Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,36

to change the atmosphere in this room?”

“I had a feeling the folder was making the kids upset, so I threw a quick protection spell around it. The charm protects us from the vibes it’s putting out.”

“What vibes is it putting out?” Jude’s eyes strayed to the innocent-looking folder.

“I’m not really sure. While we were on our way back here, I was blocking it out.” Cope shrugged.

Jude knew bullshit when he heard it. Cope wasn’t telling him something. “Come on. I could use a snack too.” He headed toward the kitchen while Cope retrieved the folder. All three kids were in highchairs snacking on Cheerios. Wolf was eating them by the handful, with rogue cereal O’s stuck to his cheek, while Aurora chased individual ones around with her dainty fingers.

Ronan was stacking what looked like homemade chocolate chip cookies on a plate. “I thought the adults could use a little pick-me-up too.”

“You read my mind.” Jude went to the fridge, grabbing drinks for everyone.

Cope shoved a cookie in his mouth. His eyes slid shut as he enjoyed the gooey chocolate and warm sugar. “Thank Kaye for me and drop a hint that we could use a batch of love too.”

Jude knew Cope was trying to stave off the inevitable. Someone was going to have to open the folder and read its contents. He cracked open his ginger ale, took a long sip and reached for the folder. Flipping it open, Jude was shocked to see the sparse contents. There was a pink slip, similar to the receipt he’d gotten when he purchased the typewriter, and the yellow copy of his own receipt. He held it up for Cope to see.

“That’s it?” Cope asked, sounding outraged.

“No, there’s one more thing.” Jude couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He turned the folder toward Cope, not wanting to touch the piece of paper. Typed on it, over and over again, were words to another hymn.

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee. How great Thou art, how great Thou art.

“Jesus Christ,” Jude muttered. “No wonder the kids were feeling out of sorts.” Not wanting to touch the page, he grabbed a napkin and used it to turn the folder around and push it across the table to Cope and Ronan.

“Well, at least we know the previous owner was having the same issue I am.” Cope didn’t look relieved over his revelation.

“Did the shop owner mention the machine had a ghost writer when you bought it?” Ronan’s eyes were glued to the page of repeated lyrics.

“No, he didn’t say a word. I would have thought twice about buying it if I’d known it was haunted. We’ve got enough issues with spirits trying to reach Cope without inviting one more into our home.” Anger churned in Jude’s gut. “Is the shop owner duty-bound to tell me about the ghost? Like the way used car salesmen have to tell you if a car’s been in an accident or had flood damage.”

Ronan shook his head. “It’s an antique shop. There isn’t the same kind of covenant between seller and buyer in that situation. The owner should tell you if keys need oil or if the letter “O” sticks, but he’s not bound by that. Items in that store are sold ‘as is.’”

“How many people would believe him if he told them some object was haunted?” Cope mused.

“In a town like Salem, more than you’d think, but I see what you’re saying. Claiming to have haunted artifacts would likely drive off more business than it would bring in. Not everyone in Salem believes in the occult.” Jude hated using that word, but it fit.

“At least we’ve got a clue to go on.” Cope turned the folder back toward Jude. “The last owner is a man named James Hale.”

“I know that name.” Jude bit into his third cookie. “How do I know that name?” He turned a confused look to Ronan before picking up his phone and tapping the screen.

“The only James Hale I know wrote a book and ended up in rehab. He lives here in Salem. His family dates back to the Witch Trials. They’ve got a big house out by the harbor.”

“Oh, no.” Jude let out a shaky breath. A quick Google search reveled why James Hale sounded familiar. “Ronan’s right. Hale did write a book and his family has a big house here in town, but those aren’t the reasons I knew his name.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Ronan’s full attention was on Jude. His