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“Did you hear anything unusual? Any noises?”
“No, but I went to bed early. And it was raining hard, I remember that much. With all the wind and thunder I couldn’t hear anything. When do you think Mitzi—” I can’t bring myself to say the word “died”; I still can’t believe Mitzi is actually dead.
“We’re just getting started here,” Briggs says. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Not yesterday but the day before. Thursday morning. She came to my cottage around eleven thirty.”
“What for?”
It sounds embarrassing when I say it out loud, but I tell her the truth, anyway. “Mitzi was a psychic. She had a theory my cottage was haunted. So she brought over her spirit board—it’s like a Ouija board? And we tried to make contact.”
Briggs seems amused. “Did it work?”
“I’m not sure. We got some letters but they don’t make a lot of sense.”
“Did she charge you?”
“No, she offered to help for free.”
“And what time did you finish?”
“One o’clock. I’m sure about that because Adrian was here, too. On his lunch break. He had to leave to get back to work. And that was the last time I saw her.”
“Do you remember what she was wearing?”
“Gray pants, purple top. Long sleeves. Everything very loose and flowy. And lots of jewelry—rings, necklaces, bracelets. Mitzi always wears lots of jewelry.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Why?”
Briggs shrugs. “She’s not wearing any now. She’s not even wearing shoes. Just a nightgown. Was Mitzi the sort of woman who’d go walking outside in her nightgown?”
“No, I’d actually say she’s the opposite. She put a lot of effort into her appearance. It was a weird look but it’s her look, if you know what I mean.”
“Could she have had dementia?”
“No. Mitzi worried about a lot of different things, but her mind was sharp.”
“So why were you inside her house just now?”
“Well, this will probably sound stupid, but I had a question about the séance. We wondered if maybe the spirit was using a different language, and that’s why the letters didn’t spell anything. We wanted to ask Mitzi if that was a possibility. The back door was open so I knew she had to be home. Adrian thought she might be hurt, so we went in the house to see if she was okay.”
“Did you touch anything? Did you handle any of her possessions?”
“I opened her bedroom door. To see if she was sleeping. And I guess I muted her TV. She had it going so loud, we couldn’t hear anything else.”
Briggs looks down to my waist, and I realize she’s studying my pockets. “Did you take anything from the house?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then would you mind turning your pockets inside out? I believe you’re telling the truth, but it’s better for everyone if I check.”
I’m glad that Adrian kept the notes from the séance, so I don’t have to lie about them.
“Those are all my questions right now,” she says. “Do you have any information that might help me?”
“I wish I did. Do you know what happened?”