type with no one pressing the keys?
“Not that I remember. We weren’t really a church family, Easter and Christmas, mostly, and the odd funeral or baptism. Church was always one of those things I was anxious to be over because I had other, pagan, things to do with my time.” A small grin quirked Cope’s lips.
Jude had been in a church less often than Cope. He wasn’t religious, but he was spiritual. “I know it might be hard to remember back that far, but was this song important to either of your parents?”
Cope shook his head. “No, but I see where you’re going with this train of thought. Neither one of my parents were in my office. Neither was Bertha. Or Crow. No one was there.” Cope took a deep breath. His eyes shifted from Jude to the floor. “Umm, the same thing happened last night.”
“Last night?” Jude’s head snapped up. He’d been watching Wolf sleep. “This happened last night too and you’re just telling me now?” Jude was shouting. He saw the baby flinch in his sleep.
“I thought I had sleep-typed it.” Cope handed the crumpled sheet of paper to Jude.
“These are the lyrics to Amazing Grace.” It may have been a church song, but it had comforted Jude in his darkest hours. If a wretch like the man who wrote the song could be redeemed, so could he. Jude shook his head. The song wasn’t the point. Cope not telling him about the ghost writer last night was.
“I knew what song it was. I thought I’d typed the lyrics while I was falling asleep. There were no spirits in the house. Not even Bertha or Crow. It couldn’t have been a ghost because I couldn’t feel one. Same with tonight. I’ll swear on my life the only entities in this house right now are the three of us and the cats.”
Now Jude understood why Cope had grabbed the baby. “It isn’t possible that no one was there, right?”
“That’s what I think too. It scares me that I can’t feel or sense this spirit.” Cope wrung his hands together. The knuckles had already gone white.
“Maybe it’s a poltergeist?” Scenes from the movie flashed through his head. Jude had seen it for the first time when he was twelve years old and it had scared the pants off him. “While you were writing, I was doing some research on The Beecher House. The hauntings there sound an awful lot like the work of poltergeist. It’s hard to pinpoint the characteristics exactly because Marc was so elusive with his information.”
“I don’t know what it was we encountered in that house. Same goes for whatever is happening here. I tried reaching out to it, but the only response I got were the hymn lyrics. I asked it questions and it did not respond.” Cope broke the eye contact between himself and Jude. “There’s one more thing.”
Jude felt his heart stutter in his chest. “Okay.” He had a very bad feeling about what Cope was going to tell him.
“It locked me in the office. I tried the knob and it wouldn’t budge. That was when the typewriter went crazy with the second page. Once it finished and the paper rolled free from the frame, I could open the door again.”
Anger roiled in Jude’s gut. “There’s a ghost, or poltergeist, in this house who you can’t see, detect, or communicate with, but who has the power to lock you in a room with no lock, and you’re just telling me about it now?” Jude’s voice had gone quiet. He took a deep breath and prayed for patience.
“Jude,” Cope set a hand on his knee. His eyes were on Wolf who cooed and shifted in his sleep. “Everything is fine. We’re all fine. It stopped when it ran out of paper.”
“That’s what you’re going with? The ghost can’t hurt us if it doesn’t have any paper?” He was up and pacing around the living room. Jude stopped in front of Wolf. Even at eight months old, his son was tiny. Hearing about this ghost writer made the baby seem all the more vulnerable. “You, Ten, and the guys always say kids are sensitive to spirits.” He whirled around to face Cope. “Does that mean Wolf can see this thing? Can it scare him? Can it hurt him?” Every instinct in Jude’s body urged him to grab Wolf and get the hell out of this house.
“I don’t know.” Cope sighed. He got up and crossed to