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
âI suppose it could be someone who lived there a long time ago,â Eve said. âBut one way or another, something has to be done. I spoke with one potential buyer who said the place gives her the creeps. Sheâs convinced a ghost lives there, said others had mentioned it to her. Iâve heard that ridiculous rumor before, but I never saw anything to prove it. No, if the Spencer Percy House is haunted, I believe itâs recent. Got to be Cliff. Maybe he left behind something unfinished in this world.â
âProbably just never got around to finish reading all his books,â Mort said.
âIt really doesnât matter who the ghost is. The fact is Iâve got to get rid of it if Iâm going to find a buyer.â
âHow old is this house?â Mort asked. âMaybe it simply needs a lot of work. Old houses tend to creak, you know. Or host critters in the attic. Doesnât mean thereâs anything woo-hoo going on.â
âAccording to our town historian, the house dates back to the early 1800s,â I said.
âItâs certainly the oldest house in Cabot Cove,â Eve added. âI 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 wasnât approved. So now itâs just a white elephant in need of repair.â
I spooned up the last of my cup of clam chowder and sat back in my chair. It was Friday afternoon, and Maraâs lunchtime customers were hurrying out, anxious to finish the weekâs work or eager to get a start on the weekend. âIf no one is willing to help fix the place, what are you going to do, Eve?â
âI donât know, Jessica. I was hoping you would help.â
âWhat kind of help are you looking for?â
Eve was silent for a moment as she concentrated on cutting her hamburger into little pieces. âIâve already taken some steps,â she said at last. âI just hope that youâll keep an open mind.â
âOh, dear, Eve, what did you do?â
âI found a medium online and used your name to invite her.â She rushed on, âSheâs such a big fan of yours, and she said sheâs heard how youâre always so helpful to friends in need. And Iâm very much in need right now, Jessica.â
It took me a few moments to process what sheâd said. I finally asked, âJust how did you use my name, Eve?â
âI sent her an e-mail telling her that you needed help getting rid of a ghost.â
âOh, Eve,â I said, âhow could you?â
Seth patted his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward. âDidnât this medium, or whoever she is, find it odd that Jessica didnât request the help herself?â
âNot at all,â Eve said. âI think she thought I was your assistant.â
âI donât have an assistant.â
âNevertheless, she agreed to come. And she said she was excited to be seeing you again.â
âAgain?â Seth and I said in unison.
âYes. 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. Donât you remember?â
âThe name doesnât sound familiar,â I said, trying to remember the last time Iâd been to Lewiston. âI did teach a summer course on creative writing at Bates College, but that was many years ago. Even so, I donât recall the name Arianna Olynski.â
âWell, she certainly remembers you. She mentions you on her website in the section called âPraise for My Work.â Thatâs how I got the idea to invite her here.â
âSeems she didnât make quite as deep an
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child