Her voice turned sultry. “I remember.” She tilted her head, studying him. “But I was talking about your contributions to this investigation.”
He chuckled. “I know what you meant.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I think things could work out…if we ease into it. Slowly.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” He inhaled deeply to calm his pounding pulse. Slow was good. It was movement. Forward momentum.
“What are we easing into?” Eric lifted a monitor into his arms. “Can somebody grab that bag?”
“I got it.” Blake held Sydney’s gaze a moment longer before slinging the strap over his shoulder.
“The investigation.” She picked up an audio recorder and fiddled with the controls. “We need to take it one step at a time. Get our preliminary bearings and then decide our next move after we figure out where we stand.”
Blake knew exactly where he stood, but his brain and his heart were still battling over what should be the next move. He followed Eric into his office, where he’d set up a sort of mission control center. Eric put the monitor on the desk next to a bigger one already streaming video from the cameras in the museum.
“Grab the cord from the bag, would ya?” Eric nodded toward the satchel on Blake’s shoulder.
“Sure thing.” He pulled out the power cable and attached it to the monitor. “Anything else you need me to do?”
Eric plugged the cord into the wall and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah.” He stood, dusting off his jeans. “Try to keep your emotions in check tonight. I let down my shields when we investigate, and if you’re running high, it can mess with my perception of the supernatural.”
Blake nodded. “Got it. Show no fear. I’ll do my best.”
Eric laughed and continued setting up the monitor. “Not what I was talking about, man.”
“Right.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. With Eric’s extrasensory perception, clearing the air with Sydney right before the investigation wasn’t great timing. Reining in his emotions around her wouldn’t be easy. “I’ll do my best on that too. She’s just…” He shook his head.
“She’s an incredible woman, whom I’m proud to call my friend. Don’t tell her I said that, though.” Eric pressed a button, and the monitor flicked on, showing a view of Sydney’s office door. “She’s also slow to open up. She’s got some pretty thick walls because of her whole seeing how things are going to end deal.”
“Yeah.” But this time, things weren’t going to end. If they got together, he’d be all in, for good. “Has she ever had any visions about you?”
“If she has, she keeps them to herself.” He tapped a few keys on the laptop, and the view on the screen cycled through the different cameras. “I’d rather not know.”
Blake leaned against the wall. He tried to focus on what Eric was doing, to learn the tools of the trade, but his mind drifted. “I can’t imagine what kind of burden that must be on her. To know things about people and not be able to do anything about it.”
“Imagine knowing how everyone around you feels. That’s not as fun as it sounds either.” He sank into the chair.
“I bet. Sophomore year of college, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me when I touched her headboard. The energy slammed into me from all three guys. At once.”
Eric cringed. “Ouch.”
“We all carry burdens.”
“I guess we do.” He rose and shuffled to the door. “Give Syd some time. I can tell you two have history, and I may not be able to sense her emotions, but I can read body language. There’s something there.”
“Thanks. I’ll try to keep it in check tonight.” He followed Eric into the museum to join Sydney and Jason.
She smiled as he approached. “Ready to go lights out?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Jason disappeared into a utility closet and flipped the breaker. The hum of electricity faded into heavy silence as darkness swallowed the room. The paper hanging in the windows to block out curious eyes also obscured any light from the streetlamps that otherwise would have cast a silvery glow across the polished concrete.
Blake’s pulse thrummed, and sweat slicked his palms. He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. As long as the ghosts haunting this place weren’t murderous, he’d be good.
Sydney turned on a lantern and set it on a table before hitting a button on an audio recorder. “Museum of the Macabre investigation. Ten p.m. Main display room.” She turned on another device. “My name is Sydney. This is Jason, Eric, and Blake.” She pointed to each man as she said his name. “If there is anyone else here, please make yourself known. You can speak into this device or touch this one, and it will light up.”
Blake held his breath, waiting for a door to slam or for one of the devices to beep. Eerie silence filled the room instead. He ground his teeth as the others asked a series of questions in turn, leaving a span of silence between each one in hopes of receiving an answer.
“Let’s play this back and see if we got anything.” Sydney pressed play on the recorder and held it to her ear. A few minutes later, she shook her head. “We’re not picking anything up. Why don’t you tell us about some of the objects? Maybe if the spirits hear their stories, it will bring them out.”
“Yeah, or maybe nothing’s here. Maybe it’s just the residual haunting that was here when I bought the place.” His voice sounded way more hopeful than he’d intended.
“Residuals don’t slam doors,” Jason said.
“Right.” Damn. “Well, let’s start with the worst.” He strode across the room and took a hatchet from a box. “This belonged to a man named Antonio. He was one of The Axeman’s victims.” A shiver ran down Blake’s spine. It would be his luck to have brought in the ghost of a serial killer. He set the weapon on top of a display case.
Sydney held a gray device with green, yellow, and red lights up to the hatchet, waving it around the space. “This is a K-II meter. It also measures electromagnetic field. The lights turn on when it picks something up.” The device remained dim.
“Is anyone here attached to this thing?” Blake said into the silence. “If so, you can leave. I didn’t mean to bring you here.” He froze as they all stood motionless, waiting for a response.
“Nothing,” Jason said. “Let’s move on.”
Blake took them through item after item, their faces serious as they examined their machines and adjusted the settings. Nothing seemed to pique their interest. He’d expected to feel relief if they couldn’t find any active spirits, but the team’s disappointment fueled his own, and his shoulders slumped with the let-down.
“Just because we aren’t getting anything now, doesn’t mean there’s nothing here.” Sydney moved next to him, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her bare arm. “There might be something on the cameras or the recording that we’ll find later when we go over the evidence.”
Her elbow brushed his, and as she dropped her arm to her side, her index finger traced the back of his hand. “Something slammed that door today. We’ll find it.”
His stomach tightened, and he turned his palm toward her to take her hand. “I’m not worried.”
“Good.” She searched his eyes, and he fought the overwhelming urge to lean down and take her mouth with his.
“I’m not picking up on any disembodied emotions either.” Eric leaned an elbow on a tall, cardboard box and gave him a pointed look.
Blake released Sydney’s hand as the red lights on the K-II meter flashed.
“Uh-oh.” Eric’s smile lit up his entire face. “Looks like somebody wants to play.”
Sydney rushed toward Eric with her own meter, and Jason picked up a handheld camera, pointing it at them. They worked together like a well-built machine, each person knowing exactly what to do, while all Blake could do was shove his hands in his pockets and watch.
“What’s in this box?” Sydney rested a hand on the cardboard, and her eyes widened as her arm hairs stood on end. Excitement danced
in her gaze as she glanced at him, and her entire body seemed to radiate with energy.
Seeing her in her element like this sent a zing through his chest, and he decided then and there he couldn’t fight it. Screw his no dating coworkers rule. He needed this woman like a flame needed oxygen.
“Blake?”
He shook himself, trying to focus on her words rather than the silky way her voice flowed over his skin like warm honey. “It’s…here, let me show you.”
They stepped away as he lifted the box covering the sculpture. A papier mâché statue, half-painted in vivid shades of blue, green, and yellow, depicted a floral vine spiraling around a garden gate. The detailed petals and flowing leaves appeared almost lifelike in their rendering, and a spray of brown mottled the unpainted area.
“Wow.” Eric raised his eyebrows.
“It’s beautiful.” Sydney ran a hand over one of the blue-painted petals.
“What is it?” Jason moved around them, panning the camera to take in the entire sculpture.
“It belonged to a woman named Bernadette. It was supposed to go on—”
“A Mardi Gras float,” Sydney finished his sentence. “You can tell it’s old by the way it warps. My krewe has a couple of these in storage from the first time our parade rolled, and we’re going to include them on this year’s floats as a tribute to our origins.”
“This one never made it to a parade.” Blake placed his palm flat against the surface and closed his eyes, allowing the energy the object had absorbed to seep into his senses. He shuffled through the imagery, from the time the materials were first combined to create the sculpture to the moment its fate as a parade decoration ended.
“The artist painting it, Bernadette, was murdered. Her husband accused her of having an affair with the man who sculpted it, and he stabbed her to death while she was working on it.” He pointed to the slash of blue cutting through what should have been green leaves and then to the brown spots marring the surface.
“Is that her blood?” Sydney touched his shoulder.
He nodded and yanked his hand away from the sculpture before the emotions could overwhelm him. “She’d been faithful. His accusations were false, and she felt so much confusion and betrayal at her murder. It wouldn’t surprise me if she were still around after that.”
The temperature in the room dropped, and goose bumps pricked at his skin. The air around him grew heavy, charged with static, as if a presence was gathering the energy of the atmosphere, trying to manifest.
Sydney smiled. “We may have found our culprit.” She switched on the recorder. “Bernadette, is that you? Are you the one who’s been slamming doors?” She paused and looked at Blake.
“If it is you, it’s okay.” He returned Sydney’s gaze, and she nodded for him to continue. “We’d just like to know who’s doing it.”
A spike of adrenaline rushed through Blake’s system. No wonder they loved their jobs so much. Actually making contact with a spirit—the non-murderous type—was thrilling.
Eric set his K-II meter on top of the sculpture. “Bernadette, if that’s you, will you touch that device I just set down? It will light up to let us know you’re here.”
The lights on the meter flashed, and Blake’s breath came out in a rush. “It’s her. Wow.”
Sydney gripped his elbow. “Are you the one who’s been slamming the doors?”
The lights flickered again.
Relief loosened the tension in his chest. He could handle living with a nonviolent entity.
“Is there something you want us to know? If you speak into this device, we might be able to hear your voice.” She set the recorder on the table, and Blake stilled, straining to hear the disembodied voice.
The clank of metal hitting concrete echoed behind them, and a frigid breeze whipped across his face, taking the static charge in the air with it. Blake gasped as the heaviness lifted, the spirit’s exodus leaving the air empty and dry.
“Uh, guys?” Jason aimed the camera at the culpable object lying on the floor. “Can we debunk this?”
Blake strode toward the item that fell and stopped cold, his heart lodging in his throat. The hatchet used by The Axeman murderer lay at his feet. Oh, hell. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.
Sydney snatched the weapon from the floor and ran her meter over it, frowning. Eric approached with another device, but no lights or beeping noises sounded. She lay the hatchet in a box and wiped her hand on her jeans. “It probably fell on its own. It was sitting on the edge of the case.”
Blake pressed his lips together, hoping to God his face held a neutral expression.
“It wouldn’t have been hard for a spirit to knock it off, if it was paranormal.” Jason turned off the camera. “Maybe Bernadette was trying to show us how she died.”
“I bet that’s what it was.” Eric turned on a lantern, casting the room in a dim yellow glow. “Syd had just asked her if there was something she wanted us to know. If she couldn’t form words, that would be the next best way to get our attention.”
Their logic made sense, but Blake couldn’t fight the feeling that they were explaining all this for his benefit…trying not to scare him. “Or it could have been The Axeman himself.”
“Nah.” Eric shook his head. “No way.”
“We’d have picked up a lot more energy if the spirit were malevolent.” Sydney rubbed Blake’s arm.
“Yeah.” Jason put the camera on a table. “And ghosts can’t hurt the living.”
“That’s not what Sydney told me.”
Sydney shrugged. “He’s part of the team now. No use in sugarcoating things for him.”
Eric looked at Jason. “Remember the time in the ballroom? Old Mrs. Deveraux went to sit in a chair, and Eli yanked it out from under her. She broke her tailbone.”
Jason nodded. “I remember.”
“Eli is a ghost that haunts the Maison Des Fleurs,” Sydney said. “He gets ornery, but that’s the only time he’s ever hurt anyone.”
“All it takes is once.” And if The Axeman were there in the museum, once could be a hatchet to the chest.
“This wasn’t The Axeman,” Sydney said. “Seriously, I’d be shocked if it were him.”
He looked into her eyes, searching for any signs of a lie, but he found complete honesty in her gaze. If a seasoned professional like her didn’t think the ghost was a murderer, who was he to contradict her? “Good to know.” He raked a hand through his hair and let out a relieved chuckle, dissolving the tension in the room. “That was actually pretty cool, wasn’t it?”
Sydney laughed. “It doesn’t matter how many times we do this. Getting a response that we can record is always cool.” She pressed play on the recorder and held it to her ear. “We didn’t get any audible responses. You got the K-II on camera, right, Jason?”
“Every bit of it.”
She nodded. “Good. We can use it in the video presentation. This piece is an eye-catcher. I think it should go right in the middle. It’ll draw people in. What do you think, Blake?” Her eyes sparkled in the dim light, and for the first time since he saw her on the ghost tour, she seemed genuinely excited about the project.
“Sounds perfect.”
After the investigation, Sydney lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling fan hanging unmoving above her. Though it was three a.m., and she should have been sleeping like a normal person, her mind raced, and her restless legs wouldn’t still.
The usual rush from a successful investigation should have worn off by now, but after spending so much time with Blake—especially the time they’d spent alone before the investigation—the adrenaline felt like it would never subside.
She still had feelings for him. Whether the old flames never completely extinguished, or the fire was starting anew, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t look at the man without melting inside. Every time he caught her gaze during the investigation, she’d wanted to call it. To take him upstairs and erase the eight years they’d spent apart, jumping right back
in where they’d left off.
“That’s a bad idea, Syd.” She dragged her hands down her face.
If she and Blake were going to get back together, they had to take it slow. Get to know each other as friends and coworkers before they moved forward with anything romantic. It was the logical thing to do.
It would be a lot easier if his deep blue eyes didn’t pierce her soul every time he looked at her.
That damn premonition was another factor to consider. Something or someone was going to die, whether metaphorically or literally, and she had made zero progress figuring it out.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, relaxing her muscles and slipping into the meditative state that had become second nature to her. With her mind clear, she focused on what could be, willing the blue and gold kaleidoscope to sparkle in her peripheral.
A quick sinking sensation tugged her under, and the cemetery came into view below her. Curious. She’d never floated above the scene in this vision before.
The view gave her a wider angle, but most of the cemetery was blurred or clouded like before. She saw the coffin, the dark brown lid closed, golden handles glinting in the sunlight on the sides of the casket.
She tried to concentrate on the people around the scene, but she couldn’t bring their faces into focus. Blurry silhouettes populated this vision, save for Sean and Eric standing off to the side. She pushed forward, rotating the scene in her mind to focus on her friends, and another face came into view: Trish.
Curiouser and Curiouser. Her three friends stood side by side, mourning something, but Sydney herself was nowhere to be found. As she panned the scene to search for more details, the familiar sinking sensation pulled her further down, the scenery dissolving into inky darkness. Her feet touched pavement in the vision, and a horn blared behind her. She spun and glimpsed headlights a split second before the kaleidoscope eclipsed her vison, throwing her consciousness back into her bedroom.
Chapter Nine
Love & Omens Page 9
