She thought back to the night before, the cat perched on the toddler bed, hissing. The dark, unknown entity pulling away from her. The footage supported her perception—the hazy figure drifting near to the bed, then pulling away.
“It wouldn’t connect with me. I had the feeling it doesn’t want me here.”
“Did you get anything from it?” Michael asked.
“I reached out to it. And all I felt was cold and empty. Then it retracted. It doesn’t dissipate though, until Sterling interrupts.”
“Are these two manifestations related to each other?” Michael asked. “And why does Danielle see only the cat? She didn’t say anything about this other entity.”
“Because there’s nothing there,” Sterling said. “I have to hand it to you guys. You have the most incredible imaginations I’ve ever seen. You take blobs and shadows that could’ve come straight from a Rorschach test and make up some fantastic stories.”
“As I’ve said before—”
“Kimmy, let’s just focus on the footage. Sterling, save it for your Confidential Corners. The quicker we complete this review, the sooner we get to break. Break early enough, maybe we can all grab a quick nap before tonight.”
She bit her tongue and shot Sterling a look, hoping her irritation was conveyed. He smirked and shrugged.
Michael put his headphones on, joining TJ and Stan in their search for evidence of supernatural activity.
She periodically circled the table and watched over shoulders but mostly remained in her seat. Her function was to encourage the entities to manifest, to engage and connect. Whatever evidence the footage provided would guide her tonight.
Elise made a few phone calls and hunched over her laptop, looking at property records and searching for news articles about the house or its previous owners.
The minutes ticked by. She yawned. She felt rather useless.
Footsteps shuffling through the kitchen caught her attention. The little toddler walked over to the table and peered at the computers, two fingers in his mouth. He leaned against Kimberly.
“Hi there, little guy. Maybe we should find your mommy.” She looked at Michael, but before he moved to help, the boy pulled his fingers from his mouth and clambered into her lap. “Oh. Oh, okay. We’re doing this now?”
He situated himself, leaned back against her, and lifted a piece of paper clutched in his fist. He stared at her. “Tat.”
“Michael, what do I do?”
“Elise, why don’t you see if Danielle is awake?”
Her research assistant nodded and hurried from the room.
Michael reached for the paper. “Whatcha got there, buddy? Did you draw another picture? You’re a great little artist.”
“Yes,” Kimberly agreed, because it seemed like the right thing to do.
Elise returned from the bedroom. “She is out like a light. Snoring. And the baby is curled up next to her sound asleep, too.”
Michael handed the drawing back to Drew. “We’ll just hang on to him out here then. I think six adults can handle one toddler.” He tousled the boy’s hair.
Drew pushed himself backward, pressing closer against Kimberly. He held his drawing up to her face, slurping his fingers.
“That’s . . . so nice. What a great picture.”
The boy smiled and pushed the paper into her hands.
“This must be . . .” She turned the paper upside down and then flipped it again. Neither angle helped. “Umm, is this an elephant?”
Drew laughed a deep belly-giggle around his fingers. “No! Tat!”
“Hey.” Stan took the paper. “This looks like . . .” He looked back and forth between the computer and the paper. “Did you draw your room, Drew?”
“Wait, what?” She leaned over for another look. Seriously? Stan saw something in the mess of scribbles?
“Look.” Stan pointed. “That’s his toys there. This is his closet. There’s his bed. Right, little man?”
Drew poked the paper with a soggy finger. “Tat.”
“That’s the cat?” Stan asked. “There on the bed? Sitting next to you?”
Drew shoved two fingers back into his mouth, smiled around them, and nodded.
She stared at the picture and with great effort saw what Stan suggested. The rudimentary crayon lines shifted into a closet door, a jumble of toys, a bed with a stick figure child and a cat. And something else.
“What’s this, Drew?” she asked, pointing at black scribbles beside the bed.
Drew whimpered and turned his head, pressing it into her chest, muffling his response. She wasn’t fluent in toddler to begin with and couldn’t catch anything he said.
“What is it?”
He raised his head and repeated himself. “The dark.” He pressed his head back into her chest.
Even she understood that. “Is this a picture of you at night? Does the cat come see you at night?”
The boy wiggled closer and shook his head.
She felt fear as the little boy shook. Danielle believed he was afraid of the dark, but perhaps that wasn’t exactly right. Perhaps there was more to his nighttime fears than they realized.
“Are you afraid of the nighttime, Drew?” She reached out to read his emotional reaction.
He shook his head, still buried in her chest.
“Can you tell me about the dark?”
He lifted his head and spun around. “Tat. Dark.” He jabbed a finger at the two figures.
“And you don’t like the dark?” She felt his red chakra flair.
The boy whimpered again.
Michael held his hands out to Drew. “That’s enough about the dark. Come here, little guy. Let’s go play until Mommy wakes up.” He took the toddler to the train track in the living room.
She held the drawing beside the still frame of Drew’s bedroom. “Okay, so it’s just a bunch of scribbles, but does anyone else think this looks a lot like what we saw last night? I don’t think he’s saying the room is dark. I think he’s calling this other entity ‘The Dark.’ And he’s scared of it. I could feel his fear when he talked about it.”
Stan took the drawing from her. “Oh, my God. I think you’re right. Look, it has the same shape, minus a few stray lines.”
“Danielle said he’s had nightmares and cried about the dark since they moved into the house. What if he’s not crying about darkness but about this entity he’s calling The Dark?”
Michael returned to the table. “Okay, let’s see how long he can keep himself busy.” He stopped short. “What? You all look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” He laughed at his own joke, but no one else did.
“There’s definitely another entity in the house. We need to figure out what it is. Tonight. Because I’m worried the kids might be the target.”
16
Kimberly yawned so widely she thought her jaw might dislocate. She glanced at her watch. Already nearly four. She rubbed her weary eyes for the umpteenth time. They continued watering.
She pushed away from the table. “I’m done.”
Michael removed his headphones. “What did you say?”
“I’m done. I can’t do anymore right now.”
“I think we’ve found everything we’re going to find.” He leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. “Everyone take a break. In fact, crew go ahead and break for dinner.”
Everyone at the table glanced at watches and stood, stretching and yawning before shuffling out the door like zombies.
Sterling’s head snapped up so quickly she wondered if he hadn’t dozed off. “Wondered when we’d get some food again. Worked right through lunch.”
She shot him a look. “You’re fine. I saw the enormous breakfast you ate. And we ate quite late.”
Danielle emerged from the back of the house, Josh propped on her shoulder. “Did I hear you guys are leaving?”
“Yes,” Michael said. “We’ll take a dinner break and come back for the night.”
“I’ll pick up Stephen from work soon. And then I
guess we have to go back to the hotel tonight?”
“I know you don’t like being away from home, but I don’t think you’d get much sleep here with us shooting.”
“I can’t believe I slept all afternoon. And that Josh slept that long, too. And Drew didn’t disturb you.”
You and me both, she thought, but also noted the woman’s eyes were far less red and puffy. Poor thing. She needed rest.
Michael brushed aside her concerns. “He did fine. Played. Watched us. Took quite a liking to Kimmy.”
Danielle beamed. “Really?”
“Kept climbing in her lap.”
“Thank you so much. On top of everything else, you babysat so I could sleep.” The woman’s voice rose in pitch, her eyes tearing again.
“It was nothing. We’re glad to help any way we can. And I want to talk to you about Drew.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. He may have helped with the investigation.”
“Seriously?”
“He drew another picture. Let me show you.”
Michael signaled Stan, who picked up his camera and moved closer.
“He pointed to this and said, ‘Cat.’” She watched the woman carefully for her reaction.
Danielle shifted Josh and took the paper. “It’s another picture of Felix. Sitting beside him on the bed?”
“That’s how we interpreted it. He also pointed at this and said, ‘Dark.’”
“He’s been scared of the dark ever since we moved here. He slept with Stephen and me before. Our apartment had only one bedroom.”
“So his fear of the dark definitely coincided with moving into the house?”
“That’s right. Why?”
“I discovered something in his room last night. We captured it on the recording. It manifests as a dark patch on camera. No strong form, simply a dark patch.”
Danielle looked as if she might cry again. “Are you saying he isn’t scared of the dark, but that he’s been trying to tell me there’s a ghost in his room?”
Sterling interrupted. “That’s a huge leap. It’s more likely your son is adjusting to sleeping on his own, and he’s afraid of the dark. Which isn’t at all unusual for a child his age. He did not say ghost. He said dark. I say he simply drew a picture of himself in bed at night.”
“Does Drew have any knowledge of ghosts?” Kimberly asked Danielle, though her gaze remained fixed on Sterling. “Why would he use the word ghost? He’s saying he sees a dark figure in his room. Otherwise, why didn’t he color the entire room black? Why does his drawing resemble our footage?”
“He’s three! You’re looking at this from an adult perspective.”
“And what about the cat? He keeps drawing Felix.”
“I’ve already addressed this. He’s a three-year-old boy. He drew a cat. Maybe he wishes he had a pet cat. Maybe he overheard you guys talking about a cat. There are so many rational explanations—I don’t know why you keep going to ghosts. You’re skewing the observations to make them support your desired outcome. You want to see ghosts, so you do.”
“Except you leave out the part where I saw the dark figure myself. And I’ve seen the cat. And so has Danielle, for that matter.”
“That poor boy.” Danielle sniffed, her voice thick with choked-back tears. “He’s been trying to tell me all this time. He kept saying, ‘The Dark.’ And I didn’t understand. I told him to be brave, that he’s a big boy now. Like Sterling, I didn’t want to be bothered, so I didn’t listen.”
“What? I always listen to what people say.” Sterling sounded offended. “I may not agree with the conclusions they draw, but I listen.”
“No, you dismiss people as soon as their ideas don’t align with yours.” Danielle wiped her nose on her sleeve.
Sterling rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath.
Kimberly cut him off before he could speak. “You’re doing the best anyone could—”
“I didn’t listen to Drew. I assumed it was nothing. I’ve been so busy with the baby, and sleep deprived, and worried about the cat. All this time I’ve been sending him back to his bed, where something terrifies him.”
Kimberly rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “You knew you needed help and you called us. Even drove to our office to insist we help. It’s our job to fix it. So don’t worry. You did great.”
“I feel like I’m failing the entire family. And everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
“I don’t. I know we’re dealing with something here. I’m glad you invited me to come help you.”
“Really?”
Kimberly patted Danielle’s arm. “You’re doing great.”
Josh leaned forward, eyes huge, drool trailing from his open mouth to his bib. “Gah!” The infant’s entire body jerked as he expelled the sound.
Danielle sniffed and smiled through her remaining tears. “Kids just seem to be drawn to you. Want to hold him?”
“Oh. I don’t know if that’s a good idea—”
The baby dived forward, and before she knew what was happening, he was in her arms. She adjusted the wobbly thing until he sat on her hip, peering up at her. “Hi there.” She giggled at the baby’s unstable head, huge blue eyes, and O-shaped mouth.
He was so unsteady, so innocent. And so trusting, the way he leaned right into her arms knowing she wouldn’t let him fall. The image of the cat standing over this little guy’s lifeless body flashed through her mind. She instinctively clutched him to her, holding his bobblehead to her chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she murmured before passing him back to Danielle.
“We’ll figure this out,” she promised the young mother.
Danielle nodded, took a deep breath, and gathered up Drew. “Nearly time to go get Daddy, Drew. Let’s pack up a few things for tonight.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t play for the camera,” Sterling said after Danielle retreated to the bedroom.
She saw Stan’s camera focused on her. “Actually, I forgot Stan was recording. And none of that is likely to make it into the episode. That was all genuine.”
“Sure.”
“Please don’t antagonize the family anymore. She needs hope and reassurance. Whatever is happening here—or whatever you believe is happening—it isn’t her fault. Stop trying to snatch her hope away. Say whatever you want about me, but leave her alone.”
“Hey, I’m not heartless. Tell her whatever you want. But the way I see it, you’re offering false hope, which is worse than no hope at all. She needs real help, not fantasies.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, then reached for his ringing phone.
As much as she wanted to be annoyed with him, that cocked eyebrow set her pulse racing. He really is too cute for his own good.
“Oh no! It’s Amber again.” He looked to her as though expecting directions.
“What do you want me to do? You have to talk to her.”
“I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Come on, Mr. Black and White—do the right thing.”
“Not right now. Later. I need to talk to Michael before he leaves for dinner.”
“You could have dinner with him and talk to him then. He’d love the invite.”
“Nah. I need to grab something quick and take a nap. I’ll never make it tonight otherwise.”
“Wow. One night and you’re done. I knew you couldn’t handle it.”
“I’ve pulled plenty of all-nighters on my show. But someone needs to be well rested around here. I’m starting to wonder if all of you simply experience sleep-deprivation-induced hallucinations.”
“You’re consistent if nothing else. Every time I start thinking you’re okay and maybe we can get along after all, you remind me I don’t like you one bit.”
Rather than the ruffled feathers she expected, he lit up. “You’re starting to like me? Hey, Mikey, she likes me!”
She clenched her jaw. “Case in point.”
Michael joined them. “Glad to hear it, Sterling, but could you sti
ck to Michael, please? I don’t care for Mikey.”
Sterling stared at her and spoke deliberately, as though reading from a script. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never call you Mikey again. I didn’t realize. I’m glad you told me.”
She closed her eyes and clutched her hematite stone. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just a few more days. Fewer if she unraveled the source of the haunting and cleared the house.
“Sterling, didn’t you want to talk to Michael about something?”
“I have another video. Call Mr. Hoffmeier back and tell him it’s for publicity. And tell him we have”—he glanced at his phone—“over two hundred fifty thousand views! This is fantastic! We’re trending. And we have another video to leak.”
Michael nodded. “I like that approach. I’ll talk to him over break. Kimmy, get some rest. You look terrible.”
“Thanks. I so appreciate the brutal honesty.”
“Honey, if I don’t tell you, no one will.”
Sterling raised a hand. “I will. You look awful.”
The twinkle in his teasing eyes didn’t keep her from smoothing her hair. Somehow it sounded worse coming from Sterling. “One wise guy is more than enough. Rosie! Let’s get some food. Girls only.”
17
Kimberly squeezed her eyes shut while Rosie brushed finishing powder over her face.
“There. Gorgeous!”
She checked her reflection. An hour of sleep had done wonders, and Rosie had covered up the last of her dark circles and managed to brighten her eyes. “You’re a miracle worker. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Rosie glowed. “Makeup can’t make an ugly person pretty. It just highlights the pretty that’s already there.”
“We both know I’d be a mess if you weren’t here.”
“So.” Rosie’s tone told her she wouldn’t like what her makeup artist was about to say. “Sterling is back on the market again. And you somehow convinced him to get rid of his drop-dead gorgeous supermodel girlfriend?”
She blushed. “You mean his succubus. It’s not like that. He already had some serious doubts. He talked to me about it over breakfast. Against my better judgment I let him know she’s a succubus, and, as expected, he said that was ludicrous and didn’t believe me.” She left out the part about teaching him where his chakras live in his body and the smoldering look in his gaze when he’d taken her hand. “She keeps asking him for expensive gifts. He called her a gold digger. He didn’t take much convincing.”
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