Hunted & Haunted (Mrs. Pomolo Investigates) by Donna Muse

Author:Donna Muse [Muse, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tica House Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-03-29T22:00:00+00:00

Blazes Bailey arrived at the house at precisely noon on the following day, wearing a gaudy pinstriped suit and carrying an old-fashioned bulb camera and a grey rectangular metallic device with a microphone attached.

“Resonant pneumometer,” he explained when he saw how Geneva was staring at the thing. “All I have to do is flip this switch”—he motioned to one of several black switches standing in a row on one side—“and if anyone deceased in the house is attempting to speak to us, the pneumometer will capture it.”

“Where do you even get one of those?” asked Iris, eyeing the device like a fairground marvel.

“Well, you can’t buy them, generally,” said Blazes. “They’re not made for mass consumption. But the determined ghost-hunter knows how to go about getting one—young lady, might I ask why you are recording this conversation?”

This last remark was addressed to Sara Beth, who, seated at her laptop, had pulled up her recording app, so that its red recording light was showing. “Because it’s interesting,” said Sara Beth, “and because I’m doing a university project on old houses.”

“I would prefer that you not bring electronic devices into the room,” said Blazes. “In fact—I should have mentioned this earlier—I would ask that you kindly leave all cell phones in the other room. They interfere with the pneumometer’s ability to pick up signals from the beyond.”

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to interfere,” said Geneva coldly.

But the pneumometer picked up nothing apart from a steady churning that turned out to be Iris’s hungry stomach, and Blaze’s attempt to capture evidence of apparitions in the house by taking photographs with his bulky old camera proved equally unhelpful.

“You see these orbs,” he said in a triumphant tone when he returned from upstairs a few hours later. He motioned to a shower of white floating orbs that had shown up in a picture of Codger’s study. “Could be angels—we pick up those on occasion—or could be that three or four ghosts have taken up residence there, in his office.”

Geneva examined the picture with a bored expression. “It’s pollen,” she said, “or an insect or some other contaminant messing with the photograph. These bright spots are known to appear on film when some foreign substance has gotten into the mix.”

Blazes looked momentarily crestfallen and annoyed as she handed the photographs back to him. He gazed in disappointment at the topmost picture and then, in the same tone as before, said, “You are mistaken. I believe this one is either angels or fairies.”

Codger eventually dismissed Blazes when he realized he wasn’t going to offer any real assistance in catching the murderous poltergeist. Blazes left by the front door at six that evening, pneumometer in hand, shrugging in resignation at the house that had rejected his services.

“If I know ghosts—and I do,” said Blazes, “they’ll be back. Do keep my number on hand, won’t you?”

No one present seemed sorry to have seen him go. Just as he was leaving the drive, however, there came a knock at the

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