Liv peered over Kayla’s shoulder at the laptop that was perched on the darker woman’s knees. She rested her chin on a broad shoulder and yawned. It was almost 10:00 PM. "Ever notice how tired you can get from sitting around doing nothing like we did this afternoon? That’s so weird."

Kayla was too absorbed in what she was doing to do more than grunt.

Liv rolled her eyes.

An intense blue gaze flickered from place to place on the screen as Kayla watched over twenty-four hours’ worth of surveillance recordings taken in Mr. Keith’s bedroom. No blood gushing out of the walls, big surprise. She was sitting uncomfortably on the hard wood floor of the bedroom in question, watching studiously as the laptop’s digital recording whizzed by at a startling rate. To her left was a small stack of DVDs. The women’s damp coats had been laid out in the corner of the room next to a pile of take-out cartons, empty soda cans, and Styrofoam cups that had once held hot, black coffee. And as per Liv’s doing, every light in the house was shining brightly.

"How can you watch that so fast?"

"Whaddya mean?" Kayla answered absently, pausing the picture for a split second before clicking a button and starting it up again.

"Won’t you miss something with it playing that fast?" she asked patiently, waiting for Kayla to come out of her trance. The only indication that time was passing on the screen was the eerie movement of shadows as they moved across the room’s floors and walls and a digital time display in the lower left hand corner.

"Nah." Kayla paused the display again then frowned and pressed play. "I know what I’m looking for."

"Carrie in her prom dress?"

Kayla smiled wryly. "That would make for a nice change of pace. Actually, I’m looking for anything out of the ordinary and for light balls." She looked at the screen as she spoke. "There seems to be an association between light balls and hauntings."

"Light balls?" Liv rubbed her cheek affectionately against Kayla’s before dropping down alongside her on the floor.

Kayla paused her computer. "Tiny focal points of radiant energy." She cocked her head to the side. "That’s what I hypothesize they are, anyway." The tall woman paused the playback and set the machine on the floor next to her. Then she went over to her equipment trunk and dug down to the bottom, not stopping until her hands hit something smooth that felt like paper. "Ah. Here we go." She padded back over to her lover. As she sat down, she handed Liv a ragged Manila envelope that contained a single photograph. "They sort of look like little stars or like those pen-light pointers people use for presentations."

Liv opened the folder and examined the photograph. It was of Kayla and an old woman sitting around a small kitchen table. Kayla looked a little younger and her hair was several inches shorter. The old woman was clutching a crucifix with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. Tiny pinpoints of light dotted the space around her. "Did you see these at the time?" Liv pointed at the picture where Kayla appeared to be looking directly at the other woman.

She shook her head. "Nope. It wasn’t until I looked at the recording the next day that I caught a glimpse of them." With her index finger she traced the dots. "Those are yellow. I’ve seen pictures of green, white, and red, too." A buzzing fly circled her head and she shooed it away with a few swats of her hand.

"Wow." Liv set the photograph down and looked at the computer screen with renewed interest. "So have you seen any yet on this recording?"

"Not yet. But that’s why I’ve got the speed cranked up. They’re actually easier to spot in fast-forward mode. Sometimes the balls appear and disappear all in the same spot. Those are called stationary light balls. But more often they dart around objects or people like fireflies and leave a light trail the way a shooting star does. There’s almost no research on them though, because the only evidence they exist at all is photographic. They’re not visible to the naked eye in real time and no ‘normal’ or at least plausible environmental cause can explain their presence in most cases." Kayla turned her head and regarded Liv seriously for a moment. Then she smiled. "I like this." She wrapped her fingers around Liv’s and squeezed gently.

"Holding my hand?" Liv asked impishly.

"Yes," Kayla admitted with an arched brow. "But I meant working with you." Her smile widened until it shaped such a contented, happy grin that Liv found herself mirroring it without thought.

"Me too, Kayla. I feel like I’m learning a lot."

"You are. And you’re doing great." As abruptly as it came, however, the tender moment passed, and Kayla was all business again. She pulled her reading glasses out of the front pocket of her denim shirt and tucked her hair behind her ears before starting up the recording again. "This is murder on my eyes," she complained slightly petulantly. "No wonder I need these damn things."

They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, and Liv whispered her thanks when Kayla tilted the screen a little so they both had a good view. The picture suddenly went black and Kayla took a moment to replace the DVD. "Nothing for the kitchen. First floor hallway’s next." The scene changed to the narrow passage that led to the first cluster of guest rooms.

"So do you think this place is haunted?" Liv asked curiously, her eyes glued to the screen. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer, but if she was going to get serious about this job she was going have to accept that it was at least a possibility.

"The feelings you described to me earlier… the ones you had last night, downstairs?"

Liv nodded, remembering the icy chill that had chased down her spine and how the hair on her arms had stood on end as though being subjected to static electricity. "How could I forget?"

"Those are very consistent with reported hauntings." Kayla frowned. "Though the whole blood-on-the-wall thing is really more in line with demonic possession or some sort of cult ritual than it is ghostly. The profiles of those events are very distinct. And if I do say so myself," she shrugged self-deprecatingly, "I have a pretty good sense about these things and this seems like a haunting of some sort to me." Kayla surprised herself a little by how sure she was. She tried not to form any sort of opinion until she’d analyzed all the hard data, but something about this job was different.

Liv swallowed hard. "Demonic? As in: Linda Blair, crosses, and spewing green pea soup?"

"Don’t be ridiculous," Kayla laughed. "Besides, I’d spew too if I ate pea soup." She mock-shivered. "Yuck."

"Thank God." Liv breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that had to be fake."

"Oh, it wasn’t fake," Kayla corrected her conversationally. "The film just combined several well-documented accounts of Satanic possession into one single incident for dramatic effect." She snorted in disgust. "So unrealistic. Speaking in tongues, the Stigmata, and levitation? I mean, come on!" She looked at Liv as though her conclusion was completely obvious. "You might get two of those—tops."

The smile vanished from Liv’s face. "I feel so much better now," she said flatly. "Thank you."

"No problem. But we don’t deal with those intentionally, Liv. There are specialists who do, just like I specialize in–"

"Ghosts?"

"You could say that." Kayla stopped the recording again and jumped to her feet. She handed the machine to Liv. "Bathroom break for me and those six cups of coffee you bought." She glanced at the computer then back at Liv. "Can you keep going on your own?"

"Sure," Liv answered excitedly. Another fly buzzed around her face, and she batted it away, smiling diabolically when she hit it and sent it sprawling to the wood floor.

"Great. I’ll be back in a few. If you spot anything out of the ordinary just pause the recording, okay?" She left the room, chuckling to herself when she heard Liv cursing as the dazed insect flew up from the floor and began annoying her again.

"Go ‘way!" Liv’s hand darted out, and in an impressive display of coordination she snatched the fly out of mid-air and threw it hard against the floor, ending its tiny existence instantly. She stared at its lifeless, black body for a few seconds. "Don’t look at me that way," she warned. "You made me do it. It’s not like I wanted to."

Free from distraction, the blonde woman turned her attention back to the laptop screen. After a few moments she felt her attention began to wane. She rubbed her eyes and when she glanced back at the screen she saw it. "Whoa!" She hit ‘pause’, then ‘rewind’, and ‘play’. It was so fast that she nearly missed it, but if she was careful, she could pause it at just the right frame and see a fluorescent blue light ball. It looked just like the ones from the picture Kayla had showed her, and when she allowed the recording to play she could see it began at one end of the hallway and race erratically to the other end, where it disappeared. "Oh, wow." Liv paused the recording again and pushed to her feet. "I can’t wait to show Kayla this. She’s going to freak."

She looked towards the door, feeling for the first time since coming to Edinburgh that she’d actually made a contribution towards this case. Sure, Kayla would have probably found it herself. But the point was, it wasn’t Kayla, it was her. It wasn’t obvious either; it had been a good catch. "Where are you, ghostbuster? You didn’t drink that much coffee."

Another fly landed on the tip of Liv’s nose. "God dammit!" She knocked it away and glared down at her previous victim, which was still lying on the floor quite dead. Liv carefully set down the laptop, her eyes scanning the large room. In the very upper corner she spied several more buzzing flies. "Where are you little nasties coming from?" she wondered aloud. Moving closer, she peered at the white wall, the same wall that had supposedly been drenched in blood only weeks before. Would bugs still be attracted to it? Probably, she decided, though surely the painters would have scrubbed it clean before painting, right?

She lifted her eyes up to the corner again. Several more flies had mysteriously joined the first few. She walked a few steps to the window and gave it a firm tug. It was closed tight. When she looked back the number of bugs had decreased. "What the–? Ah. Ha." The flies were moving into the corner of the room and disappearing into the wall. There must be a crack. She took a step closer and heard a tiny crunch under her foot. Liv lifted her shoe and noticed a few crushed paint chips stuck to its sole. She brushed them off. "Hmmm…"

Doing something she’d only seen in the movies, she made a fist and knocked on the wall. Okay, that would have been more enlightening if it hadn’t sounded exactly like a wall. But gamely she walked over to another wall and repeated the process. The resultant noise sounded firmer, and definitely less hollow.

Twin eyebrows jumped. Something behind the other wall perhaps? Liv spun around at a faint noise. "Kayla," she called out loudly, straining to listen. "Are you there?"

Silence.

"Okay, don’t be such a chicken," Liv said on a shaky exhale. "The only working bathroom is downstairs." She cringed because she’d found that out the hard way yesterday. "Kayla just can’t hear you." Liv put her hands on her hips and returned her attention to the wall, puzzling out how she could see what was behind it without tearing a hole in it. Next door, she remembered, was a small sitting room. "Well," she sighed, "might as well see what it sounds like from that side. It’s probably best that I’m alone anyway, considering I’m already talking to myself like a crazy person."

Like the rest of the house, the study sat empty. Except for the wall that it shared with Mr. Keith’s bedroom, which was covered with built-in, ornate, oak cabinets. Liv drew her fingers across the dust-free surface. The craftsmanship was truly beautiful. And they also meant that she wasn’t any closer to figuring if there was something behind the wall. She opened one of the tall cabinet’s doors, which creaked quietly. The empty space was almost big enough for her to stand in, so she did just that. Deciding this was as close as she was likely to get to the actual wall, she knocked on the cabinet back, giving it several solid thumps. On the third hit, the wooden back gave way, swinging away from Liv and sending out a wave of warm, stagnant air.

A horrible, putrid smelled assaulted her and Liv covered her mouth and nose and stumbled back out of the cabinet. "Jesus," she coughed, trying to keep from gagging as a small swarm of flies flew out, some hitting her in their confusion before darting away. "Eww." Safely out of the cabinet, she glanced back at the study door. "Kayla," she called again, growing more alarmed with every passing second. Her partner had been gone for nearly twenty minutes and she was torn between going downstairs to look for her and continuing her exploration of the secret she’d just discovered.

With a sigh she schooled herself in patience. She’s still busy, Liv. Get a grip. You can’t go charging downstairs for no good reason and start banging on the bathroom door like some psycho. She’ll think you’re ridiculous. Part of her taking on a partner should be that she can have a few minutes to pee in peace if she wants to. But how friggin’ long does it take to use the bathroom? Tomorrow, dammit, we’re going to the grocery store for some prunes or bran muffins or something. I don’t care what she says.

"Okay." Liv shooed away several more flies. "Let’s see what we have in there. Please God, don’t let it be a body." She froze, not having really considered the possibility until the words tumbled out. "Oh, shit." She searched her mind but neither the files nor Glen or Mr. Keith had mentioned that someone was missing. Okay, it’s probably not a body. Maybe it’s a dead mouse or something. Yeah. She suddenly felt a little better. That’s disgusting, but I can live with that.

Liv pinched her nostrils shut and moved back to the cabinet, ducking her head into the space between the walls. It wasn’t, she discovered, really a hidden room like the ones they’d found in the house on Cobb Island. Rather, it appeared to be nothing more than an extra-large space between the walls. That’s how all these old houses are, for all I know. The space was no more than three feet wide and traveled the full length of the wall. The light that spilled in from the study wasn’t strong enough to reach the corners of the hidden space, but Liv’s eyes were already beginning to adjust to the shadowy interior.

A folding metal chair came into view, and a tiny table that was, upon closer examination, a TV tray. On the tray was a pair of sewing scissors, a roll of masking tape, and a small pad of paper covered with doodles and phrases that were scribbled unevenly across its surface. I can read that later, when I’m not in here. She stuffed the pad in her back pocket and picked up an empty pack of cigarettes and a matchbook. Ah. Some light.

She let go of her nose and lit a match and moved a few steps deeper into the space between the walls. The smell was filtering through her pinched fingers, bringing with it a disturbingly familiar odor.

Blood.

She closed her eyes. Don’t freak. Don’t freak. "Ouch!" The match burnt out against her fingertips. Wincing, Liv popped her fingers into her mouth then lit another match. Several more flies buzzed around her head but she didn’t try to knock them away for fear of extinguishing the tiny flame with her movement. The pack only had three left.

A few feet more and her eyes widened at the sight of what the flies were so attracted to. She stared in horror. "Oh, my God."

Liv felt a sudden rush of cool air behind her. The match blew out and the hidden door behind her slammed shut, plunging her into inky darkness.

Liv’s heart began to pound so hard she truly feared it would explode out of her chest, and her fingers were trembling so hard she could barely light another match. But finally it did light, illuminating the space in a hazy, golden glow. She let out a slightly hysterical laugh, relieved beyond measure that, other than the flies, she was still alone. She moved to the hidden door and with a gentle tug on a rope that had been nailed to the wood as a makeshift door handle, she pulled open the door. "S’okay," she told herself, laying a palm on her heaving chest. "Everything is okay. It was nothing."

Grabbing the folding chair, she placed it in front of the wood panel that served as a door, making sure that it couldn’t somehow blow closed again.

The match went out with a gentle poof, sending a spiraling trail of dark smoke into the air. Liv lit the last match and quickly turned back to Mr. Keith’s bedroom wall, taking in the sight for the second time.

Lines of IV tubing had been strung from mid-wall to ceiling at two-foot intervals all along the wall. At the bottom of these lines hung collapsed, mostly empty, IV bags of blood. They all had at least an inch or more of the thick substance still pooled at their bases and several of the bags had split down the sides. Inside the bags were dozens of dead flies that had crawled too far in while feasting on the rich blood and become trapped. The floor below these bags was sticky, buzzing with live flies and utterly rank.

Green eyes lifted to the top corner of the space and Liv saw the tiniest shred of light piercing the shadows. It was a crack in the wall into Mr. Keith’s bedroom and the passageway to the outside world for the flies.

The final match burnt out and Liv ran from the room into the study, taking deep breaths of the fresher air. "Kayla was right. Ghosts sure as hell weren’t responsible for that." Shutting everything up tight, she stalked into the hall and stuck her head into Mr. Keith’s room. It was empty. Where are you, Kayla? "Okay, ghostbuster. Ready or not, here I come."

***

Liv was just about to step onto the first stair that would lead her to where she thought Kayla was when she felt it. A sense of foreboding crept over her senses, and before she could even process it a dark wave of misery washed over. So strong was the emotion that she cried out softly. Kayla! her mind called frantically. Her chest tightened until it became nearly impossible to breathe, and she felt a rush of cool air that made her shiver. She would have gasped if it hadn’t felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest. But the physical pain couldn’t touch the emotional anguish she was feeling. God. Her hand shot out and gripped the banister so she wouldn’t topple down the steps.

Then the pressure on her chest eased, and the air around her seemed to warm. She straightened and looked around with dazed eyes as she sucked in an enormous breath. It was over and the whole thing hadn’t taken more than five seconds. "Holy Christ."

Her mind reeled. What is going on? The blood on the walls had clearly been a set up. She’d found proof of that. Yet something was happening here. The light balls had shown up on the recording. And this was the second time that she’d experienced feelings that made no sense. Kayla’s? She thought about that for a second. No. This wasn’t even the telepathic or emotional connection she shared with Kayla. Thank God. This was something altogether different.

"Liv!"

Now I’m hearing things? But now there was the sound of footsteps. "Kayla?"

"Liv?" Kayla’s voice boomed again from near the house’s entrance.

Liv pushed her hair from her face with a trembling hand and looked up to see Kayla bounding up the steps. Her voice caught as she said, "Thank goodness it’s you." Her knees nearly gave way with relief when the younger woman wrapped long arms around her in an embrace so comforting it was nearly painful.

"What happened? Christ, you scared the shit out of me."

"Where were you? I–" A noise at the bottom of she stairs caused green eyes to dart sideways.

Standing at the bottom of the steps, wearing a pair of black slacks, matching blazer and a canary-yellow silk blouse was Glen Fuguchi. She looked up at Liv curiously but didn’t say a word.

Liv’s eyes narrowed and Kayla could feel the body in her arms stiffen. "Are you all right?" Kayla repeated, concern coloring her words.

Liv tuned out Glen’s presence and burrowed closer to Kayla. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I think so. How… I mean how did you–?"

Kayla’s brow furrowed. "I heard you scream my name."

Liv nodded and rested her forehead on Kayla’s collarbone, knowing she hadn’t called to Kayla out loud. The telepathic link was growing stronger between them everyday, and right now she couldn’t help but believe that was a good thing. "I should have thought to do that before," she commented softly against Kayla’s shirt.

"Do what, honey?"

"Never mind." She tilted her head back and regarded her partner with a mixture of worry and consternation. Liv gestured with her chin. "Is she the reason you’ve been gone so long?"

Kayla closed her eyes for a minute. Uh oh. She’d totally forgotten that Liv would be waiting for her. Glen had shown up when Kayla was on her way back from the bathroom. The Japanese woman had let herself in with her key and they’d literally bumped into each other. They’d been having a discussion that was, in actuality, an argument, ever since.

Glen chose that moment to clear her throat. Loudly.

"Are you going to tell me why you turned as white as a sheet and headed for the steps like the hounds of Hell were chasing you, Kayla? Or will I be left to wonder?" Glen smiled sarcastically and Liv found herself with the urge to bitch-slap her into next week. The bad feeling she had about this woman intensified every time she saw her. How much was simple jealousy and how much was, well, more simple jealousy, Liv wasn’t sure.

"I’m sorry about running out on you mid-sentence, Glen," Kayla piped up, releasing Liv from their embrace only to wrap a casual arm over the other woman’s shoulder. "But I just had a bad feeling."

Glen arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "Ahh, more of your paranormal feelings." She emphasized the last word by drawing it out.

Liv’s nostrils flared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kayla blinked at her partner and then turned the same stunned expression on Glen.

"I don’t mean anything at all, I assure you. I should be used to them by now. At one time we did spend a lot of," she paused and smiled again, "quality time together." Glen’s eyes locked on Liv’s and the look she threw her clearly said, ‘Kayla was mine and you only have her now because I don’t want her.’

Liv’s skin flushed as her hackles rose. You little twelve-year-old bitch, I need to wring your scrawny neck.

"As I was saying to Kayla before she… well, before. I spoke with Mr. Keith on the phone this afternoon. He’d like to have the furniture delivered tomorrow and is hoping to start showing the house to groups of travel agents by the end of the week. He was able to book a group from France earlier than he expected and wants this mess behind him first. I assured him you’d have a full report explaining that there is nothing haunted about this property by tomorrow. We’ll be holding a press conference the next day."

Two mouths dropped open.

Liv turned to Kayla, unsure whether this was how things always worked. One look at the dark-haired woman’s face, however, and she was sure her original reaction had been right on the money. This was bullshit. "Kayla," she said, taking this opportunity to let Glen know that she wasn’t only around Kayla because she had the hots for her. Okay, I do have the hots for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be dead weight in this partnership. "Light balls did appear in the recording from the hall, just like the ones you showed me in the photograph. I paused the computer on the exact spot so you could take a look at them."

Kayla smiled proudly. "Great work, Liv."

Liv blushed a little under not just the praise but the undisguised adoration in Kayla’s eyes. I am so lucky. But her expression changed when she remembered the reason Kayla had come flying up the stairs. "Just a minute ago, something happened here. I got this weird sense of–" Liv shook her head, not sure how exactly to articulate what had happened. It was similar to what she’d felt before, only far more intense. "It was an overwhelming feeling of–"

Kayla’s hand dropped from Liv’s shoulder. "Sadness? Like something terrible had happened or was about to happen but you were powerless to stop it?"

"Yes!" Liv exclaimed, her eyes widening. "That’s exactly it. It was a horrible feeling of longing."

Kayla nodded gravely. "Yes it was. I felt it too. On the way down the stairs when I was heading for the bathroom."

Glen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was impossible. She marched halfway up the stairs then stopped and blurted out, "What are you talking about?" She wasn’t going to lose a top-paying client over Kayla and most especially over Liv’s feelings.

"The same thing I was trying to explain to you five minutes ago. Only now Liv’s found something on the recording to back it up," Kayla answered impatiently.

"That doesn’t prove anything and you know it."

Kayla looked at Glen as though she was staring at a stranger. Any other time she’d been able to capture light balls on film, the woman had nearly done handstands. While they weren’t definitive proof, even within the scientific community, they were something that always made Kayla dig deeper, and nearly every researcher she knew felt the same way. But more than that, and why Glen had always cared before, they were something, on film, that you could show a client. "There is something happening in this house, Glen. I don’t know what that something is, but my gut, my equipment, and now my partner are all agreeing with me. You can’t–"

"Please," Glen interrupted hotly. "Now you’re basing your research on your girlfriend’s impressions? I don’t care what she says! You don’t expect me to believe that blood was dripping down the walls, do you? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard."

Kayla’s face became more animated with her exasperation. "But it wasn’t so ridiculous that you insisted I fly half way around the world to come and check it out?"

Liv drew in a breath and opened her mouth ready to blurt out what she’d seen upstairs.

Kayla and Glen looked at her anxiously as they waited for whatever it she was going to say. "Liv?" Kayla prompted after a few seconds. "Were umm…?" She rolled her hand in the motion for her to continue.

Liv licked her lips and focused on Kayla, turning her back on Glen, who was still standing in the middle of the stairway. Something told her to wait until she was alone with Kayla before talking about what she’d discovered behind the wall in Mr. Keith’s room. "No, I wasn’t going to say anything," she said evenly and in a slightly raised voice for Glen’s benefit. For Kayla’s eyes only, she mouthed ‘later’.

Except for a tiny jump in dark eyebrows, Kayla’s face remained passably neutral. "Okay." Kayla’s eyes pinned Glen. She wanted there to be no debate about this. "Whether or not you care what my new research partner thinks is immaterial. I do care. She’s proven to me already not only her intelligence but that she has a natural gift for this work. You know how important my work is to me, Glen. Don’t belittle it by assuming I’d compromise my integrity for a quick fuck."

Glen mentally blanched as the words unknowingly hit too close to home.

Liv’s head whipped around and she stared at Kayla in disbelief. She wasn’t sure whether to hug her or slap her senseless. "Quick fuck?"

Kayla winced and lowered her voice. "That didn’t come out right, Liv."

Liv pursed her lips. "Uh huh."

Glen glared at Liv evilly then, and pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off her impending headache. It had to be the linguist’s fault that Kayla was being so obstinate about this case. Though in all honesty, Glen couldn’t recall Kayla being anything other than difficult. In the past, however, she’d always been able to work around it. And I will again. Olivia Hazelwood is nothing more than a new obstacle on a very well worn path. But even as she thought the words she couldn’t make herself believe them totally. "I want that report tomorrow, Kayla." Her voice was unyielding. Kayla’s gaze went so cold Glen could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Kayla pointed an angry finger at Glen. "Since when is my research dictated by what you want?" She allowed her hand to return to her side. "But if Mr. Keith wants a report tomorrow, I’ll be happy to give him one," Kayla answered amiably, surprising both Liv and Glen again.

Glen let out a deep breath. Yes. She’s finally seeing reason. "Thank you."

"The report will say that at this point in my research I suspect paranormal activity."

"Kayla!" Glen stamped her foot in a frantic gesture of juvenile frustration that made Liv smile.

"I’m sorry, Glen." But Kayla’s tone made it very clear she wasn’t in the least bit sorry. She crossed her arms over her chest. "He’s paying for my opinion, and so far that’s what it is. After a few more days," she shrugged, "who knows? I need time to take more readings and see if I can get some base numbers to work with. Then I want to research the house itself. I should also interview Mr. Keith, the maid, and her daughter. I want to hear for myself what they’ve seen and heard over the years, not just about the incident with the wall."

Glen’s hands shaped fists as she felt her temper rising to the surface. This job was supposed to be simple and clean! Kayla was supposed to confirm that there was nothing otherworldly going on in the house and then everyone would be happy. Didn’t the woman care how hard she worked to get clients? "We don’t have a few more days. Mr. Keith wants the report by tomorrow night and the client is always right."

"Not this time," Kayla shot back stubbornly.

Glen marched up the steps. "At lunch the other day you practically accused him of being a dawdling old man or a drug addict! And now suddenly you believe him?"

Kayla’s jaw worked. "It’s not suddenly. It’s…"

But Glen wasn’t really interested in Kayla’s answer, and the taller woman’s unusually reasoned response floated right over her as she stewed malevolently. Does she really believe the huge fees I negotiate are because people actually want real scientific answers? Is she that naïve?

Glen’s thoughts began to filter into Kayla’s consciousness and she pushed them away without examining them as she continued with what was fast turning into a tirade.

Glen knew all too well what their clients wanted. They wanted peace of mind, sleep without nightmares, and a rational explanation for the irrational from someone with lots of letters after her last name. So what if every once in a while she ‘created’ a little business? She gave them what they wanted, they paid her well for it, and nobody got hurt.

Kayla clapped her hands together loudly, causing Glen’s eyes to snap up. "Are you even listening to me, Glen?"

Glen nodded as she broke out into a nervous sweat. This cannot be happening. I will not lose this client. His fees are already spent. With Mr. Keith she’d gone farther than she ever had before, guaranteeing not only Kayla’s final results but a timeframe for those results. After all, she and that cute, curly-haired simpleton, Mary MacPherson, had created this little ‘haunting’. It couldn’t be real.

"Glen!" Kayla’s hands twitched with the need to reach out and shake the small woman until she was sure she had her full attention. "Dammit, are you paying attention or am I talking to thin air?"

Glen shook her head a little as she snapped out of her own thoughts. "I heard you, Kayla. I’ll be back here tomorrow evening for your report. Unless you’ve got something tangible to show me, I expect that your research will reflect the truth.

Kayla’s body went ramrod straight. "Are you saying I’m lying?"

Glen turned around and began trotting down the steps. She had to get away from Kayla’s prying mind and think. She needed a contingency plan. "I’m saying that your reputation and mine are nothing to trifle with." When she reached the bottom she glanced over her shoulder at Kayla. "There is nothing going on here other than the overactive imagination of an old man. There will be a press conference the day after tomorrow, whether you’re finished poking around here or not. If you want to make a fool of yourself by announcing there is a ghost, or Big Foot, or the Loch Ness monster himself is living in the mud puddle on the front sidewalk, then be my guest! But you won’t be taking me down with you." Her dark eyes flicked to Liv and she all but sneered. "This could ruin her career. If you care for her at all, you won’t allow that to happen."

Glen slammed the door on the way out, leaving the old house silent except for the ragged sounds of Kayla’s breathing.

Liv was too stunned to breathe at all.

***

Eyes closed and alone in bed, Liv heard the clock in their room at the Bed & Breakfast chime three times. She turned on her side and reached out with one hand, feeling the cool empty space next to her where Kayla should be. She sighed and opened her eyes, finding no peace even in the warm bed and cozy room.

Liv stood and wrapped the blanket from the bed around her shoulders. Slipping a hand out she pulled back the thin curtains and looked down to the beach below. She could still see Kayla sitting there on a blanket, bathed in moonlight, hair blowing gently as she silently stared into the night. Alone.

"Kayla," Liv sighed, her heart urging her to go out to the beach, but her head reminding her that Kayla had asked for this time alone. She’d shared her discovery of the IV bags and the hidden space between the walls, where someone had waited to frighten Mr. Keith, with Kayla, who hadn’t been at all surprised. To the contrary, the blood on the wall had never impressed Kayla as a true paranormal event. The fact that she could now be certain of that allowed her to shift her focus to the areas that were truly intriguing to her.

They’d spent nearly an hour studying the light balls that had shown so clearly in the recording of the Keith House’s hallway. Those, and the feelings both she and Kayla had experienced in the house, were more than enough to whet Kayla’s appetite for discovery. Kayla had expressed, with typical enthusiasm for her job, that she was certain the house had more to reveal. Just because part of the mystery had turned out to be a hoax, it didn’t mean that the rest of it was.

It wasn’t until Liv remembered the pad of paper in her pocket that the evening came to an abrupt and painful end. She and Kayla had flipped through the book and with every turning page exactly what happened to Mr. Keith that night became crystal clear. They learned the who, how, and why, as though the entire thing was a cheesy, scripted story and now was time for the answers to be revealed to them before the final act.

The first page, with the name printed in bold letters in the upper right hand corner, had identified the notebook’s owner: Mary MacPherson, daughter of former Keith House maid Mrs. MacPherson. And Liv and Kayla both admitted that at least part of that made perfect sense. Of all people, she would have had total access to the house. She’d grown up there and had likely explored every nook and cranny of the old place. Who better to ferret out a secret hiding place than a child?

Page two yielded the ‘how’. Mary had written down step-by-step instructions for herself.

And on and on it had read. Liv and Kayla had actually burst out laughing. Mary was either several fries short of a Happy Meal or the most helpful criminal on the planet. Her entire plan was laid out in great detail, and in hideous spelling, right there in black and white. Liv wouldn’t have believed someone could be so careless if she hadn’t seen that ‘stupid criminal special’ on cable television just before leaving for Edinburgh. The bad guy had written a ransom demand to a bank teller on the back on an envelope addressed to him, and then forgotten to gas up his getaway car, which ended up puttering to a pathetic stop right in front of a local police station. Actually, compared to that guy, Mary looked like a mastermind.

On the next page, Mary reminded herself to buy more cigarettes, a book on hauntings, and call about her mother’s doctor appointment. And she drew a picture of a tree that wasn’t half bad.

When they flipped to page four, the smile fell from Kayla’s face and landed with an unceremonious thud. Things didn’t seem quite so funny anymore. This page was spotted with lovely three-dimensional hearts containing the initials G.F. + M.M. Below the hearts was a phone number. When Kayla saw the phone number she jerked the pad from Liv’s hands and stared at it hard, her lips forming a tight, thin line, the hearts reflecting dully in Kayla’s glasses.

"Kayla?" Liv had inquired, wondering what was wrong and feeling an unexpected panic well up so quickly from inside her that she’d literally grabbed hold of Kayla and held on tight. "Hey, are you okay?" She’d searched her face. "You don’t look so good."

Without a word, Kayla had gently removed Liv’s hands and pulled her cell phone from her bag. She handed it to Liv. "Go ahead. See for yourself." The words were bitter and Liv found herself caring nothing about the Keith House and everything about the well-being of her partner.

"Kayla, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?"

The tall woman had wrapped her arm around Liv’s slim waist and squeezed gently. "Call the number, Liv," she’d repeated. "Do it."

And Liv had, her eyes flicking back and forth between the phone’s number pad and Kayla’s face. When she finished dialing she brought the phone to her ear and heard the person on the other end of the line answer, "Glen Fuguchi."

At the sight of Liv’s mouth hanging wide open, Kayla sighed and flopped down on the floor, her head in her hands. "Dammit," she’d cursed, in a low voice that sounded every bit as hurt and bewildered as it did angry. "I can’t believe it. She set me up."

After that, they’d locked up the Keith House and come straight home to sit on the windswept beach and talk for several hours. Kayla’s emotions were as raw as Liv had ever seen them, and she felt powerless to help her. It didn’t matter that Kayla had suspected that Glen was up to something with this job. The bottom line was, Kayla considered Glen a friend. And her friend has used her. Badly.

With tears in her eyes, she’d explained to Liv that she could count the number of people she considered more than mere acquaintances on one hand, and that Glen was the only ex-lover who’d ever shown even the slightest bit of interest in remaining friends after the affair had ended. Trust was something Kayla placed a high premium on and rarely felt it in others. This was a painful reminder of why that was.

Liv pressed her forehead against the cool glass as she sleepily regarded the way her lover’s strong profile was outlined by silvery moonlight. I’ve got to do something. I can’t stand watching her brood out there all alone any more. She tossed the blanket off her shoulders and sat at the foot of the bed as she slipped on her sneakers and tied the laces.

Glen, Liv believed, had been right about one thing. Kayla’s reputation was on the line. They could take the information they’d found to the local police, but what then? All they really could prove was that Mary thought Glen was worthy of sharing several neatly drawn hearts with her. Even though Kayla was now certain Glen had been behind the whole thing, they still couldn’t prove that. And what if they could? Who would want to hire Kayla then?

Liv stood and grabbed her jacket, shrugged it on. Taking the blanket in one hand, she quietly crept out of her room and through the house, not wanting to wake any of the other guests or Mrs. Thicke, who she was sure would go to the trouble of fixing them some tea no matter what time it was.

The air was brisk and fresh, and any vestiges of sleepiness disappeared with the ocean breeze as she strode across the quiet beach.

Kayla turned her head when Liv was still several paces behind her. "Why aren’t you sleeping?" she scolded gently.

"Because you aren’t," Liv answered, dropping down onto the blanket in front of Kayla.

"That’s not a good reason."

Liv wrapped the blanket she’d brought out with her first around Kayla then herself, as she sat down between Kayla’s legs and leaned back against her chest. She sighed as long arms closed around her, pulling her closer. Kayla’s chin came to rest on her shoulder. "I don’t need a good or rational reason for anything I do when it concerns you, Kayla." Liv smiled. "I’m in love."

As Liv had hoped it would, that drew a tiny laugh from Kayla, who turned her head and kissed a pink, chilled cheek. "I know exactly how you feel."

Liv patted Kayla’s arm and her eyes turned out to the black ocean. Like the night itself, it was beautiful and scary at the same time.

They sat there for two more hours, sometimes talking, sometimes quiet, and, for Liv at least, sometimes sleeping. Just before dawn, when Liv was feeling utterly safe and content, wrapped tightly in Kayla’s arms, a wicked idea came to her. Lips more often used for smiles of delight and laughter curled into a predatory grin. Tomorrow they would set a trap for Mary MacPherson and Glen Fuguchi. "Only this time, I’m the spider."

Kayla’s heavy eyelids opened a crack and she searched the soft blanket for an eight-legged arachnid. "Huh?" Her eyes moved to the sand. "Where?"

"Never mind, ghostbuster, morning will be soon enough to talk about it."

"Sometimes I have no idea what you’re talking about," Kayla muttered, giving up, at least for the moment, on trying to understand Liv.

Liv chuckled softly. "I know." She pushed to her feet, her butt feeling numb and her muscles sore from the long period of inactivity. "Uff." She extended a hand to Kayla. "C’mon on, let’s go crawl into that nice warm bed with our names on it." Liv looked up into a spectacular blanket of twinkling stars and let out a long breath. The cold night air burned deep in her chest as Kayla’s lanky body popped up alongside her.

They walked in comfortable silence, until Kayla turned and said, "Liv?"

"Hmm?"

"Tonight… I mean, I know you were in bed… and… I want to thank you–"

"Kayla," this time Liv’s smile was full of love, "you don’t have to thank me, honey. That’s what friends do."

Kayla didn’t even try to talk past the lump in her throat. She just squeezed Liv’s hand and continued her trek up the beach, knowing deep in her soul that in a world where it wasn’t really safe to count on much of anything, a few things were written in the stars. Her heart filled with quiet wonder at the sure, solid knowledge that she and Liv were one of them.

"I dunno, Liv." Kayla pulled a thin gray, v-neck sweater over her head. "That’s a long shot with Glen." And I don’t know if I’m that good. She felt Liv, who was clad only in a pair of faded jeans, step up behind her and tug her hair free from her sweater, her small hands lingering there and running lovingly through her hair.

Liv heard Kayla’s comment but didn’t really have an answer, so she stayed quiet. If a long shot was all they had, she’d gladly take it. "Can I braid it today?" she whispered softly in Kayla’s ear, giving the strands of long, thick hair in her hand a tiny tug and smiling when she felt Kayla shiver a little as her breath caressed sensitive skin.

"Sure." Kayla’s voice was dreamy. "You can do whatever you want."

"Wow, a blank check. I’ve always wanted one of those!" Liv laughed and guided Kayla to a stool that stood in front of a small table and mirror. With a gentle push on her shoulders she directed her to sit. She picked up a large, soft-bristled brush from the table and ran it carefully through still damp tresses, stopping every so often to delicately undo a tangle.

Kayla closed her eyes and only barely stopped herself from purring. Despite what she’d learned about Glen yesterday, at this very moment she was far too happy not to share it. Open your mind to me, Liv.

Liv’s mouth shaped a delighted grin as, silently, Kayla’s thoughts eased their way to the forefront of her brain. She consciously relaxed, taking deep slow breaths and continuing the soothing stroking of the brush. One by one, she separated her thoughts from Kayla’s, until, as she’d been recently taught, she could properly focus on them alone. She let out a happy sigh. "Oooo, I love you too, Kayla."

Kayla’s eyes popped open and her eyebrows disappeared behind damp bangs. "You’ve been practicing the relaxation techniques on your own," she accused, privately pleased that Liv had taken the initiative in an area where she knew her partner was leery and perhaps even a little frightened.

"Uh huh." The admission came with another grin. "But I think I would have heard the words anyway, they were so clear."

Kayla shook her head in amazement. "You’re years ahead of where I was when I first started to figure out my abilities." She had no doubt that, while she had always struggled to pick out individual words from general impressions, someday Liv would be able to do that with little effort. The blonde woman was truly gifted. Though so far she had only been able to experience a telepathic connection with Kayla. Just the way that Kayla had only experienced emotions, along with the typical mental impressions that were part and parcel of her telepathy, when she was with Liv. She wondered idly, if, in time, that would change.

"I’m working with a good teacher."

"True," Kayla quipped without a trace of modesty. "Ouch!" Her hand flew to her shoulder where she’d just received a light swat the brush. She glared playfully into the mirror, trying not to smile at Liv’s look of faux-innocence. "You’re lucky I don’t mind frisky women."

"I’ll show you frisky–" Liv’s hand flew to her belly, when a loud grumbling sound interrupted her. I should be embarrassed. But it’s so cool that I’m not.

Turning her head to the side, Kayla reached behind her, and drew Liv to her ear, pressing her cheek against the soft warm skin just above breasts. "I think I’ve discovered what’s haunting the Keith House." She dropped her already deep voice an octave. Sounding like a television announcer, she said, "‘Revenge of the Killer Tapeworm—If She’d Had Ketchup The Entire City Would Have Perished.’" Her head moved up and down as Liv laughed.

"Very funny, Kayla. Just feed me soon or I’ll be forced to become a Twinkie ho and sell my body in front of convenience stores."

"A Twinkie ho?"

"I’m sorry, but I just can’t hide it from you any longer. I’m addicted. I’m a slave to the tasty lard-and-sugar filling. I used to have Dougie mail them to me in Africa. I wouldn’t ho myself for vegetables or anything, Kayla," she told her haughtily. "I have my standards."

"I can see that." Kayla nodded. While not as ravenous as her partner, she was pretty hungry herself. They’d stayed up until nearly dawn and then slept later that they’d intended. It was nearly 11 AM. "I think we can do a little better than Twinkies though." She smiled at Liv’s indignant gasp. "Okay, maybe not much better. But a little."

The women had missed breakfast again, but today they’d found a note from Mrs. Thicke on a tray outside their bedroom door, saying she’d made egg sandwiches out of their breakfast, and that they were waiting for them in paper bags in the refrigerator downstairs. Mrs. Thicke’s note had also reminded Liv about stopping at a grocery store before they left Portobello. She’d said something mysterious to Kayla about not taking any chances and roughage.

Bewildered, Kayla had just nodded amiably, correctly figuring that sometimes in a relationship she was expected to just shut up and go along with whatever Liv asked. Were men ever this confused? She suspected so. And now she understood. But if the price for being in love was broccoli or an oat bran muffin, well, she would deal with it somehow. Slathering enough peanut butter onto something generally covered up most of the taste.

"Kayla?"

"Yeah?"

Their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection.

"What we’re going to do tonight is really rotten, isn’t it?"

Kayla nodded very slowly. "Oh, yeah."

A pale eyebrow along with the corner of Liv’s mouth quirked. "Good."

***

A gusty wind blew outside the Keith House and fat raindrops pelted it, the sound amplified because the house sat empty and quiet. Kayla peered out at the front sidewalk from a small window near the entryway. Lightning pierced the sky in jagged streaks and thunder boomed sporadically overhead. Oh, yeah. She smiled.

A key slid into the lock and turned, but the door wouldn’t open. DING DONG. DING DONG. DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG.

Kayla padded over to the front door and called out in an amused voice, "Who iiiiiiis it?"

BANG BANG BANG! The door shook in its frame. "God dammit, Kayla! I’m getting soaked. You know who it is!"

Kayla leaned against the back of the door and crossed her long legs at the ankle. "Did you lose your key or something?"

"LET ME IN!"

"Get a grip. It’s only water," Kayla mumbled. With exaggerated slowness she pushed off of the door and turned to throw open the deadbolt. She stumbled backwards as the door flew open, nearly hitting her. "Why, hello, Glen. I didn’t know it was you."

Glen smoothed back her wet hair and shook the lapels of her black London Fog raincoat as Kayla pushed the door closed. She didn’t like looking foolish and right now she knew that’s exactly how she looked. The storm outside was worsening and her taxi had already driven away. She was just glad to be in out of the pouring rain. "Of course you didn’t know it was me." She set her briefcase down near the wall. "You only called me and told me to get down here right this very second! I hope it’s because you’re ready with your report. I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Keith later tonight." She made a face as she scanned the foyer. "God, I hate Gothic. So depressing." She peered around Kayla. "Where is–?" Glen made a vague gesture with her hand. "You know."

"Shut the fuck up," Kayla snapped, all traces of her former good humor gone. "I’m not in the mood to deal with you being a bitch tonight."

"I could say the same thing about you." Glen ran her hand down the front of her suit, indicating how soaked she was. "Don’t tell me your linguist dumped you already? Whatever will you do without a cute All-American girl to hold your equipment for you?" Glen sighed dramatically. "It must be difficult finding someone who appreciates your… unique talents and your penchant for drafty old houses." She kept her voice light but knew the stinging words had hit their mark by the subtle shifting of Kayla’s jaw muscles and cooling of sky-blue eyes.

"That’s enough."

"Does she know about your trust fund, Kayla?" She smiled when suddenly Kayla couldn’t meet her gaze. "Ah, I can see that she doesn’t. Why ever not? That is something a girl likes to know. It can make up for a lot." Too bad I’m not willing to wait five years for you to get it. "It will soften all the times you won’t call because you’re too wrapped up in work to bother." She began ticking points off on her fingers. "Or when you’ll forget to eat or sleep and be a total grouch because of it. Or–"

"Enough!" Kayla’s temper snapped as Glen skillfully pushed all her buttons, making her feel raw and exposed. "She didn’t dump me," she ground out. "We had a little…" Her dark head shook as she searched for the right words. "A difference of opinion is all. If you must know, she went back to the Bed & Breakfast. Which is fine with me because I still had some work to do."

"Pity," Glen said tonelessly, holding out her hand.

A loud boom of thunder shook the house and Kayla felt a nervous ball of fear form in the pit of her stomach. She recognized its source immediately. It’ll be okay, Liv. She projected the words with all her might, completely tuning out Glen. Hang in there. It’s just a storm, nothing to be frightened of.

"Do you have my report or not?"

Kayla’s whole demeanor changed and she looked down at Glen seriously. "That’s what I wanted to talk to you about."

When Kayla paused and glance around, Glen couldn’t help but notice the unsettled look that flitted across her face. The fight with the girlfriend? She studied her carefully, using the many years she’d known Kayla as her frame of reference. No, it’s something else. What she saw was a good dose of nervousness and… fear? Whatever was going on with her had to be serious. It was more than Kayla being angry with her for pushing this case through. Maybe she’d gone too far with the comment about her trust fund.

"There’s something you should know and you’re not going to like it."

Now Glen was worried. She laid a hand on Kayla’s arm, truly concerned. "What’s wrong?"

Kayla bit her lip and fought hard not to jerk her arm away. She could feel the coolness of Glen’s hands through her thin sweater, and her touch, knowing about her betrayal as a friend, repulsed her. "I… Well, I think it’s better if you see for this for yourself."

An earsplitting clap of thunder boomed and Glen looked longingly towards the door. "No, thank you. I’m in a hurry, Kayla." I need to be out of here. A lovely bar maybe, with lots of laughing people and strong drinks. Not that she planned on talking to a soul. She craved the comforting sound of people chattering away and not the thunder and pouring rain. Glen lifted her chin a little, determined not to show her discomfort.

"Just say whatever it is you have to say, and give me my report so I can be on my way. Your fee will be deposited in your account by noon tomorrow. Consider this job over. I’ll contact you again soon for more work."

Kayla shook her head slowly. "You don’t understand, Glen. There is something wrong with this house. Very wrong."

Glen put her hands on her hips. "The only thing wrong with this house is that I’m still in it."

A crackling bolt of lightning shot across the sky, followed instantly by tremendous boom.

The house went black.

"And the lights don’t work," Glen continued, trying unsuccessfully to defuse the tension that now filled the air.

Kayla didn’t laugh.

It was so dark that Glen could only see Kayla in the occasional flash of lightning. She heard soft footsteps. Why is she way over there? Kayla was now standing across the room in the doorway of the foyer with a grim look marring her beautiful face.

The tall woman glanced at Glen, her eyes shining silver in a bright burst of light. "Don’t you feel it?" The room went black again and Kayla disappeared back into the inky darkness. She traveled out of the foyer and into another room.

Glen moved closer to Kayla’s voice, telling herself that that was her shadow she could see moving. "F-feel what?" the Japanese woman groaned in frustration.

"How cold it is," Kayla answered quietly. "I have goosebumps, don’t you?"

Glen shivered and unconsciously dropped her tone to match Kayla’s. "I’m soaked to the bone, of course I’m cold!"

Kayla didn’t answer and Glen felt another, stronger chill chase down her spine. This is preposterous, she told herself disgustedly. I’m scaring myself. I will not be frightened of an empty old house.

"It’s not your wet clothes. I’ve felt it and so has Liv," Kayla finally said. "It’s a… a presence. It feels like something brushing lightly over your skin, doesn’t it? Not like wind, but like fingers or a cool breath from lips barely touching you."

Unseen in the darkness, Glen’s eyes widened.

"I think it has something to do with the blood that Mr. Keith saw pouring down the wall." Silently Kayla moved right alongside Glen and whispered in her ear. "What if it’s dangerous?"

She couldn’t see the other woman and the words seem to come from thin air. Glen snorted incredulously but felt her unease growing with every passing second. "You’ve finally lost your mind, Kayla." But her voice betrayed her doubt.

"You know I know what I’m talking about, Glen. You’ve always been a skeptic. I know that. But you know me, know how rarely I’ve been wrong about these things. You trust and believe me, don’t you?" The words left a bitter taste in Kayla’s mouth. She found small comfort in the fact that she really did believe there was a supernatural presence in this house.

Glen didn’t know what to say. She did know Kayla. Part of her was absolutely certain that Kayla was a perfectionist and was, admittedly, an expert in her field. But no matter what she said, the blood on the walls was nothing more than a trick. She knew that with even more certainty.

Then she felt it again. It was as tangible as her own heartbeat. Light as a feather, a touch traveled from her jaw to her throat to her arm. She slapped at her arm. "That’s it. I’m leaving! You can drop the report at my hotel when you come to your senses." She turned around and marched over to what she thought was the door, then adjusted her path when a flash of lighting outlined the dark wooden panel. She reached for the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. "Kayla, is this some sort of joke?" She pulled harder on the door, shaking it. Her hand shot up to the deadbolt and she turned it, checking to see that it as open. It was. "Shit!"

"Glen?"

An eerie voice called her name from the stairway. It was not Kayla. The low whisper repeated, drawing out the word. "Gleeennnnn."

Glen swallowed hard. "Kayla?" Her eyes darted wildly as she strained to see through the darkness. "Kayla, where are you?"

She was greeted with a stone-cold silence.

"That’s it. This isn’t funny. I’m calling the police and they can break down this door." Glen reached for her briefcase to retrieve her cell phone, but it was gone.

"Glen," the whisper had moved across the room. "Gleeennnn."

"Who are you?" Glen cried, dropping to her knees to search for her briefcase. The wooden floor was cold and hard against her skin and she knew she’d torn her pantyhose. A hand squeezed her shoulder and Glen screamed.

"Glen! What the hell is wrong with you?" This time it was Kayla.

"Kayla?" Glen could hardly hear her over the pounding of her heart.

Kayla helped her to her feet. "Of course it’s me. You took off and I couldn’t see you. I thought you’d left until I heard you call my name."

"I-I am leaving." I am. Glen rubbed her temples, pushing hard. "Why were you whispering to me? That wasn’t funny."

"Whispering?" Kayla’s brow creased. "Why would I be whispering to you? I thought you’d gone, remember?"

"I can’t get out." Glen’s emotions were starting to get the better of her and her panic was rising fast, calmed only by Kayla’s presence. "The door’s locked. Try it."

Kayla did. "Is this locked from the outside? How did–?"

"My briefcase," Glen interrupted anxiously. "What did you do with it?"

"I never touched it. I saw you set it down when you came in. It’s on the floor." But when Kayla began feeling around she couldn’t find it. "It was right here. I–" She stopped talking and until the silence between them grew thunderous. "I think we should call the police, Glen."

The new urgency in Kayla’s voice sent Glen’s pulse racing again. "Yes. Yes. Okay," she babbled. "Oh, no. My phone is in the briefcase!"

"Gleeennnn." The whisper had returned.

Glen’s eyes went round as twin moons. "Don’t you hear that?"

"You need to calm down," Kayla reached for Glen again, and the smaller woman nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected contact. Kayla had barely touched her when they were lovers and never since. "Relax."

"Don’t touch me!" Glen could taste salt on her lips from a cold sweat.

"Gleeennnnn."

"You can’t tell me you don’t you hear that. It’s clear as day." She moved closer to Kayla, wanting some sort of contact so long as she was the one initiating it. That was safe.

"Hear what?"

"My name!" Her breath was coming in short pants. "Listen for Christ’s sake!"

The whisper had changed locations again. "Gleeennnn."

"Oh, God. Oh, God, there it is again. See?" She whirled around and began tugging violently on the doorknob. "The voice is moving. I think it’s coming closer. Why can’t you hear it?" Tears welled in her eyes and she started to shake.

Kayla grabbed Glen by the shoulders and spun her back around so that they were facing each other again. "I don’t know what you’re talking about or what’s happening to you, but we need to call the police so we can get out of this house. My phone is in my backpack upstairs. I’ll go get it and be right back. You can wait–"

A loud boom of thunder interrupted Kayla, cutting through the sound of the pouring rain and howling wind like a knife through hot butter.

Glen shook her head, causing her black, wet hair to stick to her cheeks and neck. "You’re not leaving me alone, Kayla Redding. Not for one second!"

"But–"

"No buts. Let’s go now."

"All right."

Glen reached out to take Kayla’s hand but she was already several steps in front of her. "Dammit! Wait!" She could hear Kayla’s footsteps but she couldn’t seem to catch up to her and make physical contact. "Kayla? Kayla!"

"Yes?" Kayla said softly, feeling for the banister railing as she quietly ascended the stairs.

"I-I-I…" Glen didn’t really have anything to say. She’d only wanted to hear Kayla’s voice and reassure herself that she wasn’t alone. "What room are we going to?"

Glen reached the top of the stairs. Somehow the rain seemed louder there, and she squinted as she turned a corner to a long hallway and tried to catch sight of the other woman. "Kayla?"

Silence.

"Not again!" Glen brought shaking hands to her face. "Calm down." You’re just being silly and imagining things. There’s nothing haunted about this place. You know that, even if she doesn’t. Kayla is just being dramatic. But that thought stopped her dead in her tracks. Kayla dramatic? That would require creativity and imagination and Glen was certain those were two qualities that Kayla didn’t possess at all. Hesitantly, she began walking forward, running her fingertips along the wall to help guide her as she moved. Rooms lined both sides of the passage and she listened carefully at each open doorway, hoping to find which one Kayla had stepped inside. She flipped another light switch but nothing happened.

"Gleeennnn."

"Is that you, Kayla?" Glen whispered harshly. She knew deep down it wasn’t and her stomach twisted painfully.

"Gleeennnn," the whisper persisted.

"Shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone!" The small woman speeded up her pace.

A bedroom door behind her slammed shut and she jumped. She whirled around and tried to see what had happening, but it was too dark.

"Gleeennnn. Gleeennnn." The whisper was growing louder and angrier and another door slammed, then another, with the sounds coming closer and closer.

Glen let out a bloodcurdling scream and her hands flew to her ears to block out the loud sounds. It’s coming for me!

A pair of hands reached out of the darkness and snatched her out of the hallway into one of the rooms.

Glen screamed so loud her throat felt like it was fire and she began thrashing wildly.

"Glen! Stop!" Kayla wrestled with the distraught woman, working to calm her. "It’s me! It’s Kayla."

Glen’s frantic movements slowed and she grasped hold of Kayla’s sweater, clinging to her. "Kayla?" She began to cry.

"Yes," she said softly. "It’s me and I have something to show you. Proof of what I was saying."

"I don’t need proof. We need to get out of here! Something is coming."

"Something is already here," Kayla said gravely. She pulled Glen over to the wall. "Look."

"It’s too dark. I–"

Kayla’s grabbed Glen’s hand and pressed it against the wall.

Glen’s heart stopped when she felt thick, sticky liquid flow hotly over her fingers. "No. It can’t be."

"Gleeennnn." The whisper was now in doorway of the room.

"It’s blood," Kayla told her right in her ear. "Blood." Just then a flash of lightning illuminated the Keith House’s master bedroom and the wall where Glen’s hand was pressed. It was awash with dark, crimson blood.

"No!" Glen screamed, wrenching her hand away from Kayla’s grasp. She ran to the corner of the room and slid down the wall to the floor, sobbing hysterically. She wrapped her arms around herself and the blood on them dripped into her coat sleeve and trickled down her forearm.

"Gleeennnn."

"Shut up! You can’t be real." She began rocking back and forth.

"It is real!" Kayla shouted.

"It’s not!"

"It is!"

"NO! Don’t you see, it can’t be! I made it all up." Glen’s sobbing intensified. "It’s a trick. I hired Mary to do it. It’s a trick. It’s not real!" Her face crumpled. "It’s not! It’s not!"

A bright light suddenly flared in the doorway.

Glen screamed and covered her eyes with one hand, temporarily blinded. A few seconds later, when she removed her hand, her red-rimmed eyes flicked past Kayla, who was looking down at her boots, to find a dripping wet, young man wearing a kilt and overcoat and a very self-satisfied smile. Next to him stood Mr. Keith with a mini tape recorder in one hand and his cane in the other. Finally, there was Liv, holding a large flashlight with the beam pointed at the ceiling, her white-socked feet drawing Glen’s attention.

Liv padded over to Kayla wrapped her in a big hug, lingering there long enough to whisper something in her ear. Glen watched dazedly as Kayla nodded, whispered something back to Liv and returned the embrace. A few heartbeats then Kayla pulled away, but not before tenderly kissing Liv’s cheek.

With a gentle pat to Kayla’s side, Liv shifted her focus to Glen and slowly crossed the room.

Glen was still shaky and confused, trying to process what had happened, when Liv crouched down in front of her and waited until frightened eyes lifted to hers and held her steely gaze. She spoke in a gentle but firm voice. "Your briefcase is in the study next door and I think you owe Kayla an apology."

Glen’s mouth dropped open.

Liv leaned a little closer and whispered, "Kayla cared about you, and your little scheme really hurt her." She let the words sink in for a moment before the Southerner in her took over and her light Virginia accent unconsciously intensified, becoming nearly as pronounced as Kayla’s. "You should really thank her after you apologize." She felt a rush of protectiveness for her lover and she narrowed her eyes at Glen, barely resisting lashing out at her for hurting Kayla. "It was because of her that I went to all this trouble." Then Liv’s expression cleared and her lips curled into a deceptively sweet smile. She put her hand on her knees and pushed to her feet, holding her hand out to Glen. "I would have just kicked your lyin’ ass."

***

Kayla sat up in bed, her back against the headboard, as she watched Liv getting ready for bed. As a little girl she’d seen her mother go through the same routine and she smiled, wondering idly why it wasn’t one she shared.

Liv was sitting on the stool in front of the mirror, wearing a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt. She’d bought the pajama pants here in Edinburgh, declaring it too cold to be running around in shorts, her usual sleep attire, or her birthday suit, which was fast becoming the norm with Kayla. She ran the brush through her hair for the final time and set it down on the small table in front of her. By rote she removed the studs from her ears and unclasped a small gold chain she wore around her wrist. Then she picked up a tube of fragrant lotion and liberally applied it to her cheeks and neck, softly rubbing it in until it disappeared against smooth skin. She repeated the process with her elbows and hands, finally catching a glimpse of a smiling Kayla in the mirror. Liv smiled back. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh. It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you were thinking about something pretty hard."

"I wasn’t." Kayla shrugged one shoulder. "I was just watching you is all."

"Oh," Liv replied, suddenly a little shy. "I like watching you too." She set the lotion down on the table and clicked off the small tiffany lamp below the mirror, casting the room in long shadow. The storm had moved out over the sea and the sky was only occasionally lit with a flash of lightning and the gentle rumble of far off thunder. She slipped into bed alongside Kayla, joining her against the headboard and pulling the sheet and comforter up to her waist.

"Mmm." Kayla sighed. "You smell like flowers and sunshine."

Liv laughed delightedly. "I didn’t know sunshine had a smell."

"Oh, it does," Kayla drawled emphatically, leaning closer to Liv and kissing the top of her head. "Because I said so."

Liv wrapped her fingers around Kayla’s hand and cradled it in her lap. "Can you believe the timing of that storm tonight?" She shook her head. "Perfect. It was perfect. I think it’s the only time in my life I was happy to see one."

"Mmm… Hmm… Nothing like a little thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour to make a place look spooky."

"True." Liv scooted down the bed and adjusted her pillow so that she was lying flat and it was cushioning her head as Kayla did the same thing next to her. "I heard you, you know."

Kayla let her eyelids drift shut. "Heard me?" she murmured.

"Telling me that everything would be okay, during the storm."

Kayla’s eyebrows jumped but somehow her eyes remained closed. "Wow. All the way upstairs?"

"Yeah." She giggled quietly. "Having you pop into my head when I wasn’t expecting it nearly caused me to wet my pants."

The brunette chuckled softly and rolled onto her side so she could see her partner’s face. She traced Liv’s cheek with her fingertips. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be." Liv smiled at her fondly. "It helped. That thunder was starting to freak me out again."

Kayla was silent for so long that Liv wondered if she’d fallen asleep. "Kayla," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

The tall woman had to swallow a few times before answering. This was the first time in her entire life her ability had helped someone she loved. She’d helped the scientists in college who’d treated her like a lab rat with their own research. Unwittingly, she’d allowed her ability to feed Glen’s greed. She’d even helped total strangers a time or two. But this made her heart hurt with pleasure. She was truly speechless. "Yeah," she finally croaked softly, deciding not to try and explain her feelings right now. "I’m fantastic."

Liv blinked. "Well, okay," she answered slowly, not sure why Kayla was suddenly so chipper. "I’m glad you’re happy."

Kayla chuckled softly. "God, that horrible voice calling Glen’s name was awesome."

"That was me sneaking around in my socks, using my hangover voice."

"Remind me not to let you drink too much."

"I will."

"The locked door?"

"Brody standing out in the pouring rain. I knew she’d bolt eventually."

"Mmm."

Liv yawned. "But you slamming those doors, one after the other. That was the best. That scared me. I wasn’t expecting it at all. How did you manage to get behind Glen in the hallway?" she asked interestedly.

Oh, boy. "I didn’t, Liv."

"Kayla?"

"Yeah?"

"Don’t say shit like that." Liv began smacking the darker woman, who burst out laughing.

"Ouch! Ouch!" She tried to defend herself against Liv’s vicious attack with little success.

"I mean it!" Smack. Smack. "That’s creepy!"

"Okay, okay. I was just joking, I did manage to get around behind her." Not.

Liv’s hands stilled. "You’re lying aren’t you?"

"Yes."

"Well, don’t start telling the truth now!" She began hitting her again.

Kayla tried to grab Liv’s flying hands but they were too quick. "All right, I’m not lying!" She dissolved into laughter again.

"Thank you. Jeeze, keep your freakin’ stories straight. How can I believe you when you’re lying for my own good if you confess immediately?"

"You won’t?"

"Exactly."

"Liv?"

"Don’t talk about it."

"Bu–"

"Not a damn word, Kayla."

"Fine," Kayla groused.

A light rain still pelted the window but its rhythm was soothing and constant and both women felt their eyelids growing heavier as the gentle patter cast a lethargic spell over them.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t get Mr. Keith to let you continue researching the house." Liv’s voice was so hushed Kayla almost missed it. "I tried my best."

Kayla lazily slid her hand beneath Liv’s t-shirt and let it rest against the warm soft skin just below her partner’s ribs. "Your best was more than good enough. He was a lot nicer about the whole thing than I would have been. I don’t know how you managed it, but somehow I think everything is going to work out."

After a long very private conversation with Liv, where Glen and Mary’s actions had been explained to the old Scot, Robert Keith had agreed not to file charges against Kayla or go to the press about what had happened. But no amount of cajoling could convince the man to let Kayla continue studying the house. He’d informed the women blithely that whatever restless spirit dwelled there now had likely been there for hundreds of years, and as long as he, she, or it wasn’t the cause of the blood on the wall, his guests could live with getting an unexpected chill every now and again. This was, after all, Edinburgh.

Refusing any payment, Brody had agreed to watch Glen until morning when he and Mr. Keith could accompany her to the First Bank of Scotland where she would execute an intrabank transfer of every red cent she had. Mr. Keith would be refunded Kayla’s fee plus interest, and the remaining funds would be deposited into a new account in Kayla’s name where they would stay until Glen’s books could be fully audited. Not that it mattered. Kayla had already decided to simply refund every client she’d had in the past two years out of that account.

When Kayla had told Glen what was going to happen, the Japanese woman had nearly had a stroke. Liv had come to the rescue again, gleefully explaining that, if Glen didn’t agree to the money transfer, Mr. Keith would be more than happy to contact the authorities, and not only would she end up penniless but she would also be afraid to bend over and pick up a bar of soap for the next three to five years.

Kayla had burst out laughing, but Glen had had no earthly idea what Liv was talking about and the blonde woman had taken great pleasure explaining it. In detail. Twice. Kayla smiled just remembering it. God, even Brody blushed!

As for Mary MacPherson, Mr. Keith assured Kayla that simply telling her mother would be more than enough punishment. The old man had literally shivered at the prospect of what his former maid would do to her wayward daughter. Kayla suspected that he had just enough of a soft spot for Mary not to want to see her in jail, but not so much that he was going to let her off the hook completely, which was fine by her. Kayla found herself wanting to go home to Virginia in the worst way. She could visit her sister Marcy again and she knew Liv would love to spend more time with Doug. She could also give the history they’d found on Cobb Island the study it deserved, but mostly she needed to regroup.

"Liv, I know we talked about this already, but–"

A sigh. Not again.

"But don’t you think it’s wrong that Glen won’t be punished." Mary was one thing, but Glen had been the brains behind the whole thing.

"Yes and no." Liv rolled to over face Kayla. She propped herself up on one elbow and rested her head on her hand. "If she gets exposed your career could be over."

Kayla’s brow furrowed. "But–" Her speech was cut off as two fingers landed on her lips, and stayed there.

"It’s not worth it, Kayla. People will get their money back and you won’t get hurt." Even in the shadows she could see Kayla’s eyes flash. "Please," she said quickly. God, we’ve been over this a hundred times already. She tried another tact. "If not for you, how about for me? I just started down this particular path with you. I’m not ready to get off it quickly."

Kayla let out an explosive breath and Liv knew she’d won. She removed her fingers from Kayla’s soft lips and replaced them with her mouth.

The kiss went on for long, charged moments, neither woman wanting to stop. Finally, breathing raggedly, Liv pulled away just enough to glance down at herself. Kayla had slid one hand inside her pajama pants and it was firmly kneading her bottom, while Kayla’s other hand was under her shirt caressing a very grateful breast. No wonder I’m having so much fun. "God, wouldn’t this be better without all these clothes?" Liv said thickly, already working her way out of her t-shirt.

"Well, yes," Kayla, who was blissfully nude, agreed, "but you’re the one who–"

"What do I know?" Liv’s pajamas sailed across the room.

"You do get cold in the mor–"

Liv pushed Kayla onto her back and laid fully atop her, their legs easily tangling together.

The younger woman moaned softly at the sensual contact, her previous thoughts whisked away by the erotic onslaught of soft breasts pressing snugly against hers. Moist golden curls tickled her lower abdomen, and the musky scent of Liv’s arousal called to her with a song so powerful it put the Sirens to shame.

Liv looked down into Kayla’s eyes and innocently asked, "Do you think you’ll have trouble keeping me warm? Do you think you can handle that, ghostbuster? Do you?" she taunted with nearly diabolical glee.

A low rumbling growl was her answer and she half-gasped, half-squealed as Kayla picked up the gauntlet and their positions were reversed before she could blink.

"I can handle it, Olivia." Kayla’s husky voice sent a thrill through Liv and her mouth went as dry as cotton candy. "The question is…" A flash of white teeth. "Can you?"

Liv’s heart hammered in her chest. "I-I’m not sure, Kayla," she answered honestly, seeing the passionate glint in her lover’s eyes. She smiled. "But I’m willing to die trying."

The sheets and blankets lay cold and forgotten for most of the night.

***

ay yes

aye always

auld old

bairn child

bonnie, bonny beautiful

brae hill

close courtyard; entry or alley

faither father

fash yersel to worry yourself

gab talk

lad, laddie boy

lass, lassie girl

mither mother

nicht night

och! an all-purpose exclamation

sassenach English person; foreigner

sporran leather pouch

suin soon

wee little, small

weel well

wi’ with

yersels yourself

I love you. Tha gaol agam ort.

Shut your mouth. Haud yer wheesht.

Continued

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