The Diviners (The Diviners #1)
Page 101“What was that?”
Evie looked him in the eyes. “She wished I’d been the one to die instead of James.”
Will broke the gaze. “Mothers love all their children equally.”
“No, they don’t. That’s just what we all agree to say.”
“And that was the first time?”
“Yes. I tested it. Whenever I concentrated on an object, I could sense some of its history. It isn’t always in order. Sometimes the pictures I see are faint; other times, they’re stronger. I think when the emotion is strong, I feel and see more.”
“Has it gotten stronger, would you say? Or weaker?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t practiced it like the castanets,” Evie said. “Can you practice it like the castanets?”
“Have you met anyone else who can do what you do?” Will asked, ignoring her question.
“If so, they haven’t announced themselves. Have you told your parents about this?”
“It was hard enough telling you after what happened in Ohio. They think it was one of my little pranks.”
“Good, good,” Will said.
“Why are you asking all these questions?”
“I’m trying to understand,” Will said.
No one had ever said anything like that to Evie. Her parents always wanted to advise or instruct or command. They were good people, but they needed the world to bend to them, to fit into their order of things. Evie had never really quite fit, and when she tried, she’d just pop back out, like a doll squeezed into a too-small box.
“So no one knows,” Will murmured.
“Well, I did show off a bit at that party Theta took me to,” Evie said uncertainly.
“It was nothing important! Just telling people what they’d had for dinner or the names of their dogs when they were kids. Most of the people there were fried.” Evie was careful not to mention her own drinking. “It was only in fun. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Isn’t that what got you in trouble in the first place?”
“But that was Ohio! This is New York City. If girls can dance half-naked in nightclubs, I don’t see why I can’t do a little divining.”
“People aren’t afraid of half-dressed girls in nightclubs.”
“You think people would be afraid of me, then?”
“People always fear what they don’t understand, Evangeline. History proves that. I suppose if people were drinking…” Will didn’t finish his thought. “And you say you had one of these… episodes with Ruta Badowski’s shoe buckle?”
Evie nodded. “I saw a terrible room and a large furnace and the outline of a man, I think. But it was only a silhouette, a shadow. I can’t be sure.” She shook her head. “Do you think what I saw was related to the murder?”
Will’s expression was grim. “I don’t know.”
“Certainly not.”
“But why not? If it would help…”
“Most likely they’d think you were some sort of crackpot. Or worse—a fame-seeker trying to get her name in the papers. Terrence and I have been friends for some time. I know how the police think.”
“But if I could read something else from the murders, something belonging to Tommy Duffy, for instance…”
“Absolutely not,” Will commanded. “I don’t think you should touch anything having to do with these murders.” Will sprang up from his chair and paced the length of the parlor. Midway, he stopped to tap his ash into a tall silver ashtray beside a navy-striped wingback chair that looked as if it had never been sat in. It was as if Will’s coiled energy didn’t allow him to sit long enough to make an impression on the cushion. “We are going to catch our killer with good old-fashioned detective work, even if we have to go through every occult book in the museum’s library.”
“So… I can stay?” Evie asked.
“Yes. You can stay. For now. But there will be new rules. There will be no further cavorting in speakeasies. And you will be expected to help out around the museum.”
“Of course.” It was better than a train back to Ohio. And once she proved to Will how indispensable she was, he’d have to keep her on for the long run. “Thank you, Unc.” Evie threw her arms around Will, who stiffened and waited for her to withdraw.