by Elle Adams
I walked up to the curving wooden staircase, which rounded a corner to the upper floor. “Might she be hiding upstairs?”
“Maybe.” Carey adjusted her goggles, seemingly oblivious to Mart’s attempts to get her attention. “How do you usually do your ghost-hunting? Do you have equipment or anything?”
She looked me over as though wondering if I had a bunch of ghost-hunting gear hidden underneath my coat. If I were a real Reaper, I’d be carrying a scythe, but most people wouldn’t be able to see it. Still, I didn’t need one to get rid of a spirit. I just needed to know where it was hiding.
“It depends on the ghost,” I replied. “Some of them want attention and don’t need much encouragement to come out. Some like hiding and playing tricks on people. Some are open to negotiation, while others only respond to force.”
“Negotiation?” Her brow furrowed. “How does that work? You tell the ghost why they should leave the house?”
“In theory,” I said. “Doesn’t always work, but it’s generally worth trying. With the stronger ghosts, once you start telling them to leave, they can get… violent.”
“Oh.” She looked down, biting her lip. “But you’re an experienced ghost hunter who can handle anything?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “But I think I should probably speak to the ghost alone. Sometimes they don’t like being cornered.”
“I won’t get in your way,” she said. “Besides, someone has to record the whole experience, don’t they? Otherwise, I won’t have anything to upload to my blog.”
“I’m not sure the ghost will like that either.”
Mart floated up and stuck his head through Carey’s face. “I’d love to be a guest on your show.”
Carey startled, shaking her head so hard the goggles nearly fell off. “Did you feel that? It went really cold. I think the ghost might be here.”
Nah, it’s just my annoying brother. “I don’t see her. Anyway, I think we should check upstairs first.”
I directed that comment at Mart, who could float up through the ceiling and see if there was anyone upstairs without either of us needing to follow. Given the state of the cracked plaster on the ceiling, I was a little concerned it might collapse if I trod too hard on it.
Mart, however, ignored my implied request. Carey pushed up her goggles and spoke into the microphone: “And now, having completed our inspection of the lower floor of the house, our only option is to head to the upper floor in search of our elusive ghost.”
By the time we reached the upper floor, I was seriously considering sneakily using my wand to throw the recording device out the window and then blaming it on the ghost. If the spirit was as angry as Carey claimed, she wouldn’t kindly to being treated like a novelty, and the last thing I wanted was to accidentally get the two of us on the hit list of a vengeful spirit. Then I’d have zero chance of leaving Hawkwood Hollow without causing a huge scene and potentially endangering Carey’s life. Besides, thanks to Mart’s antics, most of the recordings would end up being worthless at this rate.
I stepped onto the landing, where the floorboards creaked alarmingly underneath my feet. I squinted through the doors to either side, seeing each room was in as much of a state of disrepair as the ones below us. “Carey, is there a light switch?”
“Yes, but it’ll ruin the atmosphere,” she whispered back. “Besides, the ghost might be hiding.”
“I’m not sure she’s even here.” I peered into each room, finding nothing but dust and ancient wooden furniture. I was retreating back to the stairs when there came a creaking sound from somewhere on the lower floor.
“Is someone down there?” I called.
No reply. That was promising… or not. What if someone else had caught us in here? A living person, that is? We were technically trespassing, and we’d seen no signs of the ghost whatsoever. Mart had gone awfully quiet, too. I assumed he’d got bored and drifted off elsewhere, but the lack of any ghosts upstairs seemed suspicious after the number of spirits I’d seen outside. Where is this ghost?
A loud yell came from downstairs. Mart.
“Are you okay?” I called back, but no response came.
Nothing frightened Mart. Nobody could see him… except for other ghosts.
“Who, me?” said Carey. “Wait, did you hear her? Mrs Renner’s ghost, I mean?”
“No.” Mart. I trod back towards the stairs, and the front door blew open. A tremendous blast of wind roared through the house, slamming into me like a train. I caught the wall for balance, and a rattling whisper came out of the air.
“Stay away,” hissed the voice.
Carey whimpered and gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “I heard that,” she whispered. “Was that the ghost?”
I dipped my head in a faint nod and trod downstairs towards the open door, holding onto the banister with my free hand. The wind picked up speed, and a clanking noise made me jump. It took me a panicked instant before I realised Carey’s goggles had fallen off and bounced downstairs into the hallway.
I reached the foot of the stairs and picked them up, my nerves jangling, and looked upright to see a tall, fearsome figure leaning over me.
I yelped and jumped to my feet, holding the goggles in front of me like a shield—then lowered my hands when I realised I wasn’t looking at a ghost at all. The man, very much alive, was six-foot-something and broad-shouldered with longish dark hair and an expression of utter disbelief on his face.
“What are you doing in here?” he demanded. “This is private property, and the scene of an ongoing paranormal investigation.”
“It doesn’t look like one.” My tone came out more belligerent than I’d planned, but my heart was still beating a million miles a minute and my body still thought we were being chased by velociraptors. “What paranormal investigation?”
“Mine,” he responded. “My name is Detective Drew Gardener, and I’m here investigating the death of Mrs Elizabeth Renner. This house is off-limits until my say-so.”
“It’s my fault.” Carey stepped out from behind me. “I hired her to come here to get rid of the ghost.”
“I’m a sort of unofficial ghost hunter,” I added. “I was told there’s a spirit here which is proving difficult to remove. I didn’t know there was an active investigation on.”
“I’m sorry.” Carey hung her head. “I was only trying to help.”
The detective regarded her with a mixture of exasperation and sympathy. “I understand that you feel a sense of responsibility since you’re the one who found her body, but bringing an amateur ghost hunter from out of town isn’t going to help the situation.”
Carey found the body?
“Amateur, am I?” I folded my arms. “Did you see who blew the door open just then? Did you hear her voice?”
“I heard it,” Carey said. “I heard the ghost tell us to get out.”
The detective shot her a sideways look, then turned back to me. “Think you’re being funny by terrorising a teenage girl, do you?”
“Excuse me?” I said. “Did you seriously not hear anything? You should at least have seen the door open by itself.”
“Gust of wind,” Drew said, as though that settled the matter. “Nothing more.”
“Uh, no. You have a ghost in here.” I glanced up at the ceiling. “A pretty strong one. Carey tells me all the renovators who’ve tried to work in here have been frightened off.”
“Wizards are easily spooked,” he said.
“If they can see and hear ghosts, then of course they are,” I said. “You, however… I don’t know what you are.”
His brow cocked. “Why not guess?”
Er… not a wizard. He must be paranormal, though I couldn’t tell what type. A warning voice in the back of my head told me I wouldn’t do myself any favours by making him angry, but he was the one who’d refused to accept the ghost’s presence here. One of us was in denial, and it wasn’t me.
“A sceptic,” I said. “Who can’t see ghosts.”
/> “It sounds like the only person here who claims to be able to see ghosts is you,” he observed. “Care to tell me whereabouts Mrs Renner is?”
I caught Mart’s eye over his shoulder. Good. He’s okay. “Nope, but there’s another ghost behind you right now.”
“There is?” Carey grabbed for her goggles. “Where?”
Typically, Mart chose that moment to retreat from view. As Carey looked up and down, I caught sight of the detective’s sceptical expression. Now I thought about it, I didn’t want to explain my dead twin brother to this obnoxious stranger.
“Never mind,” I said. “It’s clear some people only believe the evidence of their own five senses.”
He grunted. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“When you’re dealing with a house you can’t sell because there’s a ghost living in it, then you have a problem,” I pointed out. “I’m sure the renovators wouldn’t like to hear you’re implying they’re lying, either.”
“You’re not from Hawkwood Hollow, are you?” he said. “It’s none of your business. What’s it to you if Mrs Renner’s house gets sold or not?”
“I get paid if I get rid of her, for a start.” I sensed Carey’s eyes on me. “Also, if everyone here believes the same as you do, it’d explain why you have enough ghosts here to start a haunted theme park.”
Carey gasped. “I knew it! I knew we were swimming in ghosts. I just need to fine-tune my equipment better.”
The detective frowned. “You shouldn’t play along with her like that. It’s manipulative.”
“Who are you, her parent?” I said. “You think I flew all this way to prank a teenage girl? If you don’t want to believe this house is haunted, that’s your prerogative, but unless you want a visit from a Reaper, I’d suggest you start taking the ghost situation seriously.”
“A Reaper?” he said. “We have one. We don’t need another.”
“Wait, there is a local Reaper?” I arched a brow. “Slacking off on duty, isn’t he?”
“What do you mean by that?” he said.
“Hello?” I gestured to the town in general. “I’m pretty sure the dead outnumber the living in Hawkwood Hollow. You’re only the second living person I’ve seen since I came here.”
“Don’t be absurd,” he said. “You’ve been here, what, an hour? Yet you still feel the need to make sweeping statements?”
“I saw them,” I said. “And I assume a fair few of your citizens can, too. So what is your Reaper playing at?”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to deal with a ghost, not make judgements about a magical community you don’t belong to. And I don’t see you making any effort with the former, despite your supposed talent.”
“Excuse me?” I glanced at Carey, unable to believe the cheek of this total stranger. “The ghost in question took off when you came galumphing in here.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If you make as much noise as you did while you were coming downstairs, I rather think you’re more likely to have driven her away yourself. Though I’m more inclined to believe you’re making excuses.”
“Right, and the door blew itself open.” Now I remembered why I spent more time hanging around the dead than the living. Even ghosts weren’t usually this infuriating.
“This is a creaky old house that’s practically falling to pieces,” he said, undeterred. “It’s not my concern if there’s a ghost here or not. I’m here to ascertain the nature of Mrs Renner’s death, no more. Now, leave.”
He had some nerve ordering me around. He couldn’t even see the ghost, not if he wasn’t a wizard, so he had no business assuming he was the only person who had a chance of finding out if the old woman’s death had been an accident or not.
“I take it your investigation doesn’t involve speaking to the woman herself?” I queried. “Because if I can find her ghost, then I can ask who killed her. Seems more efficient than your method.”
“That’s not for you to say,” he said. “I’m going to ask you once again to leave this house. If you don’t, I’ll have to call the authorities to remove you.”
Well, that was uncalled for. “I was under the impression you were the authority. Or do you make a habit of ordering around everyone you run into?”
Carey grabbed my elbow. “We should go. C’mon.”
She all but ran out of the house, while I turned and raised an eyebrow at the detective. “Terrorising teenage girls, am I?”
Before he could respond, I exited the house myself in case he really did decide to call the police. Lucky he couldn’t see Mart hovering behind him, making rude gestures. He thinks he can call the shots, does he? Serve him right if the ghost decided to haunt him instead of the house.
Haunted or not, we’d have zero chance of coaxing out the house’s deceased inhabitant with Detective Grump wandering around. He strode out of the house as we reached the gate, probably to ensure we didn’t sneak back in. As he did, Mart flew right through the detective’s body, and he halted, a frown on his face, but he didn’t otherwise react to my dead brother’s presence.
“What a piece of work,” I muttered to Carey, opening the creaky old gate. “Is he the reason you can’t get anyone else to get rid of the ghost? I doubt it helps matters that he doesn’t even believe in them.”
“Well… the ghost hasn’t actually been seen, just heard,” she said. “I hoped you’d be able to draw her out.”
“I might have been able to, had our esteemed detective not decided to butt in.” I pulled up my hood as a few drops of rain fell. “Great. Looks like I’m going to be flying home in the rain.”
“You’re leaving?” A hint of disappointment underlaid her voice.
“I just got thrown out of Mrs Renner’s house.” I tried to keep my tone kind. “It’s clear I’m not welcome here.”
“You’ll be welcome at the Riverside Inn,” she insisted. “My mum was looking forward to meeting you.”
“She was?” Were her entire family fans of that one obscure interview I’d done on Hannah’s Hauntings years ago? It seemed unlikely.
“You’re famous,” Mart said from behind my shoulder. “I hope you make a better impression on her than you did on that snooty guy back there.”
I ignored him. The raindrops became more frequent, and before long, rivulets of water ran off my coat. Why had I decided flying here was a good idea? The perils of mixing broomsticks and thunderstorms filled a whole section in the magical health and safety rulebook. If the local authorities were as pedantic as that detective, they’d probably tie my broomstick to the ground as soon as I tried to take off.
Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead. “Wonderful.”
“Come with me,” said Carey. “My family’s inn has a restaurant and bar, and both are open until late evening.”
A bar sounded like a good idea to me. I needed a stiff drink to wash away the lingering annoyance from my encounter with the detective and the guilt over failing to track down the ghost.
Besides, as reluctant as I was to fall back on ghost-hunting as my main income source, nobody insulted my spirit-banishing abilities and got away with it. Ghosts were my area of expertise, and thanks to that meddling detective, I now had an extra incentive to figure out what was going on with this particular wayward spirit.
On the other hand, I had nothing with me but the clothes on my back, and they were in danger of being totally soaked through. I’d check out the town’s inn and speak to Carey’s mother before I decided on my next move.
The Riverside Inn sat on the other side of the stone bridge arching over the river, resembling a family-run bed and breakfast with a neighbouring restaurant connected to the inn via a pair of automatic doors in the reception area. Inside the restaurant, witches, wizards and shifters mingled with goblins and elves and other magic folk, chatting and eating.
Oh, and then there were the ghosts, of course. I counted only four of them inside the restaurant, fewer than I’d seen elsewhere in town, but they all
looked curiously in my direction as we walked in. From the looks we drew from the patrons, too, I gathered strangers weren’t a common sight here in Hawkwood Hollow.
The young witch behind the counter, who had a blond pixie cut and several piercings, put down the glass she was polishing. “Hey, Carey. Got the day off again?”
“Yeah.” Carey looked down, her face flushing. I’d been wondering how her family would feel about her skipping school, but the girl behind the counter looked too young to be her mother. “This is Maura, by the way.”
“Hey,” I said awkwardly, conscious of the number of stares levelled in our direction from both the dead and the living. “Don’t you get many visitors from out of town?”
“Not that many, but the restaurant is popular,” said the girl. “I’m Hayley. Are you staying next door?”
“She is,” Carey put in, before I could reply. “Maura’s here to help with Mrs Renner’s ghost.”
I suppressed a groan when several people in the vicinity glanced our way, with double the curiosity this time.
The girl behind the counter arched a brow. “Oh? Really?”
“Actually, we didn’t have much luck earlier,” I said. “Seems our ghost is a little shy.”
Hayley picked up the glass and resumed polishing. “Can you see ghosts, then? I heard it’s rare.”
“Depends whereabouts you live,” I said. “I’m guessing it must be rare here, or there’d be more complaints.” I glanced at the four ghosts hovering around in the corner, all of whom busied themselves talking to one another when they saw me looking.
“There are ghosts in here?” Carey pulled down her goggles so hard they fell off and bounced on the floor. She ducked down and picked them up with a sheepish expression.
“You know… forget I just said that,” I said.
The nearest wizard was looking at me as though he thought I was a few cards short of a deck. Carey, too. This situation was precisely why I didn’t mention my abilities to most people, even witches, yet the number of ghosts here in Hawkwood Hollow was on a whole other level. Someone had to have noticed.
