Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) by Sheila Connolly Page B

enough?”
    “I think so. Here”—Abby handed her the towel she’d used on the kitten—“dry off.” With one hand she took the box with the sand and set it on the floor in the pantry, where no one would trip over it. Then she set the kitten down next to it, and was pleased that the kitten did exactly what she was supposed to do. Abby looked critically at her. Now that her fur was dry, Abby could tell that she was a tiger tabby, and she looked bigger than she had before. Maybe she wasn’t so young after all.
    Ellie pounded up the stairs and returned quickly wearing dry clothes. She handed the wet ones to Abby. “Wanna try the dryer?”
    “Might as well.”
    If Abby had been worried about how to entertain Ellie for a long wet day, the kitten took care of that. They sat on the floor and tried various board games, but the kitten decided quickly that the little pieces on the board were there for her to play with, and Abby was sure that they’d lose a critical number of them in short order. Eventually, though, the kitten wore herself out and curled up on a sofa and fell asleep. The rain continued to pound against the house, and the wind made odd moaning noises as it swirled around the corners. Abby seized the cat’s nap as an opportunity to set out another game, and they actually came close to completing a round.
    “Want a rematch?” Abby asked. She was pretty sure there weren’t a lot of other entertainment options, unless she downloaded a movie onto her laptop.
    Ellie shook her head. “I want to take pictures of the kitten. Do you think she belongs to someone?”
    “I don’t know, Ellie. Why don’t you get your camera anyway?”
    Ellie darted up the stairs and returned moments later with her camera. She sat down cross-legged on the floor and tried to coax the kitten into doing something cute, which Abby watched, trying not to laugh. She opened a few drawers and found a small ball, which she rolled toward the kitten, who pounced on it eagerly. Ellie kept snapping pictures; Abby was forced to chase down the ball and return it to the kitten each time she lost it under a piece of furniture. This fascinating game went on for several minutes—until the kitten stopped in her tracks, staring out the front windows, toward the water.
    Ellie was quick to notice. “What do you see, kitty?” After a moment, Ellie turned to Abby. “There’s someone on the porch.” The kitten was still staring.
    “I haven’t seen or heard anyone out there,” Abby said.
    Ellie shook her head. “No, it’s one of them.”
    Oh, no, Abby thought. She shouldn’t be surprised: of course spirits or apparitions wouldn’t worry about getting wet, and the wind probably blew right through them. And now Kitten was seeing them too? This was getting weirder and weirder. Stop it, Abby: if this is real, or as real as this phenomenon gets, see if you can sense anyone on the porch . She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Yes. There was something. Someone. The crying woman? Had that been real or a half-waking dream? One way to find out: go look. Abby didn’t feel afraid. Ellie was watching her, waiting for guidance. The kitten was still staring.
    Abby scrambled to her feet and walked carefully to the door to the porch. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open, then stepped out into the gale. In the corner to her right she saw a woman. Seated in one of the wicker chairs, huddled in a corner, with a shawl or blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was looking out at the water and didn’t react to Abby’s presence. Abby studied her: definitely older—sixtyish? Silvery hair, now wet. But the water dripping down her face did not come from the storm, or not the one raging at the moment. The woman was crying, silently. Abby wanted to comfort her somehow, but how could she?
    Then Abby realized that she recognized the woman. She moved slowly toward the front of the porch, ignoring the blowing rain that drenched her. She had to