The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5) by Michael Richan Page B

contained
a line drawing of a different flower.
    “Last name Williamson?” Steven asked.
    “Yes,” June said. “Bill Williamson.”
    Steven flipped pages until he found the entry, then took out
his phone and typed in the address and number.
    “Is Bill gifted?” Roy asked June.
    “I don’t think so,” June said. “But he knew Mark was. They
were very close. Worked together at times.”
    “Would you mind calling him, to introduce us?” Steven asked.
“Might be easier than us dropping in on him out of the blue.”
    “Of course,” she said, rising to get her phone. Steven dialed
for her. She talked with Bill for a while, then hung up.
    “OK,” she said, “he’s expecting you. I hope he can help.”
     
    ◊
     
    They drove straight to Bill’s house, which was about fifteen
minutes away. The neighborhood Bill lived in was upscale, with many
hundred-year-old mansions that had been, in most cases, restored. Parking was
tight on 35th street in front of Bill’s house.
    “This is the kind of neighborhood,” Roy said, as they walked
to the front of the house, “where they sue first and talk later.”
    “We’re not going to try to bullshit this guy, are we?” Steven
asked. “We’re going to be straight with him?”
    “Let’s find out exactly how much he knew about his brother
before we decide how open we should be.”
    They stepped up to the door and knocked. The door opened to
reveal a tall, muscular man with dark grey hair and large hands.
    “You must be the people June called about,” he said. “Come
in.”
    After introductions Bill brought them into his living room
and asked them to sit. “Would you care for anything to drink?” he asked.
    “Not for me,” Steven said.
    “I’m fine, thanks,” Roy said.
    “Very well then,” Bill said, sitting down with them, “what
can I do for you?”
    “We’ve been assisting June,” Steven said. “She asked us to
help her. The house they’re living is makes a lot of banging noises, and it
scares Robbie.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Bill said.
    “June told us you knew her husband, Mark,” Roy said. “She
said you two were close. Is that true?”
    “Yes,” Bill said, “it is.”
    “So you knew of his gift?” Roy asked.
    “I did,” Bill said.
    “Are you gifted?” Roy asked.
    “Fortunately, no,” Bill said.
    “Fortunately?” Steven asked. “You’re glad you don’t have it?”
    “The gift wound up being a terrible thing for that family,”
Bill said. “Normally I wouldn’t discuss these types of things with outsiders,
but June asked me to, so I will. I feel the gift was almost a curse to Mark and
Evelyn.”
    “How so?” Steven asked. He had his hands in his jacket
pocket, gripping the planchette like a stress toy.
    “Well, for Mark, it wasn’t so bad,” Bill said. “He’d help
people with lost objects, an occasional ghost sighting, that kind of thing. I
went with him a couple of times, saw his gift in action. It was the real thing.
He’d talk to me about it and how he used it. But when Evie came along with the
gift, it all went sour. At first he was training her, but she was a pretty
rebellious kid, and eventually he stopped teaching her because she was using
what she learned to behave badly. There were weeks, months when he’d never see
her, they’d completely lose contact with her. And he told me he thought she was
dabbling in things that were the opposite of what he was teaching her.”
    “How did he know that?” Roy asked.
    “Every time he’d see her,” Bill said, “she looked worse. Bill
always talked about the ‘energy’ people gave off, and Evie was giving off dark
energy. He’d try to talk to her, to figure out how far she’d gone, but when she
was around she didn’t stay long. It’s strange – she and Mark had been very
close before the gift emerged in her. Once it did, they were like oil and
water.
    “When Mark died, Evie seemed to go off the deep end. June
tried to keep in touch with her,