Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,19

any articles or interviews indicating the house had been read before.

“No, you’re the first. I stopped in for coffee at West Side Sweets a few weeks back. A friend of mine kept raving about the food and service. I took a peek in the psychic shop after I’d eaten and thought everyone seemed nice and…” Marc trailed off, biting his lower lip.

“Nice and sane,” Cope said. It wasn’t a question. Rolling his eyes at Jude, he stepped through the front door of The Beecher House.

Jude took a deep breath. When he’d set up the appointment to tour the house, he’d told Marc that it would be helpful to have Peg there since she was the one who’d experienced the haunting. Marc deliberately keeping her away amid talks of a psychiatric institution if there was no spirit in the house had his nerves on edge. He hoped the investigation inside the house went more smoothly.

Something inside Jude told him it would not.

9

Copeland

Cope found himself wishing he and Jude had called in sick today. What the hell were they doing here if this client wasn’t truly interested in solving this haunting? Marc hadn’t had any encounters with this spirit, but he was keeping them from meeting with the person who had. What the actual fuck?

Cope had been feeling off from the moment Jude had pulled up in front of the house. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on what was triggering this low-level anxiety. From the sidewalk, there had been no evidence of a spirit, malicious or otherwise, but that wasn’t a surprise to Cope. Not all spirits rushed to him, begging for his help. Other spirits had their own agendas to stick with.

The house was gorgeous with its glossy wooden plank floors and high ceilings. There was a grand staircase in front of him leading to the second level, with rooms off to either side. The space to the left was a formal living room done in period furniture, while the room to the right was a modern living space with leather sofas and a wide-screen television. He walked into the period room first. Spirits who had died in another century often didn’t understand or like modern technology. He thought if the spirit was anywhere to be found without Peg in the house, it would be this room. Cope sensed nothing.

His gut roiled with nerves, but other than that, he wasn’t picking up on any spirits. The informal living quarters led to the dining room and the kitchen. If Cope closed his eyes, he could see the kitchen as it had been in the days before electricity and running water. Sighing, Cope walked toward the bathroom and then into the casual living room.

“Anything?” Jude asked.

“No, nothing. All I’m feeling is this buzzy, low-level anxiety.” He took a step closer to Jude, not wanting Marc to hear his next words. “I think that has more to do with being away from Wolf than what’s going on in this house.” Cope was lying and he knew it. He hadn’t felt any anxiety at all when they were in the office yesterday. He wasn’t going to mention that to his husband now. Maybe later, but not with Marc Waller within earshot.

Jude turned back to Marc. “Can you show us where the incidents have taken place?”

“Sure, follow me upstairs.” Marc’s grin was back in place. Cope wondered what the hell there was to smile about at a time like this. He supposed people were strange, as the saying went.

Cope took one last look at the first floor before following behind. There was nothing supernatural here. He knew how Jude worked these cases. If anyone else, aside from Geneva Beecher, had died in this house Jude would have found the records. He’d been calling out to the young lady’s spirit since they’d gotten here, but so far, he hadn’t seen or sensed her.

“This is our room,” Marc said. “All of the noises we’ve heard have been from this room.”

Cope stepped around him and Jude. The room was pleasant, done in shades of sky blue. A queen-sized bed dominated the room, not leaving space for much else. He wasn’t picking up any spirit activity or psychic residue. Turning back to Marc, Cope plastered a smile on his face. “You said Peg hears slamming doors?”

“Right. According to her, it sounds like every door in the place is slamming shut. Standing here now, it sounds pretty crazy, huh?”

Cope wasn’t going near that question with a ten-foot pole.

“Have