Magic in the Night by H. P. Mallory

Author:H. P. Mallory [Mallory, H. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2021-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The woman ignored my question.

“Is that the word they use now? Sensitive? When I was a girl, we called it ‘ESP’ and ‘parapsychology’ and a lot of other scientific-sounding jargon.” She said as she shrugged. “Words change but the basic ideas remain the same.”

“How do you know Peyton’s name?” Ryan demanded.

“I suppose it’s past time for introductions, isn’t it?” the strange woman said.

“Yes,” I answered immediately. “I’d like to know who you are and how you know who I am.”

She bowed slightly, her hair falling into her face. “My name is Angharad Llewelyn and I’ve only recently arrived to New Orleans.”

The name “Angharad Llewelyn” sounded like she made it up on the spot.

“What brings you to New Orleans?” asked Ryan as he eyed her with the same level of suspicion as I.

“You’re smart people,” Angharad said, looking completely irritated at both of us. “I assume you’ve noticed the recent increase in spiritualist activity here in the Bayou?”

Ryan and I looked at each other and frowned. It was fairly obvious that neither of us noticed anything out of the ordinary in New Orleans lately. Angharad appeared even more out of sorts.

“There is, at this moment, something running loose in the French Quarter over by Pirates Alley,” she said in an increasingly irritated tone.

“Something?” I repeated as my eyes went wide and Ryan studied Angharad.

Angharad nodded. “In the next hour there will be an attack on the museum.” Then she sighed dramatically. “Of course, after that comment, both of you will naturally suspect me, at first.”

“Well, if you know about the attack ahead of time,” said Ryan, “doesn’t that automatically make you the prime suspect?”

Angharad ignored him. “I’ve visited the museum on this exact morning at least six times now, and I still can’t figure out who is behind the robbery. I’ve watched Pebbles steal the sword repeatedly and each time I hope for a clue as to who put him up to it, I get nothing. Whoever is behind the robbery clearly doesn’t want it being traced back to her.”

“Her?” I asked.

Angharad nodded. “I feel female energy surrounding the robbery. And if you must know, I’m wondering if the woman in that room might have had something to do with it.” Then she pointed at the woman who was mourning the body in the casket.

“The mourning woman?” Ryan asked, just to be sure I guessed.

“Yes, that one.”

“Why would you assume she has anything to do with the robbery?” I asked.

Angharad shrugged. “Whenever I enter the room to question her, she won’t talk to me and she asks me to leave, which only makes me more suspicious.”

“Or maybe she just wants to mourn her family member in peace, and you keep interrupting her?” I suggested.

“It’s a convenient cover,” said Angharad. “Anyway, having examined every second of what goes on in this museum in the next hour, I’m convinced the robbery involves a case I’ve been investigating—about a boy named Pebbles Ross. He disappeared about a decade ago during Katrina.”

“A lot of people disappeared during Katrina,” Ryan answered.

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