The moment I did, I was hit by a whirl of energy. It spun around me like a cat chasing its tail. I reached out to steady myself on the doorway. Looking around cautiously, I caught my breath as a pen rose up on the desk opposite the door and began spinning in the air. It suddenly stopped, then came hurtling my way, point first.
I ducked and the pen hit the wall with such a force that it embedded itself up to the clip.
“Well, that’s a direct message, I’d say.”
“Hell, the landlord’s going to kill me,” Tyra muttered, staring at the pen lodged in the drywall.
“Better him than this thing,” I muttered. Without glancing back at her, I said, “You wait outside. Let me take a look around.”
“With pleasure,” she said, ducking back out the door.
I eased my way into the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the energy.
Ghosts and poltergeists, when they weren’t visible, almost always left an energy signature that I could follow to find out where they were hiding. But this seemed everywhere, like an octopus reaching out with multiple arms. Frowning, I crossed the room. By now, several books were spinning in the air, but so far the pen had been the only thing that had been sent hurtling my way.
I reached the archway that led to the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom. The air was so thick I could have cut it with a blade, and I glanced up to see a trap door on the ceiling. As I watched, it slowly opened by itself, the dark maw gaping over my head. I could see a string that would pull down the stairs, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I decided to try the less intrusive way first. If I could get it talking to me, I might be able to figure out what I was dealing with.
No answer came, but as my words broke the silence, there was a crash in the bathroom directly in front of me. The door was open and I could see that the vanity mirror had shattered, the shards of glass scattered all over the counter and floor. A hairbrush spun into the air and came sailing out, directly toward my head. I ducked and it landed on the floor behind me.
“I’m giving you one more chance,” I said. “Who the hell are you and what do you want? Why are you bothering Tyra?”
The bathroom door slammed shut, then opened, then shut again. I stared at it for a moment, then back up at the attic. There was something there—I could feel it watching me. It wanted me to come up, probably to attack me. Or maybe…not.
I turned and headed back to the front door. Peeking out, I saw Tyra sitting on the porch swing. I joined her.
“The attic—what do you use it for?”
She shrugged. “Not much, or at least, not till lately. I recently decided to fix it up and turn it into a craft room. There’s enough space up there, and a window that can open, so I’ll put in a small AC unit. The attic is finished, so it’s not just a bunch of rafters.”
“And was there anything up there? Anything that wasn’t yours?”
She frowned. “Now that you mention it, yeah. There were two old trunks and a bureau. I decided to leave the bureau and use it for supplies. The trunks, I had a friend carry down for me. They’re in the kitchen. I was going to get rid of them. They’re pretty beat up.”
“Do you know what’s in them?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t had the chance to look. And there are padlocks on them that I can’t open. They’re too big to break.”
I smiled. I had the answer for that. I brought out my phone and texted my friend Trinity.
hey, trin, can you meet me at a client’s house? she has either a poltergeist or a ghost, and i think it’s connected to two trunks she found in the attic. they’re padlocked and there isn’t a key. could you drop over and open them for us?
Trinity was known as the Keeper of Keys. He could open or close just about any lock he came across. He was also a gorgeous sloe-eyed goth boy, who was part Ante-Fae, part incubus. He was dark and a little twisted, but he had helped save my life and we had become good friends, even though a number of my friends were wary of him. Trinity’s father was Maximus, a minor lord of the incubi, who had assaulted his mother, Deeantha, the Rainbow Runner—one of the Ante-Fae. The result had been Trinity, and neither his mother nor father wanted him around.
be glad to help. give me the address.
i’ll text it to you.
I paused, looking over at Tyra. “Do you mind if I ask a friend to come over? He can help us with those trunks.”
“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Tyra said.
Thinking that she really should ask more questions before opening herself up like that, I texted Trinity the address. He responded that he would be over in about twenty minutes.
“Until he gets here, let’s just wait outside,” I said, shivering. It was still drizzling, but the clouds were beginning to lighten and patches of blue were shining through. We’d get our clearing after all.
“I’m good with that,” she said. “What do you think it is?”
“Either a poltergeist or a ghost, but I think we need to look in those trunks first before I can make a final call. If the activity started when you moved them, then it could be a ghost who is attached to something in one of them. That often happens with old houses. A spirit will be attached to either an object, or the house itself. If you move that object or you start renovations, it can stir up a lot of activity.” I leaned back on the swing as a breeze skittered past, bringing with it the scent of the rain-washed firs and cedars around the neighborhood. It was in the mid-sixties, but it still felt cool, even when the sun was out.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“Two years. I never used the attic before, though, so I’m pretty sure that something is amiss there. I called my landlord to tell him what was going on and he said that the woman who owned the house before he did died here, and that apparently she was a territorial old coot. You know, the You kids get off my lawn type.” She shrugged. “Maybe I woke her up and she’s decided that it’s still her house?”
That could easily be the case. I had encountered a number of ghosts who were pissed off that somebody else was using their stuff or living in what had been their house. They couldn’t let go, and resented the living.
“What was her name? Do you know?”
The breeze stiffened, blowing a waft of smoke past us. Somebody had their woodstove going and the smell of burning wood made me feel cozy.
“Denise, I think.” She frowned, then nodded. “Yes, it was Denise. I can’t remember her last name, though.”
“That’s fine. You stay out here and wait for Trinity. I’m going to check out the attic.”
I gathered my things and returned to the house. The ladder leading to the attic was down now, so I cautiously approached it, but nothing happened. I could hear things slamming around in the kitchen now, so apparently whatever was haunting this house was taking out their frustrations on the dishes. I had the feeling Tyra would be buying a new set after I had taken care of the problem.
The folding steps leading to the attic were easy enough to climb. I pulled out a flashlight and headed up, hoping for a light switch at the top. As I entered the attic, I found one, directly to the left on the wall. I flipped it on and stepped into the room.