The Prophet. Amanda Stevens

       “You went to see Darius, didn’t you? You asked him for gray dust.”

       Still, Devlin remained silent.

       “I waited on this very porch for hours to make sure you were okay. You came home the next day looking like a corpse. Almost as if—”

       “I’d just lost my daughter and my wife,” Devlin cut in. “How did you expect me to look?”

       “I didn’t expect what I saw. You weren’t just grieving, you were terrified. You couldn’t stop shaking. I’d never seen you like that. That’s why I gave you an alibi when the police came around asking questions about Robert Fremont’s murder.”

       “I never asked you to lie for me.”

       “I was afraid not to,” Ethan said. “You were barely able to drag yourself through that door, let alone handle a police interrogation.”

       “Interrogation? You make it sound like I was a suspect.”

       “You may well have been if they’d discovered your whereabouts that night. They already knew you and Robert had had a falling-out. Someone overheard the two of you arguing the day before he was shot.”

       Devlin’s voice had gone quiet again. “Careful where you take this, Ethan.”

       “I’m only taking it to its logical conclusion. If Robert knew that Darius had supplied you with gray dust, he could have made things very difficult for you in the police department. A cop found using that stuff…” His voice trailed off.

       “So you think I killed him.” It was statement, not a question.

       “No, of course not. But you do have a motive.”

       “And what about you?” Devlin asked, still in that same deadly quiet voice.

       “What about me?”

       “You told the police you were with me the whole night. You didn’t just give me an alibi. You gave yourself one, too.”

      “What?” Ethan sounded taken aback. “Why would I need an alibi?”

       “That’s what I’ve always wondered.”

       A dog barked from someone’s backyard, and I could hear the muffled roar of traffic over on Beaufain. But here in Devlin’s front yard, everything was silent, the air so thick with tension I could scarcely draw a breath.

       “You can’t really think I had anything to do with Robert Fremont’s death.” Ethan sounded more hurt than outraged. “What possible motive would I have had?”

       “Just forget it,” Devlin said. “We need to stay focused.”

       I heard Ethan expel a breath. “You’re right. We have to stick together. Even after all this time, there could still be questions about that night.”

       “I’ll take care of any questions. You just call me if you see Darius again,” Devlin said. “No matter the time.”

       Their voices faded as he walked with Ethan to the curb. A moment later, I heard a car door slam and the engine start up. I expected Devlin to go back inside, giving me a chance to slip away undetected, but instead, he sat down on the steps to finish his beer as he gazed out into the darkness.

       He sat with shoulders hunched, forearms to knees, as if the weight of the world rested on his back. I wanted to go to him, but how would I explain my sudden appearance? What excuse could I give him for lurking in the bushes and eavesdropping on a private conversation? A very disturbing conversation. I was still reeling from the revelations and innuendoes, all of which seemed to lead back to Robert Fremont. The stars have finally aligned.

       I also had a feeling the moment I showed myself, Mariama would materialize.

       At the mere thought of her, the air grew colder. I shivered in the chill and braced myself in dread.

       I must have made some involuntary movement because Devlin’s head whipped around, and I saw his hand slide inside his jacket where I suspected he still wore his shoulder holster.

       A cat darted out of a clump of bushes near the street and sprinted across the lawn to the house next door. Devlin’s hand fell away. Slowly, he rose and scoured the yard before he turned to go inside.

       As the door closed behind him, I started to emerge from my hiding place, but that terrible cold gripped me. I stood paralyzed as Shani’s ghost manifested at my side.

       Her hand was in mine, the frost of her existence chilling my whole being. She clung to me as she gazed out across the yard.

       I was horrified by the contact, and my first instinct was to jerk my hand away. Already I could feel my strength waning. But, ghost or no, she was Devlin’s daughter. I couldn’t turn her away.

       Her gaze lifted, and when she saw that she had my attention, she lifted a tiny hand and pointed to the cluster of bushes from which the cat had bolted. I almost expected to find Mariama’s ghost swooping down on me.

       Instead, I saw the gleam of human eyes in the darkness.

      Chapter Ten

      Someone was watching the house. Someone besides me.

       My first instinct was to call and warn Devlin, but even the slightest movement or sound would alert the watcher to my presence. I remained motionless, hardly daring to even breathe as I shivered in the chill emanating from Shani’s ghost.

       The night was very dark. I could pick out little more than a silhouette until the moon peeked from a cloud, and in the sudden illumination, I got a clear view of him. He was black and uncommonly tall, though the shadows surrounding him may have added to the illusion. His gaze seemed transfixed on Devlin’s house, and as I stood watching him, I heard the nightingale again. The trill was soft and mellow, like a dream. The man tilted his head to the sound, and I could have sworn I saw him smile.

       Then he turned back to the house and lifted his hand to his mouth. Uncurling his fingers, he blew something from his palm. The shimmering particles hung suspended for a moment before they fell one by one to the ground and disappeared, leaving nothing but the faint odor of sulfur.

       Throwing off the spell cast by those sparks, I cut my eyes back to the bushes. The man was gone. A moment later, I heard the thud of a car door down the street and the gentle hum of an engine. I waited until the vehicle was well away before I stirred. It was only then that I realized Shani had vanished, too.

       Crawling from my hiding place, I hovered indecisively. I wanted nothing more than to head straight home to the safety of my sanctuary. Forget about this night, forget about the ghosts, forget about the troublesome connections to Fremont’s murder that my eavesdropping had uncovered.

       But I couldn’t leave without warning Devlin, even if it meant giving myself away. For all I knew, he could be in terrible danger. His conversation with Ethan had certainly unsettled me. I didn’t know what to make of any of it, but I knew that as soon as I was alone, I would go back over every word, dissecting nuances and inflections as I tried to figure out where these new details fit into the puzzle.

       I hurried up the veranda steps, casting a wary glance over my shoulder. The wind had risen, rustling the palmettos, and already I could feel the aberrant cold seep from Devlin’s house. I didn’t want to go in there. Ghosts resided in that house. Not just Shani and Mariama, but entities from another realm, from beyond the Gray.

       Minutes went by before Devlin finally answered. When he drew open the door, my breath escaped in a painful swoosh. He must have already been getting ready for bed because his shirt hung open and his hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Or as if someone had.

       It hit me then that he might not be alone. That maybe Ethan and I had both interrupted his evening.

       “Amelia?” He rested a hand against the door frame. “What are you doing here?”