The Diviners

“The night of the party, I got into trouble for divining. I believe I may be a Diviner, Unc, like Liberty Anne Rathbone. And if I’m right, I could use my powers to help you solve this case.”

Will stared at her openmouthed, but Evie didn’t give him a chance to say anything just yet.

“Do you remember at the first murder scene, when I was ill?” Evie said, her words coming in a rush. “It wasn’t the sight of that girl, though it was gruesome. There was a buckle that had come loose from her shoe. I simply wanted to put it back, to make something… right. I must have been holding it very tightly—tighter than I meant to—and…” Evie let out a whoosh of breath. “I saw things. Just from holding something of hers.”

Will’s sympathy had hardened into a tight-lipped disgust. “I suspected this would be a ploy on your part to remain in New York, but I didn’t think you’d stoop so low as to capitalize on the murders of two innocent—”

“I’m trying to tell you something important!” Evie practically shouted, stunning him into silence. “Please. Just give me five minutes of your time. That’s all I ask.”

Will flipped open his pocket watch. “Very well. You have five minutes of my time, starting… now.”

This was it. If she couldn’t convince Uncle Will, she’d be on the first train back to Ohio. She needed to give him proof.

“It’ll be quicker if I just show you. Let me have something of yours—a handkerchief or hat. And don’t tell me anything about it.”

“Evie,” Uncle Will said with a sigh. Evie knew that sigh. It was often paired with her name and disappointment, and she had to fight the tears that wanted to come. Because why should he take her seriously? The party girl, the flapper with the ready quip and the closet full of rhinestones and embroidered stockings.

“Please, Unc,” she said softly. “Please.”

“Very well.” Uncle Will looked around before settling on a glove. “Here. You have exactly four and a half minutes left.”

Evie pressed the glove between her palms and concentrated. The tick-tick-tick of the second hand on Will’s watch was distracting. She tried to block it out and concentrate on the glove, but there was nothing, and the first cold fingers of panic seized her.

“Three minutes,” Will said.

Evie gritted her teeth. She didn’t understand how or why her object reading worked, only that it did—in its own way, and in its own time.

“Two and a half minutes remaining…”

Images unspooled slowly for Evie now. “These were in a bin at Woolworth’s, marked down to seventy-eight cents. It was cold that day and you’d lost one glove of the last pair. You’ve lost the right glove of this one, too. You keep taking it off and forgetting it.”

Evie opened her eyes. Will was still looking at his watch. “That could be a lucky guess. Or cleverness. Gloves at Woolworth’s at that price aren’t uncommon. You often observe me misplacing my right one. Not proof. One minute remaining.”

Evie was tired and desperate and more than a little angry. She closed her eyes again. This time, the scene was strong. She saw a laughing woman with dark hair and eyes, her hands encased in a fur muff. “ ‘That’s you all over, William. Always a glove short,’ ” Evie repeated after the woman.

“Stop,” Will said coldly, but Evie was truly there now. She could almost sense the wind. A much younger Will wobbled on ice skates while the pretty woman laughed. Evie smiled unconsciously.

“I can see her. She’s standing by an ice rink… in a dark green coat… in the snow….”

“Stop, Evie.”

“She’s very pretty and… and she’s happy… so very happy… it might be the happiest day of her li—”

Will yanked the glove from Evie’s hands hard, startling her. He loomed over her, red-cheeked and angry. “I said stop!” he thundered.

Evie turned and ran from the museum, ignoring Sam as he called out after her.

GOD IS DEAD

Evie walked the streets of the city until she was too tired to continue. In Central Park, she found a bench by the pond and sat to watch a rowboat with two couples in it. They laughed easily, enjoying the day’s sun. They seemed carefree and unbothered, and Evie hated them for it. She’d hoped Uncle Will of all people would understand. Evie wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Ordinarily, she’d go to Mabel for comfort. But that was out of the question, and Evie felt lost and alone.