What's a Ghoul to Do? (16 page)

"Hey," I said, looking anywhere but at him.

He reached forward and ran a finger along my wet hairline. "Been out for a run?"

I snapped my head away. "I need a shower," I said, and moved around him.

"I'll say." He chuckled.

I turned back and gave him a frigid look before walking to the bathroom at the end of the hall. "Are you still mad at me?" he asked.

I didn't answer him. Instead I went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me without looking back. "Jerk," I muttered.

After taking a steamy hot shower and dressing, I headed downstairs. Gilley was still at the kitchen table, slurping coffee and reading the local paper. "Hey," I said as I got a plate from the buffet Helen had set up.

"Morning, sunshine," Gilley said. "Sleep well?"

"Pretty good."

"Want to tell me why you're in a mood?"

"Who says I'm in a mood?" I asked, grabbing some toast.

"You never run like that unless something or someone has pissed you off. I'm guessing it has to do with the fact that a certain someone rolled in here this morning after apparently being out all night?"

"I hate that you're so freakishly perceptive," I grumbled, sitting down.    '

"It's a gift," Gilley said, setting down the paper while he waited for me to talk.

"Did you ask where he'd gone?" I asked him, taking a bite of bacon.

"Steven? No. It's none of my business," Gilley said.

"I saw him," I admitted. "I was out running and saw his car parked in some driveway. And I may have paused to check it out and caught him and that pretty waitress from the grinder restaurant coming out the door all friendly-like."

Gilley arched an eyebrow. "Define friendly."

"They had their arms wrapped around each other."

"And—I'm just guessing here—but my bet is that you two got a little friendly with each other last night in the restaurant parking lot, too?"

"How could you know that?" I demanded.

"I was doing a little flirt-flirt with one of the waiters inside the restaurant after you two left. We talked for a good fifteen minutes, and when I came out you two were just pulling out of the lot. Plus you had that look on your face," he said smugly.

"What look?"

"That 'Oh, no! Gilley's going to know what I've been doing' look."

"Whatever," I said, waving my hand and trying to brush the whole thing off. "It's no big deal. He's a player. I could've told you that when we started this gig."

"But you like him," Gilley said to me.

"You like whom?" Steven said from behind me.

Gilley and I both jumped and then gave a panicked look to each other. Gil saved the day when he said, "Bradley. This guy I just started dating. I introduced him to M J. the other morning and I was getting her opinion about him."

"Do you know what I think?" Steven said, taking his seat next to me.

Discreetly I edged my chair a little farther away, while Gilley said, "No, but I'm thinking you're about to tell us."

"I think you should date whomever you want. Don't wait for someone to give you the okay. If you like this guy, then that's all that matters."

I rolled my eyes and set my fork and knife down. I'd lost my appetite. "Thank you, Dr. Phil," I said, and got up from the table. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll try to take a little nap before we hit the house later on."

As I made my way up the stairs, I could hear Steven ask Gilley, "What's her problem?"

I didn't wait to listen for Gilley's response. Instead I made my way back to my room and plopped down face-first on the bed. "What's up, Doc?" my bird chirped from his perch by the window.

Turning to look at him, I said, "Men suck."

Doc whistled and cocked his head. There was a pause as I saw him trying to work out the sound. After a moment he repeated, "Men suck!"

"Great," I mumbled as I turned my face back into the pillow.

The crashing sound of thunder woke me. That, coupled with Doc's frantic squawking. "Help! I've been shot!" he said as a loud crack echoed across the sky. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and got up quickly. Doc hated thunderstorms, and I'd forgotten to take him away from the window.

"Shhhh," I cooed to him, moving his cage across the room. My bedroom was dim, and I could hear the pounding sound of rain against the windowpane. "It's okay, Doc. You'll be okay."

"I've been shot!" he said, and flapped his wings. He was clearly agitated, since he used that phrase whenever any loud noise scared him.

"You have not been shot, Doc. Come on now; it's okay. Just a little storm, nothing to be frightened about." Behind me we saw a flash, followed by the sound of a loud rumble, closer than the last one. Doc flapped his wings and turned in a circle on his perch.

Just then there was a knock on my door. "M.J.?" I heard Gilley call from the hallway.

"Doc's been shot!" my parrot squawked. "Gilley! Doc needs help!"

Gilley opened the door and came in. "He upset by the storm?"

"Yeah. I forgot to take him out of the window before I fell asleep."

"YMCA!" Doc sang, fluttering his tail when Gilley came over. "Doc's a pretty boy!"

"I came up to get you from your nap," Gilley said. "It's midafternoon, and the storm started early. I think it's a good time to head over to the lodge."

"Sure. Let me just get Doc settled and I'll meet you downstairs." After Gilley left the room I stroked and talked softly to my bird until he settled down. When he stopped squawking at every little burst of thunder, I put a cover over his cage, grabbed my duffel bag, and tiptoed out of the room.

I found Helen back in the kitchen again and asked her if she'd look in on Doc a little later. She happily agreed.

I met Gil and Steven on the front porch. It was raining something fierce, and the storm showed no signs of subsiding. "Ready?" Steven asked me. I nodded. Gil winked at me and took off down the steps in the direction of the van. I was about to follow him when Steven grabbed my arm. "Why are you giving me this cold elbow?" he asked.

"Say what?" I said, trying to ease my arm out of his grip.

He let go of my arm and said, "You're avoiding me. Why?"

"Ah," I said as I realized what he meant. "The cold
shoulder.
I've been giving you the cold shoulder."

"Yes, the cold elbow and the cold shoulder and the cold arm. Why have you been doing this?"

I stood there for a moment, wondering how to play it. Should I tell him the truth? Or avoid the fact that I'd seen him coming out of that house this morning? I opted for the latter. "I've been focusing on the job, that's all. Like I said, I can't afford to become distracted. You do want me to help your grandfather, don't you?"

Steven eyed me for a long couple of seconds. He wasn't buying it. I thought he was going to press the point, but instead he nodded and motioned for me to go ahead to the van.

I raced through the rain and got in with Gilley. "What was that all about?" he asked me.

"Nothing. Just laying the ground rules again. Come on," I coaxed. "We know the way. Let's go."

Gilley shook his head as if to say,
I'll never understand women,
and pulled out of the driveway. For the most part we rode in silence to the house, only commenting here and there about the strength of the storm.

When we pulled into the long driveway, I could feel my adrenaline pumping the way it always did when I hunted ghosts. It was partly the thrill of the chase, partly the challenge of making contact, and partly the satisfaction of helping a trapped spirit cross over.

As we got closer to the house, I noticed something odd. Gilley saw it too and asked, "Whose car is that?" before I had a chance.

"Don't know. But I hope Steven didn't think bringing in reinforcements was a good idea."

"Reinforcements? What kind of reinforcements would he bring?"

"Good point," I said, still looking at the car. As we pulled up beside it, we could see there was no one inside. Just then I looked up to see a few lights on inside the Sable house.

Gil parked next to the car, and we waited for Steven to pull in before getting out and making a dash to the front steps. "Who's here?" I asked, shaking the rain off me.

"Maria," Steven said.

"The housekeeper?" I asked.

Steven nodded, and Gil asked, "What's she doing here?"

"I'm not knowing," Steven said as he tried the door. It was open and we walked into the front hall. "Maria?" Steven called.

We waited a few beats and finally heard, "Coming!" from somewhere on the second floor. We watched the stairs until a lovely-looking older woman with black hair and brown eyes appeared at the top of the stairway. She carried a book and a blue mohair afghan in one hand, and with the other she gripped the railing as she made her way down the stairs. "Steven!" she said when she saw him. "Hello! I didn't expect to see you here. How've you been?" she asked as she walked forward with a pronounced limp.

"I'm fine," he said as she opened her arms wide to embrace him. "What are you doing here?" he asked her after they'd given each other a firm hug.

"Oh, it's silly, really," she said, a flush going to her cheeks. "After your grandfather died I was so upset, just had a terrible time. And I left behind some of my personal belongings. This is my grandmother's afghan," she said, holding it up for us to see. "I wanted to come back and get it before you sold this place off."

"Who says I'm selling?" Steven asked her.

"You want to keep it?" she asked. "Well, that's wonderful! Oh, Steven, I know Andrew would be so proud of you."

"Thank you. How is your hip? I noticed your limp is worse."

She waved him off. "Now that I don't have all these stairs to climb, it's not so bad. Just hurts more when it rains."

Steven nodded. "There may be some arthritis setting in. An old injury like that can be prone to arthritis."

Maria said, "Can you believe it's been twenty-five years since I took that tumble? That was the first year we had you here with us, and you were such a good boy to help me with all my chores when my hip was so sore. I should have known better too. These stairs have always given me a run for my money—I've slipped down them more than once, you know."

"You should be taking the elevator," Steven said.

"That old bucket of bolts? Naw, the thing takes forever and makes far too much noise. I'm much more careful now in my old age. Don't want to end up like my sister. She spends most of her time in bed nursing a bad knee."

"Are you two getting along well together?"

"Yes, yes. We need each other now that we're the only family left."

"Good to know you're with family," Steven said kindly. Then, remembering us, he said, "I'd like you to meet Miss M. J. Holliday and Gilley …"

"Gillespie," Gil said, and extended his hand forward. Maria shook our hands and said, "Pleased to meet you."

"They are here to do some busting," Steven said with a smile, like he was Mr. Cool.

"Some what?" Maria asked.

"We're ghostbusters," Gilley said proudly. "Dr. Sable here says that you've had some strange occurrences happening in this house, and M.J. and I are here to get to the bottom of them."

Maria looked worried. "Is that why there aren't any televisions in the bedrooms?"

"All of the TVs have been moved to the basement," I said. "They were becoming distracting."

Maria's pensive expression didn't change. Turning to Steven she said, "You'll be careful, won't you, Steven?"

"Of course, Maria, of course."

Maria nodded, her eyes large and sorrowful. Reaching up to touch Steven's face she said, "You look so much like Andrew, you know?" Steven beamed; then Maria said, "Let me get out of your way, then." She tucked the book she'd been carrying under her arm as, on Steven's arm, she limped to the door.

"Good to see you, Maria," Steven said, and the two hugged again.

"Nice woman," Gilley said when she left.

"She is," Steven said. "She was so upset when my grandfather died. It's good to see her smile again."

Clapping my hands together to get their attention, I said, "Okay, gentlemen, time to focus. Gilley, let's take a look at what the monitors recorded first."

The three of us moved over into the doorway that led to the study where we'd propped the monitors. They had been programmed to pick up the readings from the spectrometer, the thermometer, and the night-vision camera we'd mounted in the master bedroom. As we got close to them my heart sank; the monitors were off. Gil noticed it too and moved around to the plugs, which were removed from the socket they had been plugged into.

"Crap," he said, holding up the plugs for us to see.

"Plug them back in, Gil, and see if they got anything."

Gilley did, and slowly the monitors and the DVR came to life. Gilley hit the rewind button and almost instantly it clicked, then stopped. "That is not a good sound, I'm thinking," Steven said.

Gil hit the play button to reveal about ten recorded seconds of still-empty bedroom, and then all we got was fuzz.

"So basically, the moment we hit the button and stepped outside the plugs came out of the socket," I said, disappointment evident in my voice.

"Now what?" Steven asked.

Irritated with the wasted effort, I turned to Gilley and said, "Buddy, can you bring the floor plan we drew for the baseline to the kitchen and we'll talk about roles and responsibilities?"

Gilley saluted and clicked his heels. "Aye-aye,
Capitán!"

"Can you please leave the sarcasm behind?" I asked as I led the way to the kitchen.

"It's not in my nature," Gilley said, picking up the floor plan and following after us.

"Here's good," I said as we reached the breakfast table in the kitchen. Gilley spread out the floor plan and I got out my pen. "This is the area I think we should start in," I said, circling the master bedroom. "We definitely want to set up a vigil in there for a while. I'll open up my intuition and see if Andrew wants to make contact. I also think it's a good idea to spend some time here." I circled the guest bedroom on the third floor. "And here," I added as I circled the library.