The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

ones— not yet, anyway.”
    Trixie leaned forward and strained her ears to hear.
    “You see,” Mr. Hunter continued, “the person who’s calling Sarah Sligo from her grave may not be aware that she—or he—is doing so. On the other hand, she might be doing it deliberately.” And Trixie saw him lift his head and gaze straight into the terrified eyes of Fay Franklin.

A Ghostly Presence ●2

    I TELL YOU HE KNOWS!” Fay said for the third time. “You must have seen him. He looked straight at me and said someone was calling the witch from her grave. And it is me. I’m sure of it now!”
    The four girls stood in Fay’s bedroom, where they had arrived only moments before. The horses had been tethered close to the mansion’s back gate and were, Trixie imagined, munching contentedly on a nearby evergreen shrub. She only hoped it wasn’t a prize one.
    Di’s violet eyes opened wide as she stared around the room. “Is this where it all happened last night?” she asked.
    Fay didn’t seem to have heard her. “I was beginning to think I’d been imagining everything,” Fay continued. “I—I was beginning to forget. Being away from this house helped a lot. But now that I’m back, I can feel Sarah Sligo’s presence around me.”
    Trixie felt worried, and she could tell that Honey and Di were as concerned as she was. It still wasn’t clear whether or not Fay was fooling them all. But Trixie was beginning to think that her agitation was quite genuine.
    “Come on, Fay,” Honey said suddenly. “This place is enough to give anyone the creeps. Let’s grab your clothes and get out of here. You’ll feel better once we get you away from here again.” Trixie knew that Honey was right. All the same, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. If they left now, she’d never be able to discover exactly what a ghost detective did in order to track down his phantom prey.
    She was trying to think of an excuse that would allow her three friends to leave while she stayed behind to watch, when Fay shuddered.
    “I won’t ever feel better until Mother and I are away from here for good,” she whispered. “I can see that now. I thought I could stand it, for Mother’s sake, but I can’t! I don’t ever want to come here again!”
    “But then, my dear,” a smooth voice said from the doorway, “you wouldn’t ever be able to rest again. Running away from a problem doesn’t help, you know. You’ll be worried about it for the rest of your life.” It was Mr. Hunter.
    Fay took a step toward him. “What—what do you mean?”
    Mr. Hunter stepped into the room and gazed at her intently. “I would like you to stay here for a while today,” he said. “I want you to tell me everything you know about what’s been happening. Don’t be afraid. I won’t let the psychic forces attack. You’ll be quite safe.”
    “No!” There was a note of panic in Fay’s voice. “Things have been getting worse,” she cried. “Something is going on that I don’t understand. If I’m the one who’s calling Sarah from her grave, I haven’t—I didn’t—” She stopped, her hand over her mouth, watching Mr. Hunter with frightened eyes.
    He nodded slowly and sat down on the tumble of blankets on the armchair that had been Trixie’s bed the night before. He looked around the room. “So that’s it,” he said quietly. “I expected as much. I wasn’t sure, you see, where Sarah was getting her energy from.”
    Trixie stared. “I don’t think we understand. Are you saying that it’s Fay who’s been causing all the spooky happenings around here?”
    Mr. Hunter made a steeple out of his long, thin fingers and tapped them thoughtfully against his mouth. “Let’s just say this,” he continued at last. “It could have been your friend’s psychic energy that has attracted Sarah Sligo’s spirit. Mind, I’m not saying definitely yet that it was. I’m saying it could have been. Spirits who are in—” he hesitated— “in the other world often need a channel to allow them to return to this plane. Those channels often lend themselves willingly to a disembodied entity.”
    “And when that happens, are these channels called mediums?” Honey asked eagerly.
    Mr. Hunter nodded. “They are indeed, my child. Then there are other channels—unwitting ones, perhaps.” He looked thoughtfully at Fay. “Sometimes the unwitting channel attracts spirits who are evil. Sometimes these evil spirits cause strange events to