"Well, anyway, I just called to say thanks for being, you know, so cool about everything."

Also, Gina wrote, I think you should know, I am very seriously thinking about getting a tattoo while I'm out there. I know, I know. Mom wasn't exactly thrilled by the tongue stud. But I'm thinking there's no reason she has to see the tattoo, if I get it where I'm thinking about getting it. If you know what I mean! XXXOOO - G

"Also, I guess I should tell you, since my uncle's gone, and my dad's . . . you know, in the hospital … it looks like I have to go stay with my aunt for a while up in San Francisco. So I won't be around for a few weeks. Or at least until my dad gets better."

I was never, I realized, going to see Tad again. To him, I would eventually become just an awkward reminder of what had happened. And why would he want to hang around someone who reminds him of the painful time when his dad was running around pretending to be Count Dracula?

I found this a little sad, but I could understand it.

P.S. Check this out! I found it in a thrift shop. Remember that whacked-out psychic we went to see that one time? The one who called you - what was it again? Oh, yeah, a mediator. Conductor of souls? Well, here you are! Nice robes. I mean it. Very Cynthia Rowley.

Tucked into the envelope with Gina's letter was a battered tarot card. It appeared to have been from a beginner's set since there was an explanation printed under the illustration, which was of an old man with a long white beard holding a lantern.

The Ninth Key, the explanation went. Ninth card in the Tarot, the Hermit guides the souls of the dead past the temptation of illusory fires by the roadside, so that they may go straight to their higher goal.

Gina had drawn a balloon coming from the hermit's mouth, in which she'd penned the words, Hi, I'm Suze, I'll be your spiritual guide to the afterlife. All right, which one of you lousy spooks took my lip gloss?

"Sue?" Tad sounded concerned. "Sue, are you still there?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm here. That's really too bad, Tad. I'll miss you."

"Yeah," Tad said. "Me, too. I'm really sorry you never got to see me play."

"Yeah," I said. "That's a real shame."

Tad murmured a last good-bye in his sexy, silky voice, then hung up. I did the same, careful not to look in Jesse's direction.

"So," Jesse said without so much as an excuse-me-for-eavesdropping-on-your-private-conversation. "You and Tad? You are no more?"

I glared at him.

"Not," I said, stiffly, "that it's any of your business. But yes, it appears that Tad is moving to San Francisco."

Jesse didn't even have the decency to try to hide his grin.

Instead of letting him get to me, I picked up the tarot card Gina had sent me. It's funny, but it looked like the same one Cee Cee's aunt Pru had kept turning over when we'd been at her house. Had I made that happen? I wondered. Had it been because of me?

But I was certainly no great shakes as a conductor of souls. I mean, look how badly I'd messed up the whole thing with Doc's mom.

On the other hand, I had figured it out eventually. And along the way, I'd helped stop a murderer....

Maybe I wasn't quite as bad at this mediating thing as I thought.

I was sitting there in the middle of my bed, trying to figure out what I should do with the card - Pin it to my door? Or would that generate too many curious questions? Tape it up inside my locker? - when somebody banged on my bedroom door.

"Come in," I said.

The door swung open and Dopey stood there.

"Hey," he said. "Dinner's ready. Dad says for you to come downst - Hey." His normally idiotic expression turned into a grin of malicious delight. "Is that a cat?"

I glanced at Spike. And swallowed.

"Um," I said. "Yeah. But listen, Dope - I mean, Brad. Please don't tell your - "

"You," Dopey said, "are … so … busted."