Chapter 1

“Recalculating…in a quarter mile, turn right onto Desoto Road.”

Alex Teague liked to think he was a calm, laid back guy.  He had experiences he was quite sure no one else in his age bracket could lay claim to.  Even other citizens of the supernatural world looked at him with awe and wonder.  He could see ghosts.  He could walk through walls.  Demons, while potentially life-threating to others, were a mere nuisance to him.  A pair of wings shot out of his back whenever he wanted, and ruined many shirts.  Those wings were strong enough to lift Alex’s frame and take him through the sky.

He’d fought vampires.  Half-witches.  Humans running around with crossbows, with good aim.

Not only did he deal with the trials of the supernatural world, he liked to think he thrived.  No challenge was too great for him.  Anything that a human, ghost, or demon could throw at him, he could handle.

But he couldn’t handle the smartphone sitting on the passenger’s seat in his truck.

A demonic groan almost escaped from Alex’s throat.  Thirty minutes ago, he was content to merely curse to himself as the smartphone talked and talked.  Now he was engaged in a heated argument.

“I’ve just been past there.  It’s a Royal Farms.  I don’t think my destination is a damn Royal Farms—”

“Your destination is on the left.”

“It is not!  You just said turn right!  You stupid son of a—”

“Recalculating….”

Alex gripped the steering wheel so tightly he thought he’d rip it from the column.  It was a good thing his demonic powers didn’t grant superhuman strength, or there was a chance he’d do just that.

He turned into the parking lot of the Royal Farms, what the smartphone thought was his destination a moment prior.  Leaving the engine running, he leaned back to collect himself.  The smartphone stared at him from the passenger’s seat.  He could almost hear it mocking him.

The wonderful piece of technology was his wife Cindy’s idea.  The way she presented it, everything made perfect sense.  Cindy was tired of not being able to talk with him when she wanted to, even if it was a simple text message.  He’d be able to search the Internet for information.  The phone came with a pen, so he could take notes.  It had a camera.  It was an amazing gadget for the type of side business Alex engaged in.

It was also possessed, if Alex guessed correctly.

He grabbed the phone and turned it over in his hands, almost expecting it to yell at him.  It took him several minutes to pop the cover off the back, remove the battery, reinsert it, and power on the phone.  A beautiful animation danced on the screen.  Harmonious music played.  A home screen came into being, with icons and apps aplenty.

The only question was if the phone would guide him.  Did he exorcise the device?

“Christ,” he complained to himself.  “I hate technology.”

Alex had a friend named Jack with an adopted daughter.  A nine-year-old girl named Tiffany.  That nine-year-old girl was capable of making a smartphone sing, if she wanted it to.  She stored all her music, photos, everything in her short little life, in her phone.  Alex couldn’t even make his give him proper directions.

Turning to his left, he spotted a woman watching him from several parking spaces away.  Apparently she’d been watching him since he’d arrived.  She was an attractive woman, leaning against her car with her arms crossed, a crooked smile on her face.  Alex could only imagine how much of a fool he was making of himself for all to see.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah.”  He smiled sheepishly as he held up the phone.  “Just, uh…my phone sucks.”

The woman laughed.  “It’s funny, isn’t it?  I think my kid’s smarter than me.  I think she put a phone in her mouth before her thumb.”

Alex laughed politely.  Another woman left the store and joined the stranger.  They climbed in the car together.  The stranger waved as they drove away, and he returned the gesture.  Killing the engine, he decided a quick pit stop was exactly what he needed.  He’d already been on the road ninety minutes, and he was already late.  The sun had nearly set, and it wouldn’t take long for afternoon to turn to dusk, and dusk to turn to evening.  Still, the last thing he wanted was to show up to a side job thirsty, needing to use the bathroom, and irritated.  A stop at the convenience store would solve at least two out of three.

The store was nearly empty.  Four employees in blue shirts were scattered about, trying to pass the time.  A man waited for a sandwich, while another browsed through the ice cream.  Alex drank in the normal scene.  He’d come to terms with what he was, and the world he lived in.  One of his best friends was a vampire.  His sister Alicia was dating a witch.  The world was full of the supernatural, and most humans weren’t even aware.

That’s why Alex loved the normal.  Sometimes the monotony of his day job drove him crazy, but driving a forklift, going to a movie, watching Cindy bend over as she attempted to bake something in the oven, these things were sheer bliss.

Normal was good.

Alex glanced around the convenience store as he stood at the bathroom door.  He wanted to enjoy the moment.  Sheer, unadulterated normal.  Soon, that wouldn’t be the case.  He wasn’t sure how the night would end.  However, he did know when he arrived at his side job there was a good chance normal would suddenly be gone.

He washed his hands and looked himself over in the mirror.  It was rare, but there were times Alex’s temper got the better of him, especially when he was hanging out in the not-normal world.  His facial features sometimes changed when this happened, and not for the better.  This led to him not being the biggest fan of mirrors.  He didn’t like looking at his own reflection, as he was afraid he wouldn’t see what he expected.

The guy that looked back at him through the mirror was normal enough.  He’d changed clothes before leaving the warehouse, prompting the guys to joke about how he was going on a secret date.  Jeans replaced sweatpants, a collared shirt replaced an old, ratty tee shirt.  He never thought he’d win a modeling contract, but somehow he’d convinced the most beautiful woman in the world to take her clothes off for him.  She even let him slip a ring on her finger, so he couldn’t be all bad.  He was certainly presentable enough to knock on a stranger’s door.

After buying a water, he opened the tailgate on his truck and sat in the back.  He watched the people come and go, giving him a look as they went.  Alex must have had that out-of-town air about him.  Or he simply looked as lost as he felt.

He glanced at the phone once again as he climbed behind the wheel.  Perhaps the magical reboot of the phone fixed the GPS, and he’d be on his way once again.  There was also the possibility he’d drive in circles all night.

Sighing in defeat, he picked up the phone and dialed a number.  At least that was one thing he knew how to do.

Despite waking up next to her, despite being married, her sweet voice always brought on a smile, always made his heart beat just a little harder.  Corny, sappy, he was aware.  But it was the truth.

“Hey, sexy,” Cindy greeted.

“What’s up, baby-doll.”

He could almost see her cringing on the other end of the phone.  She hated the nickname.

“I see you only have the nuts to call me that when you’re in another state.”

“I’m a smart guy.  What are you up to?”

“Just watching TV.  Leese is over.  She’s actually making dinner tonight.  You want us to save you something?”

It was Alex’s turn to cringe.  Alicia, or Leese to everyone else, was known for many things.  Very gorgeous, blond hair, tan skin, had that classic beach model look.  She was also compassionate, kind, caring, loved to smile and laugh, adored animals.  However, Alex grew up with her.  Her skills in the kitchen were lacking.

“No, I’ll stop and get something on the way home.  And tell Kevin he’s not allowed in the kitchen anymore.”

They shared a laugh.  The last time Kevin, Alicia’s witch boyfriend, stepped foot into their kitchen he accidentally created a magical fog that spanned three houses.  A simple home-cooked meal turned into a night out on the lawn.

“Don’t worry, he’s not here,” Cindy said.  “It’s just us girls.  What’s happening over there?”

“Uh, I’m still on the road.  Almost there now.  Just wanted to stop for a drink before I got there.”

“You got lost, didn’t you?”

Alex didn’t hesitate.  There was no need to, not with Cindy.

“Yup.”

She chuckled in his ear.  He held the phone at a distance, to give his eardrums a break, as he shook his head.  Cindy shared the information with Alicia, who in turned cackled just as loudly.

It was one of the drawbacks of marrying someone he’d known since they was five.  Cindy had only been his wife a short time, but that didn’t matter.  There were no secrets between them, even if they wanted there to be.  There were no surprise parties, no unspoken feelings.  Cindy knew what Alex was thinking from a simple look, mere body language.  Alex could do the same with her, and she’d punch him in the shoulder whenever he correctly guessed she had a bad day at work.

He rolled his eyes as they continued to laugh.  There was no sense lying to her about being lost.  She just knew him too well.

“Ah, sorry,” she said.  “We were laughing at something on TV.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

“Did you use the GPS?”

“Yeah, I did.  And it’s trying to send me to China.”

“Did you reboot the phone?”

“Yeah, before I stopped at the store.  But now I’m afraid it’s going to send me to Australia instead.”

“Hold on.  Let me look it up here, and you can write it down.”

Alex waited patiently while he listened to Cindy moving about the house.  She shouted at Alicia to get her feet off the sofa.  Eventually, he could hear her fingers typing away in the home office.

“Okay, write this down.”

“Hold on, let me get a pencil.”

“Write it down using the phone.”

A smile touched his lips.  He wanted to play, just for a moment.

“But I’m using the phone.”

“You can take notes on the phone and talk at the same time.”

“Won’t that break it?”

“Sweetie, if you make me drive out there—”

“I’m kidding.  Hold on.  Do you feel the little stylus in my hand?  I’m writing it down.”

He jotted the notes as neat as the smartphone would allow.  This was what he needed.  Simple directions.  Left at this street.  Right at that street.  No recalculating or rerouting.

“Okay, you good?” she asked.

“Yeah.  What would I do without you?”

“You wouldn’t have survived kindergarten.  You think you’ll be long?”

“I shouldn’t be.  I’ll drive back as fast as I can.”

“Just be safe.  If you get here early enough, maybe there will be a surprise waiting.”

Alicia responded in the background with a single word.

“Gross!”

Alex smiled.  Assuming the side job ended with little drama, there was no other way he’d rather end the night.

“I like the sound of that.  Let me get going, so I can get home, and get going again.”

“Oooh.  I like how you think.  I’ll see you soon, sexy.”

They said their goodbyes.  Alex followed Cindy’s notes, and low and behold, turned down the street he was looking for within ten minutes.

It was nearly a two-hour drive just to get across the border between Maryland and Pennsylvania, and arrive at his destination.  A seemingly normal, everyday street in a small Pennsylvania suburb.  First Avenue.  Alex smiled to himself as he slowly drove, glancing at the houses and looking for numbers above the doors.  How many tales of the supernatural started on First Avenue?

He had to circle the block once, as parking was a challenge all by itself.  Luck was on his side.  A group of teenagers ran from a house, laughing and shouting at each other.  They piled into a Honda Civic and drove off, in a mad rush to get somewhere.  Alex slipped into their spot.  He was directly across the street from the location of his latest side job.  714 First Avenue.

“You’ve now arrived at your destination,” Alex said, mimicking his best smartphone accent.

He didn’t get out of the truck right away.  Taking deep breaths, he wanted to inhale the scent of normal just a little longer.  His nerves were starting to dance, even though he could honestly say he had some experience now.

The hairs standing on the back of his neck weren’t helping matters.

It wasn’t only the supernatural details that were making his stomach bubble, but the human side as well.  There was a family inside 714 First Avenue.  A husband, wife, and a son and daughter, if Alex remembered the voicemail correctly.  Beside that family was something they couldn’t deal with on a normal level.  Normal was beyond them now.  Alex would go in, solve the problem, and then he’d leave, collecting a check on the way out.  That was also an issue he wasn’t completely comfortable with yet.  He wanted to help any family he could, but it was a job.  He needed money.

Alex studied the neighborhood.  He was stalling for time; he was aware of this.  But he did marvel at the scenery.  Halloween was only a few days away, and the front yards reflected that.  Pumpkins, leaves, scary decorations, all littered the houses.  People drove past, parking in their driveways, getting the mail, waving at neighbors.  A young boy, probably fifteen or so, sat on the street corner by himself.  He made eye contact with Alex once, who simply smiled in return.

He laughed to himself.  It was never like in the movies.  The most haunted places weren’t huge, deteriorating mansions, cut off from the rest of the world.  They weren’t surrounded by large, iron gates that creaked eerily when they opened.  Sometimes, the scariest places were in the middle of the block, and had a driveway.  Even after a simple stroll through the living room, the average person wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

Luckily, Alex was far from average.

Sighing aloud, he grabbed his smartphone and looked for the recording app.  The phone chimed in response as it loaded.  He searched the neighborhood to make sure no one watched him.  It was Cindy’s idea for him to document any job he went on.  It was a good idea, as were all of Cindy’s ideas, but he didn’t feel comfortable recording his voice.  The only person watching him was the boy on the corner, who was suddenly standing up and looking in his direction.

“Okay, it’s five minutes past six o’clock at night.  I’ve just arrived at 714 First Avenue.”  He paused to study the house.  “The place looks normal enough.  Looks like they don’t celebrate Halloween, but I guess if they’re having supernatural issues, I can’t blame them.  I don’t see anything obviously weird going on.  But…I do sense something.”  Alex noticed the boy approaching on the sidewalk.  He didn’t think anything of it.  “What it is, and whether it’s in the house or not, I don’t know yet.”

He stopped the recording as the boy drew closer.  His life was odd enough without a passerby listening to the unusual things he told his phone.

The boy continued to stare as he walked, making Alex uncomfortable.  He gave a half-smile and a polite nod, hoping the acknowledgment would make the boy look away.

Alex was taken aback when the boy stopped next to the truck, right next to the passenger’s window.  Looking behind him, he looked to see if there was a naked woman or monster he was unaware of.  Seeing neither, Alex turned back.

Now that he stood closer, Alex could see more detail about the boy.  His guess of fifteen was probably very close.  Tall, light brown hair, dull green eyes.  A pair of jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt with a picture of an alien’s head on it.  He seemed a little frail; his clothes hung loosely.  If he ran the down the sidewalk there was a good chance his jeans would slide off.

He stared at Alex through the glass, an intense look of curiosity on his face.

“Yeah?” Alex called.  The boy jumped back as Alex rolled down the window.  “Do you need something?  Is everything okay?”

The boy literally jumped a step back.  His jaw hung low as his lips moved up and down.  Almost ten seconds passed before he was able to speak.

“You…you can see me?”

Alex finally understood.  He could sense the presence of ghosts and demons easily.  It was a part of who he was.  But knowing who those ghosts were out in the world was a different story.  To him, they looked like everyone else.  Only the obvious ones stood out, like a man or woman wearing sixteenth century clothing.

He nodded.  “Yeah, I can see you.”

The boy was still hesitant.  “Not like a busted TV or something, all blurry, but actually see me?”

Alex moved his hands up and down, gesturing to the boy’s feet and head.  He wasn’t sure how else to make his point.

“Yes.  I can actually see you.”

The boy couldn’t keep the smile off his face.  “Holy shit!  This is unreal!  Wait…you are alive, right?”

“I’m alive.”  He knocked on the dashboard to hopefully help illustrate.  “Unless ghosts have learned how to drive.”

“Damn!  This is pretty awesome!”

The boy turned to one side, lifted a leg up, and slid through the passenger’s side door.  Alex shifted uncomfortably as the uninvited guest settled in next to him.

“Whoa,” Alex said.  “Actually, I’m kind of working here—”

“I’ve seen psychics before, but not like you.  Most of them are so generic.  They just run around going I sense a presence here.  There was one that actually saw me, I think, for like two seconds.  But that was it.  After that, nothing.  She was cute, though.  But…man, me and you, we’re really having a conversation.”

Alex rolled his eyes as he glanced out the window to the house.

“Yeah.  We’re really having a conversation.  Listen, I’d love to talk, but—”

“Were you born psychic?  Or was it something that came along when you grew up?”

Alex tried to be annoyed, but couldn’t.  The boy was chatty, maybe irritating, but Alex already liked him.  His friendliness was catching.

“I was bitten by a genetically altered ghost.”

The boy’s brow furrowed in confusion.  He moved his lips, repeating the words, and Alex laughed quietly.

“Oh!” he said.  “You talking about Spider-man?  I saw the latest in the theater.  I guess it wasn’t bad, but not something I’d pay for.  If I couldn’t just walk inside any theater I wanted, I wouldn’t have even bothered.  Just last week I saw—”

“Whoa!” Alex said, holding a hand up.  He took a breath to gather his composure, something he’d wish the passenger would do.  It was a shame ghosts didn’t breathe.  “My name’s Alex.  You got a name?”

“Ah, sorry.  I know I’m running my mouth.  It’s just been a while since I’ve talked to anyone, and the first time since dying that I’ve talked to a live person.  I’m Nathan, but everyone calls me Nate.  Or, they used to call me Nate.”

“Nice to meet you, Nate.  I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’m actually in the middle….”

Alex trailed off as the opportunity in front of him smacked him across the face.  How many times would he be able to interview a ghost before a case?

“Go on,” Nate pressed.  “In the middle of what?”

“Say, you don’t happen to be haunting any of these houses, are you?”

Nate scowled as he shook his head.  “Nah, man.  I don’t usually go into any houses.  That’s like a violation of privacy, ya know?  Even if I did, I don’t have enough hate and anger, or even sadness to generate the energy to move anything around.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully.  He wasn’t sure how long Nate had been a ghost, but he knew enough about the basic mechanics of a haunting.  It wasn’t difficult for a ghost to haunt a house, as long as they had the proper motivation.

Nate continued to speak as Alex watched the house.

“There is one thing that I do though,” he said.  “There’s this gorgeous woman that jogs every morning.  Lives on the last house on the block.  I guess the weather’s still pretty good.  It’s not like I can feel it.  Anyway, she runs in these little tight black shorts and a tank top.  Red hair flopping all around.  If a lawyer cornered me, I’d admit I follow her on her little jogs.”

“Yeah, the weather hasn’t turned yet,” Alex said.  “A little warm for fall.”  He shook his head and faced Nate as his words sunk in.  “Wait, you won’t go into any houses, but you’ll stalk a woman?”

“Whoa, I wouldn’t call it stalking.  I just exercise with her.  That’s all.”  Nate gestured out the window.  “And we’d better be quiet.  That guy over there is giving you a goofy look.”

Alex turned to see a man walking his dog, his eyes locked on the truck.  Grabbing his phone innocently, Alex watched the man and dog continue down the street.  Alex was used to the odd glances.  There were times it seemed he talked to ghosts more than people.

“Let me see if I can guess,” Nate said.  “You’re here to investigate that house over there.”

“And why would you say that?” Alex said, arching an eyebrow.

“There’s been a lot of people going in and out of there over the past few weeks.  People bringing in all kinds of crap.  I think I even saw a priest or something go in.”

“Have you heard or saw anything else…weird?”

Nate nodded.  “I’ve definitely heard some freaky noises, and I wasn’t going to poke my head in, if you know what I mean.”

Alex turned and studied the house once again.

“So, what do you think?” Nate asked.  “A trapped soul, reliving a murder?”

Alex was impressed with Nate’s knowledge.  Violent murders sometimes left a spirit unable to move on, trapped around their own death.  There were times they didn’t even know they were dead.

“Maybe.  I don’t know.”

“So, what do you do?  You go in there and talk to the ghosts?  Like you’re talking to me?”

Alex shrugged.  “And sometimes more.”

Nate smiled and rubbed his hands together.  “I think I have to see this.”

“No.  C’mon, man.  Give me a break.”

Nate frowned, the disappointment obvious in his eyes.  “What do you mean?”

“I do this for money.  It’s like a side job for me.  So, I have to be professional.  Let me go in there and be professional.”

Nate took the rejection in stride.  “Alright, man.  But I am going to stay out here and watch.”

“That’ll work.”

Alex gathered his phone and made sure all the apps he’d need were ready.  Nate gave him a thumbs-up.  Alex’s hand was on the door handle when suddenly a van pulled up and parked in the middle of the street.  Three people climbed out and stood still, watching the house.  An older man, and another younger man and woman, not too much younger than Alex.  They were close enough to hear their conversation.

“Is this the house?”

The younger man checked his phone.  “714.  This is it.”

The woman scanned the neighborhood.  “Parking isn’t great, is it?”

“Troy,” the older man said.  “Give me two minutes to say hello, and start unloading.  There’s parking on the next street over.”

Troy gave a salute.  “You got it, boss.”

“Don’t call me boss.”

The older man walked up the sidewalk as Troy opened the rear door of the van.  He pulled a camera mounted on a tripod and set it on the ground.  In the distance, the older man spoke with someone at the front door.

“Ah, damn,” Alex muttered.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What’s wrong?” Nate asked.  “You know these guys?”

“Not at all.”

Troy and the young woman continued their conversation.

“Hey, Amy,” he said.  “You know, these cameras aren’t all that heavy.  It wouldn’t kill you to carry one.”

Amy gestured to the lovely dress she wore.  It was a pretty turquoise, stopping at the knees.  Her one-inch heels matched.  A very well put-together woman.  She couldn’t have been a year or two older than Alicia.

“The last time I helped you move anything, I had to bend over.  You looked up my dress.”

Troy ran a hand through his dark hair, and a coy smile crossed his face.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t see anything.”

Troy unloaded the van while Amy stared at the house.  Alex shook his head and rested it against the seat in frustration.

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s going on?” Nate asked.  For some unknown reason, he was whispering.  “Another of those ghost-hunting teams you see on TV?  I hate to say it, but they look a lot more professional than you.”

“And why is that?  Because they have a pretty lady and a bunch of cameras?”

“Well…yeah.”

Alex laughed, to try to keep from getting angry.  Cindy always offered to come with him, and he would always decline.  They shared everything, but she’d seen enough in their life.  There was no need to provide fuel for more nightmares.

“Maybe I will start bringing Cindy along with me.”

“Who’s Cindy?  Is she hot?  Does she have a sister, preferably one who’s died?”

Alex narrowed his gaze at Nate.

“Sorry,” Nate said.  “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Alex listened once again to the conversation outside his truck.

“So,” Troy said.  “Do you really think this house is haunted?”

Amy sighed and put her hands on her hips.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up.  What were our last two houses?  Swelling pipes, and—”

“Raccoons in the attic,” Troy finished for her.  “Don’t remind me.  One of the little bastards bit me.”

“Mr. Donovan must think something is here, though.  Right?  He wouldn’t bring us out here otherwise.”

“Yeah.”  Troy lowered his head, his anxiety showing.  “Uh, Amy, listen.  If this doesn’t go all night—”

“No.  I will not go out with you.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Of course I did,” she said, laughing.  “I’m psychic, remember?”

Alex huffed.  “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“What’s the problem, man?”

“I thought it would just be me.”

“So…it’s not just you.  So what?”

“The things I do, I just—”

He jumped when there was a knock at the window.  The attractive psychic, Amy, waved shyly and offered a smile.

“Hi, there,” she said.

Alex turned to see if she was addressing someone behind him.  Nate, perhaps?  Her eyes were focused on him as she made the motion to roll down his window.  He did so, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Yeah?”

“Hi,” she said again, awkwardly.  “Uh…are you going to be here a while?  Parking on this street sucks.  My friend over there wanted me to ask you.”

“No, I didn’t,” Troy called.  “She said she didn’t want to walk a block back to the van.”

Alex laughed.  “I’ll be here another minute or so, then I’m gone.”

“Thank you so much,” Amy said, reaching in to touch his arm.  “We really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

He rolled up the window as Amy turned to talk to Troy.  He could feel Nate’s eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You’re leaving?” Nate asked.  “You just got here.”

“Obviously, they don’t need me now, do they?”

“Damn, man, you quit easy.  You’re just going to leave?  I mean…so they got a lot of hardware, and a real pretty psychic lady, and the guy on the porch up there who’s a lot older and probably a lot more experienced.”

“Thanks, Nate.”

“If for nothing else, stay and get that chick’s phone number.  I think she digs you.”

Alex held up his hand to show off his ring.  “I’m married.”

“Damn!  You’re way young to be married, aren’t you?”  He held up a hand.  “Even better.  Get to know her, and tell her you know this cool guy named Nate.”

A chuckle escaped from Alex, against his will.  Troy and Amy heard him and gave him an odd look.  Alex took in the house one more time.  Troy continued to unload gear and set it on the sidewalk while Amy helped.  Mr. Donovan spoke with who Alex assumed was the head of the household on the porch, the father.  Mr. Donovan kept a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.

“I want to help,” Alex said.  “And I’d like to get paid, but this isn’t going to work.  It was nice meeting you, Nate.”

“Wow,” Nate said, shaking his head.  “Alright, man.  Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

Nate slid out and stood on the sidewalk.  Alex started the truck and shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he fastened his seatbelt.  He turned to give the house one last look, doing his best to fight the guilt that was creeping in.  He didn’t like leaving a family in need.  He also certainly didn’t enjoy leaving easy money on the table.  But working alongside another team wouldn’t end well.  Too many questions would pop up, ones Alex didn’t like answering.  Even the strongest psychics couldn’t have a full conversation with a ghost.  There were limits as to how much a human could peer into the spirit world.

Alex had no such limits.

Before pulling out onto the street, he saw something that caught his eye.  A boy, no more than ten years old, stood at one of the windows on the second floor, possibly a bedroom.  He held the curtain back, looking out at the world before him.  His eyes and posture haunted Alex.  Such sadness, such defeat.  The boy was terrified.  It looked like he hadn’t smiled in weeks, or slept for that matter.

The boy looked at Alex.  His eyes almost begged for help.

Alex shook his head to clear his mind and focused on the road ahead.  He stopped at the end of the block and prepared to turn left.  Now that he knew where he was going, it shouldn’t have taken any longer than ninety minutes to get home.  There would still be a little night left.  He could relax and watch TV with Cindy, eat a simple dinner.  Maybe, with a little luck and a few moves, he could move their night from the couch to the bedroom.

He took another left, sighing.  Envisioning Cindy’s beautiful eyes and gorgeous skin, he allowed himself a small smile as he spoke to himself.  He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Maybe tomorrow night, baby,” he said.

Two more lefts, and the circle around the block was complete.  The van still hadn’t moved.  Troy was in the middle of climbing behind the wheel, while Amy guarded the gear on the sidewalk.  Alex slid in next to him and parked in the same spot.

Troy rolled down his window and leaned across the seat.

“Hey,” he said, frustration in his voice.  “I thought you said you were leaving?”

“Turns out I forgot to do something.”  Alex pointed down the street to a car pulling away.  “Looks like you’re in luck, though.  A spot opened up.”

“Ah, cool,” Troy said.  He put the van in gear.  “Looks like we both got lucky.”

Alex smirked.  “Yeah.  Lucky.”

Troy pulled away, leaving Amy alone with the gear.  Alex gave himself one last look in the rear-view mirror.  He wasn’t vain by any means, but wanted to look his best for a client.  Clients recommended him to other potential clients, and a bright smile sometimes went a long way.

“You handsome demon, you,” he joked.

He shut the door behind him, remembering to bring his phone.  Looking over the hood of the truck, Nate stood on the sidewalk with his arms crossed.  He wore an amused, almost smug grin.

“Wow,” Nate said.  “That was the fastest trip I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up,” Alex joked.  “Stay out here, alright?”

“You got it.  I’ll keep an eye on things on the outside for you.  Like a lookout.  Should we have like a signal or something, if you need me to come busting in?”

“You don’t need to do all that, just….”  Alex lowered his head, deciding it was pointless to argue with him.  “No signal needed.”

“Alright, man.  I’ll be right here.  Unless that woman comes out jogging again.  I might be gone for a while after that.”

Alex crossed the street.  The look of confusion on Amy’s face told him she’d watched his conversation.  He wondered what kind of psychic she was.  Did she get glimpses into the spirit world?  Was her field in psychometry, basically ESP through touch?  Alex imagined many guys lining up, willing to be touched by her.  Maybe she was a medium.

Alex smiled and gave a polite nod as he approached.

“Hi.  I’m Alex.”

Amy returned the smile, her cheeks turning red.

“Amy.  Amy Devereux.”

They shook hands.  Amy didn’t twitch or go into any kind of psychic trance.  So much for psychometry.

“So,” Alex said.  His eyes traveled along the hardware sitting on the sidewalk.  He didn’t know what any of it was.  He was certain that even though some of the gear looked like cameras, they were far more than that.  “It looks like we’re both here to do the same thing.”

Amy’s eyes lit up.  “You’re a paranormal investigator, too?”

“Something like it.  Don’t worry.  I won’t get in your way.”  It was tempting to add So stay out of mine.

Laughing, Amy waved dismissively.  “Oh, I’m not worried about that.”  She looked him up and down, nearly making him squirm.  “Where’s all your gear?”

“Oh,” Alex said, reaching for his phone.  “My wife made me get this.  I’m not too crazy about it, but I’m figuring it out.  Camera, pen, voice recorder.  I have to admit, it does have its uses.  But I have to wonder about the GPS thing.”

Amy was taken aback.  “No EMF?  Infrared?  EVP?”

She was speaking Greek to him, but Alex did understand EVP.  Electronic Voice Phenomenon.  The art of recording a one-sided conversation, and hoping a spirit would respond.

Alex shook his head.  “Nah.  I’m more simple.  I just like to talk to them.”

Amy said nothing.  She stared at him, her mouth open and eyes wide.  Alex couldn’t tell if it was lust written across her face, or she thought he was a crackpot.  When the silence turned awkward, he smiled and nodded toward the house.

“Well, I’d better go introduce myself.”

Alex didn’t need to be officially psychic to sense Amy staring at him.  Putting her out of his mind, he waved as he approached the porch.  Mr. Donovan was still talking to the head of the household.  Their conversation turned to a whisper, then completely stopped as he drew near.

The cold chill down his spine grew worse with every step.

“Hello,” Alex said, taking the two steps and joining them.

The man on the left eyed Alex carefully.

“Are you…Alex?”

A small weight lifted.  At least they didn’t forget he was coming.

“I am, sir.  Alex Teague.  I’m sorry about the time.  I would have been here sooner, but I have to admit, I got a little lost getting here.”

“Don’t worry about it.  We’re just glad your here.  I’m Jason.  Jason Felder.  My wife and kids are inside.  Listen, I have to prepare you—”

Alex held up a hand.  “No, please.  Actually, don’t prepare me.  I’d rather work cold.”

Mr. Donovan laughed quietly.  “You sound just like Amy.  I’m Professor Donovan.  I teach at the local university.  And, when I can, I like to try to help people with…unusual problems, like Jason has here.  It’s good to meet you.  Jason told me you were coming.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.  It would have been nice to have had that same courtesy.

“Here’s my card,” Donovan offered.

He accepted the card and shoved it in his pocket, feeling like an amateur that he didn’t have one to offer in return.  The next time he talked to Cindy, that would be the first thing he brought up.  Business cards.

He regarded both men.  Donovan was in his sixties, and had a grandfatherly air about him.  All he needed was a red coat, and he could have passed for Santa Claus.  He wore a button-down shirt and dress pants, looking like he’d just stepped out of the classroom.

Jason had definitely seen better days.  Huge, black circles hung under his eyes.  Somewhere in his forties, he had the look of a man who worked hard for a living.  Well-built, stocky.  There was no smile, no joy in his face.  Alex imagined some time had gone by since he last laughed.

Jason put his hands in his pockets, looking lost.

“So…what now?  Do you want to go inside?”

“Sure,” Donovan answered.  “We can introduce my team to your family, set up some equipment.  They won’t mind being interviewed, will they?”

Jason huffed.  “You probably won’t get anything from my daughter, but my wife and son won’t mind.”

“Good enough.”  Donovan gestured to the door.  “Shall we?”

Alex held up a finger, looking at Jason.

“Uh, sir—”

“Please.  Call me Jason.  I’m not ninety years old.”

“Okay, Jason.  Before we go inside—”

“Ah!” Jason said, remembering.

Guilt and relief clawed at Alex as Jason fished an envelope out of his pocket, and handed it over.  Alex wouldn’t open it, even if Donovan wasn’t watching with a look of disdain.  Alex assumed it was the first half of his agreed upon fee.  Five hundred dollars.  Five hundred on arrival, five hundred on removal of the presence.  The terms were clear and precise, and Alex thought the price was fair.  Jason certainly didn’t hesitate when they discussed it on the phone.

His hand shook as he slipped the envelope in his back pocket, and not from the cold chill coursing through him.  The guilt continued to attack.  He tried to remember what Cindy always told him.  Firemen and policemen certainly didn’t feel guilty when they cashed their paychecks.  He was performing a service.  For that service, he should be paid.

Could the Felder family afford a thousand dollars?  Was that payment strapping them in any way?  Was he taking food out of their mouths?

Alex shook away the thoughts and took a deep breath.  Donovan still watched him carefully with his hand on the door.  The three men traded looks, and Jason took the lead to open the door to his home.

The blast of air felt like it came from the arctic as Alex stepped inside.  The living room was neat, tidy.  Pictures of Jason and his family lined the walls.  A large TV that Alex envied was mounted on the wall.  There was no wall between the living room and dining room.  Alex liked the look.  He could see clear into the kitchen, as Jason’s wife loaded a dishwasher.

“Donna,” Jason called.  “Our company is here.”

Donna Felder closed the dishwasher and approached.  Like Jason, she had the appearance of a woman that was living with a stress that would not go away.  Her long brown hair had a streak of gray on the right side.  Her cheeks were sunken, her frame frail.  Alex imagined that wasn’t her normal appearance.

“Hi.  Thank you for coming.” 

She shook Donovan’s hand, and then Alex’s.  As she touched Alex, her face crumpled and tears began to flow.  She broke down, and reached out to him.  He hugged her, and the fact that he was charging this terrorized family whispered to him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.  “It’s just that…this whole thing has been hard on my family.”

“Don’t worry,” Donovan said.  “We’ll do all we can.”

Alex’s brow furrowed.  That wasn’t very comforting.

There were loud, stomping steps above them from the second floor.  Everyone looked to the stairs to their right, and a teenage girl popped her head around the corner.  She resembled her mother, with the exception of the tiny stud stuck on the side of her nose.

“Hey Mom,” she called.  “Is dinner ready yet?”

“I just put it in the oven,” Donna said.  “It’ll be a while.”  Her eyes went big.  “Where is your brother?”

“He’s in his room.”

“Kimberly!  How many times have I said it now?  I don’t want you and Keith wandering around the house by yourselves!”

“We’re not wandering, Mom.  We’re in our rooms.  We’re fifteen feet apart.”

“Stay in his room with him.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes.  “I’m a little too old to be hanging out in my brother’s room.”

“Kimberly—”

“Fine, fine.  I’ll babysit the little crybaby.  Relax.”

She disappeared from view.  Alex kept his eyes on the empty stairs leading up.  Part of his procedure was to tour any house, and the upstairs was as good a start as any.

There was a quick knock at the front door, followed by Troy slowing poking his head in.  Amy’s perfume drifted in behind him.

“Hey, everybody,” Troy said.  “Is it okay if we come in?”

“Of course,” Donna said.  Jason opened the door for them.

Troy and Amy stepped inside, miscellaneous equipment under each arm.  Everyone exchanged names, shook hands, smiled when they could.  At the end of the meet and greet, Troy looked at Alex with confusion.

“Hey,” he said.  “Weren’t you the guy in the truck out there?”

“That’s me.”

“Okay,” Donovan said, addressing everyone.  “Troy, if you don’t mind, would you start setting up?  Amy can help, until we’re ready to walk the house.  Jason, Donna, I’d like to ask you both some questions.”

Donovan was obviously a take-charge kind of guy.  Troy and Amy set their equipment down, with Amy giving Alex another look.  Donovan led Jason and Donna to the dining room as he pulled out a notepad and pen.  Alex was left alone.  He wondered with Donovan’s personality, and the fancy equipment around them, if anyone would even notice he was there.

“I’ll be upstairs,” Alex said, suddenly feeling small.  No one heard him.  “Just…you know.  Doing my thing.”

He shook his head as he ascended to the second floor.  It was tempting to return the money in his back pocket, and head home.  Doing the work he did was complicated enough without additional people watching him, and cameras recording him.

The second floor hallway was just as cold as the first floor.  The hallway was long and narrow, with a painting or two scattered about.  A small table sat outside an open door, holding three decorative vases.

Alex pulled out his phone.  Sighing, he turned on the recorder.  He hoped whatever was in the house would reveal itself soon.  There was nothing that made him feel more foolish than talking to himself all night.

“The house is freezing.  There’s something here for sure.  The upstairs is cold, like the downstairs.  Note to self.  Bring a jacket on these little jobs.”

He poked his head into the first room he saw.  A young boy, presumably Keith, sat on the edge of his bed, his back to the door.  For a brief moment, Alex thought he was looking at a ghost.  Then he noticed the video game playing on the TV in the corner, along with Keith casting a full shadow across the bed.  Ghosts sometimes popped up at the strangest times, Nate being a good example.

“Hey, there,” Alex said.  “You mind if I stop in for a second?”

Keith shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated manner, which Alex took as an invitation.  Alex studied the room, and didn’t notice anything of interest.  Clothes on the floor, a backpack in the corner.  There were picture frames along the dresser, all of them face down.

“Pictures of my Mom and Dad, and Kim,” Keith said.

Alex glanced at Keith.  The young boy was watching him carefully.

“You don’t like them?” Alex said, trying to make a joke.  “Don’t want to see them?”

He shook his head.  “No.  The ghost keeps knocking them over.”

Keith died in his game, as some kind of death-music played.  Instead of starting over, he simply stared at the continue screen, his fingers hovering aimlessly over the buttons.  It was almost as if he was looking past the TV.

Alex sat on the bed next to him.

“Are you going to get rid of the ghost?”

The direct question caught him by surprise.

“Yeah.  If there’s a ghost, I’ll get rid of it.”

Keith didn’t like being doubted.  “It’s a ghost.”

“Why do you say that?”

Keith ignored the question and looked at Alex’s phone, still in his hand.

“Was that you talking out in the hall?”

“Yeah.  My wife’s always telling me I need to be documenting this stuff, jotting everything down.  To be honest, I feel like a tool talking into this thing.”

Alex achieved his simple goal, which was just to coax a smile out of Keith.  It didn’t last long, but it was nice while it lasted.  Keith pointed at the phone.

“Can I tell you a story?”

Alex hesitated a moment.  Any quotes or testimonies from a child should probably be in the presence of a parent.  But if it brought a moment of joy, even relief of some kind, Alex wouldn’t say no.  He could always erase it later, if the parents objected.

He pressed record and handed the phone over.  Keith gripped it with both hands.

“Uh, I’m Keith.  Keith Felder.”  He looked up at Alex.  “Is that okay?”

Alex laughed.  “You say whatever you want.”

Keith cleared his throat.

“We can hear the ghost at night.  Sometimes it’s loud footsteps, or banging on the walls.  It knocks pictures over all the time and throws them around.  Sometimes I can hear voices, but I can’t figure out what they’re saying.  They’re actually in my room, talking, so maybe it’s more than one.”  Tears welled up in his eyes, and Alex questioned the decision to let him record.  “Mom fell down the stairs the other day.  She says the ghost pushed her.  Some holy guy from our church came over last week.  He tried to get rid of the ghost, but he ran out when pictures started falling off the walls.”  Keith’s hands were shaking.  “Mom doesn’t want us in the house by ourselves.  Umm…I think that’s it.”

Alex took the phone and stopped the recording.  He put a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“That was good.  Maybe when this is all over, I could use an assistant.”

Another small, quick smile.

“You’re nice.  Not like the guy from church that was here.  He thought we were crazy.  I could tell he didn’t believe Mom, but I know he did when he ran to his car.”

Alex laughed.  “Yeah.  I’ll bet his shoes were on fire.”

“Do you believe there’s a ghost here?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Yeah.  Definitely.  The fun part is finding it and making it leave.”

“How can you tell?”

“I sense things,” Alex said, deciding to keep the rest of his supernatural pedigree to himself.  He rose to his feet and gave Keith a smile.  “So trust me, I believe you.”

That seemed to relax the boy somewhat, as if believing was half the battle.  If only that were true.

He left Keith in his room as he started another game.  Quiet music came from the bedroom next to Keith’s.  Alex peered in to see Kimberly lying on her stomach on her bed, her back to the door.  Her bare feet flitted back and forth aimlessly as she poked at an iPhone.  Alex laughed to himself at the sight.  He didn’t even want a phone, and it seemed the modern-day teenager couldn’t live without one.

Kimberly noticed Alex’s shadow on the wall, and let out a disgusted sigh.

“Mom, I told you.  Keith is fine.  He’s playing his stupid game—”

The surprise was apparent when she flipped over and sat upright. 

“Sorry,” Alex said.  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She smiled and rolled her head sarcastically.  He could see that patented teenage rebellion out in full force.  Every statement would be combative.

“You’re hardly scary,” Kimberly said.  “So, you’re another ghost guy?  Here to save us all from the terrible horrors?”

“Something like that.  I was hoping to check out your room real quick.”

“Well, you can’t.  Now go away.”

Alex didn’t miss a beat.  “You got it.”

He didn’t need her attitude.  He certainly didn’t need her help in any way.  Supernatural work was unpleasant enough, and the last thing he needed was to deal with a bratty teenager.  She had to eat sometime, and he’d walk through her room then.

Alex was a step away from the door when he heard her voice.

“Wait.”

Looking back inside, Kimberly’s face had softened.  She nervously ran her fingers through her hair and stared at the floor.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she said.  Alex wondered if she’d ever used those words before.  “I swear…I’m not usually such a bitch.”

Alex took her apology as an invitation.  He stepped into her room.

“No problem.  I know it’s probably been a rough time….”

His words trailed off as the wave of cold attacked him.

“Holy Jesus,” he muttered.

Stepping from the hall into Kimberly’s bedroom felt like walking into a snowstorm with no clothes.  It was a deep cold.  Alex wrapped his arms around himself, and looked for his own frosty breath as he exhaled.  There was none, and he could only assume Kimberly’s room, along with the rest of the house, was well-heated.  Kimberly pushed the acceptable limit for what constituted skimpy clothing, an argument he had with Alicia many times.  Kimberly wore no socks, a pair of black shorts that showed way too much leg, and a spaghetti-strap shirt.  The girl definitely wasn’t cold.

“Hello, goosebumps,” Alex whispered, rubbing his arms.  “It looks like we meet once more.”

“Huh?” Kimberly said.  “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Alex said, glancing around the room.  “Just fine.”

It was obvious he’d found his first hot spot, or rather freezing cold spot, in the house.  He made a mental note to revisit Kimberly’s room again in private.  There was nothing out of the ordinary he could see.  A computer in the corner.  Pictures of friends on a desk.  A small TV on a table.  A typical teen’s room.

Kimberly leaned forward, genuinely concerned.  “You look like you’re freezing.”

He laughed at the understatement.  Why did his supernatural sense have to involve cold?  When an otherworldly entity or spirit was nearby, why couldn’t a mushroom pizza fall out of the sky?  He’d get the message all the same.

“So, is it Kim or Kimberly?”

“Kim,” she said, smiling just a little.  “I’m only Kimberly when Mom’s pissed.”

“Kim,” he repeated, and extended his hand.  “Pleased to meet you.”

They shook hands, and the warmth of her hand felt good, even if for a moment.

“Your brother says you’ve got a ghost running around.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her legs.  “Oh, please.”

“You don’t think you do?”

“Yeah, we definitely do.  But it’s not as bad as they’re saying it is.  It’s not so bad that I have to watch my baby brother all the time, like they want me to.  Hell, me telling my friends at school that my house is haunted is the only reason they’ll come over.”

Alex was intrigued.  He leaned against the wall near the door.

“Tell me more.”

Kim rested her hands on her knees and sat up straight.

“It makes noise.  It’ll knock over a picture.  That’s it.  Voices, footsteps, whatever else, I haven’t heard any of that.  It’s not like I take a shower and feel like someone is watching me, like a perv.  The ghost here isn’t going to hurt us.”

“Really?  Keith just told me your mother was pushed—”

“She fell, she wasn’t pushed.  Our mom falls over her own feet walking up the stairs.  She’s clumsy, and she knows it.”

Kim was defensive, almost angry.  Alex was speechless.  He didn’t consider himself a grizzled, seasoned investigator, but he did have experience.  He’d never been in a situation where a family agreed they had a ghost, but argued over the intentions of said ghost.

There were voices outside the room.  Alex recognized Amy as she walked up the stairs.

“I don’t always get a clear picture of what I see in my head,” Amy said.  “Sometimes it’s not clear at all, more like an impression.”

“Amy’s touring the house,” Alex said.  “I kind of wanted to see this.”

Kim wasn’t interested in the least.  She flipped back to her stomach while grabbing her iPod, a rather impressive maneuver.

“Go ahead.”

Alex reentered the hallway, and although it was still cold, it felt like a sauna compared to Kim’s room.  Amy was slowly rising into view on the stairs ahead.  Donna was a step behind her.  Alex could tell from Amy’s annoyed expression that she’d rather walk the house alone, like him.  He had to admit he was irritated at being lost in the shuffle amongst Donovan’s team, but there were advantages, like a bit more privacy.  Besides, forgotten or not, he still had five hundred dollars in his back pocket.

He just had to do his job to make the other five hundred.

“How long have you been able to sense ghosts?” Donna asked.

“Since I was six.  I used to think I was going crazy—”

Amy stopped suddenly when she reached the top of the stairs.  She locked eyes with Alex.  Donna bumped into her and grabbed her shoulder.  Alex watched with confusion.  He even turned to see if something was happening behind him.

“Sorry,” Donna said.  “Is everything—?”

“Shh!”

Amy gripped the railing, as if standing were difficult.  Alex rushed forward, but she stilled him by raising her palm.

“No,” Amy said.  “I’m okay.”

Donna glanced back and forth between Alex and Amy.  “What’s going on?”

Amy looked up.  “I….”  A dramatic pause.  A stern, serious expression.  “I sense a presence here,” she said, literally echoing Nate’s words from earlier.

The chuckle escaped.  Alex almost didn’t believe it was coming from him.  He watched in horror as the chuckle invaded both Donna and Amy’s ears.  They both glared at him, and he could feel the daggers from their eyeballs running along his flesh.  His cheeks burned.  All he could do was smile apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” Donna said.  “Is something funny about all of this?”

“No, ma’am,” Alex said, lowering his eyes.  “It’s just that…the way Amy said it….”  Alex stopped talking, deciding nothing he could say would help.  “Uh, never mind.  Just pretend I’m not even here.”

“We’ll do just that,” Donna said.  She touched Amy’s arm and nodded toward the opposite end of the hallway.  “Let’s go, Amy.  Our master bedroom is down this way.  Do you want to start there?”

“Sure.”

They both made sure to give Alex one last stab with their eyes before disappearing into the bedroom.  He brought a hand to his head out of frustration.  A quiet, feminine laugh came out behind him.  He turned to see Kim, leaning in her bedroom doorway.

“Real smooth,” she said, laughing and mock clapping.

He smiled, just to mask his embarrassment.  At least someone was enjoying his humiliation.

“That could have went better,” he admitted.

He walked back downstairs.  The front door was calling his name.  He just wanted to get away, maybe walk the outside of the house.  Sometimes the area around a house was just as haunted as the inside.  He could gather his thoughts, let Donovan and his crew set up, and maybe talk to Jason and Donna later, after Donna had cooled down.

His hand was on the knob to the door when he noticed Jason and Donovan, sitting at the dining room table.  Troy was standing behind a camera in the corner while at the same time staring at a phone.  Alex heard the tail end of Donovan speaking.

“—please start at the beginning.”

Jason took a breath and sipped at a glass of water.  Donovan waited patiently.

“Well, it started about three months ago, I guess.”

Alex sighed.  He wanted to get away, but more than that, he wanted to hear what Jason had to say.  He shared much of his story over the phone, but Alex wouldn’t pass up the chance to hear it again, to catch any important details.

He sat on the couch, well out of range of Troy’s camera, and pulled out his phone and pen.

“It started out with the pictures.  We’d come home and some of them would just be on the floor, or knocked face down.  We ignored it.  What else can you do, right?  But then the noises started happening at night.  Loud, and I mean loud, footsteps.  Then Donna got pushed down the stairs.  After that, we started calling people.  No one’s been able to help so far.”

“Has anyone actually seen anything?”

“Donna thinks she saw a cloud of black smoke late one night when she was going to the bathroom.  But I haven’t seen anything.  The kids haven’t, either.”

Donovan signaled for Troy to stop the camera.  Alex looked at his messy notes on the phone.  The details were scarce, but the cold attacking Alex told him the Felders were experiencing something for sure.

“Uh, Jason,” Alex said, rising to his feet.  Everyone looked in his direction.  “Do you mind if I ask some questions, too?”

He intended the question for both Jason and Donovan.  Jason nodded, whereas Donovan’s expression hinted at the exact opposite of his words.

“Of course,” Donovan said.  “No problem at all.”

“How long have you owned the house?”

“I grew up here,” Jason said.  “My parents sold it to me when they moved out of state.  So, I’ve been here most of my life.”

Alex didn’t expect that.  A most unusual answer, and one that raised more questions.

“And the activity you’ve been experiencing these past three months, there was nothing before that?  In all your years here?”

“No, never.”

Alex took notes, as well as Donovan.  For a moment, it felt like they were working together.

“Any recent home renovations?” Alex asked.  “Any major demolition or construction?”

“Well….”  Jason struggled to think.  “We put in a new shower upstairs.”

Alex wrote it down, but doubted a new shower would stir up a long-dormant spirit.

“Has your family visited any place odd lately?  A haunted prison?  An old graveyard?  Strange question, I know.”

“No.  Not at all.  We haven’t taken a vacation together in a couple of years.”

Alex felt like he was grasping at straws.  Something wasn’t adding up.

“Anyone ever murdered here?” he asked.  The question came out more callous than he meant.  “Or any other slow, painful death?”

“No!” Jason said.  “Until recently, this was just a normal, simple house.”

The dining room was quiet as the awkward silence stretched, but Alex wasn’t paying attention.  He continued to stare at his notes.

Normal, simple houses didn’t typically just develop supernatural problems.

In the end, he supposed that didn’t matter.  He wasn’t hired to unearth the history of the Felder home.  He was hired to chase away the bad spooks.  It was similar to the amazing piece of technology he held in his hand.  Sometimes, his phone had problems.  He didn’t know where they’d come from, or even what exactly the problem was.  But Cindy would take the phone and pull out the battery, rebooting it.

As odd of a case as the Felder house was turning out to be, maybe the home just needed a reboot.

There were footsteps and muffled voices behind him, coming down the stairs.

“—lovely family.”

“Thank you very much.  This whole thing has been hard on them, but they’re troopers.  I’m so proud of them.”

Donna and Amy glared at Alex, but thankfully said nothing.  Donovan approached Amy and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Anything?”

She shook her head.  “Nothing for certain.  Just a brief flash here and there.”

“Okay.”  He patted her shoulder, and Alex could see they were close.  Donovan turned to address Jason and Donna.  “If you don’t mind, we’d like to prep the house.  Cameras and microphones in every room.  We’ll take EMF readings, room temperature, all standard stuff.  All we need is some proof that something is here, and then we can—”

“Whoa,” Amy said.

Everyone in the dining room went quiet.  Amy peered into the kitchen doorway.  Donna was checking the lasagna in the oven, and noticed Amy’s gaze.  She quickly joined her husband in the dining room, taking his hand in hers.  Troy backed up near Alex in the living room, pointing his camera ahead.

“What’s wrong?” Donna asked.  “Do you see something?”

Donovan placed a hand on Amy’s back as she took the lead.

“Amy?  Talk to me.”

“It’s like a black fog,” she said.  “Donna was standing right by it.  You guys don’t see it?”

“We don’t see anything.”

Alex peered around Jason’s shoulder to get a peek into the kitchen.  Amy had dropped to one knee, like she was staring into a child’s eyes.  First Donna, and now Amy, had seen the black fog.  Alex was curious as to what his own senses would interpret it as.

He saw nothing.

At first, he thought he’d just missed it.  Being in the back of the group, he’d reacted too slowly, and whatever Amy had seen was long gone.

Then she talked to it.

“Hi,” Amy said.  “My name’s Amy.”

“Careful,” Donovan said.  “Maybe you shouldn’t speak to it.”

Alex leaned close to Troy.  “What’s she talking to?”

“Shhh,” Troy said.  “Amy sees things the rest of us can’t.”

Alex continued to watch Amy speak to thin air.  He was surprised that he didn’t see anything at all.  He knew he was unique.  With all his unusual powers, he wasn’t sure the word psychic actually applied to him.  Still, if Amy saw a black fog, certainly he should have seen something as well.

The truth, so simple and pure, smacked him across the face.  He couldn’t believe it didn’t come to him sooner.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.  “She’s a fake.”

Troy lowered the camera and stared at Alex.  Alex thought he was quiet, but wasn’t quiet enough.  Troy’s mouth opened and closed as he searched for words.

“W-What did you say?”

Alex purposely kept his voice low.  “I said, she’s a fake.  Amy isn’t really psychic.”

Troy said nothing.  He didn’t look surprised, more like someone who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“You knew about this?” Alex asked, although Troy’s eyes gave him the answer.

Troy grabbed Alex by the wrist and tried to lead him away.  Alex didn’t consider himself a violent person, but the last thing he’d tolerate was anyone putting their hands on him.  He shook free easily and flashed Troy a look that suggested, quite simply, not to do that again.  Troy, to his credit, held up his hands in a show of peace.

“Mr. Donovan,” Troy called.  “The battery’s running out in my camera, and I forgot a few things.  Alex and I are going to head to the van.”

Donovan didn’t even turn around.

“Fine, fine.”

“Actually, we could really use your help.”

Whether it was the preposterous idea of Donovan carrying equipment, or the tone in Troy’s voice, the elder man turned around.  All he did was lock eyes with Troy before standing upright next to Amy.

“It’s okay,” Amy said.  “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.  I don’t see it anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Alex said under his breath.

Alex and Troy crossed the living room, with Donovan ten feet behind.  They left the house, but didn’t walk toward the van.  Alex enjoyed the warmth of the outside.  Troy stopped in the middle of the yard, with Donovan finally catching up.

“You knew about her, didn’t you?” Alex asked.

A voice rang out across the street.

“Yo, Alex!” Nate called.  “You need me over there?”

“I’m alright, thanks,” Alex said, waving.

Donovan and Troy glanced at each other in confusion.

“What’s going on here?” Donovan asked.

Troy shook his head.  “He knows.”

“Knows what?”

Alex pointed to the house.

“I know Amy isn’t psychic.  So, everyone knows about this.  I’ll bet the Felders don’t know.”

“Keep your voice down,” Donovan said.  He took a deep breath.  “Yes, of course we know about Amy.  She may not be psychic, but she’s still a very valuable part of our team.  I handpicked her, along with Troy and a few others, when I started researching the paranormal.”

“You picked a fake psychic on purpose?”

Donovan laughed, once again resembling Santa Claus.  “Well, my first choice would have been a real psychic, but they don’t exactly fall off trees.  Amy is the next best thing.  She’s a psychology major at our college.”

Alex searched their faces, looking for a clue.  Confusion was written all over his face.

“A lot of people won’t even let us in their homes without a psychic,” Donovan explained.  “They watch too much damn TV, and think a psychic can solve anything.  So, Amy plays the part.  She’s great at reading people, watching them, helping them keep calm.”

“Her looks don’t hurt, either,” Troy added.

“Troy….”

He held up his hands in self-defense.  “I’m serious!  I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything, but it helps.  She comes in and does her thing, keeps things chill and relaxed while I set up our gear, and Mr. Donovan gets statements.  I hate to sound this way, but the fact that she’s hot goes a long way to keeping things under control.”

“Unreal,” Alex said.  “Sex sells, even with paranormal investigation.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Donovan said.  “You keep this to yourself, and we won’t tell them you’re a con-man.”

Alex was more stunned than angry.

“Excuse me?  Con-man?”

“What was in that envelope Jason gave you?  Are you actually charging for being here?”

“Aren’t you?” Alex said with a shrug.

“What could we possibly charge for?” Donovan said, struggling to keep his voice even.  “We’re trying to help this family.”

“I am, too.  And the arrangement I made with the Felders is none of your business—”

“How old are you, Alex?  You barely look older than Troy.  You have no equipment of any kind.  How do you plan on gathering any evidence?  Please don’t tell me you told the Felders you’re actually psychic.”

Alex rolled his eyes.  He wasn’t going to argue with Donovan any longer.  He simply wanted to do his job, and go home.

“Deal,” he said.  “I’ll keep my mouth shut, and you won’t tell them about my nasty conning ways.  We’ll keep our distance, and try to figure out what’s going on in there.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.  Again, we haven’t even begun to collect evidence—”

“Something’s in there,” Alex interrupted.  He was already to the front door.  “I just don’t know what yet.”

Donovan said nothing.  He didn’t need to.  The doubt and contempt in his eyes were apparent.  Troy, however, didn’t look quite as convinced.