September 5, Thursday

THE KNOCK on the door came precisely at two PM, just as we'd arranged. I opened it to find Edra Waco standing on the porch, her white hair wild as ever, her flowing clothes a riot of mismatched patterns. She clutched Wayne's manuscript to her chest as if it were an object of great value.

"Hello, Josephine."

"You didn't have to make the trip, Edra. We could've talked over the phone."

"Actually, I've always wanted to see the inside of The Whisper House," she said, stepping in to glance all around. Sheets still covered most of the furniture, giving it a haunted vibe. "Ooh… nice and creepy."

"Can I get you some tea?"

She waved a hand, bangles jangling. "No need for hospitality, dear. I'm here on business, after all."

I led her into the living room. She waved away my offer to uncover a chair, apparently happy to preserve the ambiance. Edra's eyes roamed the room, taking in every detail.

"So," I began, "what did you think of Wayne's book?"

"Quite the tale, and not badly written, I thought."

"But how true is it?"

"Very. The feud between the Whispers and Bensons, the witchcraft, the star-crossed lovers, all based in fact, with a healthy dose of dramatic license, of course."

I leaned forward, intrigued. "What about the rumored illegitimate Whisper descendant?"

A sly smile spread across Edra's face. "Ah, now that's one of the juicier bits. I've heard those rumors, too, although I don't know if they're true. And I suspect even Mr. Blakemore doesn't know the whole story there."

"How do you know so much about Whispers and the Bensons?'

"I was friends with Rose."

I blinked. "What was she like?"

Edra's expression softened. "Poor, troubled Rose. Such a sensitive soul. She was fascinated by the history of this place and her family's legacy. But she was... fragile. Easily swayed by stronger personalities."

"What do you mean?"

Edra waggled a finger. "Ah-ah, my dear. Information has a price, you know."

I frowned. "But you agreed to tell me what was true in the book."

"And I have. Anything more will cost extra." Her eyes gleamed. "Though I might be persuaded to share a bit more, given recent events. Such a shame about the vandalism in the graveyard."

I stiffened. "How did you know about that?"

Edra waved a hand dismissively. "News travels fast in small towns."

Something in her tone made me uneasy. She knew more than she was letting on, I was sure of it.

"Why do I get the feeling you're withholding more than you're telling?"

She smiled. "Because I am. There are some questions better left unasked answered. Lots of folks around Irving don't take kindly to outsiders digging up old secrets."

A finger of fear ran up my neck. "Is that a threat?"

Edra laughed. "Heavens, no. Consider it friendly advice. I'm an outsider, too. But trust me, this town has teeth, and they're sharp."

She stood abruptly, smoothing her skirts. "Now then, about my fee. Five hundred should cover it."

I balked at the amount but knew better than to argue. As I counted out the bills, Edra's eyes roamed the room again, lingering on certain spots as if she could see things I couldn't.

"You be careful now," she said as I walked her to the door. "Magic has a way of finding those who go looking for it. And not always in ways you'd expect."

With that cryptic warning, she swept out the door, leaving me with more questions than answers. I watched her drive away, clutching Wayne's manuscript. The book's weight suddenly felt significant, as if the secrets within were trying to break free.