Page 68 of Haunting the Deep

I focus.

“Keep your image strong and specific as we say her name,” Susannah says. “Myra Haxtun Harper.”

“Myra Haxtun Harper,” we all say together. “Myra Haxtun Harper.” Our voices merge and become more forceful. “Myra…Haxtun…Harper.”

I open my eyes. We all do. Mary nervously looks over her shoulder, and I can’t help but do the same.

“Anything?” Alice asks.

“No,” I say. Nothing but a pacing Elijah, who is looking around the room even more suspiciously than Mary. “Let’s try again, maybe say her name a few more times.”

We close our eyes. “Myra Haxtun Harper. Myra Haxtun Harper.” Our voices weave in and out of one another like a song as we say her name over and over.

We open our eyes.

“Not here,” Elijah says, and I tell the girls.

Alice breaks our handhold. “Maybe she doesn’t want to come? Or maybe she never really cared about these things? Although that seems strange since someone obviously went to a lot of trouble to get them to us.”

“Maybe we could look again, try to dig up more on her past that would help us connect with her?” Mary suggests.

Elijah clasps his hands behind his back. “I have looked. And if I cannot find any documents, then they likely no longer exist.”

I repeat his words.

“Okay, tell us again how you got Elijah to talk to you the first time, any details you can think of,” Susannah says.

I nod. “I found an old stack of letters hidden in my armoire, which had belonged to his sister, and I sat down at my vanity to read them. Halfway through, the lights went out in my room.”

“And did the letters have any information about Elijah in them, personal details?” Mary asks.

“No, actually, they didn’t even mention his name,” I say.

“I came because I was aware of anything related to Abigail, those letters in particular,” Elijah says. “I spent many years wondering about her after she passed on. If you had said her name, I would have heard you more easily than if you had said my own.”

“True. Okay,” I say, mulling over his words.

Alice leans toward me, like she can somehow hear Elijah if she just gets close enough. “Does he have an idea?”

“He said he came because he was tuned in to anything having to do with his sister. If Myra won’t come when we say her name, maybe she’ll come when we say someone else’s?”

“Like her husband’s?” Susannah asks.

“It’s possible,” I say. “Let’s try it.”

We link hands again and all take a deep breath, inhaling the tea tree oil and the musty air. “Henry Sleeper Harper. Henry Sleeper—”

“Henry?” A beautifully dressed older woman blinks in at the far end of the room.Myra!Even from a distance, she seems weary, like someone who hasn’t slept in days. “Henry?”

I let go of Mary’s and Susannah’s hands. “She’s here.” My voice is a whisper.

Myra locks me in her gaze. “Why are you calling for my Henry? Do you know where he is? Please, tell me if you know.” Her words are fast and nervous.

“You don’t know where your husband is?” I ask.How can that be?

“No. And if you have seen him, I would most appreciate your telling me so.”

A chill runs down my neck. “He’s not here.” I take a step forward. “I did see him, though. I, um, had dinner with him on theTitanic.”