I’d just walked right into that.
Karen slammed two shot glasses down between us and poured us a whiskey. “Drink. You’re going to need it.” She probably thought this was the height of weird for us, when really, it was at most a two out of ten. I hadn’t even seen any ghosts floating about, so perhaps whoever it was had passed over.
I threw back the shot. The burn hit my belly, making my face scrunch into a grimace.
“Gary, cover the bar for five,” Karen hollered.
A tall, slim guy with dark hair and a wide smile stepped behind the bar and tipped his white hat at me. “Howdy, beautiful lady. What can I get for you?”
Hudson growled. “Nothing from you.”
I rolled my eyes, slid off my stool, and followed Dave and Robert through the side door and into a small room which doubled as Karen’s office and a storage room. The walls were either painted in the ugliest creamy yellow ever, or had turned that way over time. Either way, a lick of paint would do wonders for the aesthetic.
“So, these are your experts?” Karen asked Robert.
“That’s right.”
I slid a glance at Hudson and then Dave. We looked like a bunch of expert weirdos. Karen was more than aware of the supernatural community, but she hadn’t dealt with me directly before and was probably clueless to the elemental powerhouse in her midst—and that wasn’t even adding in my angel of death daddy. An image of my uncle and father came to mind, and I grinned. Oh, that was definitely happening.
She twisted her battered laptop around, showing us a black and white video of her working the bar.
“It happens at 8:08,” Robert informed us.
I glanced at the clock. There was one minute to go. We all leaned in, including Harry. I squinted, staring at The Pit’s owner’s backside, waiting for her to get felt up by a ghost. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
“There it is,” Dave muttered as we watched a definite dent appear in Karen’s skirt. She jumped around and started shouting at the nearest guy. He held his hands up, slid off the bar stool, and made a prompt exit. Karen glared at him, then glanced up at the camera before stalking out of sight.
“That’s it?” Hudson asked.
I bit my lip. No, it definitely wasn’t it. “Rewind it, please, to two minutes before,” I requested. Dave did so, and I watched again, noting a very odd shadow. It wouldn’t be unusual if it was still, but it was moving, and there was nothing responsible for it.
“You see it?” Harry asked.
I did, which was weird, because ghosts didn’t occupy this dimension, meaning cameras and videos couldn’t record them. “Yeah. I wonder where it is now.”
Harry floated toward the door and stuck his head through the wood. He reappeared with a frown. “I’ll take a sweep through the building and report back,” he promised before zooming off.
“Harry’s checking,” I informed the others.
“Who’s Harry?” Karen asked.
Time to level with her. “My dead vampire ghost side-kick.”
Her mouth opened, hung there, then snapped closed. “Aren’t vampires already dead?” she eventually settled on.
I knew I liked her. “No, but it’s a common misconception.”
Dave replayed the video for the third time. “I don’t get it. What are you seeing?”
I pointed at the shadowy face lurking at the side of the bar, its reflection a haunting image in the mirror behind the bottles of alcohol.
“What is that?” Hudson asked. It shifted and moved toward Karen, then pushed up against her, creating the indent we’d first seen.
Harry burst through the wall. “Pineapples.” Really? We had a pineapple situation now?
Shouts and screams broke through the thin barrier of the wall, and we took off running into the bar. The lights flickered above us, and the music playing in the background created a surreal backdrop to the ensuing chaos.
People rushed for the exits as creepy shadow things chased the line dancing folks of White Castle around. A smaller womanfell, and a tall middle-aged guy scooped her into his arms and hurried toward the doors.
