"But I don't think it was faked." Why would someone plant the smell of fresh blood too faint for a human nose, for instance.
Still, I felt obligated to be as certain as I could that no one was playing tricks.
He thought about that for a while, then gave me a solemn nod and pointed out things of interest.
A small, empty room behind a very thick door that might have been a cold room.
The old coal chute with a box of old blankets placed near the end.
I stuck my head in the metal tunnel and sniffed, but only to confirm my suspicions : Chad had been sliding down the coal chute for fun.
His eyes peered worriedly out from under his too-long hair.
It didn't look dangerous to me--it looked fun.
More fun if no one else knew, I'd had a few places like that when I was his age.
So I didn't say anything.
I showed him the old bare copper electrical wires, no longer in use but still present, and the quarry marks on the granite stone blocks used to wall in the basement.
We checked out the basement ceiling below the kitchen and dining room.
Since I didn't know exactly what had been happening in the kitchen and dining room, I didn't know what to look for.
But it stood to reason that it would have been put in shortly before the haunting started--which was just a few months ago.
Everything in that part of the basement looked as though it was older than I was.
The next two floors weren't nearly as interesting as the basement--no black widows.
Someone had thoroughly modernized them and left not so much as a trace of an old servants' stairway or dumb-waiter.
The woodwork was nice, but pine rather than hardwood--the craftsmanship good but not extraordinary.
The house had been built by someone of the upper middle class, I judged, and not by one of the truly wealthy.
My trailer had been built for the truly poor, so I was a good judge of such things.
The ghost hadn't been to Chad's room since last night--everything was neatly in place.
As Corban had said, there were no signs of wires or strings or anything that could have made the car shoot across the room.
I supposed it could have been done with magic--I didn't know a lot about magic.
But I hadn't felt any, and I usually can tell if someone's using magic near me.
I looked at Chad.
"Unless we find something really odd in the floor above your room, I'm pretty convinced this is the real deal." In my room, my brush was on the floor, but I couldn't swear I hadn't left it there.
Under Chad's gimlet eye, I made my bed and stuffed the clothes I'd scattered all over the floor into my suitcase.
"The real problem is," I told him as I tidied my mess and he sat on the bed, "that I don't know how to get the ghost to leave you alone.
I can see it better than you, I think--you didn't see anything yesterday except the things moving around?" He shook his head.
"I did.