Death Warmed Over by Patti Larsen

Author:Patti Larsen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patti Larsen Books

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Chapter Thirteen

I looked up to find Lyle had joined us, the elderly but still handsome lawyer’s head bowed, shoulders rounded inside his dark gray suit. He ran one big hand through his silver hair, his own eyes brimming while Charlotte’s insistent nodding agreed with him even if she struggled to speak.

“How can that be?” Dear Goddess, I needed acting lessons if I was going to partake in this kind of thing very often, but neither of them seemed to notice I was a faker and a fraud who already had more details than they likely knew.

“We don’t know,” Charlotte finally said, Lyle sighing. “Phoebe, have you met Lyle yet?” Of course, she’d introduced me to him the first time, but I nodded to him anyway. “He and Father were the best of friends, ever since college. Isn’t that right, Lyle?”

The lawyer cleared his throat, both hands now tucked deep in his pockets. “Archie was the best friend I ever had.”

Tragic to lose him twice.

“Charlotte, my dear,” Lyle said then, the argument they’d had yesterday obviously forgotten and forgiven in light of what happened, “we really do need to conclude our business.”

She fluttered that handkerchief at him but nodded, squeezing my poorly abused hand one more time before rising. “Phoebe, I’ll be right back.” And left me there, hurrying out while Lyle followed more slowly, pausing at the door to look back.

“I didn’t know you had an appointment with Charlotte today,” he said. And there it was, the challenge I’d been expecting. But, instead of the negative reaction I’d foreseen, Lyle instead smiled faintly at me, his eyes haunted. “She’s in need of a friend right now. Thank you for being here.” He strode out then, leaving me to sigh free the tension he’d caused, unknowing.

Before rising in a rush and hurrying to the door, peeking out into the foyer. Margaret had retreated, the way to Charlotte’s office closed. Leaving me free to step out into the entry to the house and inhale slowly, drawing to me the power I commanded—okay, asked for help while it considered its mood and options—and exhaled a whispered thread of magic.

While I might not have been a wonderworker? The bits and bobs I’d been given from each of the past, present and future powers my family bore could be useful if applied carefully. I didn’t need a corpse or even a person if I knew what I was seeking. Often the surroundings of traumatic events captured the emotions of such moments, like the old-fashioned negatives from film cameras. That meant, standing here in this house, in Archibald’s house, I should be able to catch a peek into the death of Charlotte’s father.

The first time, that was. Except, when I asked for that moment from the memories embedded in the stone and wood and glass surrounding me, there was nothing of his original death embedded anywhere in this place. I tried again, got nothing. Pushed harder, expended more magic, layered on the command. Still zilch. Which

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