Deadly Fate (Krewe of Hunters #19)(26)

“What? What? What’s going on?” Mike demanded.

Thor Erikson looked at Clara as if she had just caused the roof to collapse.

“I believe Miss Avery is having trouble sleeping,” he said.

“Miss Avery! Oh, my dear Miss Avery!”

Marc Kimball had joined them—his dressing gown was more elegant than the rest, made of an exceptionally fine fabric. And, of course, the minute he was out, his little assistant, Emmy, came running out as well, and more state police seemed to materialize from nowhere.

Clara felt like a deer caught in blinding headlights.

Marc Kimball broke through to set his hands sympathetically on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. What can I do to help you through this ghastly night?”

She tried desperately to think quickly, wishing that sensations and emotions were not racing through her like wildfire. The image of Amelia Carson had just disappeared again—right when the state cop had come to stand exactly where she had been.

It might have been a projected image?

She lowered her head—also feeling clammy and almost dirty somehow because Marc Kimball was touching her, because it seemed that she breathed in something that wasn’t evil, but...

Slimy.

“Clara,” Jackson said, coming through the crowd. “I guess we’re all having trouble trying to get some sleep. Perhaps, since you’re awake, you wouldn’t mind coming into the office? I think you might be able to give me a hand with something—a timetable?”

She had lost her mind for a few minutes there. No way in hell would Jackson Crow be involved in such a farce and no way in hell would he chance anything ridiculous for his precious Krewe of Hunters.

She swallowed hard, wanting to scream and shake off Marc Kimball’s touch. Thor Erikson had risen and done so in such a way that he forced Marc Kimball back.

She didn’t particularly want to feel she owed the man in any way, but at that moment, she was eternally grateful.

“I’m so sorry—I had no idea I was speaking so loudly,” she said to everyone. “Forgive me. Please, try to get back to sleep. Jackson, of course I’ll help,” she added, looking over at him.

“Come on, folks, break it all up!” Mike Aklaq said.

They all began to disperse.

“Really, Miss Avery, if there’s anything...” Marc Kimball said.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she told him. And she fled toward Jackson. She realized that her three friends—Simon, Ralph and Larry—looked at her with grave concern.

“I’m all right, I swear!” she whispered to Larry as she passed him.

Following Jackson to the office, she heard Becca speaking with one of the policemen. “Please, this is rough. If you’ll really keep an eye on my door...”

“Of course, Miss Marle,” one of the officers assured her.

Then Clara found herself in the office with Jackson—and Thor Erikson and Mike Aklaq. She wound up seated on the sofa that faced the desk; the three men were perched on the edge of it, arms folded over their chests, looking at her with grave expressions.

“Clara, what happened?” Jackson asked her.

“I think maybe the, uh, the film crew is still at it somehow,” Clara managed. “I saw Amelia—I saw Amelia Carson in the kitchen. Twice. And she was...she was in one piece. I’m sorry. I guess I freaked out. I assumed that maybe all of you were in on it.”

“She thought I was a stripper!” Thor said indignantly.

“There are many legitimate places where people work,” Clara said, cringing inwardly.

Jackson and Mike both laughed. “Stripper!” Mike repeated, grinning. “Hey, there, Magic Mike!”

Thor looked at him, a brow hiked.

“I’m sorry!” Clara said again.

“No one is playing tricks here,” Jackson said quietly.

Clara winced, lowering her head. “So, she’s—real. As in really dead—and really a ghost?” she whispered.

She’d have given her eyeteeth for Alexi to be there. Alexi took all such things in stride; she believed that ghosts had come to help her on the Destiny.

“The thing is,” Thor said, coming to hunch down before her, causing her to meet his eyes, “Amelia apparently thinks you can help her. She appeared before you.”

“You saw her!” she told him. “I know that you saw her!”

Clara hoped he would deny it.

He did not.

“Yes, I saw her because...”

“He saw her because he can see the dead,” Jackson said flatly. “Actually, many people can. Most of them never know it. Some feel a presence. Some actually see things. And some—well, I guess the dead pick and choose who they wish to speak with, just like the living. And the dead are like the living—some can barely appear. Some can learn to shift the air and make noise, even to move small objects, while some cannot. I know you’re aware that Alexi has always quietly had something extra. You know about the Destiny.”

She was surprised when Thor set a hand gently on her knee. “It’s hard to grasp. When you’re older...an adult. I knew very young that I saw things that others didn’t. That I heard things. That dreams could be warnings, the dead entering our subconscious minds. It’s hard. Truly hard. But, once you let yourself accept that while a large majority of the world might think you’re crazy despite the fact that you’re not at all, it gets easier.”