Come Hell Or Clawater

"Excuse me," said the girl at the desk. "May I sign up for a library card?"
"Oh, sure," I said. "I just need to see some ID." I got out the form and handed it to her. "Nice lanyard. That's pretty cool." The lanyard around her neck had aliens on it---I couldn't help noticing. "Are you into that?"
"Oh, yeah. I like that stuff. You?"
"Yeah, me too. UFOs, Bigfoot, ghosts. I do a lot of that---I'm a writer and paranormal investigator."
Her eyes lit up. "Really? That's awesome!"
"I give tours, too. I take people all over Lock Haven and show them the haunted places. I can always be booked for private tours. Bring your friends."
"I just moved here. I don't really have any friends in Lock Haven."
"Well, I guess you do now." I held out my hand. "Lou."
She shook my hand and looked pleased. "Laura."
I gave her her library card. "Welcome to Lock Haven, Laura."

I was at the Piper Museum when President John walked in. He pointed at me. "You. I needed to talk to you. I liked that article you did on the time they used explosives to loosen the ground in Highland Cemetery."
"A Dynamite Mystery? Yeah, that was a good one. What can I do for you, John?"
In between the ghost hunts, writing about local history, and working at the library, I'm the curator at the Piper Aviation Museum. Which is also haunted. It's like I missed that day in school when they taught you how to have a normal career.
President John asked,"Are you involved in that TV show they're filming about the history of Lock Haven?"
"Yeah, I am," I said. "There's a meeting at the library tomorrow. City council recommended me."
"Great. I want you to be the guy who represents the Piper Museum. That way I don't have to do it."
I laughed. "I can handle that. I'm already representing the library, Highland Cemetery, the Paranormal Seekers....."
"Well, us too. I have the flyer in my office. You need a copy?"
"God, no. City council mailed me one, the channel sent one, and the new boss gave me one....I got like twenty of those things on my desk."

"So tomorrow is Valentine's Day," I said to Tracey. "I need a woman's opinion here. I want to wear red and be part of the theme, but I only have so many red T-shirts. Which one screams romance: The Flash, or 'I survived the zombie apocalypse'?"
Tracey laughed. "I'd have to say it's about fifty-fifty."
I went out to the front desk to prepare for the meeting---The TV people were scheduled to arrive in an hour. Most of the time, when someone mentions television, I get hives. Television is about the worst medium for history and paranormal education; they tend to boil it down and overdramatize it. People ask me if I watch the ghost-hunting TV shows, and it's all I can do not to grow quills on the spot. I'm still pissed off at America's Most Wanted and The Dead Files, and it's been years.
But twenty years ago, a state TV channel had done a show on the history of Lock Haven, and it had been a pretty good job. They were coming back for another episode, and city council had recommended that they'd have me involved. I'd been asked to do TV shows before, and my reply had usually been a flat no. But this one was worth doing. I was already wearing the shirt that said Historian: You'd Be More Interesting If You Were Dead.
My friend Joby, the LHU head librarian, arrived before the meeting started. He said,"Hi, Lou. Thought I'd get here a little early and do some digging. I'm still looking into our missing mayors."
"Oh, yes. I wrote an article about them years ago---The three mayors that don't have portraits at City Hall, so everyone forgot about them. I've found one picture, William Mayer, and you found one of John Wynn, which I can't even believe. One more, and we stand a good chance of getting them up---City council has some interest."
"I loved the sideburns on William Mayer," he said.
"I know, the way some of those guys looked....James Jefferis, he was, what, I think mayor number five...."
"Number six," said Joby. "I have them all written down."
He showed me a list, and I looked at the names. I said,"Wait a minute....What's this? Where did you find this?"
"I think I got it out of the Furey book," he said. "W.S. Clawater, mayor in 1881. He left office in April of 1882, and Seymour Durell Ball took over."
"Joby, I didn't even know about Clawater!" I said. "You've discovered a totally new mayor!"
"You want me to show you the page?"
"Nah, you're one of the people who's as good at this as I am. If you say you found it, that's good enough for me. We're going to have to look into this guy!"
"He had a daughter who died in 1881," said Joby. "That's probably why he left office."
I nodded. "It was common, back in those days. I've seen other times when a parent basically quit everything after losing a child."
"We'll have to find out more about him."
"I may get a column out of this," I said. "I'll give you credit for the find. This is amazing---You've found a mayor we had no records of! Of course, now we're going to have to find his picture for the wall."

I got into the library the next day and went straight to work. (I'd opted for I Survived The Zombie Apocalypse.) I started checking through the library's files---Joby is good; he's very good. But there's something to be said for working on your own territory. Right now, the question was how much I could get done before the staff meeting.
I checked the index file first---Get the easy stuff out of the way. There were obits for both his daughter and his wife, but not Clawater himself. He'd moved out of town, which probably accounted for the lack of records of him being the mayor. I got both obits; little Bessie had died of cholera in 1881.
"Aren't you working the desk?" Sue asked as she walked past.
"I been as far as six blocks away while people think I'm on desk."
"So what're you working on?" Fewer and fewer people want the answer to that.
"Doing a little research," I said. "Looking for a missing mayor. Later I'm gonna write an article on the 1918 flu epidemic."
"Got a title for that one?"
"I'm thinking One Flu Over The Cuckoo's Nest."
I took a quick moment to e-mail a couple of EVPs to my new friend Laura. Then I pulled the records for Highland Cemetery, and found his widow and his children buried in Section J, on top of the hill. Then I looked through the city directories---Maybe I could figure out where the mayor's mansion was during the Clawater years. It's amazing how much stuff I do that's not technically library-related.
The city directory is kind of like a reverse phone book. Just like every other type of document, the further back you go, the sketchier the information gets. We had directories for 1874 and 1895, but very little in between. The Clawater family wasn't listed in any of them, but I found them on Bald Eagle Street in the 1880 census with no house number.
Then I had a flash of a plan, and went back to the city directories.

I biked over to West Bald Eagle Street. Pulling the map out, I walked along the block, comparing buildings. The boarding house was no longer there, but I knew where it had been. 46 West Bald Eagle still stood. There was a row of three houses that appeared on the map.
At a guess, I'd put the Clawaters in one of those. I'd started with no idea, and narrowed it down to a couple of buildings. I like being the best at what I do.
I rode over to the grocery store. Ashlin was working.
"Hey, Ashlin," I said. "You up for a little adventure? I'm looking for a missing mayor of Lock Haven."
"Sure," she said. "I'm in."
"He lived right here in the neighborhood," I said. "I tracked his property down based on the census list---I looked up all his neighbors in the city directory, and used them to figure out where he lived. I figure it's a good bet that he was near his neighbors." I'd compared the city directories with the census, plotted it out on the Sanborn map, and was proud out of all proportion to anything I'd actually done.
Ashlin grinned. "Yeah, I'd say that makes sense."
"You want to go explore Highland Cemetery with me before the next meeting?"
Her eyes lit up. Immediately, she said,"Yeah!"
"Thought you might."
And this is why Ashlin is one of my best friends. I don't invite people to go do normal stuff. Fortunately, with my friends, it doesn't matter.

On Friday morning, I go on the radio to promote the library. I join in for a half-hour show where I announce upcoming library programs and talk about local history. I'm paid in coffee. It gets me out of the building for a while, so after the show, I biked from Clinton County's haunted radio station to our cursed courthouse. You get used to it.
The women in the Register And Recorder's office all greeted me as I walked in. The RAR said,"Hi, Lou! How's your son?"
"He's good. Growing. He's a little cutie. I'm just in to check out some deeds."
"Oh, sure. What're you working on this time?"
"A missing mayor in Lock Haven's history. In 1882, we managed to lose a whole mayor."
She grinned. "It's never anything boring with you," she said.
I went into the big room and dug into the deeds for a while. There's a learning curve to that. It's really intimidating at first, but you adjust---These days I can find out anything about anything.
"Thanks, guys," I said, walking back into the office room. "Gotta get back to the library."
"Find what you needed?" the RAR asked.
"More or less," I said. "Winfield Clawater owned a lot of property, but sold it all in 1882. Which tallies with what we know. We have this entire mayor that we know nothing about....I love this city."

I walked into city hall and into city council chambers. I hadn't asked anyone---It's been a while since anybody tried to throw me out of anywhere. I walked around the wall, looking at all the portraits of historic mayors.
Mackey....Smith....Bridgens....Crist....Ball. No Clawater. His picture was missing, in addition to the missing pictures we'd already known about. Of course, Clawater himself was missing, too.
I'd arranged for free blood pressure readings at the library that morning. Mine was somewhat high, I'd discovered. I was wearing my T-shirt with a vampire bat on it. It seemed appropriate.
Back at the library, I got back to the microfilm. Scrolling through 1881, I looked for something that mentioned him leaving office.
There was nothing, but I stumbled on an article about the assassination of President Garfield. I read through it, and Clawater was mentioned. I did a little mental math, and put the dates together.
"My god."

You have to wonder what's gone wrong with your life when you spend most of your time around dead people. In the fog, Kara drove her car up the path at Highland Cemetery. Ashlin hadn't been feeling well and had cancelled out on the meeting. Fortunately, Kara was giving me a ride, and was also cool with exploring the cemetery a bit. Was a time I'd ridden my bike to these things. As I got closer to my friends, I was getting to be a lightweight.
"So who are we looking for?" Kara asked.
"Turn here. I told you about that mayor we discovered, the one we had no record of. He seems to be buried in Ithaca. We're looking for his family."
"The family he abandoned."
"You know, I actually don't think he did," I said. "Not exactly. He left office and Lock Haven because of the death of his daughter, but I think he kept sending them money. I don't think he bailed on them exactly. I've been researching this guy, and I think he was a much better person than that."
"Really?"
"Well, some of what I do is intuitive sometimes. You've seen me do that before. I learn all the provable facts about something, and I get a feel for it. Clawater was a great man. Park here."
Kara parked on the path, at the top of the cemetery. We were blocking the path, but it was irrelevant at the moment---On a miserable, rainy night, there wasn't going to be anyone up here but us.
We got out of the car. Kara went around the front, and I moved around the back. Then I saw her up there, we reversed, and met on the side of the path.
I was wearing my heavy black jacket with a million pockets---My adventure jacket. I fished a flashlight out of the left sleeve.
"Winfield Clawater was the mayor when President Garfield was assassinated," I said. "Back then, they took these things a lot heavier---Everything closed, people went into mourning. Clawater called a citywide meeting at the courthouse."
"To announce the assassination?"
"No, that had already been in all the papers. To gather everyone together, to give people time to grieve. He wanted to give everyone a safe place, an outlet."
"That was good of him."
"Especially so," I said. "I found this out the other day. He did this just days after the death of his own daughter. Clawater was a great man---He gave his city support when he himself needed it most."
"Wow."
I turned on my flashlight and stepped toward the graves. "Let's find his family."
We walked among the graves. I passed the Celtic cross, looking around with the light. I knew I had the right neighborhood.
"It ever freak you out, walking around on people's graves?" Kara asked.
"Hey. They're already dead." I kept looking at the stones. "I don't think about it a whole lot; most of history involves dead people. It's just kinda what I do."
"Fair. That's why I want to be cremated."
"I'm not sure what happens to my body when I'm done with it bothers me particularly."
"You belong up here," said Kara. "You should be here, in Highland, with most of the great people of Lock Haven."
"Dammit, I think I've gone too far. I left the paperwork in the car....I've learned the hard way not to assume I can do it entirely from memory."
"Go on and get the papers," suggested Kara.
I went back to the car, dug into my pack, and pulled out all my papers. "No, that one's UFOs in New Jersey.....Here it is. The cemetery listing. We were in the right neighborhood."
I started again, walking back and checking each name against the listing, shining the light on the gravestones. "Hahne....We're getting close....Ah. Here they are. Walked right past them."
There was a large stone, with five names on it. Clawater's in-laws, the Waggoners, his wife Patti, and his children, Charles and Bessie.
"There you are, Bessie." I knelt down by the grave. "I got you, honey."
"They're all buried together here?"
"They are. This is the place." I looked at Bessie Clawater's name. "Think of how much Clawater could have gotten done if he'd been mayor longer than a year. This guy was incredible; just think of what he could have accomplished. This child's death....It changed Lock Haven's history."

"I'll be back in a bit, Joe," I said. "Going out to the TV meeting at the Arts Council."
"Have fun," said Joe. "No rush."
I walked outside the library and got my bike. I climbed on and rode southeast, getting on Church Street. I crossed Bellefonte Avenue where the old train station had been, and rode over to the Arts Council building.
I love this place. This is my city.
I parked my bike. I could see City Hall. I heard a train coming in the distance. Overhead, a Piper Comanche was flying west.
This city is full of mysteries, new discoveries to find. And even after all these years, I'm still not done with them.
The sun was going down.
I smiled and went into the building.

Gone Ghoul

"Has anyone checked the third floor?" I asked. "Made sure it's locked up?"
"Not yet," said Sue, at the desk.
"I'm on it," I said. I headed for the stairs, out the back, got my bike, and rode off down the street.
I went as far as Vesper Street, where I parked and walked up over the dike. I went down to the river. Kneeling down, I pulled a small sample jar out of my coat pocket, and tapped on the ice.
It was solid. There had been a record-setting cold period recently, and the ice had to be six inches thick. And here I needed a water sample.
I spent the next ten minutes trying everything I could to get through. Banging it with a stick. Heaving a rock at it, which immediately shattered the rock. Jumping up and down on it. Nothing worked.
Finally I stopped and thought things over. The ice should be the same chemical composition as the river water---It was just frozen river water. So I took my pocketknife and hacked at it, coming off with a few ice chips.
I shoved them into the sample jar and stuck it in my pocket, then went back for my bike. I rode back to the library. Slipping in the side door, I set the sample jar on the heating vent.
"The third floor all closed up?" Sue asked when I walked back to the main desk.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah. It's fine."

"Tonight, we're studying water monsters," I told the kids. "And we'll be doing a litmus test on some genuine Susquehanna River water. You wouldn't believe what I went through to get it." I looked around at Teen Paranormal, gathered in the Sloan Room. Kara sat next to me. "The Susquehanna Seal was a river monster spotted near here in the 1890s. Tonight, you're going to help me investigate it. Any of you guys ever learn about litmus paper in school?"
Some blank looks. "Okay. Cool. I'm glad to be the first guy to teach you this. Litmus paper tests liquid for acids and bases---It changes color to tell you which they are. The perfect level for supporting life is neutral, about a seven." I had two small containers of liquid on the table in front of me. "Here's two liquids, vinegar and window cleaner. All you have to do is dip the paper in and see what color it turns. Who wants to try it?"
Alex and Aubrey jumped up immediately, Skylar and Olivia a moment later. About what I expected---But they were all interested. I handed out litmus paper---I'd ordered the 200-pack for about $3.50, so we had plenty for multiple tests.
"This one is acid," said Alex. "It's like a one."
"Yep, that's the vinegar," I said. "It's very acidic. How about the other?"
Olivia looked at her litmus paper. "About an eight. A base."
"That's right. Now, let's try the river water. And I haven't tested this---I genuinely don't know if a monster like the Susquehanna Seal could live in it. I wanted to try this first with you guys."
They all dipped their litmus paper, and studied it.
"Neutral," said Aubrey. "It's about a seven."
I nodded. "Which is perfect for supporting life. So....A monster in the river? It's possible."

"That was a neat idea," Kara said downstairs, in my office. "Having them test river water was a nice touch."
"I ordered the litmus paper just the other day," I said. "Paid extra to make sure it got here on time."
I started putting stuff away at my desk. I was wearing my Loch Ness Monster T-shirt. I asked,"Did you get hold of the client on Church Street yet?"
"Yes," said Kara. "If anyone from the team is available, we can do the intake interview Wednesday morning. They recently bought a Bed and Breakfast on Church Street...."
"The Wilson Kistler House," I said. "Place has been known to be haunted for years."
"They've been experiencing noises, cold temperatures, the usual," said Kara. "So we can go and do the interview before we decide on an investigation."
"I'm available," I said. "The place is right across the street; I can see it from our back windows. I'll be here anyway. I'm in."

I was drinking coffee out of my Bigfoot mug when Kara and Millie arrived. I'd been sitting at my desk in webinar for a while, and I finished off the coffee and walked from the haunted library to a haunted house. As one does.
The house was huge and elaborate, and the owner was busy installing a security system when we arrived. She greeted us at the door and let us in, and I looked around. "Been a while since I've been in this place."
"It's huge," said Kara. "We may need a little extra time on this one."
"Look at this couch," said Millie. "Isn't that beautiful?"
I knelt down by the couch. "It's got a code. The Victorian Flower Language."
"The what?" asked Kara.
"You haven't been on one of my tours when I talk about that? The Victorians had meanings for everything---Fruits, trees, leaves, flowers. It was in their furniture, their architecture. There's a secret code from this carved above the door to the post office. This couch is an example....It has roses, and, what's that....?"
"Dogwoods," suggested Millie.
"And I don't have the whole thing memorized, so I'm gonna have to go and look it up. But this means something; this couch is identifiably the right age. There's a meaning in here."
"So you think Gertrude Kistler might be here?" the new owner asked me.
"It's possible. She drowned on a family vacation in 1920, and she's thought to be haunting several places in the community. Her grandfather built this place, so she'd have had fond memories of it. I can't prove it, but I wouldn't rule it out."
We walked through the house. Kara murmured,"This place is huge. It might take more than one time through to investigate. We might also have to bring in more people."
"I have some thoughts on that," I said.
I walked through the upstairs hallway, looking around. This huge old mansion built in 1887. And we got to solve its mysteries.
This is what makes it worth it. Not the solutions, but the mysteries. I love figuring these things our....But whether I solve it or not, I love the attempt. It doesn't matter if I solve a mystery....As long as I get a chance to try.
We sat down in one of the back rooms. I said,"What we're going to do is come in and try to find provable, measurable evidence. We'll use thermometers, cameras, digital recorders. We're trying to find something like....Here, I usually have one on me." I got out my recorder. "This one....No, wait, that's the Loch Ness Monster. Here." I played one of our old EVPs, where we could hear a whispery voice say "Play....with....me."
"Oh, wow," she said. "That's amazing."
"Now, remember, that's the best of the best. Most of them aren't that good. But we'll come in, set up the cameras....This place will look like the Death Star. We'll need several hours to cover the whole place."
"We have a meeting Saturday night," said Kara. "We'll find a good time, and contact you."

We all bring our own skills and contributions to the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers. Theresa knows the electronics, Millie has an in with the local theater, and I'm the reason we get to meet in a haunted airplane museum.
I was in my office with Kara. Ashlin, and Millie when my cell phone rang. I picked it up. "Hello."
"Lou? It's Kris. I found the museum, but I can't find your magic door on the front of the building. In fact, I can't find the front of the building."
I walked across the museum floor and down the stairs. "Where are you? What do you see?"
"The two buildings, and a sort of path between the trees."
"Okay, you're looking at the Blue Building next door. The parking lot is out front." I exited the museum, walked across the lot, and turned between the two buildings.
"I'm not seeing the door....Wait....I see you."
I closed the phone and met my friend Kris between the two buildings, under the street lights.
"Hello, Lou," she said.
I smiled. "How you been, Kris?"

"We formed ten years ago," I said. "What the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers try to do is find provable, measurable evidence of the paranormal. We also try to explain events in a logical way---If we can't rule it out any other way, then maybe we have something paranormal."
Kris nodded. We were sitting in my office at the monthly meeting. She asked,"So, each of you. What got you into paranormal investigation?"
"I've always been interested," said Millie. "Ten years ago I went on a tour of the museum where Lou used to work, and he mentioned that he had joined a ghost-hunting team. We met that night for a walk-through in Highland Cemetery."
"First night I met you, I took you to a haunted cemetery," I said. "Do I know how to show a girl a good time, or what?"
Millie laughed. Kara said,"I experienced some things in the attic of my father's house when I was a kid. When I joined the team, we went to investigate it on one of our first times out."
"That was what really brought us together," I said. "That was the first time we really became a team."
"I was working at the grocery store and I heard Lou talking about a new teen team," said Ashlin. "I joined, and when I turned eighteen, they promoted me into this group."
Kris looked at me. "And you?"
"I like adventure," I said. "Ever since I was a kid, I went looking for stuff like this. When I was sixteen, I tried to investigate a house that was thought to be haunted. When the team formed, I agreed to advise on local history. Ten years later.....Here I am."
"We'd like to do an EVP session, just to start your training," said Millie.
Kris smiled at me. "I liked the piece you did on Marilyn Monroe being invited to judge a canoe race in Renovo," she said.
"Canoe In The Wind? Yeah, that was a good one."
I stood up and pulled on my tactical vest. Kris looked it over. "Wow. Where did that come from?"
"I order them," I said. "I tried everything to carry my equipment. Pockets, tool belts....Nothing really worked. This seems to work the best."
Millie eyed it. "I oughta get one of those. It'd be better than that bag I have to carry."
I zipped it up. "Let's do this."

Two days after the meeting, I got up and dropped my son off at Tif's house for babysitting. I had to do the title search on the Kistler House. I'd also gotten an e-mail from the local newspaper, asking for information about the 1918 Ice Flood. So I'd have to make a couple of round trips involving the newspaper, the courthouse, and the library to deal with all the haunted houses and historic floods.
Mondays. Am I right?
I started at the library, digging out photos of the 1918 Ice Flood. Then I ran them down to the Express, dropped them off with the editor, and biked over to the courthouse.
I spent half an hour pulling the deeds, and it was one of the easier ones I've ever done. No straw deeds, no cow deeds, no sheriff's sales. Just a nice straight line back to 1889, when the place was built.
Back to the library. I pulled the obits, and discovered some more new things. A lot of what we thought we'd known about the Wilson Kistler House was wrong. And at the end of it all, there had been no tragic deaths related to the house, no suicides, murders, accidents....Except for one.
Hello again, Gertrude.

We gathered in the parking lot of the library. It was the best place, right across from the haunted house. Snow was coming down, beginning to cover the sidewalks."
"Kris had a death in the family," I told the others. "She said she wanted to make it---She really doesn't want to let us down---But she wasn't sure she could get here from the funeral. I got her a card." We passed it around and signed it. "I told her we understand."
"Of course we do," said Theresa. "Give us the history, Lou."

"Okay, guys, historian coming in hot," I said. "I've done the research, and local history-wise, it's earth-shattering. The house was built in 1889, an addition to a much smaller structure that already stood on that property. The Wilson Kistler House was not built by Wilson Kistler, but by Patrick King, who may have been a relative to Kistler. This alone contradicts much of what we thought we knew about that house, and on a historic level, is fairly groundbreaking. King died in 1923, for the record, and is buried in Saint Mary's Cemetery with no marker. Incidentally, it's the same cemetery where the Witch of Sugar Run is buried; when we had that escapade in October, we probably weren't too far from his grave. "

They were gathered, watching me. Theresa, Millie, Kara, Ashlin.

"Wilson Kistler died in 1914, leaving his house to his son, Sedgewick, Gertrude's dad. Gertrude Kistler died in July 1920 on a vacation to Yosemite State Park. Most of the people involved died at a ripe old age after a full life. I have not found a record of a young or violent death on that property, which suggests that the prime candidate to be haunting the place is Gertrude, after all."

The place was big. There was no getting around it. we were never going to cover the whole thing on one investigation, so we chose the best spots and got set up. I walked around and took photos, and gave the client her historic report. When I found Ashlin, she was on the first floor, awaiting a cable that Kara was lowering down from the third through the banisters.
"You connecting that to anything?" I asked.
"No idea," she said. "Kara's on the other end."
I walked up to the third floor, where Kara was struggling with the coil. I helped her untangle it, and we dropped the rest down to Ashlin.
"Go ask Theresa if she's getting a picture down there yet," said Kara.
I went back down to Theresa, on the first floor. "Kara wants to know if we have visual."
"Yes," she said. "We're using the new camera up there. Do we want one on second?"
"Probably; let's run it up that servant's staircase to the hallway."
I strapped on my tac vest. There was a big mirror ahead of me; I looked myself over. "I love this vest. I look like an action figure."
"I'll take the first shift on monitor duty," said Theresa. "The rest of you can start an EVP session. Where do you want to begin?"
"First floor," suggested Millie.
"How about the sitting room?" I asked.
In a few minutes, we were all gathered in the front east room, a pretty sitting room. We activated our digital recorders, setting them on the coffee table.
"EVP Session," I said. "Wilson Kistler House, first floor. It's 8:02 PM. Lou."
"Millie."
"Kara."
"Ashlin."
An EVP session is when you ask random questions, and wait to see if you catch anything on sound recordings. So, quietly, in the dark, we spoke.
I opened with the usual. "Is there anyone here?"
"Can you tell us your name?"
"What did you do for a living?"
"Could you come near my device?" Millie asked. "Can you make the green light come on?"
"Or, you know, you could possess Ashlin," I said. "She's about your age."
"That's a no," said Ashlin. "I don't want to be possessed."
"What, I crawl into holes and attics all the time, but you won't let a ghost possess you for five minutes? Take one for the team."
"So I get possessed while the rest of you watch? What kind of half-assed team is this?"
"Snow plow outside," Kara said, tagging the sound.
"I'm feeling cold," said Ashlin. "All up and down my arm. It feels freezing."
"I'm getting it, too," said Kara. "Right arm. Does anyone else feel cold?"
"I don't," I said,"But that may be because I been drinking coffee and wearing a ten-pound vest. Let's do a reading." I got out my laser thermometer, and played the laser over the two of them. "Guys, I'm getting nothing. Temperature is steady around a baseline of sixty-seven. Whatever you're feeling, it's not showing up on the equipment."
"I can feel it," insisted Kara. "It's like half of me is in cold water."
"Water?" I said.
She looked up at me. "What?"
I said,"Gertrude drowned."

"Let's do one more," Theresa suggested around eleven-thirty. "We'll split up. I'll get back on the monitor."
"I still think possession of Ashlin is not off the table," I suggested.
"No way," said Ashlin. "How come my head has to spin around in circles? Why not Theresa?"
"Theresa already does that."
"Lou and I can take the second floor," said Kara. "Where do you want to be?"
"Let's do your favorite," I said. "The Pemberley Room."
She smiled. "Well, okay."
We went up, and did the usual. For us, anyway. Took photos, turned out the lights, started the recorders, and waited in the dark for dead people to arrive. Maybe usual isn't really the word.
"I seem to remember ten years ago, up in Cameron County," I said. "First time you and I ever worked together was at the top of a big building like this."
Kara laughed. "I remember. Up in that attic."
"Ten years. Has it really been that long?"
"This coming summer," said Kara. "We've had some good times."
"Yeah," I said. "Good times."