Fixing To Die

“As long as I can remember,” An’gel said truthfully. As a child, she hadn’t thought much about things. Neither she nor Dickce ever talked to their mother about them, although they did talk to each other. Neither of them had ever really felt frightened.

“Have these incidents been malicious in any way?” Alesha asked.

“Not that I can recall,” An’gel said. “Neither my sister nor I have ever felt threatened or truly frightened.”

“It sounds like this activity really doesn’t bother you,” Alesha said. “What is it you want me to do?”

“You said that you can communicate with spirits,” An’gel said. “We’re curious to know who this spirit was. Dickce thinks it’s our paternal grandmother, but I’m not sure. She was a cranky old lady and not very nice to children.”

An’gel hadn’t really meant to go into this much detail with the psychic but somehow she found herself telling the woman all these things. Perhaps the spirit’s activities had been weighing on her mind more than she realized. This was distracting her from the real purpose of this interview, however, and she needed to redirect the conversation soon.

“I could come and attempt to communicate with this spirit,” Alesha Jackson said. “I would have to stay in the house, and I can’t say up front how long it might take. So much depends on the willingness of the spirit to communicate.”

“I understand,” An’gel said, interested despite her determination to move on to other subjects. “What is your fee?”

“Room and board, and five thousand dollars for up to a week. If it takes longer, then it’s twenty-five hundred a week after that.”

An’gel was taken aback. Alesha Jackson had quoted Mary Turner a much lower price. For hourly work, however, it was far less than a lawyer’s fee, An’gel realized after a little mental arithmetic. Then she had to remind herself that the woman was most likely a con artist. An’gel wasn’t about to pay Alesha Jackson a nickel for her services, much less five thousand dollars plus.

“I’ve been wondering about any references you might have,” An’gel said. “Benjy is talented when it comes to finding out things online, and he did a little research on Primrose Pace’s activities.” She deliberately used the pseudonym rather than the woman’s real name.

Alesha Jackson tensed slightly, An’gel noticed. Her gaze, however, remained bland. “I know there are two or three things online that are pretty easy to find. About work I’ve done in missing persons cases in Louisiana.”

“Yes,” An’gel said. “I suppose it was through communicating with the spirits of the dead in these cases that led you to the vicinity of where they’d been buried.”

“To put it simply, yes, though the situations were all much more complicated than that,” Alesha said.

An’gel wondered if Alesha really was Primrose Pace, or had she taken the other woman’s identity temporarily for purposes of her own. She realized that Alesha Jackson was intelligent and wouldn’t be easily trapped into betraying herself. The police would have to sort out the question of Primrose Pace.

Time to push harder, An’gel thought.

“I found out something else about you, Ms. Jackson,” An’gel said. “Marcelline told me that your grandmother once worked here. For Mary Turner’s grandmother, to be exact.”

“Yes, my grandmother told me about that. It was a long time ago.” Alesha’s eyes narrowed briefly as she returned An’gel’s gaze.

“I wondered if that had anything to do with your coming here,” An’gel said. “I’m sure there are other houses with spirits you could communicate with. How did you really happen to choose this one?”

Alesha did not reply right away. Instead she stared at An’gel for a long moment. An’gel figured the woman might get up and walk out, but then Alesha surprised her by speaking.

“Curiosity,” Alesha said. “My grandmother didn’t work here long, but she encountered the spirit that is in this house while she worked here. I got my abilities from my grandmother, you see. I was at loose ends, and I thought I might come here and see if I could communicate with the spirit. She never would talk to my grandmother.”

“Interesting,” An’gel said. If it’s all true, she added to herself. “Is your grandmother still living?”

“Yes,” Alesha said. “She’s in poor health, but she’s still with us, praise His mercy.”

“I understand, however, that you recently lost your father,” An’gel said. “You have my sympathies on your loss.”

“How did . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Online, of course, because there have been articles about the accident.” Alesha looked disgusted. “Benjy found all that out for you. What business is it of yours? Why are you so interested in my life and my family’s lives?”

“Because a man was murdered in this house,” An’gel said simply and waited for a reaction.

“So?” Alesha responded. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“The murdered man owned the company your father worked for at the time of his death,” An’gel said. “The company your mother has been considering bringing a lawsuit against. For wrongful death, I imagine.”