by Brenda Hill
Katie hesitated in the foyer and exchanged a knowing glance with Sharon, and when they entered the parlor, both investigators paused.
“Here’s where it happened,” Sharon said, and Katie nodded.
“Sharon’s claircognizant,” Katie explained to her client. “That’s the ability to know things. I’m more of an empath, which means I just know, or feel, the emotions of the spirit. I’d like to take a few moments and talk to the spirit, to let him know we’re not here to harm him or try to force anything he doesn’t want.”
Fascinated, Lindsay watched as Katie walked to the center of the room. Her team grew quiet.
“Hello,” Katie said, turning in all directions. “I’m Katie, and I want you to know that my team and I want to help you, that we’re not here to harm you in any way. We have equipment to receive any messages you might have for us or for the owner, Lindsay Peterson.” She went silent as if waiting. Then she shook her head. “I’m not getting anything from him, but if it helps, I don’t feel he’s a threat.”
Lindsay had known that in her heart, but it was good to have Katie confirm it.
Joyce took a piece of equipment from her tote.
“An EMF meter,” Katie explained while Joyce held it and moved it slowly in the air. Nearly square, the blackish instrument had a digital readout at the top. “It measures electromagnetic fields in the area.”
Lindsay frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“The theory is that spirits draw energy from the surroundings to manifest, and when one is present, it gives off an electromagnetic field which can be measured. The higher the energy, the stronger the presence.”
“One point zero three,” Joyce called out, waving the instrument at different levels, “two point three four.”
Ken silently texted on his android.
“We’ll check for wiring and fuse boxes to make sure we’re not picking up readings from normal household currents,” Katie told him, then turned to Lindsay. “Which reminds me. Thanks for avoiding perfume or scented lotions this evening. Some of our women clients forget, and it’s difficult to detect phantom smells.”
“If he shows up, you won’t have a problem with his scent.”
“The Bay Rum you mentioned,” Katie confirmed. She looked around the room. “Where’s a good place to put our equipment, somewhere easily accessed during the investigation?”
“How about the dining room table? It’s big enough.” Lindsay led the team into the dining room where they unloaded their bags onto the table. She noticed several cameras, two-way radios, and other pieces of equipment she didn’t recognize.
“Why not show us the hot spots?” Katie suggested. “Places you’ve seen something unusual. Shadows perhaps, or flickering lights.”
Lindsay led the team through the rooms where the scent had been the strongest—the foyer, parlor, dining room, bedroom, the attic, and even the bathroom. Ken followed closely, his fingers flying on his android.
“His way of taking notes,” Katie explained with a smile. “He texts faster than he can write.”
Ken reddened, shrugged, then after the tour, he busied himself placing video cameras in the rooms with the most activity.
Lindsay led them back to the parlor for the refreshments she’d prepared. Even though Katie had told her over the phone it wasn’t necessary, the team thanked her for the cut fruit, chips, nuts, water, and colas. Ken quietly devoured everything the rest of the team hadn’t grabbed and looked as if he could down several more plates. Lindsay liked his gentle nature and considered making some sandwiches for him.
Just as she opened the fridge, Katie spoke.
“It’ll be dark soon,” she addressed the team, “so let’s make sure everything’s in working order.” Everyone checked batteries in their flashlights and the other equipment.
“One way we first suspect a spirit is present is when our batteries die,” she told Lindsay. “Since they need energy to manifest, they drain energy from batteries and other power sources. That’s why you’ll often see flickering lights, although they sometimes do that to get your attention.”
About fifteen minutes later, Katie stood. “Okay, we’re ready. Ken, get the lights.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You turn out the lights just like on the program,” Lindsay remarked.
“The darkness tends to heighten our senses,” Katie told her, selecting a flashlight and one other instrument. “And for some reason we haven’t fully realized, spirits seem to gather more energy after dark.”
Lindsay helped Ken with the house lights, then they joined the team in the dining room. Each member picked a flashlight and at least one other device. Ken took the digital camera.
“A cool camera,” he said. “Modified for the full spectrum of light people can’t see.”
“You might actually get a photo of the ghost?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t always happen. If it does, don’t expect to see someone’s shape. It’s usually a blur. You’ll see—if they’re here and if they want to be seen.” As if he’d run out of breath, he grew quiet and busied himself with the camera.
Of course Galen would want to be seen. He’d made himself known to Lindsay ever since she first appeared on the property, so he couldn’t have any objection to being seen—even if it was just a blur. It would be proof he was there, proof she wasn’t being ridiculous as Eric had said. Evidence that there truly was someone or something causing the touches and caresses she’d felt, someone behind the dreams and whisperings she’d been hearing. Proof she wasn’t going insane.
“Should I stay here,” she asked Katie, “or is it okay if I go with you?”
“Whatever you prefer, but make sure your phone’s off. Same with your TV. We don’t want contamination from background noise.”
“Give me five minutes.” The TV wasn’t on, but Lindsay checked her cell and the house phone’s ringer, then ran back to the parlor hoping she hadn’t missed anything.
Katie had selected two pieces of equipment. “I’ll start with these.”
The first device was rectangular in shape with a digital readout at the top. “An EVP recorder—electronic voice phenomenon. If we’re lucky, we may be able to pick up a word or two from the spirit. We can’t always hear them with our ears, but if they say something, the recorder will pick it up and we can hear when we play it back.”
“You can actually hear the spirit talking?”
“If he or she chooses to speak.”
His voice. Lindsay could almost hear it again, the deep, rich tones that dipped even lower when they’d gazed into each other’s eyes and he’d moaned her name, the voice that had whispered words of a love that would never die. More than anything, she wanted to hear it again, but how would she react? She supposedly was this harried homeowner plagued with a haunting. If she heard him speak, would she be able to maintain that façade, or would she crumble with love and longing like an adolescent schoolgirl swooning over a teen idol?
But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except hearing his voice. She felt the desperate need rising until she trembled with excitement.
Katie picked up another device about the size of a cordless phone, gray with five colored strips—two greens, a yellow, orange, and red. Each led to a button on the edge. “A K2 meter,” she explained. “Measures shifts in energy levels around us. When a spirit is present, a buzzer and a light display lets us know. If we’re very lucky, we can communicate with the spirit.”
“How?”
“You’ll see it if it happens.”
For the next hour, two teams took turns moving through the house while Joyce monitored the video camera from the dining room computer. Katie and Lindsay went first, beginning with the downstairs. To Lindsay’s disappointment, everything stayed pretty quiet—the foyer where she’d first noticed the Bay Rum scent, the dining room window where she’d heard faint whisperings.
“Don’t get discouraged,” Katie said. “It’s early, and we still have the upstairs to invest
igate.”
Lindsay hoped Galen would manifest upstairs, or at least reveal himself in a way the team could detect. But there was nothing. Not in the bathroom where she’d felt his presence in the tub, nor in her bedroom where she’d dreamed of life in the past. No scent, no fluctuating meter readings, nothing. Lindsay tried not to show her frustration, but Katie must have sensed it.
“It’s okay. We may or may not get anything tonight. It just depends on what the spirit wants.”
“But I don’t understand. I was sure he’d want to let us know he’s here.”
She paused. Was she sure he’d want that? She had been so positive he would show himself in some way, show some kind of proof he was there. But he had not. Why?
Was he hiding? Or simply not there? She nearly cried with disappointment.
Then it hit her. Maybe Galen didn’t want proof. Maybe he only wanted to communicate with her. While she could understand, she had desperately wanted to hear his voice.
“Oh, Galen …”
Katie looked sharply at her. “You know the spirit?”
By this time, Lindsay no longer cared if Katie knew more. It might even be better. Someone had to know enough to help her.
“I think it may be the former owner’s fiancée.” She explained what Shirley had told her, still with no mention of her physical contacts with the ghost, and certainly nothing about a past life. “I know he must want something, but if he doesn’t appear tonight, I don’t know how to find out.”
Katie listened quietly. “If the spirit chooses to not make himself known tonight, I have another suggestion for you—if you’re interested.”
“Anything.”
“Make an appointment for a private reading. You could make it with Sharon, me, or another medium, but you might discover more than tonight’s investigation might reveal.”
At this point Lindsay was desperate enough to try anything. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Katie nodded. “Since we’re all here now, let’s continue with tonight’s investigation. We’ll take a break and let Sharon and Ken have a turn. Who knows, the spirit may surprise us yet.”
At the dining room table, Lindsay felt too edgy to sit. She had something to drink, then watched the computer screen with Joyce. Everything was quiet, too quiet, and Lindsay was losing hope.
The other team made their way back to the dining room. Sharon shook her head.
“I don’t understand why nothing’s happening,” Lindsay, near tears, said to Katie. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
“On-site experience is never wasted. And you’re welcome to call us if activity begins again.” The team began to dismantle their equipment. Katie silently gazed at Lindsay. “Off the record, though, I think you’re right.”
“I agree,” Sharon said. “Something is here. Male.”
“Do you get anything else?” Katie asked.
“Just flashes,” Sharon said, “but they’re quickly gone. He’s not willing to reveal himself.”
Lindsay nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she’d break down.
“Look,” Katie turned to Lindsay. “If you’ve felt his presence, why not say something to him now? It might encourage him to reveal himself in some way.”
As much as she would love to talk to him, to ask him why he was silent, Lindsay felt uncomfortable doing so in front of someone else.
Still, it was worth a try. At least these people believed her.
“Hello,” she said awkwardly. After an encouraging nod from Katie, she continued, still ill at ease, but her voice grew stronger. “Galen, are you here? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Katie checked the EVP recorder. “Maybe we’ll get something.”
They both waited a few moments, but nothing happened.
Then, they heard a slight thump from upstairs. Katie and Lindsay exchanged glances. It sounded again, louder this time. They headed for the stairs, but on the second-floor landing, they heard nothing more. They waited. Just as Lindsay was giving up hope, a slight Bay Rum scent wafted from the attic.
“He’s here!” Lindsay took to the stairs with Katie close behind.
They rushed into the room, and Katie used her flashlight to search the area. Even as they stood, the Bay Rum scent grew stronger.
“Smell it?” Lindsay asked.
Katie whispered into her two-way radio. “Everyone to the attic. Now.”
Lindsay walked the room, her arms spread joyfully. “You’re here, you’re finally here.”
When Katie’s flashlight beam hit the painting, she stepped in front of it.
“You did this?” She studied it. “It’s him, isn’t it? You’ve seen him.”
“In dreams …”
“It’s him.”
Sharon, followed by the other two members, spilled into the attic. The scent was strong now, and Ken made frantic notes.
“Thank you, thank you,” Lindsay whispered.
Moonlight from the window didn’t dispel the shadows. The temperature dropped.
“Man, it’s dark in here.” Sharon pointed her EMF meter in different directions and read off the increasing numbers.
Joyce walked the room holding a small instrument with a reddish tip. She stopped in the northwest corner near the portrait. “We’ve got a cold spot, nearly a twenty-degree drop.”
“An infrared thermometer,” Katie told Lindsay. “Theory is when a spirit/ghost tries to manifest, it draws heat energy around the area and that causes a cold spot.”
“Something moved,” Sharon said. “In that corner.” She directed her flashlight beam to the northwest corner. Ken started filming, scanning the room with his camera.
“Let’s try an EVP session.” Katie activated the K2 meter.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Is anyone here?” Katie asked, watching the LED buttons on her K2 meter.
Lindsay moved close, her eyes on the meter. But even though the scent had grown stronger, the device showed no response.
“Who are you?” Katie asked. “Why are you here? Is there anything you’d like to say to the owner?”
Still nothing.
“Galen,” Lindsay murmured. “Please …”
The meter sprang to life. All five LED buttons blazed with light, blinking in rotation several times before stopping.
“We got him,” Katie whispered to Lindsay. A series of flashes from behind Katie lit up the room. Without turning, Katie whispered to Ken, “Did you set up a video camera in here?”
“Didn’t have enough, but maybe I’ll get something on the digital.”
Katie addressed the room again. “Thank you for responding. The homeowner thinks you may be a gentleman who died in this house. Is that true?”
No response. She tried again.
“Will you talk to us?”
Still nothing.
“We don’t want to hurt you. We just want to know who you are and why you’re here.”
Lindsay couldn’t seem to look away from the LED lights, and the lack of response was devastating. She’d hoped to learn why he lingered in the house and more about her connection to him, but he didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
“A male spirit is in the room with us,” Sharon murmured.
Lindsay stepped to the portrait. “Why won’t you communicate with us? Please, I need to know …”
The K2 went wild again.
“Looks like he’ll only respond to you, Lindsay, so go ahead. Talk to him. Ask questions and we’ll see if he answers.”
“He might answer? How?”
Katie indicated the meter. “If he’ll cooperate, we hope to communicate with him through it.”
She turned to the crew. “Okay guys, turn off all equipment.” She explained to Lindsay, “That’s to eliminate other possible frequency sources.”
She cleared her throat and held out the K2 meter. “Lindsay wants to talk to you, and with this piece of equipment, you can communicate with her.”
The first button, green, briefly lit with a faint glow.
Then it was gone.
“I’ll have Lindsay talk to you, but first, to make sure we can communicate, would you light up the meter for me now?”
Nothing happened.
“I understand you want to talk to Lindsay, but if you’ll light up the meter now, once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no,’ we’ll know it’s you and not a malfunction. Then she’ll talk to you. Do you understand?”
Everyone concentrated on the K2, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, like plugging in Christmas tree lights, all the LED buttons lit up.
“Just to make sure, am I talking to the spirit present in this house?” Again, everyone watched the lights. And again, they all lit up.
He was going to talk. Lindsay hadn’t noticed she’d been holding her breath until the meter lit up.
“Thank you,” Katie said. “I’ll turn it over to Lindsay now.” The meter lit once. Katie showed Lindsay how to keep the device activated.
Lindsay had so many questions that her mind felt in a jumble. She wanted to know everything, but she couldn’t keep Katie’s team that long, nor could she be certain Galen would fully cooperate. But as she’d learned when beginning to paint, stick to the basics.
“Are you Galen?”
After a slight pause, the meter lit once. A surge of joy rippled through her.
“Why are you here? What do you want?”
The meter lit once, then twice, then once again. Lindsay looked questioningly at Katie.
“Just ask yes or no questions,” she said. “He can’t answer any other way.”
Of course. Lindsay tried again. “Did you die in this house?”
The meter answered once.
“I’m sorry,” Lindsay said. “Was it natural causes?”
No.
Lindsay paused, wondering how to phrase the next question. “Was someone in my husband’s family responsible?”
Yes.
A coldness rippled through Lindsay. His answers coincided with her dreams, and while they were confirmation that it wasn’t all her imagination, it was frightening in a way. Yet she had to continue, had to know what was happening.
