not have been so forgiving so soon after receiving a phone call from the Newman Police Department.

The chilly air burst into the car as Jasmine opened the door with an exaggerated groan of irritation. "Glad that's over with."

"Hurry," Hailey cried. "It was already nice and toasty in here."

"Sorry." Jasmine dropped her backpack onto the floorboard and slid onto the seat. "I have detention on Monday and Tuesday too. Can you believe that?"

"Seems kinda extreme. But you did call Rachel an effing stupid, slutty b-word."

"Everybody knows that's what she is," Jasmine replied. "Not like I said something completely untrue."

"And you shoved her."

"She grabbed my arm. I was defending myself."

"Well, you completed one day of detention. Two days to go. It's a small price to pay, really. Miguel and Alex were suspended."

"Good point." Jasmine slipped her phone out of her pink backpack. "You wanna go get some coffee or hot cocoa or something?"

"Sure. I could use a caffeine boost."

"And," Jasmine sang cheerfully, "Trevor wants to hang out tonight. So, you wanna go too? Conner will be there."

Hailey tried to restrain a wide smile.

"Oh, you do. Good." Jasmine giggled. "Adam's parents are going out somewhere. So we're gonna meet at his house.

"It's not like a big party or anything, is it?"

"No. Just our usual small group. No party."

"Okay." Hailey reversed the car, revealing a large tree garnished with leaves exploding with autumn colors. The sight of the vibrant reds and yellows released the smile she'd tried to hide. And she smiled broadly as she drove toward the street outside the lot.

*   *   *

Lou and Dave arrived a good ten minutes early to Pomodoro's, one of Newman's most popular and pricey Italian restaurants. It was meant to be a calculated move so that Stella and Walter felt like they were seeking out the paranormal investigators rather than vice versa. However, Lou was irked when the hostess informed him that their party was already seated at a table.

Attractive in a form-fitting green dress, Stella rose the second she spotted Lou and Dave approaching. "Well, hello, fellas. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Lou extended his hand. "Yes, it has."

"How long has it been?" She turned to Walter. "Almost three years now, right?"

Shrugging, Walter dipped a piece of bread into seasoned olive oil.

She chuckled. "A man of few words."

"No words at all," Dave said as he sat at the table and grabbed the wine menu. "How's it hanging, Walter?"

Stella kissed Lou on the cheek. "Well, it's always the good stories that bring us together, huh?"

"You're right about that." Lou wiggled his butt on a seat and set his hands on the table. For several drawn-out moments, everyone simply eyed each other. Then Lou said, "Still with that Tiffany chick?"

She laughed. "Her name is Tara. We've been together eight years, and we have a five-year-old son. Jeez, Lou, your memory is shit."

"Eh. Sorry."

"Are we making small talk, or are we going to get to business?"

Dave signaled the waitress. "Can we order first? I'm starving."

"Oh, sure. Of course," she said. "Let's order and then get into it."

Lou settled more comfortably in his seat and selected a piece of bread from the chef's basket. "How'd you hear about this story?"

"Scouring the web," she said.

"Yeah, same here. Dave brought it to my attention."

"Were you immediately interested?"

"Not really. I had to read some of the online stuff first. One of the guys from the Paranormal Society contacted me. So I knew they'd done some research on it before writing up a post."

"Same. I know Bob Schumacher there. He talked to someone at the family's church. I guess they provided enough confirmation for him to wanna chase the story."

"Where does that leave us, then?"

"You and I know the Paranormal Society probably won't pursue this case beyond a journalistic perspective. You and I are investigators. It's up to us to prove that there's a real story behind the rumors."

Lou detected her ball-buster persona emerging.

"So, what's your angle?" she asked, leaning closer to the table. "Are you seeking the truth? Or are you just going along for the ride for your personal benefit?"

"I'm gonna take this case seriously, like all the others."

She suppressed a laugh. "Just like that haunted mansion in Rhode Island?"

"I begin every case as a skeptic willing to reveal the truth. Hoax or not, I want to investigate legitimate hauntings."

"You exaggerated that case."

"I back up all my findings with evidence."

She relaxed in her seat and crossed her arms. "What's this deal you got with the production company?"

Bitch. Obviously, she had a Hollywood connection that spilled the beans about his possible cable network series.

The waitress arrived at their table, and Lou was thankful for the interruption. The pause in conversation might allow him to redirect the discussion back in his favor.

"Let's order," he said. "Then let's talk about the details we know about the case before we discuss any deal you or I might have in the works."

NINE

Lou regarded Stella's beauty as a damn shame, especially to straight, horny single men like himself. She had flawless bronze skin that looked perfect without makeup. Her blonde hair shimmered with a natural shine that surely couldn't be duplicated in a salon. Stella exuded confidence, which only further enhanced her sexy factor. And her body—oh, how Lou had fantasized about her figure on numerous occasions.

He secretly harbored animosity toward Stella's wife, Tara—not that he'd ever met her. He had nothing against homosexuals. Live freely, he believed. But the fact that the beautiful woman across the table from him would never cast him an interested glance pushed him closer to the status of lonely, pathetic male. For two reasons. One, he wasn't attractive enough to captivate her attention. Secondly, she was a happily married lesbian with a young son and—to the best of his knowledge—not a single heterosexual experience in her past.

Now, in true Stella Wilcox fashion, she was busting his balls about the possessed–kid story and his possible cable network deal.

"So, let's compare notes," she said.

"All right, watcha got?"

She exhaled as if forced to surrender

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