“Nonsense,” Jolie said. She put out a hand to pet him, and before she could make contact, he disappeared.

My arms ached, suddenly empty. I felt the echo of an old loss in my heart.

Jolie’s eyes were enormous. “What just happened here?”

“Do you believe me now?”

“No,” Jolie said. “I still think you’re full of shit. How did you do that?” She turned in her chair, scanning the kitchen. “With a projector, right? Some kind of hologram?”

“Sure,” I said. “My credit card was denied at IHOP, but I can afford all kinds of sophisticated video equipment. Disneyworld has nothing on me.”

Jolie’s rich mahogany complexion paled. I’m not sure how that was possible, but I saw it with my own eyes. “I am losing it,” she said, with a gulp, and I instantly felt sorry for her.

Nobody knew better than I did what a jolt it was to see a ghost.

“You’re perfectly sane, Jolie.”

“That was the cat—”

“The one Geoff killed, when I was four,” I said.

Jolie wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked a couple of times. I got up and got her a bottle of water, from the dwindling store in the fridge, and handed it over—after checking to make sure the seal hadn’t been broken.

The encounter would have been hard on anybody, but Jolie was a scientist. She’d be a long time getting the situation straight in her head, especially since her brain was heavily weighted to the left side.

“What—what does it mean?” she asked.

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” I answered.

Jolie tested my forehead for fever, then her own.

The phone rang, and I was so concerned about Jolie that I didn’t check caller ID. If I had, I wouldn’t have taken the call.

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

“THIS IS MARGERY DELUCA,” said Nick’s mother. She sounded uncertain, as though she were as surprised to find herself calling me as I was to hear from her. “Maybe you remember me?”

I also remembered Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan and Jack the Ripper. “How could I forget?” I countered sweetly.

“I was just awakened, from a sound sleep, by the strangest dream—”

Jolie peered at me curiously.

I put the phone on speaker.

“O-kayyy,” I said, drawing the word out.

“I would have sworn Nick came to me.” Saying this, Attila DeLuca sounded so small and so sad that I almost felt sorry for her. And I stress almost.

I didn’t speak. I’d rehearsed what I would say to the monster-in-law a million times, if I ever got the chance. Now, here it was, and not a damn thing came to mind.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I called you, dear.”

Dear.

Jolie grimaced.

“I guess I am,” I said.

“I feel an urgent need to meet with you in person,” Margery said.

Jolie shook her head wildly from side to side, made a throat-slashing motion with one hand.