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The Voice that Conjured Demons
I found the Collins in the kitchen, talking in whispers while Mike tried to sip a tea before his shaky hands spilled it all on his shirt. Speedwell, no doubt. God knew I needed a gallon.
“Go home, guys,” I said to them, feeling so overwhelmed I sounded soft. “Take the rest of the day off.”
Susan turned to me like I was a serial killer covered in her mother’s blood.
“You talk to them!” she cried. “You talk with the ghosts!”
Her accusatory tone took me aback. “Well, yeah. Hard to overlook them, being so many all over the place.”
“You’re evil like them!”
A chair was roughly knocked down behind me. I didn’t even glance at it.
“They’re not evil, Susan. Please go home.”
Mike grabbed his wife’s hand and pretty much dragged her out the backdoor, that slammed shut behind them.
“Thanks,” I murmured, grabbin
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