The Haunted_Edit Copy 4-7-17 no reviews

The Haunted
Hearts on Fire
By
Katherine Kehoe
ii

© 2016 Katherine Kehoe
Edition
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
ISBN
978-0997398823
0997398825
Credits
Cover Design: Doc
Interior Graphics: Doc
Hibernian Publishing
New Jersey
ii

Dedication
For Lisa,
who showed me how to fight the worst demons.
iii

Acknowledgements
I have been writing since before I was even old enough to
know the alphabet and my stories were just stick-figure pictures of
cats going on adventures. Now that this book is in your hands, my
ultimate goal has been achieved. I’ll have to start thinking of some
new ones soon. Seeing Norway would be cool; I’ve got a little
Viking blood. But before I do that, I need to get out my
immeasurable, extreme, totally mushy gratitude to everyone who
helped me along this journey.
First, I want to thank Mike and Gail O’Connell for their
endless patience, guidance, and general kindness. Without you,
none of this would have been possible, and I am so, so insanely
beyond words to thank you for recognizing me in that little coffee
shop in Toms River years ago. You are both amazing, as are the
rest of the staff at Hibernian Publishing who put their valuable
time and effort into transforming this manuscript into a book.
Thank you, also, to Lisa, for always encouraging me every
step of the way and for being my biggest supporter every minute.
Thank you for your hours and hours of listening to me vent and
especially for reading this even though it scared you. You are
amazing and I am so blessed to have worked with you for the past
decade.
Thank you to my parents for letting me spend hours of time
locked in my room and writing/drawing away when I should have
been emptying the dishwasher or folding my laundry. Especially to
my daddy, who passed on a lot of badass traits, but particularly a
love of all things creepy and gory. I love you so much.
Thank you to Mr. Neid, wherever you are, for letting me
write creative stories far beyond the allowed word count and for
reading them and cheering me on anyway. Also for not yelling at
me for reading Goosebumps under my desk. To this day, you are
still the only teacher who let me get away with that. Thank you,
Ms. Rolston, for being the greatest English teacher on the face of
the earth and for pushing me to do more than I thought I was
capable of.
iv

Thank you, Rob, for opening my eyes to infinite
possibilities and igniting something inside me that had been
dormant. It is because of you that I finished this book. I have loved
every minute of our adventure together and I cannot thank you
enough for all of your love and support.
Thank you to all the amazing friends who took the time to
read the book and to offer me some feedback and reviews. Special
thanks to Steve for popping my ad in the magazine. Thank you,
specifically, to those who remembered to ask for updates and who
got excited and jumped around with me over this, especially
Larissa. Thank you, Eileen, my Surrogate Mom, for the most
wonderful, kind, and loving joy you showed for me. Thank you,
Keira, for hugging me even though neither of us are huggers, and
sorry for drawing attention to it (but not really).
Thank you, Emily, for writing ridiculous stories,
screenplays, and haikus with me for almost twenty years now and
keeping me inspired. The leprauchuna will be with me always.
Thank you, Bethany, for your unwavering support and for writing
with me so much. I will keep those smiley face boxers forever.
Thank you, Sputz, for getting me into the paranormal in the first
place and for taking many road trips to creepy, abandoned, and
allegedly haunted destinations to keep the fear alive. Thank you,
Chris, for sitting in the car, listening to Elvis, and working through
plot holes with me until 3am even when you had to be up for work
the next morning. Thank you, Pete, for having my back when the
lights went out from the very beginning, and Marti, for never
letting me wind up like Tucker. All of you mean the world to me.
Finally, thank you for making it all the way to this page. I
would hug you if I could. Never give up on creating your own
story, whatever that may be, and make sure to stay away from
demons in closets.
v

Part One
vi

Chapter One
For his fiftieth birthday, my dad decided he wanted to take a
ghost hunting class.
“Check this out, Chelsea!” he exclaimed as he damn near
gave me a paper cut with the flyer he was waving around my nose.
I managed to snag his wrist and hold it in place long enough
to read the big block lettering on the top of the paper. Ghost Hunting
101: Learn the basics of ghost hunting, such as: types of spirits,
equipment used, psychic protection, and how to conduct an
investigation.
Now to me, this sounded like just a bunch of technical — not
to mention freaky — jargon. But when I turned my neck to look at
my dad, he had this expression on his face like an Olympic gymnast
who had just nailed a quadruple backflip. So, naturally, I said,
“Sounds awesome, Dad!”
“You didn’t even see the best part. Look at the date,” he
insisted, shaking the page some more.
When I peered at the subtext beneath the header, I realized
that it was being held on June 2. That was why he was bouncing like
a puppy greeting visitors; June 2 was his birthday. What better
present could he have asked for? This time, there was genuine
enthusiasm in my voice when I spoke. “Sweet! You should
definitely go!”
His smile stretched so big it looked like it was actually
hurting his face. “It’s in June. You won’t have class anymore. You
can come, too!”
When I said that ghost hunting was freaky, I meant it. While
my dad loved horror movies and creepy stories and all that went
bump in the night, no matter how valiantly he tried to raise me on it
as I grew up, I just couldn’t get into it. The very idea of something
that I couldn’t see hanging around me, whether it was Casper or
Patrick Swayze, made my heart kick into high gear. Therefore, the
idea of taking a class discussing these paranormal possibilities made
me recoil a little in the swivel chair.
1

“Well, I mean, I’ll probably have to work Saturday morning.
I don’t know ...” I trailed off as I realized my words were vacuuming
the happiness right off of his face. Serious guilt nailed me in the gut.
I hadn’t seen my dad so enthusiastic about anything since the
divorce. He was constantly working his butt off just to keep some
kind of security for Gunner and me. And here I was shooting down
the first thing he wanted to do for himself in a solid six months.
Hoping that he would forgive my total assholeishness, I said,
“You know what, forget work. I can get my Saturday switched. I’d
love to go, Dad.”
It was like flipping a switch and turning the lights on. The
smile sprang back onto his face and he leaned down to hug me.
“Great! I would have brought your brother, but you have to be over
eighteen. I know you’ll enjoy it, Chels. It’s not like a horror movie,
I promise.”
I winced as his beard scraped my cheek and patted his arm
tentatively. I had seen him watching the shows on TV; I had a basic
idea of what ghost hunting was supposed to be about. From my
understanding, it was a bunch of dudes creeping around some
ancient buildings that had tons of reports of people being tormented
by spirits. It was pretty much like, “Hey, I hear that some lady got
pushed down the stairs here by something she can’t see. I’m going
to come in and try to figure out who this ghost is and why they’re
being a royal pain.”
But I wanted my dad to be happy, especially since it was his
birthday. And if this was going to do it, then so be it. I would grow
a pair for the night. Or at least pretend to, for his sake.
Finally, he let me go and bounded off, probably to go find
Gunner and tell him about it, even though he was too young to come.
My brother would probably think it was seriously the coolest thing
ever. He had totally inherited my dad’s love of the creepy, crawly
stuff.
That was how, on June 2 at 5:45, I scurried quickly after my
dad through the doors of The End Shelf. My head was bowed so my
hair would hang around my face, just in case anyone I knew
2

happened to be walking by and see me going in to the used bookstore
for a ghost hunting class.
The smell of old yellowed paper hung heavily in the toowarm
air inside the shop. There wasn’t much room to walk around.
Books were stacked literally from floor to ceiling, some on shelves
and others just piled on their own. I wondered how the place actually
made any sales. If I wanted to grab that copy of Wuthering Heights,
I would have created a complete book avalanche. And the ancientlooking
Bible up near the top looked like it could definitely do some
damage if it knocked me in the head.
Dad immediately made a beeline between the stacks for the
back of the store, searching for exactly where the class was going to
be held. He must have found someone to ask, because I heard him
say, very proudly, “My daughter and I are here for the Ghost
Hunting class. Where should we go?”
I followed with less enthusiasm, taking my time gazing up
and down the endless rows of books as I went. Man, this place had
everything. There were like, six copies of Twilight in one place, but
across from it was what looked like the entire series of Animorphs.
Talk about flashbacks to my childhood. It was almost comforting
enough to make me forget I was about to go learn about something
that, quite frankly, made me want to pee my pants−almost.
When I reached the sales counter, there was a young, pale
guy with dark hair sitting behind it smiling warmly at my dad. If he
thought it was weird that we were there to learn how to talk to
something we couldn’t see, he definitely didn’t show it. He turned
his smile in my direction as I stopped beside my dad, my hands in
the pockets of my jeans so no one would see if they started shaking.
I noted, a bit judgmentally, that the t-shirt draped over his scrawny
chest had a big number 22 wrapped up in a net. Haha, a book pun.
The guy definitely fit the bill to work in a place like this.
“Hey,” he greeted me. “You’re here for the class?”
My dad answered for me. “This is my daughter. She’s a little
scared of ghosts.”
My cheeks flared with heat and I glared at my flip-flops.
Thanks, Dad. Advertise to the whole world what a weenie I am. I
3

also sleep with a night-light on; would you like to tell this stranger
that, too?
Clearly, my father was too excited by everything to wait
around for his scaredy-cat daughter, because he whirled off in the
direction he’d been pointed, going, “Come on, Chelsea! We want to
get good seats!”
I might as well have just taken a red sharpie and colored in
my cheeks.
The guy behind the counter laughed. It wasn’t mean
sounding at all, but it didn’t do anything to help my blush go away.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured me. “It’s not scary. I promise.”
I raised my gaze from my flip-flops to his dark eyes. “I’m
not only scared of the ghosts. I’m also worried about what kind of
weirdos are going to be taking this class.” In my head, I had an
image of some deathly pale Goth nerds congregating in the shop. I
know that was completely stereotypical and unfair, but I was
petrified. My brain was all but rational.
He raised an eyebrow curiously. “Oh? Weirdos, huh? What
if I told you I’m the one who got the group to come here and speak
today?”
Hi, I’m Chelsea Keller, and I am an insensitive asshole. “Oh,
man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sure you’re not a
weirdo.” Good, babble incoherently. Maybe he will think you’re
mentally challenged and forgive your rude comment.
The guy shook his head, still smiling. “Don’t worry about it.
I’m a member of the team. I wanted to educate the world a little on
the weirdo community, so I asked them to come out and give a talk.”
Was he making fun of me? Okay, I kind of deserved that. I
had just insulted something he was clearly interested in. “Sorry,” I
said again. “I’m just nervous. This stuff has always freaked me out.
I’m just here because it’s my dad’s birthday and he really, really
wanted to come — as you can see.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. Not everyone is into it, and I get that. It
would be like trying to get me to sit down and watch The Notebook;
I’d be horrified and judging everyone in the room enjoying it. But
4

try and give this a chance. It may not be exactly what you think.” He
winked at me.
I actually had to smile a little at the chick flick reference.
Being a female, I had seen my share of girly rom-coms and dramas,
and I actually agreed with him on that one. They were total hell to
sit through. “I’ll try it. Thanks.”
“See you later, Chelsea,” he said as I turned to follow my
dad down the aisle. I realized that I didn’t know his name; he hadn’t
been wearing a name tag like they did in big commercial stores.
Mental note: be sure to ask on the way out. It was the least I could
do in a desperate attempt at politeness after calling him a weirdo.
It turned out that the store had a back room that was only
partially filled with books. All of the walls were pretty much
papered in stacks, but the middle of the room was a clear space with
a few rows of chairs set up. In the front, beside a table loaded with
equipment on display, were a man and a woman wearing black t-
shirts that read, “Lark Hollow Paranormal Research.” Lark Hollow
was a few towns north of us in central Massachusetts. I’d been there
plenty of times to go to the mall, but I’d had no idea they harbored
a creepy group of …
Knock it off, Chelsea. Stop being so judgmental. Fear was
not an excuse for being a bee-otch.
Dad had taken a seat right in the front — why was I not
surprised — so I sat down to his left, favoring the end of the row.
“Look at all their gadgets!” my dad gushed, pointing
blatantly at the table. “How cool is this?”
“Very cool, Dad,” I mumbled. My fingers toyed with my
phone in my pocket, tempting me to pull it out and text Michelle.
When I’d told her that my dad wanted to go to this, she said, “Wait,
is that where they dance around a circle and sacrifice animals?” I
explained to her that no, ghost hunting was not some kind of
ritualistic cult activity. At least as far as I knew. But at least she
shared my wariness of it.
The room began to fill up quickly as people filtered in
through the doorway and selected seats. Before I knew it, there were
a good twelve people besides us filling up the chairs. Twelve people
5

in Bethany, Massachusetts, had been willing to pay fifty bucks to
hear this talk and learn how to ghost hunt. I didn’t know any of them,
and most were closer to my dad’s age than mine, but it was
astounding how normal they looked. There was one couple that had
to be in their sixties, and two that had to be twin sisters. Nobody was
dressed in black with hundreds of piercings. Hmm. Perhaps the
nameless geeky guy behind the counter had a point.
At 6:00 on the nose, the woman with the LHPR shirt clapped
her hands together and gave us a huge smile. I’m talking airplane
signal bright. “Welcome to Ghost Hunting 101,” she greeted us.
“I’m Daisy, and this is Richard. We’re the founders of Lark Hollow
Paranormal Research, which has been investigating the paranormal
throughout New England for twenty years now.”
Twenty years? That was my entire life. I had no idea the idea
of ghost hunting had been around so long. I didn’t remember any of
the shows being on TV when I was a little kid. Then again, I usually
ran out of the room crying when my dad had something creepy on
TV, and my mom would swoop down and rip him a new one for
making me upset.
“There is far too much information and training involved in
becoming a ghost hunter to teach you all of it in a four-hour class.
So today we’ll go over the basics, which include the types of spirits
you may encounter, how to protect yourself against them, the
equipment we use, and how to conduct an investigation,” Daisy
explained.
Richard spoke for the first time then. “We’ll be available
after the class for questions. If any of you are interested in starting
your own group, we suggest that you come and speak to us at the
end of the class and we can tell you how to find additional
information. This is a lot of stuff to take in for one night, and some
of it’s probably going to get a little confusing. If you’re just
interested in joining a group, we have little brochures on how to join
Lark Hollow Paranormal Research up here.”
“Let me begin by asking how many of you have had a
paranormal experience?” Daisy piped up again. Several hands in the
room went up, some of them enthusiastically, and others a bit more
6

slowly. She pointed at one man in the back. “Why don’t you tell us
about yours, sir? What’s your name?”
“I’m Kyle,” he introduced himself. “I’m a doctor at the
hospital over in Reading. I always hear footsteps on the second floor
to my house, and whenever I go up to check, there’s never anyone
there. My wife is really scared and she wants to move, but I keep
telling her she doesn’t need to be. Whatever it is has never tried to
harm us.”
“Well, Kyle,” Richard said, “you bring up a good point. How
many people here are scared of ghosts?”
At first, I was still distracted by the fact that a doctor was
here to learn how to ghost hunt to hear the question. I mean, doctors
were all about science. But this guy, someone with a respectable,
logical career, who did not look at all out of his mind, was here
honestly telling us his story.
When the hands started to go up around the room, I realized
the question Richard had asked. Seeing that at least six other people
had raised their hands, I timidly lifted mine to about ear level. Kind
of a “me, too, but please don’t tell anyone” gesture.
“Let me be the first to tell you that there is no need to be.
The only reason that most of us fear ghosts is because we know next
to nothing about them. There’s not going to be any evil girl coming
out of your TV to kill you. This is the real world. Yes, there are some
spirits that would like to cause you harm, but we are going to teach
you just how to protect yourself from those. You are stronger than
them; you’re alive, they’re not. So you’re perfectly safe. And keep
in mind that the great majority of spirits are not out to scare you. I
promise.” When he said the final words, he looked right at me. For
some reason, although he wasn’t smiling, his gaze was somewhat
comforting. He had been doing this for twenty years and he could
tell me with confidence that nothing was going to hurt me.
Although my guard was still up, I actually found myself
interested in hearing more. What was the difference between the
ones that wanted to hurt us and the ones that didn’t? How could we
tell? And how could we protect ourselves from the bad ones?
7

Richard went on to explain to us the different types of spirits.
There were the human spirits who were just hanging out because
they weren’t ready to move on yet. Maybe they didn’t even realize
they were dead, or maybe they didn’t want to leave loved ones, or
maybe they had some business they needed to see through. The
reason varied with the spirit, the same way each of our reasons for
attending the class varied person to person. At least, that was the
example he used.
He told us about the nonhuman spirits and said that he wasn’t
going to go into great detail, because the less we knew, the less of a
target we would be for them. But he did explain that anything that
defied the laws of physics, such as a fire spontaneously lighting in
the fireplace, probably meant there was something inhuman and if
that was the case we should call in some experts. Then he inserted
another Lark Hollow Paranormal Research plug. He didn’t really
need to; if I ever saw anything catch on fire out of nowhere, I’d
probably be halfway to California before the call to an investigation
group even reached the second ring.
Then, when Daisy took over with the equipment, I was lost
in a whirlwind of technical mumbo jumbo. They used cameras and
digital voice recorders to pick up photographs, videos and sound
clips of ghosts talking. That much I could understand. But when she
started holding up these little blinking machines that measured
electromagnetic something or other, I found myself as confused as
I’d been in my physics class last semester.
After the first two hours of that, they let us take a ten-minute
bathroom break. While my dad was poking around the table and
trying out their tools, I scooted quickly from the cramped little room.
As I passed by the counter, the guy from earlier asked, “How’s it
going?”
I paused mid-step and turned my body around. “It’s, um, a
lot. But it’s actually kind of interesting. I didn’t know there were
different kinds of spirits. I mean, yeah, I can see the difference
between Slimer and the Keymaster, but that’s not exactly what
we’re looking at here.” He laughed appreciatively. “I hear you. They
8

trained me for three months to teach me all the information they’re
giving you guys tonight.”
“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously. I guess I could see
that. It would probably take me that long to remember how to use
half of that equipment.
“Yeah. So don’t worry. If you ever actually want to ghost
hunt, they’ll give you more information. But you probably won’t
want to associate with us weirdos.”
Ah, crazy blush, we meet again. “I told you I’m sorry about
that” I seriously felt bad. He was really nice, and I realized after
seeing doctors and lawyers and other upstanding non-creepy citizens
tell their ghost stories, that I had misjudged the crowd.
“I’m kidding! Relax.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Tucker.” He placed the book he had been reading on the
counter so he could hold out his hand. When I glanced at the title as
I reached over the book, I felt even worse about judging him earlier.
This guy recognized my Ghostbusters reference and read Fight
Club. That alone made him someone I would probably have been
friends with in high school.
“So what’s confusing you?” he asked after we’d shaken
hands.
“The equipment. I am not mechanically minded at all. I can’t
tell an electronic-magnet-whatever from a spatula.”
Tucker laughed again. “Electromagnetic. All that really
means is a field made by things with an electric charge. The meters
we have measure the changes in that field — hence the name
Electromagnetic Field Meter, or EMF meter. Basically, the theory is
that the presence of a ghost creates a change in that field. So, if your
meter shows a jump to a higher number, there may be a ghost
hanging around.”
I raised my hands in mock applause. “Ladies and gentlemen,
EMF meters for Dummies, presented by Tucker of The End Shelf.
Next, he will explain Infrared Cameras for Complete Morons,
specifically designed for Chelsea Keller.”
9

He waved his hand at me. “Get out of here. You’re not a
complete moron. It’s just a lot to take in.”
“Yeah, but you said it in a much less confusing way than
Daisy did! Seriously, thank you. I actually get it now. I feel a little
more prepared to go back in there.” I glanced in the direction of the
back room.
“Well, hey, any time you need me to explain some Weirdo
Science to you, just let me know.” Tucker grinned.
Okay, he obviously was not going to let me forget that
remark. Better just go along with it. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Weirdo.
Where will you be presenting next? In the graveyard?”
“Yes, the mausoleum, specifically. If you come, bring a
small animal so I can show you the proper sacrifice technique.”
I covered my mouth to stifle my laugh so it didn’t disrupt the
silence of the store. “I’ll be there. But first, I need to go back and
learn more about ghost hunting.”
“Good luck!” He picked up Fight Club again and turned his
attention back to it after one final smile.
When I went back into the room, we listened to Daisy and
Richard tell us all about protecting ourselves. Apparently, since
ghosts were made of energy, we needed to use energy to shield
ourselves from them. Different things could help with this, such as
stones and candles or incense, all of which apparently had their own
meaning. Most of the protection, however, involved calling upon
help from whatever higher power we believed in. This shocked me,
too; I had no idea that ghost hunters were religious. Again, I had
been picturing Satan worshippers or atheists at best.
Finally, they gave us their group’s protocol for conducting
an investigation. At that point, I was already turning over too much
information in my mind to pay too much attention. I didn’t plan
turning this into a career, anyway. Even if after those four hours, it
was slightly less scary than it had been in the beginning.
Once they brought their presentation to a close, people in the
room started to crowd around them with questions. My dad looked
at them longingly for a moment before shaking his head. “Not worth
10

trying to break through that crowd. I took one of their business cards
if I have any questions for them.”
Feeling surprisingly not scared at all after sitting through a
Ghost Hunting 101 class, I teased, “Are you going to become a ghost
hunter by night now, Dad?”
He let out a belly laugh. “I wish. You know between both of
my jobs I wouldn’t have time for it.” Just the same, his face was
absolutely glowing. “Thanks for coming with me, Chels.”
“No problem. I actually kind of enjoyed it,” I admitted.
The man seriously couldn’t have been happier if I’d told him
I was getting a free ride to Harvard. “See? I told you it wasn’t scary!
I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”
When we passed by the counter, Tucker was no longer
sitting behind it reading an awesome book. Once we got to the front
of the store, I saw why: he was flipping the open sign on the door.
“Do you commonly keep your store open for fellow
weirdos?” I asked.
“Chelsea!” my dad exclaimed in horror.
Tucker turned around, a smile playing on his face once more.
“Only for cute weirdos,” he answered with another wink.
I laughed. No way was he serious. “Thank you again for
explaining EMF Meters to me.”
“Sure. If you ever have any more questions, you know where
to find me.” He stepped back to hold the door open for us so we
could exit.
“Thanks.” I smiled at him one more time before I followed
my dad out the door.
My mind was racing with all the information it was trying to
process from the night as Dad gabbed on about how that was the
coolest thing he’d ever done. Overall, I hadn’t been scared at all,
except for maybe a few seconds when they were talking about the
spirits that might try to hurt us. But there were ways to protect
ourselves against them. And, really, even though it was weird and
kind of out there, it was pretty interesting.
11

Wow. Chelsea Keller just used ghost hunting and interesting
in the same sentence. And it was completely void of sarcasm. Who
knew?
12

Chapter Two
It didn’t take me long to decide that I was going to have to
go back to The End Shelf and ask Tucker some more questions. I
didn’t really have much time to think about it while I was at work
the next day, except a little in the slow time between ticket sales.
Then, when I came home from the movie theater smelling like a
mixture of popcorn and disappointed audiences, I found it wasn’t
going to be so easy to push it from my mind.
The second I walked through the door, I saw that there was
something standing between me and my beloved shower. That
something was in the form of my ten-year-old brother, who literally
leapt from the couch the moment I stepped inside.
“Chelsea! Tell me about the ghost hunting class!” He wore
my mother’s huge smile plastered across his face as he bounded over
to me. At his side was the skinny black frame of Trouble, who
knocked his head into my knees and wagged his feathery tail. The
dog was all short hair except that tail and some fuzzy tufts around
his ears.
As I bent down to scratch our dog’s shoulders, Gunner
grinned at me expectantly. “Did they teach you about the advantages
of different types of EMF meters? Cell sensors?”
“Yeah, probably. I mean, they told us a lot. I think Dad is
probably going to remember more than I am.” I tried to move past
him so I could at least make some progress toward the bathroom,
but Trouble stayed pressed tightly against my knees.
My brother was not about to be deterred so easily. “Well, tell
me what you do remember! Dad is working late again. I don’t know
when I’ll see him again to ask him. Come on, Chels. I’d have killed
to be able to go!”
“Really? You’d kill someone?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes. Then I’d have a ready-made ghost.” He fought to hide
the smile that was threatening to burst forth again.
“That has bad idea written all over it.” I stepped right over
the dog, but instead of heading for the shower, I plopped down on
13

the couch. “Your first ghost encounter would be with someone you
just killed.”
“It wouldn’t be my first! I’ve had weird things happen
before,” Gunner insisted. He scooted over and sat down on the other
end of the couch. His sneakers pressed against my thigh as he
stretched out.
“Well, Grasshopper, there are human spirits and there are
nonhuman spirits. Not all of them are going to be bad, but you don’t
want to mess with the nonhuman spirits. Those are the ones that can
go all Exorcist. But there are ways to protect yourself from them,
like with energy and rocks. And they told us about the equipment
and how to conduct an investigation at someone’s house, but that’s
the kind of stuff you want to ask Dad.”
My brother laughed. “You would remember stuff that could
go Exorcist on you instead of the technical stuff.”
I reached over and swatted at his dark hair. “Hush, punk. I
learned what an EMF meter is.”
He raised his hands to protect himself and grabbed my wrist
to keep me away. “I know that already. It sounds like all the things
you’ll remember are the things I read about. I want to know about
the equipment they use.”
“Well, excuse me! I was kind of busy trying not to pee
myself when I walked in, thank you very much.” I pulled my arm
back and punched his shoe lightly instead.
“Did you?”
“Yes, I did. They had to get newspapers for me to sit on.”
Gunner giggled again, but then seriousness blanketed his
face. “I wish I could have been there.”
The disappointment in his brown eyes tugged sadly at my
heart. He would have appreciated the class way more than I had.
Granted, a new found interest had bloomed somewhere in my head,
but my brother legitimately loved this stuff as much as my dad did.
And ever since Mom had left, he hadn’t exactly been having the time
of his life, either.
Suddenly, the light bulb clicked on over my head. “Hey, you
know the place where they had the class, The End Shelf? It’s a little
14

used book store. Well, the guy who was working there is a member
of the paranormal group. I can go back and ask him some questions
for you if you want.”
His face instantly snapped from dejected to excited again.
“Oh, really? That would be awesome!”
“Sure. I have the early shift on Monday, so I can head over
after work.”
Gunner jumped up from the couch once again, giving my leg
a good kick as he did. “Okay! I’ll make a list of things for you to ask
him.” With that, he disappeared down the hall, presumably to his
room to immediately make up his list.
The kid was so let down that he didn’t get to come with us
to the class. I mean, I owed it to him to try and find out some more
information, right?
So, Monday afternoon, I walked into The End Shelf with
Gunner’s list of questions tucked into the back pocket of my shorts.
The familiar musty, hot air greeted me as I headed right for the back
counter. Just as I hoped he’d be, Tucker was sitting there, his head
bent over another book. Suddenly, the awkward fairy tapped me on
the shoulder with her wand and I stopped in my tracks. What if he
was just being nice? What if he really didn’t want to explain things
to me?
Too late to run away. He looked up from his book and his
eyes literally bugged out. It was like, one second he was calm, and
the next, a dinosaur sauntered into his store and asked for a book on
muffin baking.
“Hi,” I said, forcing my feet to move the last few steps
toward the counter.
“Hey!” he greeted me, shaking the surprise off his face. “I
didn’t expect to see you back here.”
“Is it not a good time?” I asked.
Tucker laughed. “No, no! I’m a little swamped with
customers right now, but I can set some time aside for you. What’s
up?”
15

“I had a few questions.” I reached behind me and pulled the
folded-up paper out of my pocket. “Well, actually, my little brother
had a few questions.”
He raised his eyebrows, looking surprised again, but I think
a little pleased. “By all means. What can I do to help Little Keller?”
“He wants to know about the equipment you use.” I laid the
list on the counter, smoothing it out so he could read it despite the
folds.
Tucker scanned Gunner’s scratchy handwriting, a grin
playing across his lips. “And how old is your brother?”
“He’s ten, why?”
“Wow, the kid knows his stuff. Have you looked at this?”
I shook my head. “I figured the technical stuff I probably
wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“He’s basically asking me about all these different brands of
meters and sensors and what are the best ones. To be honest, I
haven’t even heard of half of them. I’m going to give him the name
of a website that has a bunch of different equipment types on it with
reviews of all of them. He can look into it and see what other people
who have used them have said.” He glanced around on the desk until
he found a pen.
“Oh, man, Gunner is going to die.” I grinned. “Thanks so
much.”
“No problem! He wants to be a ghost hunter, huh?” Tucker
finished writing and pushed the list back over to me.
“Well, he’s read every book in the library on the subject,
along with a ton from Amazon, and our TiVo is overflowing with
recorded episodes of paranormal TV shows. I’d say yeah, he’s
thinking about it.” I folded up the paper and stuck it back into my
pocket.
He smiled. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you given the ghost hunting thing any more thought?”
I should have expected that question. Honestly, the answer
was a resounding yes. I had absolutely been thinking about ghost
hunting all weekend. Especially once I knew I’d be seeing Tucker
16

again. I had plenty of questions of my own that had nothing to do
with Gunner’s, but it still felt so strange to me that I actually wanted
to know.
He must have noticed the gears turning behind my eyes,
because he sat back on his stool like he was getting comfortable.
“Okay. This is new to me, so bear with me.”
Tucker just spread his palms and gave a small smile.
It was as if I had a bucketful of questions and he had just
tipped it over. They were swimming all over my head, crashing
against my brain like waves, one after another spraying up. I wasn’t
sure where to a start. After a moment, I decided on one. “So, where
do you find ghosts, exactly?”
“In short?” he responded. “Everywhere.”
Yup. That was the kind of answer that made me scared to
ask my questions. “They don’t just stay where they died like in the
movies, do they?”
He shook his head. “Think about it. If you died, would you
want to stay wherever it was that you passed away? A hospital or
your bed? Sure, I mean, you’ll find some hanging out in those
places, but for the most part, we’ve found that ghosts haunt where
they lived. Places they enjoyed being while they were alive.
Sometimes places where there were significantly emotional or
traumatic events like battlefields and schools. But there aren’t really
any rules. They can pretty much go wherever they want, whenever
they want.”
“So you really can’t even assume you know who it is that’s
hanging around,” I mused. “I mean, if there was an old man who
passed away in his house, he might not be there anymore once he
was dead. But someone else might be.”
“Exactly. The most important thing to remember is as much
as we’ve learned about the subject in recent years, there is still so
much we don’t know. There aren’t any definite answers.”
I paused to let this sink in. They had mentioned this on
Friday night, but there was so much information all at once that it
hadn’t really hit me. In theory, Tucker was telling me there could be
17

a ghost right next to me at any given time. I wasn’t safe from them
anywhere.
Thinking about safety brought up another question. “What
about protecting yourself? I know Daisy was talking about stones
having different properties. And something about energy.”
“There are way too many stones for me to explain to you
right now,” he said with an easy laugh. “But if you search online for
the properties of different stones, you’ll find plenty of lists that
explain what each of them do.”
I nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”
“As for the energy aspect? Ghosts are attracted to energy,
but in the same sense, you can use your energy as a shield around
yourself. It’s all about visualization. Eventually you can train
yourself to feel all the energy around you, but it takes time and work,
and at this point you might be more comfortable not being able to
feel that kind of thing. For now, if you ever get scared, try just
visualizing yourself surrounded in white light. Or you could try
armor. That’s what I do.” I thought I saw a slight blush creep onto
his pale cheeks.
Okay, information overload. I held up my hand. “Alright, I
have about 1,000 more questions that came up now. I’m going to go
do what you said and look around online for some answers and see
what I can sort out on my own.”
Tucker laughed. “Sounds like a plan. But remember, you can
ask me anything whenever you want. Same goes for your brother —
what’s his name?”
“Gunner,” I answered. “And thank you again. I need to
process the fact that there are dead people walking around all over
the place. Walking — do they walk? Or do they float? Wait, don’t
tell me. There are no rules and they can do whatever they want.”
His grin stretched straight from one ear to the other. “Now
you’re getting it. But remember, you are safe from these floating and
walking and moonwalking dead people as long as you envision
yourself as safe and protected.”
18

“I’m walking out of here in full knight’s gear. Chain mail
and all. I even have a mouth guard.” I stood rigidly at attention like
I imagined a soldier would.
“Well done, Sir Keller.” He nodded and picked up his book
where he’d left it on the counter. “It was good seeing you again.
Seriously, don’t be shy about stopping back in.”
“Don’t worry. If I don’t have any questions, I’m sure Gunner
will. Bye, Tucker!” As I turned and headed for the front door, I
couldn’t help but glance around me like I was going to see someone
standing between the shelves. I had opened a door that my dad and
brother liked to hang around, the door that let me in on the idea that
spirits were all around us all the time.
As predicted, when I got home, Gunner immediately
snatched the list with the website written on it out of my hands and
made a beeline for the computer. I had to wait a few hours for him
to be done researching his equipment, but when he was finally
finished, it was my turn.
I spent a good few hours looking up all the different types of
stones and crystals available for psychic protection. There were
endless charts that listed hundreds upon hundreds of different rocks
with all sorts of properties. Some of them were grounding while
others enhanced the psychic abilities. Some repelled negative
energy and some absorbed it.
At one point, Gunner poked his head back into the den.
“Chelsea, can I … what are you doing?” He immediately hurried
over to my side to peer at the screen. “Are you looking up ghost
stuff?”
My face promptly turned the color of Rudolph’s nose and I
tried to appear nonchalant. No big deal, just the world’s biggest
pansy looking into something she’d always been vehemently
against. “Um, yeah. A little.”
Instead of making fun of me, literally the biggest smile in the
history of smiles of the world spread over my brother’s face. I swear
his chest was swelling up. Was he proud of me? For some reason,
even though he was just a kid who was ten years younger than me,
this gave me a serious case of the warm fuzzies.
19

“That’s awesome! You’re checking out the stones?” He
perched on the arm of the swivel chair.
“Yeah. I figured if I’m gonna start, I might as well start with
protecting myself before reaching out or anything.”
“That’s smart. You never know what you’re going to run
into completely by accident. Timmy Johansson says he has a demon
in his closet. I don’t believe him really, because I think if it was an
actual demon he’d probably be throwing desks across the classroom
or something. But I do think there’s probably something not nice in
his house.”
“Timmy Johansson is going to give me a heart attack. Go
easy on me, Gun, I’m new at this.” I clicked the “back” button on
my browser to return to the search engine.
“Sorry. I just think it’s awesome. Maybe we can have a ghost
hunting team together. Like the guys on TV. But siblings.”
“What did I just say? Easy!” I shoved his shoulder playfully.
He lost his balance and had to stand up so he wouldn’t fall right off
the chair.
Gunner was still grinning brightly. “Promise if you start
ghost hunting that I can come with you one day. I know I’m
supposed to be too young right now, but I want to do it one day.
Especially if you’re going to do it.”
“Don’t worry, Gunner. You’re the first person I’d want to
bring with me.”
By Thursday, I was pulling up in front of The End Shelf
again with a new list of questions from Gunner and a whole army of
my own. Part of me was trying to be logical and tell myself not to
bother Tucker so much, but a bigger part of me, the curious part,
was snowballing out of control. And Gunner was giving me some
hefty nudges down the mountain.
This time, when I walked in, there were actually other people
in the store. A balding man in a brown tweed coat down to his knees
was perusing the mystery section, and two girls probably around my
brother’s age were checking out the vampire romance books.
20

“I have good news. The future leaders of America are
reading paranormal erotica in aisle 3,” I announced as I approached
the counter.
Tucker’s head shot up like I’d come in to the store breathing
fire. He must have been really engrossed in the book in his lap. After
a moment, he recovered from his initial shock and smiled. “That is
reassuring news. And don’t worry; they know what Kim Kardashian
had for dinner last night, but still nothing about our government.”
A laugh bubbled up in my throat. I was learning very quickly
that ghost hunters weren’t the weird people I had expected them to
be. My little brother, while unique, wasn’t a freak. And Tucker was
able to hold a conversation with pop culture references. They didn’t
spend all their time in the dark drawing pentagrams on the walls in
cat’s blood.
“How are you doing?” he asked as he set his book down on
the counter. Today’s specimen was The Count of Monte Cristo.
“Well, I’ve lived a few days with dead people floating,
walking, and moonwalking all around me. I’d say I’m doing well.”
I tugged the list out of my pocket again and held it out to him. “I
come bearing more questions from Gunner. And a few from
myself.”
Tucker’s dark eyes held more appreciation than they had on
Monday. Was he that happy that I was becoming so interested? I
guess one more person whose denial had been vanquished was a
victory for him.
“Let’s see what I can do for you today.” He started unfolding
the new piece of paper.
“Thank you, Sensei. I looked into the crystals like you
suggested. No wonder you couldn’t explain them to me the other
day; there are so many!” I slid both my hands into my back pockets.
He let out a laugh. “Yeah, you should see my collection. I’ve
got a whole case of them.”
“Do you always carry them with you?” I asked. I
remembered reading that people would get out of bed in the morning
and decide which crystals felt right for them to carry on that
particular day. Then they’d leave them in their pockets constantly.
21

“Usually.” He reached inside the collar of his baby-blue polo
and pulled out a thin black rope. It was threaded through a small
chunk of black stone. “This is obsidian. Apache Tear, to be exact.
It’s for grounding and protection. I never take it off except to clean
it.”
I was about to ask where I could get one, but at that moment
the two vampire girls popped up out of nowhere with armloads of
books.
“Excuse me, mister, how much are these?” one of them
asked.
“Those are a dollar a piece. How many do you have there?”
Tucker asked. He tucked my brother’s list into his own book and
placed it somewhere behind the counter.
“I have six, and she has six. But we’re gonna grab some more
since they’re not that much.” The girls dropped their books on the
floor and disappeared back into the stacks.
Before I could get in the way, I started to back up towards
the door. “Looks like duty calls. I’ll stop back in another time. Or
would this be easier when you’re not working?”
Tucker stood up off his stool and leaned against the counter.
“Actually, it probably would be a lot easier. Do you want to meet up
somewhere else?”
“Sure. Do you live around here?” A little voice in my head
was murmuring something about talking to strangers I barely knew,
but my curiosity was greater than my sense of caution. I wasn’t as
scared by the living as I was by the dead.
“Literally around the block.”
“Okay. I’m not far at all, either. What about the little coffee
house down the street?”
He nodded. “You mean Joe Bean’s? Sounds good to me.
When are you free?”
“Sunday I’m only working until four.”
“Meet you Sunday night at eight?”
“I’ll see you then.” By that time I had reached the door, so
with a little wave I turned around and pushed my way out into the
warm summer air.
22

23

Chapter 3
There had been a time when both of my parents would have
wanted to know where I was going on Sunday night. They would
have asked me who I would be with and when I would be back. But
Dad was at work and Mom was who-knew-where, so only Gunner
was there to wave goodbye to me from his spot on the couch.
As I got behind the wheel of my Honda, my nerves really
started to kick into high gear. The past few days had me wondering
if this was really a good idea. I wasn’t too worried about Tucker; he
seemed like a nice enough guy. I was more concerned with whether
or not I really wanted to kick this door open all the way. Sure, I had
been asking questions and doing some research, but it had all been
from a relative distance. Now I was on the road to making friends
with a ghost hunter who seemed very enthusiastic about converting
me into one as well.
At what point would I be in too deep to ever back out again?
For just a second, I considered turning off the car and going
back inside. I could just avoid The End Shelf for the rest of my life
and Tucker would never know what happened. He might be a little
pissed about being ditched, but as time went on and he never saw
me again, he’d have to resign himself to the idea that something
urgent had come up to prevent me from getting there that one
Sunday night. And he would raise his head from his books every
now and then when the door to the store opened up, wondering if it
might be Chelsea Keller, returning to apologize and giving him a
chance to finally chew her out for being a turd nugget.
Okay, working at a movie theater was definitely affecting
my imagination.
I stepped on the gas and pulled onto the street. There was no
way I could ever be okay with completely flaking on him without so
much as a phone call. And I didn’t have his phone number, so I was
stuck. Maybe I had already passed the point of no return.
For a Sunday night, downtown Bethany was pretty active.
All the small local shops had little white lights framing their
windows, even the ones that were closed for the evening. Most of
24

the parking spots were filled up and a surprising amount of people
were wandering leisurely along the sidewalks.
After a vicious stare down with a little old woman over the
last parking spot on my side of the street, I managed to walk up to
Joe Bean’s just as the alarm on my phone went off to tell me it was
8 o’clock. I was about to head for the door, but then I saw Tucker
waving at me from one of the little green tables set up on the
sidewalk.
Even better. With the crazy AC inside the place, I would
have gotten really cold really fast. I flip-flopped my way over to his
table and pulled out my chair. It screeched unpleasantly against the
concrete in protest until I plopped my butt down in it, dropped my
hands into my lap, and smiled. “Fancy meeting you here!” It was so
warm out that the metal chair wasn’t even chilly on my bare skin.
“Hello to you too,” he greeted me with a return smile. He
was wearing a kelly-green t-shirt with the Boondock Saints prayer
printed on it in white lettering.
Before I could compliment his choice of attire, he produced
Gunner’s piece of paper and placed it lightly on the table in front of
me. “All his questions answered to the best of my ability. I gave him
my email, too, in case he wants to ask me more.”
I groaned in mock sympathy. “You have no idea what
you’ve done.”
Tucker laughed. “I don’t mind. I like kids.”
“Then you’ll love me. I’m more of a kid than he is any day
of the week.”
At that moment, a barista in an orange apron popped into
view and asked if I wanted anything. When I glanced at Tucker, I
noticed the little green cup already in front of him. I ordered a Chai
and a slice of pumpkin bread.
Once she was gone, I leaned in and whispered, “Good. She’s
gone. Now we can talk about the forbidden subject. The one that
would make the rest of the world think we’re crazy if they overheard
us.”
Tucker raised an eyebrow. “It’s ‘we’ now, huh? A week ago
you thought I was the crazy one for believing in ghosts.”
25

I raised a finger in protest. “I believe the term I used was
‘weirdo,’ not crazy. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Another laugh fell softly from his lips. “Okay, then, my
fellow weirdo. What did you want to ask me the other day before we
were interrupted by Bella Swan?”
“Let me start with this: What made you get into ghost
hunting? You’ve witnessed my glorious crossing. But what about
you?” I tucked my legs up onto the chair alongside me. Now that we
were becoming friends, I figured I might as well learn a thing or two
about him as well as about my new interest.
He looked surprised again. “Not exactly what I was
expecting. But okay, let’s see. I guess I’ve always been interested in
it. I was kind of like your dad when I was a lot younger. I just thought
the paranormal was the coolest thing. I loved the movies and scary
stories and everything.
“Then when I was in college, my best friend, Susannah,
started having some creepy experiences in her dorm room. So a few
of my friends and I thought we could go ahead and just ghost hunt
like they did on TV. We got a bunch of voice recorders and video
cameras and set about trying to tell whatever it was to leave
Susannah alone. Since we didn’t know anything more than what
we’d seen in the media, we wound up ending the night early once
my buddy Ethan got a glass thrown at him.
“After that we got knocked off our high horses and we
wound up contacting Lark Hollow Paranormal to ask for some help.
They set the record straight and we found out that the spirit in
Susannah’s dorm was a pervy kind of middle-aged man who — for
some reason unbeknownst to us — did not want to leave the girls’
dorm. Go figure, right?
“Anyway, from there, we wanted to be legitimate, so we
wound up signing up for Lark Hollow’s training program, and they
made ghost hunters out of us. Susannah, Ethan, and I are the only
ones who are still in it right now; the rest of them dropped out
somewhere along the way. But we take it really seriously. We’ve
been doing it for six years now, since we were twenty-one.”
26

Somewhere in the middle of the story, the barista had set
down my Chai and pumpkin bread, so I picked up my tea and sipped
it gingerly. I hadn’t known that he was a whole seven years older
than me. He just seemed so easygoing and young, not at all like most
thirty-year-olds I’d met. Then again, the ones I worked with were
thirty and still working at a movie theater, so maybe they weren’t
the best examples to judge by.
“That’s cool that your friends are into it, too,” I mused,
thinking that Michelle would never go for this kind of thing. She had
always teased my dad and brother for even believing in ghosts in the
first place.
“Well, you’ve got a friend now, too,” he pointed out. “I’m
not going anywhere.”
I smiled. “Thank you. A friend who has some serious
experience in the area, might I add. Hopefully no one will be
throwing glasses at my head anytime soon.”
Tucker laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. You’re
wearing armor, remember?”
“Seriously, with the armor.” I set my cup down on the table
again. “It’s as simple as just picturing it, and it’s there?”
He shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, you need to believe that
it’s really there and that you’re surrounded by protection and
nothing’s going to get you. But yeah, you just need to imagine it
being there, and it’s there. Energy is a lot bigger than what we know
on a physical level. You just kinda have to trust that the good is
always going to be stronger than the bad.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “So I know how you started. I know
how I started. I know how to protect myself, more or less. I know
there are human spirits and nonhuman spirits. But what about this
residual haunting thing? Gunner mentioned it once or twice and I
know it came up in the class. What does it mean exactly?”
A smile flickered over his pale face. “Residual haunting is
kind of tricky to grasp. Basically, everything around us acts as a tape
recorder, and if there was an event that was significant enough, it
records it and will play it back. There is no actual spirit present, but
you might see a girl run up the stairs every night at the same time.
27

You might hear a gunshot on a battlefield. You might hear a cabinet
slam or watch a lady in a window of the house across the street.
There is no intelligent spirit present, just playback of something that
happened a long time ago.”
“Okay, so the dead floaty people have tape recorders now.
Cool.” I pressed my palm against my forehead and grinned at him
from behind my hand. “There is so much to this. And let me guess,
you can’t even tell me 100 percent that’s the actual definition of a
residual haunting, either?”
He shook his head, also grinning. “Nope. It’s generally
agreed that that’s what it is, but how could we know for sure? We
won’t until we’re dead, too. And at that point I’m guessing I’ll be
hightailing it to a beach in Hawaii and not really concerned with
trying to solve the mysteries of the living.”
“Ooh, good point. I think I’d probably go to Alaska, though,
instead of Hawaii. I really want to see the Northern Lights.” Argh,
quiet, Chelsea. He’s here to answer questions about ghosts, not
discuss your dream honeymoon.
“You know, you’re right. If we’re dead, I doubt we’ll feel
the cold anyway. I’ll put that on my after-bucket list.” Tucker mimed
opening a pad in his hand and writing on it.
“So now I’m jumping on the Gunner wagon.” I decided to
switch subjects before he got bored of talking about my little girl
dreams. “Tell me more about the equipment. You explained EMF
meters to me. Please tell me what else you ghost hunters use.”
“Well, we have the basic digital cameras and video cameras.
Motion sensors so if something moves in a room you’ll know. Audio
recorders. Temperature readers. And flashlights.”
I bobbed my head. “I wish I had some glasses so I could look
at you intelligently over them as we discuss the technical aspect.”
He let loose another laugh. “Hey, relax. You seem to be
absorbing it just fine. Like I said, Lark Hollow trained me for three
months to teach me all this stuff in depth.”
“True.” I went through the list of equipment in my head
again. Cameras. Video cameras. Motion sensors. Audio recorders.
Temperature readers. Flashlights. Got it. “What about all the other
28

stuff they use on TV? Whenever Gunner watches these guys, it
seems like they’ve got fancy laser grids and beeping toys and
things.”
Tucker picked up his coffee cup but didn’t take a sip. “Okay,
don’t go by what they do on TV. Truthfully, a lot of the time they
aren’t even using the basic equipment the right way. What I told you
is really all you’ll need to know for right now. Anything else you
use will just be some sort of variation of one of those. For instance,
some of the cameras will have night vision or infrared capabilities.
Or a vibration sensor will light up rather than make noise like a
motion sensor might, but they’re really the same thing with different
names. There are some really fancy things that have been designed,
but you don’t need to worry about those unless you’re seriously
going to start ghost hunting. And even then you wouldn’t need to
for a while.”
“Is that what Gunner was asking you about?” I asked,
picking up his piece of paper and unfolding it.
“Gunner asked me how to alter a digital camera so it can
have infrared capabilities.”
“Right.” I instantly folded the paper back up again and
slipped it into the front pocket of my shorts. “Well, never mind that.”
I was pretty impressed by everything that I had learned in the
half hour since I’d arrived at Joe Bean’s. I had a basic understanding
of almost all the things they had gone over in the class. The only
thing that I didn’t remember at all was the correct conduction of an
investigation. But I wasn’t completely positive that I wanted to hear
all that yet.
“So, how was work today?” Tucker asked.
It was my turn to look up in surprise. I had really thought he
only was offering to talk about ghost hunting because he had some
experience and I didn’t. But now he was making small talk that was
completely unrelated.
“Work was fine, thanks. I work at the movie theater in
Tremblay. The early shift is a little unpleasant because, well, it’s
early. And it’s slow. Not too many people come to see movies on a
Sunday before noon. But you do get in for five bucks!” I added.
29

“Get out. That’s awesome. I’m never paying ten fifty again.”
Tucker grinned.
“When do you get days off? You’ve been in The End Shelf
every time I’ve come in,” I pointed out.
“Well, I own it, so I’m kind of there all the time.”
“You what?” I was shocked at first, but then when I thought
about it, it didn’t seem all that unlikely. He had graduated college
and had a degree in something. The guy had to have a job to support
himself by then, unless he was still living in his mom’s house.
“Yeah. I bought it from the last owner two years ago.” His
smile was kind of faraway, like he was thinking about skating down
a rainbow or something dreamy. “I love books. I worked at Barnes
& Noble to get me through college, but I always appreciated the
small businesses more.”
“Books, ghosts, and movies. Tell me you don’t like really
bad music and we can be best friends,” I pressed.
“If you call my 80s music bad, I will walk away right now.”
His face was only serious for a moment before the laugh burst
through. “I’m sorry. I do like good music. Mostly classic rock, but I
love the awful 80s stuff too. Anything from that decade, really.”
“Hmm. Not so much on board with my Breaking Benjamin
and Five Finger Death Punch, but I think I can tolerate it.” I
munched on my pumpkin bread and my toes curled from the
absolute deliciousness.
“At least it’s not Justin Bieber,” he pointed out.
“Touché.” I reached across the table for a high-five.
I’m not sure how long we wound up sitting there for, but it
was long enough for my hair to start frizzing from the humidity. The
conversation didn’t return to ghost hunting for quite some time. He
told me about his crazy long hours working at the store. Because of
these hours, he was able to live on his own in an apartment just a
few streets away, right in Bethany. I couldn’t get him to pin a
favorite book or movie, but his cinematic taste seemed to cling to
the 80s just as his music taste did. He had no brothers or sisters, and
his parents had moved to Florida when they retired after he
graduated from college. He didn’t mention a girlfriend, so I gathered
30

he was pretty much alone around here. This explained why he didn’t
mind hanging out with some little girl who talked too much during
the small amount of free time that he hadn’t promised to The End
Shelf or Lark Hollow Paranormal.
In return, I told him that I was still living at home with my
dad and brother and going to community college part time while I
worked full time at the theater. My music taste was a little more
modern, but I could appreciate movies from any era, and when I
found out he loved Mark Wahlberg as much as I did, I knew we had
solid ground to build upon.
Eventually, he pushed back his chair, making another oh-sopleasant
scraping sound on the ground. Most of the people around
us had cleared out of their tables, and the sidewalks around us were
decidedly less crowded as well. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got
to be up early for work tomorrow. Do you want to take my number
so you can just call me or text me if you’ve got a question?”
“Sure. Or we could do this again.” I pulled my phone out of
my pocket and handed it over to him. He entered his number and
passed it back to me. After I called him so he had mine as well, I
pocketed my cell again.
“I would be okay with that.” He smiled as he stood up,
displaying just how tall he was as his head almost hit the umbrella
over the table.
“Me, too.” My head barely came up to his shoulder when I
rose to stand next to him. “Thank you for answering all my
questions. And for answering Gunner’s. And for hanging out with
me.”
“Don’t mention it, really. I’m glad to share my passion.” The
little white lights around the shop’s window reflected in his dark
eyes.
“Passion. For dead things.” I stroked a make-believe beard
thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have given you a fake number.”
He laughed. “Thank you for hanging out with me, Chelsea.
You’re great. I’m kind of hoping you decide you want to ghost hunt.
I could bring you on a case with me just to see if you like it or not.”
31

“You could do that? I mean, just let me tag along? I thought
I needed training.”
“You do. But not just to come along and observe. Plus, I’m
kind of high up now. I’m an assistant director. They’ll trust me if I
say you’re okay.”
“Well, I’ll think about it. Thanks for sticking your neck out
for me.” I smiled and reached out for a one-armed hug.
He returned the same one-armed gesture and we hugged
awkwardly as two new friends do. Then I gave him a little wiggle
of my fingers. “I’ll be in touch. Be safe driving home; I know you’ve
got a long way to go!”
Tucker laughed. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.”
The next day, Michelle and I finally had a schedule that
matched up, so at 6:00 she was knocking at my front door with a
massive pepperoni and sausage pizza from Antonio’s. I reached out
like I was going to hug her but made a big show of snatching the
box from her and rushing away. She darted after me, leaving the
front door wide open as we ran into the kitchen. Trouble darted
around our feet and barked at us as he tried to jump up at the food.
“Hello, Michelle!” Gunner called. We heard him shut the
front door behind us.
“Hi, Gunner!” she shouted back, pulling her pin-straight
butt-length black hair back into a ponytail so she wouldn’t get it on
her pizza. I’d been trying to grow my own hair as long as hers for
years but it never quite got past my elbows.
We plopped down in front of the TV with several slices
apiece and immediately turned on The Departed. Gunner came to sit
down with us, but he had one of his ghost research books with him,
so it was apparent that he would only be half-involved in the
conversation. Trouble situated his skinny body on the floor between
my friend and me, with his head resting on the couch for best crumbcatching
access.
“So how has your week been?” Michelle asked through a
mouthful of cheese. “I feel like we’ve barely seen each other yet this
summer!”
32

“To be fair, you’re working two jobs,” I replied, sucking
some sauce off my thumb.
“That is fair,” she agreed. “But you should see the student
loans I’m racking up at school down in Jersey. I gotta save some
money.”
“I hear you,” I reassured her as I very attractively guzzled an
entire crust in one bite.
“How was school this semester?” Gunner piped up.
“It was school, you know. How was school for you?” she
asked. “Or more importantly, how’s your summer going?”
He shrugged, looking up at us over his book. “It’s okay. I’m
not doing much. Timmy Johansson keeps telling me he has a ghost
in his house but he won’t let me come over and see it.”
Michelle immediately whipped around. “Oh, my gosh, that’s
right. How was your ghost hunting class? You never gave me the
full details.”
I dabbed my napkin at my face in a very ladylike manner to
make up for the beastly way I had wolfed down my pizza. “It was
actually surprisingly interesting.”
Her heavily-lined eyes widened. “You’re shitting me.”
“Not. I actually enjoyed it. I made friends with one of the
group members and I’ve been asking him questions about it. He
wants me to try it out for myself.”
“Hold on. ‘He’?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Yes, he. But not he he. He’s kind of geeky. Like, really pale
and scrawny.” Instantly I felt bad for saying that, but I had to dismiss
any ideas she was getting that I might be interested in Tucker.
She nodded, looking a little disappointed. Michelle never
really dated any boys, since she was agonizingly shy around anyone
that wasn’t me. So she liked to try and live vicariously through my
experiences. Which, let me tell you, were not all that many.
“His name’s Tucker. He owns The End Shelf, which is
where they had the class. I went back a few times with some
questions from both Gunner and myself, and then we hung out on
Sunday night.”
33

This time her eyebrows turned downward. “You hung out
with him? You don’t even know who he is. Except he’s into that
weird ghost hunting stuff.”
“I resent that,” Gunner piped up.
“Not you, Gunner. You know you’re like my son.”
“Heaven forbid,” he quipped.
“It’s not that weird. Well, I mean, it is weird, but it’s not
what I thought it was going to be at all. It’s not all pentagrams and
sheep’s blood or anything. They are actually really respectful and
scientific.” I tried not to get defensive, but I felt my blood getting a
little heated up. I didn’t want her to think I was being silly or
irresponsible. Tucker wasn’t dangerous, and as far as I could tell,
neither was ghost hunting.
Michelle didn’t look convinced at all. She had stopped eating
her pizza and was staring at me with a concerned expression
distorting the thousands of freckles on her nose.
“Look, I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m not, like,
going and hanging out at his house or anything where he could trap
me in his basement and sacrifice me to Beelzebub. We hung out
down in Bethany at Joe Bean’s for a few hours. And I swear, ghost
hunting isn’t what we thought it was going to be.”
At that point, Trouble decided that pizza crumbs weren’t
worth sitting through the tension in the room, so he got up and
padded away. A few moments later I heard his nails clicking on the
floor in the kitchen as he tried his luck with the scraps in there.
“She’s right, Michelle,” Gunner came to my defense. “It’s
not like you see in the movies. I mean, it could be, but the chances
of that are so small. And Chelsea could get out of a bad situation
before it got really bad. She’s not in any danger. Plus, Tucker has
been doing this for years. He knows what he’s talking about. He’s
not a crack head.”
“How do you know this?” I demanded.
“I emailed him. I wanted to make sure he was a reliable
source. And I wanted to make sure he was nice.” My brother’s face
was as red as my hair.
34

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hit him or hug him. It was sweet
that he wanted to look out for me, but I didn’t need a ten-year-old
watching what I was doing. I didn’t need Michelle giving me that
disapproving look, either. I was taking an interest in something that
had always scared me and facing down one of my fears, and now
everyone else was nervous for me. How was I ever going to shake it
off if they were still hanging on to it for me?
“Look, can we change the subject?” I requested. “I would
like to enjoy Mark Wahlberg without being lectured, if that’s all
right with you two.”
“That is more than all right with me!” Michelle agreed,
hunkering down into the pillows in the corner of the couch. “We
should have picked a shirtless one, though.”
Gunner finished the conversation with a distinct “Eww.”
35

Chapter Four
I spent the following day thinking hard about Michelle’s
reaction to my new found interest in the paranormal. We had the
coveted “best friends since kindergarten” label that girls always read
about in books or saw in movies but couldn’t actually maintain.
She’d always been supportive of anything I did, even when I decided
not to go away to school so I could stay home and make money to
help out my dad. But now that I was standing up in the face of
something she knew terrified me, rather than being happy and
encouraging me, she was being overly cautious.
Granted, ghost hunting wasn’t exactly the same as school or
a job, and not that long ago I had been reacting the same way to it.
But if I was telling her that it was okay, then she should have trusted
me. I had never done anything overly stupid in the entire time she
had known me, which was a good three quarters of our lives. I mean,
sure, there had been the one time I smoked because my longtime
crush Aidan Jenkins offered it to me. And there were other times
when I had a little too much to drink at a football game and spent
the rest of the night puking at her house. But those were honest
mistakes that probably ninety percent of kids will fall for at some
point. For the most part, I had always been smart and level-headed
and capable of making my own decisions.
In retrospect, maybe it was the opposition that pushed me to
text Tucker. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I didn’t need
anybody’s approval. Ghost hunting was interesting to me and I
wanted to learn more about it. And all I had to do was type, “Hey,
when can I come along for an investigation?” and send it his way.
Rather than texting me back, he called me up about half an
hour later when the store was empty and told me that his group had
a local investigation scheduled for Friday night. I was welcome to
tag along because he was in charge of it. Normally on a Friday night
I would have been working the late shift at the theater, but since
Thursday was a midnight release of a major superhero blockbuster,
my schedule had switched a little. I had the green light to go.
“Count me in.”
36

As Friday approached all too quickly, my nerves stretched
tighter and tighter inside me. I almost called Tucker and backed out
about thirty times over the course of three days, but every time I held
strong. Gunner was practically writhing on the floor with envy, and
when I bumped into my dad in the kitchen Thursday morning, he
was ten brands of enthusiastic. I didn’t mention it to Michelle, and
she didn’t ask.
Finally, it was 5:00 on Friday night, and I was in my room
hopping out of a towel and into a pair of jeans. What were you
supposed to wear to a paranormal investigation? I picked the jeans
because, well, I always wore jeans. But as far as shirts went, were
flashy colors a no-no? Did we need to look professional? Should I
dress warm in case the people had their air conditioning on killer
high? Or would they need to keep the AC turned off in case of
allegedly ghost-caused cold spots?
Gosh, I was spending more time trying to pick out an outfit
for a ghost hunt than I did for senior prom. Finally I decided on a
black polo, which seemed to be the most ambivalent item I could
find.
Once I was dressed, I headed out into the family room for a
better view of the street. Gunner was perched stiffly quite literally
on the very edge of the big arm chair in the corner, his eyes wide as
he scanned the pages of the book in his lap.
“You okay, Killer?” I asked. “You look like you just pooped
yourself.”
He took a few seconds more to finish reading whatever
sentence he was on before raising his eyes very calmly. Regardless
of how engrossed he had been, I hadn’t startled him in the least. The
kid was way too desensitized from all those horror movies. “I’m
fine. I’m reading the story behind the Amityville Horror.”
“Oh, sounds like wholesome family fun. Please refrain from
sharing until after I’ve marched into the ghost pit,” I requested,
planting myself on the couch across from him.
Gunner sighed longingly and closed his book, being sure to
use his index finger to hold his place. God forbid he should fold a
corner. “You are so lucky.”
37

“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” I attempted a laugh, but the sound
was so hollow it barely made it past my lips. My heart was pounding
out a hectic death metal beat inside my chest. Throughout my entire
body, my nerves were pulled so tight they felt like they could snap
at any second. My whole being was on complete alert, and I wasn’t
even in the people’s house yet.
“You should tie your hair back,” he suggested. “This way
strands won’t get in any pictures and make people think you caught
something you really didn’t.”
“Thank you, Jason Hawes.” I reached forward to the coffee
table and started digging through the piles of books, papers, and
various other goodies that had accumulated over the months. After
a moment, I found a little hair tie, and I pulled my hair away from
my face and into a ponytail.
Just as I dropped my hands back into my lap, headlights
beamed in the window as a car pulled into our driveway. “I must
go,” I said dramatically as I rose from my seat. “Charon is here to
ferry me to the underworld.”
Gunner’s eyebrows turned downward. “Don’t joke about
that, Chelsea. You might be scared and want to make it into
something silly, but it’s not. These are the spirits of real people
you’re dealing with, and you need to treat them with the same
respect you would someone alive.”
I blinked, searching for some kind of response to that. My
ten-year-old brother had just lectured me on being respectful and
serious. When had he turned into Mom?
Finally I just nodded and agreed. “Okay, Gun. I’m sorry. I’ll
be serious.”
“You don’t have to say sorry to me,” he said dismissively as
he opened up his book again. “It’s not my house you’re going to
mess up if you don’t be careful.”
Well, this had certainly put a new spin on things. I had been
so concerned with how I was going to react to the things that might
happen during the investigation, I hadn’t actually considered the
people living in the house or the spirits themselves. I was in such
38

deep thought that I actually missed the handle on Tucker’s little
silver Chevy Cobalt when I reached for it.
After successfully gripping the handle and opening the door,
I dropped into the fabric of the passenger seat and announced, “I’m
just getting all my klutzy out now so I don’t knock stuff over at the
investigation. Do not judge me.”
He already had a big grin on his face. Luckily, I seemed to
have dressed appropriately, because he was wearing just a plain
black t-shirt and jeans. “Too late. How are you doing? Nervous?”
“Does nervous mean hovering on the possibility of running
for the hills at any given moment? Then yes, I’m nervous.” I was
pleasantly surprised by the lack of air freshener inside his car. It
actually smelled a lot like the inside of The End Shelf, and when I
glanced over my shoulder and saw the array of books strewn across
the back seat, I recognized why.
“You’ll be fine,” he reassured me as he moved the shift stick
and started backing out of the driveway. “You worry too much.”
“I’m facing one of my biggest fears. I am maybe going to
come face to face with flying household objects, slamming doors,
freezing cold spots, and random fires starting spontaneously in
fireplaces. I think I’m worried just the right amount.”
Tucker was still smiling as he shook his head. “If you’re that
worried, I brought something that might calm you down. Reach
under your seat; there should be a little box.”
I did as I was instructed and my fingers closed on a small
cardboard box, like the type jewelry came in. “Do you need me to
put your earrings in for you?”
He laughed. “Just open it.”
When I pulled off the lid, I saw that the box was packed with
all different types of crystals and stones. My eyebrows lifted off as
I scanned all the various shapes, sizes, and colors. “These are all
yours?”
“Yes, ma’am. I figured you could use a little extra security
and protection. I brought the ones I thought might be useful to you
at this point in your ghost hunting career. You can pick whichever
ones call to you.”
39

“That was so thoughtful!” I was genuinely touched by his
gesture. But not too touched to refrain from corny jokes. I leaned
down and put my ear to the box. “I can’t hear any of them calling.”
“You know, it’s a long walk to Rhodesville from here,” he
threatened with mock severity.
I grinned and surveyed the variety of stones in the box. My
eyes kept coming back to a jagged-looking black piece about an inch
long.
When I picked it up, Tucker glanced over and nodded.
“That’s black tourmaline. It’s supposed to create a powerful
protection against negative energy.”
After another moment or two, I selected another, smaller
stone. This one was smooth and roundish, and it was kind of a
transparent gray-brown color. I was proud to recognize it from the
charts I’d been looking at online. “This is smoky quartz, isn’t it?”
“Yup. It’s funny that your nervous self picked that one out;
it’s supposed to be calming. It’s also good for shielding from
negative energy.”
I replaced the lid on the box of stones and slipped it back
under the seat. Then I held one of mine in each hand and sat back.
“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’d never send you in to any
investigation totally unprepared. When we get there we’re going to
ground ourselves, too.” He looked over my way and smiled again.
“I know you can do this, Chelsea. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t
think you were capable.”
I don’t know if it was his reassuring words, smile, or maybe
even the stones in my hand, but I could feel my nerves calming. My
body was still alert and excited, but the anxiety was definitely
lessening. It felt more like anticipation than terror.
He reached forward and pressed the power button on the
dashboard. Even though I wasn’t a huge classic rock fan, any
musical ignoramus could have recognized the warble of Robert
Plant that emanated from the speakers.
“Is Led Zeppelin always the pre-hunt music?” I asked.
“Only when I feel particularly awesome,” he replied.
40

The rest of the drive didn’t take very long; Rhodesville was
only half an hour west of my house. I had never been there before,
but it turned out to be a very upscale neighborhood. The houses were
big enough for Godzilla to live comfortably in. In fact, he probably
could have had a T-Rex and King Kong as roommates and they
would all have had plenty of space.
We pulled up in front of this massive white mansion with
about ten billion windows and two stone lions on either side of the
door, which was probably a mile away from the sidewalk across a
perfect green lawn. Its pristine condition made it look brand new,
which confused me until I remembered what Tucker had said about
ghosts not always haunting where they died. The house didn’t have
to be old to be haunted.
“Welcome to the home of the Masons,” Tucker introduced
me as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’m not going to give you any
information on the activity they’ve reported, this way any evidence
you find will be unbiased. Nobody else in the group knows anything
about the family’s claims, either. Just me.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
We parked in the street right behind a black Mazda 3, and
now people were starting to climb out of it. Before I had time to get
a good look at them, Tucker was opening his door and stepping out,
so I followed his lead.
“Hi, guys,” he greeted his teammates casually as he went
around to the trunk of his car. “This is Chelsea.”
“Hi, Chelsea,” one girl greeted me brightly. If I needed
anyone to disprove the image of pale, creepy ghost hunters who
sacrificed animals in their mom’s basements by candlelight, she was
it. She had bleach-blonde hair that was almost as long as Michelle’s,
and she was actually super tan. On top of that, she was totally
gorgeous, with these dainty little sharp features and a good amount
of makeup coating her eyes. She looked more like someone you’d
see in Playboy than someone who spent her time running around
talking to things she couldn’t see. “Tucker told us you’d be coming
to observe. I’m Susannah.”
41

Susannah. As in, Tucker’s friend who had the haunted dorm
room? I couldn’t help but grin and wonder if they’d ever hooked up.
He was so dorky and she was so ... well, hot.
Jotting on a mental post-it to interrogate him later, I reached
out to shake her hand. It was super soft and perfectly manicured.
“Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Ethan,” the next occupant of the black car piped up as
he approached. His hands were busy holding two bulky black
equipment cases, but he nodded at me. He had a mane of blond hair
that fell around his shoulders and a scruffy beard that made him look
an awful lot like a really short, much-less-jacked version of Thor.
The last two members of the group were an older man with
thinning silver hair named Brad and a tall woman in her thirties with
a sleek brown bob named Adrian.
Once the introductions were made, Tucker handed me an
equipment case. “Here you go, Chelsea. Anything in there, feel free
to use. They’re all my extras.”
“Thank you!” I figured that he would give me one or two
things to use, but I hadn’t expected an entire case full. I reached out
to take it from him and my arm dropped a few inches from the
sudden weight. “Gosh, what’s in here?”
“Two flashlights, a digital camera, a digital voice recorder,
two different EMF meters, and a lot of extra batteries.” He grinned
at me, and then he turned to face the rest of the group. The sun was
tucking itself into the horizon and the sky around us was painted
different shades of pink. I was standing on a sidewalk surrounded
by a group of very normal looking people. All of them seemed
friendly and enthusiastic, and the one in charge was quickly
becoming a good friend. It was definitely not at all what I had
expected.
“Alright, everyone. I think that both Mr. and Mrs. Mason
will be home tonight, but I made sure they know they need to sit
quietly and not follow us around while we’re working. We’ll go in
and set up base camp in the kitchen, and then we’ll do a walkthrough
of the house and figure out where everyone wants to start. Ethan and
Susannah will be one group, and Brad and Adrian will be the other.
42

Chelsea will stick with me.” As Tucker spoke, the traces of the
geeky bookworm I’d befriended were melting away. He was
suddenly confident and his presence was expanding around him.
“Before we go in, Brad, do you think you could lead us in
grounding ourselves? It’s Chelsea’s first time.”
He nodded and began, “Close your eyes.” I waited to see
that everyone else did before I complied. I couldn’t help feeling a
little silly, but I definitely wanted to be as safe as possible. I was
acutely aware of the stones in my pockets. “Feel your feet on the
ground. Feel the earth beneath them. Your spirit is safe in your body.
Your soul is sovereign. Bring your energy close to you. Now
envision your shield around you.”
I tried my best to follow his instructions. I wasn’t sure if I
was doing it right, but it wasn’t like I was making a paper airplane
and could show it to them and ask what I did wrong. I took a bunch
of deep breaths and tried repeating what he had said. My spirit is
safe. I am safe.
“Is everybody ready?” Tucker’s voice broke my
concentration and I opened my eyes, feeling strangely groggy,
almost like I’d been asleep. Damn, maybe there was something to
that meditation and grounding stuff.
After the chorus of yeses, we all started up the cement path
leading to the front door. Tucker stepped into place in the front, but
I fell to the back. I figured being the least professional and
experienced, I should probably bring up the rear and let the more
confident folks approach the homeowners first.
“Susannah, can we be Team Ramrod?” Ethan asked.
“Um, only always,” she replied.
So Tucker wasn’t the only one who could reference
awesome movies. Man, had I ever been wrong about the ghost
hunter stereotype I’d created in my head.
Mr. Mason answered the front door with his wife practically
clinging to him. They both looked to be in their late forties, and
although he was significantly steadier on his feet than she was, both
of their faces were drawn and pale. I recognized that expression. It
was the look I got whenever I realized my dad was watching a horror
43

movie and bolted from the room. That was fear. These grown people
were afraid of the ghost in their house.
On one hand, this was sort of reassuring, because it showed
me I wasn’t a total baby for being afraid. On the other hand, it
completely shattered the security I had been building in the car ride
and after the grounding out front. If whatever was in their house
could have scared them that much, then it had to be bad. Didn’t it?
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Mason. I’m Tucker Hamilton. I’m the
team leader for the group today.” Tucker was using the same voice
that he did to reassure me.
Mrs. Mason stayed behind her husband, but Mr. Mason
shook the hand that Tucker offered him. “Thank you so much for
coming. What can we do?”
“We’d like to set up base camp in the kitchen, if that’s all
right with you. Then we would like to do a walkthrough of your
house so we know where we’re going tonight.”
We filed into the kitchen and the team set down their cases
on the empty table. Then, the Masons led us through the rooms one
by one. The tour probably took about half an hour. They had four
bedrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, and thirty thousand bathrooms.
Well, that was a slight exaggeration, but only slight. The whole time,
Adrian had an EMF meter out and she stuck the device in every last
corner of every room. I actually remembered from the class that this
was just taking note of any spots in the house that had naturally high
readings. This way the investigators would know the difference
between a natural cause and a paranormal cause.
Once Tucker seemed satisfied that we would all know our
way around, he took us back to the kitchen. Everyone began opening
their cases and picking out the equipment that they wanted to use.
Brad and Ethan pulled out a massive camera on a tripod and started
discussing the best place to position it. Tucker took the Masons into
another room, leaving me feeling very stranded in a sea of technical
gadgets.
Susannah shifted her case so she could stand next to me as
she unloaded it. “You want to take both flashlights, in case one runs
44

out of batteries or stops working. We always want to be able to see.
And make sure they both work first.”
“Thank you,” I breathed gratefully, and I followed her
instructions. When I turned on the first flashlight, I raised my
eyebrows in surprise. “It’s red!”
She smiled, displaying perfect white teeth. Jeez, I’d like to
go to her dentist. “That’s because red light is the only color that our
eyes don’t have to adjust to.”
“Oh.” I stuck one flashlight in my pocket and put the other
one on the counter for the time being. “What else do you think is
good to take?”
“Since Tucker’s the team leader, he’s going to be sort of
wandering in between the rooms, keeping an eye on us and making
sure we don’t need any help. You guys won’t be investigating the
same way that we are, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to
snap pictures. And the voice recorder you can just leave on
constantly, even if you aren’t comfortable asking questions yet. Or
you can take an EMF meter, and any time you get a spike you know
to start taking pictures like crazy!”
I decided I might as well just grab everything. I stuffed a few
extra pairs of batteries in my back pocket, the EMF meter in one
front pocket and the recorder in the other. Once my jeans were
completely stuffed with equipment, I picked up the camera and
flashlight and squared my feet. “Okay, I’m ready.”
By that time, Tucker had returned to the kitchen, and among
the five of them they managed to figure out where to place their
motion detectors and video cameras. After everything was in place
and every member had the appropriate equipment, it was time to
split up. Brad and Adrian elected to start on the second floor, and
Susannah and Ethan took the first.
“Now, remember,” Tucker said as we waited for the first
team to get situated upstairs, “if you’re going to take a picture, say
‘flash’ beforehand so we know to brace ourselves. And if you set off
any other equipment or make a noise by accident, let everyone know
that it was you.”
“How do we let the people on the other floor know?” I asked.
45

Ethan popped a little black device out of a holder on his belt
and wiggled it in front of him. “Walkie-talkies!”
As if on cue, his crackled and Adrian’s voice came through
the speaker. “Okay, we’re all set. Lights out?”
Tucker reached out and rested a hand gently on my shoulder.
“You ready, Chelsea?”
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs so much they started to
hurt. The inside of the house didn’t look creepy at all; it looked
pretty and clean and normal. All the furniture was modern and
brightly colored. It didn’t have the “haunted mansion” feel at all.
And all of the people I was with were very nice and helpful. Plus,
Tucker would be with me the whole time.
Was I scared? Shitless.
Was I ready to prove I could do it anyway? Hell, yeah.
“I’m ready,” I announced with a nod.
Ethan radioed back to the upstairs team, “We’re all set, too.
Lights out.”
“Good luck, Chelsea,” Susannah offered encouragingly.
“We’ll be right here if you need anything.”
With that, Tucker started towards the doorway that led into
the hall. I hurried after him, so when he stopped with his hand on
the light switch, I had to put major brakes on so I didn’t barrel right
into him and jab him in the butt with a flashlight. He moved his hand
and the room fell into darkness behind us. Next, he moved into the
hallway, and flipped that switch. I followed him to each room,
leaving them black and creepy behind us.
Finally, we reached the front hallway where we had entered.
The chandelier above us was the last light on in the entire house. I
took this opportunity to click on my flashlight, but the red glow
seemed so weak compared to the ominous darkness.
“Lights out,” Tucker repeated, and with one violent kick of
my heart, he turned off the last switch.
46

Chapter Five
I may have been scared of ghosts, but I was never scared of
the dark. I was scared of what was lurking in the dark; reaching out
from the corners where we couldn’t see. I was the little girl who
would turn off her light and do a flying leap onto her bed so
whatever was lurking under it wouldn’t be able to grab her by the
ankles. I was that little girl yesterday.
So, naturally, when we were left in complete blackness,
sweat started to bead on my forehead and my heart started
hammering a hole in my chest. I waved my red light around, but all
I could see was a small circle wherever the beam went.
“Okay, where should we head first?” Tucker’s voice came
out of the darkness. He sounded the same as he did when we were
talking in front of Joe Bean’s — completely calm and normal. This
was nothing new to him. He did investigations in the dark all the
time and he was fine.
“Umm ...” I tried to breathe and calm myself down. It was
okay. Tucker was right there, Susannah and Ethan were in the
kitchen, Adrian and Brad were upstairs, and the Masons were in the
living room sitting on the couch. The living had to outnumber the
dead in the house.
“Hey. It’s okay. We only turn the lights out because it will
minimize distraction and heighten all our other senses. The ghosts
aren’t any more present or powerful now than they were with the
lights on. They’re off for our benefit.”
Okay. That was a little reassuring. A little.
After a few minutes, my eyes did adjust a little to the
darkness. I still couldn’t see much, but it wasn’t completely black
all around me at least. And I figured out the best way to position the
flashlight so I could see what was in front of me.
“I think we’ll go and sit with the Masons for a little bit. Make
sure they’re okay,” he decided for me.
I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me, so I managed
to say, “Okay.” I concentrated on breathing steadily and focusing on
47

grounding myself like we had outside. Was it my imagination, or
did the rocks in my pockets feel sort of warm?
Tucker turned on his own flashlight, and I kept my beam
trained on him so I could follow him through the house. When we
got to the living room, he reminded me to watch my step, because it
was sunken below the rest of the floor. “That’s probably the most
dangerous thing you’re going to come in contact with tonight,” he
said.
“How is it going?” Mrs. Mason asked as we walked in,
speaking up for the first time.
“It’s going fine,” he told her. “We’re just getting started.
We’re going to go for an hour and then switch places. Are you doing
okay?”
“We’re a little nervous,” Mr. Mason admitted. “We never
leave all the lights off any more.”
That sounded like me. Whenever I was home alone, I always
made sure I left some lights on. Sometimes all of them. It was just
more comforting to be able to see.
“Don’t be,” Tucker reassured them. “You’re going to be
fine. Our team member Brad is very sensitive, so any spirits that are
here will probably be attracted to him. It’s like if there’s a room full
of people and most of them speak Spanish but two of them speak
English. The two who speak the same language are going to
gravitate to each other. Why bother trying to talk to someone who
can’t understand you? It’s the same with spirits. If someone is more
aware of them, they’ll probably head in that direction.”
“Is he, like, a psychic?” Mrs. Mason asked.
“Not quite. He can’t predict the future or anything. But he
can feel their presence. Sometimes he can see them. Everyone has
the ability, but he’s a lot more in touch with his.”
I actually found myself enjoying this. Since the Masons were
so nervous, Tucker was trying to ease their anxiety, but he was
easing mine at the same time.
Unfortunately, as team leader, he had a job to do, so we
couldn’t stay there forever. Once he was sure that the couple would
48

e okay, he led the way out of the room and back into the kitchen,
where Ethan was perched on a stool.
I was about to ask where Susannah was, since I knew they
had a rule of never leaving an investigator alone, but then her voice
came from one corner. “We just want to ask you some questions.
We want to learn a little about who you are. Is that okay?”
Tucker didn’t say a word, so I figured he was just observing.
I tried not to shine my flashlight in Ethan’s eyes as I scanned the
kitchen. Had anything changed? Had a ghost moved a chair or a
candle or something? Nope, everything looked the same. Gunner
had told me that it didn’t happen all at once. He said the TV shows
were very misleading in that hardly any cases could get that much
information in one night. An investigation was almost never finished
with just one visit. Most of them yielded little, if any, information.
“Are you a man or a woman?” Susannah asked. Then, after
about a thirty second pause, “What’s your name?”
After a little while of listening to her asking a lot of simple
questions, Tucker started to move again. This time, we made our
way upstairs, which wasn’t as challenging as I expected it to be. We
found Adrian and Brad in the master bedroom. Adrian was sitting
on the floor with her back against the front of the massive bed, and
Brad was standing in a corner with some equipment in his hands.
“This thing just spiked to a ‘9.’ Will you take a picture?” His partner
complied, but she must have been using an infrared camera, because
no flash went off.
“Is there someone here with us?” Adrian asked. I caught a
voice recorder resting on the ground in front of her in the beam of
my flashlight.
“Are you over by me?” Brad pressed.
We waited in silence, but no response came. They asked a
lot more questions, but Brad’s EMF reading didn’t rise again.
Eventually, Tucker announced, “Alright, the first hour’s up.
I’ll radio the two downstairs and we’ll switch up rooms. You guys
done up here?”
Adrian nodded. “We went through most of the bedrooms
before we came in here and didn’t feel anything. We’ll see if
49

Susannah and Ethan spend a lot of time in here, too.” She turned on
her flashlight and started scratching something on a notepad I hadn’t
noticed at her side.
“We try to log everything,” Tucker explained. “From noises
or sights to just feelings. Even if you randomly feel hungry, that
might not mean anything to you, but if we tell the Masons, they
might always get hungry in this same spot. And that might be
something worth noticing.”
“I see,” I murmured.
After a few moments, Adrian and Brad had packed up their
things, and they traded places with Susannah and Ethan.
Surprisingly, the first place the pair decided to come was the master
bedroom. Had there been a ghost there? I hadn’t noticed anything
unusual about the room at all. I might have just been in the same
room as a spirit and nothing bad had happened at all. Interesting.
Tucker led me out of the room again and into a different
bedroom. It looked like it belonged to a child; there were toys in a
corner and the bed was a twin covered in Toy Story sheets. He sat
down on it lightly and patted the spot next to him. “You feel like
trying to have a little conversation with whoever’s here?”
I took the seat at his side and pulled my digital voice recorder
out of my pocket. “They keep asking questions but getting nothing.”
“Not necessarily. They could be getting EVPs. I know
you’ve heard of that. It stands for Electronic Voice Phenomena. All
it means is a sound we don’t hear at the time, but when we play it
back on the recording, it’s there. That’s really what we’re trying for
— something caught on the recording.”
“What would I do without you?” I laughed nervously.
“Well, you probably wouldn’t be here in the first place. Do
you realize you’ve been in the dark in a haunted house for an hour
now and you’re completely fine?”
This was relatively true. While I was not completely fine —
there was something of a hurricane going on inside me, specifically
in the fearful section of my brain — I had not run screaming as I
half-expected to. I had stuck it out, and now that he pointed it out, I
50

was definitely less frightened than I had been when we first turned
off the lights.
“Look at me. I’m a professional already. Now, how do I use
this thing?” The voice recorder had so many buttons, I worried I
might touch one and it would self-destruct.
He leaned over and pressed the appropriate button, and a
little red light came on in the corner of the machine. “This is Tucker
and Chelsea in the Toy Story bedroom at 10:34,” he announced,
presumably for logging purposes and not because he thought I might
have forgotten who we were.
“If there’s anyone in here with us … hello,” he continued.
“I’m Tucker. This is Chelsea. We would love to talk with you.”
The silence pounded in my ears as the seconds dragged by.
My heart was throbbing so aggressively, I was amazed that he
couldn’t hear it.
When nothing came, Tucker tried again. “Can you tell me
what year it is?”
Still nothing. How did they do this all the time and not
explode from the suspense?
I felt him turn to face me. “Do you want to ask them
anything?”
“What do I ask?” I knew I would feel silly talking to nothing,
but it was part of the gig. Everyone else was doing it, and they were
all professional and didn’t look funny at all.
“Anything you want. Talk to them like you’re talking to a
person you’ve just met. It’s best to ask questions that would have
simple, short answers. We think it takes a lot of energy for them to
respond so we can hear them, even just on the recorder. And try to
stay away from questions that could be loosely interpreted. Like the
whole ‘Show me a sign of your presence’ deal. They could take that
as a green light to throw Woody over there at you. You need to be
specific.”
“Oh. Good. How comforting. If I ask the wrong thing, I
could get hit with a flying cowboy.”
“It might not be a cowboy! It could be the lamp, if they’re
particularly strong.”
51

What? I whipped my flashlight up to his face in horror, but
he was smiling. Oh. He was joking. Lighten up, Chelsea.
Okay, focus. What to ask the mysterious spirits? I could copy
something I’d heard the other investigators asking. That would be
safe. But if I was the ghost and had people repeating questions, I’d
probably get bored or annoyed after a while. Better to ask it
something original.
Finally, I blurted, “What’s your favorite color?” Oh, yes.
Very original. 100 percent pure Chelsea.
I glanced at Tucker, expecting him to laugh at me, but he
was just looking down at the EMF meter he had pulled out of his
pocket. After a moment, he stood up and walked over to the corner,
holding the meter in front of him.
Hmm. Apparently that question was appropriate. I tried to
think of what else I would ask someone when getting to know them.
What had Tucker and I talked about? Oh, yeah! “Do you like
music?” I waited a few seconds, as the others had, and added,
“What’s your favorite song?”
“Chelsea! Take a picture of me,” my partner spoke up. “I just
got a massive spike over here.”
I fumbled for my camera. “Get ready for a flash!” I snapped
five pictures as quickly as the little machine would take them. Each
time, the bright white light lit up the entire room and blinded us.
After the last time, I found myself blinking as my eyes tried to adjust
again to the darkness.
He thanked me and continued taking readings along the wall.
After a while, I ran dry of questions, and Tucker had run the
EMF meter through every inch of air in the room. He turned towards
me. “We would like to thank anyone who shared anything with us
tonight.” Then he nodded at the recorder. “You can turn it off if you
want and we can go check on the others.”
I pressed the same button he had and the red light
disappeared. I replaced the tiny machine in my pocket and stood up
to follow him out the door.
After a brief walkie-talkie announcement, we all migrated
back downstairs to the kitchen.
52

“How is everybody doing?” Tucker asked. Susannah and
Ethan had moved to a different bedroom, and both of them looked
pretty bored when we walked in. “Can we switch up places? We’re
not getting anything,” Susannah requested.
“The upstairs was pretty dead,” Ethan said.
“We’re getting a few things down here,” Adrian spoke up.
“But we’d like to go back upstairs again before we leave if that’s
okay.”
“That’s fine. It’s 11:30, and we told them we might be here
as late as 1,” Tucker agreed.
Once the groups dispersed again, we stopped in to check on
the Masons, who were both fast asleep on the couch. All that fear
must have really worn them out. My body was definitely starting to
feel it, too. Even though on a normal Friday night I’d still be out
with Michelle at this time, I was getting pretty damn tired.
When we got back into the hallway, Tucker asked me again,
“Where do you want to go?”
This time, I was comfortable enough that I could think
clearly. “Umm ... what about the kids’ playroom? We haven’t really
stopped in there much.”
He raised his arm in the direction of that room. “Lead the
way.”
I wasn’t sure why I wanted to head to the playroom. Really,
there were just more toys there to get thrown at me if I asked the
wrong question. But I remembered it distinctly from the
walkthrough earlier, and it was the first room that popped into my
head.
The family either was very impeccable when it came to
cleaning, or they’d gone out of their way to make sure the house
looked spiffy for the investigation. Either way, I was glad, because
there were literally endless amounts of toys in the bins that lined the
room. They were little accidental booby traps waiting to happen.
This particular room was different from the others because
there was an enormous bay window framing the front yard. Even
though there was no streetlamp directly in front of the Masons’
house, there were several dotting the development and they let in
53

enough light for me to be able to see without my flashlight. I turned
it off for the first time and placed it beside me as I settled down with
my back against the wall.
Tucker seated himself on one of the toy bins that
conveniently had a red plastic lid placed over its contents. He leaned
forward a little, resting his arms on his knees and clasping his hands.
He was waiting for me to lead the way.
For a moment, I had to marvel at the absolute incredibleness
of the whole situation. Just a few weeks ago, I would have darted
out of the room at the mere mention of the paranormal. Then, all of
a sudden, completely by chance, I took a class and met a guy. That
night something had shifted, and since then, the newborn interest
had been snowballing and growing alarmingly fast. Tonight, I was
doing the unthinkable. I put myself smack-dab in the middle of an
investigation. Now I was sitting in the dark without a flashlight and
the team leader was looking to me to decide how we were going to
handle investigating the room. It was like someone had stuck me in
a toaster. In went the old, dull, plain Chelsea, and out popped a new,
adventurous, and delightfully crispy Chelsea!
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the borrowed voice
recorder. Once I turned it on, I placed it carefully on the floor beside
my flashlight. Then I pulled my knees up to my chest for some
security and said, “Hi. I’m Chelsea, and this is Tucker. You’ve
probably seen us in some part of the house by now, but in case you
haven’t, we’re here just to talk to anyone who’s hanging around.”
Tucker added, “We would really appreciate it if you could
communicate with us. The little device by Chelsea is a recorder, and
if you talk into it, we’ll be able to hear you when we play it back
later.”
Suddenly, the light bulb blinked on over my head. The
metaphorical one, not the actual one in the room. That would have
been something!
“Am I allowed to take out some toys?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied with a nod. He didn’t ask why, and I
wasn’t sure if it was because he knew what I was going to do with
them, or if he just trusted me.
54

I reached into the nearest open bin and pulled out a little
stuffed dog, a Barbie, and a truck. Carefully I lined them up in front
of me in a row. I figured that since the last talking session upstairs
had been uneventful — or at least we had to assume so for now — I
would try to give the spirits something else to work with. If they
didn’t feel like using all their energy to shout at us loud enough for
us to hear from their ethereal plane, then maybe they could
communicate another way.
“I put out some toys here,” I announced, as if the ghost had
never seen a toy before. Maybe they were dead long before Barbie
was invented! If that was the case, they were probably wondering
why a blonde, big-boobed woman was dressed as a doctor.
Focus! “If there’s anyone here for us, you can let us know
by moving one of them. You can roll the truck or push over the doll.
Whatever you want to do. But if you can move one, we’ll know that
we’re not alone.” Goosebumps spread up my arms like I had dunked
them in ice. Good word choice, genius.
Tucker pulled his digital camera out and I saw the red light
blink on that meant he was recording. He held it down below his
face so I could try to meet his eyes, but he was watching the screen
instead of me. He hadn’t been breathing down my neck staring at
me the whole time, making sure I didn’t have a heart attack or break
the equipment. He might have been watching out for me, but he
really believed that I could do this myself.
My own confidence boosted by his, I let my feet slide away
from my butt so my legs were straight out in front of me, resting
beside the toys. “You can touch them any time you want. If you still
want to talk to us, feel free. Can you tell me your name?”
Silence descended upon us again as my partner sat still as a
gargoyle across from me and we waited for some kind of response.
Somehow, it wasn’t as frightening as it had been initially. It was
definitely intimidating, but it wasn’t overwhelming. I didn’t want to
run away.
I glanced up from the toys and caught Tucker looking at me
again. The faint light from outside illuminated half his face, but it
was easy to see the little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
55

My face immediately heated up like my body had turned on
a burner beneath it. I wasn’t sure why it decided to flush, but I was
glad for the darkness so he wouldn’t see that my focus had shifted
for a moment. I looked quickly back down at the row of toys.
Just in time to see Barbie topple over.
All my joints locked up. Except my jaw; that dropped open.
I didn’t know what to do. My brain wasn’t working right. Any
logical action to take had completely vanished into the furthest
corner of my brain. My heart had kicked right into overdrive and I
could actually feel the extra blood surging through my body. Every
nerve was telling me to get up and bolt, but I couldn’t move.
Luckily, when I saw the expression on Tucker’s face, I didn’t
feel so silly. He might have been a professional investigator, but his
eyes were wide with excitement and the little smile had transformed
into this massive grin that looked wide enough to hurt. “Did you just
knock over the doll?” he asked whoever was there with us.
“It wasn’t me,” I managed to choke out. Slowly, my body
functions were coming back to me, and I was able to pull my knees
up to my chest again. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that
I could barely hear what he was saying.
“It wasn’t me, either,” he agreed. “Something else pushed
that Barbie over. And I’ve got it recorded!” He tapped his camera
with one finger, still grinning like a little kid whose parents had just
brought home a puppy.
I started to glance around the room. I wasn’t sure what I
expected to see, but I didn’t find it. The whole place was just as
empty as it had been before the doll was pushed over, except that
now we knew that we weren’t the only two in there. Someone had
touched the toy with enough force to knock her off her butt.
Tucker’s enthusiasm carried us the remainder of the time. I
didn’t think my tongue would have been able to form words if I
tried. But he was asking questions like a journalist hunting down a
story. “Thank you so much for moving it. Can you talk to us now?
Can you move the train next? Were you in any other rooms with us?
How long have you been here?”
56

Eventually, Brad’s voice crackled from the walkie-talkie,
asking us if we were ready to pack it up. Since nothing else had
happened since the fall of Barbie, Tucker radioed back that we were
done. He turned off his camera and slid it into his pocket as he stood
up.
I grabbed the recorder in one hand and my flashlight in the
other and shakily got to my feet. My body felt strange after all the
adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins for the last
twenty minutes. I was tired, but also still tingly and fighting hard to
stay alert. Although my legs were wobbly, I managed to follow
along behind Tucker — very closely behind him — out of the room
and down the hall to the kitchen.
This time, he turned on the lights as we went, chasing away
the darkness so it retreated to the closets and behind the furniture.
My heart began to calm down now that I had regained one of my
most important senses, and by the time we got to the kitchen, my
legs felt much more stable.
“How did it go?” Ethan asked as we filed in. The other group
was already there, packing their equipment back into the black
cases.
“It went well, thanks,” Tucker responded evenly. I was
surprised for a moment he didn’t blurt out what had just happened,
but then I realized he was acting normal for the sake of the residents.
They were already scared and didn’t need to hear snippets of what
had happened and get more freaked out.
I followed their lead and started unloading my pockets back
into their places in the case. Each one had a little spot to fit snugly
in the foam, and it was like that game with matching the shapes with
the holes to put them all away where they belonged. Finally, though,
I managed to get it all sorted out, and I closed the lid and it clicked
into place.
Before we left, Tucker went to speak to the Masons again,
leaving me in the kitchen with the rest of the group. “So, what did
you think of your first investigation?” asked Susannah as she leaned
against the table.
57

“It was, um ...” I fumbled for the words, but they stuck to my
tongue.
She let out a tinkly laugh. “That was how I felt, too. You get
acclimated to them surprisingly fast, but if something happens, it
will almost always surprise you. That’s part of the fun, though.” She
winked her heavily-makeupped lashes at me.
After a moment, Tucker returned to the kitchen. “Let’s move
out.”
I fell into step behind everyone once more, and we filed out
of the kitchen and to the front door. As we passed by the Masons,
they smiled gratefully at us. I think Mrs. Mason even had tears in
her eyes as she waved. The both of them looked right at me as I
reached out to grab the door so I could close it behind me, and I felt
the warm fuzzies climbing up inside me. They were genuinely
appreciative that we had just spent a few hours trying to find out
some information to reassure them. And it felt really nice.
“Take care,” I said with what I hoped was a comforting smile
before I pulled the heavy door closed.
We barely made it to the cars before the experiences came
pouring out.
“Chelsea and I saw a toy move!” Tucker exclaimed, all
traces of professionalism having buckled to make way for the
excited little kid I saw earlier.
“Something pulled my hair!” Adrian gushed.
“I kept getting the name Tyler,” Brad announced. “I think
that there was more than one spirit in there, though. I got an image
of a young boy and an older man. I don’t know which one’s name I
was picking up on.”
“Damn, looks like we got the short end this time around,”
Ethan said with a laugh as he popped the trunk so they could load
their cases in.
Susannah piped up, “Who’s in for the diner so we can talk
about how crazy we are in public instead of in front of these poor
people’s house?”
While everyone else chorused that they were definitely in,
Tucker turned my way. I really wasn’t up for going out and hanging
58

out after what had just happened. I wanted time to process the whole
experience, and I couldn’t get that with them all fervently discussing
it like that.
Somehow he must have read it on my face, because he
looked back at the rest of the group and said, “Sorry, guys. Chelsea
and I have plans. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?”
Although they looked disappointed, they all nodded
understandingly. Whether they believed that we had plans or just
knew that the first investigation could be a lot to take in, they were
okay to let us go without argument.
“It was so nice meeting you, Chelsea,” Susannah told me as
she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a warm
hug. I wasn’t expecting the gesture, so the best I could do was
awkwardly pat her back. “I hope you’ll come back again. We would
love to have you on board.”
Once the rest of them had all said goodbye and piled into
Ethan’s car, I opened the passenger door — on the first try this time
— to the little Chevy. I dropped into the passenger seat beside
Tucker, who was already turning the key. He looked over at me and
smiled once again. “So, Miss Keller. Let’s talk.”
59

Chapter Six
“First of all, let me just say this: Holy Mother of God.”
Tucker’s laugh filled the car as he pulled away from the
sidewalk. “Yeah. I kinda feel the same way. It’s not often something
that substantial happens.”
“You mean Barbies aren’t always victims of paranormal
activity?” I quipped. Despite the fear that had nearly exploded out
of my chest inside, I found a smile creeping onto my face. I had
really expected to get up and run the hell out of there at the first sign
of a ghost. Instead, I’d been too scared to move. I considered that a
good sign. At least my body reacted the correct way. I imagined that
if I jumped up and dashed away screaming at the top of my lungs,
Susannah would not have invited me to join them again. Ever.
But I didn’t! I managed to stay put. I made it through an
actual paranormal investigation, where there was almost definitely
an actual ghost present. I wasn’t sure how, but that wasn’t important.
The important part was that I did it! I repeated this expression of my
enthusiasm out loud to Tucker.
“Let me be the first to say I told you so,” he replied with a
playful smirk.
“Oh, come on. You didn’t know that I could do it. There had
to be some part of you that was like, ‘I hope she doesn’t go
completely ape shit in the middle of this,’” I countered.
He shook his head, still smiling. “Nope. I knew. There was
not a doubt in my mind.”
I decided not to argue because it was nice that he had so
much confidence in me. My dad and brother had definitely given up
on me very early on when they had tried to get me involved in
spooky things, although Gunner had some new found faith in me
now. God, he was going to poop himself when he heard what had
happened.
“Seriously, though, Chelsea, you did great. I’m really
impressed. You asked all the right questions and were very
professional.”
60

Well, now I felt even nicer. “Tucker, this is my ego right
now.” I spread my hands in front of me wider and wider to display
the growth of my self-assurance. “Be careful. Soon I’m not gonna
be able to fit in the car with you. I’ll have to ride on the roof.”
Another laugh burst from his mouth and he shook his head.
“That’s okay. You’re allowed to enjoy this.”
Did I enjoy it? I’d been straight up terrified before I left my
house. Tucker’s presence had calmed me down a little and so had
the grounding session we’d all had before we went in. When the
lights went out, it was all I could do not to scream like Freddy
Krueger had popped out of the wall above my head. But if I stopped
focusing so much on how I’d been working to keep the fear in check,
I realized there had been something else that had carried me through:
excitement. I’d been enthusiastic about facing this head on and
maybe learning something new along the way. And somewhere deep
down, there was actually a little pride bubbling up.
“Yeah, I had a good time.” Part of me couldn’t believe the
words had just left my lips, but the other part of me was going “about
damn time!” Hello, alternate personality in which I am somehow
this adventurous badass. Maybe I should start slamming on eyeliner
and cutting my hair like Joan Jett so the world will know what a
tough bee-otch I suddenly am.
“Next, we just have to review the audio and visual and see if
we picked up any evidence along the way,” he said.
I imagined myself sitting with the recorder on my bed and
hearing a ghostly voice leaking through the headphones. My
imaginary self was, needless to say, freaked out. “You want me to
look at what was on the recorder and camera you lent me?”
Tucker glanced my way. The stoplight colored his pale skin
a faint red. “Do you want to?”
I dove deep into my mind and to search for an honest answer
to that question. Did I want to sit alone in my house, which was
formerly a place of safety, and listen to some voices from beyond
the grave? My knee-jerk reaction was hell no, screw that! But there
was that other part of me, the one with the heavy eyeliner and 80s
61

ocker hair that was wondering if it wouldn’t be kinda cool to find
an EVP.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll try it,” I decided.
Even though he was facing the road again, it wasn’t hard to
see his face completely brighten. “Good for you! You’ll be fine.”
As I was re-emerging from the depths of my mind, I caught
sight of the mental Post-it I’d stuck to the inside of my skull earlier.
“Oh! So, Susannah. You didn’t tell me she was a total hottie.”
At least one eyebrow — the one I could see — rose after that
comment. “What does that have to do with ghost hunting?”
“She’s one of the hunters!” I giggled. “Come on. I know you
two have been friends since at least college. Did you ever go out?”
Tucker sighed and shook his head. “No, we didn’t. I mean,
don’t get me wrong, there was a time when I wanted to. But we’ve
just been friends too long.”
“Ah, so she stuck you in the friend zone and you had to deal
with it,” I translated. He might have been the expert on ghosts, but I
knew a thing or two about the way women worked. This was
probably due to the fact that I had a vagina, but also partially due to
my immense wisdom and knowledge of all things sexual. Not.
He laughed. “Pretty much. But it’s good that she did. She’s
not really my type.”
“You mean tall gorgeous blondes with ten feet of legs aren’t
your type? Are you more into the short, squat, hairy women?”
“Yes. My last girlfriend was actually a troll that lived under
a bridge. Things didn’t work out because she kept trying to eat my
pet goat.”
I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. “Whatever. So, no
girlfriend now, huh?”
“You might find this surprising, but ‘weirdo’ isn’t usually at
the top of a girl’s list of qualities she wants in a man.”
Instantly guilt kicked me in the chest. “Oh, come on! I was
young and naïve and knew nothing of the ghost hunting world! How
was I supposed to know that you’re all actually pretty awesome?”
62

Tucker’s low chuckle filled the car. “I’m just playing,
Chelsea. But thank you for the compliment. You’re pretty awesome
yourself.”
At this very opportune break in the conversation, he pulled
into my driveway. I was surprised that we were home already; it
seemed as though hardly any time at all had passed since we left the
Masons. There was still a light on in the front window, which meant
that Gunner had probably managed to stay up. My dad’s truck
wasn’t in the driveway yet, so I assumed he was still working.
Tucker pulled the car into park, popped the trunk, and
opened his door to get out. I followed his lead and stepped out into
the humid night air, and a moment later he came around to my side
with the equipment case he’d lent me. He handed it over and I
remembered the stones in my pockets.
As I reached in to grab them, he seemed to read my mind.
“Keep them. I have plenty and I can always get more.”
My body felt pleasantly warm, and I wasn’t sure if the rocks
were giving me some mystical power or if I was just happy he was
giving me a present to commemorate the night. “Thank you. I mean
for everything. Thanks for all your patience with and confidence in
me. I had a really good time tonight, if you can believe it.”
“I believe it.” He reached out with one arm for the awkward
new friend parting hug again, but I wasn’t having it. I set the case
down beside me and wrapped my arms around his skinny chest.
Even though he was tall, he felt so small in my hands. But his body
was warm and when he gently curled his arms around my back, we
fit as if we’d been doing this for a long time.
After a moment, he let me go and I backed up a step so I
could pick up the equipment case again. “So, I’ll call you when I
hear Zuul asking me if I’m the Keymaster through the recorder,” I
said with a grin.
“If you hear that, you’re getting a one-way ticket to evening
television and leaving the rest of us so far behind you won’t even
hear us calling.” His smile was as big as mine felt. “Remember to
take a shower and wash off any energy you might have picked up in
the Masons’ house. Goodnight, Chelsea.”
63

“You mean I can’t just go flop down on my bed and pass
out? Well, at least I don’t have the morning shift tomorrow.”
Surprisingly, I wasn’t actually that tired, even though it was after 1
am. My body must have still been on a high from all the leftover
adrenaline.
When I stepped into the family room, Gunner was dead to
the world in his armchair with his book still open on his lap. Trouble
was lying on the floor by his side, and when I came in he raised his
head curiously. I held up my hand, the signal for “stay,” so he
wouldn’t wake up my brother by bolting up. He did as he was told
and laid his head back down on his paws.
I tiptoed as quietly as I could down the hall to my bedroom.
Once safely between the Hollywood Undead and Asking Alexandria
posters on either side of the door, I fell to my knees. A little
dramatic, yes, but now that I was in a place where I could really
relax and unwind, the entire night came rushing back to me. I
replayed it all in my head, every one of the intense emotions
scratching at my heart as it rose up inside me with each scene.
I had survived my first ghost hunt. And yes, I said first,
because I knew it wasn’t going to be my last.
On Sunday morning, as I was scooping popcorn into a red
and white striped bag, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I handed
the mom her giant movie snack, and she reached around the baby
strapped to her chest to give me the money. After they had gone, I
pulled out my phone, expecting to see a text from Michelle, to which
I would respond with the timeless question of why people insisted
on bringing babies to the movies. But instead of my best friend, I
saw a missed call and a voicemail from Tucker.
“Jake! I’m going on my break,” I announced to my
coworker. He nodded sleepily, giving me the green light to escape
and see what was up.
Once I was in the breakroom, I played the voicemail. “Hey,
Chelsea, you have got to hear this. I was listening to the audio we
recorded in the bedroom and we’ve got a Class A EVP! Sorry. I’ll
64

explain what that means later. But, seriously, call me back. You need
to hear this.”
My heart gave my chest a swift kick as I pressed the dial
button on his name. What had he found? What did the spirit in the
Masons’ house tell us?
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed as soon as he picked up. “You
have to hear this. What are you doing right now?”
“Well, hi, Tucker! I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I quipped.
“I’m at work until five.”
“Okay. Me, too. I want to get it on my computer at home
because I’ve got a sound program I can enhance it with. Do you want
to come by and listen to it when you get off?”
“Only if there will be pizza,” I bargained.
“Consider it done,” he agreed.
“You’re the best! Just text me your address and I’ll find my
way there.”
Around 5:30 I pulled up in front of Tucker’s apartment,
which really was only three streets away from The End Shelf. It was
situated on top of a bakery that had all its lights turned off so I
couldn’t read the neon sign in the window. I sent him a text to let
him know that I was there and had no clue how to get up to his place.
A few moments later I heard footsteps clunking on wooden steps.
He practically bounded around the side of the building. The
grin on his face was total Cheshire cat: tons of teeth and so happy it
was almost creepy. “Hi! Come on up, this way!” He turned around
and I had to hurry to keep up as he led the way to a flight of stairs
leading to the second floor.
Tucker held the door open for me to step into his tiny
kitchen. It was sort of old-fashioned looking, with brown tiles and
yellow wallpaper that looked like it had lasted since it was put up in
the 70s. I didn’t get a very good look at the layout, though, because
he disappeared through a doorway to the right; I scooted through
after him.
The room we emerged into was also small, but he had
managed to fit a desk with a computer on it in one corner, an L-
65

shaped black couch in another, and a TV against the wall across
from it. On either side of the TV were two stands absolutely packed
with DVDs and even a few video games on the bottom shelves.
He zoomed right over to the desk and pointed at the wooden
chair. “Sit.” I complied and waited as he bent over and fumbled with
the mouse to bring up whatever he wanted me to hear.
After a few seconds, he turned to me. His face was about a
hand’s length away from mine, and I could see the purple circles
etched into the pale skin beneath his eyes. How late had he been up
reviewing evidence? “Are you ready for this?”
I took a deep breath to try and steady my wildly hammering
heart. “Hit me.”
One finger clicked the mouse button and immediately sound
burst from the speakers. It took a moment for me to register at what
point in the investigation we were, but then I heard myself say —
extremely loudly — “Do you like music?” There was what felt like
an hour-long pause, and then I asked, “What’s your favorite song?”
After this rose a faint but definite whistle. It sang three notes
and then left a deafening silence in its wake.
I whipped around to face Tucker again. “What. The. Hell.”
“Someone answered you, Ms. Keller,” he replied. “Maybe it
was trying to tell you its favorite song.”
“But we didn’t hear that!” I exclaimed. My heart was
throbbing so fast it was about to have liftoff right up my throat and
out my mouth.
“That’s what an EVP is, remember? Our ears couldn’t pick
it up, but the microphone on the recorder did.” There was the
Cheshire cat smile again.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “Can you play it again?”
He played the clip at least ten more times, and we sat there
side by side, letting it sink in that we now had not one, but two pieces
of evidence on the recording. Each time we heard the soft whistle, I
tried to identify what song it actually was from, but that combination
of notes could have been from anywhere. It wasn’t really that
important; the fact was that someone had responded to my question.
Someone who wasn’t Tucker, the only other living soul in the room.
66

After a while, I sat back in the chair, raising my hand to my
forehead. It felt damp beneath my palm and I realized I was
sweating. “My God. I don’t even know how to react.”
“Well, I think an appropriate reaction would be shock.
Maybe a little awe. Followed by some pride. You communicated
with a ghost twice on your first investigation,” Tucker said. Now
that he had put a word to the emotion, I could actually hear that his
own words were strung with pride.
“Can we email this to Gunner?” I requested. I was positive
that my brother would have a reaction very much like Tucker’s. It
would probably make his week to hear some real-life, not-on-TV
evidence of a spirit. And maybe his trained ears would be able to
make out what song that was.
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll send it to everyone in the group
so they can hear it too. This is amazing. I haven’t gotten something
like this in months.” His fingers tapped furiously on the keys as he
wrote a little message to my brother, and then to our teammates from
Friday night.
It was strange that when we got an answer to my question, it
just raised more inquiries. There had been something in the bedroom
with us; that much we now knew. But who was it? Was it the same
spirit that had knocked over the Barbie? Why had they chosen to
answer that question instead of any others? Were they with us the
entire time? Why us, rather than Susannah and Ethan or Adrian and
Brad?
When Tucker was done with the emails, he turned to me
again and let out a laugh. “I can see your head going absolutely nuts.
Relax, Chelsea. We’re going to submit all our evidence to the
Masons and if they want more information we will be able to go
back in. Then you can talk to your friend some more.”
Did I want to? Was I okay with going into a house that I had
some solid evidence was actually haunted? The old Chelsea was
hanging back timidly and uncertain. But new, kickass Chelsea was
already strapping up her combat boots and halfway out the door.
For a moment, a hush fell over us. Tucker’s face was still
very close to mine. His fair skin was flushed with enthusiasm, and I
67

could smell whatever Old-Spicey aftershave he had patted on in the
morning. Suddenly, I realized that this dorky ghost hunter was
actually very cute. How had I not seen it before? His dark eyes were
full of passion for his trade. His smile was genuine and sweet. My
heart went into another spasm, but this one wasn’t from fear.
Then the moment broke as he stood up abruptly. “Now that
you’ve heard that, I believe I promised you some pizza.”
Feeling considerably flustered and wanting to buy some time
to recuperate, I nodded. “Yes, yes you did.” My chest deflated in
relief as he announced he would be right back and disappeared into
the kitchen again.
What was that all about? I recognized this feeling. It was a
warm and inviting sensation, something that was safe but dangerous
at the same time. I had felt it when Bobby Price asked me to prom
senior year. I had felt it when my first boyfriend, Kevin Andrews,
had grabbed my hand on our first date. I had felt it in many moments
before a kiss. Not to mention before other physical adventures after
that.
But why was I feeling it now? What did it have to do with
Tucker? He wasn’t someone who had turned my head like Bobby
Price or Kevin Andrews, and now I finally had him alone for the
first time. He was a new friend I had made based on a mutual interest
that was just budding on my end. And he was a lot older than me,
which made him more of a teacher or a leader than a boy I could be
interested in.
And yet, when he came back into the room, I couldn’t help
but look him up and down again as if seeing him for the first time.
He was wearing khaki cargo shorts that exposed skinny legs and a
white t-shirt with grapes that had angry faces on them. He wasn’t
any different than usual; he looked like his usual slightly geeky, pale
bookworm self. But somehow he looked amazing.
Knock it off, Chelsea. You’re just a kid compared to him.
He’s only being nice and teaching you how to ghost hunt. You can
be friends, and that’s it. Don’t start complicating it with your girly
garbage.
68

I swallowed that pleasant, warm feeling and smiled at him
as if I hadn’t gone completely insane while he’d been in the kitchen.
“On its way?”
He nodded and collapsed into the couch. “Thirty minutes and
counting. I don’t know about you, but all this excitement is wearing
me out. You want to watch a movie?”
“Sure,” I agreed with amazing calmness out loud. In my head
I was growling at myself to remember that the little moment we had
was just that: a moment. Nothing more. It probably wasn’t even the
same feeling that I was thinking of anyway. It was just some kind of
rush created by the evidence. I walked stiffly over to the couch and
perched delicately on the edge of the couch a good foot away from
him.
Of course, he noticed. Most men probably wouldn’t have
thought twice about the way I was suddenly acting like there was a
stick in my butt, but Tucker was a ghost hunter. He was trained to
be especially perceptive. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just, you know. Overwhelmed by the whole ghost
whistling,” I mumbled, trying not to look at him. He looked so damn
adorable with the concerned expression on his face.
I felt the cushions shift as he stood up, and I allowed myself
to watch his back as he walked over to the stands of movies.
“Nothing better than something mindless to distract you, then. What
are you in the mood for tonight? I’m guessing Paranormal Activity
isn’t really the best choice?”
“Probably not,” I agreed. “What are my non-ghosty
choices?”
He turned around with the same adorable smile adorning his
suddenly handsome features. “Come pick one out.”
I got up and went to stand next to him before the impressive
cinematic collection. As I focused every fiber of my being on the
selection rather than the man next to me, it turned out that Tucker
had pretty much every single one of the best movies of all time.
There were actually a few that I hadn’t seen, too, so I pulled one of
those out with Richard Gere on the cover. “What’s this?”
69

“Primal Fear. That was Edward Norton’s film debut. Pre-
Fight Club and American History X. It's a little heavy, but I promise
there are no ghosts in it.”
“Let’s do it,” I decided, handing it over to him. When his
fingers brushed mine, an electric current surged up my arm and I
dropped it back to my side immediately. Good choice of words,
Chelsea.
Beating the image of what Tucker might look like without
his book pun t-shirt out of my head, I hurried back to the couch and
squeezed my body as far into its arm as I could. Where had this come
from? What are you doing, body? Why are you reacting this way to
Tucker Hamilton?
Luckily, he resumed his previous position on the couch and
didn’t get too close to me. He even left the lights on as the movie
began. Normally, I would get totally lost in the storyline and
everything around me would fade out. But throughout the night,
even when his fingers were covered in pizza grease, all I was
thinking about was how he would react if I reached out to hold his
hand.
70

Chapter Seven
Gunner had pretty much had a child on the carpet when he
found the email with the EVP. So I was only mildly surprised when,
on Thursday morning, he called me into the den and announced that
he had found the song that matched the notes.
“How long have you been working on this?” I teased. “You
need to go out and get a date.”
“Ew,” he responded. “Just listen.” Then he pressed play and
the harmonica in the beginning of Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” floated
from the speakers. As soon as the three notes had finished, he
switched over to the recording of the whistle and played that for me.
“Holy balls,” I exclaimed. The kid was right — the tune
matched perfectly. “Seriously, Gunner, how did you find this?”
He shrugged. “I knew it sounded familiar. So I just went
through iTunes and listened to a lot of well-known songs. I was
hoping that it wouldn’t be some obscure thing that would take me
years to locate.”
“Apparently not. I’m really impressed, dude. This is
awesome!” I wrapped my arms around his neck in a rather violent
sisterly hug. Trouble got up from his place under the desk and started
to bark at me to stop hurting his buddy.
After that, I had no choice but to text Tucker. I had been
trying to avoid thinking about him for the past few days (although it
hadn’t really been working; my brain found a link to him from
almost everything that I looked at). The warm, happy, electric
feeling had subsided considerably since I hadn’t seen him. But when
I looked through my phone for his name, I felt my heart stirring a
little again.
I sent him a text saying that Gunner had found the song that
matched the EVP, and he called me back almost immediately.
“What’s the song? I’ll listen to it right now.”
“’Piano Man’ by Billy Joel,” I replied.
“I’ll call you right back. I need my phone to get to my
music.”
71

Shortly after We Came as Romans blared from my phone as
it rang again. When I picked it up, his voice echoed with the same
enthusiasm as it had when he first found the EVP. “Dude. He’s right.
This is dead on.”
“I know!” I giggled, suddenly feeling giddy. It had to be
from the discovery, right?
“We should celebrate,” he decided. “Do you want to hang
out tonight?”
“I’d like to, but I’m working until eleven.”
“Oh. Well, we’re doing another investigation on Saturday.
Would you want to come along again? Susannah was asking for
you.”
In spite of my inhibitions, I really did want to go on another
investigation with them. The first one had broken out a part of me I
hadn’t even known existed, and I wanted to get to know her a little
better. And besides, this whole evidence-of-the-paranormal thing
was becoming a little addictive. I’d actually plugged my recorder
into my car so I could listen to it on the way to and from work and
search for more EVPs. I hadn’t found anything yet, but that only
made me more eager to come across another.
I couldn’t keep avoiding Tucker forever, anyway. Maybe I
felt a little awkward now that I realized how hot he actually was, but
that was okay. I could be attracted to him in the heat of the moment
without hurting anyone.
“Yes. I’d love to come.”
Over the course of the following month, I went on three more
investigations with his group. Each time, the people in the team
changed up. Tucker wasn’t always the team leader; once there had
been another man in charge. But I still got to pair up with him every
time. More than once, I caught myself just sort of gazing at him and
wondering what it might be like to kiss him. But I always managed
to shake it off and refocus. I was doing a good job of convincing
myself that it was still just fueled by the excitement and all the
emotion being tossed around inside me during investigations.
As far as evidence went, we didn’t gather anything else solid.
Some of the group members were more sensitive to the spirit energy
72

than others, and a few times they picked up on different feelings or
images, but that was about it. There was nothing else tangible to
work with, and I was beginning to realize what Tucker meant when
he said that most of the time they didn’t get anything at all.
One day, he called me right after I got off of work. “Hey,
Chelsea. I sent the report to the Masons last week, and they want us
to come back in for an investigation. When are you available? We
really want you to come back in with us since our evidence was
focused around you last time.”
I was flattered by the request. “I’m only working until four
on Friday. Could we do it then?”
“Absolutely. Listen, since you’ve never gone into a place
more than once, there are a few things you need to be aware of. Are
you around before Friday to go over it?”
We hadn’t hung out, just the two of us, since the night at his
house. This was mostly due to me trying my best to steer clear of
him because I wasn’t sure how to keep myself in check without an
investigation to distract me. But if there were more things I needed
to learn, I didn’t really have too much of a choice. “I’m around
now.”
“Perfect. I’m just closing up. Do you want to come over to
my house?”
And ravage your body? “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right over.”
As soon as I hung up, another call came through, this one
displaying the name “Michelle” on my screen. I stared at the phone
for a moment as the heavy double bass of my ringtone filled the
interior of my Honda. We hadn’t exchanged more than a casual but
undeniably stiff check-in text since we’d butted heads over the ghost
hunting issue.
Immediately, shame smacked me in the face, coloring my
cheeks red as I clicked the button to answer the call. This was my
best friend. I didn’t need to hide what I was doing from her.
Still, blood was pumping loudly in my ears as I answered
and quietly went, “Hey.” Guilty. My voice sounded like a wife
who’d been periodically sneaking out for a midnight rendezvous
with a man who wasn’t her husband.
73

“Hey. Listen, I know we haven’t talked much lately, and I
know we’re both really busy. But I miss you. Are you free Friday
night?” Her voice, on the other hand, sounded like the whimper of a
puppy that had peed on the carpet and was trying to make amends
by bringing a bone to her master.
“That would be …” my cheating wife guilt was a knife
twisting through my insides, abruptly stopping me from finishing
my sentence; it wouldn’t be fun because I couldn’t do it — “great,
on any other day. Sorry, Chelle. I’m busy Friday.”
“What are you doing? Working?” Of course this was her
only logical explanation for my being busy, because if I was free I
would surely have made time for my best friend who I hadn’t seen
in over a month. I definitely wouldn’t be ghost hunting with a cute
older boy and his friends. That wasn’t Chelsea Keller style.
“Uh ... no. I’m going on another ghost investigation.”
“Another?” I could practically see her freckles stretching as
her eyes widened. “Do you like, do this all the time now?”
“Um, kind of.” I picked at a frayed spot on my shorts. “A
few times, anyway.”
“Since when do you want to be involved in this kind of stuff,
Chelsea? You were always scared of it before. And, I mean, it
doesn’t sound safe to me.”
Maybe it was my guilt spurring a more favorable reaction,
but my face started to get hot. The unfaithful wife spoke up
defensively. “It’s safe. I’m fine. I have people teaching me who have
been working with the paranormal for years.”
“What happened to the girl who wouldn’t even watch The
Blair Witch Project?”
“She finally grew a pair.” My cheeks were burning.
Somewhere inside me the guilt was still scratching at my stomach,
trying to remind me that I didn’t need to get so worked up. But I was
starting to spread my wings and she was trying to rein me back in.
“If you want, I can tell you what this is really about. I can show you.
It’s not as scary as we used to think.”
“No, thanks. I’m just fine without Satan appearing in my
bedroom at night.”
74

The anger finally overtook the last of the guilt. “You know,
you’d think that you’d support me now that I’m not being a chicken
shit for once in my life. You’d think that as my best friend you’d
want to encourage me to grow and branch out. Not try and talk me
out of it and refuse to let me try and explain it to you.”
Michelle’s end was silent for a long time, and I was just
about to check and see if she’d hung up on me when she finally said,
“You’d think.” Her words were soft but there were spikes around
them. Her defenses were raised now, too.
“Look. Whenever you want to open your mind a little, then
call me. But I have to go now. I have to go meet some ghost hunters
and summon some demons. Because that’s what we’re all about.”
“Bye, Chelsea.” She ended the call before I got the chance
to respond again.
Wow, Chelsea, since when did you become such a raging
bee-otch?
Since my best friend stopped supporting me and thought I’d
actually be interested in something dangerous and stupid like devil
worshipping, that’s when.
Tucker was waiting for me on the steps when I pulled up and
parked at the curb. When I got out of my car, he announced, “I
picked us up tacos this time. I hope that’s an acceptable substitute
for pizza.”
I grinned, even though my heart decided it was going to act
as a battering ram and try to break free of my chest. All the anger at
Michelle was banished to the tiny corner of my brain that wasn’t
consumed by his gorgeous smile. Stop that, Chelsea. “I suppose it’s
acceptable.”
Tucker led the way up to his kitchen again, and this time we
stopped there. He already had plates set out on the red square table
shoved into one corner, and there was a white paper bag in the
center, presumably holding yummy, spicy deliciousness.
“How was work today?” he asked as we seated ourselves.
I scooted my plastic red chair in closer to the table. “It was
good, thank you. How was work for you? Any new and exciting
customers?”
75

“Nope. It was pretty slow today. But I did get to finish Why
We Suck.” As he loudly crinkled the bag open, the wonderful aroma
wafted out and caressed my nose. I scooted to the edge of my chair
and held up my plate for him to drop my dinner onto it.
After we all but vacuumed up our food with our mouths, I
sat back and patted my newly filled belly. “Tucker Hamilton, you
really know the way to a girl’s heart.” Initially, it had been a joke,
but when my heart actually jerked around, I was instantly attacked
by self-consciousness. Was it okay to joke like that? Did I have to
keep myself more in check? I didn’t want him to know that he
actually did have some effect on my heart now.
Luckily, he didn’t respond directly to the comment. Instead
he just smiled and reached over to grab my plate for me. As he
carried the dishes over to the sink, I crinkled up the empty bag,
attempting to be at least marginally helpful. And distract from my
heart comment, of course.
“Where’s your garbage, buddy?” I asked, fiercely
overcompensating.
He knocked his knee against the cabinet beneath the sink
right in front of him as he turned on the water. “Under here.”
I wandered hesitantly over and waited for him to finish
rinsing the plates. Instead, he just moved over to the side slightly so
I could get to the garbage. With lightning speed I darted forward,
pulled open the cabinet door, and chucked the crumpled paper bag
inside.
Tucker raised an eyebrow as he shut off the sink and dried
his hands on a green and white towel beside it. “You okay?”
I nodded, attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible. As
if I didn’t just break the sound barrier as I hurtled forward to throw
out a bag in the garbage that was dangerously close to his goodies.
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
“Never mind. Shall we go talk business?” He extended one
arm in the direction of the room with the big couch and the TV.
“We shall,” I agreed, glad for another distraction.
We headed into the next room and while I seated myself on
the couch, he strode over to his desk and picked up a manila folder.
76

When he lowered himself — way too close to me, I might add —
onto the leather cushions, he held it out to me. “That’s the report we
compiled from the first investigation. Any evidence we found is in
there. You can read through it whenever you get the chance.”
“Uh-huh.” I swung my knees away from him as I opened the
folder. The report was only about a page long, but as I scanned it I
noticed that they had included the feelings that Brad had and when
Adrian’s hair had been pulled as well as the concrete evidence.
“Wow, you guys really were thorough.”
“We want to give them as much information as we can,” he
pointed out. “Now, we’ll be taking in some different team members
this time, this way there will be some unbiased minds to investigate.
They won’t know what we’ve already found. So you need to be
careful not to mention anything in front of them.”
“Seems easy enough.” I couldn’t really have a conversation
with him while I was facing the opposite direction, so I slid my
knees back around. Unfortunately, I moved a little too fast, and they
knocked gently against his. Once again that electric shock rocketed
up my thigh, and I couldn’t help but glance down to see if there were
actual sparks scattering from where we’d made contact. My head
told me to move away, but my body didn’t want to. I left our knees
touching.
Tucker’s cheeks looked a little flushed. “Okay. So, um, next,
you’ll need to know that we still can’t talk to the Masons about too
much, unless they have direct questions. That report was written in
a way that was meant to comfort them, not make them more
alarmed.”
I glanced back down at the paper, trying to read it and get an
idea of what he meant. But every nerve in my body was completely
focused on the sensation of my leg touching his. I wanted to get
closer. I shouldn’t. But I wanted to.
He granted my wish without even hearing it. He leaned to
point at something on the paper. The print was just gibberish to me
by then; I was too aware of the way his shoulder was pressing
against mine. More of those pleasant, hot sparks were cascading
down into my hand and the rest of my torso. “See here, how we
77

wrote that Adrian felt a slight tug on her hair, rather than a pull?”
His breath was warm against my cheek as he spoke.
I think I heard that faint voice of reason in the back of my
head warning me not to do what my body was urging me to, but I
was past the point of logic. My body was alive with the tingle he
was sending through me with just an accidental touch. I needed to
know what it would be like to really touch him.
Slowly, I turned my head to face him. My heart was raving
in my chest as it pumped adrenaline through me. His dark eyes met
mine, and I searched them for just a second, hoping for a green light.
Then I let mine close, leaned in, and gently placed my lips against
his. The touch was so soft, but instantly the delicious warm
sensation started at my toes and spread the rest of the way up my
body.
At first, he didn’t react, but after a moment he pressed back
into the kiss. One hand reached up and gently rested on my cheek.
Even more of those wonderful hot sparks rained down through my
face, my throat, and into my torso.
Yesss. Triumph joined the rush of emotions as I opened my
mouth a little. His hand moved from my cheek down onto the side
of my neck, then wrapped around the back. I brought one of my own
hands up to rest on his chest. Even though he wasn’t a big guy, his
body felt warm and strong beneath my fingers.
I wasn’t sure how long we were making out on his couch for,
but it was starting to get really difficult to resist the urge to let my
hand wander a little lower. Luckily, Tucker pulled back from the
kiss, but just far enough so his lips were out of reach. Those
bottomless brown eyes latched onto my gaze and held me there. My
heart was still furiously pulsing away, but I took the moment to catch
my breath.
“Wow,” he breathed softly.
A small laugh bubbled up from inside me. I was on such a
high from his lips; my head actually felt clouded and fuzzy. “You
said it, dude.”
He leaned a little closer and rested his forehead against mine.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”
78

I pulled away so I could get a better view of his face. “You’re
shitting me. I’ve been fighting the urge since the night we watched
Primal Fear.”
“What? Why were you fighting it?” he exclaimed. His
normally pale face was flushed with the same kind of life that was
flowing through me.
“I didn’t think it was appropriate to jump the team leader!” I
shot back.
We stared at each other for a moment, and then a fit of
laughter clutched us both. He’d been waiting for me to make the
move for as long as I’d been battling it off and insisting the feelings
weren’t really there.
“Well, if you’d jumped me in an investigation, I might have
had to push you away,” Tucker said thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t
have wanted to.”
“Is this okay, though?” I asked, for once being totally
serious. Just because he kissed me now didn’t mean he would let me
do it again.
For an answer, he leaned in and kissed me again. After a few
more heart-booming seconds, he broke free and said, “Of course it’s
okay. It’s more than okay. It’s amazing.”
I could feel color rushing to my own face, so I leaned my
body into his and rested my head against his shoulder. Amazing. It
had been a while since anyone had used that word to describe a
moment with me. But it was exactly the word I’d been thinking of.
“I can’t believe you just kissed me,” he mused.
“I can’t believe I just kissed you, either,” I giggled.
We sat there for a little while longer, the quiet suddenly
feeling not so deafening, but comfortable. My heart quieted down a
bit, and my nerves relaxed a little. I was still very aware of his body
against mine and the heat it was radiating, but the big question had
been answered. I now knew what would happen if I kissed Tucker.
However, another question slowly began to rise up in place of the
old one.
“So what happens now?” I asked, shattering the silence
around us.
79

Tucker didn’t answer at first, and I couldn’t help but wonder
if he was going to say it couldn’t happen again. But when he spoke,
his solution made my heart flutter again. “Now, I take you out this
weekend. Not just for a Chai and pumpkin bread or pizza and tacos.
I mean for a real dinner.”
“That would be awesome,” I replied. “It’s okay to, you
know, date another investigator?”
He shrugged. “I know there are some couples who are
members. As long as we don’t let it interfere with the actual work,
it’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be totally professional!” I pulled away from his
shoulder and sat up straight, raising an arm in salute.
“Oh, definitely,” he agreed with a laugh.
“But right now we don’t have to be.” I leaned in and pressed
my mouth against his lips. I wasn’t quite finished with him yet.
On Friday night when we pulled up in front of the Masons’
house, both of our bellies were full of delicious Italian food from a
family-owned place Tucker had introduced me to. I had given up on
a few failed attempts to keep the goofy smile off my face; it just
wasn’t going away. If I had expected things to change between us
after I made a move, I had been totally mistaken. Things hadn’t been
any different except that I could reach out and hold his hand beneath
the booth and we’d spent a few minutes making out in the car before
leaving for the investigation.
This time it was a brand-new, spotless white Camaro that
was parked in front of us. I didn’t have time to wonder who it
belonged to before Susannah climbed out of the driver’s side. Damn,
that girl had it all. “Okay, is Susannah a hired assassin or
something?” I asked. “How does she afford a car like that?”
He laughed as he reached for the door handle. “Not exactly.
She’s a pharmacist.”
“Oh, how I wish I wasn’t going to be forty before I have my
degree,” I groaned.
80

“It might be helpful if you figure out what you want to do
first,” Tucker teased, swinging his legs around so he could step out
of the car.
Susannah threw herself into him in a hug and then zeroed in
on me. The sugary aroma of strawberries and cream invaded my
nose. “Hi, guys!” she greeted us with her usual bubbliness.
Brad was the other member of the original investigation to
join us. He didn’t hug me, but he shook my hand and asked with a
smile, “When are you going to become a member already?”
I glanced up at Tucker and had to pause for a moment just to
admire how good-looking he was. Seriously, that boy had the most
heart-throbbingly gorgeous brown eyes I’d ever seen. Then my mind
refocused and I searched his gaze for any indication that Brad’s
suggestion would be a possibility. He had never brought it up before,
but I’d been on four investigations with them. My comfort level had
seriously adjusted, even though nothing truly exciting had
happened. I felt better about being in the dark and had learned my
way around the basic equipment. As far as I was concerned, I wanted
to keep it up.
He wasn’t paying attention, though; he was too busy shaking
the hands of the other two members of the night’s team. I had met
them both before; one was this giant, burly man in his late thirties
named Anthony, and the other was an awkward kind of guy around
my age named Jamie.
Once all the hellos had been exchanged, we stood in a circle
to ground ourselves. By that time, they didn’t need to guide me, but
Anthony filled the silence with a prayer that asked the protection of
Saint Michael. My eyes roved to the giant golden cross resting in
the open V of his navy polo. I’d never reached out for protection
from a higher power, but the more religious members of the group
held tightly to their respective faiths.
As we carried our cases along the cement walkway up to the
front door, Susannah fell into step beside me at the back of the
group. “Hey, Chelsea, it looks like you and I are the only ladies
tonight,” she pointed out. “Do you want to work together?”
81

I considered this for a moment. Up until then, I had always
worked side by side with Tucker. I’d built up a definite level of trust
in him, and I knew that he had faith in me. I’d only met Susannah
for investigations, and our interactions had been brief. It would take
quite a leap forward for me to abandon what I’d grown comfortable
with in exchange for something uncertain. Especially in a place
where we’d actually gotten some tangible evidence before. But she
seemed super nice and friendly, and she’d been doing this as long as
Tucker had. Plus, if she was his best friend, she had to be some kind
of awesome. “Sure,” I agreed. “That would be fun.”
“Is that okay, Mr. Team Leader?” She swung her case
forward and jabbed Tucker in the back of the knee.
“Hey!” He stepped quickly sideways and glanced over his
shoulder at us. “That’s fine if that’s what you guys want. Jamie,
you’re coming with me tonight.”
He certainly didn’t seem worried about me pairing with
Susannah, so I felt my confidence inflate a little. A very little, but it
was something.
As soon as the Masons opened the door, I decided that the
way that they had written the report of findings to make it sound as
comforting as possible had definitely been a success. The couple
seemed much more at ease this time around. They were smiling
when they welcomed us into their home, and Mrs. Mason even stood
on her own rather than hiding behind her husband.
Tucker and the Masons brought Jamie and Anthony for a
walkthrough of the house, while Brad, Susannah, and I stayed in the
kitchen to unload some equipment. Brad brought forth his video
camera and tripod, and instead of just asking the more experienced
member, he asked both of us, “Where do you think we should put
this?”
“I’d say one of the places where Chelsea and Tucker got
some hard evidence last time,” Susannah suggested. “I was going to
say we put a motion detector in the playroom.”
I bobbed my head. “That was my first thought, too. The place
we actually saw something move would be a good place to have a
camera set up in case someone decides to play Barbies again.”
82

Brad agreed, and departed to go get it set up. As soon as he
was gone, Susannah plopped a motion detector into my hand.
“Come on, Chica. We’re gonna put these in the bedrooms upstairs.”
She held up her own and flashed an excited grin. This girl had done
hundreds of investigations, and she was still so enthusiastic about it.
Then again, you never really knew what to expect. It couldn’t
exactly get old fast.
In a few minutes, we had everything placed where it needed
to be. I was actually glad that Susannah had asked me to partner with
her, because since I wasn’t shadowing Tucker, I could actually
contribute to the setup. A new sense of importance layered the edges
of my confidence; I held my head uncharacteristically high as I
stepped back onto the pink and white kitchen tiles.
“Does anyone have a preference where they want to start?”
Tucker asked, hoisting an expensive-looking camera on a thick strap
over his head.
“I want to check out the master bedroom again,” Brad spoke
up.
“No problem. Susannah and Chelsea, you two can take the
downstairs for now.”
“Roger,” she chimed in.
“Okay, then.” Tucker finished adjusting his camera around
his neck and met my gaze pointedly. “If everyone is ready, then
we’ll go lights out.”
Even though I was getting an ego boost from handling this
on my own, it was a definite relief to know he still had my back. I
nodded slightly, just enough to send him the message that I’d be
fine.
Everyone else filed out of the kitchen, and the last one
flipped the light switch, leaving Susannah and me in the dark. For a
second or two, it was still freaky as my mind kicked into horrormovie-writer
gear, wondering what was lurking in the corners, just
waiting for us to wander too close. Then logic bubbled up from my
smarter stream of consciousness and washed over my sympathetic
nervous system, reminding it that nothing had ever actually grabbed
me from the shadows.
83

“Let’s head right for the goods,” my partner gushed. The red
circle from her flashlight rested on the now-empty doorway leading
into the hallway. “I want to go play Barbies with some ghosts.”
I clicked on my own flashlight and gestured for her to lead
the way. “Sounds good to me.”
My heart began to flutter as we stepped down into the sunken
playroom once again. The familiar giant bay window and ten
thousand toy-filled plastic bins dragged forth the memory of our last
visit. My brain set up this big screen display of Barbie falling over
at my feet, adding in the special effect of a tiny doll scream.
Swallowing the rising fear, I squared my shoulders and
marched right over to where we had been sitting last time. Instead
of taking the floor again, I perched on top of a bin as Tucker had.
Susannah took the opportunity to open another of them and
pull out a few toys. Carefully, she laid out a plastic stegosaurus, a
stuffed rabbit, and another Barbie. Just as I had, she sat down on the
floor and laid them out in a perfectly straight row. Then she looked
up at me through eyelashes weighted down with a ton of mascara
and grinned. “If there is anyone else here with us, I’ve got some toys
for you to play with.”
84

Chapter Eight
We sat in the playroom for the entire forty-five minutes it
took for Tucker to radio us and ask if we were ready to switch. I set
up my digital recorder beside me and we asked all the standard
questions, along with a few about if the spirits remembered me.
Apparently, my friend didn’t feel very playful, because those toys
didn’t move a fraction of a quarter of a centimeter. The room was as
silent and motionless as a church on a Friday night.
Susannah’s face oozed disappointment as she spoke into the
walkie-talkie. “Yeah, we can switch. Nothing’s happening down
here.”
I gathered up my equipment and started slipping things back
into their respective pockets in the camo cargo pants I’d discovered
to be quite handy. “Maybe there will be something on the audio or
video.”
She shrugged one shoulder as she placed each toy back into
the bin they came from. “I guess so.”
We headed for the enormous doorway and as I stepped up
onto the tiles of the hallway, I felt a rough shove from behind me. It
was a good thing I had all my equipment in my pockets, because my
hands shot out to break my fall as I tripped forward. My palms
smacked the cool floor at the same time that my shin collided with
the step. Hot sparks flew up my arms and leg on impact, but luckily
I saved myself from a total face-plant.
As soon as I realized that my body wasn’t injured, I
recognized that my pride was. A furious blush rushed up my neck to
my cheeks and I whipped around, ready to ask Susannah just what
her problem was.
Instead, her pretty eyes were wide with concern as she
swooped down on me. “Are you okay?” she asked frantically, her
voice higher than usual. “What happened? Did you catch your shoe
on the step?”
“Uh, no.” All the blood must have rushed to my hands and
my shin, because my brain was working extra slowly. “I felt a pretty
good push.”
85

Susannah’s hand instantly covered her perfectly painted lips,
but didn’t actually touch them so as to keep the makeup intact. “You
what? I swear, Chelsea, I didn’t touch you. I had my camera in both
hands.” She held it up for emphasis.
Finally, something in my mind plugged in again. Even more
adrenaline rushed forth and I was on my feet in less than a second.
“Something pushed me.”
Her head jerked in every direction, looking for something
she wouldn’t ever be able to find. “Who’s here?” she demanded.
“Did you just push Chelsea? Why would you do that?”
Suddenly, I felt hands on my shoulders. I jumped high
enough that I almost hung myself on the immaculate chandelier
dangling from the ceiling. When I hit the ground again, I swung
around to see dark eyebrows furrowed over familiar brown eyes.
“What happened?” Tucker asked. “Someone pushed you?”
I nodded as my heart pounded against my chest like a dog’s
foot against the floor as it scratched itself. The explanation stuck to
my heavy tongue.
Susannah came to my rescue. “We were just walking out of
the room and it looked like she tripped.”
Jamie poked his head out from behind Tucker and nodded at
something behind us, inside the playroom. “It looks like the camera
might have captured it.”
As he and Susannah went over to check it out, I sucked in
deep breaths of air to calm myself down. It was totally bad to let the
residents see one of the investigators freaking out. They would
definitely not be reassured by a professional blubbering about how
Casper gave her a shove. I had to get it together.
“Are you okay?” Tucker asked. He still hadn’t taken his
hands off my shoulders. As I started to think clearly again, a warm
tingle began to spread from where his fingers rested. His grip was
strong, but so gentle.
The comfort of his touch was just what I needed to focus on
to bring myself back to center. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little wigged.”
I glanced over my shoulder as if I expected to see the culprit. Okay,
Chels, keep searching for the Invisible Man.
86

Instead of a terrifying monster with giant claws, or whatever
nonsensical beast I expected, I only saw Susannah and Jamie
huddled around the little camera screen. When they noticed me
looking, they both waved us over at the same time. I was hesitant to
break away from Tucker’s hands, but I had to see what they’d found.
He was right at my heels anyway as I joined the other two.
They moved over to give us a better view of the palm-sized screen.
Jamie had his hand on a button, and I saw myself falling in reverse
as he rewound the footage. A second after I was on my feet on the
video, he took his finger off the button. “Okay, right here. This is
some Paranormal Activity shit.”
My eyes glued themselves to the tiny image of me as it raised
one foot to step out of the room. Suddenly, what looked like a very
small and subtle shock wave blasted out from the center of my back,
sending ripples through my t-shirt. Susannah was easily a foot
behind me, with both her hands on her camera, just as she’d said.
Surprisingly, I didn’t freak out. In fact, I didn’t really feel
anything. Maybe my body was becoming immune to fear after being
constantly attacked by it. Or maybe it didn’t know how to process
the physics-defying event it had just been a victim of. It was quite a
weird phenomenon to stand there feeling absolutely nothing,
watching a clip of myself being shoved by an invisible force. I raised
my hand to point at the screen. Despite my numbness, it was
quivering. “Can ... can I see that again?”
“Yeah, sure.” Jamie fumbled hurriedly with the device and
rewound it again. Once more we saw the clear imprint of something
hitting my back, only nothing was there.
By the time it was over, my brain had remembered how to
send reactions through my body. Dampness was clutching at the
fabric under my arms and my breathing sounded ragged and
shallow. My heart rate was gaining speed like a rocket launching
into the sky.
“Are you okay, Chelsea?” Susannah asked. “You look
awfully pale.”
87

“Yeah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jamie offered.
When no one laughed, he immediately busied himself with the
camera again. “I’ll just rewind this ...”
I shook my head. No, I was very not okay. The events had
finally just registered in my head. Everything I had been afraid of
had just come into being right in front of me. Well, behind me,
technically. Something I couldn’t see had attacked me. The spirit
had given me a pretty hefty shove and I could have gotten seriously
hurt. This was the reason that they had terrified me so much in the
first place. And now I had a reason to be afraid.
“Come on, let’s go outside for a minute. You guys can start
the second sweep without us.” Tucker laid his hands on my
shoulders again and steered me in the direction of the door. I didn’t
need much pushing. Now that I had an excuse to run away, I
quickened my pace and actually leapt right out from under his grip
and up out of the sunken room.
Once we stepped out into the warm, damp night air, he sat
down on the cement step and patted the spot next to him. Gratefully,
I sank down like a deflating balloon, all the tension whooshing out
of me in a massive sigh. I was out of the house. I wasn’t trapped
there with a nasty spirit who wanted to hurt me. It was okay to
breathe again.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against
his side. His body was warm and steady. “Remember what I said,
Chels? You can always leave if you get spooked or uncomfortable
at all. You didn’t have to wait for me to make the decision.”
“I wasn’t thinking. My basic motor functions kind of shut
down to make room for all of that terror.” I stared at the tiny cracks
in the gray material beneath us. Its cool temperature was seeping
through my jeans, contrasting the humid air.
“What are you thinking now?” His thumb gently traced a
circle on my bare arm.
“Honestly? I’m thinking my worst fear just came true. That
was like something straight out of a horror movie. Something
invisible just pushed me down. I had no way of fighting back or
seeing it coming. It could hurt me again.”
88

Tucker was quiet for a moment, and all I could hear was the
sound of his breath gently moving next to my ear. Then he asked,
“Did it hurt you?”
“It shoved me!” I exclaimed instinctively, and then I actually
thought about the question. Yeah, my shin might be bruised a little.
But it didn’t hurt now. My hands weren’t stinging. Nothing was
sprained, twisted, or broken. No blood had been shed during the
incident. “Well ... I guess not really. It tried though.”
“Maybe. And maybe it was able to touch you because you
let your guard down a little because we were wrapping up the first
round. In any case, this ‘worst fear’ of yours — it just happened.
And you survived it.”
Damn. The boy had a point. I was pretty much no worse for
wear after the incident. Granted, I was a little shook up, and I’d most
likely have a bruise, but that was the worst of it. I wasn’t
psychologically scarred — at least as far as I could tell. I wasn’t
running screaming for my mommy. I wasn’t being rushed to the
hospital or spinning my head in a full 360, Regan style.
“Trust me. I’ve never been pushed, but I have had things
thrown at me. And let me tell you, I know it’s freaky. But you’re not
defenseless. Remember, you’re alive. They’re dead. You can claim
your space and ground yourself again and head back in there and be
just fine again.” His voice circled my head and seemed to stroke my
frazzled nerves; I could feel the adrenaline slowly dissipating.
For a few minutes, we just sat there and I focused on doing
just what he’d said. I felt the ground beneath my feet and envisioned
myself covered in armor and surrounded by white light. Little by
little, my senses began to return to normal.
After a while, he asked, “Do you feel better now?”
I sucked in a deep breath and heaved it out. The oxygen was
definitely clearing my head. That and not being stuck in a room with
an angry dead guy. “Yeah, I do.”
Tucker’s fingers touched my cheek and he gently turned my
head up so I would meet his gaze. Those coffee-colored eyes
grabbed me and held me in place. “Do you want to sit out the rest of
this investigation?”
89

The blood rushed to my cheeks and I wanted to break the
gaze, but I just couldn’t look away. Yes, I definitely wanted to. I
wanted to run home and curl up under the covers and never think
about ghosts again. But could I?
“Chelsea. Nobody is going to judge you. I promise.” His
eyes were void of their normal playful light.
I’d already taken a few steps out of the door and wanted to
continue in the general away direction. Temptation was lounging
seductively on the sidewalk, raising a finger and beckoning me to it.
Every fiber in my body wanted to run into its arms and let it take me
away to safety. But if I let myself keep running, would I ever stop
and turn around again?
Who was I kidding? There was no way in hell that I was
coming back if I left.
“I’ll come back in.” I finally broke from his gaze and stood
up.
“Are you sure?” Tucker rose to his feet and looked down at
me, his forehead creased in a frown. “You know you shouldn’t push
yourself when it comes to the paranormal.”
I knew what he was talking about; if you were too shaken,
too unguarded, you were an easier target for any spirits in the area.
If you had a bad feeling about a case, the general rule of thumb was
to just not participate. But whoever this spirit was, whatever it had
pushed me for, whatever it wanted from any of us, I couldn’t let it
get the best of me. He was right; the worst had happened, and
looking back, it turned out to not be that bad at all. I was fine.
Although he had sounded cautious, he seemed totally
psyched to have me on board again. A big smile broke out across his
fair skin and he looked like he wanted to reach out and hug me.
Whether he stopped himself because he was nervous or trying to be
professional, I wasn’t sure.
With a deep breath, I turned and opened the door to step back
inside.
The rest of the night was more than encouraging. I traded
partners with Jamie so I could stick by Tucker, just in case I needed
90

to borrow some of that confidence again. But it was really
unnecessary. Although something incredibly freaky had happened
in the beginning, the remainder of the investigation was completely
uneventful. Everyone had material to work with after the shove; they
had specific questions to ask and they all wanted to get into the
playroom. But there was no response, at least none that we could
hear or see.
I elected to head home instead of joining the group for their
usual post-investigation diner rendezvous. Even though nothing else
had happened, I felt thoroughly drained. Probably from focusing all
my energy on making sure I was completely, totally, one hundred
percent covered in my imaginary armor. My brain was fried from all
the concentration. We didn’t talk too much on the way home — in
spite of the scare factor of the evening, I was drifting in and out of
consciousness as sleep grappled for a hold on me.
When Tucker pulled into my driveway, I stumbled sleepily
out the door onto the blacktop. To my surprise, he turned off the car
and got out with me. “You coming in?” I asked.
He laughed. “I’m just walking you to the door.”
Hmm. So maybe things were a little bit different between us.
I was getting some real lady treatment, apparently. He fell into step
beside me as we made the short trek up the drive and to the front
door. The outdoor light wasn’t on, which meant that my dad was
home and had turned it off automatically when he went to bed.
“Well,” I said, not sure exactly how to say goodnight to a
new, sort-of, not-official boyfriend after a paranormal investigation.
Needless to say, it wasn’t a situation I found myself in frequently.
“Listen,” he interrupted my trying to think of what to say. “I
wanted to let you know how impressed I was tonight. I probably
wouldn’t have gone back in after that.”
My eyebrows shot so far up that anyone leaning out a second
floor window could have reached out and caught them. “Really?”
Tucker seemed so fearless when it came to ghost hunting. “Even
though that wasn’t a demonic case or anything?”
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He shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it was still a big deal. That
doesn’t happen every day. I would probably have stayed on the
porch the rest of the night if it was me.”
“Well, damn, if I’d known that, I probably would have, too!”
I exclaimed. Then I couldn’t help but let out a giggle. This was
reassuring. I figured the professional ghost hunters were well past
the point of being scared. I knew that they had the bad feelings
equals stay away rule, but I didn’t think anything could happen midinvestigation
to make them want to leave.
“You know the case last Saturday night that you didn’t come
to because you were working?” When I nodded, he went on. “Ethan
left in the middle of that one. He was getting some stomach pains
and he just didn’t feel right about it. Sometimes you just have to cut
your losses and realize that you might be better off not involving
yourself in a certain case.”
I wondered if maybe I should have sat out the rest of the
time. Would I wake up covered in warts or with my pupils covering
the whites of my eyes or something? I opened my mouth to vocalize
this concern, but Tucker wasn’t done.
“If you weren’t meant to stay in this case, you would have
felt it and known to sit out. It’s not fear that keeps a person away;
it’s a different feeling. I can’t describe it. You’ll feel it someday; we
all do. All I can say is that you’re something else, Chelsea Keller.
You don’t have any idea how strong you really are.”
By this time, his face was about a thumb’s length away from
mine, and my heart was already thumping away. Electricity crackled
between us as his words encircled me and twined themselves
through my nerves. This indescribable feeling of lightness gripped
me. Nobody had ever made me feel like I was strong before. I always
felt like I was the baby of any group, the first one to turn and bolt
like a bunny into her hole if there was trouble. Now I was hearing
it outright from this boy. And, I suddenly realized, I cared very much
what he thought of me.
This time, he made the move forward. His lips pressed
lightly against mine and ignited a fire in my mouth. It spread in a
matter of seconds all the way down to my toes. I stepped forward
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and pressed myself up against him, reaching up to touch his face
with both hands.
At this very opportune moment, the front door swung open
beside us with an obnoxious squeal. I jumped back from Tucker
quickly and wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, trying to
clear the imaginary evidence of what we’d just been doing. When,
other than in the movies, does crap like that actually happen?
Gunner’s eyebrows were hanging out in the air above his
head with mine from earlier. “Um, sorry, I, uh, thought maybe you
forgot your key, ‘cause you were, you know, uh, standing here for
so long.” His cheeks were a shade of red I’d never seen before.
Instead of getting annoyed by the interruption, Tucker let out
a good-natured laugh. “It’s okay, man. Gunner, right? I’m Tucker.”
He held out his hand to my little brother just as he would to any
adult.
The kid shook off the awkward immediately. “Oh! Hi,
Tucker. It’s nice to meet you.” He shook hands enthusiastically.
“How did the investigation go?” His head twisted from one of us to
the next and back again, awaiting an explanation.
“Do you want to come in?” I offered. “This might take a
while.”
Tucker’s smile faltered for maybe half a second. Was he
nervous? We’d been to his house before, but never to mine. He
didn’t let it stop him if he was. He nodded. “Sure, I can hang out for
a little bit. Thank you.”
As soon as we closed the front door behind us, Trouble
rocketed out of nowhere and crashed into the newcomer’s knees. I
held up my finger as a warning for him not to bark or jump, so he
just pressed his skinny body into Tucker’s legs and panted, staring
up at me innocently.
Most people tried to avoid the hyperactive mutt, but not this
one. He immediately got on his knees and started scratching behind
Trouble’s fluffy ears. “Oh, man. You didn’t tell me you had a dog.
I love dogs. Hey, little guy. What’s his name?”
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“Trouble,” Gunner said proudly, as the canine in question
flopped over on his back, begging for a tummy rub. Tucker complied
readily.
After a few minutes, during which my brother filled my beau
in on the entire story of how we’d come to own the dog (which
wasn’t very exciting; it just involved a trip to the animal shelter and
naming him when he broke a vase the second he came into the
house), we moved to sit on the couch and discuss the investigation.
As excited as he was, Gunner could barely keep his eyes
open. A few questions in, his head started to droop while he listened
to Tucker explaining where we’d placed the cameras and motion
detectors.
“Gun, are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” I asked.
“No, I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I want to hear ...” His voice
trailed off into a totally un-translatable murmur as his head rolled to
the side to rest on a pillow.
We stayed quiet for a little while, letting him disappear from
the world. During these moments, my mind was racing. I was high
on the compliments he’d paid me outside and new pride in myself
for sticking out the investigation, and maybe a little drunk from the
one head-spinning kiss we’d snuck in before we were interrupted.
My room was only a few steps away. Temptation was hanging out
down the hall again, wiggling his finger in that old “come-hither”
gesture. I wanted so badly to invite Tucker back there and see what
he looked like underneath that black t-shirt.
But I hesitated. We had barely started this thing between us;
he wasn’t even officially my boyfriend or anything. I didn’t want to
take things too fast and make it weird. Normally, I wasn’t the one
leading the way, so I didn’t have to think about these things so much.
But Tucker was different; he was either very shy or very polite and
gentlemanly. Maybe a little of both. I wondered, though, if he was
thinking about it, too.
Once I was certain that Gunner was asleep and movement
wouldn’t disturb him, I rose from the couch. “You better go before
I try and take advantage of you.” The words were serious, but I
laughed quietly to direct it as a flirty joke instead.
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“Please explain to me how that’s supposed to be incentive to
leave.” He grinned as he stood up next to me and reached for my
hand. I laced my fingers through his and walked with him to the
front door.
“Thank you for dinner,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms
around him and fell into his embrace. “And thank you for
encouraging me tonight. You’re the best.”
I felt him kiss the top of my head, but he didn’t respond. He
just held me there, his arms tightly encircling me. My ear was
pressed against his chest, and I could hear his heart bumping against
it, quicker than I would have expected. I couldn’t keep the smile
from stretching across my face. Who knew that after everything that
had happened to scare me that night, I could still feel completely
secure, like nothing in the whole world could touch me in that
moment.
After a little while, he pulled back a little so he could make
eye contact again. “Do you remember what Brad asked you earlier?”
“About joining you guys for real? I didn’t think you heard
that.”
“I did. And I think it’s an awesome idea. Would you want
to? I mean, you’re basically a member as it is. You’ve done, what,
five investigations? Six? All we’d have to do is set up a meeting
with Daisy and Richard and they’ll officially put you in the training
program. You’ve already had over a month of experience anyway.”
Regardless of the whole ghost-pushing-me-and-scaring-meshitless
ordeal, I didn’t even have to think about it. My confidence
had grown into an enormous monster and I was ready for just about
anything. “Yes. I’d love to.”
A massive smile pulled his lips away from his teeth. “Great.
I’ll give them a call in the morning and we’ll set something up. Now
it’s really time for me to leave before I let you take advantage of
me.” He bent his head down to kiss me again. Heat radiated from
him, warming me all the way through every crevice of my body. I
was seriously reconsidering inviting him back to my room, but it
was over as fast as it started; he stepped back and reached for the
doorknob. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Keller. Goodnight.” In a moment,
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he was gone, closing the door behind him. I barely heard its squeal
over the thundering of my heart.
96

Chapter Nine
It took a few more weeks for Richard and Daisy to have free
time in their schedule to see me. During that time, I kept myself busy
with work, two more investigations, and as much time as I could
manage to get with Tucker. I put my monthly free tickets to good
use when I took him to see the latest Tarantino movie, and he took
me out to dinner again. Sometimes we just met up after work for
coffee (or tea, in my case) in downtown Bethany. Once, he even
took me to this park where they had an old castle on the grounds that
was rumored to be haunted. The group had tried to get in a few
times, but they couldn’t get clearance from the town because the
place was so dilapidated. It was still really cool to walk around and
check it out.
Finally, the group’s directors had about an hour one
Wednesday night, so we met them at Joe Bean’s around seven
o’clock. Tucker came with me because I’d asked him to, even
though he insisted I could do it on my own. I knew I could, but I
wanted him there anyway. He was far more the expert than me.
The baristas knew our orders by heart, so one of them set the
two cups down in front of us just as we caught sight of Richard and
Daisy. They were both wearing black t-shirts bearing the words
“Lark Hollow Paranormal Research” above a phone number in the
same blue-with-white outline lettering.
“Hi, Tucker. Hi, Chelsea,” Richard greeted us as they
approached the table. He held out his hand to me first, and when I
took it, mine was nearly engulfed in his clammy grip. He smiled as
he sat down and Daisy popped up to shake hands next.
Once they were both seated, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why
don’t you guys wear those shirts to investigations? They’re great.
And they look so professional.”
“We don’t want to alert the clients’ neighbors that they’re
having a paranormal investigation,” Daisy explained. “We try to
protect their privacy at all costs. If their friends start thinking they’re
wacky, they might be a little irritated with us for not being discreet.”
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“Oh. Good point.” I immediately took a sip of my Chai so
nothing else silly would come out of my mouth. Tucker’s fingers
came to rest gently on my knee under the table, and sparks fired up
my thigh. I raised the green mug higher so it would cover the blush
creeping onto my cheeks. The spicy aroma of the tea pounded
heavily against my nose, but I resisted the urge to move it and gulp
in some fresh air.
“So, we hear you’ve been quite an asset to our team,”
Richard said, getting right to business. “We’d love to have you
aboard. We welcome any individual interested in helping people
experiencing hauntings. You understand that we are a totally
nonprofit organization, correct? Also that you will need to be free
on Friday and Saturday nights for investigations, and some Sundays
for group meetings?”
I bobbed my head, lowering the teacup. I’d downed it all by
that time, so there could be no more hiding. “Yes, sir. I work full
time, so I won’t be free always, but when I am, I’m all yours.”
“That’s fine.” He waved his hand. “As long as you’re around
for at least half of them. We just need to make sure you’re serious.”
“You also understand that most of the time, absolutely
nothing paranormal will be happening. You’ll be sitting there in the
dark with nothing going on and you need to maintain a professional
demeanor and resist goofing off. Unless you want to play with some
Barbies.” Daisy winked at me.
I glanced at Tucker. “He told you about that?”
His hand squeezed my knee as he smiled.
“Sweetheart, we’ve seen the evidence,” Daisy replied.
“Footage like that isn’t something we get regularly. Tucker wasn’t
going to leave us out.”
“You already know that most investigations begin at 9pm,
and can end at any time throughout the night. We usually tell
residents that we need the house until 3am, just to be safe. They
hardly ever go that long,” Richard added. “Most of the things that
we would normally tell you, you already know.”
“Excuse our redundancy,” Daisy added.
“Don’t worry,” I assured them. “I’m paying attention.”
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The pair went on to explain to me the investigation
procedure and told me that some of them were often at least two
hours away. They told me that soon I would start attending
preliminary visits in which they would interview the clients on the
paranormal happenings in their house, but on those cases I would
not be investigating because I would have already established a
relationship with the residents. Then they finished up by telling me
that I’d go through another two months of training before I became
an official investigator, and some of these would have to be in
cemeteries or buildings other than houses to make sure I had
experience in all areas.
When my head was totally filled to capacity with ghostly
information, they sat back over their newly-ordered coffees and
smiled in unison.
“Well,” Daisy mused. “That’s that, then. We have a
cemetery training this Saturday night. Are you available?”
I nodded. “I am. I get off work at 8. I’ll come over right from
the theater.”
“Excellent.” Richard took a sip of his coffee and I couldn’t
help but wonder if anything he drank or ate got stuck in his
lumberjack beard.
“Welcome to the Lark Hollow Paranormal Research group,
Chelsea Keller. The last thing we’ll need you to do is fill out some
forms with some basic information, just like a job application.
They’re on the website, so you can print them and give them back
to us on Saturday.” Daisy reached across the table to shake my hand
again. Her elbow bumped her coffee cup gently and a few droplets
splashed out onto the little plate beneath the cup.
“Thank you!” I felt like I was being let into some kind of
secret society. It was so different, so unique, so unaccepted by
everyday people. And not long ago, I’d been one of them. Who
would have thought that I’d wind up joining a ghost hunting group?
And nobody even had a gun to my head or anything!
“So, what do you do in your spare time? Did I hear you say
theater?” Richard asked.
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I gave them a little bit of background information on me
right there, telling them about my job and where I went to school
and that I lived very close by. They in turn told me that Daisy
worked for a florist and Richard was a dental hygienist. Go figure,
right?
Once all the mugs had been emptied, we all stood up to say
goodbye. The directors of the paranormal group both shook my hand
again and congratulated me. Daisy said she would look forward to
seeing me on Saturday, and then they said farewell to Tucker, too.
After they departed for their vehicle, I reached into my
pocket to fish out my keys, but Tucker interrupted my search when
he threw his arms around me. “Congrats, Chels!” I think he tried to
lift me off the ground, but it didn’t work out, so he settled for
swinging me from side to side excitedly.
“Help! Assault!” I squealed sarcastically as I pretended to
try and wiggle away. Really, I was just as excited as he was. I could
barely believe I’d actually just had that conversation, and they were
all congratulating my membership to a ghost hunting organization.
Seriously. Ghost. Hunting. And me. In the same group.
He laughed and let me go, then reached into his own pocket.
A glance at his phone told him the time. “It’s only 8:30. Do you
want to come over for a little bit?”
My heart thudded hard into my ribs. We hadn’t been to
Tucker’s place since the very first time we kissed. Whenever we
hung out, it was always in public or at a stranger’s house for an
investigation. The prospect of being alone with him, with no one
else around, was even more exciting than my acceptance into LHPR.
“I guess I don’t have anything better to do.” I rolled my eyes
upwards coyly, trying to look bored.
Tucker bent over in a mock bow. “Oh, thank you, Princess,
for taking time to grace me with your presence.”
I fell right into the role. “You are most welcome, lowly
commoner. I also give you permission to carry me down the street
to your house. I am most exhausted from my long day of looking in
the mirror and brushing my hair.” I flipped said hair over my
shoulder dramatically.
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“Tough luck, sister.” He gave me a gentle shoulder bump
and started off in the direction of his apartment building.
When we arrived, he led the way into the living room area.
“Movie?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but glance curiously at the closed door in the
corner that I assumed led to his bedroom. Curiosity was scratching
at my insides, but I swallowed it down. Just because we were alone
at his place didn’t mean we’d wind up there. Right?
“A movie would be fantastic,” I agreed. “Oh! Remember we
were talking about Catch Me if You Can?”
“Yes! I actually did pick that up the other day.” Tucker
started rummaging through the piles of papers on his coffee table.
“Now, finding it is a whole different story.”
Trying not to fidget too much, I wandered over to the desk
to make myself useful. However, the paper situation was just as bad
there, and it was clear that there were no DVD cases in the big white
mess.
“I guess it must be in my room.” He brushed past me to the
closed door I’d been eyeballing when we first walked in. Since he
didn’t close it behind him, I buckled under the weight of all that
curiosity. I padded slowly over to stand in the doorway, peering in
to see what Tucker Hamilton’s bedroom looked like.
I expected to see clothes all over the place and empty pizza
boxes and random objects covering the floor. At least, that was what
I had seen with all the other guys I’d dated. Maybe it was because
he was older, or maybe it was because he was Tucker, but his room
was in almost perfect condition. He had two massive bookshelves
on either side of his queen-sized bed, which were jam-packed with
paperbacks and hard covers. Their scent lingered in the room,
mixing in with the distinctive smell of boy. Across the room was a
dresser, which was where he picked up the movie in question.
When he turned around, I could tell he hadn’t expected me
to follow him. His eyes got a little wider and he started tapping the
case against his other hand. “Oh. Yeah, welcome to my fortress.”
Despite the way my knees suddenly felt wobbly now that I
was in his bedroom, I wandered further in. My hand reached out to
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touch the soft black comforter that covered the bed. “It’s nice.
Totally was expecting more of a Beauty and the Beast-type library,
though.” I glanced over my shoulder at him and grinned.
He leaned against his dresser, still clutching the DVD.
“Sorry to disappoint. I’ll be sure to have my library up to your
standards next time.” A smile hovered on his perfect lips as well.
I turned to face him and perched lightly on the edge of the
bed. It was soft and totally comfy, and an image of laying there with
him flashed through my mind. Instantly a blush raged on the surface
of my skin, and I looked down at the floor so my hair would fall
around my face and hopefully camouflage the color. “Are you a
sleeps-on-the-couch kind of guy? Or do you actually stay in here?”
“I sleep in here,” he answered. When I dared to peer up at
him, I saw that he, too, was looking down at the floor.
Was I being too forward by making my way into his space
like this? I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I mean, I knew
he had no problem being close to me. We’d done our share of
making out in the car and what have you. But maybe I was taking it
a little too far.
My fingers found a spare thread in the comforter and began
twisting it around. My brain fumbled for a way to desexualize me
sitting on his bed. A little awkwardly, I asked, “What do you dream
about, Tucker?”
The flush that had flooded my skin wasn’t clearing up. Its
heat radiated beneath my skin, causing my heart rate to spike
dramatically. The pounding echoed in my ears, the only sound in the
entire room. I couldn’t even hear either of us breathing. Oh, whoops.
I’d been holding my breath.
Tucker’s eyes slowly rose from their fixation on the floor
until his gaze clasped mine. Those unfathomably spectacular dark
eyes were full of more emotions than I could match names to. I
wanted to hit the pause button and hold that glorious moment there
forever.
Until he decided to make it better.
“If you want to, I could show you.” Slowly, he peeled
himself away from the dresser. His steps were slow, but fluid, like
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his body was moving on its own but his mind was unsure. The room
was so small that he made it to the bed in only a few strides, but it
felt like it took him an hour to make the journey.
He bent his head at the same time that I tipped my chin up
and our lips connected softly. His hands came to rest on either side
of me, and I was dimly aware of him subtly pushing me down and
backward. The burning under my skin flared intensely and every
single molecule in my body took off spinning.
I started to crawl backwards with my elbows until I was
resting on my back, and Tucker followed me, climbing onto the bed
on his hands and knees. The mattress creaked under the shifting
weight. With our bodies so close, I could feel an identical heat
radiating from his.
Then his lips pulled away from mine and he caught my gaze
again. This time, right on the surface of his expression, I could
plainly read his uncertainty. “Chelsea ... are you sure this is okay?”
To my credit, I actually did stop to think about it for a
moment. I brushed my hair away from my face and exhaled a whole
lot of the rising passion to clear my head. Obviously, my body was
completely okay with the situation. But I knew that wasn’t what he
was asking.
Clumsily, I sorted through the facts in my lust-riddled brain.
None of the blood was really focused there anymore. I had known
Tucker for a few months now, and he had only ever been trustworthy
and kind. My heart was kicking for him just as much as the rest of
my body was. I felt completely safe and confident that this was a
good idea. In fact, it was a fantastic idea.
I reached up and laid my hand against his cheek. His skin
was so warm. It sent a whole new impulse spiraling through my arm
and down the rest of my body. “I’m sure. Show me what you dream
about.” I had absolutely no idea what part of my feverish brain the
smooth line had come from, but the words were already out and
gone. I leaned up to kiss him again.
Satisfied by my reassurance, Tucker fell right back into the
kiss. One of his hands slid down along my neck, sending those tiny,
delicious sparks scattering out everywhere his fingertips brushed.
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They roved gently down my arm, hesitated for a moment, and then
came to rest against my hip.
My own fingers quickly located the bottom of his t-shirt. I
finally allowed my hand to dip beneath it and touch his skin. He got
the idea and broke away from my mouth just long enough to reach
over his shoulder and tug the shirt over his head. My breath snagged
on something in my throat as I gazed at his body for a moment. He
was perfect. Fair skin, skinny arms, and everything. His obsidian
necklace hung suspended in the air between us.
I was nearly twisting right out of my skin. I reached up and
pulled him down against me. We rolled over so that I was on top,
and then again so he was, our lips meshed together. Somewhere in
the kissing and touching, my tank top and shorts wound up on the
floor. He had to reach over the side of the bed once his pants were
off to retrieve a condom from his wallet at some point. It was warm
in the room, but one or both of us — I wasn’t quite sure who —
pulled back the covers and then we were beneath them.
Finally, Tucker was above me again, with his hands pressing
into the mattress on either side of me. There was something
incredible that I had no words to describe glowing in his eyes as we
gazed at each other. The rest of the world around us had gone dark.
My entire body, my whole being, was aware of only him. Every last
nerve, each tiny atom, they were all quivering with anticipation.
At first, I couldn’t help but stiffen, but he was so gentle that
my body relaxed almost immediately. I wrapped my arms around
his shoulders, and he lowered his head so it was beside mine and
placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Are you okay?” he whispered. His
breath was hot as it danced across my neck.
I nodded, not wanting to speak and shatter the beautiful
moment. Words were cumbersome and pointless beneath the covers.
Now was the time to show him just how okay I was, not to tell him.
Slowly, Tucker began to move, his hips rocking smoothly
against mine. My brain had totally shut down and my body knew
what to do. I fell into the rhythm that he conducted. We were
connected in the most intimate way that two people could; there was
no way I could ever let him any closer to me than this.
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Boy, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
105

Part Two
106

Chapter Ten
“You are absolutely beautiful.” Tucker’s lips brushed
against my shoulder.
I rolled over, the squeal of the mattress disturbing the
wonderful stillness of his bedroom. “You’re too much.” I dipped my
head to catch his lips before he brought his head back to rest on the
pillow beside me.
When I let him go again, he didn’t lay down. I could make
out half of his face in the faint glow from the streetlight streaming
through the window. He was just gazing at me. I didn’t need to see
his eyes to envision the expression painted inside of them.
“Tucker, be careful. If you keep on staring like that, I might
start to suspect you’re possessed.”
He let out a soft chuckle and finally dropped his head down.
“You know, that’s not really funny.”
“You’re right. It’s completely terrifying,” I agreed.
One of his big hands came out of nowhere and smushed
against my face. “You’re completely terrifying.”
I wriggled out from beneath him and squished my body up
against his. A shiver rocketed through my veins, a thrilling result of
the skin-to-skin contact. Mmm. If I hadn’t already jumped him when
we’d gotten back to his place, I’d have jumped him right there.
His arms came to rest around me, and I softened into his
embrace. My stock of endless corny jokes melted away as that
wonderful warm sensation spread outwards from my heart all the
way down to my toes. “I love you,” I murmured into his chest. He
smelled like the soap from the shower he’d just taken.
He hooked his arms under mine and pulled me up so he could
kiss me again. A flock of doves took flight in my stomach. Their
feathers tickled my insides as our lips locked together and time
slowed down around us once again. When he was satisfied, he pulled
back just enough to whisper against my mouth, “I love you.”
I laid my head down on his chest. “Thank you for dinner
tonight.” My fingers traced a circle on his smooth skin.
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He placed one more kiss in my hair. “It was my pleasure.
Happy eight months.”
“Okay, refresh my memory on this particular house,” I
requested as I cut the wheel to make a sharp right turn.
In the passenger seat, Susannah opened up the manila folder
with her expertly manicured hands. “This one is ...” she paused
dramatically as she scanned the page for the information she needed.
“The Johansson family. Both parents, still married, and one son.
This is the one where the boy claims that something talks to him
when he’s alone. The parents have never seen anything weird
happen, but the kid is so freaked out they finally agreed to call us.”
“Oh, right. The possible schizophrenia case.” My head
bobbed as I recalled Daisy’s email about it when she asked if I would
be available for the preliminary visit. We had the forms the family
had already filled out on Susannah’s lap, but it was important to go
and talk to them and find out what we were dealing with for
ourselves.
She giggled and closed the folder again. “Chelsea. You need
to keep an open mind. You’re a ghost hunter now. You can’t go
around prescribing Adderall to our clients.”
“I wasn’t thinking Adderall. Maybe military school.” I
glanced her way and flashed a winning grin.
Minutes later, I pulled the Honda up alongside a very pale
yellow bi-level house with brown shutters. It looked normal enough
from the outside, but then, they always did. There were never any
transparent people out front mowing “666” into the lawn. That
would have made our job way too easy. Actually, if I saw a spirit
with a lawnmower, I’d probably slam on the gas rather than the
brakes.
Susannah pulled up the fur-lined hood of her poofy white
jacket and reached for the door handle. “Here goes nothing.”
I followed her lead and burrowed far inside the hood of my
own much less stylish winter coat. The material made a swooshing
sound as the sleeves brushed against my shoulders. As soon as I
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swung my legs out of the car, the frigid air attacked them, and a
fierce chill rushed up my body. “Brrr.”
We made our way up the driveway and along the little path
that had been shoveled in the snow up to the front steps. Taking care
to check for ice first, I grabbed the railing and hopped up to the door.
The man who pulled open the heavy interior door was thin,
balding, and wearing some wicked 70s-style glasses. He didn’t
smile as he peered out the glass pane on the outer door. “Can I help
you?”
I glanced over my shoulder at my partner, whose eyebrows
were raised. Usually the clients were expecting us. “Er, yes, Mr.
Johansson? I’m Chelsea Keller from Lark Hollow Paranormal
Research. This is Susannah Reid. We’re here for the preliminary
visit? You spoke with Daisy?” My sentences began to curve up into
question marks at the end as my confidence faltered.
Still his face didn’t register any recognition — or any
emotion at all, really — but he reached out to push open the door for
us. “Oh. Okay. Come in.” We stepped onto a little brown-carpeted
landing with two sets of stairs, one leading up and the other diving
down. The house smelled softly like something pleasantly spicy and
sweet, almost like the Chai teas I always grabbed from Joe Bean’s.
Mr. Johansson was already disappearing up the set of stairs to the
left.
I stepped a little closer to Susannah as I shrugged off my
hood. “Weird.”
“Do you think we should follow him?” she whispered.
Her question was answered momentarily in the form of a boy
about Gunner’s age appearing at the top of the stairs. His face was
drawn and pale. Now that was the sort of look I had grown to expect
on a client. Maybe Daddy just hadn’t had much to do with contacting
the paranormal investigators.
“Hi,” he said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure what to do now
that we were there.
“Hi, sweetie,” Susannah greeted him warmly with a vibrant
smile. “I’m Susannah, and this is Chelsea. You must be Timmy. Is
there somewhere we can sit down together so we can talk?”
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Now that she had his attention, Timmy was staring at her like
she was something that had walked right out of one of the Playboys
he’d hidden under his bed. Did ten-year-olds even read Playboys?
Oh, God, that meant that Gunner ... Ew. Stop, brain. That is quite
enough of that kind of talk.
Luckily, he recovered from his awe long enough to lead us
up the stairs and into a quaint little dining room. We sat down on the
cold wooden chairs and Susannah slid the folder over to me. I pulled
my pen out of my pocket and opened up to the first page.
Once I was situated, I glanced up at Timmy. “Are your
parents going to sit with us, too?”
He cupped one hand around his mouth and yelled, “MOM!”
I winced and stuck my pinky in my ear. Ah, yes, he was
definitely my brother’s age.
Shortly after the unnecessary yell, a woman with a short
black mom-do appeared in the doorway. Unlike her husband, she at
least offered us a smile, even if it looked a little forced. When she
came to sit down beside her son, I recognized concern and some
hopefulness in the creases framing her eyes. She didn’t know what
was wrong with her son. She was willing to consider that it really
was something paranormal so she didn’t have to face the facts that
her kid might have been wired a little differently. Gotta love parents.
“Hi, Mrs. Johansson.” Susannah introduced us again and we
both shook her hand. “We’re just going to ask you some more
questions. Some of them might be repeats from what you’ve already
filled out, but that’s just in case you’ve thought of anything to add
in the few weeks since you submitted the investigation request
form.” She was beaming at the woman. What I’d give for people
skills like that. Or even just a rack like that.
“Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Johansson said. Her lips were
tight.
“So, it says here that all three of you are Catholic?” I asked.
“Yes. Why do you need to know that?” she responded.
Susannah came to the rescue with her sunshiny smile. “It’s
really mostly so that we can be respectful of your beliefs. Also so
that we can understand what kind of practices you have in the
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household. Someone who is Wiccan would have different objects
and celebrations in the house than someone who is Jewish.”
I couldn’t help but shoot her a little grin. Way to lay on the
charm. Then, before Mrs. Johansson became even less patient with
us, I continued, “How long have you lived here?”
“About six years,” she replied.
Timmy was kicking the underside of the table rhythmically,
so my pen skewed to the side as I was writing the “y.” Note to self:
Don’t have kids.
“And how old is the house?” my partner asked.
“Maybe ten years, if that. It was very new when we bought
it.”
We reviewed that the previous owners had been an elderly
couple who had sold it when they had to move into a nursing home.
Both of them were still alive, so it was unknown if anyone had ever
passed away on the premises. No physical changes of any kind had
been made on the house since they had moved out.
“Now, what makes you suspect that there is paranormal
activity going on?” I pointedly looked at Timmy with this question.
He looked up. His blue eyes were the size of the tires on my
car. “There’s a demon in my closet.”
My heart froze mid-beat. That word had definitely not been
in the report. If I’d seen the d-word, I would have automatically said
no to even the preliminary visit. Desperate to retain a professional
attitude, I struggled for words. “I-I’m sorry? What makes you think
that?”
“I just know. At first I didn’t. He pretends to be nice. But
he’s not.” The boy was looking down at his knees.
Susannah and I exchanged glances and she reached across
the table to rest her hand on his. “Sweetie, tell us what happened.
Tell us how you know that.”
Mrs. Johansson’s face was the color of the paper under my
pen, and I imagined mine didn’t look much different. Instantly, my
nerves were on overdrive. Why would Daisy have sent me to this
case? She knew that I wanted no part of anything evil.
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“He lives in my closet. He doesn’t come out when anyone
else is around. Mostly at night, when I’m trying to sleep. He
whispers things to me.” Timmy rested his elbow on the table and
pressed his forehead against his palm.
“What does he say?” Susannah pressed gently.
“He says my name. He asks me to play with him. But one
time I tried and he shut the closet door behind me and growled a lot.
I got really scared, but finally he let me open the door again.” Tears
were actually starting to glaze his eyes. This kid wasn’t kidding.
Either there really was something in his closet, or he was in need of
some serious help.
“We’ve never noticed anything strange,” his mother added.
“His father and I have never heard any voices, in his room or
anywhere else.”
“He doesn’t talk when you’re there.” Timmy glared at her
through eyes with water just barely held back from spilling out onto
his cheeks.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked, glancing from
one to the other.
“He started telling us about it maybe three months ago,” Mrs.
Johansson said. “We didn’t think much of it. Maybe a boy’s
imagination, you know? But he seems so frightened ...”
“But it’s been happening for longer. Almost a year. At first
I thought it was cool.” His chin dropped onto his chest like he was
ashamed of himself. “But then when I realized he wasn’t nice, I tried
to pretend he wasn’t there. And it didn’t work.”
My lips pressed together tightly as my brain started to smoke
from overworking. I was struggling to keep the fear down and think
logically. Just because the little boy said that it was a demon didn’t
mean it was. It could just be a really nasty spirit. Or it could be, as
his parents seemed to believe, all in his head.
Susannah leaned forward and brushed her long, bleach-fried
hair behind her ear. “I need you to think really hard, Timmy. Was
there anything big that happened in your family or in your house
right around the time that this guy started talking to you?”
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He blinked furiously to keep his tears from spilling out.
“No.”
The wooden chair creaked as she sat back against it and
glanced at me. I knew what she was thinking: would he have
answered differently if mother wasn’t in the room? There were also
questions that we needed to ask Mother Dearest that weren’t
appropriate in front of her child.
Time to split them up.
“Timmy, does this activity happen in any rooms besides
yours?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I can be anywhere. He lives in the closet
but he’ll follow me upstairs sometimes. He gets bored down there.”
“But it’s mostly in your room?”
Another nod.
“Do you think you could show me your room?” Susannah
posed the question that one hundred percent of the straight male
population wanted to hear from her.
Without a word, he pushed back his chair and started over to
the stairs. Susannah followed after and touched my shoulder on her
way past me. Good luck.
“Mrs. Johansson, could you give me the tour of the rest of
the house?” I asked as their footsteps thudded lightly against the
carpeted stairs. “And do you mind if I take pictures?” I reached into
my back pocket and pulled out the little digital camera that was
resting there.
“Oh, sure.” She rose and gestured around us. “Obviously,
this is the kitchen and dining area. To our left is the living room.”
As I tailed her down the hallway, I clutched my open folder
and tried hard to emphasize the fact that I was just reading the
questions off of a sheet. These were the ones that made people puff
up and hiss at us. “I have to ask you again if you or your husband
are heavy drinkers or do any kind of illegal drugs. I promise you that
your answers are absolutely confidential.”
She frowned over her shoulder as she paused in a doorway.
“No, I can assure you that our answers on the sheet were accurate.
We barely even keep alcohol in the house, and nobody is on drugs.”
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“What about Timmy? Has he seen a psychologist or been
prescribed medication since you submitted the form?”
Mrs. Johansson shook her head. “No. We wanted to see you
first before going to that extreme.”
“Do any of you suffer from any illnesses?” I asked.
“Okay, look. Chelsea, is it? My family is perfectly normal.
Until Timmy started experiencing this — this demon, or whatever
— we had no problems whatsoever. I would appreciate it if you
would take me at my word.” The blue eyes she had passed to her
son were a mixture of anger and pain.
In her mind, seeing a psychologist was more extreme than
calling in a team of ghost hunters. This woman was really desperate
to have something haunting her son that wasn’t just in his mind. I
wondered if this could have had something to do with why it was
hanging around, assuming that there was actually an entity. With the
woman being this insistent, she might have filled out the application
with a little embellishment on the paranormal claims.
I lowered the folder. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johansson, but normal
is relative. This is just standard procedure. I don’t mean any
offense.”
She sucked in a big breath and shook her head. “Right.
Thank you. Anyway, this is our bedroom. Hi, Paul.”
I leaned inside the doorway to see Mr. Johansson sitting on
a vast four-poster bed that looked out of place in the small room.
There was a cross hanging over the headboard, which made another
question pop into my head.
“Have you ever had your house blessed?”
Mrs. Johansson raised an eyebrow. “As in, an exorcism?”
The word immediately gave my heart a jolt. “No. Nothing
like that. You can call the priest at your local parish to come and
bless your house with holy water and prayer. If there’s negative
energy hanging around for some reason, it could help to clear it.”
“No, we didn’t know that we could do that. Maybe we
should.” She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
“It’s something to consider.” I raised my camera and
snapped a photo.
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Mr. Johansson didn’t even look up from his magazine.
After we finished the tour of the upstairs, we descended to
the lower level, where we found Susannah and Timmy still in his
room. She had her EMF meter out and was scanning the corner by
the closet.
“What is that?” asked Mrs. Johansson.
As my partner explained what the device was for, I surveyed
the bedroom. It was much larger than his parents’; the kid had half
the downstairs to himself. There were sliding glass doors in the back
that led out to a patio and a huge, snow-covered yard. His double
bed was in one corner, pushed against the wall farthest away from
the closet.
Being in the room was making me uncomfortable, but I tried
to shrug off the feeling. It had to be all in my head. Timmy
mentioning a demon had definitely wigged me out. That didn’t mean
that there was actually anything here.
I squared my shoulders and practically marched up to the
sliding wooden doors of the closet. It would definitely take a lot of
effort for an entity to hold one of those shut and keep a ten-year-old
boy trapped inside. There were no knobs or handles; that entire door
would have had to be held against the frame.
With a deep breath, I tried to keep my heartbeat steady as I
slid my fingers into the tiny gap between the door and its frame and
pushed it open. The inside wasn’t all that intimidating; it was fairly
small and looked like any normal closet. The floor was littered with
toys, shoes, and clothes that had fallen off their hangers. Maybe
some of those could have gotten stuck and made it impossible for
Timmy to open the door again once he was inside. But why would
it have closed behind him in the first place?
I took a picture for good measure and then turned around to
get a few of the room itself. As I lowered the camera, I noticed
Timmy staring at me. “You okay?” I asked.
His lower lip was trembling. “Will you please help me? Will
you make him go away?”
Instantly, an image of Gunner in the same situation popped
into my head. The poor little guy was totally terrified. If my brother
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was in the same situation, I’d have done anything to protect him. My
heart literally tried to jump out of my chest and wrap him in a big
hug. All my fear was washed away by this warm, brave, protective
sensation.
“Don’t worry, Timmy. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Whether there’s a spirit or you’re in need of medication.
Susannah finished up recording any unnaturally high EMF
readings in the house so whoever investigated could be aware of
where to expect spikes. Then the four of us reconvened at the kitchen
table.
I reached inside my folder and pulled out two slips of paper.
“We just need you to sign this release form now, please. One copy
is for you to keep and the other is for us. It just says that we aren’t
responsible for any kind of spike in activity during or following the
investigation, or any damages that occur because of it.”
“Thank you for your time,” Mrs. Johansson said, although
her sincerity was questionable. She took the pen I offered her and
scribbled a signature on the paper. “When can we expect you to be
back to actually, um, ghost hunt?”
“Well, we need to assign someone to your case and they’ll
call you to set up a date that’ll work for you,” I explained.
Her thin eyebrows instantly turned downward. “You mean
you two aren’t going to be here?”
“Probably not.” Susannah’s tone was ten kinds of apologetic.
“Since we’ve already met with you, we might have biased emotions
or thoughts. We try to avoid having the preliminary investigators be
here for the actual investigation. We promise that whoever comes
will be just as understanding and professional as we have been.”
Though she didn’t seem thrilled, Mrs. Johansson was
apparently satisfied by the calming tone. I swear, if Susannah talked
to a lion like that, she’d have it purring on its back begging for a
tummy rub in seconds.
Once the form was securely tucked into the folder along with
the EMF readings, we stood up and pulled our coats back on.
The Johanssons walked us down to the landing where we’d
first walked in. I bent down so I could be eye level with Timmy,
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who was twisting the bottom of his shirt with both hands. “Listen, I
promise you that you have nothing to be scared of. We’ll make sure
you’re safe. Mr. and Mrs. Johansson, you did the right thing by
calling us.”
He didn’t look up at me, but he nodded.
With that, we donned our hoods again and opened the door
to face the nasty winter air.
Once we were in the car, I spun a dial on the dashboard to
turn the heat up as high as I could. Then I plopped the folder into
Susannah’s lap and raised my eyebrows at her. “Well.”
“Dude. The husband? Complete creeper.” She ran her
fingers through her hair to fix it after having been under the hood
for thirty seconds.
“Even the mom. The woman is absolutely convinced that
there can be nothing wrong psychologically with her son.” I rubbed
my hands together and held them in front of the vent, letting the hot
air rush over my skin.
Susannah bobbed her head. “Oh, totally. She doesn’t
understand how this works at all.”
“Did you get any weird EMF spikes while you were down in
Timmy’s room?” I asked.
“Nope. A few natural hotspots from some wires here and
there, but nothing strange. I have to admit, I didn’t get any
paranormal feelings anywhere in the house. And I swear I am not
just saying that because I want that woman to get over herself.”
I gazed past her at the quaint bi-level. “I was a little psyched
out by the demon thing. So I can’t tell if I had any concrete feelings
of ‘holy shit there’s a ghost in here’ or if it was all in my head.”
A tinkly laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Please, girl. You
did fine. Most people, especially the religious families,
automatically think a ghost is evil. But we don’t even know if
something was there.”
She had a point. When people interacted with something
they couldn’t see, their fear did have a tendency to convince them
that it was evil. Case in point: pre-Tucker moi. “Did you get
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anything else out of him when he was away from his mom?” I
shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb.
“Nope.” She let her head roll back against the seat. “He just
kept saying how the thing talks to him and wants him to play. But
it’s so strange that, if there’s an entity there, wouldn’t affect either
of the parents, unless they’re just absolutely oblivious — which they
do seem to be. I don’t mean to write off his claims, but honestly, I’m
not sure this is anything paranormal.”
I nodded as her words sank comfortingly into my ears. Her
logic made sense, but I wasn’t about to make any kind of judgments.
I’d leave that up to the team that actually went into the house.
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Chapter Eleven
“Are you positive it’s okay for me to be doing this?”
Tucker shot me a glance from the driver’s seat, not even
trying to mask the grin. “Chelsea, Daisy wouldn’t have asked you
herself if it wasn’t okay. We try to avoid this, but sometimes it has
to happen.”
I stared out the window at the pale yellow bi-level with
brown shutters. The snow around the driveway had started to turn
brown in the weeks since I’d visited it last. My initial uneasiness
was creeping up my throat again, trying to choke me and trip me up.
“Stupid Jamie. How dare he get the flu tonight, of all nights?”
“So selfish,” Tucker agreed.
It wasn’t that I was scared to do the case. Well, okay, I was
definitely nervous. This was exactly the reason that the preliminary
investigators didn’t come to the actual showdown. I was unnerved
by the absolute terror that had been woven in Timmy’s words. No
one else here tonight had experienced that.
Although everyone who had reviewed the file we’d started
felt that there was no demon in the closet. In fact, most of them
seemed to be leaning towards it all being in his head. But LHPR’s
mission statement of open-mindedness and willingness to assist
forced them all to consider the fact that it could be a particularly
cranky spirit.
If they’d actually thought the activity was in any way
demonic or evil, Daisy wouldn’t have asked me to go. That was what
I kept telling myself on the drive up. Yeah, maybe something didn’t
sit right with me, but it was just because my emotions were biased
after the preliminary round. That was all. That had to be all.
“Hey.” My boyfriend’s hand on my shoulder jerked me out
of the black hole that was my brain. “You okay?”
I turned to face him and my heart gave a pleasant little
shudder. God, he was so damn gorgeous. And those perfect brown
eyes were so full of genuine concern and affection. Immediately
distracted from my reservations about the case, I nodded. “Yeah.
I’m okay. Just getting lost in that scary place in my head.”
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“Hmm. Let me help you find your way back.” He leaned
forward and pressed his lips to mine. The fire-like sensation flooded
down my throat and to my limbs like a shot of Jäger.
The kiss only lasted a second before he pulled back and
rested his palm against my cheek. A little smile hovered on those
lips that fueled me. “Come on. You’re going to be fine. You always
are.”
I took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. My
sneakers crunched on the hardened snow as I walked around to the
backseat to grab my equipment case.
Ethan was the first to get out of the backseat of the blue
Fiesta that parked behind us. His long blond hair was tucked back
behind his ears. “Hey,” he greeted us.
Within moments, Adrian and Richard had also emerged onto
the street. When I saw the director, I said to Tucker, “You’re not the
team leader tonight?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight. Richard’s in charge. You
and I can partner up again.”
Since I had become an actual investigator with Lark Hollow
Paranormal, I couldn’t just tag along and trail him around anymore.
Whenever he was the team leader, I had to partner with someone
else. I mean, I’d gotten used to it, but of course I preferred to work
with him. He was the one who had taught me how to do all this in
the first place. Naturally, I regarded him as the foremost expert in
ghost hunting.
The five of us convened on the sidewalk for the preinvestigation
grounding and prayer session. No one spoke out loud
this time; each of these team members preferred to work in their
heads. I closed my eyes and focused on the cement beneath my feet.
I envisioned the suit of armor — newly coated with a fresh white
light to repel negativity — covering my body. My fears began to
subside as I made sure I was energetically protected. Even if this
was a grouchy spirit, I would be okay. We’d dealt with some notso-nice
ones before.
After a few moments, Richard asked, “Okay, who’s cold?”
With a chorus of laughs we all headed for the front door.
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Mr. Johansson opened the door. I was expecting a cold
demeanor again, but tonight, he gave us a big smile. “Welcome.
Come right inside.”
As I passed him, he raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been frowning in his direction.
Immediately I wiped the expression off my face. “Oh, yeah, I’m
okay. Sorry.” Just a little wigged out by your complete personality
180. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember me at all.
Richard led the way up the stairs to the table where we’d sat
down to interview the Mrs. and Timmy. He set down his case, and
the rest of us followed suit.
Before unloading, he turned to Mr. Johansson. “Would you
mind giving us a tour of the house?”
“Of course, of course.” The man seemed completely happy
to oblige the team leader’s request. He motioned for us to follow
him and started off down the hall. “I’m the only one home tonight.
Mrs. Johansson took Timmy out. She didn’t want him getting
scared.”
God, someone was awfully bubbly and talkative tonight.
Even though I had already seen what the interior looked like, I
brought up the rear of the tour for good measure. I wanted to keep
an eye on the sketchy Mr. Johansson, and the best way to do that
was to stick close to him. And blend in with the rest of the group, of
course.
Once the rest of my teammates had a chance to visit every
room in the house, we returned to base camp to gear up. I’d been
sure to wear my cargo pants again, so I loaded the pockets with my
flashlight, my digital camera (now with infrared capabilities), my
voice recorder, my EMF meter, and my brand-new infrared noncontact
thermometer (a Christmas present from the boyfriend —
how romantic, right?).
It didn’t take everyone long to situate the cameras and
motion sensors where they wanted to. They didn’t know any of the
specific claims, so they were going completely off of intuition. I kept
my mouth shut so that I wouldn’t affect their focus, but I did
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volunteer to set up one of the video cameras in Timmy’s room when
no one else suggested it.
As soon as everyone was satisfied with the placement of the
machinery, Ethan asked if he and Adrian could take the upstairs first.
“Something’s definitely pulling me into that master bedroom,” he
remarked with a glance down the hall.
“That’s fine with me,” Tucker consented. When he looked
to me, I just nodded. Timmy’s bedroom room hadn’t seemed any
scarier this time than it had last time, even when I was down there
by myself. Then again, the lights were still on.
“If everyone is ready, let’s go lights out,” Richard directed.
“Mr. Johansson, if you would, please come with me.” He led him to
the couch in the living room beside the kitchen/dining area so he
could explain what he needed him to do.
Tucker and I traipsed over to the stairs once again. With each
step down, the equipment in my pockets jostled against my legs. His
hand hit the wall switch on the landing, sending the light on the
staircase shooting away from us.
“Do you want to go to the den or Timmy’s room first?” he
asked as we came to the downstairs hallway.
“You tell me,” I advised. “You’re the unbiased one,
remember?”
He laughed. “Oh, right. Okay, let’s go to the den since you
already set up a camera in the bedroom.” This time he had to reach
up to pull the chord on the hall light, and once it clicked, darkness
rushed up to greet us once again.
I clicked on my flashlight and the red glow bathed the wall
opposite us as I led the way into the den. The beam picked up the
old brown leather couch facing the big-screen plasma TV on the wall
first, so I plopped myself down on it. Then I pulled out my digital
recorder and pressed the “record” button.
“This is Tucker and Chelsea. First sweep, in the den.” I let
my flashlight rove around, observing the photos hanging on the wall.
There was Timmy with a little white dog. Mr. Johansson holding a
massive fish up on the line with which he’d caught it. They were all
smiles. Nothing like they had seemed during the preliminary visit.
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That uneasy feeling was creeping into the crevices of my
mind again, but I tried to brush it off again.
“If anyone’s in here with us, then hello,” Tucker greeted the
alleged spirit. “I’m Tucker. This is Chelsea. Can you tell us your
name?”
One of the challenges of partnering with him now was the
fact that it was way hard to keep my emotions in check. When my
red beam roved over his face, my heart gave that pleasant little heavy
beat against my ribs. Immediately I took a deep breath to steady
myself. Bad, Chelsea.
Gradually, my uncomfortable feeling subsided with each
question that we asked. The voice that Timmy heard didn’t come
snaking from the black corners of the room. We didn’t get any kind
of answer at all.
Eventually, Tucker turned to me. “You want to head into the
bedroom? We’re getting nowhere in here.”
We picked up our equipment and switched to the other room
down the hall. This time I didn’t sit down. I felt on edge again; I just
couldn’t shake the idea that something didn’t seem right about the
whole situation.
Tucker didn’t seem to pick up on the same feeling, though,
so I tried again to convince myself that it was all in my head. The
rest of the group members were way more sensitive than I was. If
they weren’t feeling like something was off in the house, then it had
to be just because I had been to the preliminary visit.
He took out his own voice recorder and placed it on the floor
beside the camera. Then he produced his cell sensor and started to
scan the room with it, giving the introduction as he went. “You
might have heard us in the next room, but I’d like to say hello again.
I’m Tucker, and this is Chelsea. We’d like to ask you some
questions.”
Silence roared in my ears, adding to the general wanting-torun
sensation that was nipping at my heels. No matter how I tried to
argue the emotion with logic, it was not going away. I turned so my
back was against the wall and I could clearly see the rest of the room,
as long as I had the flashlight on.
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“Is there anyone in here with us?” Tucker asked. After a
second’s pause, he added, “We hear that you like to talk to the little
boy who lives here.”
A clicking noise rose from the corner that made my heart
jump into my throat, but when it continued, I realized it was just the
radiator. It was winter; obviously people were going to have their
heat on. I exhaled heavily.
“He’s scared of you. We’re not scared. We just want to talk
to you. We want to find out who you are.” He walked over towards
the closet.
Suddenly, at the exact time that the noise from the radiator
died down, another sound rose to meet our ears. It was so faint I
wasn’t sure if I was hearing it at first, but then it gradually got
louder. My blood froze solid in my veins as I recognized what it
was: laughter. Whoever we were talking to thought what Tucker had
just said was pretty hilarious.
His head whipped around to look at me, and in the glow of
the red flashlight, I saw his eyes were the size of clementines. Then
the dark brows furrowed in concentration and he turned around
again, searching for the source of the laughter. “Why was that funny
to you?” he asked, keeping his tone even and making sure not to
challenge the entity and provoke it to any further action.
For an answer, the laughter stopped. The silence crept up on
us again, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. There
was always the chance that the laughter had been residual, that there
was no actual spirit there, but then why had it started and stopped at
such opportune moments? I had to assume that we weren’t alone.
And if that was the case, then why was it interacting with us when
it had never showed its presence to the adult Johanssons?
My heart was going haywire. “Tucker…” I said softly.
The instant the word was out of my mouth, the closet door
slid open so fast that it knocked violently against the doorframe.
Tucker’s body flinched in surprise, and he immediately pulled out
his camera and started snapping pictures. He leaned his head inside
the closet to take a few more, and as soon as he straightened up
again, the door slammed shut once more.
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The bang echoed deafeningly in the silence, and instinctively
I slapped my hands over my ears. This was definitely not residual.
This was an entity that had just nearly succeeded in closing my
boyfriend’s head in the closet door. He might have found this
exciting, but I did not want to tangle with it. I finally realized why
I’d been feeling uneasy all night long. It was the bad feeling that
Tucker had assured me I would recognize. The one that signified
that it just wasn’t a good idea to go to a particular case. And I was
not ashamed at all of the fact that I wanted to get the hell out of there.
Before I could announce that I wanted to go outside, he was
already talking to the spirit again as he backed up. “Did you know
my head was in there? You could have hurt me.” His eyes were still
wide and his whole face was lit up with what I could only describe
as awe.
The walkie-talkie buzzed with static and Richard’s voice
came through. “Is everything okay down there?”
Tucker reached down to pick it up, but as he raised it to his
mouth, a new frown crossed his features. Again, I didn’t get a chance
to speak and ask what was wrong. Before I could, flames sprouted
forth from the radio.
He dropped it instinctively and jumped back. When the
device hit the carpet, instead of extinguishing, the fire grew as it
consumed the entire thing.
I couldn’t move. My blood had turned to concrete in my
veins and I was stuck standing there staring at the walkie-talkie that
had caught fire on its own. I was pretty sure even my heart had
stopped beating.
Then, something in my brain registered that yes, the
impossible had just happened, and that was the final straw. Normal
spirits could not start spontaneous fires. This thing, whatever it was,
had given me reason to believe that Timmy was right about it. Fear
like I had never known wrapped its steely grip around my heart. This
wasn’t just fear of being pushed or scratched. This was fear for our
lives.
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Before Tucker had a chance to keep talking to his new friend,
I shouted, “Tucker! Let’s get out of here!” I didn’t know why I was
shouting. It was still silent except for the crackle of the flames.
He didn’t even look up. His gaze was fixed on that fiery thing
as it writhed on the floor, somehow not spreading to the carpet. He
was absolutely mesmerized.
I didn’t want to go over to the side of the room where there
were slamming doors and random fires, but I didn’t have a choice. I
darted over to him and grabbed hold of his arm. “Tucker! Come on!”
I urged. Adrenaline was surging through me and my heart was
racing to break the sound barrier. We had to go. Now.
When his eyes lifted to mine, the amazement contained
within them shocked me. He wasn’t afraid. He was completely
captivated. “It started a fire, Chelsea. All on its own. Imagine the
power ...”
I ignored his creepy remark and pulled his arm as hard as I
could. Luckily, he started to follow me in the direction of the hall. I
let go of his hand and hurried to the doorway.
When I turned to make sure he was following me, I saw that
he had stopped just a foot away and had turned to stare at the burning
walkie-talkie again. I opened my mouth to call out to him at the same
time that he was knocked right off his feet.
This wasn’t a push like I had experienced at the Masons’
house. This was something barreling right into him and sending him
flying. It was like watching a scene in a movie where someone gets
thrown into a wall. He hit the wood with a dull thud and fell
facedown onto the carpet.
“Tucker!” His name wrenched itself out of my throat as I
bolted over to him. I was distinctly aware that whatever had just
knocked into him could do the same thing to me, but I didn’t care. I
needed to make sure that he was okay.
I fell to my knees at his side, unsure of what to do. Should I
touch him? He could have been seriously hurt by that impact.
Anything I did might make it worse.
Luckily, he moved on his own and looked up at me with a
dazed expression. He didn’t say anything, but the fact that he was
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able to blink and turn his head was enough for me. I grabbed him by
the shoulders and hoisted him to his feet with all the strength I had
in me.
This time, I made sure I kept hold of his hand as I ran from
the room. As our feet pounded up the stairs, we ran into Richard,
Adrian, and Ethan, who were all on their way down.
“What is going on down there?” Richard demanded.
“We have to go. We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” I
breathed as I reached for the door. I didn’t even want my equipment.
I just wanted to be out of that house and as far away from that spirit
as possible.
No one argued with me. “I’ll turn the lights on and pack up
our equipment so we don’t alarm Mr. Johansson,” Richard said.
“He shouldn’t stay here, either.” By this time, I had one foot
on the front steps. “Nobody should. Whatever that thing is, it just
hurt Tucker.” I didn’t even bother to shut the door behind me as I
hurried down the steps, still dragging my dazed boyfriend behind
me.
I didn’t stop until we reached his car. Once there, I
immediately asked, “Are you okay?” I started looking him up and
down, making sure he wasn’t bleeding and his pupils were the same
size and everything.
“I’m okay.” His voice sounded far away.
I glanced over my shoulder at the house. The front door was
still open, but now lights were on inside. Hopefully everyone in
there was hurrying with the packing up.
When I looked back at Tucker, he was staring down at his
arm and wiggling his fingers, probably inspecting it to make sure it
wasn’t hurt. He dropped it down and raised his eyes to look at me.
His expression was still dazed, like he was just waking up.
“Does anything hurt?” I asked. My heart was still
hammering away in my chest, and my concern was split in six
different directions. I needed to make sure that the rest of the team
was okay. I needed to make sure that the family would be okay, and
I needed to make sure that Tucker was okay. He was making me
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nervous with the out-of-it look on his face. “Do you need to go to a
hospital?”
He shook his head slowly. “No.” His voice was stronger
now, which was slightly reassuring. Slightly.
I gave him one more look-over. His skin wasn’t bruised as
far as I could see, and the hand that had been holding the walkietalkie
didn’t look burned. His eyes were beginning to focus more
and his voice had sounded better. The color was still drained from
his face, but he was always pale, so that wasn’t a huge issue.
“Okay.” I finally shifted my focus just as everyone came
striding quickly down the driveway.
“We advised Mr. Johansson that it’s best if he and his family
stayed elsewhere tonight,” Richard informed me. “He’s going to
meet his wife and son at his mother’s house. As for us, we’re going
to go to my house and talk about what just happened.”
“Are you okay to drive?” I asked Tucker.
He blinked dazedly. “Yes.”
I turned away from him and gave Richard a worried look. I
didn’t think it was good for him to try in this condition. Luckily, he
picked up on what I was trying to tell him and said, “I think that
Ethan will drive you and Chelsea back to my place for now, if that’s
okay.”
Tucker just nodded.
If I’d known how to operate a manual, I would have offered
to drive us myself. But as it was, I was grateful to have Ethan there
with us. This way if there was anything seriously wrong with Tucker
it wouldn’t be on my shoulders alone. I had never seen anything like
this happen before. I didn’t know what the appropriate reaction was.
Once the cars were loaded up, I climbed into the backseat of
the car and the guys took the front. As Ethan pulled a K-turn, he
said, “Okay, guys, spill. What the hell happened in there?”
“Did you get the video camera?” I asked. I couldn’t pull my
eyes away from the house. Half of me expected the entire thing to
go up in flames.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re not going to believe this unless you see it.”
128

129

Chapter Twelve
Richard’s house wasn’t far from the Johanssons’. We pulled
into the driveway of the white ranch style home in about ten minutes.
I’d relayed the story to Ethan, who, as expected, had a lot of “What
the hell?” and “No f’ing way!” responses. When we got out of the
car, he immediately started inspecting Tucker just as I had done.
“I’m fine,” Tucker insisted. He was definitely returning to
normal; the glaze in his eyes had disappeared and his voice sounded
the same as it usually did.
Daisy opened the front door as we climbed onto their
wraparound porch. “Hi, guys. I just got back from training.” When
she saw the expressions on our faces, she immediately demanded,
“Is everything okay?”
“We think so,” I answered wearily. Even once the house had
disappeared from view, the images of the walkie-talkie bursting into
flames, the closet door nearly slamming closed on Tucker’s head,
and the invisible force hurling his body against the wall, were still
playing over and over on my brain’s film reel. Add in the sound of
the eerie laughter on loop and there was pretty much a horror movie
going on in my mind.
The couple led us into their family room, which was barely
big enough to hold all of us. Adrian, Ethan, and I sat down on the
white couch, and I pulled Tucker onto it with us. Richard and Daisy
sat down in the matching loveseat.
In a matter of minutes, I had explained everything that
happened in Timmy’s room. As predicted, everyone wanted to see
for themselves, so they plugged the video camera into Richard’s
laptop. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to watch it all happen again, so I
watched Tucker’s reaction to it instead. There was a barely
noticeable smile tugging the very corners of his mouth upward. In
spite of having been thrown into a wall, he was still enjoying this.
Was the evidence of a spirit more important than his own safety?
Once the footage had finished, the silence that fell over us
was worse than anything they could have said. I wasn’t sure I wanted
to know what they were thinking.
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Eventually, Daisy spoke up. “Wow!”
“The only time I have ever seen anything like this happen,”
Richard said, “was during a demonic case. It appears that the little
boy might have been right.”
This time, I was sure that my heart had actually broken one
of my ribs when it slammed against them. Richard, the leader of the
twenty-year-old paranormal group, was saying that this could very
well have been the work of a demon. In fact, it was more likely than
not.
“Normal spirits wouldn’t have the strength to throw a person
like that,” Adrian murmured. Her face was as pale as the snow on
the windowsill.
Ethan covered his face with his hands and his chest expanded
as he took a deep breath. Then he moved his hands down so they
only covered his mouth and he could stare at the screen of the laptop.
The image of Tucker against the wall after being tossed like a doll
was frozen there. Finally, he moved his hands and breathed, “God,
Tucker ...”
Once his name had been mentioned, every set of eyes in the
room turned to the man in question. It took him a second to draw his
own gaze from the laptop screen and focus on the rest of us. “What?”
he asked after a moment.
“Well, first of all, I’m glad you’re all right. Second of all …”
Richard began, but Daisy cut him off.
“Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” she hissed. I’d
never seen her look angry before, but she was positively bristling.
“You could have broken something. Been put in the hospital. In a
coma. You could have been killed.”
“Hey, sweetheart, breathe.” Richard reached up and tenderly
patted her arm. His gentle touch seemed to calm her, and I had the
urge to reach out to Tucker. I kept it to myself, though; this was not
the time for cuddling.
The male director turned back to us. “I’m very disappointed
in the way you handled the situation, Tucker. You know that as soon
as you realize that the laws of physics have been broken, it’s more
than likely a non-human spirit. And you know that with anything
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that isn’t human, the rules change. You should have listened to
Chelsea when she wanted to leave. Instead, you put not only
yourself, but her as well, in danger by hesitating. In fact, the whole
team was in danger, because none of us knew what we were dealing
with or how to properly handle it. I hope that you will take
something away from this and act differently in the future.”
My insides were churning with a mixture of sympathy and
my own disappointment. Richard hadn’t been down there; he hadn’t
seen how incredible the whole thing really was. Scary, yes. No,
scary was an understatement. Scary was when you were home in the
shower alone and you heard a noise and thought Pennywise was
going to come out of the drain. This whole thing had been absolutely
petrifying. But it had also been unlike anything I’d ever witnessed
in my life. Right before my eyes, something had burst into flames
without any cause. It was kind of understandable that he was
distracted by the display and wasn’t thinking clearly.
But at the same time, Tucker was my role model. He was the
one who had taught me how to ghost hunt. He’d shown me that it
wasn’t scary and we were always safe. But now, largely because of
him, we’d both been very much not safe. And that didn’t sit well
with me, either.
He wasn’t saying anything. He was looking back at the
screen again, focused on the motionless image of himself. Was he
regretting it? Did he feel bad? Was he embarrassed to be chewed out
in front of his fellow investigators? I couldn’t read any emotion on
his face; it was totally blank.
After a few moments, Richard broke the hush once again.
“But more than that, I’m glad that everyone made it out of there
okay. Now that I know what we’re dealing with, I can go back in
with the team that’s been trained for dealing with demonic spirits.
We can discuss possible courses of action with the residents. But
we’re safe and they’re safe, and ultimately everything worked out
okay.”
I swallowed loudly. I wasn’t so sure about everything being
okay. Tucker was clearly shaken up by the whole thing, and I hadn’t
even begun to examine my own psychological damage. There
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was a very real possibility that I’d be too scared to go back to ghost
hunting because I’d think that they’d all turn out to be demonic when
they seemed benign enough. But I’d sort through that later.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, Tucker,” Daisy said gently.
“I was just frightened. It was so hard to watch that happen to you.”
“Are we going to show this to the rest of the group?” Ethan
asked. “I feel like they have a right to know.”
“Absolutely,” Richard agreed. “I’ll schedule a meeting so we
can all talk about it sometime this week.”
“Is anyone hungry?” Daisy offered. “I was just about to
throw some food together when you got here.”
Ethan bobbed his head. “Yes, definitely. Thank you.”
The tension had broken. We had just gone through quite an
ordeal, but they were working to bring things back down to normal.
Ethan and Adrian stood up to go help Daisy in the kitchen, leaving
Tucker and me alone with Richard.
The group’s director leaned forward in his chair. “Honestly,
are the two of you all right? I remember the first time I saw
something like this happen. It was ... shocking, to say the least. Do
you have questions?”
“Only a hundred,” I finally burst out. I’d been holding in my
own terror for long enough. “What was that thing? Why did it pick
that family? Why did it do this to us when it didn’t even let the
parents know it was there? And why Tucker when it had to choose
between both of us?”
Richard straightened up again. “I don’t know exactly what it
is yet, but I will let you know as soon as we get more information.
We will certainly go back into the house, but better prepared. I also
can’t tell you why it picked the Johanssons, or why Timmy,
specifically. Perhaps because, as a child, he was more vulnerable
than the guarded adults. Why it chose to attack Tucker ... I also don’t
know. Maybe because he was closer to it and it was more
convenient. Maybe it doesn’t like males. Maybe there was a
weakness it sensed in him.”
Tucker still hadn’t said a word. He was staring at Richard
now, still with no emotions on his face. I wondered if this was the
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kind of traumatic event it was going to take him a while to recover
from, like a car crash or a mugging. Hell, I was traumatized by it,
and the thing hadn’t even touched me. I was dying to know what
was going through his head, what he was feeling, but I couldn’t ask
him yet. Not here.
“You’ll be okay, though, Chelsea. I promise. I know that was
horrifying enough for me to watch. I can’t imagine how you feel,
having had to witness it in person. If you need anything, you can call
Daisy or me anytime, day or night.” Richard offered his best
comforting smile.
I was touched by the concern, but it didn’t take away what
had just happened. All the same I nodded. “Thank you. Do you guys,
um, need some time alone?” Part of me wanted Tucker to finally
talk, and I thought that maybe he would if they were by themselves.
The other part of me just wanted to get out of there and pretend like
nothing had happened in the kitchen with my friends.
“That’s a good idea. Thank you.” He nodded.
I turned to Tucker, wanting to say something before I left.
But my tongue was suddenly clumsy. Any words I could think of
seemed silly and nonsensical in the face of what he’d just gone
through. So I settled for resting my hand on his thigh for a moment
before I got up and headed to the next room.
The others were making some kind of lemony chicken
deliciousness, and I helped by grabbing some plates and setting
them up on the table. The conversation was a little forced and a bit
too light considering the situation, but at least it was a distraction. I
was happy to listen to Adrian talk about the martial arts classes she
was teaching if it meant not thinking about the demon that had
attacked my boyfriend.
Eventually, Richard and Tucker joined us at the table, and
we all tried our best to keep the dark reality at bay during the latenight
dinner. But there was one more thing that was bothering me,
tugging at my consciousness all throughout the meal. While
everyone else was clearing their plates and filing into the kitchen, I
grabbed Richard and pushed him into the next room.
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“I have to ask,” I said, keeping my voice hushed. If Tucker
hadn’t already thought of this, I didn’t want him to overhear.
“What’s the possibility of this demon following one of us home?” I
knew that after every investigation we had to shake off energetically
to make sure we didn’t bring anything back with us. If there was a
possibility that this spirit latched on to someone and piggybacked a
ride, well ...
“It’s possible. But it’s unlikely. Demons are usually bent on
one person. I imagine that, for whatever reason, it wants to destroy
Timmy. Or perhaps destroy his parents through his demise. But if
you protected yourself, and had your guard up, you should be fine.”
Richard laid a giant bear-paw-sized hand on my shoulder.
I fidgeted with the belt loop on my pants. “What about
Tucker? You saw what happened. He let his guard down.”
He looked thoughtful. “Maybe we should smudge him and
his apartment. You know, burn some sage and cedar incense and
cleanse the energy around him. Make sure that everything is positive
around him.”
I nodded. It wasn’t a foolproof option, but I understood what
he was saying. My concern was legitimate and that was all we could
do.
Tucker insisted that he was fine to drive, and this time he
seemed stable enough for me to let him. We said goodbye to
everyone else and trudged through the snow to his car.
He was uncharacteristically quiet for a long time as he drove.
I was busy wracking my brains for something to say to him, so I
wasn’t exactly Chatty Cathy either.
Before I knew it, we’d already pulled into my driveway. It
was my last chance to talk before he left for the night. Finally, I
blurted, “I think you should smudge your apartment.”
He turned to me slowly, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah? What
for?”
“To cleanse any negative energy you might have brought
home.”
His gaze roved away from me again and he stared out into
the darkness around us. Then, after a moment, he turned back to me.
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Instead of answering right away, he leaned in really closely so our
noses were just about touching. I could smell the chicken we’d eaten
on his breath mixed in with his usual Tuckery scent. In spite of the
seriousness of the situation, my heart gave a dramatic ba-dump.
“Don’t you worry about me, gorgeous.” His fingers twirled
into my hair and he turned slightly to look at the red strands he was
toying with. Then just his eyes flicked back to meet mine, and I
couldn’t help myself. I went totally Jell-O.
“I-I can’t help it,” I stammered, trying to stay focused. “You
just got attacked.”
He dropped my hair and slid his palm around the back of my
neck. “And I’m fine. I promise.” Then he pulled back and replaced
one hand on the wheel and the other on the stick shift. He jerked his
chin in the direction of my house. “Go on. It’s late. I’ll talk to you
later.”
My heart was still drumming away in my chest, but I
reluctantly did what he said. If he wanted to get home, that was okay.
He’d had a very long night and I didn’t want to smother him. I
trusted that he would be smart enough to smudge the apartment and
himself now that I’d brought the idea to his attention.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said as I stood outside the car with
one hand on the open door.
He leaned over and flashed me a grin. “Goodnight, Chelsea.
I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I returned. Then I shut the door with a loud
thud and hurried quickly up the driveway.
As soon as I got through the front door, I slid down to a
crouch and buried my face in my hands. How had this happened?
I’d spent months learning that this wasn’t as scary as I’d thought it
was. Then, all in one night, all my training out of my original fear
had unraveled. Investigating the paranormal had turned out to be
way scarier than I had ever imagined. How was I ever going to go
back into another house when I knew that what happened tonight
could happen again? Yeah, everyone else had been surprised and
they hadn’t seen exactly that before, but the possibility was around
now.
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And what about Tucker? Would he be okay? He definitely
hadn’t seemed himself. Even at the end of the night, when he’d been
close to kissing me, he hadn’t. He had pulled away at the last minute.
Understandably, he had to be unnerved by the whole thing. But how
long would it take him to shake it off and get back to normal?
Trouble’s cold nose pressed against my arm and I uncovered
myself so I could scratch him. His mouth opened so his little pink
tongue flopped out. “If you had any idea what just happened tonight
boy.”
“What happened?” The voice startled me so much I fell over
onto my butt on the cold tile. Gunner stepped into view from the
next room.
“What are you doing awake?” I demanded. “It’s like, 3am.”
He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I woke up when you slammed
the door like that. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
My heart warmed a bit with his concern. Normally, I
wouldn’t have burdened my little brother with my problems. But I
was so overwhelmed and so scared, I couldn’t help myself. I stood
up and rushed forward to throw my arms around his neck.
Instantly, all traces of sleepiness vanished from his body as
it sprang to alertness in my arms. “Chelsea? Are you okay?
Seriously. What happened?” He wrapped his own tiny limbs, a little
awkwardly, around my back in return and patted me gently.
For the final time, the story spilled from my lips. I explained
how I’d gone to the preliminary investigation and then been called
last minute to do the actual investigation. I told him about the little
boy’s fear and his father’s transformation and how unnerved I had
been. And finally, I relayed all that had happened to Tucker down
in the bedroom.
By the time I was done, I realized I was still clutching him
tightly. Not wanting to suffocate him as a thank you for having
listened to me, I managed to break my fingers out of their claw-like
hold on his back.
Gunner reached around and rubbed the spot where my hand
had been. His deer-brown eyes were almost engulfed his whole
head. “Holy shit.”
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“Gunner!” I exclaimed. I had never, in his entire life, heard
my brother swear.
“What? I think I’m allowed to curse in this situation!”
“Where did you even learn that word?”
“Chelsea, I’m ten, not three. I don’t live under a rock.” He
stepped around the side of the couch so he could sit down. I followed
suit and once I was beside him, he asked, “So, are you okay?”
All the air left my lungs in a sigh so massive it could have
knocked down the three little pigs’ straw house. “Yeah. I mean, I’m
upset, obviously. But I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt. I’m just concerned
for Tucker and the family.”
“What was their name? The family?” he asked.
“I wish I could tell you, but it’s confidential.” I leaned
forward with my elbow on my knee and propped my head on my
hand. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”
“Was it the Johanssons?”
Immediately I straightened up again. “How do you know
that? Did you go through my email?”
He shook his head. “Timmy Johansson is my friend. He’s
been telling me there was a demon in his closet for months.”
Something sparked in my brain and I did recall him
mentioning it months ago. “Oh.”
Now his eyes looked almost wistful. “I didn’t believe him. I
thought he was just trying to get attention.”
As I gazed at my brother, I clearly saw the weight across his
little shoulders for the first time. When I was his age, my biggest
concern was that Kelly Armstrong kept stealing the cookies out of
my lunch box. But after Mom had left, Gunner had quickly morphed
from a little boy into a young adult. His dad and big sister, the only
role models he had left, were never around anymore because we
were always working. We might have had good intentions, but our
consistent absence forced him to look out for himself more often
than not. He was a fifth-grader who got out of bed at 3am because
he could tell by the sound of the door slamming that his sister might
be upset. And that thoughtful, regretful glaze over his eyes went far
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deeper than I could see. It was so much more than, “I’m sad. Give
me a new cookie and make it better.”
And what was wrong with me? I hadn’t even paid enough
attention to him to remember that the client was a friend of his.
My heart thudded slowly and heavily in my chest, suddenly
weighted down with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Gun.” I reached out and
slipped my arm around his shoulders, pulling him against me again.
“He’ll be okay, though. Richard is still working on it. They’re not
going back into the house until they get the green light from us. His
dad took us seriously tonight.”
“You should tell Richard about the way his dad acted.” He
rested his head against mine. “It sounds like he might have been
possessed.”
I felt my pulse pick up again. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t joke about that. I know this is a big deal.”
I knew now that he understood more than I’d been giving
him credit for. “Okay. I’ll call Richard tomorrow, then.”
Gunner pulled out from under my arm so he could look at
me. “I think Tucker will be okay. He’s still alive. That’s a good
sign.”
Even though I’d been on more ghost hunts than I could count
by that time, I trusted what he said. He knew more about the dark
side of investigating than I had ever wanted to learn. I only was
aware of the basic need-to-know facts, and nothing else. I’d wanted
to avoid it as much as I could.
“And you will be, too.” I turned to face him and my chest
tightened up like I was about to cry. His eyes were so serious, so full
of more emotions than even I could grasp. My little brother was
reassuring me that I would be okay. It was supposed to be the other
way around. He shouldn’t have had to take over Mom-status.
“Thanks.” I suddenly wasn’t sure what to say to him. I
thought I’d known him so well, but I’d been wrong. Finally, I settled
on the only words that could really express what was welling inside
me. “I love you.”
For the first time all night, he smiled. “Do you want me to
sleep in your room with you tonight?”
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I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just take the
floor in your room.”
“Wait, really?”
“No, not really! Come on, when have I ever done that?”
He shrugged. “When have you ever run into a demon
before?”
“Touché, sir.” I stood up. “Come on. It’s got to be closing in
on 4am, and I’ve got work tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”
We walked into the hallway where our bedrooms were
situated. Just before he passed through the door and into his room,
Gunner paused. “I love you too, Chelsea.”
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Chapter Thirteen
I tried really hard not to smother Tucker. Really, I did my
best to focus on serving customers their ten dollar stale butterdrenched
popcorn all day. When Jake asked if I wanted a break, even
I decided against it so I wouldn’t be tempted to send him a text.
But when my shift ended and I realized I had just enough
time to shoot over to The End Shelf before it closed, my resilience
cracked. I was pulling up to the curb in front of the little bookstore
before the two little characters on my shoulders had even appeared.
The little bell tinkled as I opened the door and stepped into
the heavy, musty air of the bookstore. Normally, the atmosphere was
comforting and steady. This time, it made me stiffen instinctively.
Would Tucker be the same, just as the bookstore was? Or would he
be strange and unfamiliar, like he was last night?
I found him behind the counter, as always. Instead of a book
in his lap, he had a notebook that he was scribbling in. His head was
bent as his pen worked across the paper. All I could see was his
beautiful dark hair and the white letters across his black t-shirt that
read, “By the way, I took care of that thing for ya.”
“Hey,” I greeted him, aware of the hopeful tone in my voice.
Tucker’s head jerked up as if I’d screamed in his ear. When
his eyes fell on me, though, he immediately appeared to calm down
and a smile spread across his face. “Of all the bookstores, in all the
towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”
Instantly my nerves went slack as I relaxed. This was the
Tucker I had hoped to find. The one that wore movie quotes on his
lips and his clothes and smiled like me walking in was the best thing
that happened all day. “How are you doing?” I asked, my own smile
stretching to match his.
“Better,” he answered. “A lot better, actually.” He closed his
notebook and slid it into a compartment beneath the counter. “How
about you? You seemed rattled last night.”
“I’m fine if you’re fine.” I leaned against the nearest shelf.
“I was just worried about you.”
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“You’re sweet.” He stood up and stepped over to stand in
front of me. “But I feel good as new.” Then he bent his head to kiss
me, sending tingles dancing down my spine all the way to my toes.
When he broke away, he walked around to the back of the
counter and pulled out his keys. “How was work today?”
I didn’t need to follow him to continue the conversation; the
store was small enough that he could hear me clearly as he headed
to the front door to lock up. “It was fine, thanks. There’s a new
Sherlock Holmes movie that came out on Friday with rave reviews.
Do you want to go see it one day this week?”
“Definitely.” He flipped the sign so the store’s “Closed”
status was advertised to the outside world. “Do you want to come
over now? I bought some sage on my lunch break and I’m going to
smudge the place.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’d like that.” My reservations about seeing
him had completely melted away. There was nothing strange about
his demeanor; he seemed to have recovered from the episode last
night.
Tucker turned off the lights inside the little shop, grabbed a
plastic shopping bag containing his sage, and we walked outside. I
realized that his car wasn’t parked at the curb. In the summer, I knew
that he walked, but the sidewalk was covered in ice and the air was
positively frigid. New England wasn’t really the best place for
wintertime walks to work.
“You didn’t drive today?” I asked, not trying to hide my
surprise.
“It’s not that cold,” he shrugged.
Oh, well. Maybe he just needed the fresh air to clear his head,
or something. I followed his example and shrugged it off as we got
into my car to drive to his apartment.
Again, to my surprise, he handed the sage stick over to me
once we were inside. “You want me to do it?”
He smiled as he reached into one of the cabinet drawers and
produced a lighter. “You can get some practice.” His thumb flicked
open the top and he held the flame over the dry herb until it caught
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fire. When he pulled it away from the sage in my hand, he left the
lighter burning for a moment.
I hadn’t actually done a smudging on my own before, but I
had watched Daisy when she was training us how. The first thing I
did was open up all the windows and doors in the apartment, which
would let the smoke and negativity out from the newly cleansed
space. Then, starting with the doorway leading to outside, I started
at the bottom and fanned the smoke with my hand to direct it all
around the wood frame. Once the door was complete, I made sure
to touch on all four corners of the room before moving on to the next
one.
The apartment was so small it didn’t take me more than half
an hour to finish. Tucker watched me in the kitchen, but he didn’t
follow me to the rest of the rooms. When I returned to where I’d
started, I found him sitting outside on the wooden stairs in just his t-
shirt. His jacket was still resting where he’d hung it over the chair at
the table.
“You okay?” I asked as the cold breeze blew out the last of
the embers on the sage bundle.
He turned to smile up at me. “Yeah. It just got kind of smoky
in there.”
I held out the sticks to him, and he stood up to take it from
me. When he passed by into the kitchen, I saw that the seat of his
jeans sported a big wet spot from the snow-dampened wood. He
didn’t seem bothered by it though, so I kept my mouth shut.
Tucker set the sage down on the countertop and turned to
me, wiping the ashes off his hands on his jeans. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for letting me do it. That was the first time I ever
got to smudge a place myself.” The whole room smelled musty and
almost like pot, and the air was thick from the smoke. But it felt
clean and refreshed just the same.
“I knew you could do it.” He stepped forward and curled a
hand around my waist. His fingers hooked in my belt loop and he
pulled me forward so our hips bumped together. Then he lowered
his face to mine to kiss me again.
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Now that I had smudged the place, I felt much safer, so I was
able to relax and fall into his kiss. As his mouth opened against mine,
other body parts began to stir. Before I knew it, we were moving
through the doorway and into the den. His hands found the bottom
of my sweater and tugged it upwards. I raised my arms so he could
pull it over my head.
I sat down on the couch and he climbed on top of me, but
before he pressed against me it was my turn to pull his shirt off. He
moved backward so it slipped over his head easily. Then he lay
down on top of me, his fingers moving towards the clasp of my bra.
My hands roved up his chest, but when they got to his
collarbone, something was missing. I opened my eyes and broke
away from the kiss.
His hand paused where it rested on my back. “What?”
“Where’s your necklace?” The rope holding his trademark
Apache Tear wasn’t where it always rested around his neck. In the
entire time I’d known him, I’d never seen that necklace come off.
Tucker laughed. “Oh. I didn’t feel like I needed it any more.
It didn’t help me last night, right? I thought I’d put my faith in the
smudging.” He lowered himself to kiss me again, clearly dismissing
my question.
Okay. Maybe he had a point. If the obsidian stone hadn’t
helped keep him safe, maybe there wasn’t much use in wearing it
anymore. But still, maybe that stone had been the only thing keeping
the demon from hurting him worse.
Whatever. It was his choice. He’d let me smudge the
apartment, so I felt confident that any negativity was curling out the
windows with the smoke.
However, it crept right into my dreams. I woke up with the
sheets sticking to my wet skin, panting as I tried to banish visions of
Tucker being thrown into the wall that led to him not being able to
get up again. I wasn’t sure how long I laid there, staring at the ceiling
and trying to picture butterflies or puppies or anything that wasn’t
his head getting popped like a cherry by that closet door. Even after
the sweat had cooled and dried and my breathing had returned to
normal, my heart kept jerking in the direction of my phone.
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He picked up on the third ring, and his sleepy voice instantly
calmed the lions my nerves had become. “Hey, you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I just had a dream about you and it pretty much
gave me perpetual skeeves. I needed to make sure you were okay.”
Now that I was explaining this to him, I felt a little silly, but not
enough to make me sorry that I called.
“I’m fine. I promise.” The tiredness was draining from his
speech. “What was your dream about?”
“I would really, really rather not go there again.” I fought to
keep the graphic, disturbing images out of my head. “Let’s just say
it was a much worse version of the investigation.”
“Aww, Chelsea.” His concern brushed my cheek as it wafted
from the phone. “You sure you’re okay? You sound like those
skeeves aren’t totally gone yet.”
His use of my word invoked a little smile in spite of the
situation. “They’re going. I’ll be okay. I’m good now that I know
you’re good.”
“I’m really good. In fact, I’m feeling so good, I think I want
to come cuddle my girlfriend a little.”
“Tucker! It’s like, 3am. You have to open your store in a few
hours.”
“I’ve opened it on less sleep than what I’ve already had
tonight. What do you say?”
I slid my legs out of bed and peered out the window. My
dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway yet, which meant he’d still be at
work for a few hours. Tucker could probably be in and out before
he even got home. Just in case, I said, “Park your car across the street
and text me when you get here.”
When I opened the door, Tucker immediately swept me into
his arms, wrapping me up in the sleeves of his college sweatshirt.
Trouble jumped up and put his paws on our hips, completely
unaware of the fact that this was an unconventional time for a visit.
“You know, you didn’t have to come all the way here just to
make me feel better. Not that I’m complaining.” My voice was
muffled by his shoulder.
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“To make you feel better? I’m here on business.” He let me
go and straightened up, looking extremely official in his Call of
Duty pajama pants. “Now, you’ve got a corpse in a car, minus a
head, in a garage. Take me to it.”
The last of my worry melted in the warmth of his smile and
we retreated back into the depths of my room. We had to squish
ourselves together in my little twin bed, and as we lay there with our
noses touching, I was relieved by how normal his eyes looked again.
He wasn’t out of it like he’d been in the aftermath of the
investigation. He was my Tucker, gazing at me like I was Catherine
Zeta Jones, for some delusional reason. Poor boy. Lucky me.
“Now, if you have another nightmare, you can just roll over
and probably elbow me in the face to see that I’m okay.” His smile
split his pale skin.
“Good idea. Maybe I should try kicking you in the shins to
make sure.”
He kissed me, sending that delicious warmth from his body
into mine. I slid my hand over his back, pulling him into me. When
our lips cracked apart, I whispered, “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He transferred his kiss to my nose.
I rolled over and pressed my back against him, fitting
perfectly into the curves of his body. He draped his arm over my
waist and our fingers twined together.
The horrible dreams stayed out of my room the rest of the
night.
I was back to spending most of my weeknights sitting in a
classroom, so I didn’t get to see Tucker again until Wednesday
night. He picked me up from my house at eight and we drove to a
dingy little pub that had the best wings in the state (or so their sign
claimed).
As we walked into the bar, I couldn’t help but watch him
closely. Although I’d felt better after the last time I saw him,
something was off again. It wasn’t until he reached out and smoothly
pulled the door open for me that I realized what it was. His stride
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was different. The way he carried himself was just a little straighter,
with his head a little higher. He was projecting confidence.
“You’re in a good mood tonight, huh?” I asked as we stepped
up to the hostess’s podium.
“Two, please.” He gave her a look like nothing I’d ever seen
before — at least not on his face. His expression was basically
saying, “You’re welcome” for speaking to her. And, amazingly, she
seemed to enjoy it. Her face flushed brightly as she picked up two
menus and smiled up at him through furiously batting eyelashes.
As she led us to our seats, I raised an eyebrow at him. He
grinned down at me. “I’m in a great mood. I’m alive. I feel
amazing.”
The hostess slid the laminated menus onto opposite sides of
the wooden booth, and we slid into place across from each other.
Well, I sort of scooted along. Tucker slid, slowly and gracefully. He
leaned against the wall and brought one leg up onto the seat with
him, his knee bent so he could drape his arm over it. “Thanks,” he
said to the other girl, who flashed a big, flirty smile before she
disappeared in a whirl of blonde hair.
“Okay, do you think you could save that for when I’m not
right here?” I asked as I picked up my menu. I didn’t mean to sound
bitchy, but it was really weird seeing him acting that way toward a
stranger when he never even acted that way toward me. Then again,
I’d probably have smacked him if he’d tried; the arrogance was a bit
much.
He placed one palm on the worn wooden table between us,
his thumb toying with the scratches that formed someone’s initials.
“Relax, Chelsea. I’m just enjoying being out. I was stuck in the
bookstore all day.”
I laid the menu down. Stuck in the bookstore? Since when
was he ever “stuck” there? He loved working there. Or so I thought.
Before I could ask about it, our waitress appeared in a short
red dress and a checkered apron. I kept my eyes down as I asked for
a glass of water so I didn’t have to see how he was looking at this
one.
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Instead, it was his words that gave me the kick in the chest
this time. “What do you have on tap?”
As the waitress recited the list of beers, my blood pounded
in my ears and dulled her voice to a mumble. Tucker had never
ordered a beer before. In fact, he’d never ordered any kind of
alcohol, not even wine. Now, on the night that he was acting so
pleased with himself, he decided he wanted to drink? I couldn’t even
drive the stick shift if he had too much.
The rest of dinner was pretty silent. My normally talkative
boyfriend was very intent on the three beers and twenty buffalo
wings he forced down his skinny throat. And I was thoroughly
uncomfortable with the fact that he was acting so weird.
After he’d paid, I slid my arms into the sleeves of my jacket
and followed him out the door and into the parking lot. I had to be
careful to step evenly on the patches of ice so I wouldn’t slide, but
he just strode right over them as if they weren’t even there. When
we reached his car, he stopped and slipped his hand into his pocket.
The little white object he raised to his lips was the biggest shock of
the night.
“Since when do you smoke?” I demanded.
He ignored my shrill tone and shrugged. “I’m stressed. And
I like the rush.”
“Are you serious?” I wrinkled my nose and opened the
passenger door. I swung myself into the seat and slammed the door
shut behind me.
What was going on? Tucker was acting like a complete tool.
First he was walking like the ground should thank him for gracing it
with his feet, next he was drinking, and now he was lighting up a
cigarette outside the car. Oh, wait, my mistake. He dropped into the
driver’s seat with the lit cigarette still in his mouth. The smoke
immediately began to fill the small interior of the car.
Maybe I should have been angry with him for all of this, but
I was more confused than anything. In the two days since I’d last
seen him, he’d somehow transformed into Douchey McDoucherson.
I knew Tucker Hamilton, and this wasn’t him. He was sweet, kind,
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and humble, and as far as I knew, hadn’t touched alcohol or smoked
anything since college. Not until tonight.
Of course, my first thought as he pulled out of the parking
space was that it had to be related to what had happened at the
Johanssons. But that didn’t really make sense to me. How could
someone encounter something so serious and then flip a switch and
become a total turd? Didn’t near-death experiences usually snap
people back to reality, not swell their heads and raise them so far
above it? And he’d been fine on Sunday.
The cold air rushed in as he opened the window to flick his
ashes outside. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched the
yellow lines disappear under the front of the car.
Instead of parking in my driveway, he situated the car at the
curb in front of my house. My eyebrows immediately came together
in a frown as I swiveled my head to look at him. “What’s up?”
For an answer, he leaned over across the armrest and pressed
his face against mine. Normally, a Tucker kiss sent those pleasant
sparks raining down through me like the trails from fireworks. But
this time, the entire thing was so out of character that my whole body
tensed up.
After a minute of my lips being pretty much motionless
against his, he pulled back. “What’s the matter?”
“You’re acting weird,” I said, intelligently.
His dark eyes bored into mine. Little droplets of sweat
began to bead on the back of my neck. Suddenly I really wanted to
get out of that car.
“I don’t think it’s weird for a guy to want his girl,” Tucker
murmured. He trailed his fingertips down my arm and onto my
thigh. Then his whole hand curled around my leg and his fingers
wedged in between them.
Automatically, my body responded to his. It was a truly
strange sensation to have my lady parts suddenly very alert to the
situation, but at the same time, to want to push him away. Luckily,
my head was in control enough to grab his wrist.
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“Stop.” I was surprised by the conviction that was embedded
in my voice. Half of me still wanted him to keep going. But this
wasn’t right.
“Damn it, Chelsea, are you serious?” He whipped his hand
back to his side of the car so fast it almost took my head off. “What’s
your fucking problem?”
His hand might as well have smacked me. His words were a
swift kick in the chest that knocked the breath right out of me. Never,
in all the time I’d known him, had I ever heard Tucker raise his
voice. And definitely not at me. I barely had enough air left to muster
the question, “Excuse me?”
“You’re my girlfriend. I want you.” His eyes were as hard as
his lips had been earlier. This “want” was nowhere to be found
within them.
My mouth hung open, but the words were lost before they
even reached my tongue. I just stared at him for a few moments,
disbelief strangling me, until finally I reached for the door and
stepped out into the snow.
“Wait, Chelsea.” I heard Tucker’s door open and slam shut
again behind me. His sneakers crunched in the snow as he met me
halfway up my front yard and came to stand in front of me. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why did you say it?” I demanded. The porch light was
at his back so his face was cloaked in shadow. “You have never
acted the way you’ve been acting tonight, Tucker.”
“I don’t know. I just ... I got carried away.” He moved
sideways and the light flooded his face, and I recognized his eyes
again.
My defenses cracked, but I didn’t let them crumble. “I think
I deserve a little more respect than that. I don’t care how carried
away you might get.”
“You’re right. You’re completely right.” His chin was glued
to his chest. Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Funny, for the first
time in almost a year, I couldn’t read what was going through my
boyfriend’s head.
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“Look. I don’t know what’s up with you tonight, but I don’t
appreciate it. Maybe you’re going through some kind of crisis after
almost dying during that investigation or maybe you’re on drugs.
Either way, you’re really lucky I love you so much.” When he
looked up hopefully, I held up my index finger. “But that doesn’t
give you license to suddenly treat me like a pretty side dish. Ever.
Got it?”
“Got it.” Tucker bobbed his head. “I know all of this. I don’t
know why I slipped up like that. I never do that.”
I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been biting my lip until I
released my hold and tasted blood. “I know.”
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Chapter Fourteen
The next few times I saw Tucker, he acted almost completely
normal. He quoted movies, read thick books incomprehensible to
most human beings, and didn’t have the confidence to flirt with
random waitresses. The only thing that was a little unnerving was
his sudden habit of smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day. When
I kissed him, it left an ashy taste in my mouth, shadows of the weird
night we’d had. But since there were only shadows and no more
actual displays of assholery, I pushed it to the back of my mind.
It took three weeks before Daisy and Richard decided to ask
him to come to another investigation. I wondered if they’d been
contemplating kicking him out of the group, but I wasn’t about to
go and ask something like that behind his back. Most likely they
were just giving him time to recover before he stomped back into
another place riddled with spirits.
I happened to be free that night, too, so at eight o’clock,
Tucker was at my house. When I opened the door to let him inside,
I saw that his car was still running in the driveway, and Susannah
was checking her makeup in the side mirror. Trouble, on the other
hand, was only interested in his favorite visitor. He immediately
pressed himself against my boyfriend’s leg, demanding attention.
“You look adorable,” Tucker said, reaching out to touch one
of my braids with his free hand.
“This is business attire, Mr. Hamilton. There’s nothing
adorable about it.” I swatted his hand away and grinned. “Just let me
grab my bag.” I turned and hurried down the hallway to my room.
As I was checking to make sure I had all my equipment in
the black messenger bag, Trouble’s barking echoed through the
halls. I started to roll my eyes before I realized this wasn’t his usual
playful “love me” type of bark. This was the kind of bark he used
on strangers we passed when we took him for walks. Did Susannah
come inside? He hadn’t ever had a chance to meet her.
The barking continued, and I heard Tucker’s voice mixed
into the raucous chorus, although I couldn’t make out his words. I
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flipped my light switch behind me as I exited my room and emerged
into the hallway.
Just in time to see Tucker’s foot collide with my dog.
Trouble let out a little yelp of surprise and pain and
immediately backed off, tail pressed firmly between his legs. I
dropped my bag of equipment and rushed forward. “What the hell,
Tucker?” I demanded as I fell to my knees beside the skinny black
canine. I ran my hand along his back gently, trying to calm his
furious panting.
“He wouldn’t leave me alone.” Something in his voice made
me turn and look at him. There it was again. That cold, hard lack of
emotion glassing over his normally expressive eyes.
It kicked on the fear response in my brain, but I wasn’t about
to tuck in my tail like Trouble. “So you kick him? A dog barks at
you and your first thought is hey, if I hurt him, maybe he’ll stop?”
My fingers twisted in the long, fluffy hair around the dog’s ears. He
glanced at me, still panting.
“Sorry.” His word was shallow steel.
I didn’t know what to do. Trouble seemed like he was fine;
his dignity was probably hurting more than anything. No one had
ever hit him with anything before, except maybe Gunner with some
Legos when he was younger. But even if it was safe to leave the dog
alone, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go anywhere with Tucker. This
was the second time I’d seen his eyes look so empty and glassy like
that, both times following some completely unusual and kind of
scary behavior. I didn’t know what could be causing it, barring some
kind of mental disorder brought on by head trauma after hitting a
wall. But my trust in my boyfriend didn’t extend to this stranger he
was routinely turning into.
And just the realization of that fact was enough to blow a
few holes in my protective shield for the night.
“You guys go. I’ll drive myself.” I focused on Trouble, not
wanting to look up because I didn’t know which Tucker would be
looking back at me. I didn’t want to be so cold to the one I loved and
I didn’t want to piss off the one I didn’t know.
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“Seriously? You had me drive all the way here just to tell me
to leave?” Then his usual warmth laced the last word. “Chelsea?”
I couldn’t help myself. I raised my gaze to meet his and
found my boyfriend looking back at me. His dark eyes spoke even
more wounded puppy than Trouble’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
upset you. Please ride with us.”
My jaw clenched tightly as I stood up and retrieved my bag.
I knew that Richard and Daisy liked us all to go in only one or two
cars so we wouldn’t attract attention to the house we were
investigating. We didn’t want the neighbors to be like, “You guys
have ghosts? WEIRDOS.” And the strange look had completely
vanished from Tucker’s eyes, creating at least an illusion of the
safety I’d known for the entire time I’d known him. As long as he
didn’t go bizarro again, it should be fine. I could redo my protection
on the way there.
“We’ll talk later,” I said as I brushed past him.
Daisy and Anthony were already standing on the sidewalk
beside their car when we pulled up. The house in question was a
little green bungalow with white trim. It looked like something out
of a children’s book, especially with the little glass sunflowers and
butterflies sticking out of the front lawn.
“Everything okay?” Daisy asked, her eyes flitting
suspiciously to Tucker. “You guys are a little late.”
“We’re fine,” Susannah chirped. “Just a little traffic.” If
she’d picked up on tension between Tucker and me, she hadn’t
mentioned it. Actually, if it hadn’t been for her, that would have
been one completely frigid car ride.
I hugged my denim jacket tightly around me as we filed up
to the front door. The snow had mostly melted from the grass but
Massachusetts was hanging tightly onto winter, as always.
A thirty-something woman with long hair as blonde as
Susannah’s, but much less fake, answered the door. She smiled at us
and the way her freckles stretched out made me think of Michelle
and a quick pang squeezed my heart. Not now, Chelsea. Keep your
shields up.
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“Hi, guys,” she greeted us before stepping aside. One by one,
we walked past her through the door and into the warmth of her
home. And that wasn’t just temperature warmth, either; the place
smelled like french toast on a Sunday morning. All the furniture
looked like cozy, wooden things with big, dark colored cushions
you’d find in a log cabin a little further up north. And there were
cute little duck knickknacks on the shelves and coffee table.
Who doesn’t love baby duck bookends?
As I bent down to further inspect the porcelain yellow birds,
I noticed the titles on a few of the books. Wicca 101, Handbook for
Wiccans, Magick Spellbook, Complete Study of Witchcraft. A few
months ago, this would have given me a thorough wigging out. But
now, I straightened up calmly and waited to see what exactly was
happening here.
“So, for those of you I haven’t met yet, I’m Carrie. I already
talked to Richard on the phone and he said it was okay for me to tell
you this. I’m a practicing Wiccan, and one of my spells seems to
have attracted some kind of a spirit. They aren’t threatening in any
way, but I want to know who they are and if they need some kind of
help.” Carrie’s dark eyes moved to each of us in turn. When her gaze
finally landed on me, she smiled again. “That’s all I want to
accomplish tonight.”
She led us on a tour of her tiny house, which was chock full
of fake ducks in every corner. Who knew a witch’s weakness would
be tiny feathery baby birds? I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I
didn’t feel any kind of tension or weird sensation like I had in the
Johanssons’ house.
Once we’d seen the kitchen, the bedroom, and the bathroom,
Carrie brought us back out to the family room area we’d first stepped
into. Daisy instructed us to set up our equipment at the coffee table
and informed us of our pairings for the night. “Tucker, you’re with
Chelsea. Susannah, you go with Anthony.”
By this time, I was so grounded that I didn’t mind working
with Tucker. He had seemed completely himself the entire drive
there and during the tour of the house. Whatever thing had happened
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to him with Trouble earlier, we could discuss it later. It was placed
aside while we did business.
“You want to go to the kitchen first?” he asked as he stuffed
his EMF detector in the pocket of his cargo pants.
“Sure.” I clicked my thermometer’s battery cover into place.
Daisy took care of the lights as soon as we settled down in
position. Tucker sat at the kitchen table and I leaned against the
counter, flicking on the red flashlight to combat the darkness.
His voice recorder was set up on the table in front of him, so
immediately he launched into an EVP session. “Hi, I’m Tucker. This
is Chelsea. We’re just here to talk with you; we don’t mean you any
harm. Can you tell us your name?” After a few moments of silence,
he asked, “Can you say our names?”
Then, for the first time since we’d entered the house, I started
to feel uncomfortable. Not in the same way as I had at the
Johanssons, but I was getting the idea that we weren’t as welcome
there as we’d first thought.
“Do you mind having us here?” I asked.
Tucker’s eyebrow lifted, silently asking me what I was
picking up on. I ignored him.
“Do you not like us?” I continued.
Suddenly, Tucker’s EVP recorder skidded across the table.
It dropped straight off the edge and hit the ground in a clatter of
batteries exploding out of it. I jumped so high I almost caught the
ceiling fan to cling to.
“Jesus,” I breathed, aiming my flashlight at Tucker as he
bent over to grab the pieces of his recorder. In the dim red light, I
caught a glimpse of a cut of some sort on his side when his shirt
lifted up. But then he was sitting again and the spot of his skin was
covered by fabric again, so I stuck up a mental Post-it to look at
whatever it was later.
“You okay?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I’m good. What made you ask those
questions?”
“Just a feeling.”
156

Once Tucker had dropped off Susannah, he drove us back to
his apartment in silence. The remainder of the night had been
uneventful, with the same uneasy feeling following us but no more
equipment flying off furniture. We hadn’t gotten any EMF hits or
anything, and Anthony and Susannah had experienced the same kind
of luck.
Eventually, when we pulled into his parking spot outside his
place, I spoke up. “So, I don’t know what’s been up with you lately.
But it’s got me worried. I think you should get some kind of help.”
Tucker’s head jerked up like I’d smacked him in the face
with Silly Putty. “Help?”
“Yeah. Like, of the psychiatric or medical persuasion. I’m
not kidding, Tucker. You’ve swapped personalities twice since that
investigation where you got thrown into a wall. I don’t know what
you could have rattled around in there but it’s definitely all too real
that something’s not right.” I could feel my eyes bugging out as the
words spilled forth.
He took his hand off the stick and laid it gently in his lap.
“You really think I’ve been that different?”
“Not always. Most of the time you’re fine. But then there are
times when I worry. You kicked my dog today. You smoke
cigarettes now. And you’ve been an ass to me more than once. All
of this does not fit into the Tucker Hamilton spectrum.”
His gaze was in his lap with his hands. My heart gave a little
kick of distress and I reached out and laid my hand on his thigh. “I’m
just concerned. You’re scaring me a little. This isn’t you.”
Tucker turned to meet my eyes. “You’re not making any
little jokes. You must be serious.”
“I am completely serious.” I squeezed his thigh for effect.
Slowly he breathed in a massive amount of air and exhaled
in a sigh that totally seemed to deflate him. “I’m sorry, Chelsea. The
last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable around me, let
alone scared of me. I’m so sorry for kicking Trouble. You’re right;
maybe I should go and get checked out.”
My heart was filling up with Tucker love again. This was the
man I wanted to be dating. The one who listened to me when I had
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something to say and wasn’t afraid to be weak in front of me.
“Thank you. Just to make sure everything’s okay. I just don’t want
anything bad to happen to you.”
His eyes flashed with a seriousness I’d never seen before.
“Or to you.”
A shiver rocketed across my skin, leaving all my hair
standing up in its wake. “Yeah. Or to me.”
“Do you still want to come in?”
I nodded. “Always.”
We crowded side by side up the thin staircase leading to his
apartment, and once we shut the door behind us, I immediately threw
my arms around him. I was so grateful that he’d accepted what I’d
said and that creepy blank stare hadn’t surfaced again. Hopefully,
whoever he decided to go to for help would be able to determine
what was up with his head.
He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on my neck. My
body started to hum with life as his kisses trailed down to my
collarbone. His hand gripped the back of my neck to hold me in
place as I started to squirm beneath his lips.
“Tucker, we have to shower,” I murmured.
“Mmmm,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
“No, I mean, after the investigation shower. Get all the
energy off us.” My knees nearly buckled as both his hands grabbed
my hips and pulled me into him. Whoa, someone was assertive all
of a sudden. And someone else kind of liked it.
“Okay,” he agreed, opening his mouth against my neck and
lightly grazing it with his teeth. “In a minute.”
I let him slide my jacket off my shoulders and onto the floor.
His hands started to explore underneath my sweater. Then, he
changed his mind and knelt down, hooking his arms underneath me.
Before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms, and he was
carrying me to his bedroom.
“Since when are you strong enough to lift me?” I teased.
“Since you started driving me so crazy.” His voice was
husky and his eyes chased the jokes right out of my mind.
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Tucker laid me down on his bed, and when he straightened
up again, he pulled my sweater over my head. When he climbed on
top of me, I found the bottom of his shirt and tugged it up until he
pulled it the rest of the way himself. He tossed it to the floor with
mine.
My hands roved down his chest and onto his sides until they
felt a scratchy, raised area. In the dark, I couldn’t see what I was
feeling. “Tucker, what’s this?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” he breathed into my ear, his hips already
pressing against mine.
“No, really, are you okay?” I asked.
He pulled back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I caught myself on a shelf
at the shop a few days ago. Just a scratch.”
I moved my fingers away and focused on his shoulders
instead.
We shed the rest of our clothing and Tucker slid into me. But
the way his hips rocked was different. Just like the assertive way
he’d initiated this, he was moving with a confidence, with
knowledge. His motions were fluid like this was what he’d been
born to do. Then, he started to thrust at a different angle, and he
started hitting something he’d never touched before. This incredible
pleasure spread through my hips and legs until it engulfed my whole
body. I could barely move or breathe it felt so incredible. I didn’t
know where he learned to do that, but I didn’t care; I wasn’t
thinking. I was just feeling. His hips pumped faster and faster until
I was moaning like a porn star.
Then his angle changed again. And this time it wasn’t so fun.
His movements felt like they were tearing up my insides. Pain shot
through my body instead of pleasure.
“Ow, hey, easy!” I said.
He didn’t slow down. Little grunts of pleasure were dripping
from his mouth and his body was damp with perspiration. Fear laced
with the pain that was running through my nerves and I started to
push at his chest.
“Tucker! You’re hurting me!” I cried. “Stop it!”
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Still he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting again and again, his
grunting becoming more frenzied as he closed in on his goal. The
goal that blinded him to the pain I was in beneath him. Tears sprang
into my eyes and I thought I was going to start bleeding if he didn’t
stop. I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face as hard
as I could.
In one final motion, his body stiffened as his head rocked to
the side from the force of my hand. He jerked a few times and then
his muscles released, a deep groan rolling out of his throat as he
collapsed and rolled to the side of me.
I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, not sure if I could move.
What the hell had just happened? Who was this person lying naked
in bed beside me? What happened to my gentle, romantic Tucker
who asked if I was okay at least once every time we had sex? My
Tucker who was hesitant to ever take control, and definitely never
would without me asking him to? It seemed good at first, but not if
it led to this ...
My whole body still felt echoes of the agony he’d just put
me through. I sat up and wrapped myself in his blanket, retreating
to the bathroom. When I turned on the light, I inspected the damage.
No blood, but my hips and thighs were red from him slamming so
hard against them. It still smarted, but everything seemed to check
out okay.
When I returned to the bedroom, I immediately flipped on
the light. Fear was snapping at my heels, urging me to get out of
there, but I had to collect my clothes. I kept my eyes on the floor,
not wanting to look at him. I couldn’t believe he’d just done that to
me. The impact on my heart was worse than anything he could have
done to my body.
“Chelsea, are you okay?” His voice was so cautious, so
placid.
I didn’t turn around until I had all my clothes back on. “No.
I’m not okay. I told you to stop and you didn’t. You seriously hurt
me, Tucker. I don’t want to see you again until you get help.”
His face looked like I’d just set fire to everything he held
dear in the world. Like he didn’t understand why I was leaving. But
160

that wasn’t the most disturbing part of the image in front of me. My
hands must have missed them in the frenzy that had just occurred on
the bed, but the cut on his side wasn’t the only one. There was
another on his other side, one on his arm, several on his legs. There
were bruises on his back in places I couldn’t possibly fathom how
he could have reached.
“Please don’t leave, Chelsea. I’m so sorry. I got carried
away.”
“You get carried away a lot lately. I’m so scared for you,
Tucker. Please talk to someone.”
And with that, I was on my way out the door and down the
stairs, and my fingers were already punching in the number for a
taxi on my phone.
161

Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I was so sore I could barely walk around.
I called Jake to ask if he could cover my shift at work. He agreed
only if I promised to take his Friday night shift. At that point I
sincerely did not care about work, so I took the deal and situated
myself on the couch.
My tired mind was so bogged down I didn’t hear a word that
came from the TV. Eventually, Gunner came home from his friend’s
house and settled down by my feet with Trouble. I found myself
watching him, wondering if he would have some kind of an answer
to my questions. He wasn’t as much of a kid as he looked like, after
all. And he was something of an expert when it came to the
paranormal. Maybe there were other reported cases of people being
injured and coming out all disoriented.
Or maybe I shouldn’t burden my little brother with these
kinds of things. The kid had enough to worry about. You’re a big
girl, Chelsea. You can handle this. He’s going to get help. He might
be all better in a few weeks.
Two days later, Tucker called me. I didn’t pick it up, but
when I went back to listen to the voicemail, my heart made quite an
attack on the defenses I’d been busy building. He told me he’d made
an appointment to see a doctor and make sure nothing was wrong
with his head, and that he was so, so sorry. That he never wanted to
hurt me and he couldn’t bear the thought of it and would I please,
please call him back.
Like a pansy, I caved. I couldn’t bear the sorrow in his voice,
and ignoring him probably wouldn’t help the situation. However,
that didn’t mean I was going to break and see him.
“Chelsea!” The way he said my name pulled at my stupid
emotions, but I swallowed them down.
“I’m glad you made an appointment. Are you doing okay?”
“No. I’m scared, Chels. I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s
wrong with me or how I could do that to you.”
162

I ground my teeth together violently. Keep it together,
Keller. This is how girls get sucked into abusive relationships. No
matter how much you love him, he’s not safe right now. “You’re
gonna be fine. Okay? You did the right thing. You’re going to see a
doctor. He’ll help you.”
“I miss you.”
God, just drive the freaking knife right into my heart, why
don’t you?
“I miss you too.” My voice sounded like the air rushing out
of a balloon.
“So I guess ... I’ll see you around then.”
“Let me know how the doctor goes. When’s your
appointment?”
“Next Friday.”
“Okay. Look, remember, through all this, no matter what, I
love you. I just can’t be around you right now.”
“I understand.”
I had never missed Michelle so much as I did during the
week and a half it took for Tucker to go to his doctor’s appointment.
I wanted to text her and spill everything that was going on. I wanted
to cry because I was so freaking terrified that Tucker was going to
wind up drugged up on medication or in a padded room. I wanted
her to tell me it would work out and come over and watch movies
and distract me. But I couldn’t. She’d never forgive me for going off
on her if she found out she’d been right, at least about ghost hunting
being dangerous.
Instead, I stuck it out on my own, keeping busy with work
and trying to focus on sociology and statistics. As if. My boyfriend
was going through trauma and I was sitting around trying to identify
what problems were mutually exclusive. Obviously my focus was
on the enthralling math equations!
On Friday night, Tucker sent me a text that told me he’d gone
to the doctor. They wanted to do some testing so it was going to be
a while longer before they’d know what was going on with him. I
answered that I was proud of him and to please keep me posted.
163

When I got out of work on Sunday, I had circles under my
eyes the same color as the roads I drove home on. This waiting, this
not knowing was pulling at me, making my chest hurt and my body
exhausted. I could not describe how infatuated I was with the idea
of flopping down on my bed and passing out before the clock hit
8:30.
But when I went to pull into my usual spot in the driveway,
there was a car blocking my entrance. A little silver Chevy Cobalt,
the passenger seat of which I had become very familiar with. My
heart dive-bombed my stomach and the handful of popcorn I’d
downed tried to climb back up my throat. I swallowed hard as I
managed to park my car against the curb.
What was he doing here? My feet were so hard to lift they
felt like they were glued to every place I stepped on my trek up the
driveway. I didn’t want to see him yet. Not until he’d gotten the tests
done and they had identified the cause of his freaky mood swings.
I opened the door slowly, like they do in horror movies when
they’re expecting a killer to be lurking in the shadows. Unlike in the
movies, though, the man I wanted to avoid was sitting right on the
couch in my living room, watching TV with my little brother.
Instantly, I felt a surge of instinctive adrenaline that would
have allowed me to throw myself in front of Gunner if I needed to.
When I stepped inside, both of their heads turned in unison. Tucker
looked a little uncertain, but my brother smiled about a thousand
watts at me.
“Hi, Chelsea. I invited Tucker over tonight. I hope that’s
okay.”
My eyebrows crashed downward in a frown. How did
Gunner even get in contact with Tucker? He didn’t have a cell phone
yet. But they did email each other. When did they get to the point
where they wanted to hang out with each other?
“We’ve been emailing for the last few weeks. Gunner had
some questions about some things he’d been reading.” My
boyfriend’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear it over Bruce
Willis shooting things on TV. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
164

I seriously contemplated my options for about a nanosecond.
All signs pointed to it being completely unsafe having Tucker here,
especially now that Gunner was involved. But the sight of his big
brown eyes, his perfect skin, and those hands I impulsively wanted
to reach out and hold ... they pulled me in. I shrugged, trying to
pretend like my insides weren’t battling each other so viciously.
“No, it’s okay. It’s good to see you.” I stepped around behind the
couch and over to the armchair.
Normally, I’d go right to the shower, but I didn’t want to
leave them alone. All I needed was for Tucker to snap and start
kicking my little brother instead of Trouble. Speaking of the dog —
I glanced around. His little black frame was nowhere in sight.
Normally when Tucker was here, he was all over him. But he wasn’t
even in the room. Did dogs even remember when someone hurt them
one time?
“How was work?” Gunner’s voice brought me back to the
surface of my mind and I took a breath.
“Not too bad, thanks. The new Paul Rudd movie sold out
again, even on Sunday night.” I pulled my hair out of its ponytail
and immediately the smell of popcorn assaulted my nose. Scratch
that. Not without a shower. I retied my hair to keep it out of my face.
“What have you guys been doing?” Besides plotting to drive me
insane.
“Tucker was explaining pendulums to me. I didn’t get how
they worked. Did you know you can make them swing one way or
another just by willing it to swing that way?” Gunner reached
forward to a little velvet bag on the coffee table in front of him. He
tugged out a pendulum on a silver chain.
I hadn’t been involved in the paranormal world long enough
to build much of a sensitivity to that kind of thing. Plus Tucker was
looking at me and it was really hard to pretend I didn’t notice. So I
just nodded. “Sure. That’s pretty cool.”
“Definitely. Now we’re watching Die Hard.” My brother
held the pendulum up over his palm like the mediums do on TV
when they want to communicate with the spirit world.
165

I sank back into the chair and allowed my eyes to flick over
to Tucker. He had stopped watching me and was gazing blankly at
the screen. I wondered what was going on in his mind, and then
sadness gave me a sharp stab in the heart when I realized how
strange it was to not know. Then he glanced at me and gave me a
heartbreaking little smile. Ouch.
Poor Gunner was caught in the crossfire of way too much
tension. After a few minutes he put the pendulum down on top of its
little bag and stood up. “You guys want to roast marshmallows?”
“Over the stove?” Tucker asked, finally breaking our gaze to
look at my brother.
“No, we can use a lighter and do it right here. Hang on.”
Gunner disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, the promise
of food proved to be enough to lure Trouble back into the room,
because the dog was right at his heels. He had to hold the bag of
marshmallows up by his shoulder to keep it safe.
Gunner paused to hand a fork and a marshmallow to me, and
then continued over to his seat on the couch beside Tucker. Trouble
plopped down next to me, eyeballing my marshmallow like it was a
four-course meal.
“Didn’t Gun feed you?” I asked him, reaching over with my
free hand to scratch behind his ears.
“I always feed him. And he’s always hungry anyway.”
Gunner rolled his eyes as he stabbed another marshmallow and
handed the fork to Tucker. Then he speared his own ‘mallow and
took our kitchen lighter out of his pocket. He raised the flame to the
marshmallow and made sure he browned all the sides of it before
passing the lighter on to Tucker.
“See, this way you eat all the crispy parts off and then you
go through and do it again.” He tried to smile and eat the
marshmallow at the same time, but it resulted in white goop all over
his top lip. He jumped back, licking at it with his tongue like a dog.
“Crap, that’s hot.”
I laughed in spite of the situation, and even Tucker cracked
a little smile as he toasted his own marshmallow. It faded quickly as
166

he watched the little flame dancing across the white surface. His
marshmallow rapidly blackened and sprouted bubbles.
“You like them that burned?” Gunner asked through a
mouthful of white goo.
The smile resurfaced on Tucker’s lips as he clicked off the
lighter. “Yeah.” He stood up and reached over to hand me the
lighter. I kept my feet as far from him as possible, but when my
fingers brushed over his the familiar tingles spread through my arm.
I jerked the lighter away probably too quickly and
concentrated on effectively burning my 'mallow. Damn it, Tucker.
Why must you be so hot now? Why can’t you still be the dorky
bookworm I first met so I wouldn’t have to be in this situation at all?
When I was done, I passed the lighter back to Gunner, who
toasted the second layer of his marshmallow and then handed the
kitchen tool along. Tucker hadn’t even taken a bite out of his own
marshmallow yet, but he lit the flame again and held it up to the
blackened sweet. After a few moments, he pulled the lighter away,
watching the tiny blaze burning steadily. He held it up right in front
of his face, and my marshmallow turned to ash in my mouth when I
recognized the cold gleam in his eyes.
Before I could move, or swallow the ashes so I could speak,
Tucker moved the lighter back toward the fork in his hand. But
instead of focusing the flame on the marshmallow, he held it against
the skin on his wrist.
“Tucker!” Gunner shouted, jumping up. His half-eaten
marshmallow splattered against the carpet with barely a thump.
I dove forward at the same time and grabbed Tucker’s hand
that held the lighter. When I tried to pull it away from his wrist, I
was shocked by how much resistance I met. He was never this
strong; I could always pretty easily overpower him.
Luckily, the action of me grabbing him was enough to shake
him out of whatever the hell kind of trance he was in. He clicked off
the flame and blinked, staring first at me, and then at his wrist, which
was a horrible shade of red. His mouth hung open in this perfect
little “o.”
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The breath shakily emptied from my lungs as I let go of his
hand and took a step back, making sure to keep Gunner behind me.
“Tucker ... you need to go to the hospital. Like right now. That looks
bad.”
Tucker’s chest was heaving like he was in pain, but his face
was strangely clear of any signs that he might be experiencing some
massive degree of agony. He closed his mouth and nodded. “Okay.”
“He might be in shock,” Gunner said, peering over my
shoulder. “You should drive him.”
I didn’t really want to be alone with him, but my brother had
a point. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and backed up more so I
could take the long way around the couch. I stepped on Gunner’s
foot but he just bounced to the side so he’d be out of my way.
“Come on, Tucker.”
He placed the lighter on the coffee table and stood up,
keeping his arm bent at a weird angle like a dinosaur. Part of me
wanted to rush to him and clean it myself and make it better. The
other part of me wanted him to keep it far, far away from me. My
stomach pitched when I saw the blistered skin up close. He
continued walking past me out the door, holding it open long enough
for Trouble to dart into the front yard for a quick pee break.
“Call me if you need anything, Gun.”
“Chelsea, has Tucker been acting ... weird lately?” Gunner
asked, gazing past me out the door.
I paused with one hand on the knob. “Uhh ... yeah. He’s been
a little out of it.”
“Did you guys run into anything bad in the paranormal
realm?” His eyes turned to me at the same time a chill rushed
through me. What kind of dots was he connecting?
“Yeah.” I gripped the doorknob like it would support me if I
lost my balance.
“I think you and I need to talk when you get back. He’s, um,
acting really weird.” Gunner’s hands were knotted together like a
ball of yarn.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Sure. When I get
back.”
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At that moment, several things seemed to happen all at once,
in less than a second. First, we heard the sound of a motor starting
up in the driveway, followed by the brief sound of rolling tires. Then
a canine yelp of pain rocketed through the front door and straight
into my bloodstream, freezing my heart mid-pump. Then Gunner
pounced off the couch like a lion and we bolted out the front door at
the same time. His elbow knocked against my side and I stepped on
his foot again, but we barely noticed.
Tucker was just climbing out of his car, which was still
running. Lying in the driveway in front of the silver Chevy was the
skinny frame of Trouble. His fur was so dark it almost blended in
with the blacktop, but his sides were shaking so much he was
unmistakable. Gunner and I exchanged a glance that was a contest
of whose eyes could get wider before darting forward.
We reached Trouble at the same time Tucker did and all
three of us knelt beside him. There was a dark pool forming beneath
him and a faint metallic smell clouded the air around him, but he
was still panting rapidly. He moved his eyes to look at me when I
reached for him.
“Don’t touch him!” Gunner exclaimed, grabbing my hand
before it reached the dog. “If he’s hurt badly you could paralyze him.
We have to call someone.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Do I call 911 for a dog
emergency?”
“No, we have to call the vet. Hang on. I’ll go get the number.
Don’t touch him.” Gunner was gone in a flash of white sneakers and
I heard the front door slam shut behind him.
“Hang on, boy. We’ll get you help. I promise. You’ll be
okay.” Tears clawed venomously at my eyes as I realized I could
very well be bullshitting the sad, broken form on the driveway. No,
don’t think that way. He’ll be fine. How fast could Tucker have been
going, anyway?
My eyes lifted from Trouble to Tucker, who was already
staring at me. “What happened?” My voice was colder than I’d ever
heard it sound.
His eyes matched my tone. “He was in my way.”
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“He was in front of your car. You would have had to go
forward when you should have been going in reverse.” My fingers
balled into a fist just so I could have something to squeeze. I could
barely believe we were actually having this conversation. “Did you
hit him on purpose?”
At first, he didn’t move at all; he just kept staring at me.
Then, very slowly, Tucker’s lips curled up in the corners. “Why
would I do that? I love dogs.”
His response would have knocked me backward if I wasn’t
already kneeling. The chilly March air had nothing to do with the
goose bumps that broke out all up and down my arms. Tucker, my
sweet, gentle boyfriend, hit my dog with his car on purpose. He
should have been worried and freaking out, and … my frantic
thoughts were interrupted by a pathetic whimper from Trouble.
“Shhh, boy, it’s all right.” I bit my lip; it was so hard not to
reach out and touch him.
Then Gunner was back, shouting out a telephone number
over and over so he wouldn’t forget it. I quickly called. As it was
ringing, I stood up protectively over my dog and in front of my
brother. “Get out of here, Tucker.”
He raised an eyebrow like he was inviting me to challenge
him. I stared back with as much steel as I could muster against this
boy who had such a hold on my heart. After a few rings, a woman
picked up the phone and anounced, “Hello, Hope Veterinary Office.
How may I help you?”
“Yeah, hi, my name is Chelsea Keller, and my dog just got
hit by a car.”
When Tucker saw that my focus was elsewhere, he dropped
his gaze and turned around to get into his car. Gunner tried to step
in between the car and Trouble, but I grabbed his shirt to keep him
in place.
“Okay, hang on. Let me transfer you to our emergency
department.”
Tucker’s silver Chevy backed out of the driveway with such
a ferocious roar I thought he might leave skid marks on the blacktop.
As he pulled away down the street, he met my eyes through the
170

window one last time. That same hollow, terrifying expression
gripped my bones and held my tongue in place so I stuttered the next
time someone asked if they could help me.
171

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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“Whatever was in that house was evil. I didn’t believe him
at first, but he started coming into school with weird scratches on
him and was so scared. And I think the demon might have attached
itself to Tucker.”
His words were a twister that tore up the entire room and
wrenched all my limbs apart. I opened my mouth, but my tongue
couldn’t form words. It took me several tries before I finally went,
with the utmost coherence, “What?”
My brother glanced down at the phone that was lying on the
coffee table, its silence reminding us of the absence of Trouble in
the house. They said they’d call when they had news.
“He burned his own hand. He hit our dog with his car. I’m
guessing you’ve noticed some other things wrong with him, too.” I
thought of the lack of his necklace. The going outside when I
smudged his apartment. The scratches and bruises. The smoking and
the arrogance. The way he’d hurt me. My heart twisted into a knot.
“Shit.” I slammed my fist into the couch.
“I’m not saying it’s definite. But I’m saying it’s worth
looking into.” Gunner chewed nervously on his lip. “And you should
probably not be around him alone.”
“You think he’s possessed?” I asked, my voice sounding
very small.
“Possibly. I don’t know. Every case is different. But he’s
showing some signs that can’t be written off as just coincidence after
what happened at the Johanssons’.”
I pressed my nose against my knees. God. How was I
supposed to react to this? I’d always been so afraid of something
like this happening to me. Now it had happened to the person who’d
been reassuring me all along that I’d be fine. My mentor. My guide.
My Tucker.
“Hey, Chelsea, it’s okay.” Gunner reached out to awkwardly
pat my hand. “I wanted to tell you so we could get him some help.
You can tell the people in charge of your group. They should know
what to do to help him.”
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“What do you do to help someone in this situation?” I asked.
Stop shaking like that, voice. If you sound so weak it might actually
make me cry.
“Um, don’t freak out, okay? But you usually want to get a
priest or a demonologist. Someone who can perform an exorcism if
everyone agrees we’re right for suspecting he might be possessed.”
“You’re kidding.” He just kept shooting me in the chest.
Gunner shook his head. “I wish I was. But they can help.
They can get rid of it if Tucker wants to get rid of it. But only if
we’re totally sure.”
“How can we know for sure?”
“If you tell all the signs to your group leaders, they’ll know
if they should call someone else in. Have you done any other
investigations since the one at the Johanssons’?”
“Just one.”
“Did anything weird happen?” he asked.
I didn’t have to think back far to remember the recorder
sliding off the table in response to me asking if the spirit liked us.
When I relayed this to Gunner, he threw up his arms. “And you
haven’t listened to that to see if you got some kind of response yet?”
My arms went up in front of me defensively. “Hey, a little
preoccupied with my boyfriend’s sudden transformation into
Creepy McCreeperton.”
“Well, where’s your recorder? Let’s listen to it!” Gunner was
practically bouncing in his seat.
I did what he said and retrieved the voice recorder from my
bag. When I sat down on the couch again, I handed one earbud to
him and stuck the other one in my ear. We held our heads close
together as we listened to the recording with the volume all the way
up.
There was silence at first, but then Tucker’s voice flooded
my ear. “Hi, I’m Tucker. This is Chelsea. We’re just here to talk
with you; we don’t mean you any harm. Can you tell us your name?”
All was quiet for a few moments until he asked another question.
Then the silence resumed.
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Next, it was my turn to ask questions. I asked if the spirits
minded having us there, and there was silence again. But when it
came time for my second question, we got a response. “Do you not
like us?” was followed by a furious hiss and then the sound of the
recorder sliding off the table. It was so loud I had to rip the earbud
out of my ear.
“Play it again!” Gunner urged.
I rewound the recording and played my question again. “Do
you not like us?” Hissssssss. Deafening sound of recorder flying
across the room.
Gunner’s head turned slowly toward me. His skin was the
color of the white couch beneath us. “Did you hear what it said?”
“No.” I rewound it again and played it, over and over, until
the hiss began to form words. Nmmmmmmmmmmmfffff
hhmmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnn. Nnnnnnnntt hmmmmmmmnnnn.
Nnnnnooooottt huuuuuummmmaaaaannnn. Not human.
It was my turn to change snowman-colored. I finally
swiveled my head to meet Gunner’s gaze. “What. The. Hell.”
He kept balling and unballing his fists frantically. “Jesus,
Chelsea. Next time something like that happens, listen to the
recording right away, okay?”
We spent the rest of the night huddled together on the couch,
listening to the remainder of the recordings I’d taken. We caught a
“Get out” and a “No” that didn’t make any sense in context with the
questions we’d asked. But that first hiss kept pounding in my ears.
Not human. Not human. Not human.
Eventually, the animal hospital called us back. Gunner
grabbed the phone first, so I had to sit there and wait in excruciation
for him to finish his extensive conversation that lasted all of two
minutes. He told me that Trouble was going to be okay; they’d
stopped the internal bleeding and repaired his broken leg. However,
they wanted to keep him for a few nights just to monitor his
condition and make sure he didn’t start to bleed again.
One sigh of relief rushed out of me. My dog was going to
live. At least one of us was out of danger for now.
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But that didn’t change Tucker’s situation. I should have just
asked Gunner from the beginning instead of shouldering the issue
myself. Sure, it was still possible that he had some psychological or
physical condition going on, but I couldn’t ignore the other option
that had been presented. It sounded more likely the more I went
through his strange behavior. Something malicious wouldn’t be
comfortable wearing a necklace meant to keep negative things at
bay. It certainly wouldn’t be able to stay in a room with smoke
meant to cleanse the place of dark energy. And it would have no
problem hurting anyone else — it might even enjoy it.
My stomach kept on bucking and pitching like a pissed off
horse trying to throw its rider. I wanted to go to his apartment and
chase the bad thing away myself. I wanted to hide in my room and
hope it never found me. I wanted to apologize to Tucker, who was a
prisoner in his own body, for the coldness I’d shown him and the
failure of my trust in him. God, my head was on fire.
The next morning, I woke up early just so I could call the
heads of Lark Hollow Paranormal Research. Richard picked up on
the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Richard, it’s Chelsea Keller.”
“Well, good morning, Chelsea. What can I do for you?”
“Uh, it’s about Tucker.” My nerves weakened as the word
loomed in my head. If I said it out loud, somehow it would make it
more real. “I think — I think something might have happened to him
at the investigation of the Johanssons’ house.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been acting weird. I think … something might have
attached to him.”
Richard drew in his breath. “Chelsea, this is a very serious
assumption. I’m going to need to know why you feel this way. Do
you have time to come over today?”
I had class that night, but Tucker’s well-being was just
slightly more of a priority. “I can come after work. Around six?”
“No problem. We’ll see you then.”
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Richard and Daisy both sat down and listened to my story. I
fumbled a lot, especially the part about how he’d physically hurt me,
but Gunner told me they needed to know every last detail. Once I
was done, I felt like a balloon that someone had just popped as I sat
back against their dining room chair.
The couple looked at each other, then back at me. It was
Daisy who spoke first. “Okay, Chelsea. First of all, you were right
to come to us with this. I don’t think your theory is unwarranted.”
I’d never seen her look nervous before.
“Whatever was in the Johanssons’ house was definitely
dangerous. I’ve checked in with them twice since we’ve been there
and they’ve had no more activity. So it would make sense that the
entity attached itself to someone else. We can’t assume it’s a demon;
it might be some other inhuman spirit or just a really nasty human
spirit. But if it’s using Tucker, then we need to help him.” Richard’s
eyes were the color of tombstones.
“Human spirits can do that, too?” I asked.
He nodded. “If they’re strong enough. I think I’m going to
give my friend Craig a call. He’s a demonologist and he will be able
to tell us if he thinks he should come out for a visit or not based on
what you’ve described.”
Daisy raised her index finger. “Oh! Do you think we should
call Ethan and Susannah first? They’re good friends with Tucker.
Maybe they’ve noticed other strange things about him in the past
few weeks.”
Within the hour, Ethan and Susannah both showed up on the
doorstep. They walked inside looking thoroughly concerned. On the
phone, Daisy hadn’t told them exactly what was wrong, just that it
was very important.
The five of us sat down again around the dining room table.
Normally, Susannah would greet me with a hug, but she barely even
looked at me when she took the seat beside me.
Richard looked to me, and I relayed the story again, this time
exempting the part about the violence. Tucker’s best friends didn’t
need to hear about our sex life gone horribly wrong. They weren’t
the ones deciding if we should call an exorcist or not.
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“Before we call in a demonologist, we want to know if either
of you has noticed anything strange about Tucker lately.” Daisy
turned her intense stare on each of them.
“Now that you mention it, kind of.” Ethan pushed one side
of his long blond hair behind his ear. “We went out the other night
and he had a few beers. I haven’t seen him drink beer since college.
And he was walking around with a lot of confidence. But I just
attributed that to being drunk.”
Four sets of eyes turned to Susannah. Her long, mascaraloaded
eyelashes hooded her eyes, which were focused in her lap.
When she noticed we were waiting, she glanced up and her face
instantly flushed. “Um … I don’t know.”
“Susannah, we need you to be honest,” Richard said.
She drew in a deep breath. “I guess just the same kind of
thing. He seems almost cocky. It’s not like him. And I, um, I noticed
the cuts on him, too.”
My heart sank lower and lower into my stomach with each
of their words that confirmed my suspicions.
Daisy and Richard bobbed their heads in unison. Then Daisy
looked at me. “Just so you know, Chelsea, even if Craig thinks it
would be a good idea to perform an exorcism, Tucker has to agree
to it. Craig can’t perform one unless Tucker wants him to.”
My lips felt like lead when I tried to move them. “What if he
doesn’t want to?”
“Then there’s nothing we can do except pray for him.”
I glanced at each of the faces around me. These were all
people who loved Tucker. How could they sit there and accept the
fact that if he didn’t want an exorcism, there was no way to help
him? Daisy and Richard hadn’t even seen that cold look in his eyes.
A look that probably belonged to the spirit that inhabited his body.
“Either way, I’ll call him. And if he wants to come down,
one of us should get in touch with Tucker.” Richard stroked his
beard. “We’ll need to tell him that he has a problem and we think he
should be cleansed.”
“Chelsea and Susannah are the best candidates for that,”
Ethan nominated. “He’ll trust them the most.”
178

Susannah’s expression instantly morphed into one of panic.
Was she that afraid of dealing with a demon? I felt a little better
knowing I wasn’t the only scaredy cat in the room.
“It’s definitely something better handled in person,” mused
Daisy. “But maybe we should leave a third person waiting in the car
just in case. If he is possessed, he’ll have even more strength than
normal.” I remembered the way his arm wouldn’t budge under my
grasp when I tried to stop him from burning his arm.
“I’ll go.” I nodded my head in case my words weren’t strong
enough to confirm my position. I didn’t want to have to see him like
that. I didn’t want to be around whatever might be inside his body.
But I would have done just about anything to have helped him.
“Susie?” Ethan reached out and touched Susannah’s arm.
Her thin eyebrows were curved downward, but she nodded.
“Okay,” she agreed. “For Tucker.”
“I’ll go call Craig right now, then.” Richard pushed back his
chair, stood up, and turned the corner into the kitchen.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the dining room table.
Susannah had resumed looking at her lap, Ethan was gazing with
sudden fascination at the chandelier, and Daisy was glancing around
at each of us in turn. When she grabbed my gaze with hers, she
reached across the mauve tablecloth and touched my hand. “He’ll
be okay, Chelsea. Tucker is strong. We’ve watched him grow since
he was just a kid.”
It took about half an hour for Richard to return, but when he
did, he told us that Craig had agreed to make the trip down from
Maine. He wasn’t entirely convinced that the case needed an
exorcism, but the claims warranted further investigation at the very
least. We just had to get Tucker to agree to meet with him.
“You two sure you’re up to it?” Richard asked.
I nodded, and Susannah gave a tight smile.
“I’ll be your backup,” Ethan volunteered. “When are you
free?”
I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible and get that
thing out of Tucker. Screw class. “Tomorrow night?” I asked.
179

“I’m off work at six,” he answered. “If you make it at seven,
I’m there.”
Susannah sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“I’ll call him as soon as I get home and make sure he’s free.”
I rose out of my chair. I didn’t want to talk to him in front of them.
I might say the wrong thing. Or I might say the right thing at the
wrong time. Either way, if I was going to ask him to hang out with
me after the events of the other night, I didn’t want anyone listening
in.
We said our goodbyes and filed out the door. As I reached
for the handle of my car door, Richard called to me from the
doorway, “Chelsea?”
I turned, expecting some more advice, some explanation as
to how to handle so delicate a situation.
“Good luck.”
180

Chapter Seventeen
On Tuesday night, Susannah and I tread heavily on the
wooden staircase leading up to the apartment. Ethan’s car was
parked around the block so Tucker wouldn’t notice and think we
were ganging up on him or staging an intervention. My heart was
down in my feet, weighing them down so much I thought the steps
might break beneath me.
The phone call had been surprisingly easy. He’d answered,
apologizing a thousand times, telling me he didn’t know what had
come over him. He had absolutely not meant to hit Trouble with the
car, and he didn’t know what made him burn himself with the
lighter. After he’d been sorry for about twenty minutes straight, I
finally got enough words in to tell him that it was okay and I needed
to talk to him. He said that was fine and I was welcome to come
over.
Susannah’s hands were in the pocket of her brown jacket
with the fuzzy white lining. She let me knock on the door and kept
glancing in the direction of the car, like she was contemplating
whether or not to bolt.
I had no idea what to expect, but when Tucker opened the
door, he looked completely normal again. His eyes were soft and
welcoming, and his smile was genuine as he stepped aside to let us
in. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming too, Susannah.”
“Missed you.” She wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
When I walked past him, I managed to meet his gaze for a
moment. There was pain smoldering in the dark brown depths, and
I wondered how much of that belonged to the real him and how
much was caused by the entity inhabiting him.
“So what’s up?” he asked as we all stood awkwardly in the
kitchen.
“We need to talk.” My voice was stronger than I’d expected
it to be. Maybe it was because Susannah felt so weak beside me.
Tucker nodded. “Okay. Do you want to come sit down?”
We followed him into the den with the big L-shaped black
couch. My heart, as leaden as it felt, fluttered a little as he sat in the
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exact same spot where we’d first kissed. I made a point of sitting
further away than necessary. Susannah sat on the other side of him.
“Remember how I told you that you needed to get help?” I
asked, glad I’d rehearsed this in front of the mirror before heading
over.
He nodded again. His face was drawn and the circles under
his eyes were heavier than usual.
“I think you might need a different kind of help now. We
think that something might have attached to you at the Johanssons’.
Some kind of spirit. You may or may not be aware of it.” My fingers
twined around the string of my hoodie.
Tucker glanced behind him at Susannah slowly, then back in
my direction. “So, you’re saying I’m possessed?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But we want to find out for sure. And
if you are, we want to help you.”
“What do you know about possession, Chelsea?” His eyes
started to gleam over with the familiar eerie hardness, and I looked
hurriedly at Susannah. She was staring at her lap again, not even
paying attention to me.
Tucker leaned forward and the couch creaked beneath his
weight. “Do you think I could possibly not know what’s happening
to me? Do you think I don’t sit here every day listening to the voice
in my head that doesn’t belong to me and not realize what’s
happening?”
“Stop that!” I exclaimed, scooting backwards so my tailbone
bumped against the arm of the couch. “Tucker, I’m trying to help
you. Fight it, please!”
“Fight what?” He stood up, holding his arms at his sides in
a way that made him seem much bigger than he really was. “Fight
this power? Fight the girls I’ve been fucking who came over at the
same time?” He threw another glance at Susannah, a grin spreading
over his face.
“Girls?” I repeated. My legs suddenly felt weak.
“She didn’t tell you?” Tucker turned around and stepped
over to Susannah. He reached down and grabbed her by the hair,
yanking her head back. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes.
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“She never wanted me her whole life, and now that I’ve got this
power, she can’t keep her hands off me.”
Planes were dropping tiny atom bombs in my stomach. My
skin was burning. That couldn’t be true. That couldn’t be why
Susannah was so quiet and refused to look at me. “Stop it!”
“Stop it!” He echoed, mocking me in a high-pitched voice.
He let go of her hair with a jerk and straightened up again. “Tucker
was weak. He let me in. He wanted me here.”
Chills coursed over my skin, clashing with the heat beneath
it and peppering me with goose bumps. “You’re lying. He’s stronger
than you.”
“No.” Those dead eyes locked on mine. “If he was, you’d be
talking to him right now. But all he can do is watch while I do
whatever I want.”
Before I knew what was happening, he moved forward faster
than humanly possible and grabbed the front of my hoodie. He
jerked me to my feet and I stumbled. I brought my hands against his
chest to steady myself, and he caught my wrists to hold them there.
“See? You still want me. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy
what I did to you a few weeks ago.” He leaned his face close to mine
so I could smell something metallic on his breath.
My cheeks flushed furiously and I squirmed, trying to break
free of his grip. But he held me like the stocks. He started to move
one of my hands lower until I felt the fabric of his jeans beneath my
palm.
“Susannah, call Ethan!” I shouted.
Tucker — or the thing in Tucker’s body — released my
hands so sharply that I fell down and landed hard on the wooden
floor. “Ethan’s here, too? Oh, good, he can watch what I’m going to
do to both of you.” His tongue snaked out and trailed along his lips.
“Tucker! I know you can hear me. Fight it, please!” I urged,
desperation chomping at the heels of my words.
“Shut up, Chelsea!” He lashed out a foot and caught me on
the side of the head. Pain burst out from my temple and spattered
black spots all over my vision. “He can hear you, but he can’t do
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anything. Go ahead, bring your exorcist here. See what happens to
him.”
“Go fuck yourself!” I screeched, climbing to my feet with
my hands pressed against my temple. It was wet beneath my palms
and there was a thundering throbbing inside my skull.
He surged forward and caught me around the waist, holding
my body against his. “Or I can fuck you again.” He glanced behind
him as I struggled uselessly. “Come on, Susie. You know you want
in on this. You’ve hooked up with girls before, haven’t you? You
look like you’d fuck anything with legs.”
I managed to look past him to see what she was doing.
Susannah was just staring at him, her makeup streaking down her
face with tears. Had she sent anything to Ethan?
“Let me go!” I jabbed my elbow into his stomach as hard as
I could. He might have been stronger, but his stomach wasn’t made
of iron. He let me go and bent over. The distraction was just enough
for me to whirl around and bring my sneaker up into his crotch. He
toppled over and fell to his knees on the floor.
I rushed past him and grabbed Susannah’s hand, jerking her
up off the couch. We were just about to the front door when Tucker’s
voice caught me by the heartstrings and pulled me back. “You don’t
want anything to happen to Gunner, do you Chelsea?”
Instantly I twisted my body around to stare at him. He was
climbing to his feet, using his coffee table for support. “You stay
away from my brother.”
“Who’s going to stop me? I know where you live. I know
he’s home alone plenty of the time,” he hissed.
“He’s not stupid. He knows what’s going on with you. He
won’t let you in.” I let go of Susannah’s hand so I didn’t crush it in
my suddenly-iron fingers.
Tucker let out a laugh that wasn’t his own. It sounded like a
cartoon hyena. “Please. I don’t need him to let me in. I can break a
window. I can break down a door. I can hurt him in ways you’ve
never even imagined.”
“Why? What do you want?” My blood was pumping in my
ears so hard I could barely hear myself speak.
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“I don’t want anything. I want to use this body until I run it
into the ground. I want to experience all the thrills of a solid form.”
He was walking towards us now, so I started backing closer to the
door. One hand in my pocket pressed the call button, which was
already on Ethan’s number.
“If you touch my brother, I’ll kill you,” I spat. “I don’t care
if you are in Tucker’s body.”
“Right. Like you did after I hurt your dog.” A horrific grin
spread across his face. “Did he make it? I thought I hit him hard
enough to kill him, but apparently that rat is resilient.”
I turned around and reached for the door handle, but Tucker
grabbed my other wrist again and pulled me back. He brought his
nose centimeters from mine, so all I could see were those
bottomless, empty eyes. “You can leave, but you’re not safe. No one
you love is safe. And the more you fight me, the worse it will get.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I lied.
“You’re even stupider than I thought.” He grabbed my other
wrist and pushed me against the old fashioned wallpaper. My
tailbone collided with a wooden beam and I winced. “And weak. So
weak. You try to be strong, but you’re nothing but a coward, Chelsea
Keller. You have so much to lose. I will break you so easily.”
I tried to bring my knee up again, but he blocked me with his
own. I glared up at him, my insides smoldering with fury that he
dare hurt Tucker and my dog and threaten my little brother. He was
ticking off the list of everyone I loved. I stared into those
emotionless eyes, searching for any trace of the man they belonged
to. Even though I couldn’t find him, I hoped he would see me trying
desperately to throw him a rope.
Suddenly, Tucker resurfaced. The adoration and pain
returned to his eyes, and the strength left his hands. He let go of my
wrists immediately and took a step back. “Chelsea ... I’m so sorry.
Please ...”
“Oh, Tucker.” Tears instantly burned in my eyes. “I love
you. I swear to God I’ll save you.”
In another instant, he was gone, and I was slammed back
against the wall with my wrists pinned onto it with superhuman
185

strength. “I love you,” the spirit mocked. “You shouldn’t have lied
to him, little girl. I’ll never let you save him.”
At that moment, something crashed over Tucker’s head. He
released my wrists and I ducked under his arms as he turned around.
Susannah was standing there with her hands on the wooden knife
holder from the counter. The collar of her jacket was soaked with
tears.
I wrenched open the door, grabbed her arm again, and hauled
her out after me. We bolted down the stairs just as Ethan came
running around the corner. “Go!” I yelled at him, waving my arm
for effect. Our feet pounded hard against the sidewalk.
As we turned the corner, I glanced over my shoulder one
more time. Tucker was standing on the top step, leaning on the
railing, and smiling like a wolf that had just cornered its prey.
Craig elected to come down anyway. After we played back
the recorder that had been in Susannah’s pocket for Daisy and
Richard to hear, they decided we definitely needed to get a
professional on the job. I’d made Ethan stop at my house to pick up
Gunner, and the six of us were huddled at the usual dining room
meeting place once again. I hadn’t wanted to let him hear anything
on that recording, but he’d insisted that if I was going to pull him
out of the house for his own safety, he needed to know why.
He held my hand under the table as we sat in silence. It was
going to take Craig until tomorrow night to drive down. We had no
idea what Tucker was going to try in the meantime after all the
threats he’d made. Listening to them again had sent freezing icicles
all up and down my spine.
“Should we call the police?” Ethan asked.
“No,” Susannah spoke up. It was the first time she’d opened
her mouth since we left his house. “If we call them, they’ll arrest
him. And then we won’t be able to help him.”
I gazed at her, my stomach lurching as I wondered when
she’d been sleeping with Tucker. Wherever he was inside his own
body, did he like it?
Stop, Chelsea. Don’t let that thing into your head, too.
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But I couldn’t help but feel stung that Susannah would have
gone for it. She wasn’t possessed. She had nothing moving her but
her own free will. I thought we’d been building some kind of
friendship, but apparently, it ended when a suddenly-confident guy
was involved. I felt a foreign pang of longing for Michelle.
“You’re all welcome to stay here tonight,” Richard offered.
“What about Dad?” Gunner asked. “He’ll come home at 4am
and I don’t want him to find Tucker waiting for him.”
“We can’t tell him not to stay there. We’d have way too
much explaining to do.” I dropped my forehead onto my free hand,
which was propped up by an elbow on the table.
“What if we stay with you?” Ethan asked. “We can all camp
out or something.”
I glanced at Susannah, suddenly not wanting her in my
house. Ever. She wouldn’t look at me and now I finally understood
why.
Ethan caught my look and nodded. “Oh. Okay. Well, how
about I call Jamie? He’s young enough for it not to be weird if he
stays over. He and I can hang out with you guys tonight. Strength in
numbers, you know?”
I glanced at Gunner for confirmation. I didn’t know Jamie
that well, but Ethan had a point with the age factor. My brother
shrugged. “Sure. Works for me.”
Ethan pulled out his phone and went into the kitchen to make
the phone call. Once the sound of his voice rose from the other room,
Richard leaned forward.
“Are you two, honestly now, okay after what happened
today? Chelsea, your head looks like it should be okay, but if you
want to go get it checked out, I’d be more than happy to go with
you.”
I had almost forgotten about my head in all of the emotional
trauma that was flying around inside me. Now that he mentioned it,
the cut gave a painful throb. That was going to turn all kinds of pretty
colors in the next week or so. “I’m okay. Thanks. My pupils are the
same size, right? No concussion.”
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“And Susannah, what about you? Do you want to stay here
tonight? You probably shouldn’t be alone, either.” Richard turned
his attention to her.
Gunner squeezed my hand.
“Okay,” she agreed quietly.
Just then, Ethan returned to the room, replacing his cell
phone in his pocket. “Jamie said he’ll meet us over at your place. I
didn’t tell him what was going on, just that we had some paranormal
chaos and needed to keep a lookout tonight.”
I released Gunner’s hand and stood up, only too eager to get
out of the room with Susannah. “Thanks. Can we head back there
now? I’m pretty wiped.” My brother followed my lead to accentuate
my action.
We thanked Daisy and Richard and headed back to our own
house. Once we got inside, we carefully went around to each room
together and checked for signs of forced entry. All seemed to be in
order, and Ethan said he doubted Tucker would make a move so
quickly after the showdown today anyway. We set up all three of
our sleeping bags on the floor in my room, and when Jamie got there,
we all hunkered down with Anchorman on my laptop.
Around 1am, Jamie, who had had the least stressful day,
volunteered to take first watch if the rest of us wanted to get some
sleep. Gunner, whose head had been dropping onto my shoulder for
the past half hour, agreed readily and curled up under my covers.
I didn’t want to turn the lights out, but when Ethan stretched
out on the sleeping bag by the door, I figured we didn’t have a choice
if we wanted to get any sleep. I flipped the switch and retreated to
the sleeping bag beside my bed, alongside Jamie’s.
“Is it okay for me to ask what’s going on?” he asked.
I rolled onto my side so I could face him. “Remember the
Johansson case? You weren’t there, but I’m sure you heard about
what happened that made us run out of there.”
He nodded. The street light outside was reflected in his wide
blue eyes. “Yeah. Tucker got really ... Oh, no. Something happened
to him.”
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“Whatever was there went home with him.” I turned over
onto my back again and stared up at the ceiling. “Sometime you can
listen to the recording we left at Daisy and Richard’s from what
happened today.”
Jamie was quiet for a while, and when glanced his way again,
he had his knee against his chest, his elbow draped over it, and was
staring out the window. “I can’t believe that happened to Tucker,
out of all of us.”
My heart had never felt so fragile in my entire life. “Yeah.
Me either.”
“Chelsea?” Gunner’s voice floated over the side of the bed.
“What’s up, Gun?” I asked.
“I just want you to know you’re not a coward. You’re not
any of those things he called you.”
And here comes Gunner Keller with the band-aid to the
wounded heart. “You mean that?”
“Dude. You were terrified of this stuff, and you did it
anyway. And now you’re in the face of what you were always afraid
of, and you’re not running away. Cowards would be halfway to
Florida by now.”
And cue waterworks. I blinked furiously to keep them away.
“And you told him you’d kill him for me. I mean, that was
really brave. And nice, I think. Thank you for that.”
Okay, surrender the resistance. The tears that had been
threatening for so long finally crept their way down my cheeks.
“Thank you, Gunner.”
“These things prey on your weaknesses. But you’re stronger
than it. And you know it. Don’t let it get to you.” His voice started
to fade out at the last sentence. He was quiet for a few moments, and
then the soft sound of his heavy breathing filled the silence of my
room.
I rolled over onto my side again. Jamie wasn’t looking at me,
but he was smiling.
189

Chapter Eighteen
Gunner and I went to Richard and Daisy’s house at five the
next day. Ethan and Susannah were already seated at the table when
we walked in, next to a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair
I could only assume was Craig. He reached out and shook my hand,
and then my brother’s, before we sat down.
“I think we should go to his house again,” he mused. “It
seems as though this demon has extreme control over Tucker.
However, judging by his reaction when he was released
momentarily, he may have the willpower necessary to perform a
successful exorcism.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Ethan asked.
“Whoever feels they should or want to be there. I’d prefer at
least two others to come with me; I never perform one alone.” Craig
looked gravely at me.
I nodded. Gunner’s words had encouraged me, as well as the
desperation with which the genuine Tucker had looked at me the day
before. I could handle it. “I’m there.”
“I could go, too,” Ethan volunteered.
“Me, too,” Richard added.
“And me,” Gunner piped up.
“Gunner.” I glared at him sharply.
“Fine.”
Daisy chuckled. “When you’re eighteen, Gunner, you’re
more than welcome to join our group. We could use a head like
yours.”
He lit up like a K2 meter.
“So the four of us will go over there as soon as possible.
When will he be home?” Craig asked.
“Tonight? The End Shelf closed about when we got here.
He’ll be home now,” I spoke up. Assuming he went to work at all. I
had no idea how he was spending his days. Apparently he’d spent a
good amount of time with Susannah and I hadn’t had a clue.
Craig nodded and rose from his seat at the head of the table.
“Good. I’ll go and get my things together and we will head over
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there around eight. Ethan, Richard, Chelsea, you all make sure you
thoroughly ground yourselves. I don’t know how tonight is going to
affect any of us, but you need to make sure you’re protected.”
Daisy ordered a few pizzas for us, and while we waited for
them to arrive, we moved into their living room to put on the TV
and pretend we weren’t terrified about what was going to happen in
a few hours. Susannah retreated to whatever room she’d stayed in
the night before, which I was grateful for. It would have been way
too hard to ground and focus while I was staring at her.
After we’d downed a few slices each, Craig came around to
each of us with a cross on a thick string. “If you don’t believe, then
this won’t have any power. But if you believe in the strength of the
Lord, it will keep the devil and his minions at bay.”
“Are you Christian, Craig?” asked Ethan.
“No, I’m not. But I’ve seen too much to kid myself into
believing there’s not something bigger than us working out there.”
Craig placed the wooden cross in his palm.
I closed my hand around the cross once he handed it to me.
I was sure what I believed in, but I definitely put some kind
of stock in the crosses and something bigger. I draped it around my
neck and tucked it inside my shirt. It made a weird bulge beneath
the green striped fabric, but I felt some comfort in feeling it resting
against my chest.
“I have these for you, too, Chels.” Gunner reached into his
pocket and produced two big chunks of black stone. “They’re
obsidian. They repel negative energy.”
“Where did you get these?” I asked. The stones were hot
when he dropped them into my palm.
“I bought them when Mom left. Don’t worry, I cleaned them.
They’re fine to use.”
This immense affection for my brother overtook me and I
pulled him in for a hug. “You’re the best little brother ever.”
“Stop. Don’t be weird.” He wriggled out of my grasp. “But
remember what I said, okay? You can do this.”
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After we were all effectively geared up, we loaded into
Craig’s car. They let me take the passenger seat, and as we
journeyed along the highway, our driver kept glancing over at me.
Finally, I asked, “What’s up?”
He smiled slightly. “I’m not exactly a sensitive person, but
I’ve learned a thing or two along the way. And you, my dear, have
quite a road ahead of you.”
“I do?” Way to shake up my protective barrier. You’ll be
fine, Chelsea. But it’s gonna be hard and you’ll cry a lot and
probably get hit in the temple a few more times.
“Yes. I’ll tell you about it later. Trust me, it’s a good thing.”
Feeling a little confused, and not very reassured by his last
comment, I turned my head to look out the window. I kind of wished
Gunner had come with us. If I hadn’t been so concerned with his
safety, of course. I reached into my pocket and held onto one of the
stones he’d given me.
We pulled up to the curb just outside the apartment. As far
as Craig was concerned, it didn’t matter if he saw us coming. He had
never met Tucker, so he wouldn’t have any knowledge of who he
was or what he was there for. Of course, he might have an idea, but
his impulsive need to cause chaos among the living had a good
chance of overwhelming any caution.
Craig went first, followed by me, then Ethan, with Richard
bringing up the rear. We filed up the familiar wooden steps that
echoed hollowly every time one of our feet came down on them. The
cold air crept around us and whispered eerily against my face.
Strangely enough, I was very calm inwardly. I knew this was
something I had to do, for Tucker.
Once we reached the top of the stairs, Craig knocked on the
door.
Yesterday, Tucker had answered almost instantly. Tonight,
there was no response. I glanced around to the street. His silver car
was right there, parked a few spots away. He had to be home. Unless
he’d walked somewhere. After all, the cold didn’t seem to bother
him anymore.
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When a few minutes had passed, Craig knocked again and
called, “Tucker?”
Still there was no answer. This sense of dread began
creeping up into my throat. The monster’s words echoed in my
mind. “You can leave, but you’re not safe. No one you love is safe.
And the more you fight me, the worse it will get.”
I reached forward instinctively and turned the handle. The
door opened easily and swung inward with a slow creak. The lights
were off inside, and I could only see the shadows of the furniture
and cabinets in the kitchen.
“Tucker?” I called. Still no answer. Maybe he really wasn’t
home. Or maybe he was lying in wait somewhere.
Craig stepped inside before me. He glanced around in the
darkness. No one came rushing out at him. “Tucker?” he tried again.
I stepped hesitantly through the doorway behind him. He
continued moving forward as I reached behind me for the light
switch. I heard a dull thud as he walked into something in the dark.
Then my hands found the switch and light flooded the kitchen as I
turned around just in time to see what Craig had bumped into.
I saw his feet first. His black sneakers, connected to a pair of
jeans, which led up to his Boondock Saints shirt. And above that
was his head, bent horribly sideways to make room for the rope
around his neck.
Instantly I turned around to run out the door. Ethan and
Richard blocked my way, staring open-mouthed at Tucker’s body
like it was some kind of circus sideshow. I bent over and all the pizza
came up, spattering on both of their shoes. They jumped to the side
and I bolted past them, hurrying down the stairs and stopping when
I reached the bottom to empty my stomach completely.
My brain was numb. It didn’t know how to process what I’d
just seen. Yesterday, I’d been talking to Tucker, or the thing that was
controlling him. He was alive enough to kick me in the temple. And
now, only hours later ...
“I’ll never let you save him.”
He’d been threatening to come after my family and destroy
what I loved, but he’d gone with the easiest option. Unless Tucker
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had seized control of his body long enough to rid himself of the
demon in the only way he knew how.
No. Stop. It couldn’t have come to that.
Could it?
Too late. The demon was right. I’d lied to Tucker. I didn’t
save him.
Tears were freezing against my face in the cold air. I felt
arms around me, and I didn’t know who they belonged to, but I
didn’t care. My Tucker, who had been fine only a month ago, had
fallen victim to a monster and it had killed him. I was never going
to hear his voice again. No more witty banter inside The End Shelf.
What would happen to his store now, anyway? What would
happen to his apartment?
What would happen to the demon? Where would it go?
“Chelsea, you need to breathe.” Richard’s voice infiltrated
the horrors in my mind, the image of Tucker’s body that was
cemented there. I caught hold of it and let it pull me out of the
depths.
The tears didn’t stop, though. I turned around and collapsed
against his chest. “We were too late,” I blubbered.
“I’m so sorry.” Ethan’s voice was a whisper, and when I
opened one eye I saw his face was as wet as mine.
Craig stood grimly by, a cell phone at his ear as he described
to the police what we’d just found. When he hung up, he announced,
“They’ll be here soon. We need to wait a few minutes.” He turned
his dark eyes on me. “Chelsea, it’s going to be okay.”
We didn’t get back to Richard and Daisy’s house until after
midnight. Gunner was passed out on the couch, Susannah was
nowhere to be found, and Daisy was waiting on the stairs. Richard
had called her to tell her what had happened, and she rushed into his
arms the moment we walked through the door.
Ethan kept his hand on my shoulder, but the tears had dried
up after talking to the police. They handled it so professionally, like
Tucker was just another number in the multitudes of young people
who committed suicide every year. The whole event was just so void
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of emotion it pretty much anchored me back to the ground and let
me get control again.
I sat down on the couch beside Gunner, and he blinked
sleepily at me. When he saw my face clearly, his eyes shot open and
he jumped up. “What happened?”
“He’s dead. Tucker’s dead.” My voice was the product of a
hollow chest. Wherever my heart had gone, it was buried
somewhere so far inside me I couldn’t feel it anymore. It couldn’t
take all the sadness it was drowning in earlier.
The way Gunner’s face broke almost found it again, but I
swallowed hard to keep it away as he fell into my arms.
A few days later, I was dressed in a black dress with dark
purple flowers on the bottom and standing beside a casket with two
people I had never met before. The woman had gray hair tied back
into a loose bun and the man was tall and thin and looked so much
like his son it was unreal. Tucker would have grown up to be a really
handsome older man.
His mom gripped my hand from time to time, as if she found
some comfort in touching the person Tucker had been closest to
before he’d died.
A lot of people walked up to me and hugged me. Most of
them I didn’t know, but it was wonderful to feel the kindness of all
the friends he’d made along the way. And I did recognize Anthony,
Adrian, Brad, Jamie, Richard, Daisy, Susannah, Ethan, and the rest
of the members of Lark Hollow Paranormal Research. And Gunner,
of course, but he was there for the entirety of both the viewings.
Whenever I needed a little strength, I’d glance his way and he would
give me a sad smile of encouragement.
Whenever I looked in the direction of the body in the casket,
I was amazed yet again by how peaceful he looked. His eyes were
closed, and I found myself longing for him to just open them again
and warm me with all the love they held. I knew it would have been
safe; there was no more demon in there now. But there was no more
Tucker, either. Just an empty vessel, with two souls gone at the same
time.
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No one in the whole room, aside from LHPR, understood
what had happened. They never would. We didn’t want to deface
his memory with ideas of monsters and possession. Plus, they
wouldn’t have believed us, anyway.
I’d never had to bury anyone before. Watching dirt pour over
the closed casket, covering up any last hopes of seeing him again
forever, was almost too much. Mr. Hamilton broke down and wept
on his wife’s shoulder. I took Gunner’s hand and felt it shaking
along with mine.
Once the ceremony was over, people broke into little groups
to reminisce more about the late Tucker Hamilton. A few people
were starting to laugh at happy memories. Some of them were still
crying. I just wanted to step away for a minute. It was kind of hard
to breathe in the cemetery.
Gunner stuck with Ethan, who was talking with Tucker’s
aunt. I wove through a few headstones to stand apart from everyone
else. My shoulders felt incredibly heavy, and they sagged with the
weight as I read the inscription on Martha Giordano’s grave. Ever a
mother, ever a saint.
“I think what they put on Tucker’s was better.” The voice
startled me, and I turned around to find Jamie standing with his
hands awkwardly in the pockets of his suit. He smiled shyly, like he
wasn’t sure if it was okay. “‘Life is not forever, love is.’”
I offered the biggest smile I could muster in return, which
was admittedly pretty pathetic, but I tried. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“Are you holding up okay?” he asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. “I guess. I mean, as okay as I can
be, you know? It’s not exactly a birthday party with clowns and
balloon animals.”
He winced. Okay, note to self. Humor: not really appropriate
at funerals. “I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need anything,
you can call me. Anytime, okay? I, uh ... I lost my dad last year. So
I sort of get what this is like.”
His words reached my heart, even where I had buried it deep
in my chest. “Thank you.” This time my smile was real.
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He must have understood that being alone had its importance
in this process, too, because he went, “Okay. Well, I’ll see you
around.” And with that, he retreated through the field of gray stones,
back to the throng of people. The back of his suit was tucked into
his pants on one side.
I continued moving among the graves, reading the names of
loved ones that others had lost before me. The next time someone
approached me, he was leaning against a tree in front of me, so I saw
him before he could startle me.
“Hi, Craig,” I greeted him.
“Hi, Chelsea.” His face was grave as ever. “I know now isn’t
exactly the best time, but I’ll be going back to Maine tomorrow. I
wanted to make sure we got to finish the conversation we started in
the car.”
“About the road I have ahead of me?” I asked. Yes, good
timing, sir.
“Yes. It’s important for you to know this. You’ve
encountered something malicious very early in your paranormal
career. Most people will go years without ever coming this close to
one of them. When one is aware you got this close to them, they’ll
all know.”
I glanced nervously over my shoulder. “Look, Craig, I
appreciate it, but I’m kind of freaked already by all this …”
“And you’re stronger than them.” I turned back to him. “Not
many people in the world have what it takes to battle these things,
but you do. You’re a force that will send them running. Don’t ever
lose sight of that. No matter how dark it gets around you, you will
light the way.”
His words placed themselves heavily on the weight already
lying across my shoulders. “So I have a responsibility, then? I’m
going to encounter this the rest of my life?”
Craig nodded. “Yes. But as long as you continue to grow,
and strengthen yourself, and be aware, you’ll always come out on
top. And hold on to your fear. You may not like it, but it’s what
separates you from them. I could feel your light from all the way
across this graveyard.”
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“That’s a little cheesy,” I cracked, obviously not
remembering my previous note to self.
Craig smiled for the first time since I’d met him. “You thrive
on cheesy. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“I have to ask, though. If I’m this force to be reckoned with
or whatever, then why couldn’t ...” I glanced back over my shoulder
at the group of black-clad people gathered around Tucker’s grave.
“Why couldn’t I save him?”
“You can’t save everyone.” His voice was quiet, much less
harsh than usual. “All you can do is try. And you did all that you
could for Tucker. This was too much to handle the very first time
you encountered it.”
“Well, thank you for the heads up, in any case. At least now
I can be prepared for what’s going to come knocking on my door
eventually.” I tried to straighten up, but that burden was so damn
heavy.
“That will never get lighter. But you will get stronger and it
will be easier to carry.” He leaned down and gave me a one-armed
sideways hug. “Take care, Chelsea. And remember I’m not too far
if you need my help again. I’d be happy to work with you anytime.”
“Thank you.” I squeezed back and then he, too, turned away
and disappeared into the headstones.
The days turned into weeks, and Craig turned out to be right.
Every day that I kept my head up, the weight on my shoulders got a
little easier to bear. I was able to let my heart peek out of its hiding
place every now and then. Work and school kept me busy, as well
as spending time with Gunner. The group asked me once or twice if
I wanted to come to a meeting or go on an investigation, but I wasn’t
ready to head back into the fray just yet. That might take a little
while, but I knew after my talk with the demonologist that
eventually it would find me, even if I wasn’t in the mood.
The only things that didn’t go away were the nightmares.
Each night, without fail, I’d snap up in bed wide awake after some
morbid dream about fighting with demon Tucker. Usually, I would
be the one to wrap the noose around his neck. Sometimes I got
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creative and used a knife. Once I even burned him with a kitchen
lighter. And in the moments before he died, I could hear his voice
again. “Chelsea ... I’m so sorry. Please ...”
One night I woke up from a particularly freaky one that
involved a push down those wooden steps. Instantly my fingers went
to the thin black rope around my neck and closed around the chunk
of obsidian at its base. As I peeled my hair away from my face and
tried to catch my breath, I glanced around the room. Something was
different. Something was ... off.
Then my eyes fell on the shadow in the corner. My heart
instantly screeched to a stop in my chest. I didn’t have time to ask
who was there before the faint words reached my ears.
“Chelsea ... I’m so sorry. Please ...”
199