“Is there anyone who would have had knowledge of Patrick’s last mission? Anyone you trust? It’s been three years, maybe the information isn’t as classified as it once was. What about the freedom of information act? Would that apply?” Harley was talking fast and Savannah was listening.
“All good ideas, thank you. I’ll get in touch with Revel tomorrow. He’ll know how to contact Jayco and Hawke. If anyone knows anything – it’s them.” Whirling around to face her friend, she confessed. “I should have talked to them long ago, but it just hurt so badly.”
Seeing that her friend needed a break, Harley rose. “Are you ready for that coffee, now?”
“I sure am.” The two women walked arm in arm to the kitchen door. Big pots of mums made bright spots of color on the patio. “Have you had any more excitement with your resident ghosts?” Sometimes it bothered Savannah to speak so lightly of the dead. She had heard other ghost hunters refer to them in such generic and impersonal terms. What she always wanted to remember was that they were all real people who had been important to someone at some time. Each of them deserved respect. Since losing Patrick, everything had changed for Savannah, even how she viewed death and dying.
“Actually, I have.”
Harley opened the screen door and allowed Savannah to enter first. The aroma of homemade banana bread and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. “Heck, it smells good in here.” She didn’t even wait to be invited. Savannah walked right up to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “I want a big slice of that yummy concoction. Beau must love your cooking. So what’s been going on?”
“It’s been fun spoiling Beau.” Harley sliced them both thick pieces and laid out some creamy butter to spread over them. “Nothing scary has happened. In fact, Beau is convinced that the spirits were trying to warn us that Fox Crocker was hanging around the house. He thinks that was the whole reason the vanity chair moved and we picked up that voice telling me that I was in danger. We believe the spirits of Willowbend are nice. After what happened yesterday, we’re convinced they are.”
Savannah’s mood brightened a bit. “Tell me. I can’t wait to hear this.”
“It was silly, really. Beau and I locked ourselves out of the house. We had gone into town for dinner and he left his set of house keys in his other pants and I had decided not to carry a purse. The security alarm was set and every window in the place was locked. Usually, I can crawl through the bathroom window; I keep it cracked for that express purpose. All my life I have been notorious for locking myself out. We literally checked every window that we could reach. Beau was about to break a window, which would have set off the alarm. It was going to be a hassle. While he was debating the best way to go about it, I stood at the front door and appealed to my spectral roommates to let us in. Now, we had checked that door at least three times – you know how it is – you just keep wishing it would open. I leaned my face against the glass and said, ‘Come on guys, let us in. I know you can do it. I’ll bake more chocolate chip cookies!’ and I swear to God, I tried the door knob one more time and – it opened.”
Savannah laughed at Harley’s incredulity. “Ask and ye shall receive. Did you pee your pants?”
“No, but I sure did look around really good when I walked in. I kept expecting one of them to tap me on the shoulder.” Harley stopped smiling and grew serious. “Savannah, I know you have been longing to receive a word from Patrick. I remember what you told me the day we met – how that his voice was the one voice you listened for – but it never came. Nowhat you may have heard from him, how do you feel about it?”
Sipping her coffee, Savannah sought how to answer. “I feel absolutely torn. If I had heard from him via EVP on my digital recorder, I would have been ecstatic. Let me explain something to you. When one begins to ghost hunt, at first the results you get will be very limited. It’s like someone who opens a store. Publicity about your business has to get around. The longer you ghost hunt, the more attention you gain from the spirit world. It’s like the word gets around beyond the pale. I went on a ghost hunting trip in Kansas. There was a cemetery there that I just had to visit. A preacher’s daughter had been killed in a car wreck and her ultra-religious father was convinced that she had missed heaven. He didn’t live long; I suppose he died of grief.” Savannah could understand how that would happen. There had been days when she had thought death would be very preferable over facing another day alone. “Several trustworthy witnesses have heard him crying, “Doreen is lost! She’s lost!” One group who reported the haunting was a surveying crew and the other was all the attendees at a funeral. So, I just had to go.”
Harley was getting into the tale. “Did you hear the voice? I have to admit, that would creep me out. At least my little spectral family seems to be happy.”
“No, I didn’t hear anything. I saw no orbs, no apparition – nothing. However, it got interesting that night.” Savannah got amused when Harley actually wiggled in her seat as if settling in for a good story. “I was staying in a
