“Uh huh. Well, Miss, uh…”

“Mrs. Archer,” Andie said, looking around for Mrs. Crumb. “But you can call me Andie.”

“Andie,” Dennis said awkwardly. “It could be a projection of, uh, repressed needs. Say if you had issues with an uncaring mother and wanted to see someone watching over Alice-”

“No,” Andie said. “My mother is not uncaring.” My father was, but my mother is just odd.

“-or possibly not,” Dennis went on smoothly. “But sometimes our own needs-”

“Look, I’m not a believe-in-ghosts kind of woman.”

Dennis looked at her appraisingly, his pale eyes surprisingly shrewd. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“So we’ll just leave my mother out of it.”

Dennis nodded, and Andie turned to wipe down Alice, torn between being glad she had a ghost expert and thinking she was insane for being glad she had a ghost expert. At least he was nice, a little pompous but sympathetic, and he was treating her seriously, which was a relief.

“I’m done now,” Alice said, as Andie wiped pizza sauce off her bat necklace, and she slid off the chair and went upstairs to get ready for bed, Carter close behind her.

At the end of the long table, Kelly waved to her. “We need to talk about the séance,” she called.

“The séance?” Andie said, looking at Dennis.

He rolled his eyes.

“So you don’t believe in séances.”

“I’m here to provide skepticism,” he said.

“Oh, that’s why you’re the counterpoint. And Kelly’s the believer?”

“No, I believe that’s Mrs. Hammersmith, the medium. She’s due to arrive tomorrow. She apparently had an engagement with the Other Side tonight.”

“Would a séance do any good?”

Dennis looked at her with great patience. “Since ghosts only exist in folklore, fiction, and fraud, no.”

“You are not much help,” Andie said, exasperated. “You and Boston Ulrich-”

“Don’t put me in the same sentence with that man,” Dennis snapped, the first lively thing he’d done since he’d arrived.

“Really,” Andie said, impressed. “I read you were on a panel together-”

“Complete charlatan. Advertises himself as an academic and a… ghostbuster.” Dennis said the last word with such loathing that Andie was taken aback. “He’s everything that’s wrong in the academic paranormal world. He wants to be popular.” He looked off into the distance, practically grinding his teeth. “And he just got another book deal.”

Okay, don’t mention Boston Ulrich again. “Dennis, I need a ghostbuster.”

Dennis said, “No you don’t, there are no such things as ghosts.” He bit into the last slice of pizza. “I could write a book on ghosts, too, you know. But I’d have to point out that they don’t exist. Nobody wants to hear that.”

“Okay, then,” Andie said, ignoring Kelly’s call for a chat and Dennis’s obvious disapproval as she stood up. “Thank you for explaining all of that. Enjoy your pizza.”

So much for an expert opinion, she thought, and went to help Mrs. Crumb handle four overnight guests.


An hour later, after a scowling Mrs. Crumb had taken Southie, Kelly, Dennis, and Bill to four of the six bedrooms on the second floor and then put out the house’s meager supply of decantered booze for after-dinner drinks; after Andie had cleaned up the pizza and checked that Alice was ready for bed and told Carter he had to shut down his computer and go to bed, too; after Southie had come up to give Carter a book on the history of comics and Alice a book on butterflies and then told Andie how good it was to see her again and made her feel he meant it; after all of that normal stuff, Andie was almost back to believing she’d imagined everything. Going downstairs to endure Kelly O’Keefe in the sitting room didn’t do anything to improve her day, but at least it was something that normal, non-haunted people did.

Kelly was relentlessly cheerful and clearly up to something.

“There you are.” She swept up to Andie as she came in, her sharp little face avid under her feathered blond hair. “Where have you been?”

“Putting the kids to bed,” Andie said, as Southie followed her into the room. “So what is it that you’re doing here exactly?”

“Let me get you a drink,” Southie said to Andie. “You deserve one.” He went over to the table behind the sofa where Mrs. Crumb had arranged the decanters, and Andie watched him, ignoring Kelly so she could see his face when he realized all they had was peppermint schnapps, Amaretto, and the bastard brandy that Mrs. Crumb was so fond of. He came back and said, “My God.”

“I know,” Andie said sympathetically. “But it’s alcohol.”

“Plus it’s been decanted,” Southie said gloomily. “God knows what label that stuff was.”

“Is there a top-shelf peppermint schnapps?” Andie said, and he grinned at her, like old times.

“On the bright side,” he told her, “I have a Bert and Ernie bedspread in my room. Let me guess: Alice is your decorator.”

“It made her happy,” Andie said, laughing at the thought of Bert and Ernie and Southie sleeping together.

“It makes me happy, too,” Southie said.

“Just get me something to drink,” Kelly said.

“I’ll make a run to a liquor store tomorrow,” Southie told her. “Assuming the road doesn’t wash out in this storm.” He looked at the decanters again. “No, even if the road is washed out. I can walk it for decent booze. For tonight, I’ll make you a… something.”

“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?” Andie said, but he had already headed back to the booze, leaving Kelly to smile fixedly at Andie. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“You asked what am I doing here?” Kelly said. “I’m researching ghosts. Do you have any?”

“No,” Andie said, not planning on sharing anything with Kelly. “Also don’t talk to the kids.”

“I’ve been interviewing your Mrs. Crumb,” Kelly went on, and Andie thought, Oh, hell. “She tells me the house has been haunted for centuries.”

“She’s often wrong.”

“She says the house was brought over from England, and the ghosts came with it.”

“Yeah, how would that work, exactly?” Andie said. “I’m not up on my ghost rules, but wouldn’t they be sort of stuck in the old country?”

Kelly leaned closer. “Evidently,” she said, a thrill in her voice, “they’re tied to the house.”

“Kelly, there are no ghosts,” Andie said, and thought about siccing May on her. Let Kelly get quizzed about her lovers for a change. It was bound to be a longer conversation than she’d had with Andie.

“You know how we’ll be sure?” Kelly said, light in her eyes. “When we hold the séance. Isolde was booked today, but she’s driving down tomorrow-”

“No.”

“Well, let’s keep an open mind.” Kelly looked across the room to where Southie was talking with Dennis as he poured brandy from one of the old cut-glass decanters. “So, you and North Archer are back together!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You and North,” Kelly said, impervious to chill. “I understand you’re together again? That’s why you’re down here taking care of his children?”

“That would be private,” Andie said. Why would you want to know that?

“Well, yes, but since Sullivan and I are, well, you know, then you and I must-”

“No,” Andie said. Southie and Kelly? Lydia must be having a coronary somewhere. “We mustn’t.”

“After all, you’re here taking care of his children,” Kelly said again, watching her closely.

“Wards. He’s their guardian, not their father.”

“So he’s distant,” Kelly said sympathetically.

“Not at all,” Andie said, thinking, Hell, yes, he’s distant, have you met the man? “After all, he sent me.”

“After three nannies.” Kelly smiled as if to soften what she said. “That’s pretty distant.”

How do you know about the three nannies? “And as soon as I was available, he sent me,” Andie said.

“And what were you doing before this?” Kelly was wide-eyed with interest now.

“None of your business,” Andie said. “I thought you were interested in ghosts.”

“Oh, I am. That’s why the séance tomorrow is going to be so important-”

“There is no séance tomorrow.”

“-and you’ll be glad to know that Isolde Hammersmith is the absolute best medium in the tristate-”

“I’m thrilled, but there’s still no séance.”

“-so we’ll get wonderful results, guaranteed.”

“She guarantees results?” Andie said.

“No, I guarantee results,” Kelly said, the grimness in her voice holding a ring of truth. “Mrs. Crumb showed me the Great Hall, and I think that would be perfect for-”

“Here we go.” Southie interrupted them with two glasses, one of which he gave to Andie, the other of which he shoved in Kelly’s face. “Here you are, darling. I promise you a better selection tomorrow.” He took Kelly’s elbow. “Come over here and talk to Dennis. He seems a little confused about what his role here is.” He turned her in the direction of the couch, mouthing “Sorry” to Andie over Kelly’s head.

Kelly craned her head back. “But Andie and I were just-”

“Oh, you go on ahead,” Andie said. “I’ll just stand here and… drink.”

Southie steered the little blonde across the room, but it didn’t last. Kelly patted Dennis’s shoulder and left him and Southie to go to Bill, who was going through his camera bag. Bill looked surly, and she looked like she was trying to do something about it, so Andie joined Dennis and Southie on the green-striped sofa to watch.

“Bill does not look happy,” she said to Southie.

Dennis looked at his drink with caution. “I hadn’t noticed. This brandy is interesting. Did you say they make it in the basement?”