As soon as she got off work the next morning, Gabriella made her way up to her mother’s house. She was tired, but the hour or so she’d napped during the quiet shift helped a little. So did the enormous coffee she bought to drink along the way. Between that and the music blaring loud enough to rattle her old speakers, she was in decent shape when she arrived.

As she pulled in, she noticed one of Elliot’s family’s landscaping trucks was in the driveway. Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving it. Not that she wanted to talk to anybody in his family right now. It would be way too embarrassing. So of course they had to be here.

She got out of the car and started walking directly toward the front door, keeping her head straight and striding with purpose in hopes of avoiding any contact.

“Gabriella!”

But that wasn’t going to happen for her, was it?

Gabriella turned to see Elliot’s father, Mr. Ramsey, coming toward her. He smiled as he reached the stairs where she’d paused.

“I’m sorry about what happened with you and Elliot,” he said.

Couldn’t she just go in and start looking for an angry dead woman? “Thanks,” she said, unable to keep eye contact. “It just didn’t work out. I’m fine.”

“I told him he’s an idiot to do this. There’s no use being so stubborn.”

“No, it’s not that,” Gabriella said. “We just weren’t compatible anymore.”

“Because he’s too stubborn to admit that he might not know everything about everything in the damn world.”

She felt the urge to defend Elliot, but stayed quiet. His dad looked around the property and sighed. “I always thought this skepticism was just him being contrarian. But it clearly isn’t just that, especially if he’s not willing to let it go long enough to make things work with you. He really likes you, Gabriella.”

“We’re just too-” She paused as his words sank in. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s told me how much he likes you, how happy he was with you. When he told me you broke up over his ridiculous insistence that if he can’t see it, then it isn’t real? I couldn’t believe he was still holding onto that.”

“You mean you believe me?”

“Honey, I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was a baby,” Mr. Ramsey laughed. “Seventy years of spirits will make you a lot more open-minded about what’s really possible in the world.”

He laughed again, his long beard shaking as he did so. “Wait, so have you seen ghosts here at my mom’s house?” Gabriella asked.

She should probably be more focused on Elliot and everything his dad was saying about them, but the case was still winding around her head. Elliot’s dad thought for a second, gazing off into the backyard.

“Not that I recall,” he said. “Though I haven’t been inside for more than a few minutes at a time. Your mother told me about the case and how you’re investigating it.”

“We are,” Gabriella said. “Well, we were consultants with the local team. But my mom wants to fire them. I guess she officially put the request through yesterday to pull their captain from the case.”

“You don’t seem like you’re quitting, though.”

He motioned toward the EMP reader that was hooked to her belt, as well as the heavy backpack hanging off of one shoulder. Gabriella laughed sheepishly. “I don’t think I have much time to finish this before the Foundation or the Hillsborough County team blocks me. And I don’t want anyone else on my team to be at risk on my behalf.”

“What are you looking for?”

She told him about the tavern and the missing woman, all the while keeping an eye on her mother’s house. “Virginia Richelieu?” Mr. Ramsey repeated thoughtfully after she’d laid out the details. “I have absolutely heard that name over the years. As far as I know, she was real. I don’t know how it never occurred to me that this property might have been an inn before.”

“My mom said the same,” Gabriella said, relaxing into the conversation despite her initial reluctance. “The historian over at the county historical society confirmed it for me, and there were no other inns in town at that time. So, if the story is real, it would have happened here. I was reading up on the history of the place, at least what they had of it. One of the possibilities was that she fell in unrequited love with an innkeeper and he broke her heart.”

As the words left her mouth, she realized exactly what she was talking about and who she was saying it to. But the feeling of the puzzle pieces coming together – of the history gradually unveiling itself to complete the story – it completely beat out the feeling of her own broken heart, even as she was talking to Elliot’s father. Unlike Elliot, however, Mr. Ramsey was nodding along thoughtfully as she spoke.

“So, if she’s a heartbroken young woman,” Gabriella continued, thinking out loud, “And she feels… forgotten. Like she’s not enough. Like she’ll never be enough for him. Maybe he showed her some affection? Or maybe it was entirely unrequited. Maybe he didn’t even know about any of this.”

It was cold, and she was pacing as she spoke, the ideas sliding into place in her brain like the mechanisms of a lock. “If she took off, maybe she left a piece of herself behind. Like a love spell, though that’s totally not how love spells work. But it could be what held her here after she died, if she didn’t die on the premises. Do you think they would have had it in the papers if she’d died here? There wasn’t anything I could find.”

She’d almost forgotten she wasn’t on the clock or speaking to a coworker. But Mr. Ramsey had a look on his face that went beyond indulgent amusement. He seemed to carefully consider everything she was saying. “If they knew she died, they would,” he said.

“But if she went missing…”

Gabriella trailed off. She should go in soon, shouldn’t she? Start looking. But she was getting somewhere. Unfortunately, just as she was about to start talking again, she saw an unfamiliar car pull into the driveway. Her heart sank as she saw Saskia in the driver’s seat.

“Fuck,” she muttered, then blushed as she realized she’d said it out loud.

Elliot’s dad looked amused. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, heading back toward his truck.

Saskia parked behind Gabriella and got out of her car. She froze as she saw Gabriella standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Saskia asked.

“This is my mother’s house, I don’t need your permission to be here.”

Saskia turned red at this. “We have the case under control,” she said. “You don’t have to be here.”

“I thought she told you to leave,” Gabriella said.

“The case isn’t over,” Saskia replied. “Patrick sent me to talk to her and tell her it would be best to let us finish it.”

“He did?” After his dramatic exit, Gabriella was a little skeptical about this.

“He said it’s too small a thing to keep us distracted from our real work.”

“Bye, Saskia,” Gabriella muttered, walking toward the front stairs.

“Wait!”

Saskia went to grab her, then stopped as she realized what she was doing. “Sorry,” she said. “I just mean, we should finish the case.”

“And where is Captain America right now?” Gabriella demanded. “Why isn’t he brave enough to show his face? He sends you down here to get yelled at instead?”

“He’s busy,” Saskia said. “It’s hard work and we’re understaffed. He needs me to do it.”

This was as good a time as any to have this conversation, wasn’t it? Gabriella sighed. “Saskia,” she said. “You know you don’t have to believe everything he tells you because he’s your boss, right?”

Saskia scowled at her. “Seriously?” she demanded. “He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed. We were supposed to have help.”

“I know he’s your boss, but he’s not acting right,” Gabriella continued, aware of the potential for this to all blow up in her face, as well as the aching discomfort in her own chest as she prodded these memories again. “Listen, I had a boss who convinced me he was doing the right thing. I was scared and overwhelmed and everything he said made sense, you know? But he was setting me up to be killed.”

“He’s not doing anything wrong,” Saskia snapped. “He’s just doing his job. It’s not his fault we don’t have enough help.”

Apparently, the part about almost being murdered had sailed over her head in her defense of Patrick. Gabriella was about to keep going, but another car was pulling in now. And she was surprised to realize that it was Bradley’s. He pulled in behind Gabriella’s mother’s car, then he and Madelyn got out and made their way over.

“What are you doing here?” Gabriella asked them.

“Road trip on my day off,” Madelyn said.

“Does James know you’re here?”

“He’s not on duty,” Bradley said. “Amelia knows, if that makes you feel better.”

It actually did. But before she could say anything else, the front door opened and her mother walked out.

“I already have my appeal sent in,” she said, looking directly at Saskia. “I said I don’t want your team on my property. That includes you too.”

“Mrs. McManus, Patrick sent me to ask you to reconsider,” Saskia said, her voice high-pitched with nerves.

“He couldn’t come himself?” Madelyn asked from where she was leaning on her cane beside Bradley. “You had to come and deal with it?”

“He’s really busy!” Saskia protested.

“He’s an asshole!” Bradley snapped.

“No, he’s not! He’s just overwhelmed. He didn’t ask to be captain!”

“Why are you defending him?” Gabriella asked her softly. “He’s not nice to you.”

Saskia wiped harshly at her eyes. “I don’t need him to be nice.”

“He doesn’t treat you with respect, then,” Gabriella corrected.

Saskia’s eyes were bright with tears, but she didn’t say anything in response. After a moment of awkward silence, Mom sighed and motioned for them to come in.

“You can stay,” she said to Saskia. “But I’m not happy with your captain or any of how this has been handled. Do you understand?”

Gabriella had been on the receiving end of that voice enough times growing up that she flinched, even when it was not directed at her. Saskia’s shoulders were slouched, and she looked so defeated and embarrassed that Gabriella had to feel bad for her.

“I understand.”

Everyone filed into the house, and Mom led them into the living room just off the main hallway. From here, Gabriella could see the back room where everything had gone down the other day. She thought about Elliot’s father outside, how even his own father couldn’t get Elliot to be more open-minded. Then she tried to force herself to focus on the here and now.

“So I was only expecting Gabriella to be here until you called,” her mother said to Madelyn and Bradley. “This isn’t your day off, is it?”

They glanced at each other. “We’re just in a few hours early,” Madelyn said.

“Right.”

“The sooner we can identify the ghost, the easier it’ll be to get it out of the house,” Bradley said. “It’s no big deal.”

Gabriella looked at him, but he was either ignoring her attempt at eye contact or genuinely didn’t see it. Mom looked at him for a long second. “You’re a lot like my nephew,” she said finally.

Bradley’s jaw dropped and Gabriella caught Madelyn’s eye. Neither of them could hide their laughter, but luckily Mom just looked amused at this point.

“We haven’t met yet,” she said to Madelyn, holding out a hand. “Carrie McManus.”

Madelyn took her hand. “Madelyn Arroyo. Nice to meet you, finally.”

“Why aren’t we just doing a cleansing?” Saskia asked, apparently over her previous embarrassment. “Patrick said it would be the easiest way, and it’s how we do so many other houses. Or we can seal it, that would be even faster.”

“This spirit is stronger than a lot of other houses,” Madelyn explained before Bradley could say anything terrible in response. “A regular cleansing might work, but it might also be a huge waste of time since the spirit has such a powerful connection to the property. And sealing off the house would just trap the spirit here. It doesn’t actually get rid of the presence and it can make things worse in the future. If we can identify the spirit, they’re likely here because of some connection to the property.”

“We think it’s Virginia Richelieu,” Gabriella said. “That’s why I was asking you about her. If we can find something holding her here, it’ll be much more effective than a standard cleansing.”

“Patrick’s not going to like it,” Saskia muttered.

“Patrick couldn’t be bothered to take the hit, so he sent you instead,” Bradley snapped. “So excuse me if I don’t give a fuck what Patrick wants right now.”

Saskia just glared at Bradley, who turned to Gabriella. “You’ve got the information about her identity?”

Once again, Gabriella launched into her explanation of Virginia Richeleau and everything she’d found. As she spoke, the room seemed to cool off, just by a few degrees. She couldn’t tell if anyone else noticed, but she kept an eye on the coffee table, where her mother’s mug sat, currently unmoving, on a coaster. Small ripples appeared at the top of the liquid inside and she paused.

“What?” Madelyn asked.

“Maybe nothing,” Gabriella said.

It was an old house, things were always settling. There could be a draft she didn’t notice before. There were a lot of things that could cause these little changes. If they had actually happened at all.

No, Gabriella knew what she’d seen. “The coffee mug,” she said. “It’s being disturbed, but none of us are moving. And it’s colder in here, does anyone else feel that?”

“I don’t have a way to take readings,” Bradley said. “Do you?”

“No,” she replied. “But I know what I saw.”

She glanced at Madelyn, who shrugged. “It fits,” she said. “It could be other factors, it could be the spirit. We won’t dismiss it.”

Gabriella looked at the mug again. The coffee rippled. She braced herself, waiting for the mug to fly up and make contact with her skull, but it stayed where it was.

“Anyway, Saskia said she’d heard of her before,” she said, nodding toward Saskia, who was hanging back slightly. “So it has to be this house. And there’s something keeping her on the property.”

“What about that painting?” Bradley asked, pointing toward the painting in question, which was barely visible from the doorway.

“About that,” Mom said with a grim laugh. “It turned out to be fake.”

“No!” Gabriella exclaimed.

“It’s not an antique at all,” Mom said, shaking her head. “The man who consigned it at the antique shop gave them falsified information. His cousin painted it back in 1983.”

“Unbelievable,” Gabriella muttered. “Are you taking it back?”

“They reimbursed me,” Mom said. “And said I could keep it, but I’m not sure I want to. It’s like some of the magic is gone, you know? I might see if Auntie Maureen wants it for her new place in Lancaster. She ended up buying the condo, did I tell you that?”

The fact that Bradley hadn’t interrupted them yet was a testimony to how well he and her mother got along. But he shook his head. “Never mind on that one, then.”

“Are there any little corners or pockets of the house that you haven’t gone to, yet?” Madelyn asked. “There might be something else tucked away that’s holding her here.”

“No,” Mom said. “I’ve been here six months now, I’m fully unpacked, and unless there’s a secret passage nobody told me about, I’ve seen every inch of the house.”

“I think we should go through it anyway,” Bradley said. “There’s a protocol we can follow. It’s a glorified checklist, but it’ll do.”

“Outside too,” Gabriella said. “According to the maps, the front half of the backyard – the part that’s closest to the house – was the original property of the tavern. Maybe there’s something out there. Is that possible?”

“Of course,” Madelyn said. “We once had a case where flowers planted in the front yard held a curse. Do you remember that one, Bradley?”

“All too well,” he muttered. “You brought a fucking flamethrower.”

“And it worked,” Madelyn said primly. “I say we split up. Let’s all pick a place to start and we’ll use that protocol sheet.”

“I printed copies for everyone,” Bradley said. “Or, everyone I knew was here.”

He looked pointedly at Saskia, who was looking everywhere else. “We need to get Patrick’s approval before we start anything,” she said, though she sounded less confident than before. “He’s in charge of the case.”

“I sent in the appeal already,” Mom said.

“That puts it into a kind of limbo,” said Bradley. “It’s still in the system, so they’ll still have him listed as the head of the case. Since it’s Hillsborough’s territory. But with the appeal, I’m not sure. Let me call Amelia and see what she thinks.”

He took out his phone and was about to start dialing when it rang, startling all of them. Bradley looked at the screen and rolled his eyes. “Excuse me,” he said.

He picked up. “What?”

There was a pause as he listened and Gabriella realized it was James on the other end. This time, James was the one yelling at Bradley and it was a bit surreal to be on this end of it. Bradley didn’t seem bothered. “It’s my day off,” he said when James apparently stopped to take a breath. “And you’re not on right now either. Why the hell are you calling me? How do you even know I’m here?”

Another pause, James’s pissed-off tone coming through the phone even clearer. “Look, McManus,” Bradley cut in finally. “The case is in appeals, but the entity is still in the house. The fucking clown show up here isn’t going to get it done, and it needs to be finished before we’re all sick again for round three. We’ve got more information and apparently all had the same idea. If Amelia told you we were up here, didn’t she tell you why?”

Gabriella motioned for him to give her the phone. He ignored her, listening to James’s response. “Fine, whatever.”

Then another pause. “I was out at seven,” he said. “I’ll be on at eight tonight. I’m fine, I’m not a child.”

“Bradley,” she hissed, making a grabbing motion toward the phone.

“Fine, Jesus. McManus, your cousin wants to talk to you.”

He handed Gabriella the phone. “Hey, how are you?” she asked.

“Miserable,” James replied. His voice was hoarse. “What the hell is going on?”

“We’ve got a strong lead on my mom’s case, but it’s stalled because she put in an appeal to take Patrick off of it.”

“I don’t need it solved today,” her mom interrupted. “Especially if it’s causing problems. We can wait for the appeal.”

“We’ll have all died of old age before the appeal goes through,” Bradley said.

“I heard him,” said James before Gabriella could relay anything. “He’s not wrong. I just don’t want you all getting in trouble for this.”

“We’ll be careful.”

“I’ll come up and meet you-”

“No,” she said sternly. “You’re sick. And besides, I don’t want you getting in trouble. Not when-”

She shut up quickly, realizing as she spoke that she probably wasn’t supposed to know about the disciplinary actions. Thankfully, James didn’t seem to notice.

“Fine,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I get it. Amelia filled me in. You’re not going to try anything dangerous, right?”

“Just searching today,” she said. “We’ll leave the official dangerous stuff to the boss.”

She glanced at Saskia, who was pretending to ignore her. “Call me immediately if anything goes wrong,” James said.

Like he was one to talk. But he was the boss, so she agreed. Then she handed Bradley back his phone.

“It’s under control,” Bradley said before James could say anything else. “Fine. Alright. Wait.”

He paused for a second, glancing at Gabriella’s mother. “When a case is in limbo with a complaint against the team captain, who’s in charge?”

Gabriella couldn’t hear James’s answer, but Bradley shook his head. “Fucking typical,” he said. “Of course they wouldn’t plan for it. That’s what I thought too. Alright, fine. Bye.”

He hung up and put his phone in his coat pocket. “There’s no official protocol.”

“You’re kidding,” Gabriella groaned.

“They just don’t have an official plan for this situation. So status quo. Patrick’s still in charge.”

“I’m calling him,” Saskia said.

“Whatever, I can’t stop you,” Bradley told her. “Alright, let’s just start looking then, before things go to shit even more than they already have.”

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 16