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  “What kind of reward is this for a man who has saved so many?” he asked the wind.

  “Perhaps saving the souls was its own reward,” a voice answered him.

  Angelo spun around and blinked. Was this a vision? Was the man who stood in an expensive linen suit before him real?

  “Forgive me, but you look like an old friend of mine. His name is Paolo Santos.”

  “Paolo Santos is my older brother. I am Constantino Santos. I’ve come for his body.”

  “But he’s not dead,” Angelo insisted.

  “If he has no soul, then he is dead, sir,” Constantino asserted.

  “I’m sorry, but he could be in a state of bilocation. It’s happened before. I will bring you proof. If you remove his body from this place, then he will be lost to us forever.”

  The man opened his brown eyes wide. Angelo stared into the large irises and saw the pleading birdman he’d become, not the strong warrior but a frightened child. He pulled his eyes away and covered his face. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Compassion seemed to flow out of every pore from the middle-aged Spaniard’s hand.

  “Angelo, Paolo would want me to give you time. Go, and bring me back proof he still lives. I will wait one week. After that, I will take him home to his family and prepare his body for burial.”

  “You are more than generous. I will not fail in my quest. Tell me, Constantino, how did you find this place? How did you get up here?”

  “Father Alessandro told me where, and then I simply walked up the mountain.”

  Angelo looked down at the treacherous landscape and said, “That must have been one hell of a walk.”

  “God was with me, most of the way. After we narrowly dodged a small landslide, God decided he had better things to do, so I continued on alone.”

  Angelo looked at the man and pondered whether there was a deeper meaning to what the man had just said. “I will go and bring you back proof. Stay here and the ladies will care for you. Your brother is also under their care. Do not take for granted that they, being female, are not formidable, because you will be wrong.”

  “One week, Angelo. Then, ladies or no ladies, I will bring my brother home,” Constantino promised.

  Chapter Two

  “It was absolutely horrible,” Mrs. Wise declared. “One minute we were in the midst of taking down the wall between the kitchen and the dining room, the next we were fighting for our very lives.”

  Mike pondered the alive but bruised people in front of him and asked, “Please take me through the incident from the beginning.”

  “We were hoping for an open concept design,” she explained. “My husband had just sledgehammered a large hole in the wall and asked me to take a look. I took a peek, and he said, ‘This is what your sightline will be when we’re through.’ I have to admit I just saw a hole in the wall. He, on the other hand, could envision the finished product.”

  “I could see that she was having trouble seeing it, so I smashed a larger hole. I stuck my head through the opening, and that’s when it happened,” Mr. Wise explained. “Something grabbed my head and pulled me through the plaster and wood and tossed me to the floor.”

  “I thought he was just having me on, so I looked through the wall after him, laughing, and that’s when I felt cold hands on my back. I was forced through the wall. I heard a gravelly voice say, ‘Do you see it, do you see it.’ It kept on saying it over and over. I held my hands over my ears and pleaded for it to stop.”

  “When I came to, I saw my wife standing inside the wall crying. I got up and ran to her only to find myself off the ground and headed for the wall. Something bashed me against the wall hard and then tossed me back into the corner of the dining room. Virginia was screaming. I rolled over and saw several two by fours nailed across the opening. I managed to get to my feet and ran into the kitchen to pull her away from the hole. And that’s when I discovered several more boards nailed across the wall behind her. Whatever it was, it had nailed her inside the wall.”

  Mia, who had been taking notes, looked up. “Walled up like a nun?”

  “No, that would be bricked up,” Ted corrected. He walked over and showed her the readings he took in the kitchen. He also flipped through the pictures the Wise couple took after the husband freed the wife.

  “Mind if I take a look?” Mia asked, getting to her feet.

  “Please,” Virginia said, leading the way. “Mr. Dupree, would you like to come too?”

  Mike got up and followed the women down the hall. “We were going to open up the dining room, kitchen wall first and then take on the wall between the living room and dining room,” she explained.

  Mia started to walk into the dining room but stopped. She instead walked into the kitchen and stood looking through the hole at the others before she looked up. She backed out of the hole and waved the others away from the dining room. “What’s above here?” she asked, walking around the wall.

  “The bathroom,” Virginia said.

  “I know it seems like you were brutalized by the ghost, but Mr. and Mrs. Wise, I think it saved your lives.”

  “How can you say that? I was walled up,” Virginia protested.

  “Stand here. Come on, I don’t bite,” Mia urged. “You too, Larry.” Mia waited until the homeowners were beside her. “Look up. Do you see the support beam overhead?”

  “Support beam?” Larry questioned.

  “The one holding up the second story,” Mia said jumping up, touching the exposed beam. She walked over and tapped the dented series of boards beside the opening. “This here is what is holding that beam up. Under here is another beam, holding up this floor, and I expect another set of uprights holding it stable. Had you continued to remove this wall, you would have brought the house down around your shoulders.”

  Virginia paled. “You did check with an engineer first like Lucky Luke recommended, didn’t you?” she asked her husband.

  Mike, Mia and Ted could tell from his expression that he had not.

  “You cheap bastard!” Virginia spat. “First, we can’t afford a professional job. Next, you don’t consult an engineer? I’ve had it,” she said and stalked off.

  “So is my house haunted?” Larry Wise asked, scratching the top of his head.

  Mia stared at the satisfied ghost standing in the corner and said, “Yes, it is, but I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble as long as you consult the right people. He was just trying to save your lives.” Mia looked over at the ghost and continued with a raised voice, “But perhaps there was a better way to tell you, something a bit less violent.”

  The ghost raised his hands, trying to look innocent.

  She shook her head before turning around to address Larry. “If you have any further problems… Problems with the ghost,” Mia specified, “Then give us a call, and we’ll send him packing.”

  “Is the house safe?”

  “If you stop busting through the walls, then I’ll say yes. Call a professional,” she advised. She turned to go but stopped and asked, “Who’s Lucky Luke?”

  “He’s a dreamy contractor on cable,” Virginia said as she walked down the stairs carrying a suitcase. “He advises homeowners how to do it yourself.”

  “More like do yourself in,” Mia said, patting the wall.

  “I assure you, if Larry weren’t so cheap and followed Lucky’s instructions to the tee, then all would be fine,” Virginia insisted.

  “I hope so,” Mia said. “Otherwise there’s going to be a rise in people’s homeowners insurance.”

  “The ever practical ghost hunter,” Mike said, giving Mia the please shut the fuck up look. “If you folks will excuse us… Give us a call if anything further happens here. We’re only a phone call away.”

  Ted closed the door behind them. Mike waited until they were in front of the PEEPs van before he laid into Mia, “Couldn’t you, just for a moment, be pleasant?”

  “I thought I was,” she argued. “I chastised a ghost, but it was needed.”


  “I’m talking about the do yourself in comment. They feel bad enough as it is.”

  “Oh, I missed that,” Mia admitted. “People are hard to read. Ghosts are much easier.”

  “You’re getting better, Monster Mouse,” Ted said, patting her on the back. “At the last place, what did you tell the lady with the humongous hairy mole on her nose when she asked what you thought her problem was?”

  “I wanted to say, it was as plain as the mole on her face that it was her, not a ghost, that scared the little kids away from her door,” Mia said thoughtfully. “But what I did say was, ‘Perhaps the door hinges could use a little oil. They screeched when the door opened. That alone would send the most stouthearted of us running.’”

  Mike looked at Mia and smiled. “I expect you want a reward for that?”

  “No, but dinner would be nice. I’m starving,” Mia confessed.

  “You’re always starving,” Mike said. “Come on, I think I saw a steakhouse on our way in to town.”

  “Steak! I love this man,” Mia said. “Not as much as you, Ted. Although, he is feeding me steak. Burt won’t even pop for a hamburger.”

  Ted opened up the door to the van, and Mia climbed in the back. He shut it firmly. He looked at Mike. “She is trying.”

  “I hope so,” Mike said. “There’s no one better than Mia when it comes to ghosts, but when humans are involved…”

  “Preaching to the choir, Dupree,” Ted said, getting into the driver’s side. Mia wrapped her arms around him from behind and kissed the top of his head.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “For smoothing the waters with Dupree,” Mia said.

  Mike opened the passenger door, holding his cell phone to his ear. He was reporting to Burt about their second visit. “Nothing here unless the homeowners do themselves in.”

  Mia smiled.

  “We’re waiting for Audrey to arrive,” Burt explained to Mike. “I think this one looks promising. The house is over a hundred years old and has a history according to Audrey. Speaking of the devil, she’s just pulled up.” Burt waved at her as if she would have trouble seeing him standing there, bold as brass, in the middle of the drive.

  “I’m sorry, but the toll way was more of a no way today,” she joked. “Have you talked to them yet?”

  “Fortunately, they haven’t noticed us out here. Cid’s even been poking around at the foundations without them coming out to see what’s what,” Burt commented.

  “Could be they’re just being good homeowners,” Cid said. “I’m used to all kinds in construction. The good ones wait until you have a looksee before asking a bunch of questions. The others demand answers before you have a foot outside your truck.”

  Burt approached the door and rang the bell. He heard the soft melodic chimes playing the traditional Westminster melody followed by several sets of footfalls. The door opened inwardly, displaying a family of three standing there as if they were getting a portrait painted.

  “Hello, I’m Burt Hicks. These are my associates Audrey McCarthy and Cid Garrett. We’re from the Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners. We’re here to help.”

  “Come in,” the man said and identified himself, “I’m John Wheaton. This is my wife Mindy and my son Tim who contacted you.”

  The PEEPs team stepped in and followed Mindy to a warm and inviting parlor. The fire was lit. The flames danced, spurred on by the slight breeze from the open door. Burt waited until the rest of the family joined them and Mindy sat down, before seating himself on the couch beside Audrey. Cid stood, pulling several devices out of his pocket to start scanning the house.

  “Tim, since you were the one to contact us, why don’t you begin,” Burt suggested to the young man.

  “My family is being bothered by several spirits, at least I think it’s several,” he started. “One has manifested full-body in the attic and on the second floor by the attic stairs. It has talked to me and my father. Another has imitated my voice and has spoken to my mother on more than one occasion. The last one dances in the dining room. My bedroom is above it. I heard footsteps as if someone was dancing a waltz. You know, one two three, one two three…”

  “Is there any music?” Audrey asked. “Waltz music?”

  “Not that I can hear, ma’am.”

  “Have the spirits, aside from talking, manifesting and dancing, touched or caused you harm?” Burt asked.

  “No, but it’s escalating, sir,” Tim said. “There were a couple of unexplained events and then the attic encounter I wrote you about.”

  “Have you recently done any home renovations?” Cid asked.

  “We refinished the wood floor in the dining room, painted…” John looked at his wife.

  “I put new wood shelves in the pantry and stripped the wallpaper from one of the bedrooms. We were just getting started. Little projects. We love this house and want to bring it back to what it was when it was first built. We’re not the type of people that go knocking down walls and gutting kitchens.”

  “Tim, would you say that the activity started before or after the projects started?” Burt asked.

  Tim thought a moment and answered, “After. One or two weeks after the floor was refinished was when I started hearing the dancer.”

  Audrey got up and asked, “Can I see this floor?”

  Mindy rose and motioned Audrey to come with her. “I haven’t found the right table and chairs yet, so please excuse the empty space.” She reached in and flipped on the light.

  For a fraction of a second, Audrey thought she saw a group of people dressed in post-Civil War clothing. “Did you see that?”

  “The people?” Mindy asked in a hushed voice. “This is the first time.”

  Audrey reached back and grabbed her hand. “I think that’s what we call a residual haunt. A picture from the past.”

  “Why? How, I mean...”

  “Have you ever had a cedar closet or chest?”

  “Yes.”

  “When the scent fades, all you have to do is lightly sand it and the scent returns. When you reconditioned the wood, you must have gone deep enough to release a memory. A party. According to my colleagues, this will fade in time. Although, I can’t tell you how long,” she added.

  Mindy watched as the investigator got down on her hands and knees and ran her hand along the wood.

  “This is a beautiful job. Did you do it yourself?”

  “Oh, no, we had a company come in, highly recommended by a few of our new neighbors. This street used to be the place where the wealthier of the farmers had their homes. They may have started off in the dirt, but they ended up building dynasties.”

  “I like the way you say that,” Audrey said, getting to her feet. “Let’s get back to the others, shall we?”

  “Is it okay to offer your group food?” Mindy asked timidly.

  “PEEPs are quite fond of food,” Audrey said, patting her stomach.

  “Lemonade, Mom. Please make some lemonade,” a young voice asked from behind them.

  Audrey and Mindy turned around to see an empty hall.

  “Sounds a bit like your son,” Audrey said, flipping open her notebook and making an entry. “I take it you’ve heard this before.”

  “Yes, but I thought it was Tim. I made six pitchers of it before Tim admitted he wasn’t really fond of the stuff.”

  “Well, someone is,” Audrey said.

  Mindy felt comforted by this woman. She wasn’t all Hollywood like her sister warned her. She said not only were these reality ghost hunting shows a sham, but the people were just actors. Audrey and Burt seemed more like everyday folks. The tall handsome investigator, Cid, was a bit intimidating. His eyes darted here and there, looking into corners, while he typed notes on the iPad. His dark hair and muscular body reminded Mindy of the characters in some of Tim’s role playing games. In this case, he’d be cast as the hero.

  Burt watched Audrey and Mindy come into the room. Audrey gave Burt a look and nodded her head. Mindy asked if anyon
e would like refreshments.

  “Yes, we are quite the coffee drinkers,” Burt admitted. “But first, sit down, and let me tell you what PEEPs can do for you.”

  ~

  Mia moved around the basement of the home. It was a postwar colonial, but you wouldn’t know it from the inside. The walls had been blown-out. Large iron support beams ran the expanse of the open spaces. The house was stripped down to its bones on the inside. Catching something amiss, Mia moved to the stairway. She descended the basement stairs slowly, careful to look for anything that would trip or shove her. She then walked over to a large clump of purple foam.

  “That’s where the first incident happened,” the excited homeowner explained, following her to the space.

  Mia turned and looked at Ronald Malone and gave him her full attention. The thirty-something moving company manager gestured wildly as he explained, “The technician was blowing insulation on the outside wall when, all of a sudden, the stuff sort of circled back on the man, burying him in a mountain of foam. He twisted and jumped out of his boots and managed to free himself before the stuff hardened. Look, his boots are still inside.”

  Mia looked through the split in the foam and, true to Ron’s word, there were two empty boots. She then walked over to the wall where the purple insulation ended and ran her hand lightly over the space. She then knocked on the wood and smiled. “I think that perhaps you shouldn’t insulate this area quite yet. Listen,” she instructed. Mia rapped hard on the wall. “It’s hollow.”

  Ronald ran to the wall and knocked on it himself. “You’re right!” He then ran with his hands in the air to a pile of tools. He sorted through them quickly and picked up a sledgehammer.

  Mia waved him off. “Whoa, I don’t think you should just break this open. I don’t know what you’ll release. Ted, can you take a couple of shots of this wall? Use the multispectrum camera,” Mia suggested.