Most of what Gabriella heard on her laptop lined up with what Lorraine had said the day before. She listened to the audio file through her shitty laptop speakers as she drove, the computer buckled safely into her passenger seat. The Foundation had sent investigators from the main branch to the Wildwood Hotel, but there was no audio file of their investigation. Instead, it was just a short briefing with the North County team as they went over the results of the investigation and informed Lorraine and her husband what they were going to do. It had been a typical cleansing, the same type of ritual they’d done countless times. And based on the follow-up reports, everything had gone completely fine.

Her first case had been an identical cleansing where everything had gone fine. Not that she’d believed it. And even as she tried to shake off the guilt that pressed down on her as she drove down the highway toward the other end of Fitchburg, she couldn’t help making the comparison.

It was strange to hear her teammates on the previous case, especially because Amelia sounded so young, but so confident. Bradley and Madelyn sounded exactly the same as they did now. And the interview sounded like it was more of a review session than anything else. But she didn’t get anything new from the recording except for a strange case of non-literal time bending in the twenty minutes it took her to drive from headquarters to the Wildwood Hotel.

The interview wrapped up as she was pulling onto the quiet street that the parking lot was off of. They were close enough to Fitchburg’s downtown that having a past as the go-to hotel for city visitors made sense, but far enough on the outskirts to feel almost rural. A few houses dotted the street, but they were all far back from the road, their nicely landscaped lawns surrounded by trees. She spotted Amelia’s car and parked a spot over from it before getting out and gathering her things.

A thought occurred to her as she was walking into the building, connecting her comms securely to her chest beside the protective brooch she’d taken from the dining room table. She spotted Lorraine sitting at the front desk. “Hello,” Lorraine said as Gabriella approached her.

“Hi,” Gabriella said. “I’m meeting Amelia.”

“Yes, of course. I believe she is upstairs.”

“I have a question for you, actually,” Gabriella said. “And before I say anything, I need to let you know I’m on a recording device that’s transferring video back to our headquarters. Are you alright talking with that on?”

There wasn’t really an alternative beyond just not talking, but thankfully Lorraine nodded. “I was speaking to a priest who was here to perform a blessing of the property a few years ago. Father McEnerney. Do you remember him?”

Lorraine was silent for a moment, trying to remember. Which was odd for someone who remembered the last investigation so clearly, Gabriella realized as she glanced around the foyer to keep from staring at the woman as she considered the question. But then Lorraine nodded.

“Oh, the young one. I do remember him, I think he was with the Foundation for Paranormal Studies. My grandmother had talked about having priests bless her home as a child. I figured this blessing was because her family always found comfort in it.”

“The Foundation might have already asked you this,” Gabriella said. “But do you have any of Sarah’s journals? If she kept any?”

Lorraine shook her head. “If she did, then she took them to the grave with her.”

Damn, there went the main idea Gabriella had. “And was it your mother or father who was her child?”

“My mother,” Lorraine said. “She passed about a year and a half ago.”

“Did she have a journal?”

Lorraine’s smile was almost indulgent, like she was trying to stay gentle with an annoying child. “I can look,” she said. “But she wasn’t exactly the writer-ly sort if that makes any sense.”

“I’d just like to know more about this blessing when Sarah was a child,” Gabriella said. “I’m waiting to hear back from the priest that performed the last blessing, but any information is useful.”

“I can check the cellar,” Lorraine said, though she didn’t sound particularly confident. “That’s where most of the family artifacts are. But I won’t be able to get down there until tonight.”

“Thank you,” Gabriella said, trying not to feel resentful that Lorraine sounded like she was doing Gabriella a factor.

“Why is this happening again?” Lorraine asked. “And do you really think a diary would help?”

No, Gabriella hadn’t been imagining it. There was definitely irritation in Lorraine’s voice now. “I don’t know,” she said. “This isn’t an exact science, there could be a lot of reasons the phenomenon has started up again.”

“I’m not saying your team didn’t do a good job last time,” Lorraine said, as though this wasn’t exactly what she was saying. “Though something must have gone wrong, even if it isn’t an exact science. But there’s no reason why I should have to contact the Foundation again. And pay for it. They sent two children and a trainee to clean up last time, how do I know they’re not doing that again?”

“The money is not anything I have control over,” Gabriella said, grateful to have her comm on. “And I’m not a child, I’m a professional. So is everyone else involved in this case. I know we discussed it earlier, but I need to remind you that I’m on comms right now. This isn’t a private conversation.”

That quick flash of panic in Lorraine’s eyes showed that she’d forgotten that in her frustration. Gabriella was grateful that someone else was hearing this, but she also prayed to every god that might or might not exist that Bradley would just stay silent on his end, no matter what Lorraine might say.

“I would suggest talking to the intake department about the matter of payment. They can escalate it to someone who can help a lot more than a local staffer can,” Gabriella continued, keeping her voice as neutrally and politely professional as possible. “I’m going to go upstairs now. Let us know if there’s anything you need, Amelia and I will be here until five AM.”

And then she was going to crawl into her own bed and never get up again. At least until her next shift, which was scheduled about eight hours after she was planning to fall asleep.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lorraine said, obviously embarrassed by her slip.

Gabriella headed into the hall, grateful that the stairwell was immediately visible as she walked into the by now way too familiar stretch of doors and lamps.

“Fucking-” she heard Bradley start to say over the comms speaker.

“No, Trainee, I’m still in public,” she cut him off.

She’d pay for that later, but Gabriella couldn’t resist. And when she heard James snickering in the background, she knew she was even more screwed. The hallway remained normal as she went straight for the stairwell, counting steps the whole way up to the second floor. Everything moved upward the way it was supposed to, but she was still more surprised than she expected to be when she stepped out and was actually on the second floor.

The signs leading to the room she and Amelia had claimed the night before were still accurate as she followed them, though the hallway was dim and shadowy. Gabriella kept an eye out for anything unusual, avoiding looking directly into the dark corner ahead where the hallway turned to another stretch of rooms. Thankfully, nothing was jumping out at her right now, literally or figuratively, as she got to their room. She slid her card key in the lock, opened it, then closed it and locked it behind her.

“Alright, go ahead,” she said.

“Did she really fucking say that?” Bradley said over the speaker.

Amelia was sitting at the desk, looking over some surveillance footage. She laughed, shaking her head. “Like it’s the first time any of us have heard that,” she said.

“You’re all just so youthful and pretty,” James said. “Especially Bradley.”

“Is there anything new on the cams?” Gabriella asked Amelia before she could hear whatever vile response Bradley was going to have for James. She walked up to the desk to look at the grainy footage on the hallway cameras.

“Not in the daylight hours,” Amelia said. She circled her cursor around a tracking bar at the bottom of the screen. It was a smooth line until closer to the end, where jagged slashes showed up every few centimeters. “But it was like the second the sun set, it all started.”

She pointed to the slashes. “Madelyn set these up so that any time the motion sensors went off, it would bookmark the time on the video.”

Gabriella looks closer. The slashes were almost constant as the bar moved on, the centimeters between them rapidly disappearing. “This is right now?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Amelia said. “Did you see anything on your way in? This room is pretty solidly protected, so I haven’t seen anything in here since we got in.”

“Nothing,” Gabriella said. “No, it was completely normal in the hall. Creepy, but normal.”

“We need to do rounds again tonight, just for a few hours in order to get enough data to make our decisions. Do you want to go first or stay here?”

“I’ll go,” Gabriella probably volunteered a little too eagerly, but her conversation from earlier with James was still lingering.

“Chances are that the time bend won’t happen again,” Amelia said. “But if it does, repeat what you did yesterday. Follow the room numbers downward and find that garden again. I plan to do the same if I get stuck.”

“I’ll be on comms with you,” Bradley said. “McManus is working with Graham on his case for a little while, so I’ll be here the whole time.”

That was comforting as Gabriella considered the thought of walking down that endless hallway again tonight. But apparently interruptions to the usual flow of time were just another part of the job, another potential nuisance on a case. Even after a year here, the fact that they were so matter of fact about it reminded her that there was still so much she didn’t know.

“I’m leaving now,” Gabriella said, adjusting her comms and setting down her bag. “Where should I focus?”

“Corners,” Amelia said, with a grimace. “The darker, the better.”

“Of course,” Gabriella muttered, then walked out of the room.

The hallways were, if possible, even more ominous tonight. She tried to imagine them in the daylight, warm and inviting. An old-timey mayor in a big top hat escorting some dear friends or business associates to their comfortable room. There were probably chocolates on the pillows and towels folded to look like animals. And absolutely none of this haunted bullshit.

She reached the end of the hall she’d been avoiding before and saw that one of the room doors was open, just enough to be inviting. “Hey, Bradley?” she said.

“Go on in.”

Shit. She’d been hoping he’d say don’t do it, idiot, you’re going to get killed by the ghost. But apparently they were going all out on this one. So, checking for her protective brooch one more time, she pushed the door open.

There was blood everywhere. It coated the pale flowered bedspread and dripped down the walls.The soft rug was tacky with it as she shone her phone flashlight down on it. “Do you see that?” she whispered, not daring to move further into the room yet.

“No,” Bradley replied. “What do you see?”

“Blood. It’s coating the first bed.”

“It’s an illusion,” he said. “I see nothing on my end.”

She wanted to believe him, but she could smell it, thick and coppery in the still air. “What color is the bedspread?” she asked.

“White with stupid looking blue flowers.”

She could see one of said stupid blue flowers poking out amidst the gore on the bed. “You promise you don’t see anything?”

Her voice sounded small, why did it sound so small? “Why the fuck would I lie?” Bradley asked.

“True.”

That was when Gabriella saw her. Sarah Morgan wore a dress the same shade as the flowers, but it too was splattered with blood. On the bed, Gabriella could now see the mutilated body of a large man. His face was unrecognizable in the sickly yellow light streaming in from the hall, but it could really only be one person.

The image flickered in front of her. Her hand shaking, Gabriella pulled out her EMF reader, holding it up as the lines squiggled and jumped on the screen.

“What’s going on?” Amelia asked on her comm.

“Sarah Morgan,” Gabriella whispered. “She just killed her husband.”

“That’s plenty of data,” Amelia said. “Get out of there.”

Not bothering to close the door, Gabriella started back down the hall, willing her heart to slow down. It was a case, that was all. The violence in the room wasn’t real. She’d seen this kind of shit since she started. Hell, she’d kissed an entity disguising itself as Elliot in order to capture it. Seeing what was essentially a personalized horror movie was nothing compared to that encounter.

And now she needed to compartmentalize again. Because there was no way, amidst all of this, that she was actually glancing at her phone to see if Elliot had called or texted her yet.

“I got those readings,” Bradley said as she put her phone back in her pocket. “The energy levels were already high, then jumped when you said you saw Sarah.”

Gabriella kept walking, turning the corner to the next hallway before stopping short. Sarah was there again, maybe five feet away from where Gabriella stood. Her dress was green this time, and Gabriella heard the windows smash before she saw it, the colorful glass exploding, even as the pane remained was perfectly whole underneath the image.

She detailed what she saw in a low voice, trying to keep the tremble out of it as she watched the glass shards evaporate before they hit the ground. Now that she knew what she was seeing, it was easier to detach herself from it. No one had died back there, and no windows were broken. It was like a movie.

Or a dream.

And then the image was gone and the hallway was silent once more, the darkness from the windows lit only by the lights between the doors.

There was nothing else as she rounded the second floor, then braced herself for the stairwell.

“I’m starting to feel a little bad sending you for the first round,” Amelia said with a laugh.

“No, I volunteered.”

The stairwell was darker than it had been when she arrived a little while earlier. And when her phone went off, she screamed, the sound echoing in the concrete hallway.

“Jesus, fuck!” Bradley snapped.

“Sorry!” she said, scrambling to pull out her phone.

It was an unfamiliar number, but there were so many people who could possibly be calling for work reasons that she had to answer. “Hang on,” she said. “I’m going to answer this real quick. Comms are going off, I’m heading outside.”

“Got it.”

If it was Elliot, she was going to hang up on him. But she’d tell him why she was hanging up before she did that. And then she’d promise to call him back, because she was going to try to show him the same grace that James had shown her last year.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Gabriella?”

The voice was familiar, but thankfully not her ex. “Yes?”

The man laughed. “It’s Father McEnerney.”

Right, James sent him her phone number, hadn’t he? “Yeah, sorry, hi,” she said as she got out of the stairwell and went to the lobby. Lorraine was still at the desk and she clearly avoided Gabriella’s eye as she walked through the foyer and stepped out into the cool evening air.

“So it turns out I might have something for you,” Father McEnerney said as Gabriella stopped underneath the awning to avoid the light rain. “I found my notes from that blessing and the reason they had me come in is because the mother had her home blessed as a child. Apparently there was poltergeist activity in the childhood home that went away after a blessing.”

“So there was already a pattern of activity,” Gabriella said. “But the owners didn’t tell us that. Which is weird, since they’re so eager to have this solved. But it was the grandmother whose spirit is here, not the mother.”

“No, I have here that the entity in question was the mother. I spoke to Dolores O’Donnell when I was there, she was the one who set it up. Is that your contact?”

“No, but hang on one sec.”

Gabriella hurried back into the lobby. “Lorraine,” she said, “Who is Dolores O’Donnell?”

“My mother,” Lorraine said, looking surprised. “Why?”

“I have the priest on the phone. I’ll be right back.”

She hurried back out to the front step. “You worked with the current owner’s mother,” she said. “But she died a couple years ago. So Sarah Morgan reported poltergeist activity in life?”

“She sure did,” Father McEnerney said. “I have here that it was a pretty classic phenomenon. Things moving around her room, peculiar sounds throughout the night, strange smells. This would have been approximately 1935, when Sarah was a young child. The family thought maybe it was demonic, but the church didn’t believe so and refused to perform any kind of exorcism. Still, a blessing stopped the activity.”

“Until after Sarah died,” Gabriella said. “How was she able to suppress it for so long?”

“I couldn’t answer you,” Father McEnerney admitted. “That’s outside of my area of expertise. Maybe the family has more details on that.”

She doubted it, but it would be worth dealing with Lorraine’s increased prickliness to find out. “Alright,” she said. “That’s definitely something to think about. Thanks.”

“I’ll be in the Berkshires until tomorrow,” Father McEnerney said. “But if you need anything from me, just call.”

They hung up and she went back inside, flipping her comms back on. “Your mother hired Father McEnerney?” she asked Lorraine. “Not you?”

“She did,” Lorraine replied. “Around the same time that your team was here. He was part of your Foundation, right?”

“Did you know there was poltergeist activity surrounding your grandmother when she was a kid?”

If Lorraine did know that, then she was a fantastic actor. The woman looked stunned. “I never heard anything about that,” she said. “But she was so shy and I guess it makes sense that she would hide that from us. Mom knew?”

“That’s why she had Father McEnerney in. She thought he could help. A blessing helped last time, when she was young.”

“Is he coming back?” Lorraine asked. “I want this done, not just painted over.”

“Of course,” Gabriella said, once again wishing for a mute button on the comms. “I’m on comms with the rest of the team, so we’ll be looking into that event while we’re sorting out our plan here.”

Lorraine nodded and Gabriella went back to her rounds, praying the hallways wouldn’t act up any further until she was safely back in the hotel room.

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CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 11