‘That’s great,’ Ken exclaimed. ‘So things are better, huh?’
Stevie nodded, but his smile faded. ‘But the landlord came around again. He’s only giving us another week to get the rent money together.’
‘Well. maybe by then you’ll have the money,’ Ken said. He didn’t tell the boy about his plan to help the medium because he didn’t know if it would work, and Stevie had already had enough disappointments in his life.
Margaret and Cassandra returned, and to Ken’s surprise, Cassandra was holding a tray with glasses. Margaret carried a pitcher of red stuff.
‘This is homemade strawberry punch,’ Cassandra announced. ‘I have a good feeling about tonight — that it’s going to be special. So I thought we’d have a little pre-seance celebration.’
‘Shouldn’t we have the celebration after the seance?’ Ken asked. ‘I mean, if it’s successful?’
‘One has to establish the ambience for success,’ Cassandra declared as she set the tray down. ‘Success is more likely to come when the appropriate feelings are in the air.’
Her reference to ‘feelings’ bothered Ken. He looked at the punch suspiciously. ‘Is there alcohol in this?’
Cassandra let out a tinkling laugh. ‘Of course not, Ken. I would never serve an alcoholic beverage to young people. I don’t even drink alcohol myself — mediums rarely do. We are afraid it could dull our senses and make us less accessible to the spirits.’
He felt foolish for having asked. He should have known Cassandra would be the responsible type.
‘Margaret, will you pour?’ Cassandra asked.
Margaret picked up the pitcher and turned her back to the others to face the coffee table. Ken approached her.
‘Can I help?’ he offered.
‘No!’ Cassandra answered for her. ‘Margaret can do it herself. Aaah!’
Surprised by the strong reaction, Ken turned to Cassandra. But she wasn’t protesting his offer of assistance. The scarves that covered her face were coming off. And they weren’t just falling — it was as if invisible hands were ripping them from her.
Invisible hands. that could only mean one thing. One person. ‘Tracey!’ Ken yelled in outrage. She must have followed him! But in an instant his fury turned to something else. Something more closely related to utter shock.
The medium’s face had been exposed, and he recognized her.
‘You!’ he cried out.
At that very moment there was pounding on the door. ‘Go away!’ Serena Hancock shouted.
‘Police! Open this door immediately or we’ll break it down!’
‘Good heavens!’ Dahlia exclaimed. ‘Isn’t this exciting?’ She went to the door and opened it. Two uniformed police officers strode in. Ken gaped, and his mouth dropped even further when, just behind the policemen, Emily and Jenna entered. And then Tracey was there too.
Emily pointed at the student teacher/medium. ‘That’s her! That’s the woman who threatened me two months ago at Meadowbrook!’
‘She’s crazy!’ Serena screamed.
‘I recognize her too,’ Jenna declared.
‘So do I,’ Tracey cried out.
‘So do I,’ Ken echoed in a whisper. He was still in a state of shock. But somehow he managed to blurt out, ‘I think there’s a scam going on here.’
One of the police officers produced a pair of handcuffs. Ashe was locking Serena’s hands together behind her back, the woman yelled, ‘I’m not going down alone for this.’ She jerked her head at Margaret. ‘She’s in on it too! Margaret Robinson!’
‘That’s not true!’ Margaret declared hotly as the other officer began to cuff her. ‘I’m not even Margaret!’
But the police weren’t giving either of them the opportunity to protest further. The two women were hustled out the door, leaving behind three stunned seekers of guidance from the spirit world — and three girls with expressions that were just a little bit smug.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AMANDA WASN’T SURE IF she was frightened or furious or some combination of the two. Sitting on a bench, her back pressed against the wall, she tried in vain to calm down. This just wasn’t happening.
She was in jail. Amanda Beeson, the queen bee of Meadowbrook Middle School, was behind bars. OK, it wasn’t Amanda Beeson’s body in the holding cell, but it was Amanda Beeson who felt imprisoned.
She wasn’t alone. Serena was there too, pacing the floor, muttering to herself. And there were four other women, none of whom looked very nice. They weren’t pacing or shaking or acting nervous though. In fact they all looked like they’d been in prison before. One of them was even sleeping!
Serena-Cassandra glared at her. ‘Stop crying!’ she snapped.
Amanda hadn’t even realized there were tears running down Margaret’s face. She certainly had every right to cry. She didn’t deserve to be here! She’d even tried to stop Serena’s evil scheme from succeeding. The prescription Serena had given her. Amanda had had it filled at a pharmacy, but only so she could see what the pills looked like. Back at Margaret’s place, she’d emptied the pills into the sink and replaced them with similar-looking little white mints that wouldn’t do anyone any harm. While Serena would think Margaret was dropping a sleeping pill into the glass meant for Stevie, he would simply receive a glass of punch with a little mint flavouring. He wouldn’t fall asleep. Ken would tell him where the lottery ticket was, Amanda would reveal herself and expose the scheme, and she’d be a hero!
But instead she was one of the villains. A common criminal. Was this the kind of person Margaret was? She wondered if Margaret had ever been in jail before. Maybe Amanda should be acting a little more nonchalant about all this. But what did it matter now? She actually wanted the guards to know she wasn’t Margaret!
Unfortunately, she really didn’t know how she was going to convince them of that. Had anyone ever used bodysnatching as an excuse to be released from a prison? She seriously doubted it. No one would believe her.
There was only one way out of this mess. She had to get out of Margaret’s body and back into her own, which at that very moment was probably lying in her nice, soft bed being waited on and coddled by her mother.
She took some deep breaths and tried to think rationally. How had she got out of bodies before? Falling, hitting her head — it was usually something like that. When she had been invisible-Tracey, an accidental kick in the head had sent her back into herself. During the bank robbery, when she was Sarah, a slip on the floor did the trick.
Tentatively, she leaned back and tapped her head against the wall. Nothing happened. Her head didn’t even hurt. She forced herself to bang her head a little harder.
One of the other prisoners, a hard-looking woman with bright red hair, stared at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Nothing,’ Amanda said quickly.
The woman sniggered. ‘It’s not going to work, you know.’
‘What?’
‘Hurting yourself to get out of here. You’d have to spill some serious blood. And even then you’d only end up in the clinic here. You’d still be behind bars.’
Amanda remembered another kind of shock that had worked in the past.
She thought back to when she occupied Ken’s body. During that time, she formed a — a relationship with a dead boy named Rick. When Rick had said he wouldn’t contact her any more, she’d been really upset. That strong feeling had pushed her out of Ken and back into herself.
But here she was in jail. Wasn’t that shocking enough to get her out of Margaret? Apparently not.