by E. E. Holmes
“I’d want you here even less,” I said firmly. “You’ve had one run-in with the Necromancers already. I think we can both agree that once was more than enough.”
“If they really are back… if they really are growing stronger again…”
“Then it’s best to stay far out of their way. You know what they’re capable of,” I said. I promised myself I would only invoke David Pierce’s name if it was absolutely necessary—to use it felt like a low blow to someone I only wanted to protect. Luckily, just the suggestion of him seemed to do it.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll make an excuse,” Annabelle said, an audible tremor in her voice. “I’ll tell them I can’t leave the shop. I’ll think of something.”
“Thank you,” I told her. “I don’t think I could handle the worry or the guilt if something happened to you in the midst of this mess—whoever is causing it.”
Annabelle made a noise that sounded like a swallowed sob. “Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”
“Without a doubt,” I said.
“And that if it is the Necromancers… that you’ll tell me and… and…”
“And let you throat punch one if we catch him?” I suggested.
Annabelle actually managed a laugh. “I was thinking somewhere a bit further south, but yes. That will do.”
“It’s a deal,” I said. “And I also promise that if there’s anything you can do… if I need another Walker… you’re my first call.”
“I’m your only call,” she pointed out. This touch of her trademark attitude eased my conscience just a bit.
“Fair point,” I said. “I’ll call you soon and let you know what’s going on as soon as we know more.”
“You’d better,” she said, and hung up.
There. One tiny drop of the worry and anxiety now building inside me had drained away. I allowed myself to feel the relief of it, small though it was. Then I stood up and poked my head out into the sitting room.
“Ready when you all are!” I announced.
§
“Tia! You came!” Charlie looked up from his book at the sound of the bell, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Tia. “Brilliant! And hello, again, Jess. Hannah.”
We both greeted Charlie as well. I tried to catch Hannah’s eye and grin as Charlie smoothed his hair and fumbled awkwardly with the little swinging door that would release him from behind the counter, but she was completely distracted. Her eyes were wide, staring around the place at the pervasive spirit energy, which I knew would feel even more intense to her than it did to me. Even as we entered, several spirits passed through the space, each with the same dazed, fascinated expression on his face.
At the sound of Charlie’s greetings, Shriya emerged from the back room, smiling. Charlie quickly made the introductions, under cover of which Milo faded away to do a bit more exploring. Hannah pulled herself together, smiling at Shriya and shaking her hand.
“Would you like the tour?” Charlie asked us.
“Sure!” Tia said eagerly.
“That would be great, thank you,” said Hannah.
“I’ve already had it, so I’m going to chat with Shriya,” I told them. “You all go ahead.”
“I’ll take you back to the office,” Shriya said, gesturing for me to follow her.
We headed for the back room she had just exited. Behind us, I could hear Charlie trying to convince Tia and Hannah to let him use his employee discount for their tickets, which they were firmly refusing to do.
“So, you got my message, then?” Shriya said eagerly, when we had wedged our way into the cramped office space. She moved a box full of camera parts to clear a chair for me to sit on, and then perched herself on the corner of the desk. “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect,” I told her. “I’ve already been in touch with the team and they are making the necessary arrangements.”
Shriya sighed, looking relieved. “I’m so glad to hear it. I… this is going to sound crazy, but…”
“Shriya, I’m just gonna go ahead and stop you right there. Nothing that could possibly come out of your mouth at this point would sound crazy, especially to me,” I told her.
Shriya smiled nervously. “Right. Well, it’s just… it feels like the—incidents, activity, whatever you want to call it—has gotten worse since you were here. Is that… normal?”
“Well, none of this is normal, strictly speaking,” I reminded her. “But, yes, that’s a common phenomenon. Before yesterday, you spent all your time consciously and unconsciously convincing yourself that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, like just about any reasonable person in your position would do. But now you’ve accepted what’s happening. You’ve acknowledged it. You’re bound to be hyperaware of it now.”
“But you don’t think I’ve… I don’t know… angered something by agreeing to let you come investigate here?” She had lowered her voice to a whisper.
“Let me ask you this. Does the energy feel different? Angrier?”
Shriya pondered this for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Has the kind of activity changed? Is it more aggressive? Has anything tried to hurt you?”
This time she was quicker to answer. “No. It’s the usual stuff—bangs and flickering lights. Objects appearing in odd places. That sort of thing. But… I think… I think I’ve actually heard some voices in here.”
“Like I said, you’ve acknowledged them now. I bet you’ve heard voices before, but you chalked them up to other sounds, or else dismissed them entirely. Denial can be a strong defense, even against the evidence of your own senses. I’ve done this a lot, and I promise you, the energy in here today feels just the same as it did yesterday. I sense a lot of interest and curiosity, but no hostility. Believe me, if something in here were angry, you would know it without having to ask my opinion.”
Shriya’s features relaxed. “Right. Okay. Yeah, I’m just freaking myself out now.”
“Look, if it will make you feel better, why don’t you let me have a quick look around? The team has given me a list of things to check, regarding the electrical and stuff, to make it easier for them to figure out what to bring for equipment. I could go down their list and check for angry spirits at the same time.”
Shriya stared at me. “You can just… sense them, yeah?”
I shrugged. “Yup. Someone once told me that it’s like an antenna. Everyone’s got one. Mine just picks up a few extra channels. And yes, it’s pretty much as terrible as it sounds.”
Shriya laughed. “Right, then. Can I see that list?”
I handed it to her and she scanned down it quickly. “I can help you with all of this. Let’s start with the electrical panel.”
We headed for the basement door, listening to Charlie’s voice drift down the hallway. He was chatting enthusiastically about the “innovation of the film negative.” I grinned, and Shriya caught my eye.
“He really likes your friend. Tia, is it?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice to see him socializing a bit. I don’t get the sense he has much of a social life,” she said. “Shame, really, because he’s such a nice kid.”
“Tia’s the same way,” I said. “Sometimes people get so wrapped up in their studies that they miss those opportunities. I’m glad Tia is starting to take them.”
“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Shriya said. “All right, here we are. Mind your step. These stairs are a right deathtrap.”
We moved slowly, feeling the rickety old boards sinking under our weight. I reached for the railing and then quickly pulled my hand back, rubbing away a film of cobwebs. A single bare lightbulb swung from the ceiling, the pull chain clinking against it. The walls were rough unfinished stone, and the floorboards at the base of the stairs had rotted down to the dirt beneath.
“I’d be freaked out to run this place even if it wasn’t haunted,” I told Shriya, and she chuckled.
“My grandfather never saw the use in updating anything around here that h
e deemed ‘functional,’ let alone parts of the building that the public would never see,” she said. She reached up into the gloom above her head, groped around for a moment, and then a second bulb flared to life above us. I swore quietly under my breath.
“Here’s the electrical panel,” Shriya said, “I don’t know that I can tell you much about it, except that it’s bloody ancient. You reckon your team can work with this?”
I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of it. “I’ll send it to Dan. He’s pretty much a miracle worker when it comes to electrical stuff. And if it’s a problem, they’ll just bring a ton of batteries. Plenty of the places they’ve investigated don’t even have electricity, and they always find a way to make it work.”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I didn’t think of that. I watched their YouTube channel last night, by the way,” Shriya said.
“Did you? What did you think?” I asked.
“I think they’re all stark raving mad, doing what they do,” she laughed.
“Can’t argue with you there,” I said, laughing too. “Ghost hunting is not for the faint of heart… or sound of mind, some would argue.”
“But I was impressed. They’re very… methodical. Careful, like. And they don’t make something out of nothing, you know?” Shriya said. “Like, they’re not going to call a place haunted just because the door squeaks.”
I smiled a little sadly. “It’s all about the science. They learned from the best, believe me.”
As we walked back up the stairs, we passed a door on the right. It was heavily locked up.
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“Couldn’t tell you. I’m not allowed to open it.”
I stopped short. “You’re not allowed to open a door in your own building?”
Shriya shook her head. “It’s been sealed off. See?” She pointed to the tape that ran all along the edge of the doorway. “Black mold. It was all in the paperwork when I finally got the deed to the place. City health inspector would have to shut us down if we broke the seal. That stuff can kill you.”
I shuddered. “Okay, yeah, let’s definitely keep that closed, then. I’ll make a note to tell the boys to steer clear of it.”
“Shriya?” Charlie’s voice called down the stairs.
“On our way up, Charlie!” Shriya called back, but Charlie was already descending the stairs, looking slightly panicked. He stopped several steps from the bottom.
“Do you need help?” he asked, a little breathlessly.
“No, we’re fine. Just showing Jess where the electrical is, in case they need to access it for the investigation next month.”
“Oh, I see,” Charlie said. “I just wanted to make sure no one tried to open… did you tell her about the mold?”
“Of course I did!” Shriya said, laughing. “What am I, a fool?”
Charlie smiled sheepishly, his expression clearing. “No, of course not. Sorry, I just… we’re studying that sort of thing in class at the moment. It’s got me rather on edge, knowing it’s in the building. Did you know it can actually kill you?”
“Not when it’s been treated and sealed up, like this has been,” Shriya said calmly. “The womenfolk can handle themselves down here, Charlie, all right? Now go on back up there and finish your tour. We’re right behind you.”
We emerged from the dankness into the corridor above, which seemed downright cheerful now that I’d seen the horror-movie set that was the basement, and made our way out to the main display area.
“So, you’ve settled on a time for this investigation, have you?” Charlie asked.
“That’s right, last weekend in June. I’ve got to close anyway, for the estate sale, so it’s perfect timing, really,” Shriya said.
“Excellent,” Charlie said. “Well, listen, I’m on hand if you need anything, Jess. Happy to help in any way I can.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” I said, smiling at him. “It would probably be good to have you on call, in case we have any questions, or can’t find something.”
“No trouble at all,” Charlie said. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He inclined his head toward me and then crossed the room to join Hannah and Tia, who were taking turns looking through the lens of some kind of projector.
Shriya and I spent the next half hour walking the perimeter of the museum, counting outlets and making note of where all the switches were. As we walked, I made note of the spirits hanging around the place, trying to determine, as I had on my first visit, if they seemed to be gravitating toward anything in particular. And just like on my first visit, I had no luck. They seemed too disoriented by the energy of the place to find the source of their fascination. They drifted aimlessly through walls, circled room after room—some just stood still, staring blankly off into space. There also seemed to be a steady stream of spirits who wandered the sidewalks outside the museum, intrigued but too wary to enter. Among them, I spotted Milo. He caught my eye and spoke through the connection, “Sorry, sweetness. I’ve had all I can handle of that place.”
When we had finished, I gave Shriya Dan’s email address, and told her he would follow up with a few more details in the upcoming weeks.
“Thanks again for this, Jess,” Shriya said. “Truly, I appreciate your help.”
“No problem,” I told her. “And try not to be too freaked out. I didn’t sense a single angry spirit vibe in the whole place.”
Shriya laughed. “I’m right relieved to hear it.”
“I’ll be in touch, okay?” I told her, just as Hannah walked over to join us.
“How about you, then?” Shriya asked, smiling at Hannah. “You enjoy all of this mad ghost hunting stuff as well?”
“Who me?” Hannah asked, wide-eyed. “Goodness, no. We might be twins, but I leave the investigating to my sister.”
“Did you finish your tour?” I asked.
Hannah nodded. “This place is really fascinating. I hope you’re able to bring business in.”
“So do I,” Shriya said. “Here’s hoping, eh?”
I looked over to the other side of the room. Tia and Charlie were still deep in conversation. Charlie was gesticulating enthusiastically while Tia nodded her head, her chin resting on her hand. I had the feeling that the rest of the museum could have gone up in literal flames around them and they wouldn’t have noticed unless they were forced to look away from each other.
“Hey, Tia,” I called over to her. “We’re going to head out.”
Tia looked up, seemingly startled to be reminded that there were other people in the room. “Huh? Already?”
“I’ve got a few more phone calls to make,” I told her, “But you should totally stay. I don’t want to cut your tour short, just for me.”
Tia widened her eyes at me. The message was clear: “Do not abandon me here by myself or I will hop a plane back across the ocean and never speak to you again.”
Luckily for me, Charlie spotted his chance and leapt upon it with gusto. “If you’d like to stay for a bit, Tia, I can finish up my shift and we could get a bite to eat. There’s an excellent spot right across the way,” he suggested, reddening adorably on the tops of his ears.
Shriya, clearly a sucker for young love, jumped in for the assist. “Finish your shift? What for? Go on with you, now. There’s not another soul coming here before we close, and you bloody well know it. Take off early, and get your bite to eat now.”
Charlie’s face, glowing with the embarrassment of having asked Tia out in front of all of us, broke into a relieved smile. He nodded gratefully at Shriya and then turned back to Tia. “What do you think, then?” he asked.
I watched, elated, as Tia swallowed back five months’ worth of heartache and fear. “That sounds great,” she said, attempting a casual smile that dissolved into a giddy sort of grin.
“That’s sorted, then,” Shriya said. “Sod off, the lot of you, and leave me here alone with my new ghost friends. If this place isn’t going to close after all, we may as well get chummy.”
&nb
sp; Yes, I thought, as Tia gave me an excited little wave and followed Charlie out the door. It appeared that “getting chummy” was now going to be on a few people’s schedules for the afternoon.
The thought itself had just a touch of a bitter aftertaste, which I pointedly ignored. I refused to feel anything but joy for Tia in that moment because she deserved nothing less, selfish emotional impulses be damned. Besides, I knew that, if I had been the one walking out that door with a chance at happiness in my grasp, she would have felt nothing but joy for me.
37
Happily Ever After
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I let you talk me into this.”
“Yes, you can,” Milo replied. “I can talk anyone into anything. It’s a gift. Now, hold still.”
“I’m itchy.”
“You’ll live.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Neither can I.”
“Milo! I’m serious!”
“Ugh, will you stop complaining? You’re gorgeous.”
“What’s the point of being gorgeous if you can’t breathe?”
“Suffer, sweetness,” Milo cried dramatically. “You must suffer for your art!”
“This isn’t my art!” I whined.
“Okay, fine. Suffer for my art, then,” Milo said with a roll of his eyes. “Just hold still so Hannah can take the damn picture already. And try not to look so miserable.”
I shifted slightly. “Milo, you just told me to suffer, but not be miserable. Do you even listen to yourself when you talk, or do the words just fall out of your mouth in a random order like sassy fridge poetry?”
“You know what I mean!” Milo cried, exasperated. “Models manage to suffer without looking miserable!”
I laughed, which was a mistake because it made my pose even more uncomfortable. “Milo, Mr. Fashion Designer Extraordinaire, have you ever even looked at a fashion magazine? They all look miserable. Every single one of them! All. The. Time.”
“That’s not misery, that’s smolder. You’re not smoldering enough.”
I dropped my arms to my sides and sighed. “And how exactly does one ‘smolder,’ pray tell?”
