She felt like she owed it to the tech girl, in a way. Not because Carson had ever done her any favors, but because she seemed to be making an effort after their brief talk the day before. There'd been no snarky comments as they watched the scene in the library unfolding. No snickering when the lights went out in the bedroom, even though everything happening with the monochrome figures was obvious and audible. It seemed like she meant what she'd said; she was going to stop being a bitch.
Carson hesitated and then nodded gratefully, commenting that it would be a lot easier with two people. They carefully noted each book, making sure they had a title and placement marked on the page, and then April asked if she should reshelf them. So far, they were all still lying exactly where they'd been thrown. Carson had read off titles, trying to touch the books as little as possible, even contorting to find the names without closing covers that had fallen open, while April wrote down the information.
"Um, not yet. I need to grab the EMF meter," Carson said, shaking her head. "Hold on, don't touch them," she added as she left the room. In a couple of minutes, she was back with a handheld device that April had never seen before. It vaguely resembled a Geiger counter she'd seen in movies.
"What does that do?" she asked, curious. Other than the cameras and audio recorders, she hadn't really paid attention to what equipment they used to gather data.
Carson twitched a little, like she was annoyed at having to explain to a newbie, but she didn't complain. "Okay, so this is a tri-axis EMF meter. Watch." She crouched down by a leather-bound edition and, ever so slowly, moved the device over the cover. The dials flickered as the numbers on the digital reading went up and down, until there was a sudden spike. "Ha! See that?" She turned to April, sharing a conspiratorial smile. "This detects disturbances in electromagnetic fields. When it spikes like that, it can mean a spectral entity," she explained.
"Oh, wow, that's kind of neat," April said, leaning in to look. She didn't know what the numbers meant, but the spike was easy to see. "So that proves there are ghosts here, then?"
Carson snorted, "I wouldn't think you'd have any doubts, after your kitchen adventures," she said. April started to frown, mouth opening to snap something angrily, but the other girl interrupted, "Relax, I'm kidding. We're all one-hundred percent convinced the place is haunted, trust me. The problem is proving we're not faking anything to the rest of the world. That's the biggest issue, to be honest; people always assume it's rigged or faked." She shrugged, a small sigh of frustration escaping her. "Anyway, on its own, this doesn't prove anything. Other things can cause a spike—powerlines, appliances. The idea is to collect data from different sources and then correlate them to prove there is spectral energy here."
"Here, go ahead and try." She handed the meter to April, who took it nervously, looking uncertain. "Just make sure to move it slow and steady or you'll throw it off," she warned. She stood over April as she moved the small black box, recording everything with her camera, so that when the inevitable spikes came, she had it on record. It would be easier than doing it twice, and once April relaxed, she started to enjoy participating.
When they'd gone over every book and filmed the results for evidence, Carson took the meter back. "Fun, right?" She offered April a grin.
April smiled back; she hadn't expected to like Carson. The punk look and the surly attitude had pushed her away, even before the snide remarks, but once she'd relaxed, Carson turned out to be okay, really. "Thanks for letting me help," April said as the two women worked together to pick up and reshelf the books.
"Naw, you saved me a shit-ton of time. I told you it's a lot easier with two, and I hate to drag Jerome away from his own work." She paused, straightening as she slid the last book in an open spot. "I've never been involved in a case where we have twenty-four/seven access. Usually, we're just in and out, so there's not nearly as much work involved. It's been hard, balancing it all," she admitted.
"Jerome told me you're both doing your master's thesis on this project," April offered hesitantly.
"Yep. But we still have classes, too, and this is a full-time job, on top of it." Carson shook her head impatiently. "Not that I'm complaining. It's the chance of a lifetime, but it's kind of exhausting," she said.
"Yeah, I-I'm ready for it to be over, too," April agreed. She wasn't going to school or correlating data or whatever it was they did when they weren't here, but she was still exhausted, with everything that was going on.
Carson's lip twitched in amusement, jiggling a small silver stud that pierced it. She seemed to be struggling not to reply, and April raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Go ahead and say it," she said.
She smirked, running her hand over her gelled hair, flattening the spikes and then ruffling them back up. "I was just going to say I bet you'll be glad to get rid of the cameras," she said in her best innocent voice.
April narrowed her eyes and then burst out laughing along with Carson, and it felt good. There wasn't much of the morning left by then and she was almost sorry to see them packing up for the day. She'd been more relaxed with them there, and it did occur to her that Carson could be a friend, maybe. At the very least, she wouldn't be surprised or scared off by anything weird April did; she might even consider it an asset.
The afternoon was quiet. In fact, the next couple of days flew by, and before April knew it, she'd hit the end of her second week. She coasted happily through the morning, quietly celebrating being half-way through her trials, when she got a rude reminder that Charles would be dropping by with her paycheck. His taciturn attitude on the phone made it sound like she was just another chore in his busy day, but she wasn't fooled. She didn't need a warning that the man was obsessed with her. She'd seen it in his eyes and the way he'd cornered her twice now. A sick feeling grew in her stomach as she hung up.
She was sure he deliberately planned his visit for after the team left, though his fear of being in the house after dark meant that he didn't wait for too long after their departure. Twisting the phone cord loops around her hand, she frowned at the wall and tried to decide what to do.
After two weeks of working with the team, she felt like she'd gotten to be friends with Professor Marlowe and Jerome. It was a casual friendship, born out of a shared situation, but bit by bit, they'd began to chat about other things and she felt like she'd have liked both of them if they'd met in another environment. Carson, of course, had been a problem since the first day but that seemed to be changing. There was something about the tech that she liked, now that she'd stopped lashing out at April every chance she got.
With all three on her side, maybe she could impose on them to stay a little later. She was embarrassed to ask, but there'd been a growing sense of discomfort over Charles's behavior. The way he slipped the professional demeanor on and off and the lecherous side he'd shown were a concern. She made up her mind to do it, though she'd have to wait. Jerome was somewhere on the second floor taking readings of some kind, and the professor was out of sight, as well.
Carson was hard at work in the equipment room going through EVP recordings, but she hadn't yet gotten so at ease with the girl that she was willing to ask her for a favor. Better, April thought, to sound out the men first and then rope Carson in if they agreed. It left her too much time on her hands to worry, and she decided to keep herself busy. She needed distraction, and besides, there were some chores that had been waiting for her attention.
Foremost was the grocery situation, which was becoming dire. John might not need to eat, but she did, and despite the fully stocked pantry, two weeks' worth of meals had diminished the large selection of perishables. There was still plenty of meat in the freezer, and she could probably make everything last the rest of the month if she cooked more, but cooking was not her favorite hobby.
A shame, really, since the kitchen was clearly designed for a gourmet. She tended to eat a lot of fast and simple meals on the days she didn't survive on take-out alone. Cereal, sandwiches, macaroni and cheese, hotdogs—simple and unhe
althy comfort foods were her main sustenance. It was lucky John couldn't eat, because, if he thought she was some domestic queen who could whip up home-cooked meals at a moment's notice, he'd be disappointed.
Both her mother and her grandmother were good cooks, but that gene had skipped her. She didn't mind in the slightest. Why should she, when it was so easy to order Chinese or pizza? But it did set her wondering, as she wrote out a grocery list, how different she really was from the women he was used to. If he were alive, would he expect her to cook for him? A moot point, obviously, but it highlighted the many differences between them. It also inspired a few questions to ask him later. She'd taken him at his word that she should feel free to ask any question and, now, she kept mental lists of things she wanted to know.
Thinking about it kept her mind involved while she made note of what she needed. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to get the things on the list, since she wasn't allowed to leave the house herself. But she'd been told by Charles, on the day she arrived, to make a list of things she needed and they'd be bought. She made a face, wrinkling her nose, as she thought of the lawyer. She hoped he wasn't the one who'd take care of the shopping. Sleazy lawyers were such a cliché, but a cliché was a cliché for a reason, sometimes.
She was scrawling eggs at the bottom of the list when the professor found her. "Ah, April, I was wondering where you were," he said, smiling as he went straight to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Sorry, did you need me? I was just putting together a shopping list; I'm running low on things," she said. She tapped the list lightly with the tip of her pen and then set it down.
"Oh, yes, of course. Just give the list to Carson and we'll take care of it in the morning. Sorry, I'd completely forgotten to check and see if you needed anything." He sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed in himself.
"I wasn't even sure who I was supposed to talk to, Ben," April reassured him, with a small smile that didn't come close to showing her relief at having that mystery resolved. "I was afraid I'd have to ask Charles to pick things up for me," she added. She knew the look of disgust wasn't entirely hidden because of his reaction.
"Yes, he's more than a little unpleasant to deal with, I'm afraid," the professor said. He watched her with that analytical look he often got when trying to solve a problem. "I'd prefer to deal with Ms. Hagmaier directly but it seems she refuses to come to the house after her experiences here. Mr. Bruebeker is our only choice. Has he done anything…inappropriate?" he asked, hesitation obvious in his tone.
"You might say that." She shrugged, sighing. "It's not like I haven't been hit on before, even aggressively, it's just he seems so, uh—" She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the possessive way the lawyer had acted—the intentness and determination when he looked at her.
The older man sighed, his hand running through the short hair at his temples, where a touch of gray had begun to creep in. "I think I understand. I saw some of that when he looked over our footage. When I refused to give him a copy, he became almost belligerent. He backed off when I suggested we discuss it with the owner, but I'm sorry, he found a way to—"
"But he got a copy, anyway, on his phone. I know, I saw him watching it last week." She swallowed hard and then took a deep breath. "I'm sure he'd have been able to get his hands on it, eventually, anyway, but I think it's made him more interested in me," she said. Most men were attracted to her, at first. Her flawless tan skin set off the interesting shade of hazel her eyes held, and her dark hair was sleek and long, catching their attention. But once they found out about her weird talents, they backed right off, except Charles. He didn't seem remotely frightened by her skills.
"Yes. He had the right to look at any data we collected, as her proxy, and I couldn't stop him from recording it." It wasn't his fault but Professor Marlowe still looked guilty about it.
"It's not your fault, Prof—sorry, Ben," she assured him quickly. And it wasn't, Charles would have gotten it, one way or the other, but it did give her a good lead in on her favor. "But, you know, it's made me a little uncomfortable to be alone in the house with him after that. He came on kind of strong last week after seeing it," she said. The nervous tremor in her voice wasn't faked or exaggerated. "Maybe—I know you have work to do, but do you think you guys could stick around? He's just giving me a check and, with you all here, I doubt he'll stay long."
Ben nodded immediately, jumping at the suggestion. Maybe he'd been worried about it, as well, or maybe he thought it would make up for being unable to stop the lawyer from recording one of her most embarrassing moments. "Certainly, I'd be happy to stay. I'll have to check with Jerome and Carson to be sure, but I don't think they have a class until three," he said.
"That would be great! Seriously, it's a huge relief!" she said. Her whole body lost a level of tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying and she flopped back against the counter, feeling weightless. "If they have to leave, you could just drive my car home tonight and bring it back tomorrow. Not like I'm allowed to go anywhere, anyway," she said.
He chuckled ruefully and shook his head. "I'm afraid I no longer have a license. I was never a very good driver, too easily distracted by my own thoughts, I'm afraid. After I destroyed my last car, I simply let it lapse, for safety's sake," he confided in her, obviously embarrassed.
She covered her mouth to hide a laugh. She was tempted to ask if he was serious but she could tell he was. A professor at a university, with a PHD, but unable to concentrate on the road? It was hilarious, but not surprising when she thought about it. He did seem to get lost in thought fairly often. A case of too much going on his head, she suspected.
"Don't worry, I promise we'll work something out. Your safety is important to me and to this entire experiment. While I'm sure Mr. Bruebeker wouldn't be foolish enough to try anything with the cameras rolling, there is no need to tempt fate, and it's an easy enough precaution to take," he said, patting her arm lightly.
He went back to his work, and she finally relaxed, with all her major worries taken care of. Carson popped her head into the media room off the library, later, to say, "Jerome has a class so he's going to drive the professor back to school, and he'll take notes for me. I'll stay with you for Mr. Creepy's visit."
April paused the movie she'd been watching, looking up. "Are you sure you don't mind? I hate to ask you to miss class," she said guiltily.
Carson rolled her mocha colored eyes, looking unconcerned. "We take turns skipping classes all the time. As long as one of us is there for the notes and we show up for exams, it's no big deal," she said. If she was pissed that April had asked or she'd been relegated to babysitting, she didn't show it.
"Thanks, Carson, I really appreciate it. The guy puts out some bad vibes, and that's not just the psychic in me talking," April said gratefully.
"Yeah, don't I know it? Every time I see him, I feel like I need a shower." Her lip curled in disgust. "I saw the way he watched you on the tapes. Guy was sweating and practically drooling," she said.
April shuddered; it wasn't a shock but, if he was being so obvious that other people noticed, it did mean she wasn't imagining it. Knowing it was real didn't make her feel better, but when Jerome and the professor left, she was really glad for Carson's company, and the two women ended up in the kitchen making lunch.
Carson, it turned out, could cook, which was a relief to April, since all the easy fixings were gone. She laughed at the look on April's face; her hazel eyes were wide with surprise as Carson whipped up a batch of chicken and dumplings with chicken she defrosted in the microwave. "You look like you've never seen someone cook before," she said in amusement. Her eyebrows went up, the one with the piercing slightly off angle as it tugged against the silver ring.
"Of course, I have, just, um—" She flushed, a little embarrassed at being so obvious in her surprise. "I mean, you're—" She stopped, flustered.
"Don't look like the homey type? Yah, I know. I love to cook, th
ough. And my mom's from Alabama, so home-cooked meals were a big thing, growing up. Besides, it's not that hard when you have all the ingredients, and that makes it easier," she said, jerking her chin towards the box of pancake mix, which apparently doubled as biscuit mix.
"If you say so. I could never get the hang of it. My grandmother tried to teach me but she gave up—said I could burn water without even trying." April grinned, relaxing as she watched Carson move through the kitchen with efficiency. There was a lot about the teal-haired girl that surprised her.
"Sheesh, you better learn, girl. With a kitchen like this? You can't waste it," Carson said in a teasingly stern voice. Joking aside, there was a slight undercurrent of jealousy still there, but April ignored it.
"I was thinking, today, that it's a good thing John doesn't eat. Not sure someone from the 1800s is going to understand a woman who doesn't cook," she said with a sigh. "Maybe I should learn, with a kitchen like this. I mean, if I stay."
Carson didn't comment at first, stirring the frozen vegetables into the thick gravy. "If? Seems like you've got a lock on it. I mean ghost-dude isn't going to send you screaming for the door, anytime soon," she said finally. She shot April a curious side-glance.
"No, but…" April shook her head. "…I don't know. I thought I was committing to a job with a big bonus at the end, not a relationship with a dead man. Figured I'd sell the house afterwards and go back to my life, until he showed up. This is a lot to decide on in a month." She sighed as her head drooped and her hair slid forward to curtain her face, hiding the mixture of yearning and fear in her expression.
"Oh. Yeah, that's kinda rough." She tapped the spoon against the side of the copper pot and set it aside while she poured the biscuit mix into a bowl and added water. It seemed like she wasn't going to comment further as the silence lengthened, but as she started to whisk the bowl, she cleared her throat. "I read your reports, sometimes. I saw you say you had a dream about this, about him before you got here, ever think maybe this is supposed to happen? Like, maybe you're here for a reason? I mean, you've got these freaky powers, seems like there must be a reason for it. And you said you loved him."
Awakened with a Touch Page 7
