Dash stared at the empty space and shook his head. “Do you think they’ll ever figure it out?”
At the rate they were going, not before he and Dash were ghosts themselves. “I think we’ll need to push them together if we want them to acknowledge what we see so clearly.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Chapter Five
Slate was testing the motion sensors in the haunted house’s main corridor when the familiar prickle along his spine announced incoming spirits. They materialized at the foot of the staircase. Three of them. No one explained how it had happened, but for the past ten days, Cain had inserted himself into Thomas and Oliver’s affairs much more frequently. Slate was curious, but he didn’t push for details.
Oliver pulled the small notebook Thomas had taught him to create from his pocket and flipped the pages. Slate had learned a lot of new things about ghosts and their abilities. Creating tangible objects that had staying power was new. Cain stretched his arms over his head and inhaled deeply. That raised yet another topic he wanted to talk to Dash’s grandfather about. Cain had been dead far longer than he’d been alive, so when would he cast off his ‘living’ habits such as breathing?
“Man, Ollie, you have some seriously rad organizational talent,” Cain said, seemingly oblivious to his new friends’ reactions. “I can barely remember how to get to different places, and you’re cataloging ten different details about every new ghost we meet.”
Oliver went rigid, his hands smoothing his waistcoat as he glanced at Thomas. Thomas avoided eye contact, but was clearly uncomfortable. “Thank you… I think. I want the information we give to Slate and Dash to be accurate.”
“No doubt, man,” Cain continued, completely missing his friends’ discomfort. “You and Tommy are a smooth operation. I’m totally jealous.”
Thomas stared at the wall as if the pattern of the paper was the most fascinating thing ever. Slate knew he should end the awkwardness, but he didn’t know how. If Thomas and Oliver were clueless, Cain was utterly oblivious.
“Sherlock Holmes and Watson are back,” Dash said, arriving from the kitchen. “And who is this? Inspector Lestrade?”
“Whoa, man!” Cain’s eyes widened. “I read those books when we had downtime in ‘Nam. I always thought I’d be a good Watson, not that stuffy inspector.”
Slate blinked in surprise. Cain didn’t talk about his life, only his afterlife. Finding out he read the classics was a shock. “I think Dash would be the best Lestrade. He’s the most analytical in the bunch.”
It might not have been his intention to deflect, but Dash had done a great job of moving them off the awkward moment. “What did you three find out today?”
“We encountered two new ghosts today.” Oliver flipped through his book. “I counted seventeen new arrivals in the past week.”
That was better than the swarm that arrived in the first few days, but he wished they’d stop coming. “Is Gary still calling for more ghosts to show up?”
“Not exactly, but the word is still spreading,” Thomas said. “From what Cain and other ghosts have told us, Gary and many of those that came to Oriskany Falls hang out around the Woodstock site about two hours from here. Once they decidedthis was a good place to party, everyone spread the word. We’ve met spirits from Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, even one from Burlington, Vermont.”
This wasn’t what Slate wanted to hear. Gary announcing it to the winds was still one voice. Everyone telling their friends was an avalanche about to drop. “Are they saying anything about Gary’s plans?”
Thomas and Oliver exchanged one of their silent looks—a quick glance that gave Slate a chill. Oliver nodded almost imperceptibly.
“He’s telling everyone this will be an annual celebration,” Thomas said. “Gary says Oriskany Falls will become a permanent Halloween gathering place for spirits.”
“The area where Gary and most of his friends are from is mostly a field,” Oliver said, reading from his notes. “The town is small, so they’re all crowded around each other.”
“Oh yeah, man.” Cain perked up. “There’s like no privacy. This place is like heaven. Plenty of places you can be alone with someone.”
Something cold settled in Slate’s stomach. If they made Oriskany Falls their new home, this wouldn’t end once Halloween was over. “We need to stop this before they settle down here.”
“There’s more,” Oliver said. He flinched when Slate swung his gaze around. “We encountered a group of spirits who sensed the portal. They want to know what it’s for.”
“Why?” Dash asked. “It’s not like they can use it.”
“They don’t want to control it,” Thomas said. “They want to know if it can be opened.”
Anger pushed aside Slate’s concern. Spirits taking control of the portal would destroy everything his family had worked to create. “Not only can’t they open it, but I’ll banish every last one of them if they try.”
“They weren’t hostile,” Thomas added quickly. “But they were curious.”
“Does Gary know about any of this?” Dash asked.
“Gary sees what he wants to see,” Thomas said. “He thinks everyone wants the same as he does—to celebrate and spread positive energy around.”
