They got comfy around the coffee table. Reheated lasagna steamed on plates at the ready. Tony finished filling their glasses with wine as Mahogany relayed Guy's adventure inside the police station.
"This is taking forever," Guy said. His voice was an octave higher than usual.
"You're right. This is a time suck. There's got to be a better way to do this." Mahogany huffed against the couch. Bits of slashed foam caught in her curls as they protruded from the cushion.
Guy began pacing the living room, muttering under his breath. As he passed by the stereo, light static filled the air.
"Why does your stereo sound like it's possessed?" Evelina said.
"No idea," Tony said. "It's not even on." Then, without warning, he jumped to his feet, clapped his hands together, and whooped. "I get it now!" He dashed off to the back of the house, leaving Mahogany, Evelina, and Guy staring perplexed after him.
Tony came back into the living room, hunched as he walked. A heavy book in his hands. "The application of amplification serves as a means for permitting specters to express their will to those not haunted by the deceased," Tony said, reading the passage aloud.
"Ghasuduent," Evelina said.
"That's it. The application of amplification." He slammed the book shut with a triumphant snap. A small plume of dust lifted into the air above the pages.
Mahogany and Evelina stared at Tony, their expressions blank.
"English, Tony. Speak English," Mahogany said.
"Amplification," Tony said and pointed to the stereo. "Guy is affecting the radio with his presence. If we find the right frequency, we," he motioned to Evelina and himself, "should be able to hear him."
Guy stared at the stereo and waved his hand in front of it. Static cracked each time his hand passed in front of the equipment.
"If I could kiss him, I would," Guy said, gazing at Tony.
"Get in line," Mahogany said. "Try standing inside the stereo, Guy." Mahogany said.
"Good idea." Guy floated into the stereo, his bottom half disappearing into the device and the record cabinet it sat upon. Static blared from the speakers, and Tony, Mahogany, and Evelina threw their hands over their ears.
Guy leaped away from the stereo. "Sorry."
"Now to find the right frequency." Tony knelt before the stereo. "Guy, can you please try again?"
"Wow, a please?" He gave Mahogany a pointed look. "So polite."
"Oh, stop your bellyaching," Mahogany said. "You're so sensitive."
Guy jutted his chin out and stepped into the stereo again, avoiding moving through Tony.
The stereo screamed static as Tony spun the dial, moving through the FM stations. At points, the static decreased in volume, only to grow to a deafening magnitude again.
"Try AM," Mahogany yelled above the din.
Tony gave a slight nod and pressed the AM button on the stereo's silver face. The static lowered in decibels immediately but persisted. Tony rotated the station dial more slowly. About a millimeter before 700 AM, the air fell dumb. Tony released the dial as if it might burn him.
"OK, Guy. Say something," Tony said.
"Hello?" Guy said. The stereo transmitted his voice through the speakers as if she were a living being sharing a cup of tea.
Tony whooped again and did a little dance. Evelina squealed and jumped up and down while Guy threw his hands over his mouth and laughed-sobbed. Mahogany smiled at everyone.
"Tony, if I were able, I would kiss you right now," Guy said, his voice trembling with emotion.
"I feel you, buddy," Tony said. "OK, let's get to work. We don't know if this is a fleeting parlor trick or something we can rely on." He caressed the stereo and returned to the murder wall. "What happened in the station."
"Right," Guy said. "I found Neema in one of the interview rooms. She and Detective Sawyer were the only two present. The conversation was being videotaped." Guy paused. "Let me see, what exactly did she say?" Another voice came through the speakers.
"Neema?" Mahogany stood. "Guy, why do I hear Neema?"
Evelina covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes going wide. "She's not here with us, is she?"
Guy peered around the room. "Not that I can see. I'm the only ghost here. That is, I haven't seen any other ghosts since I've been one. That was me." He shook his head. "Hang on." Guy shut his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together in a frown.
"Right," Detective Sawyer's voice came through the speakers. "Tell me about your relationship with Magoris Idius."
"What about it?" Neema answered.
"How well did you know him?"
"We knew each other in our younger years, but I hadn't seen him in two decades or more," Neema replied.
"What would you say if I told you someone reported seeing the two of you arguing hours before his murder?" The sound of shuffling papers followed Detective Sawyer's question.
"He came into town, and we ran into each other," Neema said, sounding board. "I invited him out for a drink. He got drunk and became belligerent, dredging up the past."
"Do you mean Aurora Kingsley?"
"Yes, Aurora was always a sore spot with us."
"What did he say about Miss Kingsley?" Sawyer asked.
"He blamed me for her death. Mike, Magoris, was in love with her as a teenager, but she and I were in a relationship. He resented me for it," Neema said.
Mahogany's jaw dropped. In all these years she and Neema had lived together, Neema never had a romantic relationship. Mahogany assumed Neema was asexual. Her being a lesbian or bi hadn't crossed her mind.
"Are you sure the argument didn't have anything to do with these?" More ruffling papers followed the detective's words.
There was a pause as Neema looked over whatever Sawyer had handed her. "Thaddeus sent these. If I had an issue with the letters, I would have taken it up with him, not Mike."
"Yes, but Mr. Spike seems to be warning you about something. Would that something have to with Magoris?"
"Oh, she's good," Evelina said under her breath.
"As I said, Magoris showed up and argued with me about Aurora." Neema's words carried a sharp warning Mahogany knew well. It was a tone she'd heard often as a teenager.
The detective's chair squeaked as she sat back. "A man travels across the country to interrogate someone he used to know about a relationship that ended twenty years ago? Try again."
"I have no control over who sends me mail, detective. Nor do I control where people travel."
"This concerns me," Detective Sawyer said, her finger tapping something following her words. "You have to admit it's suspicious, especially the bookmark on the page for monk's hood."
"Detective," Neema said. "Suspicion is subjective. If you want to find something incriminating in an apothecary shop, you will find it."
"What I'm wondering is when my officers are finished with your place, will they find anything linking you to Magoris Idius or Guy Miller's deaths?" Detective Sawyer said.
"As I said, if you want to find something that fits with the story you've constructed, then you will," Neema said.
"Is that an admission of guilt?"
"Certainly not. It's a statement of fact. People from the outside have come to Pandemonium for generations, seeing the residents here as freaks and crazies. We have been accused of witchcraft, sorcery, devil worship, and any other manner of poppycock. Search all you wish with your warrant. You will find no monk's hood beyond what's in that book, nor any other dangerous plant used in connection with the murders of Priscilla Wembley. Nor anything linking me to Magoris's or Guy's deaths."
"You seem sure of yourself," the detective said.
"I'm innocent of any wrongdoing, either intentionally or accidentally," Neema said. "The burden of proof lies with you."
The voices faded from the speakers.
"That was fantastic. You're like an invisible recorder. The perfect spy tool," Mahogany said.
"That's what that was?" Tony said, pointing to the stereo. "I'm floored."
"Thank goodness. I was frightened they were both dead and using Guy's frequency to talk to us from beyond the grave." Evelina took a large gulp of her wine.
"So, Detective Sawyer knows about Aurora," Tony said.
"And supposedly about the rest of the group, and how most of them have died untimely deaths," Mahogany said. She sat heavily on the injured couch. "They must be losing their minds over Thaddeus's odd died."
"Stupid human question time again." Tony raised his hand. "If this is a magical town, wouldn't it stand to reason there are magical Folk on the force? Wouldn't they understand what happened to Thad?"
"It's complicated," Evelina offered. "There are few magical Folk who are cops. Most are seen as pariahs by the rest of the magical community. To become a police officer while also being of the Folk is seen as a betrayal."
"Historically, the police haven't treated Folk with much respect. Sometimes they were the ones leading the mob with pitchforks and torches. However, the Guild does like to have a couple of representatives locally to keep tabs on events and people. I bet they're doing their best to mitigate Thad's death right now. Coming up with some explanation for a person being frozen solid while in police custody."
Tony nodded and rubbed his chin. "Hey, Guy, did you see anything around the time Thaddeus died?" Tony said. "Something that might let us know what we're dealing with?"
"I was in the interview room when a uniformed female officer came in and whispered to the detective. Who then suspended the interview and left the room. I followed her, and there he was. Frozen solid like a block of ice." Guy scratched his head. "Wait, there was something. A blue haze near the window at the top of the cell."
"Was the window open?" Mahogany said.
Guy shook his head. "It was glass with mesh inside it. It wasn't the kind that opened."
"It was a visual spell then," Evelina said.
"Visual?" Tony said. He added the clue to a post-it note and stuck it to the wall.
"It's the kind of spell that the caster need only see their victim to perform. These spells can be done with even a photo of the person, but they aren't strong enough to kill. Annoy them, sure, but kill?" Evelina shook her head. "A visual spell can give someone a rash or make their hair fall out temporarily."
"That would be pretty annoying," Tony said.
"You said you saw a blue haze hovering near the window?" Mahogany said.
Guy nodded.
"Did it look like Bazgul when he vaporates?"
The ghost considered this, his head tilted to one side. "Yes. Exactly."
"Another demon?" Evelina said.
Mahogany nodded. "But not a lesser one," she said. "What if it's the demon Aurora summoned all those years ago?"
Mahogany stared at Evelina and Tony. The rosy glow drained from her dark cheeks. She grabbed her wine glass and emptied its contents, then grabbed the half-filled bottle in the center of the coffee table and refilled her glass until it nearly overflowed. "This is not good. Not good at all."