The team chatted for a few minutes while Bradley got the crappy little projector going, swearing under his breath the whole time. “I know these doubles are brutal,” James said from the dining room table, looking genuinely apologetic. “Hopefully this barrage of cases won’t last much longer and we can go back to normal. Of course they rejected any attempt to hire someone new, even part-time, so I don’t know when that’ll be. But stay hydrated, eat your meals on time, and get some sleep where you can during these shifts. And make sure your timecards are fully filled out. You’re getting overtime pay, I don’t care what they try to pull, alright?”

Said the man who looked like he never got more than a few hours of sleep every night. But Gabriella wasn’t about the argue, she’d seen the uptick in cases lately, just like the others.

Finally, the image of a cheerful ghost flickered onto the thin projection screen hiding the old fireplace from view. “So we have two cases that need to be worked simultaneously tonight,” James said from the kitchen chair he’d dragged over from the dining room and dropped beside the screen. “First, Graham, buddy, your monster.”

“I didn’t see it anywhere,” Graham admitted.

“I know,” James said. “And you and I are going to be searching for it together later. The Foundation has decided that this cryptid, unlike all the others we see on a regular basis, does in fact need to be caught. So we’re going monster hunting.”

Despite his position as the team’s developing cryptid expert, Graham looked less than thrilled with this plan. “When does this hunt begin?” he asked. “And do we have to go back out in the rain?”

“That’s the best part,” James said. “It’s a sunset mission. We’ll be packing up the cryptid kit, our rain slickers, and our flashlights. The Foundation says this is the best time to try to capture it.”

“And how is that going to happen?” Graham asked.

“Will you let me get this damn slideshow going?” Bradley asked. “It’s all on there.”

“Sorry,” James said. “Spoilers.”

“Anyway,” Bradley said, clicking over to a sketch of what had to be the creature. “This is the cryptid. I’m not going to try to pronounce its official name, that’s Graham’s job.”

“Don’t look at me,” Graham said.

The cryptid was long, with a thin body and legs reminiscent of a daddy longlegs. The sketch artist had given it a bit of a smile, so it almost looked endearing. For a terrifying monster.

“It’s apparently gone after some house pets in the area, which is why the Foundation is so eager to get it out of the Leominster State Forest,” Bradley continued. “It’s fast, its teeth are sharp, and it lives on a diet of kittens.”

“Block Fang’s ears for this part,” James said.

The cat was purring around Bradley’s legs. He reached down and pet her, leaving her ears uncovered.

“McManus and Graham are going to take this one in the field while I’m here on comms,” Bradley continued. “You’re going to hunt down the cryptid, sedate it, and get it caged for the Barre team to take. You do. Not. Shoot. Each. Other.”

Each word was punctuated with a sharp jab of a finger at each of them, unfairly, Gabriella thought. He landed on Amelia last and she laughed a little sheepishly as Bradley shook his head.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never.”

“Reasonable enough,” James said. “We’re low enough on staff, I don’t want to have to toss anyone on the couch to sleep it off again.”

Bradley glared at him, then turned back to the presentation, clicking through to a clip-art picture of a cage with translucent watermarks plastered over it. “See this? This is a cage. The creature goes in there,” he said. “And then in the van. Not the other way around. Cage. Then van. And then it goes to Barre.”

“Creature Containment in Barre is going to try to meet us at the site,” James said, “But she makes no promises.”

“Then you’re driving to Barre.”

James shook his head. “I’m sorry, you give me orders now?”

Bradley ignored him, clicking through to the end of the presentation. “There’s case number one,” he said. “Give me a second to pull up case number two.”

The screen went dark as he started opening the file, which Gabriella saw immediately freeze on his own computer screen. “I’m going to spoil it,” James said as the screen faded out, the little ghost returning to spin in circles. “Because we need to get moving on these. It’s the Wildwood Hotel again.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Of course it is,” she muttered.

“For those of you who weren’t here three years ago, the Wildwood Hotel is a small inn on the edge of Fitchburg, toward the Westminster line,” James said. “They had what we thought was poltergeist activity there, and the Foundation sent us to clean it up. This was back when they did the actual investigations. Amelia and Madelyn took the lead on that, if I recall correctly.”

Amelia nodded as Fang strolled over to her, purring and pressing her head into Amelia’s palm. She scratched the cat between the ears. “Bradley too. We cleared everything there, why are we going back?”

“Got it,” Bradley interrupted as a picture of an old hotel showed up on the screen in front of them. “Alright, so it’s basically the same issue as last time. Lots of activity in the building that has gotten more intense. No injuries so far this time, but their online reviews are tanking for obvious reasons.”

He clicked through to a screenshot of an online review page scattered with two and one star reviews. Among the words Gabriella could make out were HAUNTED and DON’T STAY HERE.

“The family who owns it doesn’t want this happening much longer, for obvious reasons,” James said, gesturing toward the bottom one star review, which was labeled TIRED OF THIS SH*T. “Fitchburg being such a vacation hot spot and all.”

Gabriella laughed slightly as she read the reviews on the screen. One five star, clearly written by someone hired to do so. But the more realistic three and four stars were getting overwhelmed by the negative, ghost-centric reviews.

“Are they saying it’s the grandmother again?” Amelia asked, pulling Fang into her lap. “The Foundation was so sure it wasn’t.”

“Yeah.”

Bradley clicked to the next slide, which showed an old professional portrait, probably from the 1970s. The woman pictured was elderly, with a kind face framed by cat eye glasses and a short curled hairstyle. “Sarah Morgan, owner of the Wildwood from 1950 to 1980, along with her husband, Herbert.”

He clicked through to the next photo, which showed Sarah and Herbert, who was a large, imposing man. They looked solemnly at the camera lens from what had to be the front entrance to the hotel.

“He looks friendly,” Graham said.

Bradley gave him a withering look, but Graham just looked mildly back at him. “The current owners, Sarah and Herbert’s eldest granddaughter and her husband, say that there has always been some level of activity since Sarah died. They say it was harmless when they were children, whispers in the hallways and the like. One family member reported a ghostly embrace.”

“That sounds sweet,” James said.

“Sure. Anyway, a few years ago the hauntings intensified after decades of quiet, eventually culminating in damage to one of the rooms and minor injuries to a caretaker for the property. That’s when they got the Foundation involved.”

“You’d been here, what, two weeks at that point?” James asked him. “Brand new to Leominster and instilling your joy and unique sense of whimsy into the team?”

“That has nothing to do with the case,” Bradley replied, as the screen switched to a screensaver of a dancing ghost. “Anyway, their investigation showed poltergeist activity, thought to maybe be connected with the teenage children of the current owners. From all accounts, Sarah was a kindhearted, gentle person. Not the type to turn violent in death. I don’t believe that for a minute, but here we are.”

“Last time they had us just cleanse the space,” Amelia said. “No exorcism, not even any real interaction with the entity, if there was one.”

“I know, I was there.”

Amelia just looked at him and finally, Bradley clicked through again. “Madelyn is out for the next two weeks, more if the Foundation has any semblance of a soul. So she won’t be able to re-investigate with you.”

“I figure Amelia takes Gabriella with her,” James said. “You guys can go tonight, that’s when most of the activity tends to take place anyway, according to witness statements.”

Amelia glanced over at Gabriella. “That works for me,” she said.

A haunted hotel was an intriguing way to spend a double shift. Gabriella would take that over being in the woods in the dark and the rain. “That’s it for cases,” Bradley said, clicking through to the end of his slideshow.

“Everyone thank Bradley,” James said. “Alright, I have one more thing. And it’s kind of…”

He sighed, running a hand through his dirty blond hair in a way Gabriella recognized as a stress move from years of growing up together. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “Not to ruin the day, but I feel like I should tell you all. And it’s not like we’re not all well aware what tomorrow is. But the Foundation is officially closing the investigation into Robin’s death. They said it’s been a year, it’s time to wrap it up. And the anniversary seems like the appropriate day to do so.”

“What do you mean, the investigation?” Amelia asked. “They know what happened, we all do.”

Gabriella wanted to get up and leave, but forced herself to stay where she was. She kept her eyes trained on the visible fireplace stones just behind James, hoping it would look like she was paying attention. Which she was, of course. But she was also not going to look at anyone else around her because she might vomit.

“I know,” James said. “But they’re not going to go into what drove him to it on the official record. They’re just saying it was a suicide and closing up the file.”

“It was an attempted murder, then an attempted massacre, then an accident,” Bradley said, with a glance at Gabriella that she couldn’t bring herself to meet as the smell of the damp June forest started to filter into the room. “Are they seriously just saying he killed himself and calling it a day?”

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” James said, sounding tired. “I gave them everything, they know exactly what happened. I’ve written so many reports about what happened to the point that I’m dreaming about it again. But upper administration is saying that the case is closed. As far as the Foundation cares, it was a suicide.”

The gray stone of the fireplace blurred, and Gabriella had to remind herself to blink. James met her eye for a split second before she looked away.

“Nobody has to do anything,” James said. “And if anyone needs to talk, my door is open. But I wanted to let you all know where things stand.”

How would things have been different if Gabriella hadn’t fallen for Robin’s manipulations? She felt so much older after a year with the Foundation, even if she really wasn’t. If she’d had her current level of experience back then, would she have still fallen for his tricks? Maybe she would be smart enough to see through it now. Or would she always follow mindlessly after an authority figure, like Bradley had spit at her back then?

She risked another glance at James, the urge to apologize bubbling back up. It had been a year, like he’d said. Her mistake wasn’t always the first thing she thought of in the morning, or the main thing on her mind when she was at work. But it was always there anyway, deep under the surface. Multiple conversations with James and two meetings with a Foundation psychiatrist weren’t enough to assuage the trauma and guilt that still had Gabriella firmly in their grip. Neither was throwing herself into the work and doing the best she could, though that helped more. James caught her eye again and held her gaze this time. He knew what she was thinking, of course he did.

“Does anyone have any questions?” James asked.

“Will anything come of it?” Amelia asked him.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, will there be any changes? Increase in mental health services? Increase in…”

She stopped, clearly remembering the reason why Robin had come up with his plan to kill Gabriella in the first place. It had been a desperate attempt to get more resources to keep the team and the region safe. Apparently Madelyn’s near-fatal accident wasn’t enough to spur the Foundation to get them more help, so he’d decided a fatal accident was necessary. Gabriella had been hired to be that fatal accident.

“Not that they’ve mentioned,” James said.

“Typical.”

“I’ll keep pushing for it,” James continued. “We’ve been looking over the budget yet again and applying for increased funding. But they’ve lost several of the sure bet requests, the things that need to be fixed in order to stay within the bylaws of the Foundation itself. And just rejected the others.”

“Lost them?” Graham repeated.

“I’ll be calling again when we’re done here,” Bradley said.

Was this simple incompetence at the Foundation or was there something more to it? Gabriella knew the training James had done a couple months back had gone terribly, to the point that James confronted the administrators in charge of it. And she knew the Foundation was petty enough to retaliate. The findings in Robin’s investigation were likely not part of it, that was the higher-ups covering their own asses. But what about the rest of it?

“Alright, both cases aren’t starting until sunset,” James said, sorting the mess of supplies on the coffee table into piles as he talked. “So we’ve got a few hours. Go do whatever you’re going to do until then. Graham-” He pointed at Graham, who raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been on ten hours. Go take a break. Take one of the bedrooms and get a couple hours of sleep. We’re all going to be taking choppy breaks on these stupid shifts, so get some sleep while you can.”

Graham laughed. “Are you going to come tuck me in?” he asked.

“I’ll come sing you a lullaby, hang on.”

“God, that’s the last thing I need.”

You know I have a nice voice,” James said, stopping to inspect a chip on the otherwise smooth surface of a wooden stake. “I’ve been told it’s very soothing.”

Bradley scoffed from the couch, but Graham stood up. “I’m good on that, but you don’t have to convince me,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

Gabriella glanced back as Graham went into the gray bedroom, then turned back to James. “Is there anything you need me for or should I keep on with O’Toole?”

“Nah, go track your demon neighbor,” James said. “Alright, I’ll be in the gym if anyone needs me.”

***

The cordless phone rang a little while later as Gabriella was reluctantly back in the living room to check for a book in the sagging plywood shelf that made up their branch library. No one else was around, so she grabbed it.

“North Worcester County Branch,” she greeted. “This is Gabriella speaking, how can I help you?”

“Gabriella, it’s Madelyn.”

“Hey!” Gabriella said, sitting down at one of the computer stations. “How are you feeling?”

“Um…not great. I need…”

Madelyn didn’t sound great. Her voice was breathy and pained as she paused midway through her thoughts.

“What’s going on?” Gabriella asked, trying to mimic James or Amelia’s confident compassion. “What do you need?”

“My…the Foundation keeps calling me…”

“What?”

“They’re telling me…” Madelyn trailed off for a second, then took a sharp breath, clearly highly medicated and on the verge of tears as she continued. “They’re saying that I should take leave? Instead of um, instead of sick time? I need to sign and they’ll send the forms, but…”

Nothing about that sounded right and Madelyn didn’t sound like she was in any shape to be arguing with the Foundation. “Hang on,” Gabriella said. “Let me get James.”

“Thank you. I don’t feel good…”

She put the phone on hold, then hurried over to his office, where James was glaring at his computer. “James,” she said. “Madelyn’s on the phone.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Can you send the call to my phone?” he asked.

She was pretty sure she remembered how to do that. She went back out and, after a couple attempts, managed to forward the call.

“Madelyn, it’s okay,” James said gently a moment later, audible through his open office door. “They’re being assholes, I’ll take care of it. You earned that sick time, you use that sick time, alright? This isn’t something you need to do right now.”

He paused, and Gabriella attempted to stop eavesdropping. “Ma-Madelyn, Madelyn, it’s alright, I promise,” he cut in.

His voice softened. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, honey,” he said. “It’s okay, don’t cry. You’re alright, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong. They shouldn’t be hassling you at home and I’m going to call McGovern after this to make sure that’s crystal fucking clear, alright? I want you to focus on getting better.” Another pause, and James laughed. “The ghosts miss you too. But no more ghost talk. Alright, a little ghost talk, but you’re not coming in. How’s the pain?”

Stop eavesdropping, she scolded herself. But the house was too quiet, the others all either in the gym or working in the other bedrooms. “Good,” James said in response to Madelyn. “Go get some rest. I mean it, hey. Don’t worry about that. And don’t pick up anymore of their calls. I’m going to call McGovern in a few minutes. And if they call you again after that, then I’m going to have words with whoever is on the phone. Alright, go get some rest.”

A second later, James was in his office doorway. “Unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “Some ghoul over at the Main Branch has called Madelyn twice, telling her she should fill out the paperwork to switch over from paid time off to a long-term leave of absence.”

“What?” Gabriella couldn’t quite grasp why that was better. “Why would she do that?”

“She shouldn’t,” James said. “She’s got the sick time and then the vacation time if she needs it. But that grand total of six sick days a year she takes is apparently enough that they want her to take an unpaid leave of absence instead. And they’re clearly calling while she’s vulnerable so it’ll be easier to intimidate her into signing.”

She wanted to hope that James was being paranoid, but that made just enough terrible sense to her. “I’m going to call McGovern now,” James said. “If Madelyn calls again, can you make sure she’s okay? Amelia had to run out, but she should be back soon.”

“Of course.”

James smiled at her, then ducked back in his office and closed the door.

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 3