Her husband made a sound in his throat, and Elizabeth couldn’t tell if he shared her grief or if he was protesting this charade.

“Don’t be sad, Mama,” Cindy said in her singsong voice. “I have lots of friends here. I’m very happy.”

“Are you, my darling? I’m so glad.”

Elizabeth winced when she saw the tears streaming down the woman’s face.

“Papa? Are you there?” Cindy asked uncertainly.

The man looked up as if he expected to see his daughter hovering over the table. His face was awful to behold, a terrible mixture of hope and despair. “Y-yes.”

“Papa, you must believe. I’m really here. I will send you a sign. You will hear from someone and you will know I sent them.”

His despair transformed into naked pain, but his wife said, “Yes, darling, yes. Send someone to Papa so he will believe.”

“I will, I will,” Cindy promised as her voice faded away.

A long moment of silence followed. Madame wasn’t even humming.

“What about me?” the tall woman said sharply, shocking everyone. “Your spirits keep promising to tell me what I want to know, but no one ever does. When are they going to speak to me?”

Elizabeth waited, giving Madame her chance.

Madame raised her head, eyes closed tightly. “Spirits, can you hear me? Are you there?”

And Elizabeth moaned and hissed, the long sibilant sound finally forming into a word. “SSSSS . . . Cybil? Is that you?”

CHAPTER SIX

Elizabeth heard the gasps but did not open her eyes.

“Yes, I’m here,” Cybil said in apparent surprise. “Who are you?”

“SSSSS . . . Cybil, why do you torment me?”

“Uncle, is that you?” Cybil demanded.

“You must let me rest.”

“I will! I promise, but first you have to tell me where you hid the will. I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find it.”

“I’m so tired,” Elizabeth complained.

“I’m sure you are,” Cybil said quite reasonably under the circumstances. “But if you’ll just tell me where you hid the will, I swear I will never bother you again.”

“So greedy . . .” Elizabeth muttered.

“How dare you say such a thing!” Cybil cried in outrage. “You left me your money for a reason.”

“So impatient . . .”

“Just give me a clue!” Cybil almost shouted.

“Miss Miles, please,” Cindy’s mother soothed her.

“He’s a cantankerous old fool,” Cybil muttered.

“Don’t offend him,” Andy’s mother warned.

Cybil sighed with long-suffering patience. “Just one clue, Uncle,” she said in a somewhat strained but noticeably calmer voice.

Elizabeth moaned, causing everyone to tense, but then she said, “Fire . . . place.”

“Which one?” Cybil asked.

“Bed . . . room.”

Cybil’s voice took on a rather desperate edge. “Your bedroom?”

“Yesssss,” Elizabeth slurred. “Looosssse brick.”

“Where?”

“Bottom. Right.” Elizabeth moaned again and rocked her head from side to side. “Bottom. Right.”

“Is that all?” Cybil asked urgently.