Murder Psyched: A Witching Hour Ghost Hunters Mystery by Kat McGee

Author:Kat McGee [McGee, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Towering Pines Publishing
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Through eyelids barely slitted open, I studied the crystal ball. A white image formed among the glow to reveal an entity with its mouth agape as if stuck in a silent scream. While the shifting colors were picked up by the cameras, any images revealed within appeared for my eyes alone.

“So lonely. Such hurt.” I breathed in, opening myself up to—

Pounding footsteps and loud voices erupted out in the hallway.

“Why is he here?” I asked as the caretaker’s essence entered my body and spoke for the first time in decades.

“Why are you here?” Seth’s voice boomed through the house.

As the ghost’s presence instantly lessened and slipped away, the councilman, followed by his adult son who tagged along behind the older man like a toddler tossing his arms about during a tantrum.

“I don’t want my son involved in any of this hooey,” Councilman Beaumont yelled loud enough to rattle the plaster off the walls.

“Councilman, you don’t need to be here,” Hap pulled out his badge and barged over to confront the older man.

“You’re a lawman. You should know better. I got Seth involved with the debunker fellow because I wanted my son to see for himself this stuff’s not real. Now, you’ve got him involved with some sort of spirit ventriloquism or something. Yeah, she knew about the family treasure, but a woman can talk in any sort of voice she wants to make it seem like she’s somebody who passed on. What a load of bunk.”

As the connection to the caretaker severed, I reclaimed my vocal cords and cleared my throat. “It was my understanding you wanted us here, even living here in Death’s Door.”

“The touristy aspect,” the councilman wagged his index finger, “and the supposed supernatural activities are what keeps this town afloat. You producing your show from here will be the best thing to happen to our town, but I won’t fall for all those tall tales.”

“Just because,” Seth stomped his foot, “you don’t see and sense these things doesn’t mean others don’t.”

“See!” He made a scoffing noise. “You’re feeding his notions that ghosts and haints are real. Elliot assured me he would prove to Seth once and for all what you were all doing is make-believe. When Seth texted to tell me what you folks were doing tonight, I typed right back telling him to come on home.” Isaac scowled and shook his finger even harder. “You all should know better. You can play your games and make your money, but I will not allow you to wrongly influence my son.” He stomped over to Violet to tower over her chair. “And you! You promised you’d help my son to see reality for what it was and here you are playacting and going along with all of this paranormal rigmarole.”

“Mr. Beaumont, you don’t understand...” Violet slid her wary gaze toward me.

The older man shoved his face nearly nose-to-nose with her. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Dad,” Seth angled around his father in half-circles as if to draw his attention, “there’s something I need to tell you.

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