"Excuse me," she said, laying her needlework aside.
She headed into the foyer and up the stairs. I tried not to think about what was happening up there, but when I heard Abby's body hit the floor, I couldn't suppress a wince.
A few moments later, the scene with the locked front door replayed itself.
Lizzie and Andrew came into the parlor. Andrew took over the sofa, sprawling out and closing his eyes. Lizzie went into the dining room and set up an ironing board. The maid, Bridget, came in to begin cleaning.
"Are you going out today?" Lizzie asked her.
"I don't know. I'm not feeling very well."
"If you do leave, be sure to lock the front door behind you. Mrs. Borden has gone out on a sick call, and I might go out later as well."
Lizzie turned her attention to ironing handkerchiefs. As she worked, I stood beside her, Kristof staying across the room, listening but staying out of the conversation. Lizzie knew he was there, but had yet to say a word to him or even glance his way.
We returned to the subject of the Nix, and I asked Lizzie whether she ever sensed her or saw images of her.
"I see her… what she's done. Sometimes it stops for a while, but when it starts again-" Her hands quivered. "When it starts again, there are always more."
More killings. The images stopped while the Nix was in the world of the living, then she returned bearing fresh nightmares for her dead partners.
I asked Lizzie what she'd seen recently, whether she had any idea where the Nix was or where she was headed.
"She seeks a teacher," Lizzie said. "A man named Luther Ross."
My head jerked up. "Luther Ross?"
"You know him?" Kris whispered.
I glanced over at him. "Heard of him. A poltergeist teacher."
Kristof snorted. "Another charlatan."
"No, Ross is actually…" I motioned that I'd explain later and turned back to Lizzie. "What does she want with this teacher?"
"I don't know. I never know. I only see."
Lizzie glanced over at Bridget, who was almost finished cleaning the dining room curtains.
"There's a sale on at Sargent's today," Lizzie said. "Dress material at eight cents a yard."
"Oh," Bridget said, smiling. "Then I will indeed be going out. I'm done here. May I leave now?"
"Certainly."
When Bridget was gone, Lizzie peeked into the living room, where her father had drifted off to sleep.
"Excuse me," she murmured.
While she went to get the hatchet, Kristof and I decided we'd learned all we could from Lizzie Borden, and transported ourselves out before the gore started to fly… again.
Chapter 20
I LANDED IN A POOL OF WATER.
"Your aim, my dear, is excellent," Kristof said.
He was submerged up to his armpits in muddy water. He looked over at me, the water barely reaching my knees. As he opened his mouth, something jumped from the water, splashing a sheet of brown ooze over his face and into his mouth. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.
"Sorry," I said as he spit the water out. "I told you I only have one travel code for Honduras."
He spit again, then swim-walked over to me. As he drew close, he gave a wet-dog shake, water spraying in all directions, including mine. I yelped, stumbled back, and fell flat on my ass, with a splash that drenched any part that hadn't fallen under the waterline. He grinned and held out a hand to help me up. I took it, and yanked him down beside me.
He rolled onto his side. His gaze traveled across my wet clothing, and his lips parted.
I cut him off. "If that sentence contains the words 'mud wrestling,' I'd strongly suggest you reconsider them."
"I wasn't going to say anything about mud wrestling. Now, mud bathing, that's a whole other matter. Plenty of people pay good money to do this." He lifted a handful of mud and squeezed it through his fingers. "It would be… interesting, don't you think? A new sensation. You always love a new sensation."
"So you're suggesting this for my benefit?"
"Of course. I won't touch you. Won't even try. I'll just watch." A quick grin. "That'll be enough."
I pushed to my feet.
"God, you're sexy when you're flustered," he said.
"Please. It would take more than you to fluster me, Kristof Nast."
"Oh?" He swung to his feet and sidestepped into my path. "Then, if you don't want to try a mud bath, you won't mind waiting while I do."
He unbuttoned the top of his shirt.
"You take that off, and I'm leaving," I said.
He grinned. "Flustered?"
"Exasperated. And too busy for games."
"Oh, you can spare a minute or two. You wait right here, watch me, and I'll be done before you know it." The grin broadened. "You know how much I liked it when you watched."
I turned fast, and slid in the mud. An overhanging vine slapped my face. With a muttered oath, I shoved the vine out of my way and stomped toward the shore.
"Flustered," Kris called after me.
As I turned to answer, something splashed beside me. On the bank lay a huge alligator.
"Enjoying the show?" I asked.
He blinked and gave a lazy flick of his tail. A mini-tidal wave of mud splattered over me. Kristof laughed. I glowered at the beast. He yawned, showing off teeth as big as bowie knives, and twice as sharp.
"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Very impressive. And I'd be even more impressed if you could use them, ghost-gator."
Once on the bank, I gave my head a shake. Mud flew everywhere, but when I stopped, every strand of hair fell into place-shiny, clean, and brushed. Gotta love the afterlife. I closed my eyes and murmured an incantation. When I opened them, I was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt. The alligator harrumphed. I flipped him the finger and started walking, leaving Kristof to catch up.
Luther Ross lived on the island of Roatan, just north of Honduras. Even in the ghost world, this is well off the beaten path, which is why someone like Ross would choose to live here. The ghost world, like any other, has its laws. Poltergeist activity breaks most of them.
A poltergeist reaches into the living world and manipulates objects. Fortunately for the Fates, it's not a major problem because few ghosts can do it. Most so-called poltergeist activity isn't ghosts at all-it's earth tremors and faulty construction and bad wiring and bored teens.
The few true poltergeist ghosts find their services in high demand as teachers. When something is rare, it's always cool to be one of the few who can do it. There's only one problem. Most poltergeists haven't learned their power at all; they're born with it.
Almost all poltergeists are really telekinetic half-demons. Something about the power of telekinesis allows it to transcend dimensions, so after death, some find that they can continue to mentally will objects to move in both the ghost world and the living world. Yet they can't pass on this power to a nontelekinetic any more than I can teach a binding spell to a non-spell-caster.
That doesn't keep telekinetic half-demons from selling their "services" on the black market. To disguise the true source of their powers, they pose as druidic or Vodoun priests, or other supernaturals with minor, easily faked abilities. They'll pretend to teach a student, all the while manipulating the objects themselves.
Luther Ross was different. When I first heard of him a year ago, I also heard that he was half-demon and dismissed him as someone too stupid to even hide the source of his powers. Then, a few weeks ago, I discovered that he was a Gelo, an ice demon, not a telekinetic. It's damned near impossible to fake the powers of a Gelo. So it would appear Luther Ross might be the real deal, someone who truly had learned how to move objects in the living-world dimension.