“No,” she said. “I just met him here.”
“Esther, I was talking to my brother tonight. He’s over there.” I pointed with my head and tried not to think about the fact that he, Cliff, and Gram (and Opie, I supposed) might have all been in the middle of a group where a gun had just been fired. “He mentioned something about you and Vivienne arguing over a letter. Do you remember that?”
In fact, he couldn’t remember who had been arguing about the letter, but if I had the wrong people, Esther might see a chance to correct me and then give me even more information.
“Oh. Your brother remembered that?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly what was happening,” she said.
“So, what really was happening, then?”
“Wait!” Joe said.
I looked at him and shook my head. Of course, Esther couldn’t hear his plea, but if she saw me shake my head, she’d wonder why.
“It started that very first evening,” she began.
“No, Betts! Ask her to wait a minute.”
I wanted to tell Joe to go away, but I just glared at him.
Esther spoke again, but I couldn’t understand her words because Joe was almost yelling, demanding that I ask Esther to stop.
I thought as quickly as I could.
“Hang on, Esther. I’m sorry, but my phone is buzzing.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my completely silent and inactive phone and looked at the screen. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for a call from this student. I know this is rude. Could you give me a second?”
“Sure,” she said hesitantly.
I walked toward the side of the building where the horse patiently stood. I turned the corner enough so that Esther wouldn’t hear me, but not so far that she’d think I’d abandoned her. Joe joined me.
I held the phone to my ear.
“Joe, what’s the problem?” I said quietly.
“I don’t want her to tell you about the letter. Not yet.”
“That makes no sense at all. Why?”
“Because it’s going to make the wrong person look guilty.”
“So? Why does it matter to you?”
“It matters.”
“I couldn’t care less what you want or don’t want me to do.”
“No, Betts, please just wait. Once the last letter is finished, things will be different.”
“Different how?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I do.”
“What’s the connection?” I glanced back at Esther, smiled, and waved. “Unless you’re Astin Reagal and you are her ancestor. You are Astin Reagal, aren’t you? You’re some weird incarnation. You don’t look like you looked when you were alive. These ghost rules keep changing. That could be it, couldn’t it?” I was talking to both Joe and myself. I was rambling.
“No, Betts, I’m not Astin Reagal, I promise. My real name is Joe, but there is more to who I really am. It will be solved when we finish the last letter. That’s the only way to understand anything. For any of us to understand anything at all.”