“She’s—” Shawn blanched.
“No, she’s not on the other side,” Sue quickly reassured her. “Faith is fine. She’ll be back a little shell-shocked, but in one piece, I swear. What I need to tell you is, she didn’t know it was wrong.”
“What was wrong?” Shawn sighed and waved her glass for another drink. Normally, she didn’t drink that much. But tonight she was desperate to self-medicate.
“The way she handled things,” Sue said. “She didn’t know it was wrong. I know, little comfort and doesn’t make sense. That’s the message.”
“From whom?” Shawn tried to get a bead on things. A slightly difficult task, since she was already loaded.
“Your mother,” Sue said, after apparently giving it some thought.
“My mother is alive,” Shawn groaned while the three skeptics snickered. “Sorry, Sue, but she is.”
“Not this mother,” Sue tried to clarify. “Why do you have two mothers?”
“Are your parents gay as well?” York asked.
“No.” Shawn rolled her eyes. “Does no one read my books?”
“Wait, I’ve read your books,” Larry Briscoe chimed in. “You briefly mentioned in your first book that you’re adopted. So, in a way, you do have two mothers.”
“Brilliant.” York beamed. “Do me next.”
“I love you skeptics,” Shawn groused. “You deny and deny that what we do is possible until you want to know something. I’m doing Sue first.”
“Even better.” Rossi grinned.
“Pig.” Shawn reached out for Sue. “Okay, SueBee, you know the drill. Give me your hand.” She took a calming breath once she clasped Sue’s hand and then closed her eyes. “Geez, you’re so boring,” she said after receiving only quick flashes. A soft heartbeat was echoing in her mind. The only image she could see clearly was Sue playing with her drink.
“Hate to disappoint.” Sue laughed.
“Hold it.” Shawn shivered slightly. Flashes whizzed through her mind along with the faint sounds of mingled voices. The image of the drink worried Shawn as the sound of the tiny heartbeat suddenly became louder. “Stop drinking.” She snapped her eyes open.
“Okay.” Sue put down her glass. “I’ve been sticking to ginger ale, if that’s important.”
“It is.” Shawn’s face lit up. “Congratulations. You were right, that test you took was defective. I suggest you pay a visit to your doctor, because you, my dear, are pregnant.”
“Are you sure?” Sue asked eagerly.
“Yes. Do you want to know the sex?”
“Yes. No! I have to call Ted.” She ducked out of the tavern.
“Happy news indeed.” York offered his hand to Shawn.
“I think you just want to hold my hand,” Shawn teased him. Her smile quickly vanished. “Oh.” She frowned and released his hand. The image she had received hit her like a tidal wave. There was no mixing or scattered imagery. The vision was crystal clear, and it spelled bad news for York. “Your wife knows, and she’s going to rake you over the coals in court.”
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked in a squeaky voice.
“Vanessa,” she spelled out for him, watching his face turn ashen. “She knows about Vanessa, your assistant. And you’ll be lucky to walk away from the divorce with your jockey shorts.”
“Good Lord, I hope you’re yanking my chain.”
“Sorry, but it’s your own fault.” She wagged her finger at him. “Well, after that happy little tidbit, does anyone else want a reading?”
“I do.” Rossi offered his hand.
“No need, I can read you from here.” Shawn smiled. “Call your parents.”
“Why?”
“Just call them. It’s important.”
The rest of the group were all clamoring for some insight. Shawn was happy to oblige. Dealing with other people’s lives was a lot easier than dealing with her own. Doing so many readings at once, plus her intoxicated condition, left Shawn completely spent.
Chapter 8
Evansville, Indiana
November 2004
“Welcome to the Midwest, Williams,” the droll voice greeted Shawn when she entered the cozy, albeit small, hotel room that had been assigned to her.
“You’re way too chipper, Wu.” Shawn returned the greeting with a slight scowl. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. She just found it increasingly harder to smile. For some reason, performing her job for the past year seemed far more arduous than it had ever been.
“Shawn?” Farrah Wu gaped at her. Shawn always found the tiny Asian woman’s first name amusing. Apparently, Farrah’s father had been a huge Charlie’s Angels fan. Farrah was still looking at her with concern as she stepped over and helped Shawn with her luggage. “You’ve got some heavy vibes coming off you,” Farrah said with concern.
“Sorry,” Shawn quickly apologized. “I don’t know what’s with me lately. Except some personal stuff.”
“Ah, woman trouble. Affairs of the heart can suck the life out of you. I always thought you gals would have an easier time of it.”
“Trust me,” Shawn said. “Women are just as difficult to understand as men. In case you were thinking of hopping the fence.”
“Me?” Farrah giggled. “Sorry, I have a thing for hairy chests.”
“Thanks for the image.”
“My pleasure,” Farrah said with a grin. “No, that’s not it. Not all of it.”
Shawn didn’t need to ask. She understood that Farrah had picked up on something other than Shawn’s troubled love life. “I hate bunking with my own kind.”
“I know. Two sensitives in the same room.” Farrah sighed in agreement. “I don’t think Jerry’s got a roomie.”
“Steiner’s back on board?” Shawn was pleased. Jerry was one of the few skeptics she really enjoyed working with.
“I love working with him, too,” Farrah responded to Shawn’s unspoken thoughts. “Jerry and I started out together. Problem is, over the years, he’s not as skeptical as he used to be. The suits don’t like that.”
“I’ve noticed,” Shawn grunted while she unpacked.
“Right. The brass gave your favorite naysayer the boot a few months back, didn’t they? Charles could always be a bit brisk, but off camera, she was a whole lot of fun.” Instead of answering, Shawn blushed. “So, the rumors are true.” Farrah squealed like a schoolgirl. “My, my, my, you are a naughty girl.”
“Not anymore,” Shawn said. “She’s overseas. New subject, please.”
“Spoilsport.” Farrah pouted. “Fine, we can talk about those dark circles under your eyes, which aren’t only from Faith’s impromptu departure. You’re feeling more. Aren’t you?”
“For just over a year now.” Shawn turned to her. “My gift was always strong. Lately, it’s been overpowering. Physically, it’s become unbearable.”
“Happened to me a few years ago,” Farrah said. “Back-to-back gigs in very hyperactive places. You’ve opened another door. Makes your gift stronger. It will take time before your body catches up.”
“But it does catch up?” Shawn asked hopefully.
“Mine did.”
“Good to know.” Shawn felt a mild sense of relief. “Ever since that shoot on Halloween last year, I’ve been a mess. Talk about overactive spots.”
“And since then, you’ve bounced from one hot spot to the next,” Farrah said. “The dead just won’t shut up will they?”
“Not just the dead. The living are coming in loud and clear. Used to be, I’d get a blurb here or there. Now, almost everyone is readable to me. Is that what happened to you?”
“Pretty much,” Farrah said. “The good news is, this shoot should be a cakewalk. The library is supposed to be active but not malevolent.”
“Good. I’ve about had my fill of bitter spirits. Living or dead. A nice, mildly haunted library is just what I need right now.”
* * *
The talent and crew gathered at the Willard Library. Shawn felt at ease while the crew w
ent about laying cables and setting up the required lighting. “What a beautiful building,” she said.
“It is,” Jerry agreed. “Have you met Claire yet?”
“Your partner in crime?” Shawn glanced over at the demure woman lingering in the background. “Althea told me she’s the next Faith Charles.”
“Bet you had an interesting comment about that,” Farrah said with a light laugh.
“I just told her there was nothing wrong with the old Faith Charles,” Shawn said wryly. “Have either of you worked with her before?”
“No,” Jerry replied. “She’s new to the dog and pony show.”
“I’ve read her books,” Farrah said with a slight grimace. “She’s one of those who think that all sensitives are a bunch of greedy fakers.”
Shawn cringed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
“If I could have the talent over here,” Althea commanded. “Dr. Williams, Dr. Steiner, Dr. Wu, and Dr. Marin, this is Randy Hiller. He’ll be your tour guide.”
“Welcome, ladies and Dr. Steiner,” Randy greeted the ensemble once the cameras began rolling. The group responded in kind. “The Willard Library was built in 1885 from a grant by the eccentric philanthropist Willard Carpenter. It’s the oldest public library in the state. Mr. Carpenter insisted that, and I quote, ‘the library was to be a public library for the use of the people of all classes, races, and sexes free of charge forever.’”
“Why his first name?” Shawn asked softly.
“I’m getting that, too,” Farrah said. “I think ‘eccentric’ was putting it lightly.”
Claire grunted loudly, and the other two women grimaced.
“The building is Victorian Gothic, designed by James and Merritt Reid,” Randy continued, appearing unflustered by the obvious tension growing between the women.
“Impressive,” Jerry said. “I understand that beyond the large collections of books and architecture, there’s another.” Shawn watched carefully as Jerry prompted the tour guide. Suddenly she understood the need for a second skeptic. This time around, Jerry’s role was to be more of a host rather than to be the resident naysayer.
“Over the years, there have been many reports from the staff and visitors of strange happenings,” Randy said. “Most of the sightings have centered around the Lady in Grey.”
“When did they start?” Shawn asked, her curiosity piqued. Like most shoots, neither she nor Farrah had researched the location.
“The first sighting was in 1937,” Randy said, while guiding the group farther into the library. “On a cold, snowy night, at about three in the morning, the janitor came to shovel coal into the furnace, which is located in the basement. Wary of uninvited visitors, he was armed with a gun and a flashlight. He made his way down to the unlit basement.
“When he neared the furnace, he dropped the flashlight, frozen with fear. Standing before him was a veiled lady dressed in a glowing grey dress. When he could finally move, he bent down to pick up the flashlight. That’s when he noticed that even her shoes were gray. Then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished. Since that night, the Lady in Grey has been seen numerous times. Each time, she appears suddenly before vanishing into thin air.
“Also, here on the second floor in this washroom, the water faucet mysteriously turned on once while an employee was in the room. Others have reported a strong scent of perfume. In the children’s room there have been reports of books flying off the shelves.”
“She’s angry,” Shawn said, shaking off an uneasy feeling. “She’s convinced that she was denied what was hers.”
“Who?” Jerry asked while Claire released an audible tsk.
“Lori, Lois.” Shawn fumbled for the name of the presence she felt looming around her. “Louise,” she said.
“Her father was unbalanced,” Farrah added.
“Oh, yeah,” Shawn agreed. “She’s got issues with Daddy, all right. Mostly financial issues.”
“That’s correct,” Randy confirmed, earning more grunts from Claire. “Louise Carpenter, the daughter of Willard Carpenter, the library’s founder, went so far as to sue the Board of Trustees. She claimed that her father wasn’t in his right mind and was unduly influenced into funding the library. She lost her lawsuit. It was after her death that the sightings of the Lady in Grey began.”
“And these appearances haven’t hurt business,” Claire interjected snidely.
“It’s a public library,” Shawn said. “That wouldn’t be Louise, would it?” She pointed to a black-and-white photo of a portly older woman that was hanging on the wall.
“She looks like the life of the party,” Jerry said.
“Cut,” Althea called out.
“Sorry,” Jerry said.
“Don’t worry,” Althea said. “We’ll fix it in editing. We have a lot of territory to cover. We need to split you guys up. Dr. Wu and Dr. Steiner will be one team. Dr. Williams and Dr. Marin will be the other. Farrah, upstairs or down?”
“I want to start in the basement,” Farrah answered. “That’s where the first sighting was.”
“That means you can start at the top,” Althea told Shawn.
“My favorite position,” Shawn quipped, surprised when Claire actually cracked a smile.
Shawn gathered up her equipment and followed the crew. “I love this staircase,” Shawn noted with appreciation. “So, Claire, are you enjoying working for the camera?”
“Definitely different. Normally, it’s just me and my computer. I do go on location, but again, it’s usually just me.”
“I get it,” Shawn said. “You travel to haunted places and use scientific means to explain what’s happening. I can respect that. Out of curiosity, haven’t you ever come across anything you couldn’t explain?”
“Never.”
“Never?”
“No, never.” Claire’s voice was dry and unwavering. “Take this Lady in Grey. Honestly, it’s so simple. People see the picture after hearing the stories. Then they see her.”
“Really?” The hair on the back of Shawn’s neck prickled, and she smirked. “This should be interesting. Carl, can we set up in this room?”
The room was small, elegant, and filled with books. The smell of vintage books greeted Shawn as she entered after Carl and the crew had set up. “Very warm.” Shawn noticed a shadow passing by the rows of books.
“What was that?” Jasper asked from behind his camera. “Shawn, was that a—”
“Lights from passing cars,” Claire quickly said, waving towards the window.
“Shawn?” Jasper seemed to be pouting. The poor boy had been extremely eager to find specters after his experience at Whispering Pines.
“Claire’s right,” Shawn said. “Nothing but traffic. Of course, you might want to turn the camera over there. Just left of the window.” She couldn’t help gloating as the crew gasped at the mist swirling away from the outside lights. “Claire, if I’m not mistaken, the mist seems to be taking the shape of a person.”
“Nonsense,” Claire said. “It’s just dust or steam from the heating system.”
“Then why is it so cold in here?” Shawn said.
All eyes turned to Claire, who suddenly appeared to be very uncomfortable. “I’ll get back to you on that,” she finally said. Shawn just smiled while taking pictures with her digital camera.
The following night, Farrah and Shawn were splitting a bottle of Bailey’s while reviewing their separate experiences. “You were right. This is a nice, relaxing gig,” Shawn said. “Claire’s okay. Won’t budge an inch, but okay just the same.”
“What about when that book flew off the shelf in the children’s room?” Farrah asked.
“According to the eminent Dr. Marin, it fell.” Shawn chuckled while reaching for the ice bucket. “Damn, we need more ice.”
“I’ll go.”
“No, you went last time. My turn.” Shawn snatched up the ice bucket. She hummed as she made her way to the ice machine. She was still humming when she scooped out the ice
. Suddenly, a searing pain blinded her. The bucket crashed to the floor, and its contents spilled noisily. Shawn reached out in an effort to steady herself. When her knees slammed against the floor, she knew she had failed.
Horrific images kept bombarding her until she realized that she was back in her room. “Shawn?” She heard Farrah’s voice.
“Did you see it?” Shawn cleared her throat and rubbed her throbbing temple. She groaned when she spied Claire and Jerry looming over her.
“Yes,” Farrah said. “When I found you. The desk clerk said it happened about five years ago. They caught the guy.”
“I know,” Shawn whimpered, the pain still pulsating. “It was her husband. She came here after running away. He found her. This gets better, right?” she asked Farrah in a pleading tone.
“It does.” Farrah patted her gently on her shoulder.
Chapter 9
Outside of Baghdad
March 17, 2004
Faith stormed into the tent, almost ripping the flap off, and stomped past her cameraman. Her temper was worsening, along with the desert heat. “I’m telling you, Todd, if that knucklehead walks in here and asks me if it’s hot enough,” she barked, “I’m gonna bitch-slap that little wiener. We’re in the middle of a freaking desert. What’s he expecting, a sudden snow squall?”
“Always the charmer, Charlie,” Todd said. “Maybe if you’d calm down and get out of that crappy mood, you wouldn’t feel so overheated.”
“Am I wrong?” Faith snapped. “Why, for fuck’s sake, did they stick all of us together?”
“Can’t argue with that,” Todd said. “Corralling the press in a bunch of tents and not letting them wander around had disaster written all over it.”
“I blame Geraldo,” Faith said, flopping down on her cot. “What was he thinking? Now the military won’t let us out of their sight.”
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