Saturday, April 13, 6:30 p.m.
“What is it, Joe?”
“I overhead Nell talking with her aunt and uncle. She’s not well. And her uncle’s forcing her to have these sessions to make money, even though they make her headaches worse.”
“Did you hear anything about how she does it? How she tricks people?”
“No, nothing like that! They just talked about how sick she felt, and how Mr. Allen had scheduled her to keep doing sessions.” I lowered my voice even further. “And, he told her about us.”
“Us?”
“He told Nell she had to talk with two young boys—not young men, Charlie, but boys—on Monday. That they had a little local newspaper. That she should charm them so they’d write a nice article and she’d have more customers.” I smacked my fist into my other hand. Hard. “I publish a real newspaper. He made it sound as if we were children playin’ with a toy printing press.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to show him we’re more than that, won’t we? By writing an article that won’t bring her paying customers. By exposing her and her uncle and aunt as frauds.”
My mind whirred with confusing ideas. “Her uncle may be cruel, but that doesn’t mean she’s a fraud. We have no proof.”
“Not yet—but we will have. I’m sure of it.”
People were beginning to gather in the hall outside the ballroom.
“We’ll listen and take notes, and watch what happens,” said Charlie, taking out his pad. He grinned. “Monday we’ll meet with your friend Nell, but she won’t be able to charm us, no matter how hard she tries. You’ll see!”
He went and sat down. We’d agreed we wouldn’t sit together, so we could see the room from different angles.
All I could think was that if we wrote a story saying Nell was a fraud, then how could she support herself?
What would happen to her then? How would she feel if we wrote that she didn’t hear the spirits she’d told me were a part of her life?
And how would she support herself if no one believed her?
Perhaps most important, what would her uncle do?