Ghostly Intentions (Ghost Releasers, Inc. Book 1) by Jill James

Author:Jill James [James, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Sweater Press
Published: 2018-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

Jack O’Malley wasn’t usually an indecisive person. Like the marauder some said he resembled, he usually did everything in a gung-ho manner, caution tossed to the wayside. Only with Megan Trent was he floundering at sea. He’d said he would call and she seemed okay with that. But now he was second and third-guessing whether a relationship with a client was the right thing to do. There weren’t rules against it. He wasn’t a doctor, a lawyer, or a cop. Nothing stood between him and Megan and some kind of relationship. Nothing but a dead husband and maybe something more. That something more had him hesitating.

Thinking back to their first meeting, the vision of the bruises on her neck still haunted him. He was out of his league here. In all his years of doing this, he’d never dealt with an entity making harsh physical contact. Nothing beyond a scratch or a slight hair-pulling.

Even with the frightened children, it had been more along the line of toys moving and the whole idea of ghosts of passed loved ones in their bedrooms. None of his past clients had been hurt when they’d been touched by the spirits. Fingers through hair or a tug of a shirt had been the extent of the spectral interactions.

Jack opened his computer browser and scanned paranormal research groups for any information of poltergeist activity. It wasn’t like the movies portrayed. No legitimate group had recorded activity like they had seen at Megan’s house. He hesitated to even mention it to a fellow researcher who hadn’t been there that night.

The public ate up the new movies out there and thought haunted houses swallowed up people and threw things around rooms. He paused in his typing. The entity at Megan’s house had tossed things around and created a vortex of wind. If it was so rare, what had they been dealing with at the house? And was it gone? That was the big question, wasn’t it?

He opened his e-mail and sent a message to Stephen Tillman, the brains behind Paranormal Equipment. Stephen supplied most of the recorders, motion detectors, and specialty cameras used by paranormal research groups worldwide.

Stephen,

I have a difficult case. Where are you on that imaging camera you were working on? I’m dealing with a poltergeist-like haunting, if you can believe it.

Jack

He pushed the Send button before he could change his mind. Two e-mails later he had a reply from Stephen ding in his Inbox.

Jack,

Are you shitting me? It’s too early for jokes. The San Jose group was at a haunted hotel all night to get what might be a garbled voice. Need coffee!!!

Stephen

He ran a hand over his stubble-rough chin. How much could he tell Stephen without breaking the Trent contract? Rubbing his forehead, the beginning of a headache pounded. He would go with the bare minimum. Megan’s need for privacy warred with his need for answers.

Stephen,

I shit you not. This was on an untelevised case. Voices, random wind, and physical contact.

Jack.

Stephen’s reply hit quicker than he could take a sip of coffee.

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