“I’ll only be a moment,” she said.
They all watched as she ascended the stairs, and then she was gone, and then it was quiet.
Gertrude looked at Riddle and said, “Should we go up there with her?”
“Don’t worry about Ms. Jess. She’s a lot tougher than she appears. This won’t be the first spectre she’s helped.”
A heavy silence descended. All but Riddle seemed concerned, staring into their mugs, not daring to make a sound. Gertrude worried the fringe of this shirt, and Zorn flicked at his zipper.
“I love your house,” Riddle said. “Have you ever considered adding some plants here? Begonias fare particularly well in the spring.”
A door upstairs slammed shut. Ghostly moans, comedic and ululated, rattled the lampshades which, Gertrude noticed for the first time, were decorated with clinking
