by AJ Sherwood
“Well, I know what you’re having for dinner,” Edmée drawled. “Here, food’s put up. Everyone grab bowls, get settled. What’ll you have to drink?”
“Water, please,” I requested. “I feel dehydrated after so long in that car.”
“It sure is a fine one,” she told me in admiration. “The FBI pays good, I see.”
“Well, it does, but that’s a company vehicle.” I ladled up a bowl, passed it to Brandon, then fixed myself some. Food and drinks were dispensed, all of us easing around each other in the galley kitchen.
We said grace around the table, Cali vibrating with the need to eat her strawberries, then dug in.
Brandon moaned in bliss around the spoonful in his mouth. Swallowing, he demanded of me, “You know how to make this?”
“Of course I do,” I answered, laughing. “Eat, cher. I promise to make some for you later.”
Edmée beamed at him, pleased he enjoyed her cooking so much. “Well. Seems jambalaya was a good choice. Have plenty, Brandon, I made a stew pot full.”
“I will,” he promised her gravely.
“Mack, you be careful while you’re down here not to get your maman’s hopes up,” Edmée cautioned suddenly. “She’s awful excited you’re here.”
I grimaced, despair rising in me. “Why? I’ve told her repeatedly I don’t want to move back down here.”
“Well, she didn’t take it seriously. She’s of the mind that with you back, you’ll realize you’ve missed the place. Not that you have much reason to.” Edmée looked at Brandon pointedly. “And I don’t think you two would be well received down here. Brandon can’t keep his hands off you and people won’t react well to that.”
“I know,” I grumbled, trying to not let this affect my appetite. Everyone around me could clearly see the situation for what it was. A Federal Agent, gay man, medium, and on top of that dating someone of a different culture? That would not go over well at all with the more prejudiced members of this community. Hell no. But my mother, of course, only saw that she had her baby boy in reach again. “I’ll make it clear. Again.”
“I’ll reinforce it.”
“Thanks,” I said with a crooked smile at her. Conversation flowed into what had been going on with friends and other family, until Edmée’s curiosity couldn’t take it anymore.
“But how did the two of you meet?”
“Spookem,” I answered with a laugh. “Brandon went through Arkansas on vacation, same town I was training in with Beau. He bought a snow globe for a friend for Christmas, and it turned out to be haunted. They called up the FBI to figure out what to do with it, then brought it up to Arkansas for me to handle.”
Edmée had a knowing look on her face. “And you two met and that was it?”
“More or less,” Brandon agreed between spoonfuls. “I took one look at him and absolutely knew I had to try for him. Then I realized he was the medium I was supposed to work with, and he went from attractive to downright sexy.”
Seeing Edmée’s doubt on that, I assured her dryly, “He truly loves anything supernatural. He’s not pulling your leg. But yes, after working the case together, we wanted to really give it a try. So I stayed with him as he finished up the training. It’s been a busy thirteen weeks, to say the least. But sounds like you were just as busy down here. Bed bugs, cousin, really? Were they that hard to get rid of?”
“Oh don’t get me started,” Edmée moaned, pulling a face. She started in on the disastrous situation in a joking manner, but it was clear it had been a nightmare to move out of the infested rental house and into this one, forcing her to lose most of her furniture in the process.
The conversation turned to other things, a happier note. It remained all light and easy until we had dinner eaten, dishes washed, and such.
Then Edmée turned to her daughter and said, “Time for PJs, mon trésor.”
Cali balked, her face turning both mutinous and scared. She shook her head firmly no, arms crossing over her chest.
Edmée looked up at me helplessly, hands splayed.
I couldn’t say I blamed the child. I wouldn’t want to go to bed either.
Brandon turned in his chair, leaning towards Cali with a serious face. “Cali, have you seen Ghostbusters?”
She tentatively nodded.
“Well, Mack and me, we’re real-life Ghostbusters. That’s what we’re here for. We’re going to find that mean ghost that’s scaring you and take care of him. I’ve got a special gun that can shoot him. You want to see it?”
Intrigued, she nodded again. Brandon scooped her up in one arm and carried her to the living room. As I watched from the doorway, he opened up one of the holsters, unsnapping it and showing her the Glock. “See? Looks dangerous, huh.”
Cali nodded again, touching the gun lightly with her fingers. “Shoot bad ghost?”
“I sure will. If Mack gives me a chance. He’s plenty mad, you know, said he wants to get rid of the ghost himself. So tonight, you’ve got protection. If that ghost comes to you again, you can scream, and we’ll come shoot it.”
Vicious satisfaction crossed Cali’s face. “Okay.”
“Okay? Good.” Turning his head, he informed Edmée, “I’ve got another pistol with holy water in it. I’ll let you have that for the time being, just in case.”
Edmée turned to me and said, “I can use it?”
“Sure. Anyone can. It’s the holy water doing the job.”
“Mama shoot it?” Cali liked this idea too, bouncing a little in Brandon’s arms.
“I’d certainly like the chance to try,” Edmée growled. “Brandon, thank you kindly. I’ll take it.”
Brandon handed it over butt first with a grin. “Had a feeling. You both stay in your room tonight, as you have been. We’ll be roaming the house and trying to find the source of this thing.”
“To that end,” I said, “let’s sit down and you tell me everything it’s been doing. The more I know, the better chance we have of hunting this thing.”
4
The house lay very still and quiet in the darkness. It neared ten o’clock, and it had taken a while for Cali to settle. The little girl was very excited and anxious for me to shoot the ghost, and getting her to fall asleep had been a real trick. Edmée looked done in, too, dark circles under her eyes.
We stood in Cali’s bedroom now, and Mack went through everything with a fine-tooth comb. Not much in there—a wooden box holding some toys, a child’s bed, a small dresser. I had my thermal goggles on and a Glock in hand, watching his back as he worked. I admit the little boy in me was really hoping to shoot something too.
Mack finally stood, a look of disgruntlement pulling his mouth down at the corners. “I don’t see anything with energy attached. And I can feel him watching, but he doesn’t seem at all inclined to come out right now.”
“What do you want to do? Try provoking?”
“Not just yet, cher. Most spirits need a day or two before they’re bold enough to come out and harass strangers in their territory. Let’s give this one some space.”
Mack was playing things cautiously because he didn’t want to provoke the ghost and cause further damage to Cali. I was of the same mind. “Alright. Where do you want to settle? Here?”
“Living room for a while. If we give him space, maybe he’ll come out.”
“Worth a shot.” I backed out of the room. This house felt uncomfortable to me. I wasn’t sure if it was the close quarters—I barely had head clearance in the house—or if it was the bad atmosphere the ghost had caused. Could be both. I retreated to the couch, and Mack came to snuggle in next to me. He normally cuddled if he could, and I encouraged this, but tonight he didn’t seem settled. Unnerved might be the word for it. He was ever-so-slightly tense while leaning against me.
“Edmée seems cool,” I offered.
“Always has been. I came out to her first, y’know. She hugged me and told me that it was alright, it didn’t change anything for her. And she’d always believed me about the gh
osts, too.” There was a smile in his voice.
“I can see why you said she was a favorite cousin, then.”
“Part of the reason, yeah.”
“What about Cali’s father?”
“Well, about the time Edmée hit eighteen, her mama died. She took it real hard, as they were two peas in a pod. About that time, she met him—he seduced her, basically. Edmée was in trade school at the time, and they met on a construction job. We all tried to get her to ditch him, but he could be sweet if he was of a mind to. Not that the mood struck him often. He was always drunk and verbally abusive. When Edmée got pregnant, he kicked her out, and that was the last we saw of him. She stayed with my mama while she was pregnant with Cali, as the pregnancy was rough.”
“Wow. Nice guy.”
“He ain’t winning any prizes, that’s for sure.”
I pondered that and really, as hard as it was to be a single mother, it sounded like Edmée and Cali both were well shed of him.
A quiet click sounded in the darkness and my head snapped around as I tracked it.
“What?” Mack whispered urgently, also sitting up.
“Just heard a door open.”
The padding of feet was soft on the carpet and I had a hunch who it was. Cali’s head popped into view, and she stared at us uncertainly.
“Can’t sleep, kiddo?” I asked her.
Cali nodded and took my question as permission to come in closer. Or maybe she wasn’t waiting for permission. She crawled right up into my lap as if she owned it, tugging her baby blanket up with her, a very well-loved stuffed frog in her hands. I put an arm around her as her head pillowed on my chest. Complicated emotions of sympathy and anger twirled in me. The cuddling was cute, but I hated that she was so scared she came out for protection.
“Did you see something?” Mack asked her, a thread of hardness in his tone.
She shook her head, burrowing into me harder. “Want Brandon.”
“I share the feeling, mon angé,” Mack drawled.
“Awww. I feel loved.” I grinned down at the top of her head then at the cute brunette tucked in on my other side. I would not be able to respond quickly if some threat did pop up, but at the moment, giving them attention seemed a higher priority.
Mack looked up at me, eyebrows lifted slightly in question. “Do children normally just climb on you?”
“It’s about fifty-fifty odds. Kids do this to Don too. They’re either terrified of us because of our height, or they look at us like an organic jungle gym. I don’t get much of a middle-ground response.”
“You don’t seem to mind it much.”
“Naw. Kids are cute and if they’re climbing me, I figure they’re safe.” I looked down at the little heater curled up in my lap. Cali looked gravely back up at me. Her eyes were drooping, and she was clearly tired but stubbornly staying awake. “Cali, the bad ghost who’s trying to drag you out of bed. Did he say anything to you?”
She nodded, voice barely more than a whisper. “Said his house and go away.”
Mack went taut. “You tell your mama that?”
“No,” she said, curling tighter into a ball.
I figured, or Edmée would have passed that on. “Cali, that’s a good clue for us. Helps us find the ghost. Thanks for telling us.”
She uncurled and gave me that serious look again. “Okay?”
“Anything you tell us helps,” Mack assured her gently. “Because you’ve seen him. I haven’t. I don’t know what to look for. Make sense?”
Cali nodded but didn’t add anything else, snuggling her face further into her blanket and my chest. I really didn’t know how she was breathing in that position.
I exchanged a look with Mack. Now this was an interesting turn. The situation might not be what we’d assumed. “If he’s saying it’s his house….”
“Odds are he’s not attached to something they picked up and brought in,” Mack finished, staring around the living room with new eyes. “He’s been here all along, and them moving in got him riled up.”
“But why her room and not her mother’s?”
“Now that, cher, is a good question. I don’t have an answer for it. My first thought is he’s somehow connected to the house itself, which is why salting the window and doors didn’t do any good. But that doesn’t explain Edmée’s room. And there’s nothing different in Edmée’s room.”
We’d searched her room first, and Mack had beefed up the defenses before Edmée and Cali gone to bed. It had been a normal woman’s bedroom, although disorganized with the hasty move in. Literally nothing in there to guard against ghosts except the salt. It really didn’t make any sense.
“Only thing I can think of is that he’s tied to something particular,” Mack mused. “A particular feature of the house, or something buried in the walls. I’ve seen that play out a time or two.”
“Something that’s actually in the walls? Or under the floor of the room? It sounds plausible but it’d mean demoing the room to prove it one way or another.”
Mack made an agreeing noise, brows still furrowed as he thought hard. “Not my first choice, cher, I do admit. This is a rental. We don’t want to cause damage if we don’t have to. It does mean this might turn into a bit of a waiting game.”
“Yeah, that’s okay. As long as we can keep them safe in the meantime, I think that’s fine. We don’t have a deadline here.”
“True enough. Although we do have that other case to tackle as well.”
“Juggling it is going to be fun. But maybe if we get that other team in here, they can help us figure out the cause here too.”
“Depends on how fast they can get in. Still haven’t heard from Sylvia and that’s not a good sign.”
I grimaced. Yeah, that wasn’t a good sign at all.
There weren’t many people in the Paranormal Activity Division. Part of it was skill—not many mediums could pass their tests. Part of it was the insane hours the FBI agents worked on a regular basis. Not many people chose a fifty- or sixty-hour work week. Agents didn’t keep bankers’ hours. Those two factors cut a lot of people out of the running.
There were a little over a hundred people in the department. That included anchors and supervisors. Because we were so small, we didn’t really have a central office or city we were all based out of. Instead, mediums and their anchors were spread out all over the US in whatever city the FBI either had an office in, or a vested interest in. It had its pros and cons, and one of the cons was that you didn’t always have help nearby. Traveling was part of the game.
Odds were that whoever Sylvia wanted to pull in to help us had something to finish off first before coming. I didn’t expect to see anyone in the foreseeable future.
A soft snore drew my eyes back down. Cali had her head tipped back, mouth wide open, and she was out like a light. It always amazed me how children could fall asleep sitting upright. And be truly, deeply asleep. When did I lose that ability? I sure couldn’t do it as an adult. In fact, I think I want that talent back. That would be super useful.
Edmée came into view, and she took in the sight of her sleeping daughter draped over my lap with exasperation. “I didn’t even hear her leave, that scamp. She kept asking where you and Mack were. I expected this.”
I found it interesting she’d gravitated to me so quickly. Children were funny that way. They either liked you or they didn’t. “Want to take her?”
The young mother came forward and, with practiced skill, transferred the sleeping toddler into her own arms. She stood for a moment, watching Cali sleep, before asking softly, “Anything yet?”
“No,” Mack answered in a gentle tone. “But I expected as much. Ghosts rarely want to play the first night. This might take a few days.”
Nodding, Edmée assured him, “It’s alright. You’re always welcome. If there’s nothing happening tonight, go to bed.”
“We’ll stay up a bit longer and then we will,” he answered.
Satisfied, she retreated back to her bedroo
m, the door softly closing behind her.
“Why don’t I get the air mattress blown up and everything situated while we’re waiting?” I offered. Mack looked done in too, not that I was about to say so. He took pride in being able to work and work hard—staying awake and sharp was part of that. I’d learned that one the hard way.
Nodding, he encouraged me to go, then stood in such a way that he could face the hallway and both bedroom doors. He stared intently, head canted slightly to the side, as if listening for something.
The mattress had one of those hand pumps—nothing electronic in Jon’s camping gear, that was for sure—so I set about blowing it up. It took a while, as was expected, then I zipped the two sleeping bags together. No sense in staying individual, and I liked it when Mack tucked himself in against me.
Of course, he asked, “You think we’ll have enough room with them zipped together like that?”
I shot him a lecherous grin over my shoulder. “We don’t need much space, right?”
His lips compressed, like he was fighting a smile, then he turned to look at the hallway again before responding. “That’s a point, cher. I suppose I don’t have to worry about explaining anything to the girls.”
“Edmée’s old enough to know, and Cali’s at the age where falling asleep next to someone is natural.” Finished, I tossed the sleeping bags on and then rustled up two pillows. I returned to his side and peered over his head. “Anything?”
“No.” Mack blew out a breath. “He’s not stirring as long as I’m up. Not tonight, leastways. Let’s go to bed, cher.”
So that’s what we did. We both changed into comfy basketball shorts and t-shirts first, as we were heartily sick of being in jeans. I ran hot so I normally didn’t wear anything heavy to bed. Sharing a bed with Mack only encouraged this habit.
I climbed in first and Mack slid in next to me. He pillowed his head on my outstretched arm, his free hand resting on my waist. With a deep breath out, he settled, and I could feel the tensions of the day leave him. Not completely, but he relaxed some.
My heart ached sometimes for Mack. We were only thirteen weeks into dating, so I couldn’t claim I knew everything about him, but the pattern of his flinches was quite telling. He fought me hard sometimes about accepting my help. He had this line separating what was acceptable and unacceptable. Work-related help was acceptable. Anything outside of that, it was like I hit a brick wall. He honestly didn’t know how to accept it.
