Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,59

at lunch and there had been a time or three when Cope had almost nose-dived into his sandwich. The only way to prove his point was to soldier on. “Why don’t we try to see if we can talk to Geneva Beecher?”

Doing some quick math in his head, there were several ways this could go wrong. First and foremost was the fact that Jude wouldn’t be able to see or hear Geneva. If Cope was off his game or half-awake, they might miss a vital clue. Again, he wasn’t going to voice his thoughts, but he was worried, nonetheless.

Cope grabbed the garden tour brochure from the center of the table. With a dubious look on his face, Cope took a deep breath. “Geneva Beecher?

Silence.

The brochure had nothing to do with Geneva and didn’t really have much to do with the house. It was all the rage in Salem to do summer garden tours of the stately old houses in town. The tours were so popular that they added a Holiday tour featuring hot cocoa and treats while people toured the interior of the home. Jude knew the brochure would be of no help. Yet one more thing he was keeping to himself.

“Geneva, can you hear me?” Cope’s voice sounded tight. Jude could tell frustration was starting to set in.

Jude stayed silent as Cope kept trying to connect with the spirit of the deceased young woman.

“We could really use your help, Geneva.” Cope was begging now.

While Jude pondered when he should put an end to this session, he felt the left side of his body warm. “Hello, gorgeous! Where have you been all my life?” Jude couldn’t see her, but he knew Bertha Craig was standing next to him.

“Bertha is laughing. She’s always liked you best.” Cope crossed his arms over his chest making him look like a sulky child.

“Not true. She saved your life back in Galveston, remember?” If Bertha hadn’t been there for Cope, Jude never would have met him. He’d always be in her debt for that alone, never mind the countless other times she’d been there to save the day.

Cope’s answer was so muttered, Jude had no idea what he said. It couldn’t have been good.

Jude watched in wonder as Cope listened to what Bertha was saying. He was staring at a spot just above Jude’s shoulder. The only sign he was actually listening to something was the way he’d nod occasionally.

“Bertha wants me to tell you what she’s saying, word for word.” Cope rolled his eyes.

If Bertha wasn’t here, Jude would be tempted to take his husband over his knee. The man needed a good spanking and then a nap. He hoped Bertha was thinking along the same lines. “Yes, my love.” He batted his eyes up at Bertha.

“Geneva Beecher isn’t here. I don’t know where she is. Crow and I can’t seem to locate her,” Cope parroted from Bertha.

“What does that mean? Is she off living her best life in some out of the way nook in heaven?” Jude couldn’t help being a bit snarky now that Bertha had lightened the mood.

“It could mean a lot of things,” Cope said for himself. “She could be intentionally hiding herself, like the spirit in Peg’s attic. She could be crossed over, happy, and not wanting to deal with something from her past she’s already resolved. Or…” He trailed off.

“Or she’s being kept from us.” Jude shook his head. “Bertha, do you think she’s being held back by the same person who hurt Brooks?”

Cope nodded his head again. “It’s possible. Bertha said she still isn’t able to reach Brooks. She thinks there’s some kind of binding spell involved but it’s one that she can’t break. She’s tried.”

“Shit.” Jude was afraid of that. “We need to speak to Madam Aurora.” If anyone could help them with a seemingly unbreakable spell, it would be Aurora.

“There are too many questions and not nearly enough answers.” Cope sighed.

“What does Bertha think the next step in our investigation should be?” Jude turned his brightest smile up to the spirit standing next to him.

Cope sighed. “I can’t sleep now. There’s so much to research.”

“I told him the same thing. He needs a nap and a good supper.” It wasn’t often Cope didn’t listen to reason. Jude was glad Bertha was here and on his side.

“What I don’t need is a babysitter.” Cope shot Jude a dirty look.

“If you take a nap, we’ll all keep working, I promise.” Jude crossed his heart with a pinkie