The Gift by JP McLean

Author:JP McLean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, flying, ghosts, magic, contemporary, series, crystal, british columbia, beach adventure, mature content
Publisher: JP McLean

Chapter Sixteen

Jackson pulled me into the house and slid the door closed. “Do you have binoculars?” he asked, moving us down the hallway toward the front door.

“No. What do you think it is?”

“It looks suspiciously like a camera.”

“A camera? What would a camera be doing there?”

“Good question.” Jackson dropped my hand and paced up and down the hall, dragging a hand through his hair. “I need to get a closer look. You stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, slipping quietly out the front door.

Through the window in the study I watched, fascinated, as he lifted mere inches off the ground then glided swiftly over the lawn, as if he were wearing skates, before disappearing into the trees on the south side. I hadn’t seen that Flier move before.

I dashed to the kitchen window to follow his movement. Moments later, I caught a glimpse of him. He approached the arbutus tree from height on the far side of it and huddled over the device for a few minutes before leaving the same way he’d arrived. I returned to the front door to let him back in.

“Will your computer read this?” he asked, examining a small memory card. He walked briskly toward my laptop as he held out the tiny plastic square.

“I have no idea,” I said, once again hamstrung by my lack of computer know-how. “What did you find?”

He planted himself in front of my laptop and pushed the power switch. “It’s a camera, but it doesn’t look like it’s been there for long.” He examined the edges of my computer searching for an appropriate slot. “I think we’re in luck,” he said, pushing the card in.

After a few keystrokes, a checkerboard of photos appeared: dozens of them. “It’s motion activated.” He quickly clicked from one image to the next and we got our first look at what the camera had captured. The view was a northward wedge that broadened out from an apex at the southern edge of my property to include the area from my deck to mid-tide. The view also stretched up the beach, encompassing my neighbour to the north.

“They’re high-resolution photos. Whoever is taking these can blow up the detail of even the smallest pebble on that beach.” Jackson rested an elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead as he moved the cursor back over the first photo. “This was taken at six fifteen this morning,” he said, pointing to the date stamp in the top-right corner. “The camera isn’t wired for remote transmission, so whoever is behind this either set it up or changed the card, early this morning.”

He set the photos into a slide show and we watched the images flash by. The majority of them were triggered by birds. Jackson stopped the slide show at eight seventeen, when an image of me in my nightshirt, out on the deck, landed on the screen.

“Oh, my god,” I said, shocked to see the clarity of the evidence frozen on the computer screen.

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