Vickie had no reason to answer me since she'd much rather kill me, but if I could spin this in a way that made it look like all we wanted was to find justice for her, then maybe. And we did want to, as well as a host of other things.
"We want to know if you were murdered and by who, Vickie." My voice came out strong and confident, much more than I felt. "We want to help."
Nothing happened for a moment, and then a gust of wind extinguished some of the candles. The air smelled like lemons. It had to be her, but I needed to make sure.
"Vickie, if it's really you, we'll need you to prove it," I said. "I'm going to ask you a question that only you'll know the answer to. If you spell it out for us with our talking board, we'll know if it's really you or not. What does it say underneath your d
