They all nodded.
“Well, most psychics, including me, can feel that in the material world,” Sapph said. “Malcolm theorized that it might be caused by the movement of emotion or energy within the site.” She pointed at Bear, who was sleeping in her lap, his belly stuffed with bits of stew. “He’s my best thermometer for that kind of activity. He’s trained to let me know when there are spirits around. See how calm he is? If this place is as haunted as they say, I’d expect to see him sounding off. But he’s not.”
“Is he that reliable?” Pat sounded a bit skeptical.
“One hundred percent,” Lance told him. “Trust me, I was even more skeptical than you when I first met her. Hell, you should have seen the face of the cops!”
“The cops?” Gwen looked at him. “Was that why your team walked on you?”
He scowled. “Sort of. The cops weren’t the big problem.”
“I was,” Sapph said, cutting him off again. “I didn’t want any publicity, so he couldn’t tell them what was going on, or why they couldn’t join the investigation.”
“To be fair, that house was tiny,” Amari said. “If he’d left it at that, they probably wouldn’t have walked. He had to tell them that he had gotten evidence but couldn’t use it due to a non-disclosure clause, and so they couldn’t see it either.”
“I never meant you couldn’t show it to your team!” Sapph said. “Just not sell it! Or put it on your website!”
Lance scowled at Amari. “I knew that if Jenn had gotten her hands on that evidence, there was no way on God’s green earth that she wouldn’t have wanted to publish it everywhere. And you know it. That’s the real reason they left - because to be perfectly honest, she wanted a successful team to sell a new ghost show to, and they liked that. And you know it.”
“Okay, fair,” Amari said. “But you could have shared some of it. The EVPs, for example. Those were pretty innocuous.”
“But where did the cops come in?” Pat interrupted.
“The ghost turned out to be a girl who’d disappeared three years ago,” Scottie said quietly. “It turned out that she’d been held captive for most of that time, and when she died accidentally, she returned to her home, trying to figure out what went on.”
“One of the things she did was start calling people,” Sapph added. “Her friends. From the cell phone number that was still attached to the uncharged cell phone in police custody.”
They gaped at her.
“I know, sounds like a movie. I agree. But the cops agreed to look into it again.” Lance took up the story. “Her mother, meanwhile, reached out to us. And then I reached out to my uncle for a psychic. He sent me Sapph.”
“Did they arrest the sons of bitches who kidnapped her?” Gwen asked.
“Oh yes.” Sapph’s smile lengthened, a Cheshire cat grin of evil pleasure. “Both men were arrested and charged with murder, kidnapping, sexual assault, and physical assault. They’re going away for a very, very long time.”
“Good.” Gwen pushed away her bowl.
They were all quiet for a moment, and Sapph knew what Lance and Amari were remembering: the little blond boy of two that the detectives had removed from the house as well, and returned to Terry Reynolds’ mother. They hadn’t been able to bring her daughter back, but at least she’d gained her grandson.
“Enough history.” Lance’s voice broke the silence. “You were talking about not feeling the Ghostwind, Sapph. What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be that the site isn’t active. It could be that it fluctuates. Or…”
“Or?” he prompted her.
“Or it could be hiding,” she said reluctantly. “The way the ghost in the other case did.”
Once again, she felt the icy chill of the dead man’s hands as he held her down in the wreckage of a table, leaching her warmth as she tried to send him on to whatever hell he was supposed to be in. The ghost she hadn’t known was there until he’d locked the house down, trapping her there. But I know more now, she told herself. Words have power. I can protect myself.
“How will you know?” Pat asked.
Sapph shrugged again. “I’ll have to switch. That will give me the information I need to dig further.”
“How do you communicate with the team while you’re in the Ghostlands?” Knox said. “Can you bring a microphone?”
“No, the only things I can bring with me are my clothes, as long as they’re all natural fibers,” Sapph said. “Scottie and I have a telepathic link, so we communicate that way. It’s not really evidence that you can bring into court, but I can pass along what I find and who I talk to on to him, and at least the last time, Lance and Amari were able to help confirm where I was and what needed to be done.”
“This is going to be fascinating to watch,” Gwen said. “We’ll still be able to film, right?”
“Yes, as long as it’s just for evidence review and won’t go out to the general public,” Sapph said. “I’d rather keep a low profile. I think I can do more good that way.”
“No problems there,” Knox assured her. “We don’t have a website - just a private server. Your secret will be safe with us. After all, I’m right there with you.”
“How do you get clients, then?” Lance asked.
It was Pat who answered. “It’s funneled through Paranormal Possibilities. There’s a link on the show’s website to contact us if you have a haunting that you want to discuss. It keeps us from getting too much publicity. We work with a select group of teams all over the West Coast and the Southwest, and our mission is to actually help people. There’s no show or anything like that. It’s just helping people who have a ghost problem.”
“Interesting,” Sapph said. “That’s what we’re looking to do here on the East Coast with Pendragon Associates.” She looked over at Knox. “Maybe you and I can talk over this week about how you operate.”
“Happy to,” he said. “Helping people is the important thing.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
The conversation continued on around her, but Sapph let it go from her attention. Instead, she concentrated on eating - the warm stew was delicious, and she knew she’d need the calories later, when she first stepped into the Ghostlands.
After she finished, she excused herself and went upstairs to change. The late fall air cooled quickly once the sun went down, but that wasn’t the cold she was dressing against. Sapph pulled on a set of silk leggings and then pulled her jeans back on over them. A linen shirt, flannel shirt, and silk wool socks completed her outfit, and then she sat on the bed to pull on her fur-lined leather boots. A set of specially made kidskin gloves and a knit wool cap, and she was ready to go.
“You look like you’re heading out on a cross-country ski trip,” Knox said, as she came down the stairs. Everyone except Vincent was gathered in the hall, ready to go. Scottie had his bag at his feet.
“The Ghostlands are cold,” Sapph said, pulling her gloves on. “I need all the protection I can get.” She looked at them. “So what’s the plan?”
Pat and Lance exchanged looks. “A tour, first,” Pat said. “Let me show you around while we have a little bit of light left. Then we can divide up into smaller groups for our first night. I was planning on starting soft: just IR cameras, digital recorders, and Mel meters. That work for you?”
Lance nodded. “We’ve got all those, and I agree. Let’s baseline first, and then after tonight, we can see what tech to break out where. Also, keep the meters away from Sapph. She sets them off.” Then he flushed and looked slightly embarrassed. “Just so you know, my uncle asked if we could do some experiments too, if we have time.” The words came out in a rush. “They’re actually pretty fascinating and I couldn’t really say no, since he’s loaning us some other material…”
“You’ve mentioned your uncle a few times,” Knox said. “Should I know of him?”
“His uncle is Malcolm Robinette,” Sapph said. She grinned at his wide eyes. “Yeah, we find it convenient sometimes.”
Knox looked at Lance with increased respect. “If Doctor Malcolm Robinette, the premier scientist in the paranormal field, has asked you to do some research, we can DEFINITELY take the time to help him out. That man has done more for this field than anyone else.”
“Don’t say that too loud,” Lance said. “I swear, he can hear everything, even if he’s ten states away.”
Gwen clapped her hands together. “Okay, folks, we can debate this later. Let’s stop burning what is left of the day.”
They followed her out of the house and for the first time since they’d come onto the property, Sapph felt the faintest touch of icy air go past her cheek. She paused and looked over at Scottie and Bear. The Chihuahua was alert, and Scottie nodded at her. So there was something there after all.
The main entrance to the Broadwell Asylum had six broad granite steps, mounting up to an impressive wooden door that was bound by iron bands. On the door was a copper plaque, green and black with age, that echoed the Latin inscription from the sign on the road. Underneath the motto, in smaller letters, was the words “Opened on November 5, 1879, by Dr. Robert Broadwell, Esq.”
“Remember, remember, the fifth of November,” Sapph murmured to herself. “Wonder if we’ll get a visit from Guy Fawkes.”
“I doubt it,” Scottie said, as Pat turned the key in the lock and hauled the door open. The hinges protested vigorously, the rust of nearly forty years falling in large crimson flakes to the floor.
“I thought you said they were renovating this,” Amari said, as they stepped into the remains of what had once been a large, airy entrance hall. Now, the windows were covered in dust and wooden shutters, massive cobwebs drooping in lacy curtains from the tops of the sashes. Dust danced in the air through the beams of their flashlights.
“They finished the caretaker’s house first,” Gwen told her. “They’ve started to clean some of this building, but then Rachel was attacked in the solarium, and they haven’t come back in since.”
“Attacked?” Scottie said sharply. “By what?”
“She says by the ghost, although we don’t know what ghost,” Gwen said. “She said she was sweeping up some of the debris in the first floor solarium when the broom was yanked out of her hands and her hair was pulled. Matthew heard her scream and found her on the floor with a bright red handprint on the back of her neck. She said she was choked and then thrown down.”
“Wow. These ghosts don’t play well with others, do they?” Lance said, shining his light around the large space.
“Most don’t,” Sapph said, pulling her cap onto her head. The cold was increasing, slowly, but she could definitely feel it.
“Do you want to finish the tour before you…switch?” Knox had noticed the movement.
“Yes,” she said. “But I can tell you that it’s haunted. I don’t know how much, but I can definitely feel the Ghostlands here.” A small cloud of condensation formed in front of her face. “And it’s getting closer.”
“Then let’s go.” Knox took the lead.
It took about 30 minutes to do the walk through of all the buildings. Besides the main building, which had 4 floors and a basement, there was a smaller building that housed the staff who lived on site, and this included the kitchens and the laundry. The other remaining building was a small barn that had once held not only farm animals but the machinery to keep up the lawns and the gardens.
“We’ve found a small cluster of foundations on the other side of the staff dormitory,” Knox said. “Matthew said they think those were the cottages for the doctors. There’s a mention in one of the newspapers from 1960 that there had been a fire, and the doctors’ cottages had been destroyed. By that point, they had transitioned to a nursing home, and most of the doctors lived in the nearby towns, so they weren’t rebuilt.”
They were standing by the barn, watching the waxing moon rise over one of the nearby mountains. It was quiet enough that the wind murmuring through the pine trees sounded like boots striding through last year’s leaves. Bear, nestled in Sapph’s arms, whined quietly.
“I know,” she said, stroking his head. “I feel it too.” She turned to Knox. “Where’s the graveyard?”
He indicated a small path that snaked around the back of the barn. “This way.”
The graveyard was smaller than she’d been expecting: barely a hundred stones, poking granite fingers through the long scraggly grass, enclosed in a fieldstone wall. There was a rusted gate that squealed when Knox pushed it open and they all filed in. In the center of the area was a larger monument that read simply “To the memories of those who have left us.” The words were sharply incised; this stone had been erected later than all the others.
“Rachel said that when the hospital was turned into a nursing home, one of the residents wanted to be buried with that stone,” Knox said, gesturing to the stone. “But they couldn’t find out who the resident was. There’s no name on the stone at all.”
Sapph reached out and touched the granite, feeling the cold stone through her gloves. It hummed briefly as she touched it, a barely felt vibration, and she snatched her hand back.
“What?” Lance and Knox said at the same time.
“I don’t know,” she said, inspecting her hand. There was nothing there. “Someone else please touch it?”
Gwen laid her hand where Sapph had, and then looked at her. “It’s cold, but that’s it.”
Sapph looked at Scottie. “Can you?”
He too touched the stone, and his reaction was much the same - he jerked backwards, eyes wide. “What is that?”
Gwen shook her head. “I don’t feel anything! What did you feel?”
“It thrummed,” Sapph said. “Like it was starting to power up or something.”
“And only the two of you felt it,” Knox said, looking at them. “So it’s something psychic.”
Scottie nodded, and looked at Bear, who was looking at the stone. His eyes were bright, and his ears were lifted. “This might not be a bad place to do your first walk,” Scottie said. “Nothing that can lock you in here.”
Sapph took a deep breath, then handed her dog to him. “Okay.” Then she looked over at the others. “I’m not going to be too long, don’t worry.” And then, before anyone else could say anything, she closed her eyes, and flipped her internal switch.
The passage through the Veil was smooth, as if she were stepping through an icy waterfall, the mortal world falling away from her in shards of warmth and feeling. She opened her eyes to see the graveyard, just as it was on the other side, except here, in the Ghostlands, there was no moon. The world existed in an endless twilight, pale and grey, lit by random bits of glowing moss that crept along the stone walls. The large monument was here as well, but the words had changed. Now, it said, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
Well, that’s intriguing, she thought, sending the image to Scottie, who agreed. I wonder which is the real message.
Possibly both, Scottie said. Anything else?
Sapph turned slowly, looking around her. Not really, she said. Then she completed her turn and nearly jumped out of her own skin. She wasn’t alone anymore.
“Welcome to Broadwell Asylum.”
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