Page 55 of Savored Sins
H.
I.
It stops.
“Hey. Hi to you, too,” Zeke says, his grin bashful as he looks up at something near the coffee table. Question answered.
God, even in this half dark room he’s gorgeous. I need to focus. I heard Patrick—heard him loud and clear. And honestly,I agree. My fun little fling is over, and soon this pilot thing and my fashion show will be, too. Everything will go back to normal.
“Lena,” Zeke continues, drawling out the name in a way I know is meant to butter her up. “We found some stuff out about you. But we want to know more. We want to know how you… passed on. We know you went missing, but I’m going to ask this straight out—were you murdered?”
Silence.
Zeke shivers, and I see his shoulders twitch. If I had to guess, Lena’s running a hand along his upper back, caressing his neck.
He looks up at me. “She’s tracing letters on my back. She says yes.”
“Lena,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I understand you just spelled out ‘yes’ for Zeke. Can you use the spirit board to show the rest of us?”
There’s a pause, and for a second I’m afraid I might’ve pissed her off. The last thing I need is to upset the ghost so that she clams up and Zeke has to come back and filmagain—hey, I made a deal after all. But then the planchette jerks beneath my fingers and sails toward the YES spot on the board.
“Goddamn,” Zeke breathes. “Okay. Lena. Can you tell us what happened? Like,whokilled you? What went down?”
There’s another brief pause, but then the planchette starts moving again, and this time I swear I feel a cold sort of breeze sweep through me. I glance at Zeke, but he’s staring at the board, eyes fixed on what Lena’s spelling out.
“M,” he says aloud, as though to encourage her along. “A.”
I join in, and we both say the letters aloud:
N.
T.
E.
L.
“Mantel?” Zeke asks. “What the fuck’s a mantel?”
I stifle a snort for the sake of the cameras, hoping he can edit that part out. Then again—his mistake is kind of endearing. Zeke is always very much himself.
“Mantel,” I repeat correctly. “It’s above the fireplace—that shelf thing. Do you think there’s… something hidden there?”
Zeke’s already on his feet. “She’s leading me over there.”
“Well, follow her!”
He grabs my phone off the couch, turns on the flashlight, and strides across the living room to slide his fingers across the surface of the mantel. I really hope I dusted recently. Although Zeke probably won’t even notice.
“I don’t see—well, feel...” He trails off. All I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest and the sound of Zeke moving picture frames around on the mantel.
“It wouldn’t be anything to do with the stuffIput up there,” I say. “I definitely would’ve noticed something weird that didn’t belong to me. And, like, I’ve lived in this house for close to five years now—so if Lena means there’s something there, it’s got to be kind of obscured.”
Zeke doesn’t reply, just shines the beam of my phone flashlight across the contours of the brick wall. Shadows flicker across the living room.
“Well, I’ll be fucking damned,” he announces. “There’s a tiny-ass, little nook here, between the mantel and one of the bricks.”
That’s all it takes for me to jump up and see what the hell he’s talking about. “What?! What do you mean? I’ve decorated that mantel so many times, there’s no way I would’ve missed a damnnook.”
