We chatted for a while longer, swapping stories.
As for the interview, she might still do a story, but that would come later. True News came out weekly, meaning it wasn't a timely way to get the group's attention. But if Zack's interview and the other media bits didn't lure them out, Hope's article would run next week, with more damning details that would definitely spark their interest.
AFTERWARD, I gave some sound bites to the biggest TV news crews--just enough to ensure they knew whose vibes had led to the body--then slipped away in search of peace and Jeremy. As I passed the living room, I heard someone being pelted with questions. Those crews who hadn't been lucky enough to get an interview with Grady or me had tracked down a substitute.
"Um, yes," Angelique was saying. "I have picked up some, uh, feelings in the yard."
"You mean the gar
den, don't you?" someone said.
"Have you heard voices?" another voice asked. "Or seen anything?"
Angelique stumbled through an answer. The kid was just too young to give a full improv performance. She'd been kept out of the loop on all this, and now microphones were being shoved in her face. As much as I wanted to find Jeremy, I felt guilty.
"Hey, guys," I said as I walked into the living room. "Are you boys pouncing on this poor girl? We just found a body in the garden. She's a wee bit shaken up, aren't you, hon?"
I put my arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. Angelique shot me a grateful look.
"I've never seen a dead body before," she said, her honeyed southern accent pitch-perfect again. She shivered. "I only hope that poor child has gone to a better place. She'll be in my prayers--"
"Jaime," a hook-nosed man cut in, motioning for his cameraman to swing the camera to focus on me. "You led Bradford Grady to that body. What did you sense?"
I tugged Angelique on camera with me. "We've all sensed things in this house, for days now--"
"But you helped discover the body. What was your experience?"
I kept trying to steer the questions back to include Angelique, but they were having none of it, and it soon became apparent that I was only hogging any camera time she might have received. So I made my excuses and fled.
I found Jeremy in the kitchen, where he'd cornered Becky. Being Jeremy, he didn't make it obvious--none of that werewolf posturing. Instead, he'd taken a spot a few feet away, out of her personal space, as she fixed a coffee. To leave, though, she'd need to shoulder past him.
"I presume you don't expect Jaime out of the house by tonight," he was saying. "Under the circumstances, packing has been the last thing on her mind. And, in speaking to the officers outside, they made it clear they'd prefer everyone to stay where they are."
"We haven't made any decisions yet."
"No? Perhaps the staff is receiving inaccurate information, then. They've apparently been told they're staying on for another day or two."
"They are, but the actors--"
"You told Jaime she had to be out tonight because the staff wouldn't be here. If they're staying on, I see no reason to hurry her departure, particularly under the circumstances. I'll tell her we're here for the night."
He turned to go.
"We?" Becky said.
"Jaime has just discovered a murder victim. I'm concerned for her safety, so I will be spending the night. I believe there's a pullout sofa in the living room. That will suit me fine."
He walked out before she could answer. I followed him.
WE WATCHED the six o'clock news with Grady, Claudia and the guards. Even the cleaning woman joined us after hearing the commotion. It took me awhile to realize Angelique wasn't there but, after seeing her fumbling on screen, I decided maybe it was better if I didn't drag her in to join the party.
And a party it was. A victory celebration. We were splashed all over the news, Grady and I both finding opportunities to plug the Death of Innocence special and dropping teasers about the material we'd taped so far.
As for the discovery of the crime, it played out just the way we'd spun it. Yes, Grady had found the body. Yes, he claimed to have sensed the "poor child" calling to him. But in every newscast, it was clear that I'd been the one to lead him there, based on my own experiences in the house--experiences I was less eager to share. When the group heard the story, the person they'd think who was most likely to know more than she was saying--perhaps something that could expose them--would be me.
As I watched myself on television, imagining the group watching too, I had to admit that I hadn't really thought it all through. Finding the corpse would, we hoped, draw out the killers. Being of a scientific bent, they'd leave nothing to chance, so they'd get closer, maybe even try to beat the police to other bodies in the gardens.
I'd already hinted I knew more. Having unlocked magical secrets themselves, they'd know it wasn't impossible that I did know more, that my ability to communicate with the dead wasn't a put-on. They'd want to know how much more I knew.