“What does that tell you?”

  He shrugged. “Well, there’s lots of speculation as to why this happens with ghosts, but the most widely held belief is that spirits need energy to show themselves, so they take that energy right out of the air, which results in coldness. Hence, the FLIR.”

  “Oh, will… will the equipment be out in the open? Where… where everyone can see it?” I mean, the last thing I wanted was a scene out of Ghostbusters. I couldn’t imagine that would be good for business.

  “Don’t worry,” Marty responded on another laugh as he shook his head and his mop of graying brown hair shook with him. “I’ll try to keep everything as much out of sight as I can. I know you probably don’t want your customers seeing what we’re up to.”

  “Right.”

  I wasn’t even sure I wanted my employees seeing what we were up to. “Discrete is good.”

  Marty nodded towards the office so I started up the steps. When I reached the front door, I fumbled with the lock as I tried to balance the coffee and my briefcase with one arm.

  “Here, let me take those,” Marty said, reaching out to repossess the coffee and take the briefcase from me.

  “Thanks,” I said as his hand brushed mine and I thought I might die right there.

  Instead, I focused on unlocking the door, finally managing to get it open. Then I waved Marty inside and stepped over to the control box that operated the alarm. I punched in the key code to disable the alarm.

  “Have you had any trouble with that alarm at all?”

  “Trouble with it?” I repeated.

  “Like it going off when there’s no reason for it to?” he asked, nodding toward the alarm controls.

  “No. Not lately. We had a problem a while back with it going off during the night, but that just turned out to be Angelo… being Angelo,” I answered with a slight groan, not wanting a reminder of the days when my brother was blatantly trying to work against me. Now, for the most part, we were cordial. At least, I was fairly sure he wasn’t trying to stab me in the back any longer, but I could never be too sure.

  “Angelo. Right. He’s a handful, isn’t he?”

  I laughed at the understatement and nodded in agreement. Marty had no idea just how much a problem Angelo could be when he wanted to.

  “Should we set up all that… stuff in my office?” I asked Marty as I took back the coffee and briefcase, trying to exhibit a bit more grace this time.

  “Is that where the activity was located?”

  I shrugged. “Well, Rhea appeared to enter from the front door. At least, I figured she did. I actually never saw her walk in. I was on the phone and when I looked up, there she was.”

  “In the lobby?”

  “Right.”

  Marty nodded. “Then let’s put up some cameras in the lobby and one of the EMF meters.” He paused for a moment as he inspected the room and then faced me again. “Most of the time, she was in your office?”

  “Right.”

  I led him down the hall and, opening my door, stepped inside my office as I flicked on the lights. They blinked a couple of times and then flooded the interior with a soft, yellow fluorescent glow. Marty stepped in behind me as I made my way over to my desk.

  He sat his coffee down on one of the coasters I kept on my desk, then he placed his backpack on the floor beside one of the two chairs in front of my desk, looking closely at both of them before turning back to me.

  “Which chair was she sitting in yesterday?”

  “The one on your left.”

  “Okay, I’m going to set up one camera that will capture any movement in the entire office, whether you’re in here or not and then a second one that will focus only on that chair. I also have an EMF meter that should capture any presences that might make themselves known but not necessarily be visible to the cameras. And we’ll set up a couple voice recorders in here and the FLIR. If Rhea turns up again, hopefully we’ll capture some evidence of it.”

  “If she’s a ghost.”

  “Yes, if she’s a ghost.”

  “What if she isn’t?”

  “What else could she be?”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s just something different about her—something I can’t quite put my finger on. Like I said, she didn’t look like a ghost to me. Or sound like one.” I cleared my throat. “Her voice was loud and strong and not like… wavy or anything.”

  “If we see or hear anything on the recordings, it’ll prove there is something here. And if we do see something or get any sort of reads, I’ll bring Henner in with the big guns.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what the ‘big guns’ were, but knowing Henner and his proclivity for mad-scientist creations, I had a feeling I’d be impressed.

  “And if we don’t catch anything suspicious, it’ll mean I’ve just lost my mind.”

  Marty cocked his head to the side. “Not necessarily. It might just mean your ghost woman hasn’t returned or doesn’t want to be seen.”

  “Okay.”

  He turned around and appeared to be scanning the room, before he faced me again. “I’ll put the EMF on your bookshelf and hide the recorder behind the books. The EMF will just look like a Dictaphone of sorts sitting up there—if anyone even notices it.”

  “And the cameras?” I asked. “You can’t really hide those.”

  He nodded. “Right. You can tell anyone who asks that the cameras are set up to shoot a commercial or take some shots of the office for an ad.”

  “With no photographer in sight?”

  He chuckled. “Just say the photographer asked to set them up ahead of time? I don’t know—I’m sure you could come up with something.”

  “I hate to lie.”

  “Well, what’s the other option? To say ghost hunters came by to see if you’re being haunted or just losing your mind?”

  “Photography studio it is!” I replied, laughing nervously.

  “I thought as much,” he chuckled. “I’ll get started setting everything up and then I’ll get out of your hair. I have to drive Lorcan around for a while, and then I’ve got to get a couple of things done at home.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Thank you, Marty… I really appreciate it.”

  He grinned, reminding me of a little boy shining under his mother’s praise. “Give me a call when you get ready to close up here and I’ll come get all this equipment. We can go back to your house and review some of it if you want. Or will Angelo be there?”

  “No, thankfully Angelo went out of town for a day or two.” Actually, it was more honest to say Angelo had met some woman he was currently shacking up with and feeding from. Usually when that happened, he was gone for a weekend, sometimes even longer. It depended on how quickly he tired of her.

  “Perfect then,” Marty said, finishing up the camera setup as he talked. “We can order pizza and eat while we see what we’ve got.”

  “Will it just be the two of us?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable with the thought.

  “Unless you were planning on inviting someone?”

  “Oh, no, I wasn’t.”

  “Then just the two of us. Well, Henner and RJ might swing by later, which they usually do.” Then he cleared his throat and frowned slightly, his previous casual demeanor not quite so casual. “And there was… something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Something else?” I asked, feeling my heart increase because I had no idea what that something else could be.

  “I mean, it’s not a big deal, but I just… wanted to get your advice about something.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Like… woman advice, you know?” he asked with a chuckled. “And aside from Wanda and Bailey, you’re really my only female friend.”

  “Poppy,” I started.

  “Is my girlfriend,” he interrupted, and I quickly nodded, as if to say I should have already known that—I did already know that.

  “Right.”

  “And I doubt Wanda would want to take the time to give me any advice,” Marty continued. “Besides, she’s like Poppy’s best friend, anyway.”

  “And Bailey?”

  “Bailey is like more man than I am,” he answered with a laugh. “She’s not really into… emotional stuff, you know?”

  So, clearly, this advice had something to do with Poppy. “I’m happy to offer whatever advice or help I can,” I said on a smile and I meant it. Yes, I might have had a major crush on Marty, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t offer him whatever advice he needed, even if that advice had to do with another woman.

  “Great, thanks, Fifi,” he said and finished with setting up the equipment. Then he retrieved his pack from the floor, getting ready to head out before my employees began to arrive.

  “So… I will order pizzas,” I said.

  “Great, thanks.”

  “You said Henner and RJ might swing by later?” He nodded. “So, how many should I order?”

  “You might want to get a few. Now that I think about it, I don’t know who all is coming, but it will be at least the two of us, Henner, RJ and I’ll probably give Bailey a call.”

  “Okay, cool. I like Bailey—we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well during our Black Cat Cocktail Club meetings.”

  “Oh, right, I forgot you guys did that.”

  In fact, if we were dealing with a ghost, Bailey was pretty much the most important person to have on our team.

  “Do you or any of your crew have any preferences or allergies when it comes to pizza?” I asked.

  Marty laughed and shook his head. “Nope. My bunch will eat anything. They’re like a bunch of goats. I’ve seen them survive a weekend in the haunted tunnels beneath the old Shanksbury Mansion on nothing but canned Vienna sausages, crackers and warm, off-brand soda straight out of the plastic bottles.”

  “That’s more disturbing than anything you would have found down there,” I said, joining him as he began to laugh.

  “I’d have to agree. It was pretty gross. You’d be surprised at what’s under there, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Too long and complicated for me to try to explain before your employees arrive this morning. I’ll invite you over when we’re not in a hurry and show you some of the footage and our notes. It’s pretty interesting and based on your business, probably something you should know about. I’m surprised I haven’t thought to tell you about Shanksbury before.”

  “I’ll look forward to hearing all about it when you have time,” I answered on a smile and I really did hope he’d follow up because not only did I enjoy spending time with Marty, but the Shanksbury Mansion was one of those places that seemed as if it spawned stories merely by existing.

  “Alright, I’m all set here, so I’ll get out of your hair,” Marty said.

  “Oh. Sure. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Yep,” he replied, putting some loose cords back in his backpack and heading toward the door. He paused at the doorway and looked back.

  “Let me walk you out.”

  I expected him to say it wasn’t necessary, but he didn’t, so I walked him out to the parking lot and watched sadly as he backed out of his parking spot and drove away.

  My heart was thudding against my chest, and my stomach was making little flip flops. No matter how many times I told myself Marty was with Poppy, I just couldn’t erase this school-girl reaction going on inside me.

  Oh, well, as long as you don’t act on it and do something stupid, it should be okay, I told myself.

  Chapter Five

  With Marty gone, I was able to focus on my myriad tasks of the day.

  My first order of business was to deal with the gargoyle house hunting situation. There were rules and procedures in place before we could allow new monsters to take up residence in the Hollow. Bureaucracy even affected tiny towns like Haven Hollow.

  Ordinary realtors had the luxury of just selling a house, collecting their commission, and walking away. It didn’t matter whether your client got along with the neighbors or not. Your job was simply to show the house and make the sale. End of story.

  Not so in a Hollow.

  Here, you had to be aware of soooo much more. You had to know almost every last detail about those people moving in, as well as the neighbors surrounding them. Putting sworn enemies beside one another would spell disaster and not just disaster for those involved—disaster for my company, as well.

  Then, there were other offenses, like accidentally selling an upstairs apartment to a mundane and the downstairs apartment to a succubus like myself. Well, not like myself—more like an incubus, like Angelo, who wouldn’t hold back from taking such easy pickings as humans. It was part of the reason why Ophelia didn’t want to sell homes to humans—she didn’t want to deal with the fallout. Well, she also couldn’t stand humans.

  It was honestly exhausting and though for the most part, I loved my work, there was also a part of me that found it overwhelming sometimes. Those were the days when I thought about my parents and moving back home, the moments when I thought maybe Angelo had it right—maybe I should have just given up and gone back home to live with our parents, and enjoy the ‘high life’.

  But whenever I thought of doing just that, it only left me cold. I couldn’t run back home with my tail between my legs. I had to prove that I could make it on my own. I could carve a happy life for myself here in Haven Hollow and I didn’t have to rely on my parents. After all, I’d come to the Hollow to be my own person and running back home to mommy and daddy was no longer in my cards.

  Still, I did get homesick sometimes. I missed the seaside. I missed our estate near the cliffs that overlooked the crashing waves below. The water had always soothed me in a way I couldn’t explain. It had been an escape from Angelo back then. Yes, even as a child I’d seen him as my enemy, well into adulthood. If our relationship weren’t strained enough, it had gotten worse when my parents entrusted him to move here to ‘keep an eye’ on me. They’d insisted he bring me home if I failed in setting up a life for myself and he’d started doing everything he could to make me fail. Whereas I wanted to be my own person, Angelo was perfectly comfortable mooching off our parents.

  It had only been recently that we’d found a bit of common ground. He was becoming less selfish in some ways, though he still had a long way to go, but baby steps, right? Furthermore, he appeared to be embracing the whole idea of not having our parents lording over our every move. For as free as I was, Angelo was just as free and at first he might not have recognized that, but I had a feeling it had been sinking in over the years. Now I wondered if he would be so keen to move home. Not that I would ever ask him because, frankly, I didn’t care.

  I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes for a moment before finally opening them to look up at the ceiling. It was only then that I caught sight of the EMF reader from the corner of my eye. I leaned forward and continued inspecting the meter because all the lights on the thing had suddenly started flashing wildly.

  It was a sure sign I wasn’t alone—or, at least, that’s what I figured it was a sign of. I looked around and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary in my office. It wasn’t any colder than it had been a moment ago, and no ghostly figures had meandered in. I hadn’t even heard any strange noises that might suggest something untoward was about to happen. So, that probably had to mean the meter wasn’t working properly? Or maybe it was just very sensitive and picked up all sorts of electrical stimuli? God only knew there was lots of energy coursing through the office—between the computers, the people, the telephones, the lights, etc.

  Yet, why was the EMF suddenly reading off the charts at this very moment? Why had it suddenly switched on as if someone had walked up and, with an invisible hand, turned it on? I looked down at the camera Marty had positioned on my desk and saw nothing through the viewfinder, but there was obviously something here, right? There had to have been?

  I picked up the camera and panned around the room, thinking maybe I could see something through the viewfinder that I couldn’t see with my naked eye, but there was nothing there—at least not anything visible. I glanced back at the EMF and found it still flashing and beeping. What the heck?

  “Rhea? Are you here?” I asked the empty room, still whirling around myself, trying to catch proof of something, anything. “If you are here, can you show yourself to me, please?”

  I waited, but nothing happened. So I called out to her again.

  “I really want to help you, but you have to help me,” I continued. “I need to know who and what you are.”

  Nothing.

  I put the camera back down on the desk and picked up the EMF meter, then I began making my way around the office to see if the meter alerted elsewhere. I wasn’t sure how far of a distance the thing could pick up, but I wondered if maybe Rhea wasn’t in my office, but was in the hallway and that’s what the EMF was picking up on? I didn’t know, but it sounded good, so I went with it.

  As I walked into the hall, the EMF meter continued to silently register something, but not at full tilt—not like it had been in my office. I made my rounds, walking up and down the hallway, pausing in the break room, the conference room and then the lobby, looking for a ghost, and feeling a little bit foolish as my anxiety began to soar. As I approached Libby at the front desk, the meter spiked again and held, frustrating me even further.

  “What’ve you got there?” Libby asked.

  “An EMF meter,” I answered as the thing continued peaking, and I ran it up and around Libby. Maybe it was picking up on the fact that she was a zombie? I wasn’t sure.

  “Is that one of those Henner gizmos?” she asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “You be careful with his inventions, Fifi, I swear one of these days they’re going to grow their own brains and attack all of us.”

  Actually, I could see that happening. Regardless, I needed to get some air. I felt like I was going insane because no matter where I took the meter, it continued to make a fuss and yet, as far as I could tell, there was nothing to make a fuss about. And that was beyond frustrating. In fact, it was making my heart start to pound and a cold sweat was breaking out across my forehead. I needed to get some fresh air pronto.