The Invited(63)
“People in town, they say all kinds of terrible things about my mother. But I just…I just wanted you to know that most of that stuff, I don’t think it’s true.”
He looked at his unlit cigarette, seeming more interested in it than in Olive.
“You said before that the reason people come here, the reason they want to make contact with dead people, is that they have questions they want answered. That’s why I came here today. Not to ask any ghosts or spirits or whatever, but to ask you, an actual living person, if you can help me figure out the truth about my mother.”
He lit his cigarette, took a drag, and watched the smoke that drifted out of his mouth. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “I can’t help you.”
“Okay,” Olive said. “Sorry to bother you.” She hopped down the steps and headed for Main Street, back toward the village, half thinking she’d see Mike hiding and waiting for her. But he was long gone. “Coward,” she muttered.
When she got to School Street, she turned and doubled back to the old inn, sneaking across people’s backyards. She came up behind the building and walked along the side until she was almost to the porch. She could hear Dicky pacing across the rotten floorboards. She peeked around the corner and saw he was on his phone.
“Well, her daughter was just here!”
Olive’s heart thumped hard in her chest.
“I don’t know,” Dicky said, agitated, practically shouting. “But she was asking questions. She knows something. I don’t know who she’s been talking to, but she knows Lori used to come here.”
Olive continued to watch, crouched down, peering around the corner. Dicky’s boot heels banged against the worn floorboards as he paced back and forth.
“I don’t think so. No. We need to meet again and figure out what we should do. All of us.”
He waited, listening.
“I know what we agreed to! I’m not a fucking idiot! Don’t give me this unsafe shit. Don’t you think we’re already unsafe?”
He listened again.
“Well, how much time do you need for that?”
He paced faster, boot heels clicking.
“Jesus! That’s too long. I’m telling you, this kid is suspicious and who knows who she’s been talking to.”
She heard his lighter flick, an inhalation, then smelled the sharp tang of cigarette smoke.
“Okay. Okay. I guess I don’t have a choice. I’ll have to trust you, but you better be right about all this. I’ll wait till then, but I’m not happy. Yes, the second Sunday in September. Yes, here, where the hell else? Okay. Yes. Same time as usual. Spread the word. Get everyone here. Everyone. And make sure you bring the diary!”
Olive pressed her back against the building, listened to the front door open with a jingle, then slam closed.
The second Sunday in September. She had to be here, to find a way to sneak in and hide. To see who was coming and what they were up to.
And what they might say about her mother.
CHAPTER 19
Helen
AUGUST 4, 2015
“Did you tell Nate what happened with the Ouija board last night?” Riley asked when Helen called her the next morning.
“Oh god, no,” Helen said. She could only imagine his derision, talking about unconscious micro-movements of the muscles and whatnot. She pressed the phone against her ear. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I want to drive out to that Donovan and Sons place. How far is it?”
“It’s about an hour away. It’s been closed for ages. I’d actually be interested in taking a ride out there to take a look, but I can’t go with you this morning. We had two guys call out sick at the salvage yard and I’ve got to go in. But you should totally go check the mill out. It’s really easy to find—you basically take Route 4 all the way up to Lewisburg and it’s right in the center of town.” She gave Helen directions, then went on to say, “I did a little research online last night. The Donovan and Sons Mill used to make heavy canvas—they had a big military contract. There was a terrible fire there back in 1943. A dozen women and one of the foreman died. The mill closed right after, stood abandoned for ages, but it looks like they’re turning it into condos now.”
“I’ll take a ride up there and let you know what I find,” Helen told her, hanging up and looking out the window to see if there was any sign of Nate yet. He’d crept off early in the morning with his binoculars, camera, and wildlife notebook while Helen was still in bed. Bird-watching, or maybe out looking for his white deer.
That was Hattie. Riley’s words echoed in her brain. Nate should be careful.
Helen wrote him a note saying she was going to do errands and would be back by lunchtime and that she thought they could finish up the plumbing.
She couldn’t very well tell him she was going to visit a mill because the Ouija board told her to. He’d be making her an appointment with the nearest shrink, talking about stress and delusions and Riley being a bad influence. She felt a little pang of guilt. This was the first time she’d ever told a little white lie to him, ever omitted the truth.
But it was for the best, really.
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