actual experience of poltergeists. On the other end of the spectrum—we could prove they exist.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She didn’t sleep that night, of course, but lay awake against her pillows in the jasmine-scented dark, in a dazed state of overload. The basement scene had been weird beyond belief, and in moments she wasn’t exactly sure any of it happened.
Brendan had walked her to her car and there had been an awkwardness as if they had been on a first date—the weirdest first date in the recorded history of first dates: sitting in a basement with seven hundred file boxes around them, talking about poltergeists. The thought sent her into a fit of giggles that woke the cat, who stared at her from its pillow in unblinking reproof.
Get hold of yourself, Laurel ordered sternly. This is madness. You’re a tenure track professor at a major university and you’re seriously thinking of doing some sort of study on poltergeists?
And there was somehow another professor who was equally crazy enough to be contemplating it?
But you can end that right now—easiest thing in the world. It’s clear he has no idea about the Folger Experiment. You don’t ever have to mention it.
And really, she didn’t have any idea what “the Folger Experiment” meant; all she had was the vaguest idea where to start.
A house, her mind whispered back to her seductively. Uncle Morgan said, “The Folger House.” It’s a real place.
Brendan had confirmed what she had been thinking herself: Leish had been at the Rhine lab conducting an investigation into the Folger House. Before he died.
In fact, in all likelihood he was conducting the experiment when he died, she reminded herself, and the thought shot through her body in an icy chill.
And what do you really think you’re going to do if you do find the house? If she ever decided to tell Brendan that there was a house?
But she knew what they would do. It had been crackling in the air between them at the restaurant. Brendan wanted to follow in Leish’s footsteps. He wanted to find a poltergeist.
The thought made her shiver again … but she had to admit there was an excitement running through the chill.
She could pretend all she wanted that it was a psychological experiment. Really, what it was, was magic.
Her cell phone rang beside her, and she bolted up. The phone rang again, vibrating on the bed table. She had no idea who would be calling her. But she did.
She reached for the phone, felt its ring vibrate through her hand. She punched it on. “Hello?” she said warily.
“This is going to be so big.”
She wanted to laugh. She had no idea what was happening to her. She had no idea how he’d gotten her cell number.
“What is?” she asked, finally.
“You know.” Brendan’s voice thrilled through her, heating her to her core.
Now she did laugh. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you do.”
There was a live, warm silence.
“Noon. In front of Bryan. I have something I need to show you.”
The silence again.
“Okay,” she heard herself saying into the dark.
By the time they met, of course, the doubts were back, gnawing around the edges of her consciousness. No matter how much she wanted to do this book, and no matter what a relief it was to think that she might not have to do it all alone, there was no reason to trust this man—none at all. But the day was gorgeous, trembling with the excitement of fall … tantalizingly warm sun and teasing wind that brushed at her cheeks and her legs and played with her clothes and hair, and she felt her heart lift as she hurried on the flagstone paths toward the sprawling stone and glass student union.
Inside the lobby, Brendan turned from a theater poster, and heat shot through her at the way his face lit up at the sight of her. He was slow crossing the room to her and she felt again the awkwardness of a date. He touched her arm and by silent agreement they moved immediately out of the bustling thoroughfare that was the Bryan Center, through the glass side doors onto the outdoor walkway, where iron tables were scattered between umbrellaed kitchen kiosks selling salads, desserts, and various ethnic foods. The whole upper walkway looked out over the tops of trees, the pond of Duke Gardens glimmering below between the maples. A strong wind gusted leaves across the pavement and swirled the trees, a promise of mystery and adventure.