LifesABeach: What do you mean? You can’t believe you’re in Barnacle Bay? Aren’t you there for your class?
WolfKen: Yeah, but I’m here on assignment, and it’s so stupid. Seriously, my professor tells us we have to work with the police on a real case before we can get our PI permits, and the one he picks for me is the most crazy?
LifesABeach: Maybe it’s because you’ve been in pretty crazy situations before.
WolfKen: Jill, I’ve seen a unicorn, battled a magical native from Hidden Springs, and I’ve been kidnapped on occasion, but never once have I said I believed in ghosts.
Kenzie Howell could almost hear her best friend sigh on the other end of the instant message. She was sitting in a hotel room heavy with pirate and sea décor, her trusty dog Sage on one of the two twin beds (that looked like boats, no less), chatting with her best friend in Sunset Valley.
Kenzie had been going to school for the past few months in an attempt to get a private investigator’s permit. Unfortunately, one of the requirements of obtaining such a license was to help solve an actual crime happening, and her professor had given her the asinine task of traveling to Barnacle Bay to investigate ghost sightings.
She’d seen a lot of things. Her best friend was dating a vampire (though she didn’t know it), a unicorn had saved her life in Appaloosa Plains, and she’d been kidnapped several times and even threatened by a psycho Hidden Springs native who knew magic.
Still, despite all this, Kenzie wasn’t one to believe in ghosts. The other creatures at least somewhat made sense – they were still alive technically, just in forms other than human. Ghosts, on the other hand, were dead creatures. Why would they be floating around?
WolfKen: I just think it’s totally stupid that I have to help solve a real case even though I’ve solved countless real ones before. I’m almost convinced my professor gave me this assignment because he knows there’s no way I could solve it because there’s no truth to it. He’s probably mocking me because I’m suddenly no longer one of the best detectives around and going to school to be a PI.
LifesABeach: That’s a little far-fetched. I highly doubt he’s out to get you. But hey, if you’re in Barnacle Bay, you could always look up Alexis. And you’ve got Sage there with you. At least you won’t be bored.
WolfKen: But I’m here to work, and if I can’t find any decent evidence to solve this supposed case, I won’t pass my assignment. This is a real pain in the ass.
LifesABeach: How hard would it be to fake seeing a ghost?
WolfKen: I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.
LifesABeach: Sorry, just trying to help. Anyway, I have to get going. I’ve got more designs to finish. Isn’t it weird, you and I in our twenties still doing school stuff? I thought we were done with that like five years ago.
WolfKen: Yeah, it’s weird. And funny. Ha ha.
LifesABeach: Oh, calm down. I’m sure you’ll be fine. If there’s a case there, you’re the one who will find it and solve it.
WolfKen: Thanks. Say hi to Isaiah for me.
LifesABeach: I will. Later!
Kenzie leaned back on the bed and gazed at the ceiling. Sage jumped off the other bed and trotted over to her, setting her head in her lap. Kenzie scratched her behind the ears in appreciation.
Not wanting to procrastinate any longer, Kenzie stood up and reached for her car keys. She might as well get started on this case. The sooner she figured it out, the sooner she could go home. Funny, normally she wanted to take her time on a case and do a good job on it. Now, she wanted to get it over with because it was so ludicrous.
After she arrived at the police station, Kenzie met with the chief. He briefed her on what he’d heard, and she was convinced that he’d be as skeptical about the situation as she was. Unfortunately, she was proven wrong when she saw the seriousness in Chief Carter Sutton’s eyes.
“This young lady, Morgan Malloy, keeps insisting that she’s being haunted,” Chief Sutton said as he showed Kenzie the file. “Of course, not surprisingly, no one’s been able to turn up any evidence on these claims. Even if they did, this is a ghost we’re talking here. They don’t leave fingerprints or any sort of trace.”
“You really believe a ghost is what Morgan is seeing? Couldn’t there be some sort of rational explanation?”
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Ms. Howell. I realize you’re not from here, but perhaps you should familiarize yourself with Barnacle Bay before you start dismissing things as driveling.”
Kenzie crossed her arms over her chest and looked into the chief’s eyes. “As a detective, I have to investigate every angle and every possible scenario. I’m not trying to dismiss anything. Believe me, I’m trying to take this as seriously as possible, but what proof do you have that this really is a ghost and not some sort of trick on the eyes?”
Before the chief could answer, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Carter said. The door opened and in stepped a young man in a peculiar outfit depicting a gravestone on it. Kenzie thought he stepped off a set of some supernatural ghost-killing film.
“Rafe, right on time,” Carter said as he stood up. “Perhaps you can explain to Ms. Howell here that our ghost problem isn’t a figment of our imagination.”
Rafe looked at Kenzie with a simper as he stood arrogantly next to the door. “Hey, I know you,” he said in a smug and conceited voice. “You’re that former detective from Riverview who’s supposedly ‘trying new things’ by taking PI classes.”
Kenzie sighed. Was there anyone who hadn’t heard that? Still, it was better than the truth – that she’d lost her job for a conflict of interest that she’d rather not dwell on.
“Ms. Howell,” Chief Sutton introduced, “This is Rafe Grover, our professional ghost hunter.”
“Professional ghost hunter?”
“Don’t mock it,” Rafe chided. “It’s an honest job that gives me an honest living. You’d be surprised at the number of paranormal things that happen around here.”
“I already am.”
“Good. If you at least admit the possibility of the paranormal existing, then you’ll be more likely to help us out.”
“Wait a minute. If you’re a professional ghost hunter, why do you need me?”
Rafe threw Kenzie a scowl. “I can’t hunt what I can’t find. All ghosts I’ve encountered have tried to scare people, and they can basically possess a house and lift furniture and stuff into the air. Hence the term haunted house. This place is great during Spooky Day, FYI. But this one, as soon as I get to Morgan’s house, after she calls us hysterically, everything is fine. No floating furniture or anything. No ghost I’ve ever run into has been scared off; they tend to stand, not literally of course, their ground. And usually they’re out to hurt someone, but Morgan is always fine.”
“And again, why do you need me?”
“There’s no evidence of a ghost being in Morgan’s house at all. I can’t do anything about a ghost I don’t see. I’m here for a back-up, but Chief Sutton and I both think you should see if you, with your detective skills, can dig up something concrete.”
Kenzie glanced sharply at the chief. “You want me to find evidence on a ghost? Even after you yourself said they don’t even leave fingerprints or any form of identification?”
“It was my understanding, Ms. Howell, that part of the requirements of becoming a private investigator was to take a course to do so, and then help solve a real case. If you aren’t taking this seriously, maybe I should give your professor a call.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me?”
“No, I’m just saying that we called you here for a serious reason, not as a joke. I don’t want you to take it lightly.”
“Fine, do you have any other leads than Morgan supposedly seeing a ghost that even your ghost hunter can’t find?”
Rafe’s neck flushed red but Kenzie ignored it as she focused her attention to the chief.
“Technically, Morgan claims she doesn’t actually see this ghost,” he said. “She just sees her furniture floating for no reason.”
Kenzie tried not to roll her eyes. Of course no one saw anything but supposed floating furniture. Trying to hide her disdain, she asked, “Is it possible for a ghost to possess someone? Maybe take control of their body?”
“That’s an urban legend,” Rafe said. “Ghosts can’t actually do that. They can’t change forms or anything of the sort; all they can do is wreak havoc. Which is why, I don’t care what this ghost wants, I’m going to take care of it.”
Somehow this didn’t make Kenzie feel any better. She was basically going on a ghost hunt, investigating odd claims that had no evidence to support them. She couldn’t believe what she had to stoop to in order to get a PI permit. But alas, she’d made this bed. Now she had to lie in it.
As she was about to head out after thanking the two men for their time (and ignoring Rafe’s petulant smirks), Carter suggested that she and Rafe both go to Morgan’s house to see if they could dig up something. That was the last thing Kenzie wanted to do. The last time she’d had a partner (other than Sage), it had ended up with bad judgment on her part and heartbreak later on down the road.
But then again, there was no risk of that happening this time since Rafe was such a pompous ass.
Sage was waiting for Kenzie in the car since dogs weren’t allowed in the police station, but the nice weather kept her from getting too hot or cold. She happily wagged her tail when she saw Kenzie approach her Requiescence. After letting her out to stretch, Rafe told Kenzie that he’d meet her at Morgan’s house. Kenzie agreed, climbed back into the car with Sage, and reluctantly started the engine.
She plugged Morgan’s address into her GPS and made her way to the house. The whole time, all she could think about was how incredibly asinine this whole thing seemed. Was she starting to regret her decision to go back to school to get a private investigator permit? Was she getting burned out on this profession? Confusion and befuddlement clouded her mind and she hoped it was only temporary. After all, she’d wanted to be a detective and solve crimes forensically since she was in middle school. Why would one silly mistake change that now?
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