Chapter Six #2
‘Oooh, don’t tease me.’ He grins. ‘And this is why we’re here, to find this stuff out.
The only way to know for sure about the second spirit is to identify the young female.
Hopefully we can get a clue from Western.
She must have a connection to someone who lived in the house at some point.
But my gut says the hauntings are nineteenth or twentieth century.
The original house burnt down, so I don’t think a spirit from that period would still be kicking around.
Have you ever faced a ghost from another century? ’
I shake my head. ‘My jobs are almost always contemporary. Fresh ghosts. Usually within months of death. I have a theory that spirits get more and more pissed off the longer they stay past their use by date. Though some were probably just assholes to begin with.’
‘There’s been research into your angry spirit theory, whether the feeling of being displaced causes the spirit to lash out. Or if they have unfinished business that leaves them frustrated post-death. That’s the main theory on why they can’t let go. What’s your experience?’
‘I don’t know what their business is, they don’t tell me.
’ I pull my burger apart. ‘Anyway, everyone has unfinished business, that doesn’t mean we all linger after death scaring the people we supposedly love.
’ I peel a pickle off the bun, and Callum grabs it, dropping it into his mouth. ‘Ew. I can’t believe you like pickles.’
‘I can’t believe you don’t.’ A soft smile curves his lips. ‘Hey, do you remember how much Celeste loved pickles?’
‘Oh my god. Those huge ones that come on the side with a sandwich.’
‘And fried pickles. She even liked fried pickles.’
I screw up my nose. ‘She made those for me one time when I had dinner with her and Max.’
‘Do you… ever hear from Max?’
‘No.’ I put my burger back together and take a large bite.
‘Me neither…’
A shared sadness throbs between us.
I take a deep breath and say, ‘Anyway,’ quickly moving us along. ‘Did you know that during the mid-seventeenth century there were witch trials here? I’d always thought that only happened in Salem.’
‘The first witch trials in North America took place right here in East Mill,’ he says, nodding. ‘Only the town doesn’t celebrate or even recognise it the way Salem does, so most people don’t know.’
‘The thing that really bothers me about all of this is how little information there is about Edward Western, apart from the fact that he exists and now owns the house.’
Callum leans forward, his knees tapping mine. ‘I love a good mystery, don’t you?’
I shift my knees to the side and wiggle back in my chair. ‘No, not really. We should get going. Call your Rosing guy.’
Albert Rosing is a man in his mid-fifties, of average height, average build, average appearance and with very little hair. He wears a nondescript grey sweater and neatly pressed beige pants. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blander man.
He peers through the screen door, which he keeps conspicuously closed.
‘Unfortunately,’ he says, ‘I can no longer join you at the property tomorrow. I have some business to attend to.’
‘Not a problem,’ Callum says. ‘Are you happy for us to go there on our own?’
‘As long as I have your guarantee that you will stay on the grounds and won’t enter the house until I can be there too. Mr Western was quite firm on that.’
‘You have my guarantee. But if we could sit down with you at some stage after that?’
Mr Rosing nods. ‘That should be fine. I’ll email through the information you requested, to start with. If there’s anything else you need, let me know.’
‘There is one thing. Do you have any security we should know about? Cameras or patrols? CCTV can be useful for catching paranormal activity, but we don’t want to set off any alarms and have security guards descend on us.’
His eyes fill with suspicion. ‘No security staff. And our cameras were vandalised. I’m yet to replace them.’
‘And what about Mr Western?’ I ask, stepping from the shadows and into the glare of the porch light. ‘When can we meet with him?’
‘Ah, you must be Ms Daniels.’ Mr Rosing finally opens the door and reaches out his hand for me to shake. It’s like a wet fish. ‘Thank you for agreeing to assist us. I will confirm Mr Western’s schedule with you in the next day or so. I’m just finalising his calendar.’
‘And if we do find a spirit at the house,’ I say. ‘Would you like me to clear it? I’m not sure if you’re aware that I can do that.’
‘Mr Jefferies told me of your specific talents. But we can discuss next steps once you’ve experienced the house.’
I nod, and he smiles with thin, tight lips. It instantly gives me the creeps.
‘I’ll go get the gate key,’ he says and closes the screen door again, disappearing inside.
‘Strange dude,’ Callum whispers.
‘Very. I get a weird vibe from him.’
‘One of your “I’m not that kind of psychic” weird vibes?’
‘Ha ha. And no, just your normal “That guy’s creepy” weird vibe.’ I hiss, ‘Shh,’ as I spy Mr Rosing approaching.
‘You don’t intend to visit the property tonight, do you?’ Mr Rosing says, withholding the key. ‘It’s not a place to be at night.’
Callum shakes his head. ‘Nope, we’ll wait till tomorrow.’
‘We’ll probably have to go there at night at some point, Mr Rosing,’ I say. ‘Spirits are often more active at night.’
‘We will make preparations for that event,’ Mr Rosing says as he hands Callum the key.
‘Have you been inside the place?’ Callum asks slipping the key into his pocket.
‘No, I have not. I maintain the grounds, organise maintenance, and do whatever else Mr Western requests of me, but he has never asked me to go inside the house. That’s for braver people, like you and Ms Daniels, and I suppose the previous investigators.
’ Mr Rosing freezes with a sharp gasp, the colour draining from his already pasty face.
Callum and I glance at each other.
‘What previous investigators?’ Callum asks. ‘I understood I was the first investigator out here.’
Mr Rosing shuffles. ‘Oh… ah… Mr Western’s attorney organised some others to investigate some time ago, but the job was never completed.’
Callum nods slowly. ‘Do you have their names?’
‘We probably know them,’ I say. ‘There aren’t a lot of us doing this kind of work.’
‘I wasn’t involved in their employment,’ Mr Rosing says. ‘But I’ll see if I can find their details for you.’
We walk back down the quiet street towards my car.
‘Why did you lie to him about going to the house tonight?’ I ask Callum.
‘It sounded like he wasn’t going to hand over the key if I told him the truth. The bigger question is, why didn’t he let me know about the other paranormal team?’
‘I don’t think he meant to tell us that.’
‘I don’t think he did either.’
‘And I can’t believe he wouldn’t know the names of the other investigators,’ I say. ‘He looks too organised not to have that information.’ Callum grunts in agreement. ‘I don’t feel good about any of this, Callum. I think we should do what we told him we would, and go to the house tomorrow.’
‘It’s not like you to be skittish about ghosts.’
‘I’m not being skittish. I just think it would be smarter if our first visit was in the daylight. You heard what Mr Rosing said, it’s not a place to be at night.’
‘And I heard what you said. There’s more ghost activity at night.’
‘Fine,’ I say impatiently, ‘but we stay in the garden. I put out my feelers, and you don’t do anything stupid.’
‘I can’t guarantee that last part.’
‘Yeah, I thought that would be too much to ask.’