Widow's Tears by Susan Wittig Albert Page B

I’m nuts. Tell me that this house really is haunted—that there’s a ghost here, and that I’m not imagining all this crazy stuff.”
    Ruby’s energy shield came up and the shimmering faded. She took a deep breath. “No, of course I don’t. I believe you, Claire. In fact, I saw her myself, just this morning.”
    â€œYou
did
?” Claire cried. “Oh, Ruby, that’s
wonderful
!”
    â€œWell, I don’t know about that,” Ruby said cautiously, and told Claire about stopping on the hill and looking down at the house and seeing the woman in the shirtwaist and skirt, carrying the basket of white roses.
    â€œAnd then Sam showed up,” she concluded, “and when I looked back, the woman was gone.”
    There was a crooked man
    Ruby frowned. Why couldn’t she get that silly nursery rhyme out of her mind? It kept repeating itself like a broken record.
    â€œGood old Sam,” Claire’s laugh was brittle. “He seems to appear at just the right time, doesn’t he? Or the wrong time, depending on how you look at it.”
    found a crooked sixpence
    Claire looked at Ruby, half-tilting her head. “But I’m really glad you saw her—again, I mean. This morning. It means you didn’t imagine her the first time. And I didn’t imagine her, either.”
    Ruby tried to laugh. “But maybe we’re both imagining it, Claire, then and now. You know—the power of suggestion.”
    Claire shook her head. “I know what I saw. And what you saw. And what I’ve heard.” She leaned forward, her voice becoming quietly insistent.“I hope I haven’t scared you, Ruby. I don’t want to chase you away. I need you. Say you’ll stay and help me. Please.
Please.
”
    Ruby thought of her suitcase, still in the car, her car keys in her purse, little Grace with a sore throat, the shop and the tearoom that Ramona wanted to buy, and her other obligations. She pressed her lips together. She understood Claire’s need, and she was sorry that all this was happening. But she was in way over her head here, and she was…she was scared. She had no business trying to deal with this situation. She should just go home. She glanced at her watch. If she left now, she’d be back at the shop before closing time.
    She was opening her mouth to explain to Claire why she had to leave when the cell phone in her bag began to buzz. Then it swung into the first few bars of the old Buddy Holly song, “Raining in My Heart,” Colin’s favorite. He had downloaded it to her phone and she’d never changed it.
    â€œHey,” she said, picking up her purse and fishing around for her cell. “I thought you said we couldn’t get a signal here.”
    â€œSometimes the magic works,” Claire said with a shrug. “If it’s a text, you might get it.”
    Ruby found her phone and flipped it open. That’s what it was, all right. A text message. From China.
    â€œOh no!” she muttered, reading it, then reading it again. “Oh
no
!”
    Claire frowned. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œJust about everything,” Ruby replied distractedly, and read the message for the third time.
    Ramona says Doris escaped. Hark says watch for TS Amanda. Amy says Grace needs tonsils out. Tonight. But we can handle. Stay where you are. Don’t come home.

Chapter Five
    The genus name
Iris
is derived from the Greek word for rainbow, referring to the wide variety of flower colors. In Greek mythology, Iris was the messenger of the gods and is usually depicted as descending from her home in the rainbow.
    The rhizomes of three species of iris (
I. germanica
,
I. florentina
, and
I. pallida
) are known as orris and are prized in perfumery for their violet scent and their ability to fix other scents. The Egyptians and Greeks used orris to treat chest complaints. Pieces of the root were strung and worn around the neck as