Speak of the Wicked (Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery: A Cozy Mystery on Kindle Unlimited Book 9)

by Lotta Smith

  By his side, I caught Rick’s lips twitching, as if he was resisting an urge to laugh out loud.

  “I’ve never heard of Mr. Barnes.” Jackie was crossing her arms by my side. “When I was staying at that park by Pier 26, I came across many self-proclaimed psychic mediums, but none of them even recognized I was there.”

  “Then you found me. Lucky you,” I whispered, pretending I was talking to Rick. “I’m talking to Jackie,” I informed him in sotto voce.

  “I assumed so,” he whispered back. “Obviously, you’re the luckier one to have found me.”

  As I rolled my eyes, Jackie did a full-body shake. “Oh my God… I’m growing so nervous!”

  “You’ll be fine. If you feel the psychic to be an evil one, you can get out of here before he does anything nasty to you,” I said.

  “No, that’s not the point. What if the psychic himself turns out to be fake, but Mrs. Prescott manages to capture me on her phone camera? My photo might go totally viral! Oh my God! I have to start blogging. Mandy, can you help me set one up? I want social media accounts as well. I might end up with way more followers on Instagram than celebrities!”

  “If you haven’t noticed, you’re a ghost, Jackie,” I reminded my guardian angel, then filled Rick in. “Jackie wants to start blogging and using social media.”

  “Wow.” He chuckled. “Then again, it doesn’t sound that stupid or crazy. You’re following Gudetama the lazy egg on Twitter, along with 800 thousand others.”

  “No. Along with 834 thousand, and counting,” I corrected him.

  “That’s impressive.”

  Five minutes later, a very tall man arrived at the salon, led by Mr. Silverman.

  Mr. Macomber raised his hand. “Good evening, Mr. Barnes.” Then he turned to the rest of us. “This is Mr. Barnes, a psychic medium who acquired his ability to connect with the other side at the age of three. He’s traveled all over the world to brush up the skill. Now that his followers have been growing exponentially, we’re all so lucky to grab a hold of him.”

  “Thank you for your compliment,” Mr. Barnes said in a muffled voice. Unlike many famous psychics on TV who often looked like your regular Joe and Jane, he was clad in a hooded black cape that covered him from head to toe, a la Darth Vader, minus the mask that produced Darth’s signature audible breathing. His back was straight and almost looked like he had a long ruler hiding behind his back.

  I glanced at Jackie, who was staying in the salon and keenly observing Mr. Barnes. Considering Jackie didn’t scream in pain and disappear, the so-called psychic medium’s power couldn’t be that strong. Jackie tried to get his attention by talking to him and waving her hands in front of him, but Mr. Barnes didn’t respond to her, nor try to brush her away.

  “He’s a fraud,” Jackie concluded, coming back to my side.

  Despite Jackie’s dissing, Mr. Barnes didn’t even glance at her. On this special day, Jackie was wearing a shiny gold dress with a ton of fringe details, and she was quite hard to miss.

  Mr. Barnes asked Mr. Silverman to turn off the lights and light the candles. The salon was soon filled with the soft light of candles that moved and flickered.

  Looking at the lighting and nodding like he was satisfied, he approached the group. At the round table, the seat between Mrs. Rosenberg and Mr. Macomber was reserved for the psychic.

  When Mr. Barnes was seated, Karen looked around at us. “All right. Let’s start the séance,” she said casually.

  Nodding, we all mumbled in agreement. There was a certain tension in the room.

  “Thank you for gathering here tonight,” the psychic medium started. “Tonight, we are going to summon the spirit of the late Mrs. Macomber.”

  “Oh, are we calling Diana?” Mrs. Prescott tilted her head to the side. “I thought we’d be contacting Mr. Michael Rosenberg tonight.”

  I sucked in air. “I didn’t know he was dead,” I whispered into Rick’s ear. Karen talked about Michael as if he was still alive. Sometimes, people with high-profile jobs had to work during holidays as well. Take Rick and Dan, for example, who worked on the Fourth of July. I had imagined Mr. Rosenberg was really busy for the night.

  “Oh, right,” Rick whispered back. “He died of an accident while we were on our honeymoon in Japan. I learned about his death after returning to the city. That’s why you didn’t know about it.”

  “He died of an accident?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “That must have been shocking.”

  “According to the police report, he fell off the stairs while drinking,” he informed me. “He wasn’t an alcoholic, but he loved whisky, so I’m assuming he wasn’t miserable when he passed away.”

  Nodding slightly, I searched the salon for Mr. Rosenberg’s ghost using just my senses. I suspected that Karen didn’t want to admit her husband’s death, and that was why she spoke of him like a living person. Jackie and our ghostly acquaintances often said they tended to visit our side of the world more often during the holiday seasons, so I assumed he might be visiting the mansion. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find him.

  “Is it really possible to summon dead people’s spirits?” Ken Tillard cocked his head to the side. He sounded purely skeptical, bordering on a mocking tone.

  Mr. Macomber furrowed his eyebrows, then took a deep breath, as if to calm himself.

  “Oh, he looks so annoyed,” Jackie said. “And to be honest, I’m not happy about Ken Tillard’s comment. I have a hunch that the psychic medium dude here is a fraud, but that doesn’t mean humans can’t interact with us.” She rolled her eyes.

  I tried my best to keep my face straight. As Jackie went on, Mr. Barnes didn’t seem to be offended at all.

  But when he said, “Of course, we’re already having ghostly visitors,” I stopped breathing for a second.

  Jackie’s mouth opened, shaping an O. “Do you see me?” She approached Mr. Barnes and waved her hands in front of his face. He didn’t react, but he could be just ignoring her.

  Was he actually sensing Jackie and listening in on her? I stole a glance at the psychic medium, but his expression was unreadable.

  Something resembling shock and anticipation filled in the air. Except for the psychic medium himself, Rick seemed to be the only person who kept his poker face.

  “Where’s the spirit?” Ken Tillard asked, sounding like a challenge.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Mr. Barnes faced Karen.

  “Um, well….” She fumbled with her words, but shook her head. “To be honest, no. I’m not familiar with elements like ghosts and spirits, so it’s not easy to believe I’m having spirits over to my house.”

  “Okay, then I’ll have the spirit do a little trick for you,” Mr. Barnes said.

  “A trick for me… by the spirit?” Karen furrowed her eyebrows. Her voice was slightly shaky, like she was frightened by the idea.

  “The spirit is going to touch you. No need to worry, I’m talking about a delicate female ghost,” Mr. Barnes assured.

  I looked at Jackie, wondering if she would qualify as a delicate female ghost. When she was alive, she used to have a girl’s golden heart inside the tall, muscular male body. As a ghost, she was very charming in her own ways, but delicate wasn’t the word I’d use to describe her.

  Jackie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God… Mandy, he may be real. He can see me as a delicate, beautiful girl.”

  I bit my lower lip, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

  “Oh my… it’s a little bit scary,” Karen mumbled nervously.

  “It’s okay. You have nothing to be scared of. All you’ll feel is a little sensation.”

  “A sensation?” Karen held her arms up, as if in defense. “What sensation will I feel?”

  “May I take your hand?” Mr. Barnes extended his hand for Karen. “The spirit will come inside you through me.”

  “Excuse me?” Karen visibly flinched. “Will that be safe?”

  “Don’t we have to stop him? She looks really uncomfortable,” I whispered t
o Rick.

  He shrugged, whispering, “It’s okay. Let the guy do some parlor trick.”

  Mr. Barnes continued talking to Karen. “It feels slightly warm when the spirit comes inside you, but that’s a temporary thing. You’ll feel warm for a little while, but soon everything goes back to normal.”

  “I’ll feel warm?” Karen parroted.

  “Yes.” Mr. Barnes nodded. “Spirits holding grudges or those trapped in sadness tend to make you feel cold, but the good, happy ghosts tend to feel like a ray of sun on a warm day in winter.”

  He reached for Karen’s hand, prompting her to look at me. Again I glanced at Rick, who had crossed his arms and looked bored. Mrs. Prescott and the other guests were staring at Karen expectantly. Her face grew paler, looking like she was in desperate need for help.

  I opened my mouth, attempting to speak up for her, but Rick clasped my hand in his before I said anything.

  “Don’t,” he mouthed to me.

  Karen took a deep breath like she’d made up her mind, and then she offered her hand to Mr. Barnes.

  He took her hand in his, mumbling something like a spell. “Mrs. Rosenberg, please take a deep breath. You’re relaxed, completely at ease,” he said, massaging her hand.

  “Okay. I’ll try,” Karen replied, breathing steadily. At first, her jaw was clenched, but as she breathed in and out, she seemed to be unwinding, a small smile on her lips.

  “How do you feel?” Mr. Barnes asked.

  “I don’t know….” Karen slowly tilted her head to the side.

  “You will feel your hand growing warmer,” he said, stroking her hand once again.

  “It gets warmer if you keep on rubbing her hand, but that’s called frictional heat,” Jackie pointed out. I couldn’t agree more, and I wanted to tell him that myself, but Rick was glaring at me, telling me with his eyes to shut up.

  “Wow….” Karen let out a gasp.

  “Do you feel the heat?” Mr. Barnes asked.

  “Yes, but… why?” Karen stared at her hand. “You weren’t rubbing my hand that hard… but it’s so warm. Oh my… it’s getting kinda creepy….”

  “Please don’t be scared,” Mr. Barnes told her, like a hypnotist talking. “If it’s feeling warm, you’re with a good, friendly spirit, so rest assured. On the contrary, if you treat spirits with too much skepticism or hate, they might be offended.”

  “Oh, I see.” Karen nodded. “So the spirits are just like us humans.”

  “That’s right. We used to be humans before popping out of flesh and blood,” Jackie said matter-of-factly. “Still, I don’t understand why you’re feeling so warm when I’m not touching you at all. Is it some kind of a hypnosis?”

  Mr. Barnes paid no attention to Jackie’s question. “The spirits work in exactly the same pattern as our hearts. To be honest, they tend to become more sensitive as they leave the prison of the body. They’re more emotional than living humans like us.” He reached for Karen’s forehead. “Okay, the spirit has completely settled inside you.”

  “Are you sure?” Karen asked.

  “No way! He’s lying,” Jackie commented. “Look, I’m here, Karen.” She attempted to tap the woman’s shoulder, but her fingertips went through Karen’s body.

  “You may not have noticed, but the spirit has already taken over your body,” Mr. Barnes said, still touching Karen’s forehead.

  “No kidding.” Karen offered a small smile.

  “Okay then. Can you stand up?” Mr. Barnes asked, still touching her forehead.

  “Of course I can,” Karen said and tried to get up, but… “Oh….” Her eyes widened.

  “Can you?” Mr. Barnes asked again.

  “I can’t.” Karen frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on. Why can’t I stand up?”

  “It looks like the spirit is pulling a little prank on you.” Mr. Barnes winked.

  “Come on, I’m not doing anything to her,” Jackie protested. “Also, it’s not like we can slip inside anyone’s body. Some people are easy to sneak in, but some are not.”

  “Seriously, you’re pushing her with your hand,” Ken Tillard chimed in. “Perhaps that’s what’s keeping her seated.”

  “I’m not pushing her so hard. I’m just touching the spirit inside her.” Mr. Barnes looked at Tillard, removing all but the tip of his index finger from Karen’s forehead. “Now it’s just my fingertip touching you, Mrs. Rosenberg. Can you stand up now?”

  Karen inhaled deeply. Furrowing her eyebrows, she tried to stand up. “No… I still can’t stand up.”

  “Okay. How about this?” Mr. Barnes mumbled something and released his hand from her forehead. “Now you should be able to get up. Can you try?”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Oh my gosh, what if I can’t stand up anymore?” But she was standing on her feet as she spoke.

  “Congratulations!” Mr. Macomber applauded enthusiastically, prompting everyone to follow him and clap.

  “I’m so glad you can stand again,” Mrs. Prescott said eagerly.

  Karen nodded and mumbled, “Me too.”

  As the applause wore off, Mr. Barnes exhaled contentedly. “Still, the spirit is staying inside you, and she says she’s going to do a little trick on your hand.”

  “Hello? I’m here, totally out of her!” Jackie waved her hands in front of Mr. Barnes’s face. “Mandy, when are you going to tell everyone he’s a fraud?”

  I didn’t know, so I gave her a slight shrug.

  “Will she touch my hand?” Karen raised her hand and observed it.

  “Yes, your hand. Excuse me.” He clasped her arm by the elbow. “Please relax your muscles. Your fingers will start moving regardless of your will.”

  “My fingers? Okay.” This time, Karen seemed to be quite calm. As her long, thick eyelashes fluttered, her arm relaxed. Her fingers were slightly bent, but they appeared loose.

  Seconds later, her fingers started to move, as if they were pulsating to some rhythm.

  “Oh!” she gasped.

  “That’s the spirit moving them,” Mr. Barnes told her.

  “I think so….” Karen looked at her twitching fingers with wide eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re not moving them on your own?” Mrs. Prescott asked.

  “I’m not moving them. How strange.” Karen shook her head.

  As her fingers stopped moving, Mr. Barnes mumbled once more and slipped his hand away from hers. Then he stood up, walked behind her, and tapped her back with his rosary.

  “Now the spirit has left your body,” he said.

  “Wow.” Karen pressed her hands to her chest, breathing deeply.

  “That was quite something, but I can’t help but think Mrs. Rosenberg was just playing her part in cahoots with you,” Ken Tillard said skeptically.

  “Oh, I see. Maybe he’s right.” Jackie nodded. “Except in that case, I don’t know why Karen asked for Mandy and Rick’s presence.”

  Mr. Barnes clapped his hands. “Okay then, let’s test with you now. How does that sound?”

  “Not bad. Let’s.” Ken nodded and Mr. Barnes did what he’d done to Karen all over again on the actor.

  “Oh my God! Everything was real!” Ken practically shouted after going through the same tricks.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Mr. Barnes chuckled.

  “I’m sorry about my skepticism. Oh my God, it’s so true! I’m shocked to see there are so many things I don’t know,” Ken babbled excitedly.

  Jackie was fuming. “I feel so ignored! I can’t believe Ken Tillard doesn’t see me but he believes that fraud. What is the world coming to?” Shaking her head, she went on. “This séance thing is all fake, and Rick seems to know that. When are you guys going to stop this idiocy?”

  I had no choice but to discreetly shrug.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Mr. Tillard, I think you have a knack for contacting our friends on the other side,” Mr. Barnes said.

  “Wow! You think so?” Tillard beamed.

 
; “Right.” Mr. Barnes nodded, looking around the table. “Why don’t we use an Ouija board? That will help others here to grasp the spirit’s thoughts,”

  Then he stood up and took out a wooden board about the size of a placemat, with the alphabet written on it.

  “Seriously?” Jackie snorted.

  “I’m having a hard time figuring out what that guy is up to,” I whispered to Rick. “He doesn’t seem to be sensing Jackie at all, yet he insists on the presence of a spirit.”

  “That’s simple. He’s fake and everything’s staged,” Rick whispered back.

  “Still, both Karen’s and Ken’s fingers seemed to be moving against their will.”

  “Hello? Did you really go to medical school?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

  “You mean that psychic medium did something to meddle with their fingers?” I knitted my eyebrows, still unable to figure out how Mr. Barnes did that.

  “Of course. Hell, I’m tempted to go home.” He grimaced. “If it wasn’t an assignment, I’d already be leaving.”

  “It won’t last forever. Let’s stick around until it’s over, okay?” I touched his arm. I didn’t know what Karen was thinking, but I didn’t want to abandon her to cope with that phony psychic on her own.

  “Hmm, perhaps I should be thankful to witness Ken Tillard playing along with a fraud. I used to assume he was a better actor,” he mumbled.

  “Then again, Karen didn’t seem to be acting.” I frowned.

  “You may be right, but her reaction was caused by—”

  “Excuse me, but silence, please,” Mr. Barnes shushed us harshly. “Spirits are very sensitive. We need you to be quiet so as not to scare them away.”

  “Scaring the spirit away? Wow.” Rick snorted.

  Mr. Barnes’s face was serious. “Exactly. The spirit is visiting him in his body.” He indicated Ken, asking, “You feel the presence, right?”

  “Yes, I feel it. I feel so warm inside,” the actor responded excitedly.

  Rick laughed it off. “Seriously? That’s the stupidest remark I’ve heard this year.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re not alone. There are a bunch of poor souls like you who can’t believe anything you can’t see with your own eyes.” That time, it was Mr. Barnes’s turn to snort.