Maybe This Time Read online

  Kelly beamed at Isolde. “Oh, I’m sure the Great Hall will be perfect.”

  “We’ll see,” Isolde said flatly. “Who’s this?”

  Andie turned to see Dennis coming toward them, argyle-covered once more, probably trying to maintain a façade of polite neutrality but just looking academically snotty behind his glasses instead. At least his sweater wasn’t tomato-stained anymore.

  “This is Professor Dennis Graff,” Andie told Isolde. “He’s a parapsychologist.”

  Isolde snorted.

  “Very pleased to meet you,” Dennis said, but inside, Andie was sure, he was snorting back.

  “And this is Sullivan Archer,” Andie went on as Southie came out of the Great Hall to join them.

  Southie stuck out his hand, flashing that charming smile.

  “Very glad to have you here, Ms. Hammersmith.”

  “Mrs.” Isolde ignored the smile and the hand. “So this is the full bunch?” She surveyed them all. “I don’t know.” She looked at Dennis. “Harold says you don’t believe. You should go.”

  “No,” Dennis said, managing to sound polite and pig-stubborn at the same time, and Andie looked at him again and realized he was angry.

  Doesn’t like charlatans, she remembered. Boston Ulrich and Mrs. Hammersmith, enemies to the death. Of course, death wasn’t what it used to be in her world . . .

  Isolde looked at Southie. “You don’t know what you believe.”

  “Open mind,” he said genially.

  Isolde nodded and looked at Kelly. “You don’t believe, either. Jesus, what a mess.”

  “No, no, open mind,” Kelly said brightly, but Isolde was already looking at Andie.

  “And, finally we have a winner.”

  “Just get rid of them,” Andie said.

  “We’ll see what Harold can do,” Isolde said. “How many of them are there?”

  Andie opened her mouth, but Dennis said, “You tell us.”

  “Oh, sure,” Isolde said, looking unsurprised and unimpressed by Dennis. “No problem.” She paused. “Harold says you’re a putz.”

  “Well, come on,” Kelly said, “Dr. Graff is our expert—”

  “And Harold says you’re up to no good,” Isolde said to her. “He says you try anything funny, you’ll get your head handed to you. The spirit world is nothing to fuck around with.”

  Andie began to wish for a Harold of her own.

  “You got a bathroom?” Isolde said to Andie, shoving her big black leather sling bag over her shoulder.

  “Right this way.” Andie led her down the hall and through the door to the little hall by the library, but Isolde stopped her as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Kelly O’Keefe,” she said.

  “Hag from hell,” Andie said.

  “She believes in séances about as much as I believe in TV psychics.”

  “I picked that up.”

  Isolde looked at her, exasperated. “Then why are you letting her do this?”

  “Because we really do have ghosts,” Andie said.

  Isolde stared at her for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, then. Fuck Kelly O’Keefe, let’s find out about your ghosts.”

  “Thank you,” Andie said, feeling some hope for the first time. “The Great Hall is this way—”

  “After I go to the bathroom,” Isolde said.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Andie said, pointing the way, and then she went to check on the kids, thinking, I love this woman.

  Especially if she was going to get rid of the goddamned ghosts.

  Nine

  Isolde’s eyebrows climbed up her considerable forehead as she took in the three stories of fifteenth-century paneling in the Great Hall. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

  “Pretty much,” Andie said, but Isolde was already going toward the table in the center of the room.

  She put her bag on the table and looked around the hall again. “Couldn’t find anyplace bigger, huh?”

  “We have smaller rooms—” Andie began.

  “I bet you do. Harold likes it. It’ll do.” She sat down at the table. “So who’s in?”

  “Me,” Andie said, and sat down across from Isolde as Dennis and Southie took chairs on each side of her and Kelly copped the one between Southie and Isolde, saying, “This is so exciting!”

  “Who’s there?” Isolde said, nodding to the empty chair between Dennis and herself.

  “That’s an extra,” Andie said.

  “Get rid of it,” Isolde said. “The last thing we want is the uninvited sitting in.”

  Southie got up and dragged the chair over to the wall. It was a fairly long drag.

  “So light the candles,” Isolde said, and Andie picked up the lighter and started on the one closest to her.

  “Exactly what do the candles do?” Dennis said, trying for a neutral tone and missing.

  “They make the people who put them on the table happy,” Isolde said. “Me, I don’t care.”

  Andie lit the last one and sat down again. It was growing dark now, the twilight deepening outside because of the storm, and the candlelight flickered on the ancient stone walls and made their faces seem disembodied.

  “Who’s he?” Isolde said, looking behind Andie, and Andie jerked around expecting to see something horrible and instead saw Bill and his camera.

  “I just wanted some footage,” Kelly said brightly.

  Isolde looked at her as if she’d just crawled out from under a rock. “My fee just doubled.”

  “Oh.” Kelly smiled again, not amused but stuck. “Well, all right.”

  Serves you right, you duplicitous, cheating child exploiter, Andie thought.

  Isolde shook her head. “Hold hands.”

  “Why?” Dennis said, and Andie took his hand.

  “Because people like it,” Isolde said. “You gonna be doing Twenty Questions all night?”

  “I’m merely trying to ascertain your methods,” Dennis said, and Isolde snorted again.

  “Okay,” she said, as Southie took Andie’s other hand. “Here’s how this works. You stay quiet. If you don’t believe, try to be neutral so Harold can get through. It’s hard enough without a bunch of snotty nonbelievers cramping his style. He’s not a happy man to begin with.”

  “Just who was Harold?” Dennis said, and Andie thought, Give it a rest, Dennis, I need this.

  “Stockbroker,” Isolde said. “This is his second career. You done with the questions now?”

  Dennis shrugged, and Isolde took a deep breath. “You all need to relax. So deep breaths, people. In . . .” She sucked in her breath and her already thin nostrils damn near disappeared under the pressure. “. . . and out. In . . .”

  “Hypnosis,” Dennis whispered in Andie’s ear. “She’s probably got all kinds of tricks hidden under that blouse.”

  Andie looked at Isolde. The only thing under her blouse were her considerable breasts and her even larger shoulder pads. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are the two of you done?” Isolde said, glaring at them again. “Because I’m trying to work here. Harold’s getting fed up, and if he leaves, it’s over.”

  “Sorry,” Andie said. “Really sorry.” She sucked in her breath to show that she was a team player, and Isolde went back to anesthetizing the table.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Isolde said, “Harold, I’m getting old here. What have we got?”

  There was a sharp knocking and the whole table except for Isolde jerked back.

  “Oh, my God! It’s the spirits!” Kelly said.

  “It’s your front door,” Isolde said, her voice flat. “This keeps up, Harold’s going out for a cigarette and not coming back.”

  “I’ll get it,” Andie said, and got up.

  When she opened the door, she saw a tall blond man in the darkness holding out his arms to her, and her heart did a little surge for a split second until she realized it was Will.

  “What are you doing here?” she said, annoyed.

  “Andie,