“He has to interview the family that lives there, get information and all that. You should know this since you’re the Ghost Adventures junkie.”
“It’s research, Mary, research.” Truthfully, I just like the show. There are some creepy moments that really are unexplainable. Most of those shows are junk, but it’s the only one I’ll give any credit to.
“Uh-huh.” Mary stares pointedly at my shirt, and I look down. A long yellow stain smears the front of it. The hot dog I grabbed for lunch. I hope to God no one noticed it in class. My luck, though, they did. Dang it.
“Don’t worry, I’m changing.”
Mary goes back to her room while I start rummaging around in what little clean clothes I have left. This is definitely going to be an interesting afternoon. Chances are there are no actual ghosts, and everything can be explained, but then again, you never know.
Either way, we’ll know soon enough.
Chapter Three
Jacob Eric Owens. My Mirror Boy.
The ghost in the mirror that nearly killed me the first time we met.
He ended up saving me not once, but twice. I reaped his soul to defeat a ghost that was killing me. I thought he was gone forever until Jake Owens, my ex-boyfriend, was shot by his psychotic brother. When I went to see Jake in the hospital, I knew his soul was gone. He was just an empty shell. The reaper in me sensed it, and I had an idea. When I reaped Eric’s soul, it stayed with me, and there sat Jake’s empty body. Why not transfer Eric’s soul into it? I didn’t know if it would work or not, but I tried, and to my amazement, it did.
For once, the powers that be didn’t chastise me for using the gifts I was given. Eric got a family who would love him forever, and Jake’s parents got their son back. The doctor’s told them he had amnesia, and they accepted the Jake they knew may never come back, but they’d love the new Jake as much as they did the old one.
He’s leaning against my car when Mary and I emerge from our dorm. Spiky brown hair and eyes so blue they can make the cloudless sky weep from envy greet us. He takes no notice of the girls ogling him. It only makes them want him more.
“Hathaway, I was on a date.”
It’s still unsettling to hear Jake’s voice when Eric speaks. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.
“It couldn’t have been much of a date if you’re here instead of there.” I unlock the car and get in.
Eric beats Mary to the front seat. She shoots him an annoyed look but doesn’t argue. She leans between the seats and programs the GPS. I’m not familiar with the area she’s plugged in. Even though we’ve been in New Orleans for over a year, I haven’t explored it as much as I want to. Neither of us was in any shape to leave the house for the first few months, and after that, I just didn’t want to deal with the random ghosts.
“She was cute enough, but I was starting to get bored.” He turns the radio on, slapping Mary’s hand when she tries to lean forward and change the channel. “Seatbelt!”
She rolls her eyes but buckles up. “Which girl was it this time?”
He slouches at her question. “Just a girl from my English lit class.”
“The redhead?” Mary checks her phone, her tone idle, but I know better. She’s digging for information.
“Maybe.”
“So, why were you bored? If it’s the redhead, I know her. She’s smart and funny.”
“Can we drop it?”
“Why do you want to drop it?” Mary pushes herself as far forward as the seatbelt allows. “Maybe because you really want to ask out the guy in our physics class? The hottie with the phoenix tattoo?”
His face flames up, and I barely suppress a laugh. Eric woke up in Jake’s body with a newfound sense of how hot the guys around him are, much to his dismay. Eric was straight before he died, but Mary and I both think Jake wasn’t. Since Eric is now in Jake’s body, he inherited certain tendencies, from Jake’s deep and abiding love of fried pickles to his closet sexuality. Eric has not been handling it well.
“Shut up, Mary.” The low growl that emits from him doesn’t deter her.
“It’s not like anybody cares who you like or who you don’t. We just want you to be happy.”
“So, harassing me about…about that is making me happy?” He turns to look out the window, ignoring her.
“I’ve never had a brother before, and from what everyone tells me, it’s mandatory for the big sister to harass her irritating little brother.”
That gets his attention. He turns around in his seat and looks at her, his eyes unreadable. “You think of me as your brother?”
“Of course. Same as Em is my sister. The three of us, we’re family.”
I know what he’s thinking. Mary will never be able to understand what those words mean to a foster kid. We grew up, shuffled from one home to another, never having anything permanent. What she’s offering him is more precious than any material thing he’ll ever possess. Family, love, acceptance. Mr. and Mrs. Owens are great, but they love him, thinking he’s Jake. Mary’s offering him acceptance as himself, even if that comes with calling him on his nonsense.
“Thank you, Mary.”
She shrugs, her smile lighting up her face. “Just don’t embarrass me in front of Wade.”
“Wade? Who’s Wade?”
“He’s the one who invited us on the ghost hunt.” She types a quick message on her phone. “So, be nice.”
“Do I need to be all brotherly?” he asks, his eyebrows diving down into a severe frown. His attempt to look serious. Uh, not so much. He looks like he’s in need of a bathroom instead.
“God, no. Just…just be normal.”
I let out a chuckle at this. None of us are normal.
“Well, as normal as we can be,” Mary amends when she hears me laughing.
“So, ghost hunting?” Eric settles back into his seat and focuses on me. “Are you going along to see if there are ghosts roaming around?”
“Nope. I’m going because Mary didn’t want to go by herself. They don’t know what…wait, they don’t know about me, do they?”
“Of course not. I didn’t tell him I can hear ghosts either.” Mary rolls her eyes like we should realize she wouldn’t be spilling family secrets to strangers.
“Are they some kind of club you joined or something?” Eric yawns.
“No. Wade has his own YouTube channel about paranormal investigations he’s done.”
“Great. A wannabe YouTuber who thinks they’re gonna be the next big star.” Eric can’t hide his disgust any more than I could.
“He’s got over a hundred thousand subscribers.” Mary sounds defensive, and I shoot Eric a warning look. He’s not going to ruin this for her.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” The GPS is announcing we’ll reach our destination on the right any second now. It’s not at all what I expected. We’re in one of the nicer neighborhoods near the Garden District, not the rundown, abandoned places that look haunted closer to the outskirts of town. Kids are playing in well-kept, manicured lawns like there’s not a worry in the world. Not your usual hotspot for a ghost.
The house is a ranch style brick home with large white columns gracing the front porch entrance, giving it more of that Creole character the city is famous for. There are lots of windows, and the roof looks new. A yellow tricycle rests upside down on the lawn. A black Toyota Tundra sits in the driveway next to a new Ford Focus. An older looking Honda is parked behind them, and I pull in next to it. A van is idling on the sidewalk in front of the house. The garage door is down, and I wonder if there’s another vehicle hiding from the heat in there.
It looks lived in and well cared for. The poor people are probably hearing pipes or something groan in the night.
“I know I haven’t been a ghost in a while, but this is not one of our usual hangouts.” Eric gets out and eyeballs the place skeptically. “This is swanky.”
Compared to some of the places he and I lived, this is a swanky place, even though it’s probably considered your average m
iddle-class home. Mary lived in a place like this growing up.
Doors opening and closing catch our attention. Three guys pile out of the van I’d noticed earlier. The grin on Mary’s face tells me the one hurrying over is Wade. He’s not bad looking. Brown eyes and dishwater blond hair cut to look messy. I can barely stop the eye roll. The boy is trying too hard. Eli pulled off that same look effortlessly.
And just like that, a wave of grief hits so hard it almost cripples me. He’s been gone a year now, and I still can’t think about him without feeling like all the air around me turns stale and thin. It hurts so much.
Eric slips an arm around me, knowing without even asking what’s wrong. I lean into him and watch Mary greet her new crush. It helps to ease the sudden pain clenching my heart.
She’s gushing, a sure sign she’s invested.
“You okay, Hathaway?” His breath tickles my ear. I used to have a crush on Eric. He’d kissed me on my birthday when he was still a ghost. He’d body jumped a guy to be able to do it. Eli and Dan changed all that for me. Eric is just Eric now, my best friend in the entire world. There are no feelings there aside from friendship.
“It’s his hair. It just took me by surprise.”
“Eli rocked it better.” Eric gives me a squeeze. “Mary’s really into this guy, huh?”
“Yeah, so be nice. This is the first time since…” I break off, as unable to talk about it out loud now as I was back then.
“I’m always nice.”
This earns him my best death stare. “Do we need to remember Sean from therapy?”
“He was a creeper hitting on both of you. Turns out I was right too. They admitted him after he went all stalkery on his girlfriend and tried to stab her. My brotherly senses started tingling. Had to protect my girls.”
“She meant it, you know.”
The stark awe on his face makes me smile. “I’ve never had a real family before. It’s…” This time it’s Eric who’s lost for words.
“I know.” I hug him a little tighter then straighten as Mary bounces over to us, Wade right beside her.
“Wade, this is my family. Emma and Eric.”
“You two twins or something?” Wade’s gaze bounces between us, and Eric and I burst out laughing.
Wade lifts an eyebrow questioningly.
“No, they’re not.” Mary rushes to explain. “You could say the three of us chose each other. We’re not related by blood.”
“That’s cool.” His voice wasn’t quite deep, but it wasn’t high either. “Family’s family, no matter how you come to be that way.”
That earns him a little more respect.
“Mary said you have your own YouTube show?” Eric releases me and leans against the car, crossing his arms. His blue eyes, usually friendly, seem a little more reserved. It’s way more effective than the furrowed brow.
A grin breaks out over Wade’s face. “We’re the Ghost Chasers online. We go in and investigate rumors of hauntings and things like that. It’s why we’re here at the Duchaines’ today. My cousin told me about what’s been happening to them and thought we might be able to help.”
I have to wonder if he’s ever come in contact with a real ghost. He’s too eager. Ghosts are dangerous and scary on the best days, and those are the ones that mean no harm. A ghost that’s been here too long after death and gone bad? It’s a person’s worst nightmare.
“Do you guys just record stuff, or do you do any actual extermination?” Eric asks, bringing my attention back to the conversation.
“We’re not Ghostbusters or anything.” This from one of the other guys who’s carrying a camera with a microphone attached to it. “You can’t trap them, but we talk and try to convince them to move on. Stuff like that.”
“And does it ever work?” This guy is cute. Black hair cut super short, but left a little longer on the top, glints in the sun as he shades his brown eyes. Eric’s noticed how cute he is too, only he tries to hide his reaction. Can’t hide it from me, though. I know him too well.
He turns those brown eyes on me with an appreciative look. “Sometimes.”
“This is our camera and sound guy, Ethan Cooper. Jordan Hershey,” Wade throws his thumb toward the van where Jordan is struggling with some heavy equipment, “is our computer tech.” The guy looks scrawny, his curly red hair flapping in the wind.
Eric frowns and pushes off the car to go give him a hand. He’s a football player and easily picks up the heavy cases. Jordan says something to him, and Eric nods, heading back our way.
Ethan is watching them, his face closed off, but I don’t miss the spark of interest before he shuts it down. Maybe Eric isn’t the only one running from feelings. This might be an interesting afternoon after all.
“Everyone ready to go in and meet the family?” Wade gestures toward the house.
“Sure,” I agree and follow them inside the very un-haunted house.
Chapter Four
The woman who answers the door is in her late twenties with blonde hair cut into a short, fashionable bob. Wary green eyes regard us. Good. I’m hoping at least one person in this house has some sense.
“Mrs. Duchaine?” Wade sticks out his hand. “I’m Wade Poole of Ghost Chasers. Your husband and I spoke on the phone yesterday about opening an investigation here.”
Her pink, gloss-covered lips flatten out into a frown. Someone is definitely not happy.
“I did not agree to this.”
Wade isn’t deterred. “That’s okay, ma’am. I know this probably seems ridiculous, but it’s only some questions today. Nothing invasive.”
“Who’s at the door, Hillary?”
A man with brown hair, holding a little girl of about two or three, comes to the door. His brown eyes take us in all at once. The smile on his face is a stark contrast to his wife’s.
“You must be Wade. Come in, come in.” He gently pulls his wife away from the doorway, and we pile in. While Wade and the Duchaines chat, I look around. Hardwood floors span the open concept of the main living area. It all looks new inside. Much nicer than the outside, honestly. There’s a definite white color scheme running throughout the living room-kitchen combination.
How they manage to keep this place spotless around a toddler is beyond me. The few times my foster homes had little ones in them, the place was always a mess, stains everywhere. This place looks pristine.
“I thought there were only three of you?” Mr. Duchaine’s question garners my full attention.
“They’re trainees,” Wade replies smoothly.
Eric and I look at each other. Trainees?
It’s all we can do to keep a straight face.
Trainees, indeed.
“Oh, I guess that’s okay.” The man runs a hand through his hair. “Where do you want to do this?”
“Wherever is most comfortable for you.” Wade’s smile reminds me of a car salesman, and the points he earned earlier dwindle slightly. I hate people who aren’t genuine. I’m pretty sure this guy is only after likes for his channel and not into helping this family.
Mary likes him, though, so I’ll keep my opinion to myself.
“Let’s use the dining room table.” Mr. Duchaine gestures toward the big oak table then goes and deposits his daughter behind a baby gate. He turns on some cartoons and checks to make sure there is nothing she could get hurt on.
The baby looks around apprehensively when her father leaves. It’s a strange expression for a toddler to wear. The first stirrings of unease tickle my spine. Maybe I’m wrong about this place, but so far nothing has jumped out at me except the little girl’s fear.
The guys set up the equipment, and Mary slides up next to me, nodding toward the little girl. “She’s afraid.”
“I know.”
“You see…?”
“You hear…?”
We both stop and shake our heads, neither of us sensing anything supernatural here.
“Girls!” Wade calls, and we reluctantly leave the little girl alone and join
them at the dining room table. Jordan’s head is bent over his laptop, and Ethan is behind the camera, explaining what he’s doing to Eric. I nudge Mary and tilt my head their way. She smiles but doesn’t make a fuss about it. Best to let that alone and see where it goes.
Wade is sitting across from Mrs. Duchaine, who looks about as uncomfortable as a cat in water. He presses record on a digital voice recorder sitting between them. Not sure why he needs it, since Ethan is recording the whole thing, but what do I know?
“This is Ethan Poole at the Duchaine home speaking. The date is August twenty-second, two thousand eighteen. We are entering our first interview session with Henry Duchaine and his wife Hillary. Mr. and Mrs. Duchaine, do you agree you are giving this interview freely and with no coercion on the part of the Ghost Chasers?”
They both give their verbal agreement.
“Can you tell me about the incidents you are experiencing?” Wade opens his notebook and clicks his pen, preparing to take notes.
“I guess it started the night we moved in.” Mr. Duchaine frowns, thinking hard. “We started noticing little things at first, nothing major.”
“What little things?”
“The lights would flicker, which was odd. We’d replaced all the wiring and the plumbing when we updated the house. There shouldn’t be any issues. Our electrician confirmed he couldn’t find anything when he checked it out.”
“So, the lights flickering, that happened more than once?”
Mr. Duchaine nods. “All the time, especially in Hailey’s room.”
“Hailey is your daughter?”
“She’s three.” Mrs. Duchaine finally speaks up.
“What else did you notice?”
He should have kept on that line of questioning, but I can only hope he goes back to it. Ghosts tend to migrate toward little kids. Their energy is pure and innocent.
“All the sinks in the house like to turn on by themselves. Sometimes it’s just a drip, other times, we find the faucet running full force. Plumber agreed with the electrician. There’s no reason for it.”
Classic signs of a haunting. Anyone can Google it, but I don’t think this couple did that. The wife looks upset and uncomfortable. She doesn’t want us here or knowing her business.
Destiny Page 72
