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and his wife who died in the jungle, or some sea captain who built the place? Heck, it could be any number of other people who lived there a hundred years ago.”
    â€œI suppose it could be someone who lived there a long time ago,” Eve said. “But one way or another, something has to be done. I spoke with one potential buyer who said the place gives her the creeps. She’s convinced a ghost lives there, said others had mentioned it to her. I’ve heard that ridiculous rumor before, but I never saw anything to prove it. No, if the Spencer Percy House is haunted, I believe it’s recent. Got to be Cliff. Maybe he left behind something unfinished in this world.”
    â€œProbably just never got around to finish reading all his books,” Mort said.
    â€œIt really doesn’t matter who the ghost is. The fact is I’ve got to get rid of it if I’m going to find a buyer.”
    â€œHow old is this house?” Mort asked. “Maybe it simply needs a lot of work. Old houses tend to creak, you know. Or host critters in the attic. Doesn’t mean there’s anything woo-hoo going on.”
    â€œAccording to our town historian, the house dates back to the early 1800s,” I said.
    â€œIt’s certainly the oldest house in Cabot Cove,” Eve added. “I could probably sell it as is if it had been designated a landmark. But someone in the last century pulled off half the molding and added an extension that wasn’t approved. So now it’s just a white elephant in need of repair.”
    I spooned up the last of my cup of clam chowder and sat back in my chair. It was Friday afternoon, and Mara’s lunchtime customers were hurrying out, anxious to finish the week’s work or eager to get a start on the weekend. “If no one is willing to help fix the place, what are you going to do, Eve?”
    â€œI don’t know, Jessica. I was hoping you would help.”
    â€œWhat kind of help are you looking for?”
    Eve was silent for a moment as she concentrated on cutting her hamburger into little pieces. “I’ve already taken some steps,” she said at last. “I just hope that you’ll keep an open mind.”
    â€œOh, dear, Eve, what did you do?”
    â€œI found a medium online and used your name to invite her.” She rushed on, “She’s such a big fan of yours, and she said she’s heard how you’re always so helpful to friends in need. And I’m very much in need right now, Jessica.”
    It took me a few moments to process what she’d said. I finally asked, “Just how did you use my name, Eve?”
    â€œI sent her an e-mail telling her that you needed help getting rid of a ghost.”
    â€œOh, Eve,” I said, “how could you?”
    Seth patted his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward. “Didn’t this medium, or whoever she is, find it odd that Jessica didn’t request the help herself?”
    â€œNot at all,” Eve said. “I think she thought I was your assistant.”
    â€œI don’t have an assistant.”
    â€œNevertheless, she agreed to come. And she said she was excited to be seeing you again.”
    â€œAgain?” Seth and I said in unison.
    â€œYes. Her name is Arianna Olynski. She met you in Lewiston some years back. She was writing a book called
Our Supernatural Neighbors
, and she said you were very encouraging. Don’t you remember?”
    â€œThe name doesn’t sound familiar,” I said, trying to remember the last time I’d been to Lewiston. “I did teach a summer course on creative writing at Bates College, but that was many years ago. Even so, I don’t recall the name Arianna Olynski.”
    â€œWell, she certainly remembers you. She mentions you on her website in the section called ‘Praise for My Work.’ That’s how I got the idea to invite her here.”
    â€œSeems she didn’t make quite as deep an