This was his chance to put his mind to rest, to get proof that there was life after death, and to get some answers. Like why was he attacked in his sleep by some unseen force at his friend’s house when he was twelve? Could spirits even gather enough energy to knock a kid out of bed, or had it been his buddies playing a trick on him?
He stood stock-still for what felt like hours in the hall, but had probably been only a half hour or so, never opening his eyes. Downstairs he could hear Dave and Don moving around while they conducted another EVP session. He’d place money on them being in the master bedroom. A faint scent of flowers hung in the air, which made sense as Mrs. O’Malley had several vases throughout the house. They had turned off the air conditioner, so there were no cool breezes and the temp remained steady.
“Colin, the guys and I are going to step outside and take a break. So far, we’ve got nothing. Maybe if we let things settle our friend will recharge and come visit.” Dave’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs. “Want to join us?”
He walked to the top of the landing. “Think I’ll chill out up here for a while.”
“Okay, Mrs. O’Malley is in the living room.”
Instead of returning to his spot in the hall, he went into the bedroom, and swept the beam of the flashlight around. No changes. Except the scent.
The room smelled of Shay’s perfume. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, instantly transporting his mind back to the cottage and their last night together. They had laughed and talked about their day along with Shay’s plans for how to expand the kids’ camp. He’d tried to bring up house hunting, but she’d shut down on him. He dropped it and changed the subject to crazy things he’d seen at work. After, they’d made love until she fell asleep in his arms.
It might be time to admit that this thing between them was no more than a passing fling and move on. Maybe actively look into the Santa Barbara job, because he didn’t think he could stand living so close to Shay and not have her in his life. The past few years had been bad enough without her, but at least they’d been more than a thousand miles apart.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket, which was weird as he was sure he’d powered it down. Sitting up, he retrieved the device and hit the button to see he had a text, probably from the guys.
Two words stopped his heart and made him smile.
Miss you.
He hit reply. Thought you’d enjoy the break.
Nah, I like seeing your face before I close my eyes at night.
Careful, that almost sounds like you want me around more.
I think I might… Colin, I—
You what?
The screen went black before she could reply. He pressed the power button and nothing happened. Strange. It had a full charge. Great, perfect time for a power drain. Colin turned on the flashlight, which flickered and went out, pitching the room into total darkness.
A small thunk followed by a louder one had him jumping up off the bed. He hit the flashlight against the palm of his hand and it flickered back to life. Instantly his gaze shot to the dresser.
The wooden block had been moved over one inch and the camera sat lens down.
Again.
Holy crap.
He got out his infrared thermometer and quickly checked the readings in the room. Seventy-two degrees, just like before. Colin walked over to the dresser and his whole body shuddered from the cold. He pointed the thermometer toward his chest and smiled. Sixty-four degrees.
“Finn, is that you, buddy?”
Colin waited the standard ten seconds. “If you’re here, give me a sign. Tap on my shoulder. Knock on the wall or dresser. Just give me a sign.”
Nothing. If there wasn’t a spirit in the room with him, then there had to be another explanation: a lopsided leg, a wobbly floorboard, a draft. Unless he found a reasonable explanation, there was no point sharing what he’d experienced. Colin flashed the beam of light to the dresser legs. The thing sat flat and even. He jumped up and down on the floor. Not a single squeak. He pushed the dresser with his shoulder and the thing didn’t budge.
He aimed the light at the top of the dresser. What was he missing?
His jaw dropped.
The block slowly rolled over to the other side as if it were being pushed.
Every muscle in Colin’s body froze. There was no logical explanation. A wooden, square block would not roll over on its own.
“Shit. Why am I not filming this?”
He grabbed the video camera and aimed it at the block.
“Okay, Finn. I know I’m asking for a lot, but could you do that again? I want to be able to show the team and Mrs. O’Malley.” He waited. It took a lot of energy for a spirit to move items, or so the theory went, so Colin gave him time to recharge.
“Come on, Finn. Do it for Shay.”
He sat there for another five minutes or more, hoping. He didn’t doubt for a minute that he had company—of the Casper variety, but he wanted proof. Indisputable evidence.
Just when he was going to give up, the block moved a fraction of an inch. Finn didn’t turn it over, but he moved it. Colin was as sure of that fact as he was that the sun rose in the east and set in the west.
He gave a little “woohoo” to celebrate, while keeping his camera steady. “Mrs. O’Malley—Siobhan—told us your story, but if there’s anything else you want us to know, I’ve got my recorder on and I’m listening.”
Cold air wrapped around Colin, working its way past the thin T-shirt and jeans he wore and seeping into his pores. Every instinct in his body wanted him to flee or at least grab the blanket off the bed and pull it around him. He held tight, afraid that with one wrong move he’d disturb the precarious balance and send Finn’s spirit bolting.
Questions whirled around in his brain.
“Did you know you were going to be a father before you died?”
“Were you mad about your cousin marrying Siobhan? Is that why you stayed?”
“Was it your choice to stay?”
“What’s on the other side for us? Is there really a heaven and hell?”
Colin waited between each question to give Finn time to answer, not that he could hear the responses with his naked ear. Hopefully the digital recorder would pick up Finn’s voice and he’d be able to hear them on his computer. Colin wanted answers.
Finn had them. God willing, the spirit would share and then Colin could let his own mind rest and maybe help others too.
“Is there anything you’re worried about? Something keeping you here?”
Shayyyy.
Colin whipped around, expecting to see one of the guys, but he was still alone. Sort of alone. Had he really heard Finn? If so, that would make twice and both times seemed to center on his granddaughter. Was the ghost worried about her? Or about her relationship with Colin?
“What about Shay?”
As quickly as the cold had arrived it dissipated, leaving him drained and excited over the whole incident. He’d talked with the spirit of a man who had died nearly sixty years ago. He’d seen an object move on its own and he had the documented proof.
There was no way he could keep this from the team. He put the camera back in its place on the dresser—just in case—but this time aimed so that the wooden block sat in front where they could capture any movement on the monitor. Colin took three quick photos of the room—something he should have done earlier—and then headed downstairs. The guys would forgive him for breaking protocol when he shared his news.