Calla didn't feel Mom's presence, though.

Not the way she's felt other spirits. Kaitlyn Riggs, for instance- the girl who was kidnapped and murdered. Or her schoolmate Donald Reamer's dead father. Or Aiyana . . .

Those were all visitations.

She's been waiting for one from her mother.

But this was more like . . . looking at an old snapshot.

An odd snapshot, really, because the book in Mom's hands was meant for a much younger reader. Not that it matters.

"Mom, can you hear me? I need to see you. Really see you. The way I knew you. I need to feel you here. I need you to come to me, please. I need to know what happened."

I need . . . I need . . . I need . . .

Calla sinks onto the bed and buries her face in her hands, frustrated.

She needs answers.

Why is it that finding out who killed her mother only opened the door to more questions?

Like . . . what happened to her mother's other child?

There are only three options, really. Either Mom and Darrin gave the baby up for adoption, or Darrin raised it himself, or . . .

It died.

She glances at the laptop.

There's a chance she could log in right now and find out that she has a brother or sister living in Boston or something.

Are you ready for that, though?

Calla hesitates.

Not yet.

Not right this minute, anyway.

First things first.

With a trembling hand, she dials Jacy's phone number.

FOUR.

Lily Dale

Monday, October 8

3:33 p.m.

"I really can't stick around for very long,"Calla informs her grandmother and father as the three of them walk out the door and down the front steps beneath an ominous sky. "I've got to study, and then I'm meeting Jacy for a little while."

When she called him earlier, he was headed out the door with his foster dads and couldn't talk.

"Are they right there with you?"she asked. "Because I can talk, and you can listen. There's some stuff I want to tell you."

"Tell me in person. I'll come over when I get back."

"How about if we just meet down by the lake at five o'clock or so?"she suggested instead.

She isn't exactly eager for Jacy to come face- to-face with Gammy and Dad now that they know about his part in her lie.

"Make it five fifteen,"Jacy told her, and she reluctantly agreed, wondering how she's going to last that long without telling someone the whole shocking story and asking for advice.

"Listen, I know you've got a life here, and you're busy with your friends and schoolwork-hopefully not in that order,"Dad says, patting her shoulder as they cross the yard toward the Taggarts' porch. "I just wanted you to come over and see where I'll be staying, that's all."

Calla bites her tongue to keep from saying that she's seen the Taggarts' guest room plenty of times, and even spent the night in it a few weeks ago when she and Evangeline had a sleepover.

Brat, she scolds herself. What you really want to tell him is that you belong here . . . he doesn't.

Yeah, but only because you know he's going to freak and want to leave when he finds out what really goes on in this town.

Which is bound to happen any second now, when Dad notices . . .

Wait a minute.

The shingle that ordinarily hangs beside Ramona's door- the one that reads RAMONA TAGGART, REGISTERED MEDIUM- seems to be missing.

Calla raises an eyebrow at her grandmother and gestures with her head at the empty bracket overhead.

"I asked her to take it down for a few days."Gammy's whisper is m.u.f.fled by a rumble of thunder in the west. "Just until your father gets settled in."

Calla-who was grateful when her grandmother did the same thing with ODELIA LAUDER, REGISTERED MEDIUM whenever Dad came to visit- now wonders uneasily whether it's a good idea to deliberately keep him in the dark.

If he's going to freak out and leave, it's better to just get it over with, isn't it?

Maybe we should all just come out and tell him. About Gammy, and Ramona, and . . . me.

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo! Come on in before it rains!"Ramona calls out, and Calla looks up to see that she's waiting in the open doorway, beckoning them.

Well, she is psychic. She was probably aware they were on their way the very second they finished washing the lunch dishes and headed for the door.

Or maybe she's been eagerly watching for them since Gammy called her a good half hour ago to say that Dad had accepted her invitation to stay here.

That's more what it seems like, really.

Ramona, wearing one of her gypsy- style dresses, is all but bouncing with excitement as she holds the door open for them, chattering a mile a minute.

"Welcome back, Calla! And I'm so glad to see you again, Jeff. What happened in Florida? Odelia said something about a problem down there, but-you'll have to fill me in. Come in, ignore the mess, come right up the stairs,"she says, leading the way up the narrow flight with the three of them trooping behind her. "Watch your head at the landing, there, Jeff. Like I told Odelia, it's not the Ritz, but it's a place to sleep and, hey, it's free."

"No, please, you have to let me pay you. If I were staying at a hotel, I'd be paying."

"True, but at a hotel, you'd have maid service. Have you looked around? There's no maid here,"Ramona says wryly. "No ice machine, no room ser vice, no pool . . ."

"Darn,"Dad says. "How about nightly turndown ser vice with a towel swan and chocolate on the pillow?"

"Hmm . . . maybe that could be arranged."

They're flirting. It's so weird. Calla turns to glance at her grandmother to see if she's noticed. Yup. There's a thoughtful expression on Odelia's face and a gleam in her eye.

They pa.s.s the open doorway to Evangeline's room, then her brother's. "Company, Mason,"Ramona calls to her nephew, who's sprawled on his bed with a handheld computer game.

Looking at Mason is like looking at Evangeline-rather, looking at her if she wore owlish gla.s.ses, had frizzy, close-cropped red hair, and was perpetually fixated on a book or a screen of some sort.

"Say h.e.l.lo, Mason."

"h.e.l.lo."His hazel eyes never leave the game.

"Remember Calla's dad, Jeff? He's going to be staying in the guest room for a while."

"Uh-huh."

Ramona sighs. "He's normally much more communicative."

He is? Calla's never witnessed it, but who knows? Maybe Mason turns into a real live wire when she's not around.

"I'll see you later, huh, Mason?"Dad says.

Mason-who lost both his parents before he was old enough to remember them- actually looks up. "Sure. See you later."

Watching the two exchange a brief smile before Ramona leads the group down the hall again, Calla can't help but feel a tiny flicker of jealousy.

It suddenly occurs to her that Mason-and Evangeline, too- will be sharing a house with her father now. And that she herself won't be.

She had thought it would be a good thing to keep him at arm's length, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe she's missed him too much for that.

"This is it,"Ramona announces, and opens the door to the guest room with a jangle of bracelets.

There's a bed, dresser, and small bedside table that holds a fan of magazines and a vase of purple asters obviously cut from the clump growing beside the Taggarts' front porch.

"This is charming,"Dad declares, and turns to Calla. "What do you think?"

"Charming,"she agrees.

"And the best part of all is that your dad will be right next door,"Ramona drapes an arm around Calla's shoulders and squeezes her. "I know how much you two have missed each other."

"We have. Thanks, Ra-"Calla breaks off, stunned to see one of the magazines flying off the bedside table. It seems to hover in midair before landing on the floor at her feet.

Her father, with his back to the table, didn't see what happened, but Odelia and Ramona did. They exchange a nervous glance.

"I must have b.u.mped into this. I'm such a klutz. Oh well, my secret is out,"Ramona says lightly, reaching for the magazine.

Her secret is out?

Calla braces herself, thinking she's about to reveal her supernatural abilities.

Her grandmother obviously thinks the same thing because she shoots Ramona a look of dismay.

"What secret is that?"Dad asks with interest.

"That I'm the ultimate pack rat. I never throw anything away. See?"

Calla all but sighs in relief as Ramona holds up the magazine's cover. On it is a photograph of a smiling, familiar woman and the headline AN INTERVIEW WITH NEW FIRST LADY LAURA BUSH.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with outdated reading material,"comments Odelia, whose cluttered coffee table brings to mind a dentist's waiting room. "Right, Calla?"

"Right,"she murmurs, and looks around the room for a wanton spirit who might be responsible for the mishap.

She can't see anything, but that doesn't mean there's no one around.

"I'm a pack rat, too,"Dad comments. "It used to drive my wife crazy."

There's a moment of awkward silence.

"It didn't bother Mom all that much, Dad,"Calla feels obligated to say. "As long as you kept your mess out of her way."

"Stephanie liked things to be or ga nized,"Gammy explains to Ramona.