Tad handed me a bundle of intake papers for me to fill out. I began to sort through the forms, still thinking about the case. While ghosts could—and sometimes did—kill, generally they weren’t usually so violent. However, given dark magicians had owned the asylum, there was no telling what sort of mayhem they’d been up to. They could have empowered his ghost, or perhaps they stirred up something that had already been tied to the land.
Turning back to Caitlin, I asked, “Is there anything special about the history of the land? Anything physical, like was there any sort of nuclear power plant there, which I doubt, but you know what I’m talking about. Or anything on a paranormal level—was it by chance—”
“An old Indian burial ground?” She laughed. “I know what you’re talking about. Let me look into that too.”
Tad smiled. “I told you she’d be right for the job, guys. She’s already thinking like an investigator.”
“I don’t watch The Dead Files for nothing,” I said, grinning. As I went back to filling out the paperwork that would officially net me a paycheck, my thoughts were picking over the pieces of what we knew, and I found myself dwelling on the family who had lost their lives to the disturbed yearnings of Psy Schooner.
Chapter Seven
An hour later, Caitlin had a list of three names for me—a doctor and two nurses who had worked at the asylum during its heyday. She also had the name of someone I could talk to about the history of the land. There had been several buildings there before the Stellarview Institution bought the place.
“I made an appointment for you at three p.m. with Charles Crichton, who can give you a more detailed history of the area. He’s a member of the Moonshadow Bay Historical Society, and you’ll find his office in the Garrison Library.” She emailed me the information as well as printing it out for me. “You’ll find all their addresses and phone numbers there. I’ll leave it to you to call them, because I wasn’t sure who you wanted to visit first.”
I accepted the list, scanning it quickly. “I’ll call after lunch. I don’t want to just drop in on them.”
I glanced at the clock. It was 11:45. My desk was organized, Hank had assigned me a laptop and got me signed into the system, and I had finished the intake paperwork. My stomach rumbled. I was hungry.
“What do you guys do about lunch?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t brought anything.
Hank motioned to the door. “There’s a sub shop and a pizza place a few shops down the strip mall. There’s also a fish and chips stand across the parking lot. One of us usually just makes a lunch run for everybody. We trade off. In fact, it’s my turn today, so give me your order, I’ll phone it in, and pick everybody’s orders up in about twenty minutes.”
“Oh, what about fish and chips?” Caitlin said, clapping her hands. “It’s cold out there and I could use some chowder.”
“Fine by me. What about you, Tad? January?” Hank asked.
Tad and I both nodded. We placed our orders with Hank and he went to phone them in. I glanced over the paperwork one last time to make sure everything was accurate. The job offered insurance, which I didn’t expect, so it was a nice bonus. Tad offered a 401K plan, so I signed up for that. Finally, I handed Tad back the packet.
“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair by the side of his desk. “So, do you think you’ll like the job?”
I nodded. “I think so. It’s interesting, and I’ll be able to stretch my writing muscles.”
“I looked into your old magazine,” he said. “Your byline’s all over it. How did your ex ever manage to push you out?”
I shook my head. “I trusted him too much. He lied to me, and I fell for a scam. I ended up signing everything over to him in a trumped-up prenup, long after we got married. I didn’t read what I signed—I thought it was something about the corporation, and that was my mistake. So, with my signature on the documents, and the fact that his lawyer had pre-dated them, I was stone-cold out of luck. That was shortly before he told me he wanted a divorce.”
“I think I see where this is going,” Tad said.
I nodded. “Turned out what I signed gave him sole ownership over the house and the magazine. Since I had signed it, the judge ruled it was legal. I tried to explain, but the judge is friends with Ellison. I walked away with half our savings, though I know he stuck money away in accounts my lawyer couldn’t find. But I didn’t lose every part of the magazine. As you said, my byline’s all over it, but that doesn’t mean I own it. And since we listed our LLC as the publisher, that didn’t help. Especially since I found out that he had secretly removed me from the corporation and changed the name of the registered agent to someone I didn’t know. That’s incredibly easy to do.”
“I can’t believe he got away with all that,” Caitlin said. “And yes, I was eavesdropping. Why didn’t you fight it?”
I shrugged. “I did, but Ellison’s family has clout all over the Pacific Northwest, and they have money. Old money. And with old money, comes power. And they never liked me from the beginning. It got worse as time went on. When they found out I was from a family of witches, they lost it. They also constantly harped about the fact that I was gaining weight.”
“Bigots,” Caitlin said.
“Big time. They’re xenos—they don’t like anyone from the Otherkin community. Neither do they approve of the fact that the Otherkin community has been integrating more into the human community. They’re an old-money family, and only tradition matters. Their traditions.”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Tad said, shaking his head. “If it helps any, your articles were stellar. You’re articulate, you can write, and you have an engaging feel to your work. I venture a guess that the magazine’s circulation is going to go down, down, down, without your input. The rest of the thing was dry as dust.”
I laughed, leaning back in my chair. It felt good to have support, and I was rapidly coming to like Tad, Hank, and Caitlin. “Thank you—I needed that shot in the arm. Tell me, what other cases have you worked on lately?”
“Well, we investigated a UFO sighting last month. Hank went out on that one.” Tad paused.
“You’re going to like it here,” Caitlin said. “We have a lot of fun, and it’s always something different. Three months ago, I investigated a haunted house for a client. Turns out, it was haunted, all right, but by an infestation of gnomes.”
I shivered. Gnomes were nasty little creatures, more like what gremlins were supposed to be, than the fat-cheeked jolly fun folk of lore. Their red hats were red for a reason; they washed them in blood. And they got that blood from hurting humans. They never really outright killed anybody, but they would nip your heels or prick your toes or fingers, and they collected the blood that dripped. Their venom contained a numbing solution that made the blood flow freely, and yet it eased the sting of the bite. They usually came out at night and crept into your bed while you were sleeping to siphon off as much blood as possible.
“Gnomes are the worst, but thank goodness they aren’t common.”
“True that. They were a pain in the ass to clear out. The home owners heard them scuttling and they saw the shadows of the gnomes, and of course the first thing they thought was that the house was haunted. But no ghosts…just gnomes.”
“Did you get rid of them?”
“We weren’t able to—but I’m thinking you can probably take care of gnomes, can’t you? If you specialize in protection and warding magic?” Caitlin said.
I nodded. I had helped my mother deal with the creepy-crawlies when I was younger. She had taught me a number of tricks. “Yeah, I can handle a case of gnomes. I’m even pretty good going up against gremlins. Exorcising ghosts—that depends on the spirit. My mother taught me all sorts of tricks. I’m guessing that I should be able to take care of a number of these minor situations that might come up.”
Tad broke into a smile. “If you can do that, you get an automatic raise.”
Hank pushed through the door at that moment, carrying sev
eral large bags from the fish and chips stand. “Lunch!” He carried the bags to the table. Caitlin began helping him sort out the orders.
I turned back to Tad. “I want to have my private consultation business up and running by the first of the year. I promise I won’t take on anything that interfere with my work, or that Conjure Ink should be handling. Will that be acceptable?”
“I think that should work out fine. We’ll go over the details later, but I think this should mutually benefit Conjure Ink and your new business.”
As we gathered around the table, Tad began to tease Caitlin about her new haircut—she had shaved the sides of her long blond hair into a mullet. As I watched them, I caught a spark between the two. I didn’t think they were dating, but there was chemistry there. I doubted either of them knew it, but as I glanced over at Hank, he was grinning at me. He gave me a nod, then a glance at the pair. He could see it, too.
I bit into the fish and ate a spoon of the chowder, which slid down my throat in all its creamy gloriousness, and suddenly the work day felt like it was speeding by. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was truly part of something, and that was a feeling I hadn’t had in a long, long time.
Caitlin handed me the list of suspicious deaths she’d been able to find from Decembers past, since the date of Psy Schooner’s death. The bodies had all been found on the grounds of the asylum, and they were all listed as cause of death uncertain.
I glanced over the names. None were any I recognized, and Caitlin had noted beside each name what their occupation was, along with the date they were found dead. All the deaths had been within the month of December. There were eighteen deaths total, including Arabella and the homeless man.
I turned to Caitlin before I headed out. “I’m out. I may be back before the day’s done, depending on what happens. I’m going to scope out the asylum first, and yes, I’ll be careful. Then I’ll go talk to Charles Crichton.”
They waved good-bye as I headed out, but before I left Tad reminded me to keep track of my mileage. The company would reimburse me so much per mile for the wear and tear on my car and the gasoline that it took. He handed me a mileage pad. “Here. Get used to using it. Paper and pen are more trustworthy than some of the apps I’ve seen. And be aware that when you are using your phone to record anything, if there are ghosts around it may fritz out. We have some specialized equipment, but it’s going to take a while to teach you how to use it. Tomorrow morning we’ll go through it together.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Okay, I’m off.”
My first task of the afternoon was to head out to the site of the asylum and poke around. I wasn’t comfortable going alone, but I didn’t want to mention that to Tad or the others. I didn’t want them to regret hiring me. But who could I call? Ari was at work. And I hadn’t had time to reacquaint myself with anybody who I felt I could ask out on a jaunt around a haunted woodland.
Then it occurred to me. My new next-door neighbor hadn’t set up shop yet. And he was strong, there was no doubt about that. Before I could second-guess myself, I pulled out my phone and called Killian.
“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was smooth and made me melt. Just a little.
Pushing away the thought that I’d like to have him explore more than just a piece of land, I said, “I have a proposition for you. I’ll make you dinner tonight if you come tramp around the woods with me looking for a killer’s ghost. We may be marching to our deaths, by the way, so think before you answer.”
Short and to the point, with a little humor on the side. But if my invitation made him uneasy, at least I hadn’t glossed over the potential danger.
He laughed. “Okay, then. Good afternoon to you, too. Are you serious?”
I cleared my throat. “Unfortunately, yes. I have about ninety minutes before an appointment, but that should be plenty of time to do a preliminary examination of the area.”
“You’re not digging up graves, are you?” he asked.
I laughed. “No, I’m not. Here’s the deal.” I explained to him what I was working on and he agreed to meet me in fifteen minutes at the entrance to the old asylum. Feeling better, I eased out onto the road, heading toward the outskirts of Moonshadow Bay.
Moonshadow Bay had a thriving downtown, and there were shoppers everywhere, getting ready for the Solstice. The massive tree in the town square was sparkling as if Tinkerbell herself had decorated it. The twenty-four foot tall blue spruce was still young, but it was lovely and fluffed out, and each year they trimmed it so it would remain the right size and shape.
I gazed up at the twinkling multicolored lights as I passed by, feeling grateful that I had moved back to the town. I felt like I could breathe again.
I drove along Main Street, then took a right on Hawthorn. As I passed through the suburbs and then into a rural area, I made a left on Alabaster Way, which led to the northern exit out of town. My GPS warned me that the turnoff to Stellarview would be one-tenth of a mile ahead, to the left. I kept my eyes open and there it was. The road was paved, with tire tracks scattered through the snow. Probably the cops, come to investigate Arabella’s death.
I pulled into the turnoff to wait for Killian, trying to tell myself that it made sense for us to go in together. But in my heart, I knew that I was afraid. Big spooky abandoned building. Psycho killer ghost. A trail of eighteen dead bodies over the years. Yeah, I had reason to worry.
After another ten minutes, I was about ready to bite the bullet and head in alone when I saw a navy blue SUV pull in, Killian behind the wheel. He waved for me to go ahead of him, so I started the engine and eased on down the road. There had been a security gate blocking the road that led down the wooded drive, but the gate had been broken long ago, and I could see the remains of it on the side of the road.
The wooded driveway was level, wide enough for two cars to pass, but even through the snow, I could see that plants had broken through the asphalt over the years, cracking and buckling it.
The road was about a quarter-mile long, and opened into a wide, deserted parking lot. The asylum was there in the background, stark and imposing. Made of cinderblock and brick, it had once been white but now was a dirty gray, eclipsed by mildew, moss, and time.
I shook my head, frowning. An air of foreboding shrouded the building. The entire grounds, actually. My alarm bells went off, and the hair on my arms saluted. I glanced around. What the hell was out here? Was it Schooner’s ghost, or something else? Either way, the energy set my stomach to churning and I wanted nothing more than to turn tail.
I pushed the impulse away. This was my job. I couldn’t just run away.
I parked near the entrance, and Killian parked next to me. I stepped out of my car, staring up at the two-story structure. There were windows all along the bottom floor, wide bay windows, but up top, the windows were small and barred. They looked forlorn and stark. A face was staring out of one of them at me. I stiffened, but the face vanished as soon as I focused my attention on it.
“Good grief,” Killian said, joining me. “What the hell is this place?”
“It used to be an asylum for the criminally insane,” I said. “Somehow, I think several inmates never left when it was shut down, if you know what I mean.”
“Ghosts?”
I nodded. “I’m looking for…well, I’m not sure what, but there’s one ghost in particular I’m out to find.” I paused, then told him about my new job and the case I was investigating. “I think I’m going to really like the job, but this is a doozy for them to start me on.”
“I’ll say.” Killian held out his arm and pushed up his sleeve. “The hairs on my arm are standing up.” And they were.
I snuck a closer look at him. He was wearing a black, double-breasted military coat, which fell to his calves. The two rows of buttons were gold, and he looked mighty snazzy in it. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had on a pair of black earmuffs. All in all, he looked good.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
I blurted out.
He blinked, tilting his head. “Why?”
I couldn’t very well say that I wanted to know if he fit in my dating window. Granted, I had already asked him to the Winter Carnival, but his reaction made me wonder if age was a sore subject with him. I shrugged, deciding not to push it.
“No reason,” I said, turning back to the building. “I guess I’d better get in there and look around.”
“Wait, you’re actually going inside?” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides ghosts, there could be derelicts in there, or vagrants.”
“Most of the homeless aren’t going to hurt you,” I said. “And I can’t very well investigate this case if I don’t even set foot inside. If there are ghosts attached, if Psy Schooner is still hanging around on the astral plane, I need to find out everything I can.”
“You are not going in there without protection,” Killian said. “Wait here.” He crossed back to his SUV and reached in the back seat, coming out with a sturdy-looking baseball bat.
I frowned. “You carry a bat in your car?”
“For protection. I don’t like guns. I do own a shotgun, just in case I ever have the need to put some poor creature down when I’m checking out horses or livestock. But I don’t like handguns.” He paused at my look of confusion. “What?”
“I thought you were a vet, as in cats and dogs?”
“I am, but I also treat large animals, if need be. I worked on a farm a long time ago, taking care of the livestock.” He smiled, gripping the bat. “Come on, then, let’s get moving.”
I steeled my courage and led the way toward the asylum. It occurred to me that I should probably start carrying something in my car, as well. I had been through a couple of self-defense courses, and I wasn’t exactly a couch potato, but it might not hurt to join the local gym. If I was going to be out investigating, I should keep up with my weights and yoga.
Starlight Web: A Moonshadow Bay Novel, Book 1 Page 8
