A few minutes after I sent the text to Cornelius, he burst in through the back door. Judging by his robe, striped pajama bottoms, and half-flattened hair, he’d finally crashed after his post-Prudence high and landed in his bed. Thankfully he’d abided by my rule about wearing pajama pants and his robe in my company this time. The sight of his bare knees would have been almost as disturbing as the fact that the Hellhole was accessible again.
He carried a protein shake in his hand, his equivalent to morning coffee.
“Did I wake you?” I asked from where I sat on the corner of Jerry’s desk.
“Almost.” Cornelius set the shake down on the bookcase near the door and rushed to the closet, leaning over the chair to peek down into the trapdoor opening. “How did this come to be?”
“You need to ask Jane that,” Cooper said. He stood by the wall opposite the closet, leaning against the filing cabinet. He was still wearing his unzipped police coat and gear even though I’d tried to convince him to remove his firearm in case someone was shot by accident—namely me.
“Nice pajama pants, Curion,” Cooper added with a rare grin. “Are those silk?”
“Of course, Detective.” Cornelius stepped back from the closet and pulled one of his hand-held ghost-detecting meters from his robe pocket. At least I figured that was what the rectangular gadget was. This one looked new to me with its bright orange case. “I’m sure you know that silk is regarded as one of the highest-quality fabrics.”
I scoffed. “The only fabric quality that the detective looks for is how well it can stop bullets.”
“You’re wrong, Parker.” Cooper crossed his arms. “I also find a fabric’s muzzling abilities important.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Besides resisting wrinkles and repelling odors,” Cornelius continued as several lights flashed on his ghost doohickey followed by a beep, “it adapts to the temperature of your current environment.”
“Are you a silk salesman on the side?” Cooper asked.
“No, but you should try a pair of silk boxers sometime.” Cornelius aimed a crooked smile at Cooper. “It might smooth your somewhat bristly disposition.”
“Lord knows his prickles could use some softening,” I said without thinking, and then laughed at my play on words in spite of Cooper’s glare. “As a bonus, silk is always soft to the touch. I know a certain wildcat who might enjoy that added benefit, too.”
“Keep running your mouth, Parker, and I’m going to cram you down that hole in the floor and sit on the trapdoor so you can’t get out.”
“If the wildcat you’re referring to is Nat,” Cornelius joined in my fun, “then I know for certain that not only does she enjoy the feel of silk, but she also finds prickly detectives quite pleasant to touch, as well.”
The sight of Cooper’s hard glare made me snort and giggle. “How do you know that, Curion?” he grated.
Cornelius shrugged and tapped a button on his gadget. “Nat called after she returned from Arizona and informed me of your recent experiment with copulation. According to her, the results were successful. Congratulations.”
Cooper cursed.
Still chuckling, I focused back on Cornelius, who was holding the orange gadget in the air toward the closet. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to detect if there is anyone else in here with us right now.”
“Wouldn’t Cooper be able to see Jane if she were here?” I looked to Cooper for an answer. He shrugged back.
“That depends,” Cornelius said.
“On what?”
“Some people believe a ghost can choose whether to manifest in front of the living.” He held up his ghost meter with one hand, pushing different buttons with the other.
“You disagree?” I asked.
“Not at all.”
“So, if that theory is correct, ghosts can play games with the living.” Prudence certainly reveled in messing with me whenever she got the chance.
“I have another theory.” Cornelius was usually big on theories, especially when it came to the non-living. “After years of paranormal investigations in some of the best-known haunted venues, I believe the amount of energy within the entity can determine its visibility level.”
“In other words,” Cooper said, “the stronger the ghost, the more visible they are?”
“Something like that.” Cornelius pushed another button on the gadget and walked toward the doorway. The light from the LED screen lit up his face as digital numbers went up and down.
I thought about Jane’s ability to keep the closet door sealed shut in spite of our attempts over the last few weeks to pry it open. “Would you say that Jane is a strong ghost?”
“Based on the fact that she can manipulate objects through telekinesis in order to communicate with the living, yes.”
“What about Prudence?”
“Your choleric dead friend up in Lead?”
She wasn’t my friend, more of an eternally pissed-off coworker in need of a caffeine hit but the coffee maker was broken. “Yeah, the haughty ghost we all know and don’t love who uses people like they’re puppets.”
“Her ability to take full possession of a human suggests she’s capable of producing a large amount of energy.”
So, good ol’ Prudence was a regular ectoplasmic power station. “Yet, nobody can see her except Zelda, who is supposedly a superb channeler.” According to Cornelius, I was also a good channeler, but apparently Prudence didn’t like to surf on my wavelengths. “Does that mean Prudence is choosing not to show herself in spite of her massive amounts of spiritual energy?”
“Perhaps.” He moved away from the doorway leading to the hall and walked my way. When he stopped in front of me, he held up his ghost meter. His gaze lifted to mine, the LED screen reflecting in his eyes. “Or perhaps you are choosing not to see her. Did you not tell me after we left her residence yesterday that at one time in the past she was visible next to you in your vehicle?”
“Yes.” I sat up straight, stretching my stiff muscles. After all of the shit piled on my shoulders today, they could use Doc’s strong hands to loosen them up again. “But that would
