A little while later, Gabriella was finishing up at the Greenville Historical Society. The archivist there had found a few more mentions of her mother’s house in old newspapers, dating back to sales announcements in 1875. Despite this new information, though, there wasn’t much to work with. They still didn’t have the house’s exact origin, so Gabriella couldn’t create a full history. She was trying not to be frustrated at both the lack of progress and the thought of working with Patrick’s team when they got back.

Not to mention the fact that Elliot was coming over in a little while. Which meant she’d have to tell him everything. The idea lay heavy in the pit of her stomach as she thought about it. The archivist stepped out of the reading room to make copies, leaving Gabriella alone with her thoughts. He was going to break up with her, wasn’t he? He’d think she was crazy, that they were all crazy, and that she wasn’t right for him. It had only been a few months though, right? Less than six months together. She could get over that. Of course she could.

She’d tried to tell him at dinner a couple weeks ago, shouldn’t she at least get some credit? Though, as Gabriella sat in the small office, a space heater burning her legs while the rest of her froze, she had to admit she hadn’t really tried. No, she’d still just dropped little crumbs to see how he’d react. And the second he’d questioned anything she said, she’d caved and given up. This situation was her fault and now, instead of sitting down with him and telling him everything on her own terms, she had to do it in the middle of an active investigation at her own mother’s house.

She’d barely gotten started on the idea that maybe Elliot would accept what was going on when the archivist came back with her copies tucked in a manila folder. “Good luck with your search,” he said with a smile that she tried to match.

Bradley was on the phone with Amelia when she got out of the office and back into the van. “It’s a fucking clown show,” he was saying as she slid into the passenger seat. “This guy’s useless and so is his team. You dodged a bullet, honestly.”

“I don’t know why they think I took the job, then left,” Amelia said over the speaker on Bradley’s phone, where he had it clipped to the dashboard. “I met with them for less than an hour before I had to head back home. Then I dropped out. Like the next day. Honestly, I know they would have offered me the job if I’d stayed in the running, but I turned them down. The captain knew I wasn’t staying. He had to have told the team that.”

“Or he saw his escape and took it,” Bradley said, turning on the van. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. This guy’s a fucking jackass and if he and his team are going to be shitty to you, it’s not worth listening to.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Obviously,” Bradley said, and Gabriella rolled her eyes as she looked out the window at the heavy gray sky.

“Alright, see you when you get back.”

Bradley hung up as they began to move through the small town. “What did you get?” he asked, turning down a road running parallel to a large river.

Gabriella glanced over. “What? Nothing. A couple newspapers.”

“Great,” Bradley muttered. “At least it’s a start, I guess.”

“Yeah, sure.”

They passed an old man walking a dog, then a young couple strolling hand in hand. The snow was starting, but it was still light, gentle flakes and hopefully it would stay that way until they got back to headquarters in a little while.

“I’m interviewing Elliot at two,” Bradley said. “Is that yours?”

She nodded, unable to speak through the lump in her throat. “And I take it he still doesn’t know anything about this?”

She shook her head. “Fucking…” Bradley muttered, letting it trail off.

“I didn’t want to lose him,” Gabriella said, hating how her voice cracked. “I was going to tell him, but every time he made some joke about it and I knew he’d think I was lying or stupid or something.”

“Yeah, well, here we are,” Bradley said.

She wasn’t quite sure if he was calling her stupid or not, but that didn’t make the anger any softer now that it had another direction to go in. “Shut the fuck up, will you? For once?” she snapped, then turned and stared back out the window.

She was acting like a child and she knew it. But why couldn’t she be here with someone who gave a shit about her? Bradley stayed quiet, and she didn’t want to look over at him to see his disdain, not when she was already so angry with herself. She just wanted to stare at the buildings they were passing for a few minutes instead of dealing with the very real possibility that her relationship was about to end.

“Look,” Bradley said. “This field sucks for dating. I told my boyfriend what I did, and he broke up with me. We’d been together for two years and once I started full-time with Essex County, that was the end. That’s just how it is.”

She didn’t know if he was trying to make her feel better or worse. But thinking back to her conversation with Amelia and Madelyn about dating in this job, she was pretty sure this was information he hadn’t told the others on their team.

“Did you ever try to get him back?” she asked without looking at him.

“No,” Bradley said. “If he couldn’t deal with it, then fuck him.”

Gabriella looked down at the snowflakes scattering along the sidewalk. Maybe it would be different for her. Maybe Elliot would understand.

---

Elliot arrived at her mother’s house about five minutes after she and Bradley had returned. As Gabriella was sorting through the papers she’d gotten, looking into more research pathways, Patrick barked orders at his team as they searched the bottom floor of the house with cameras and energy detectors. Meanwhile, James and Graham were comparing readings at the kitchen table while Bradley was wrapping up asking her mother a few more questions. She saw the two of them laughing over one of the answers in a way she knew would never happen when it was Elliot’s turn. Gabriella’s stomach was already churning as she waited for Elliot, but as she saw him walk up the drive, she thought she might be sick.

This was it. She had never been so angry with herself.

“Hey!” Elliot grinned and leaned down to kiss her as she let him in. “What is going on? There’s so many cars and…”

His smile faltered as he took in the activity throughout the house. “You said there was something about your mom’s injury?” he said. “I figured it was insurance-related. What’s all of this?”

She wanted to lie. She wanted to lie and tell him it was an inspection. Insurance. Termites. Anything at all. But she saw Bradley coming out of the kitchen to get him for the interview. Gabriella held up a finger and Bradley rolled his eyes, but stayed where he was.

“Can we talk?” she asked Elliot.

“Of course,” he replied, expression worried. “Gabriella, what’s wrong?”

“Outside.”

She walked outside, body trembling as he followed her. The noise from within the house cut off immediately as she closed the door, leaving them alone in the still February air.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated.

Gabriella opened her mouth to tell him, but it was like the words got stuck halfway out. As she tried to find them, Elliot put a warm hand on her arm. “You can tell me anything,” he said. “I promise.”

She took a deep breath. “They’re here investigating my mom’s house for paranormal phenomenon,” she said slowly, trying to choose her words as well as possible in order to make it seem like this was a completely normal thing to do. “We’re here for it. It was something unusual in the house that caused my mom’s accident a few weeks ago.”

Elliot looked at her for a moment, as if he was also trying to find the right words. “Gabriella,” he said, voice heavy with concern as his hand slid down to hers and gave it a squeeze. “You didn’t pay these people, right? They’re scam artists, babe. They take advantage of situations like this to make money.”

The indignation she felt at that had to be set aside for a moment while she focused on the first issue at hand. “No, Elliot,” she said, realizing she’d screwed up yet again. “I’m one of them. That’s my work, not historical restoration. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I should have, but I was so scared you wouldn’t believe me. All of this stuff is real and handling it is my job.”

Elliot was still staring at her, and she desperately wanted him to respond. Anything was better than hanging like this. Finally, he shook his head.

“No, Gabriella,” he started, maddening patience in his voice. “Are you saying you work for ghost hunters?”

“I’m saying I’m one of them. And it’s all real.”

Now he looked concerned, more than anything. “No, listen,” he said. “I don’t know what they’re telling you, but they’re taking advantage of you. Are you giving them money?”

“No, they pay me,” Gabriella said as his hand slid out of hers. “It’s my job, Elliot. I’m an investigator for the Foundation for Paranormal Studies in Boston. We investigate strange cases and clear out problems for people. I’ve worked there for almost a year now.”

“Are you saying you scam people?”

“I’m not a fucking scam artist!” Gabriella exclaimed.

Elliot shook his head. “Look,” he said. “I don’t know what you want me to say here. Ghosts aren’t real. So either you’re being taken advantage of or you are taking advantage of other people.”

She wanted to scream, but that wasn’t an option right now. And despite the hot tears building in her eyes, she sure as shit wasn’t about to cry either. “I’m not a scammer,” she said, hating how small her voice was.

“Is this what you want to interview me for?” Elliot asked. “For- for ghosts?”

“We’re trying to figure out what’s happening in my mom’s house,” Gabriella said. “You were there. The day- Agatha – with the glass, remember?”

“So a glass fell off the counter and now there’s ten people tearing your mom’s house apart?” Elliot asked.

Gabriella shook her head, tears far too close to falling now. “Forget it,” she said, waving him off with a shaky hand as she turned to go back inside. “It’s fine. You don’t need to.”

Before she could leave, Elliot took her hand again. “I’m worried about you, Gabriella,” he said. “This isn’t like you.”

“No, this is exactly like me,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “Elliot, do you know what kinds of things I’ve seen? I’ve had bookshelves thrown at me in an abandoned school. I’ve hunted creatures in farmhouses and grocery stores. Last year my boss tried to murder me in the state forest and-”

“What?”

Elliot’s eyes were wide. “Are you serious?” he demanded.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “He’s dead, it’s fine. Please don’t tell my mom, I didn’t tell her the details and I don’t want to upset her. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Elliot said, with a hoarse laugh. “Gabriella, you’ve been traumatized. And these people are taking advantage of that.”

The urge to scream was back, and now the tears were streaming freely down her face despite her best efforts. “They’re not taking advantage of me,” Gabriella said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

Elliot’s face fell and she could tell he was trying to figure out a better approach to telling her she was crazy. But they were interrupted by the door opening.

“Look, I need to get back to Headquarters to get ready for the night shift soon, so if we can-”

Bradley’s irritated voice cut off as he looked from Gabriella’s misery to Elliot’s frustration. She wiped furiously at her eyes, expecting some kind of comment in her direction. But instead, his eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

“Are you her boss?”

“Not by a long shot. Are you the witness?”

“I’m her boyfriend. What’s your endgame here?”

“We’re investigating a potential spiritual infestation that’s become a physical danger to the homeowner.”

Elliot snorted. “And probably getting paid really nice for it too.”

If she hadn’t been so miserable, Gabriella might have laughed at that. “Yeah, I live a sweet life,” Bradley said. “Are we doing this interview or not?”

“Not,” Elliot said, stepping around Gabriella and putting himself between her and Bradley. “And I want you people to get your shit out of this house and leave Gabriella and her mother alone.”

“Not your choice to make, big boy.”

This couldn’t be happening. Elliot was looming over Bradley, who looked more irritated at the interruption than concerned he was about to get hit. And she’d probably never, in a million years, get over seeing Bradley call anybody “big boy.”

A scream inside broke the tension and Bradley swore, hurrying back in. Gabriella followed after him, Elliot shortly behind her. As she got inside, she could hear the rest of the group making their way toward the back hallway, where the scream must have originated. She was briefly relieved to see her mother among them.

When they got to the back hallway, Saskia was pulling herself to her feet. A cabinet stood against the wall beside her, but it was empty, glass doors swinging on their hinges. Everything that had been on the shelves inside was shattered on the floor around Saskia. She looked over at everyone coming in the room and Gabriella saw a thin cut running down the side of her face with a line of blood dripping down.

“Jesus,” Gabriella said, hurrying over to her. “Are you okay?”

“I asked if her name was Agatha and everything flew off the shelves at once,” Saskia said as Gabriella helped her steady herself. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“That’s a rough scratch though,” James said, moving toward them. He gently took Saskia’s chin in his hand and tilted her head to get a better look at it. “We’ve got a first aid kit in the van.”

“We have one too, obviously,” Patrick said. “Gretchen, go get it.”

The other woman from their team hurried out of the room as James led Saskia toward an old loveseat nearby. “I’ve got the footage,” she said. “It was like a wave of energy pushed it all down right after I spoke to her.”

“It fits with the patterns Auntie Carrie told us about,” James said.

Gabriella glanced at Elliot, who was standing in the doorway, his expression furious. “This is too much,” he said. “Gabriella, come on. This has to stop.”

“That’s what we’re doing,” James said, turning toward Elliot. “Oh, you must be Elliot. Hey, I’m James, Gabriella’s cousin.”

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

James’s smile faded, and he lowered the hand he’d put out to shake. “Elliot,” Gabriella warned.

“No, seriously,” Elliot said. “This whole ghost-hunter shit? She nearly gets murdered by her boss in the woods and you’re using that to, what, get her to scam people into thinking their houses are haunted?”

“Elliot!”

“Wait, no, that’s not-”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Gabriella, James, and her mother all spoke at once as Gabriella felt the situation rapidly unraveling. “Sweetheart, what happened in the woods?” Mom asked.

Gabriella wouldn’t mind dying right now, she really wouldn’t. “Can we talk about it later?” she asked, darting a look at Elliot, who at least looked a little uncertain now. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s-”

She was interrupted by the tinkling sound of a plate breaking. As everybody turned to the other bookcase, this one on the opposite side of the back hallway, another plate meandered off of the shelf, shattering on the floor in front of it. Then another, and another. They sped up until there was a waterfall of Christmas china pouring off the shelf and smashing into lethal shards on the hardwood floor below.

“Is anyone getting a reading?” Patrick snapped.

“Yeah,” Bradley replied, from where he was standing behind Gabriella with an EMP monitor.

Gretchen came back into the room, holding a heavy first aid kit. “Got it!” she said. “Okay, Saskia, I can help you get cleaned up.”

That was when a delicate china cup slid down the length of the top shelf and over the edge. But instead of falling to the ground, it hovered where it was, about five feet in the air. As it rotated painfully slowly, the tiny handle disappearing and reappearing from her sight, Gabriella whipped out her phone and started taking video. Saskia was still sitting in the loveseat with a paper towel against the cut on her head. James was beside her, with Elliot in the doorway only a couple feet away. As Gabriella watched in horror, the china cup flew toward Elliot’s head. It missed him by a few centimeters, shattering against the door frame. The lights flickered as the shards slid unnaturally slowly to the ground. A low moan, almost too soft to hear despite the way it tore through Gabriella’s entire body, reverberated from somewhere in the house. Another cup started the same routine, drifting into the air, spinning lazily, then hauling itself toward Elliot. This time, James stepped in front of him to catch it. The cup hit James in the shoulder, breaking against his heavy sweater.

Then Elliot began to rise off the ground. It wasn’t far, maybe six inches or so, but there was no denying what was happening as his head brushed the top of the door frame. He went pale and his horrified eyes met Gabriella’s. “It’s okay!” she said, dropping her phone as she hurried over to grab him. “Whoever you are, stop it! Knock it off! You made your point, okay?”

Gabriella pulled on him and whatever was holding him in the air let go, letting him fall. His knees buckled, but he caught himself.

“What the fuck was that?” Elliot demanded.

“That was what we’re here investigating,” Gabriella said, her voice hoarse.

She kept her gaze locked on his, silently pleading for him to accept what was going on. “This is dangerous,” he said finally. “Come on, Gabriella, we need to leave.”

“This is my job,” she said again. “And it’s my mom’s house. I’m not leaving until it’s safe.”

“Then I’m getting out of here,” Elliot said. “I’m sorry, Gabriella. But I’m not dealing with this.”

And before she could stop him, Elliot slipped out of the room. She heard his footsteps hurry down the hallway, then the creak of the front door opening. Then that solid, definitive, thud of it closing.

“Excuse me a moment,” she said to the people around her, who were all silent.

Then she hurried out of the room.

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 9