Dark Demon Rising: Whisperings Paranormal Mystery book seven by Linda Welch

Williams quickly stood to take
it and set it near the table’s edge. “Shall I pour?”
    “If
you vould be so kind.”
    Mrs.
Williams poured tea from a china pot into two china cups and handed one to
Magenta, who propped her cane on the table’s rim so she could take it in both hands.
    Jack
stepped away from Mrs. Williams and circled the room. Mel moved nearer the tray
and eyed a small plate of plain cookies.
    “You
can let go, Tiff,” Jack said.
    “Okay.”
With a sigh, I moved away from Mrs. Williams.
    Magenta’s
hand trembled and tea slopped in the saucer. She glared past Mrs. Williams.
    Mrs.
Williams sounded concerned. “Is anything wrong, Madam?”
    “No,
nothing,” Magenta said after a moment. She carefully placed her cup in the
saucer. “Shall we begin?”
    Mrs.
Williams swallowed the rest of her tea in one gulp. “Please.”
    And
without further ado, Magenta went into her spiel. She closed her eyes and murmured,
“David is glad little Vernon is on the mend.”
    Mrs.
Williams perked up. “Has he been watching over Vernon?”
    “He
was fond of Veron in life and remains so in death.”
    Jack
spat out the words. “Nobody’s here except us. She’s a fake.”
    Magenta’s
eyes sprang open, her shoulders tensed. She didn’t move her head but her gaze
zipped from side to side.
    Did
she hear us? If she did, she wasn’t a fake. But we were the only shades in the
room, so where was David? I wasn’t sure how clairvoyants operated, maybe she
heard David’s message from beyond. I put a finger to my mouth and mimed shush. Mel and Jack nodded.
    Magenta
sucked in a deep breath and continued. “David says you must not feel guilty about
selling the house and moving to Colorado to be near Randolph, Sarah and Vernon.
He understands your home holds dear memories of your life together, as it does
for him, but you must think of your future.”
    Mrs.
Williams’ chin trembled. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear dear David
understands. Sentimentality has held me back, and leaving will be difficult,
but I am so lonely without him. In Colorado, I can watch my grandchildren grow.”
    “And
David vill be there vith you.”
    Mrs.
Williams smiled, and the session continued.
    How
did Magenta know all this stuff about Mr. and Mrs. Williams? She must be the
real thing.
    At
long last, Magenta saw Mrs. Williams to the door, where the happy lady passed
her an envelope.
    We
watched from the parlor doorway. Mel took a hesitant step into the hall and
grinned. “We can move in this house.”
    “The
entire house?” I asked.
    “Guess
we’ll find out,” said Jack.
    Magenta
leaned her cane against the wall and tottered through the hall, past us to a
staircase. Yes, tottered. She didn’t look sure of her balance. We followed, and
found her lowering to the bottom step. She hoisted her skirt, kicked off her
shoes and massaged one foot with an audible groan of relief.
    The
shoes had three-inch platform soles and six-inch heels. She needed the cane to
help her walk in the ugly things.
    After
working on her other foot, Magenta got upright, hiked up her skirt and climbed
the steps. We followed her. The staircase opened to a landing at the top and
Magenta went left and in a room. We peered around the frame to see her toss the
envelope on a couch, cross the room and disappear into another. She shut the
door.
    We
edged inside. The décor in this room was the opposite of the dim, musty the
parlor.
    Jack
pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “Oh, good golly Miss Molly.”
    “It
is . . . bright.” Mel shaded her eyes with her hands.
    Jack
spoke in the tone you use when you’re trying to see the upside of something. “Yes,
cheerful.”
    Red
blinds half covered two windows. The overhead lamp and two standing lamps
glowed bright white. A long gold, plush-velvet couch sat against the green
north wall. The other walls were dark-blue. A lavender-colored plastic desk
with laptop, printer and stack of paper stood under one window. A red