The Haunted_Edit Copy 4-7-17

Chapter Sixteen
Later that night, I was sprawled out on the couch staring up
at the ceiling when Gunner’s head blocked my view of the white
expanse above me. “We have to talk about Tucker.”
My heart kicked as it tried to get out of my chest. It didn’t
want to hear whatever Gunner had to say. But if it meant helping
him in any way, I had to listen. I quickly scooted backward so I
could sit up and make room for him on the couch with me.
“You said you came across something not so good when you
were ghost hunting?” he asked as he lowered himself to the cushion
by my feet.
I nodded as my heart continued to pound out a rapid rhythm
against my ribs. “Yeah.”
“I know you’re not supposed to reveal anything about your
clients, but can you at least tell me what happened there? That could
have something to do with why he’s sitting there burning his own
hand.” Gunner’s face was red and he looked like he’d rather be
chewing on nails than sitting here having this conversation with me.
“Like head trauma? Because I thought of that,” I offered.
His eyebrows furrowed. “No, not exactly.”
I took a deep breath, and when I let it out, the story spilled
forth. I told him about the way I felt uneasy from the very beginning
of the case but tried to brush it off, about how Tucker almost had his
head slammed in a closet and his hand burned before being tossed
into a wall. By the time I finished, my hands were shaking so badly
I had to use them pull my knees against my chest to keep them
steady.
Gunner was quiet for a little while as he stared down at the
couch cushion beside him. When he finally raised his head, he said,
“Chelsea ... was this Timmy Johansson’s house?”
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Chelsea Keller,
the magnificent detective who never misses a beat. Timmy
Johansson was Gunner’s friend who kept telling him that he had a
demon in his closet. This is the second time I forgot this. Damn it.
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