Chapter 20
The riverbank was problematic in different ways than anticipated.
The main reason we were here was to draw out Joey, so my nerves already jangled walking in.
I kept one eye out for him. Like hell would I let an almost-demon get the drop on any of us.
We’d initially seen an open area with a lot of ghosts, and I didn’t think anyone’s thought process had gone past that.
But working the riverbank meant we worked out in the open.
Which meant we got spectators.
The area had tall banks on either side of the river, a good fifty feet up at least, and sidewalks and back parking lots faced this river.
It was easy enough to see down here while you walked or drove up above, so of course a bunch of people in FBI windbreakers would catch attention.
We had a good two or three dozen people lined up with their phones out.
Man, I did not want spectators. I couldn’t explain just how little I wanted a peanut gallery for something already nerve-racking.
With water right there, the ghosts were much stronger than usual, to the point I could see vague outlines and hear them clearly. Fun for me, I loved moments like this, but it definitely encouraged the spectators.
Also, the snippets of conversation I overheard from the ghosts were amazing.
Two prostitutes stood nearby, pointing at another ghost who had his back to them. The girls whispered between each other, just loudly enough I could overhear.
“Did you meet him in life?”
“Oh, no. Did you know him?”
“Oh, I knew him. Avoided him, too. That bastard’s had the clap so many times, it’s now a standing ovation.”
I choked back a laugh, shaking with the effort of holding it in. Woooow, they weren’t pulling punches.
The man in question realized, I think, they were talking about him, as he turned around, taking off his hat and rubbing his bald head. “You talking to me?”
“No, I’m talking about you,” the older prostitute snapped back. “You better start repenting before that cute Medium gets to you. I don’t want you in hell with me.”
I laughed a little harder. We had some interesting personalities here today, clearly.
Beau wandered up to stand next to me. “What are you laughing about, Brandon?”
“These two ladies are killing me with their running commentary.”
“Ah.” He grinned, eyes twinkling. “I’ve caught snatches myself, they’re a walking comedy duo.”
“Truly.” Damn shame they were dead.
Beau paused, looking up at our spectators for a moment. “Used to be PAD was hush-hush, as people didn’t want to admit to ghosts or hauntings. Used to be, we’d make sure no one was around before working. Now we’re getting filmed like we’re stars.”
I regarded him thoughtfully. “Tech advanced so quickly in your lifetime, I bet you got whiplash sometimes.”
“Oh, weekly, felt like. Our policies were constantly updating because of the technology waves. People watching us work, documenting it in their own way, I’d not predicted that.” Then he suddenly smiled, crow’s feet more pronounced. “But it’s better now, working in the light.”
I couldn’t imagine it, trying to deal with ghosts in buildings usually occupied.
Having to craft excuses to get in there and work.
Having to explain away any damage done while ferreting a ghost out.
That must have been ridiculously frustrating and needlessly harder than it should have been.
I was sure he was glad those days were well behind all of us.
Gwyn came to stand on my other side, and she looked at all of those cameras uneasily. “Brandon, you don’t think my parents will figure out where I am because of them, do you?”
“It’s a real possibility,” I admitted. “But even if they do, they can’t take you back. It’ll be a fight if they try.”
“Just stick close to us,” Beau advised. “No one sane takes on Brandon.”
Heh, true. This large size of mine did have its uses. Even if finding clothes that fit was a headache, there were pros.
“But I’ll give Sylvia a heads-up that this is a concern and something we want to nip,” I said to make Gwyn feel a little better. Plus, I should alert my boss so she wasn’t surprised by TikTok videos flooding her inbox.
I called Sylvia. “Hey, boss? Just a heads-up, we’re getting the spotlight treatment right now.”
She sighed, tired. “Meaning?”
“We’re working the riverbank today and we’ve got a lot of people filming us.”
“Oh. Shit. Of course you’d draw attention, ugh. Gwyn?”
I loved how quickly she put the pieces together. “A little worried her parents might track her down.”
Gwyn leaned in to say, “Sylvia, my parents aren’t huge on social media, but my mom’s BFF is and she’ll report to her immediately.”
“Okay, I’ve got it, I’ll do a preemptive strike here.
Her parents have put in a formal complaint to our office, and I think they’ve been trying to find a lawyer to help them, although no one’s been willing to take the case yet.
I’m just hearing bits and pieces from people.
I’ll notify police of the situation, and let them know they are not to back the parents up if called.
Let’s try to keep her out of the spotlight if possible. ”
“Sure, but it’s not possible today. We need all hands here.” I took another visual sweep of the area. “You would not believe how bad it is here. This will take all day, just in passing ghosts. This makes the Highland case look like a warm-up.”
“Fuck. All right, I’m hanging up. I’ve got calls to make.”
“Please and thank you.”
Beau gestured for Gwyn to come with him. “Let’s get started. And maybe wear a hat, let’s keep your face on the down-low.”
“Oh, sure, great idea. I think Booker has a hat I could borrow.”
When did Booker ever fail to have the needed thing?
I kept track of Gwyn as she went to Booker. He, to no one’s surprise, had a hat tucked in a bag and handed it to her. I felt relieved when she put it on, as from the top view, no one could see her face. It should help protect her.
We had three different passing lanes set up, split between all of the Mediums. Eli was running up and down the river, tackling the darker souls as she laid hands on them. So she was going to be dead on her feet sooner rather than later. I thought she was supposed to be taking it easy?
Quinn chased after her, yelling, “Wife! Sit your ass down! You’re not supposed to be exorcising!”
Eli didn’t even slow down, just yelled back, “But ghosts!”
I wished Quinn all the luck. He’d apparently need it.
I expected Mack to switch and help her after he cut down on some of the friendlies.
The way the Mediums moved, it was like a packed stadium down here.
Everyone would have an easier time once they had elbow room.
I wasn’t worried about Joey missing us, as we were visible enough here.
Even if the ghosts didn’t pass the information along to him of us being here, the living were making enough noise to get his attention. Now, question was, would he bite?
But being on the lookout for Joey wasn’t really my job. Not like I could easily spot him, anyway.
My job was something else.
Namely, the set of stairs leading down to the river? This was my territory. I’d seen more than one person try to creep down for a better shot or something. I got myself parked right there, and anyone who tried to put a foot on the stairs, I gave them a stern look and pointed the other way.
No one had dared argue so far, although there was more than one disappointed face.
I stood there looking unfriendly and strict for a good two hours.
Time eked by for me, but I had a feeling it went by much faster for everyone else, as they were actively working.
Even Quinn and Booker were busy, running after Eli.
I took peeks now and again and saw the population of ghosts had dropped quite a bit.
Maybe a fifth had passed on? Or been forced on.
We had a line of ghosts at all three spots, so most of these guys were actively participating, which sped things up a lot.
Maybe we’d be done with the river area this week.
I couldn’t say today because the river stretched out for miles, but this particular spot would be clearer.
I’d take wins as they came.
I heard another scuff at the top of the stairs and my head whipped around. Goddammit, why couldn’t people learn, no one could come down here!
Lachlan threw up both hands to either side, mock shivering. “Ooh, scary. Don’t shoot.”
I made a face, snorting. “Like I scared you.”
“Damn near wet myself,” he parried cheerfully, making his way down. Oh, he had Seiji with him. “Just finished the grand tour. Why do you Yanks call it a nickel tour, anyway?”
“Ask Google, not me.”
The funny prostitutes who had cracked me up earlier let out a whistle of admiration. I glanced back and found them posing for Lachlan like he was prime meat.
Lachlan caught it, too, and pointed at himself as if to say me?
The girls responded by catcalling him.
His face screwed up in a way that suggested he was trying not to laugh. “Sorry, lassies, not interested in a ghostly tumble.”
They made booing noises but did keep their distance.
Lachlan was apparently too handsome and charming for his own good, if he even had ghosts flirting with him. I deliberately put my back to them, ignoring any more commentary. “What do you think, Seiji?”
Seiji looked more bristly than he had yesterday.
I meant that in an armament way. He wore both katana and wakizashi, had daggers strapped to both thighs, and had this messenger bag like a fanny pack at his back, which held who knew what.
He also wore this expression I couldn’t quite read. It seemed pensive, but who knew?
“This is a problematic area,” he answered bluntly. He paused at the last step, which put us almost at eye level. “In fact, I am not sure which to tackle first. Even this riverbank is not good.”
“So on a scale of one to ten, one being this will take me a week, ten being fuck my life, where do we sit?”