Free The Seance by Heather Graham Page A

shook her head.
    He stared at her. “You and Ana shouldn’t have been playing with that stupid Ouija board.”
    â€œOh, so now you believe in Ouija boards?” she said.
    â€œNo. But I do believe in the power of suggestion.”
    They traipsed downstairs. The kitchen was tidy, thanks to her efforts the night before. There was a last garbage bag waiting to go out, but that was it.
    In the parlor, the boxes remained where they had been.
    Too bad I don’t have a ghost who wants to unpack for me, she thought.
    No. She didn’t have a ghost at all. Besides, if anyone was haunting this place, it would be Gran, just as they’d said last night. And she would be a stern but kindly ghost.
    But of course there were no such things as ghosts, she told herself.
    â€œSo has anything been stolen?” Jed asked. “Or even moved?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so.”
    She couldn’t help but wish that her hair wasn’t sporting blades of grass, and that her cotton sleep shirt wasn’t damp and hugging her uncomfortably.
    â€œThe silver isn’t missing?” There was a dry note in his voice, she noticed.
    â€œNo,” she said, increasingly upset.
    Looking more disturbed than amused, he said, “Christie, if someone really had been in the house, either something would be missing or you would have been followed out and attacked on the lawn.”
    She glanced around the parlor, and then she frowned.
    The Ouija board.
    It had been moved; she was certain of it.
    She had set it on top of some other boxes when they had finished with it the night before, but now…
    Now it was back in the center of the floor.
    â€œThat moved,” she said suddenly.
    â€œWhat?” Jed asked.
    â€œThe Ouija board.”
    He groaned.
    â€œI’m serious!”
    He was so silent that she could have sworn she could hear every breath either one of them took and even their heartbeats.
    â€œSit down, Christina,” he suggested.
    She looked at him, puzzled. Then she realized that he was trying to be patient and had reverted to being a cop trying to calm a distraught citizen.
    â€œChristina, I admit I wasn’t a cop for all that long, but I never heard of anyone breaking into a house just to move a Ouija board.”
    She flashed him an irritated glance and stiffened, refusing to give him the satisfaction of sitting down as ordered.
    â€œI’m telling you, when I went to bed last night, that box wasn’t there.”
    â€œSit down,” he said again. “I can get you a glass of water or put some coffee on if that will help.” He wasn’t making fun of her, she knew. He was just treating her the same way he had when they’d all been kids and he had five years’ advantage over them.
    â€œJed, I’m telling you—”
    â€œNo. Let me talk,” he said.
    He pushed her down into one of the big wing chairs and hunkered down in front of her, taking her hands. “It’s hard. Trust me, I understand how hard it is.”
    â€œWhat are you saying?”
    â€œChristie, you have Dan and Mike, but other than that, you’ve lost your entire family.” His face hardened for a moment, and she knew why. He occasionally talked about his late wife, and sometimes he would smile or even laugh when he talked about something fun they had done.
    But he never, ever spoke about the months of her illness or her actual death.
    â€œI’m really not sure you should keep this house,” he told her.
    â€œI love this house.”
    â€œBut you’re dangerously close to being haunted by it. By the house itself, by the memories, good and bad, of all the years here. When I lost Margaritte, I stayed in the house for a while. I couldn’t part with any of her belongings. They even sent me to a police shrink. Eventually I gave her clothing to charities that could use it and only kept a few special mementos. And I sold the house and moved, because