
    “Well then, you’d need to sell it to me,” Steven said.
“What’s a fair price?”
    She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Steven
placed his hand on the back of the day bed, a few feet from her body, and slid
a little toward her. She looked at his hand, his marking, and recoiled.
    “Now, now,” Steven said. “You must have known when you
decided to lie to me that this might happen. I realize you’re under an
agreement you can’t break. I don’t know that I hold you responsible for the
death of my son, the way that I held Aka Manah responsible. If that were the
case, you’d already be dead. But since you were so fucking unhelpful with all
of that, I think the least you can do is sell me this object at a fair price.”
    “Take it,” he said, recovering her voice. “My gift.”
    “No, I want it to be fair. Unlike how you treated me and my
father.”
    “Ten thousand?” she asked timidly, afraid of the reply.
    “A little steep, don’t you think?”
    “Five?”
    “Sold!” Steven said. “I’ll send you a check. Sorry, can’t get
that kind of cash from an ATM. I trust that’ll be acceptable?”
    “Perfectly acceptable,” she said, forcing a smile.
    “Great,” Steven said, standing up and facing her. “I guess
we’re done. I appreciate your cooperation.” He walked to the large double doors
and opened them. Clara was standing just outside the doors, as though she had
been listening. Steven stopped and turned back to Judith.
    “And Judith, please, let’s stay on a friendly level going
forward, shall we? Trust me, you don’t want me as an enemy. What they did to
you – I can do far worse.”
    He turned and caught Clara’s eye. She was furious, but Steven
just smiled at her. “Go in and check on her,” he said. “She seems upset. Don’t
worry about me — I know my way out.”

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    “She had it, huh?” Roy asked, holding the trivet Steven
handed to him. He turned it over in his hands, then dropped into the River
briefly to check it out.
    “She tried to pass it off as a just a cork trivet,” Steven
said, starting the car and pulling out of the parking space. “I convinced her
to sell it to me. She was resistant until I persuaded her.”
    “Damn,” Roy said. “Now I wish I’d have gone in there with
you.”
    “You would have enjoyed it,” Steven said, smiling. “It was
real John Wayne.”
    “Damn!” Roy said. “I guess I better go with you to the
database kid then, as much as I don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to miss anything
entertaining.”
    “We’re much closer to Eximere than to Seattle,” Steven said.
“I think we ought to try this trivet with the legend shelf before we go see
Elliott. I wish I could just email him a picture of the rod, like I did with
Eliza, but he’s far too paranoid for that. When I asked him for his email
address, he just laughed at me.”
    “Alright, back to Eximere then,” Roy said. “Let’s hope it’s
still there.”
    “Don’t say that,” Steven gulped, uncomfortable at the
thought. He started the car and pulled out of his parking spot, then left Gig
Harbor, hoping he might never need to return.
     
    ◊
     
    When they opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, they
were met with total darkness. The light from the stairwell lit a little of the
path to Eximere, but Steven reached for the flashlight he’d brought and turned
it on. Roy did the same.
    “Looks like this place is still FUBAR,” Roy said, shining his
light around. “Can’t see shit.”
    “Come on,” Steven said, starting down the path. He could hear
Roy grumbling behind him.
    “I don’t like being in the dark like this,” Roy said. “Makes
me think the whole place is going to come down. With us inside.”
    “We’ll check out the trivet, and if it’s still dark after
that, we’ll head back,” Steven said. The slight snort he heard from Roy