Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(63)

“So…” Mark swallowed hard. “You think you’re seeing ghosts.”

“I don’t think I’m seeing them. Trust me, I’ve already gone up and down with Val and Monica on this. I know exactly how crazy it sounds. But it’s not just me.”

He blinked. “So you’re all seeing ghosts?”

“Not exactly.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So what exactly is happening with you? With them?”

Robin sighed. “Listen, I can tell from your voice you don’t believe me—”

“Robin, it’s not a matter of believing you.” His voice rose. “It’s a matter of thinking you probably have more lasting effects from the accident than we realized. It’s about getting you help so—”

“This is not a fantasy.” She brought out her sketchbook and started flipping through pages. “I’m going to tell you a story, and I want you to listen.”

Robin opened her sketch to the first picture she’d drawn of the mystery man. “This is Billy Grimmer. He’s the man who rescued us from the car. I’ve seen him more than once. He’s the one I was talking to out in the woods.”

She opened Grandma Helen’s cigar box and got out the sketch. “And if Grandma Helen were awake, she would tell you this is a picture of Billy Grimmer she sketched back in the forties when they were having a love affair before she married my grandfather.” She pointed to the sketch in her book. “This I drew just a week or so after I got out of the hospital.” She held up the sketch Helen had done. “This I just found tonight, in this box, which is also full of their love letters.”

Mark opened his mouth. Then closed it. “Okay, but—”

“My Uncle Raymond” —she kept her voice low— “is Billy’s son. That’s why he and my grandfather always fought. That’s why he’s never been close to the rest of the family.” She showed Mark the picture of Raymond just out of high school. “This is Mom and her brother. See how much he looks like Billy?”

Mark said, “Okay, the resemblance is pretty uncanny, but—”

“You can ask Uncle Raymond about his DNA testing kit when he gets here tomorrow. Trust me. It’s interesting.” Robin showed Mark the photograph in Helen’s cigar box. “Billy was a boy from Grimmer. His family founded the old town that was flooded when the dam was built. He and Grandma Helen grew up together. He worked on the dam, and then he was buried by the lake. His bones are the ones that were in the back of my car.”

Mark watched her intently. “What?”

“I know that because Val can see things sometimes when she touches objects, and she touched the chains attached to the body and she saw him. Trust me, she was not happy about that.” Robin flipped back to the picture she’d sketched of the mine. “Like this. She saw this image, and she described it to me. Someone chained him up and let him drown in the bottom of this mine shaft. Only according to Sully, they got impatient and cut Billy’s throat first. I guess they really didn’t want Billy escaping.”

She handed Mark the last letter from Billy. “In this letter, Billy Grimmer mentions a cabin. It was his and Helen’s secret place, and it’s not very far from where my car went into the lake. Monica saw that in a vision. Saw me and Billy walking by it. Billy’s ghost led me to it just before you called to tell me Grandma had fallen. I still need to go back with Val and Monica though, because I didn’t really get much information and I think the cabin is important.” She shoved her sketchbook toward him. “So there you go. There’s all the evidence that your wife is completely nuts.”

Mark stared at her. He folded his hands and pressed his thumbs to his lips. Then he looked down at the sketchbook, the photographs, and the letters.

“Well,” he said slowly, “this would definitely explain why you’ve been so distracted lately.”

Robin blinked. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He frowned. “Robin…” He bit his lip. Looked away, then looked her straight in the eye. “If you had told me anyone else was seeing ghosts—Monica or Val or Emma or anyone—I would think they were in need of serious mental help.” He spread out his hands. “But this is… an investigation. This is evidence. Combine that with your telling me that you—the most practical person I know—have seen this… person.” He held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “I can’t ignore that. Even though it kinda fries my brain. It’s you.”

She felt a tight knot in her chest begin to unravel. “Thank you.”

Mark sorted through the pictures and flipped through the sketchbook. “Who is this?” He was pointing at the picture of the ghost in the antique shop.

“That’s the ghost in the antique shop. Her name’s Clara. She died in the house giving birth to her son. You can ask Mom about the story.”

“There’s a ghost in the shop?” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, is that why the bell randomly rings sometimes?”

“I think so.”

“You said it was a draft.”

“I thought it was.” She shrugged.

“Have you seen any other… ghosts?” Mark wasn’t mocking her, but Robin could tell he was still having a hard time.