25

Cry of the Dead

“Desssssstine!” hissed a whisper in the hallway. “Dessstine!”

Madame Destine backed into the piano, her backside hitting some of the keys. She shot up and rubbed her arms. “Eddy?” she called. “Is it you?”

The light whisper continued. “Desssstine! Let her go!”

Mr. Fox’s jaw fell open.

Mrs. Fisher raised her hand to her heart.

Archimedes peeked from around the sofa again.

Houdini wobbled on Madame Destine’s shoulder as her face lost all color.

But Maria was confused. If Edward could haunt like this, then why hadn’t he done it before? Why did he write through her if he had a real voice? He’d never uttered a single word until now. His presence was always subtle, unnoticeable if she didn’t know what to look for.

“Oh, Eddy! Are you coming for me?” cried Madame Destine. “I’m not ready!”

“Let … her … go!” the voice whispered.

Madame Destine dashed to Maria’s chair. “Did you hear that?” she said. Madame Destine pulled the chair from under Maria so that she had to land on her feet. Maria rushed to Mrs. Fisher’s side.

“I let her go!” said Madame Destine. “Eddy! D-d-don’t hate me! I had my reasons. You left me, remember!” Madame Destine sank into Maria’s chair. Her body seemed deflated, and her hair slipped from under her turban.

“I had no choice!” Madame Destine said. “I needed money! I had your daughter to care for!”

Mr. Fox scratched his head through his cap before raising a brow. He eased away from the living room and snuck down the long hallway toward the bedroom.

“I want you to go far away from this place,” the voice whispered. “And never come back.”

“Oh, Eddy! Please don’t haunt me!” cried Madame Destine. “I’m sorry!” The fake psychic rolled her hands into fists and brought them to her eyes.

Maria squeezed Mrs. Fisher’s hand and pointed. “Over there!”

A dark, cloaked spirit floated down the hall. The ghost seemed to drift lightly past Mr. Fox.

Madame Destine tore her hands away from her eyes before they widened. “Eddy! I had to do what I did to survive! You disappeared in the river! Remember?” Her body shook. She pushed her turban back in place and whined, “What do you want from me? What more can I do? Don’t come for me, Eddy!”

The tiny banshee entered the living room in a mass of black—was it satin bedsheets? Maria took a shallow breath.

Mr. Fox tilted his head, scooting past the ghost before taking a deliberate step so that his shoe pinned down the tail of the floating bedsheet.

The ghost continued to float.

“Okay! You want me to change? Then I’ll change!” screamed Madame Destine.

As the ghost moved forward, the sheet remained pinned under Mr. Fox’s foot and gradually fell away.

Madame Destine’s eyebrows arched. “You!” she said.

Then Maria saw him. It was Sebastian. The dark bedsheet lay limp on the floor behind him.

Sebastian stopped and looked around.

“Sebastian!” cried Maria. He had heard everything on the walkie-talkie. He had come for her!

Disgust overcame Madame Destine. “Sebastian?” she asked. “A dumb kid?” She darted her eyes around the room. “Well, Eddy. It looks like you’re not coming for me, after all!” She pointed at Sebastian and ordered, “Tie him up with the widow!” Then she smiled, rubbing her hands together. “We’ve got a treasure to find, and Maria’s gonna find it for us!”

Maria’s eyes darted from Mrs. Fisher to Sebastian to Mr. Fox and finally Madame Destine. “But I haven’t been able to decipher any of Edward’s clues!” she said.

“You’ll find me that treasure, Maria!” Madame Destine swung the message at her. “I’ll give you five minutes to make sense of it. And if you don’t, then say goodbye to your friends!”

Mr. Fox ripped the bedsheets into long strips and fastened them around the legs and wrists of Sebastian. He did the same to Mrs. Fisher.

Maria took the message. Then she held the paper up and tried to keep from shaking.

She couldn’t swallow because her mouth was dry, but she knew her friends needed her.

Everything depended on her now.