The Keeper (Ellie Jordan, Ghost Trapper Book 8)

by JL Bryan

  As we crossed bridges over salt marshes on the way back to the mainland and the city, a knot of worry swelled inside me. Worry and fear. I'd last seen Kara while threatening her in an out-of-body state, perhaps a little arrogant and aggressive thanks to my illicit source of power. Good thing I'd released that power right away and had nothing now.

  Kara could be looking for new ways to hurt me and make my life difficult. Summoning us to the office like this, insisting that we come right away, was not exactly a sign that she planned to answer my threat by making life easier and backing off. Too bad.

  We reached the office, in the old concrete building next to the wrecking yard. Stacey and I parked out front rather than around back, hoping to escape the area and head home as quickly as we could.

  The front door was locked, which seemed odd for noon on a weekday. Hayden frowned and unlocked it for us.

  The three of us walked inside and stood in the lobby for a moment, looking around.

  “What happened here?” Stacey asked.

  “Yo,” Hayden agreed.

  The cold, sharp-crystal art prints were gone from the walls, as was the more upscale seating that PSI had brought in for visitors. The receptionist's sleek new desk and workstation were missing—and notably, so was the receptionist.

  “Was there a...burglary?” Stacey asked. “Did they steal Tina?”

  “Hayden, what do you know about this?” I asked. “What's happening?”

  “I don't know, bro,” he said, his voice awed. “I swooped by here for a sec yesterday and everything looked kosher-normal.”

  We passed through the solid door and into the main workroom.

  It was empty.

  Not completely empty, of course—the long, scarred old worktable remained, jammed against the wall. The newly built walls for Kara's office remained.

  And not much else. All the new equipment was gone, including the locked cages where they were usually kept. The new desks and desktop workstations were gone, as were the PSI transition people who normally worked at them. Even the new computers that had been provided to Stacey and me were gone.

  “Where did everyone go?” I opened a storage closet, found it empty except for a couple of very old cameras and traps. Some of our original gear was missing along with all the new PSI stuff. Then I ran to Calvin's old office. There was no trace of Nicholas, his desk, or his possessions inside.

  “Hayden?” I said, turning on him. “What is this?”

  “I don't, uh...” He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

  “They've arrived.” That was spoken in an English accent. Nicholas emerged from Kara's office, touching his finger to a Bluetooth in his ear. He carried a black laptop computer with his other hand.

  Machinery rattled nearby. Calvin was descending in the elevator cage, his loyal bloodhound slouching beside him.

  “What's going on?” I asked.

  Then Kara emerged from the office, following Nicholas, and gave me such a cold look that I'm sure my heart froze for a moment. She still scared me. I reminded myself not to show it.

  “Octavia Lancashire wishes to address you from home office,” Nicholas said, his manner much cooler and more formal than it had ever been with me. Well, at least he wasn't trying to ask me out again.

  Nicholas set the laptop onto the work table and opened it up. The screen was blank. “Just a moment,” he said, holding up a finger as though we were all rushing to interrupt him.

  “Calvin, what's happening?” I asked as the elevator cage reached the bottom floor.

  “I'd like to find out myself,” Calvin said. “They've been cagey with me.”

  Kara continued staring at me, not saying a word. I didn't feel like starting up a conversation with her, either, so that was okay.

  Then a window opened on the laptop screen. I recognized Octavia from the one time I'd met her, briefly, a silver-haired aristocratic-looking woman with the husky voice that made me think of a wolf.

  “Hello,” she said. “Can we confirm that all parties are present?”

  “We have myself, Kara, the three original members of the firm, and Hayden,” Nicholas answered.

  “Who is Hayden?” Octavia asked on the screen, frowning.

  Hayden frowned right back at her.

  “He's the tech manager we brought with us,” Nicholas said.

  “Well, get him out of there. He doesn't need to hear this.”

  Hayden opened his mouth as if to protest. Then he caught a look from Nicholas, closed his mouth, and hurried out of the room.

  “I wish to begin by saying that all of this disappoints me greatly,” Octavia said. “Our organizational vision is to have a presence wherever the paranormal entities are thickest. We were pleased to extend into your region.

  “However, apparently due to personal issues, the general manager we deployed acted in a way that does not comport with our goals. We are referring to the incident between Kara and Ellie, in which Kara used her abilities inappropriately.”

  Kara did not waver from her stiff stance or her non-stop silent staring at me. She almost looked...chastened? Was that possible? Was she capable of feeling chastened?

  Nicholas seemed to be attempting an apologetic smile, directed at no one in particular.

  “This has disrupted the smooth integration we wanted,” Octavia said. “And Calvin has insisted that we sell the firm back to him in response to these issues.”

  She fell silent for a moment. I looked at Stacey, then Calvin, both of them staring at the screen, waiting to hear what she would say next.

  “This has led to a great deal of discussion on our end,” Octavia said. “First, we want to make it clear that we have no intention of selling back the firm or losing out on the investments we've already made. We will continue to retain any paranormal assets that we took for our research.

  “For the near future, however, I am withdrawing our team while we attempt to chart a new course for your firm. In the meantime, I will leave Calvin in charge of your branch. We expect you to continue operations in good faith, to submit accounting records and revenues weekly, and to provide us with any significant paranormal entities you capture, for general security as well as our research.”

  There was another long silence while this sunk in.

  “So...you're leaving?” I asked. My eyes went to Nicholas and Kara. “All of you?”

  “For now,” Octavia said. “Nicholas will be your liaison with our organization, but he is moving back to the Baltimore office. Kara will also be reassigned.”

  “And what about Hayden?” Stacey asked.

  “Who? Oh, yes, the tech person. We'll be withdrawing him as well.”

  “Then it's back to just Calvin, Stacey, and me?” I asked.

  “For the time being, yes,” Octavia said. “In exchange, we need you to continue working as you always have, and cooperate with us. Remember that you are a subsidiary now.”

  I looked at Calvin. At least he got to keep his retirement cash this way, even move away like we'd planned. Stacey and I would gain a little more freedom, at least in the short term.

  And Kara would be gone.

  She stared at me now, seething silently. I could see it all in her furious blue eyes, in the set of her jaw. She'd hated being here, but she certainly didn't like being seen as a failure within her organization. That was twice I'd made her look that way. I'd previously made her lose the spirit of Ithaca Galloway, a long-dead psychic who was supposed to be possessing Kara to help with research.

  Then there was appearing in her bedroom in nightmare form. That probably hadn't improved her opinion of me.

  “Okay, I understand,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “It would be inconvenient for us to lose your skills and local knowledge,” Octavia said. “But only inconvenient. We want you to continue to succeed and increase your skills as investigators. If you cross us, however, you can easily be replaced. There are many who would like to run the office in such a h
aunted region, capturing ghosts in Savannah and Charleston. Many who would make the most of such an opportunity, and not ruin it out of personal pettiness.” Her tone grew sharper at the end.

  Kara bared her teeth, though not where Octavia could see it, then quickly snapped her lips together again, as though some dangerous response were trying to make its way out.

  “I think we understand that, too,” I said. “Right, Stacey?”

  Stacey hesitated. She looked at me for a long moment, as though searching my face for something. I gave her a little smile, not sure what else to do. Here's hoping for the best.

  “I'm with you, Ellie.” Stacey nodded.

  “I'm glad we could reach an amicable agreement,” Octavia said, as though there had been much room for negotiation on our part. “We apologize for the upheaval so far. I am sure that if we work together, we can build a prosperous and useful relationship.”

  “Sounds nice to me!” Stacey said, going from zero to chipper in five seconds like always. “I mean, we are all on the same team, right? So, you know. Go team!”

  Kara finally stopped looking at me long enough to stare daggers at her.

  The screen went blank. Nicholas closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm.

  “So that's all settled, I suppose,” he said, maybe trying to warm the frosty atmosphere in the room.

  “Seems a little unsettled to me,” I told him, “but we'll take it.”

  Kara walked slowly passed me, like a predatory cat trying to determine whether to eat me now or wait until I grew a little fatter and meatier. Her eyes stayed on mine.

  “We will see each other again,” she said.

  Then she walked on and out the door without a backward glance. The simplicity of her words chilled me. At least a final angry tongue-lashing might have provided some closure.

  “Well, then.” Nicholas looked a bit awkwardly from me, to Stacey, to Calvin. “That's settled. A bit sad, really, things taking a turn like that. I had looked forward to my time here.”

  “Yep, a little sad,” I said, not really feeling that way. Suspicious, yes. The cautious beginnings of what could become full-blown elation—yes, that too, realizing that we'd pushed back the invaders, at least for now. “We'll be seeing you, Nicholas.”

  “You will indeed.” He kept watch on me the longest as he walked away and out the door.

  Calvin, Stacey, and I remained silent for a while, looking at the stripped-down workshop. Screws, nails, and crumpled paper were strewn all over the floor. They'd taken some of our stuff, too, our best cameras and microphones. Fortunately, we still had more in the old Corinthian theater, which we still needed to go collect, and in the boarded-up convenience store where Anton Clay's plantation house had once stood.

  “Okay,” Stacey said, sounding chipper as a schoolkid on Saturday morning. “Let's start putting things back to normal.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Later, at my apartment, I got an unexpected follow-up call from Nicholas.

  “We should meet for dinner,” was how he greeted me when I answered.

  “Aren't you out of town already?” I asked.

  “Well, there's a bit of packing. Kara left all the tidying up to me. She was eager to find the next plane heading north. I'm here for another night. I've identified the spot where we should meet—”

  “Sorry, Nicholas. I told you I'm not...romantically interested here.”

  “And I am stung to the core to hear that,” he said, sounding indifferent. “However, this is something I must communicate to you alone before I leave. You alone. Confidentially.”

  “I get it. What's this—”

  “The joint, as you would say, is called Sting Ray's. It looked quite loud and boisterous when I drove past it, which is just what we need. It may be difficult to hear each other.”

  He hung up. I knew the restaurant out on the island—crowded patio, live outdoor band, strings of lights and kitschy oversized fish décor. It did look loud, and he wasn't even all that wrong to call it a “joint.” Maybe Nicholas was worried about someone listening in on our conversation.

  I didn't feel compelled to meet him, but I was curious enough to go anyway.

  That evening, I tossed on some old jeans and a baggy, frayed t-shirt, making it clear I had no interest in impressing him with my looks. On the upside, maybe I'd get a free meal out of my drive back out to the island.

  I slowed as I passed the barely-noticeable turnoff that led to Alyssa's private estate. The trees were tall along the highway, and I couldn't see the lighthouse at all from here. That was fine with me.

  At the restaurant, crowded with mostly middle-aged snowbird tourists tonight, we sat on the patio, only a few feet from a girl in a cowboy hat strumming a guitar and belting out John Denver covers, backed up by a silent long-haired dude with a bass who lurked behind her. If Nicholas wanted to avoid anyone listening in from a distance, even with electronic ears, he'd picked the right place. All they would get was a mostly on-key rendition of “Country Roads,” not to mention the lady at the next table complaining about her motel room.

  “So, why did you need this elaborate cloak-and-totally-can't-hear-you setup?” I asked him.

  “What?” Nicholas replied, unable to hear me over the powerful amplifiers.

  “Why did you order all this food?” I gestured at the bucket of steamed clams, the pound of crab legs, the corn and potatoes. “Is the Army joining us for supper?”

  He shook his head, then stood and moved his chair around the table so we sat side-by-side, like annoying lovers who can't bear to have space between them even in public. Then we still had to lean close to speak to each other. He could have kissed me at any moment. Then I would've had to punch him.

  “I wish it hadn't gone this way,” he said.

  “Well, it did,” I said.

  “There's so much more than we've discussed.” He glanced around, then said. “I want you to imagine something. Just for fun.”

  “All right. This isn't going to lead to Dungeons and Dragons, is it? Or some kind of...cosplay?”

  “Imagine there existed, somewhere, a society of scholars, perhaps initially drawn together in the early Renaissance. Perhaps they had a shared interest in common subjects, such as ancient and rare manuscripts. Particularly those involving...well, alchemy, forbidden science, necromancy, communication with the dead, astrology, divination, and related topics.”

  “My imagination tells me that, in those days, they could be executed for witchcraft,” I said.

  “True enough. Among civilized society of the time, such activities and studies naturally occurred underground. But a number of nobles were willing to sponsor such research, seeking advantage for themselves. Even certain powerful members of the clergy may have been curious about the...well, the dark side, we might say.”

  “Star Wars?” I asked. “I knew this was leading to cosplay.”

  “It's not a question of good and evil, simply one of knowledge and research. Knowledge can be turned any which way, of course. Now imagine that this society continues, operating behind a number of fronts, many steps removed from the true sponsors.”

  “So you're telling me that your company...?”

  “A corporate front, one of many fronts in many places,” Nicholas said. “Its true purpose is advancing our knowledge and control regarding these nonphysical entities. These ghosts. Another is identifying talent. Staying involved in the world generally, you see, rather than retreating to clandestine occult labs hidden on old European estates.”

  “I see how those could get boring.” I was cracking open crab legs and eating them, trying not to act too interested in what he was saying. Enjoying my free meal.

  “You could be quite a valuable member of such a society,” he said. “With your knowledge, experience, skills...tenacity...”

  “Are you trying to recruit me for a cult here? I don't believe in little gray men.”

  “Not a cult,” he said. “A society of scholars. And you haven't qu
ite reached the level of a recruit here. Consider this a gentle probing of your interest.”

  “Well, go probe somebody else. Why do we keep coming back to aliens?”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “I actually already signed up for Elephants Without Borders pretty recently,” I said. “That's probably enough organizations to join for one year.”

  “The world is filled with mysteries and secrets, Ellie,” he said. “Entities and dark places thousands of years old. Ancient crypts in Mesopotamia. Cursed ruins in Egypt. Hidden catacombs in Rome.”

  “If that were a Jeopardy! answer, the question would be: 'Name three places I never want to visit on vacation.'”

  “I'm speaking of ghosts so old and powerful that they have categorically evolved into...other things entirely.”

  “Demons,” I said.

  “A catch-all term,” he said. “For many things.”

  “Many things I'd like to avoid. Look, I'm sure you have seen all kinds of fancy primordial horrors and ghosts who could chat with you about Julius Caesar or whatever you're into. But I'm here to protect my city. I know this town and its ghosts. This is what I do.”

  “You could be protecting the world,” he said.

  “Yeah, I'm a regular Wonder Woman. I appreciate the crabs, Nicholas, but I'm not interested in getting killed in exotic places by demonic spirits.”

  “There are libraries of lost knowledge—”

  “This is where I belong,” I said. “I'm doing what I'm meant to do. I'll talk to you some other time.” I stood and walked away from him, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

  I wanted to make my rejection very clear to him, because to me, it was weirdly tempting. It also seemed like a path fraught with danger and uncertainty, of a spiritual and moral kind that went beyond the physical dangers involved in finding and confronting powerful entities.

  I'd felt the weird, energizing thrill of feeding on the energy of others, of an easy road to power. I wasn't sure I had the strength to say no to great power and secret knowledge, not over the long term. But, for tonight, I could say no and run away. For tonight, that was all I needed to do.

  When I reached my car, I drove away with the accelerator pressed down as far as I dared, eager to put time and distance between me and Nicholas, between me and all that he represented.