“No, lie there for a minute. I’ll just sit.”
Jane did. She sat on the foot of the bed and studied the room, seeing it as it was now—and trying to envision what it had been like in the past. She focused her mind, imagining the place without the bath and the wall separating it from the bedroom. The cell would have been plain, the floor uncovered. There might have been a few narrow bunks in it. The bathroom would have consisted of a chamber pot, nothing more.
The cell was at the end of the jail that almost abutted the Gilded Lily. From the bathroom area—closed-in now—there might have been a barred window that looked onto the Gilded Lily. Had Trey Hardy believed he was going to hang? He probably hadn’t expected to be gunned down in his cell, but he might well have expected that his life was about to end.
She rose and walked into the bathroom, glancing into the mirror above the sink. She was sure that, at one time, barred windows had hung where the mirror was now. Trey might have paced the room and looked over at the Lily. Right here, she stood only about twenty feet away from where the audience would be sitting at the Gilded Lily tonight.
And if the jail had a basement, the basement here would adjoin the room in the basement below the Gilded Lily, the one that held all the props and old mannequins.
She opened her eyes. Trey Hardy was there.
He stood behind her. He seemed as real as flesh and blood. His eyes were dark brown, his hair was dark, too, and he had a handsome, weathered face. The lines in it were attractive, as if he’d spent more of his life smiling than in anger. But now he looked grave as he stared back at her.
“Help me,” she said. “I’m trying to help you.”
He slammed a fist against the wall, his expression bleak, frustrated. She jumped. “You can speak,” she encouraged him. “You can speak if you try.”
His mouth moved; a sound escaped but it was like a groan....
He slammed the wall again and stamped his foot. He was certainly practiced at causing bangs and bumps, even if his speech was nothing but a groan.
Suddenly she heard a knocking on the outer door.
“What the hell?” Kelsey cried, leaping up.
Trey Hardy disappeared in a flash.
“Agent Everett!” Mike Addison called. “Agent Everett! Are you all right in there?”
Kelsey was already at the door by the time Jane reached it. Mike was standing outside. “Your neighbors were worried. What on earth are you two doing in here?” he demanded, looking suspiciously from one to the other.
“I’m sorry,” Kelsey said, shrugging. “I was zoned out.”
“Well, they heard a tremendous thump and a bang,” Mike said. “This is a wooden building, you know. Sound carries!”
“Whatever they heard must have been from outside,” Jane said, meeting his eyes. “Kelsey was sleeping. I was just fixing my hair. I dropped my brush and hit my head when I bent down to get it. Maybe that was it?”
“Well, keep the noise down, please. Forgive me, but I do have other guests.”
“It wasn’t us, Mike, honest,” Jane said sweetly. “Maybe it was the ghosts—but the noise was probably because of whatever’s happening at the theater.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s what I’ll say,” Mike said, turning to leave.
Kelsey closed the door, rolling her eyes. “Honestly...”
Jane looked at her. “It was Hardy. He kept banging on the wall in the bathroom. He was trying to tell me something, but he can’t speak. In all these years, he hasn’t learned how to speak to those who can see him.”
“Where is he now?” Kelsey asked.
“I don’t see him. When Mike started pounding on the door...he disappeared.”
Kelsey angled her head. “I hope I can get one of your ghosts to speak with me, or at least make an appearance. You can’t be in two places at the same time.”
“A number of people have seen both of these ghosts. Most of their friends, of course, assume they’re crazy. Even a ghost-busting TV guy went running out of the Gilded Lily. But I’m sure they’ll eventually communicate with us. I just don’t know what they can tell us.” She paused. “Sage sent me some fairly general warnings, but aside from that...”
“Like you said, they’re definitely trying to tell us something.” Kelsey’s phone rang and she quickly picked it up. “It’s Logan,” she murmured a few seconds later. “He and Sloan are next door. They thought we should eat.”
“Yeah, food sounds great,” Jane said.
Kelsey shook her head and slowly smiled. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you? Logan told me that he’s a good cop and an all-around good guy. He wasn’t afraid to quit his job and come home to take care of his grandfather who was dying of cancer.”
“I’m that obvious?” Jane asked.
Kelsey shrugged. “Not to someone else. I work with you. I went through the academy with you. We see ghosts together and have rational conversations about them. That gives us a bond, you know?”
“Yes, it does,” Jane agreed. “And yes, I’m sleeping with him.”