5.5
Abellona’s is, indeed, situated in a small storefront on Main Street, the name neatly painted on the window over a glowing OPEN sign. Amber ducks in first, to make sure they’re not interrupting anything important, and then waves Landis, Grace, and Mal inside. A bell chimes as Grace pushes the door open. The front of the psychic shop is set up like a waiting room, chairs lined up against the wall facing a table full of magazines about the occult and a secretary’s desk with a large jar of chocolates in eyeball-patterned wrappers. Next to the desk is a thick, beaded curtain that must be the entrance to the main part of the shop.
Landis’s suspicion is confirmed within seconds when a man pushes through the curtain, looking pale and shaken. Without acknowledging any of the people in the waiting room, the man snaps open his wallet and tosses a wad of dollar bills down on the unoccupied secretary’s desk, then hightails it out of Abellona’s. The bell chimes again as the door slams shut.
“Well, that could have gone better!”
The cheerful, husky voice is disembodied for a moment, until someone else parts the beaded curtain and steps into the waiting room. It’s a woman, a little taller than Grace, wearing a sundress that flows around her body and exposes her tan, muscular arms. The sets of bangles around her wrists bounce and clank against one another as she ties her short, dark hair up in a ponytail, grinning.
“Hey, Amber,” she says, tilting her head towards the blond ghost in greeting. “Who’re your friends?”
“This is Grace, Landis, and Mal,” Amber chirps, pointing at each in turn. “They were hoping you could help us with a ghost problem.”
“Ghost p - what kind of ghost problem?” The woman asks, She looks the group over - Landis guesses by the way that her gaze lingers on Mal that she actually can see ghosts, and isn’t just pretending for her regular customers. Her thick eyebrows furrow together. “It’s nice to meet you all, but if you’re all just looking for a séance or something…”
A séance? Is that what that guy was here for? He must not have liked what he saw. Landis scratches the back of his neck, looking at the floor. He wasn’t expecting Abellona - if this is Abellona - to be so outgoing. Most of the spirit mediums he knows, including himself, tend to keep to themselves. But maybe she’s a special case. She must be, if she’s making her powers into a day job like this. Granted, Austin’s powers are his day job, too, but he doesn’t exactly rent out a storefront to broadcast the fact that he can talk to peoples’ murdered family members.
“Actually, we’re looking into the murder of a handful of ghosts around town. We were hoping you could help us,” Grace says. She’s seated in one of the waiting room chairs, an open magazine in her lap that Landis can’t tell if she was actually reading, or just leafing through for show. Landis cringes a little at the use of the word “murder”, but doesn’t bother to protest it. “You’re Abellona, right?”
The woman smiles. “Most people call me Abbie when I’m off the clock. You’re talking about all the ghosts that have just vanished into thin air, right?”
Grace nods.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too,” Abbie says. She hops up to sit on the secretary desk, her legs primly pressed together. “Some of my regulars haven’t come around in weeks - at first I just thought they were busy or something, but it seems like nobody’s seen them since the last time I did, or even earlier. I didn’t know it was murder, though.”
“We think someone’s going after ghosts on purpose,” Landis says quietly. “Maybe another ghost. Uh, can I ask - are you a witch or something, or have you always been able to see ghosts? Because I’ve only really met one other person who can -”
“A witch? God, no.” Abbie laughs. “I mean, I guess some people like to think I am. But I’m pretty sure I’ve been able to see ghosts for…well, couldn’t give you an exact timespan, but I first noticed I could do it a couple of years ago. Probably around the time everyone was making a big fuss about your arrest, Mr. Holliday.”
Mal guffaws, and Landis feels his face flush. He hadn’t been expecting that. Most people in Antlers usually have the good sense - or the good manners - not to bring up the fact that he was arrested, and rumored to have killed people.
“Um,” he says ineloquently, feeling like he should say something, and coming up short. Abbie laughs again, not unkindly.
“Sorry. Just wanted to know if you really were, you know, that Landis.”
“He is,” Grace says. Landis can hear annoyance creeping into her tone. “But that doesn’t really have anything to do with this, does it?”
Abbie raises her hands peacefully, still smiling. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Landis mumbles, rubbing the long scar on his forearm with his palm.. He’s really just eager to get back to the discussion at hand, and forget this awkward little digression ever happened.
“Anyway,” Abbie continues, “once I realized I could talk to all of the ghosts around here, I also realized I could help them out by putting them back in contact with their families again. So I rented out this place, and started advertising. Amber and some of my other regulars help me find new ghosts sometimes, if they’re looking to get back in touch with a relative, or finish some kind of business they left behind.”
Amber nods. “Abbie’s done a lot of good for us.”
“But the whole ghosts disappearing thing, it’s gonna be bad for business if it keeps going on like this.” Abbie frowns. “I’d be willing to help you all look into it if you want.”
“Do you think it’s possible that a ghost could be killing other ghosts?” Grace asks. “They can interact with each other like normal people do, right?”
“Right,” Amber confirms, reaching across and pinching Mal on the arm. He jumps a little, rubbing the spot she pinched and scowling.
Abbie’s frown grows deeper, her eyebrows furrowing again. “It’s definitely possible. Especially if it’s the ghost of someone who killed while they were alive…maybe they’re trying to recapture what it felt like?”
“Like, a serial killer continuing their work into the afterlife?” Amber asks. “Oh, jeez.”
Grace sits bolt upright in her chair, gripping the sides with white knuckles. The magazine on her lap slides to the floor. “I just saw a news report a couple weeks ago about a murder suspect who died in a car wreck a few towns over! You don’t think -”
“That could be it,” Abbie says.
“It’s probably worth looking into,” Landis admits. Finally, we’re getting somewhere. Maybe we’ll be done with this before -
A flash of something dark and glossy catches his eye from outside the shop window, and Landis loses his train of thought, turning his head slightly to see what it is. His heart lurches in his chest. The man from outside the diner is standing across the street, leaning against a lamppost, checking his pocket watch. Slowly, he looks up, as though he’s aware that he’s being watched. His eyes meet Landis’s.
“- to the Sheriff’s department, and see what we find,” Grace is saying, as Landis hastily tears his eyes away from the window. She gives him a funny look, but says only, “How does that sound?”
Landis forces a smile. It’s almost painful. “You guys can go on ahead of me, actually. I’m gonna stop at home to pick up my car and change, and we can figure out somewhere to meet up after that. Okay?”
“Okay,” Grace says, a little reluctantly, standing up from her seat. “Just be careful.”
The group exits the psychic shop, Abbie lingering a little longer than the rest just to lock up and count the cash from the man who left in a hurry. Landis and Mal stay on the sidewalk outside Abellona’s as Grace, Amber, and Abbie walk off, neither speaking until the ladies have fully receded into the distance.
“So,” Mal says finally, “your friend’s back.”
“Yeah.” Landis sneaks a look to see if the man is still standing there, across the street. He is. “Time to go see what he wants, I guess.”
The man raises an eyebrow as they approach, but he doesn’t disappear this time. His arms are folded across his chest, and up close, he’s definitely a head taller than Landis, at least. Landis gets as close to him as he dares, and jabs a finger into the man’s chest angrily.
“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but you’ve been scaring the shit out of me ever since you turned up, so -”
“Have I?” The man cocks his head to one side, almost owlishly. Landis grits his teeth.
“Yeah, actually, you have!”
“Ah…allow me to apologize, then,” the man says, and, taking Landis’s hand in his, bends into a sweeping bow. He kisses Landis’s hand gently before he lets it go.
“My name is Naberius,” he says as he straightens up, placing a delicate, long-fingered hand on his chest. “I have some questions for you regarding the death of the demon Crocell. So long as you cooperate, I don’t anticipate that it should take very long.”
He smiles. Landis makes a choking sound in the back of his throat. Somewhere close by, he can hear Mal guffawing again.