Writing May Be Hard But Marketing Is So Much Worse

It’d seemed like such a simple case, too. Troublesome ghosts, scared family, easy cash. Danny had been handling ghost-related cases since he was eleven, and it was the type of case the Horners took most often. Dealing with ghosts could be dangerous, but more often than not, it was something they could handle without much of a sweat. Plus, ghost cases were basically a guaranteed payout. Even if there was nothing truly paranormal going on, they could usually figure out the real issue or whip up a convincing fake exorcism. Or both. Depended on the client. 

But this… something was different about this case. Margot’s powers being blocked was a definite red flag, and the description of the haunting almost sounded too perfect, like they’d found every sign of a ghost online and thrown it all together to be convincing. And that whole “just one more thing” bit with the witch, well…

Danny scowled and scuffed his sneakers against the sidewalk. He wasn’t stupid. He knew it was probably a ruse, some red herring the shady family had cooked up to throw them off. Maybe they even knew about his history with witches and had said something specifically to rile him up. But even then, just because the family couldn’t be trusted didn’t mean the witch could be. 

Then again, she might not be an actual witch, just a small business owner with a particular aesthetic, but at this point, Danny knew better than to expect an easy answer to his problems. 

It was an October Saturday, so the small town’s shopping district was bustling, the scent of cold wind and bonfires and pumpkin pie in the air. Danny stopped a few people as he walked, asking polite questions and receiving polite answers. He learned that the witch's name was Camila Castillo, she’d only been in Wolfden for a few years, and she ran a shop out of her cottage near the western edge of town. He also learned that most people considered her a strange, bohemian type, but everyone had at least one friend that’d gone to her with a problem that she’d miraculously managed to solve. 

Most likely a real witch, Danny thought to himself, heading towards the western edge of town. Which means she has the capacity to curse people. 

He probably should’ve taken a weapon with him besides his pocket knife, but Danny wasn’t too worried. Aurora always said that most mages weren’t trained to use their power for anything but small rituals and spells. Magic was complicated; it required training and focus and lots of different components, and very few people were powerful enough to use magic to actually fight. Danny figured this witch was no exception. Besides, he wasn’t too bad of a fighter himself. If he really felt threatened, he could always run away and call Margot. 

The town was small enough that the walk to Camila Castillo’s house only took about half an hour. Her little cottage was off the roadside, tucked into some trees, far enough from town that it offered some peace and quiet. Danny’s shoes crunched on her gravel driveway, and he noticed a few cars parked in the lot out front, most likely belonging to customers. The porch steps creaked as he walked to the door. 

A makeshift sign nailed to the door read, “Trinkets and Tinctures: Handcrafted teas, tonics, candles, and crafts. Buys and sells used books. Fortune telling and magical guidance available.” Another, smaller sign that read “OPEN” hung on the doorknob. 

Before he could reach out to open the door, it moved away from him, and a pair of older women walked out, gossiping amongst themselves. They cast him two curious glances, and he returned a tense smile before walking inside, the door shutting behind him.

Danny inhaled the scents of herbs, incense, and candle wax. A few chimes and hanging decorations fluttered about in the wind coming through the open front window. He walked over the faded carpets and creaky floors, taking in the various items scattered about on tables and shelves, the individual hand-drawn price tags, the satisfying, homey clutter. Muffled voices came from a room near the back, and Danny tilted his head to peek inside just as a young woman about his age tilted her own head to find him. 

“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” she said, smiling kindly. The woman was tall and overweight, with pale skin and dark, wavy hair tied in a thick ponytail. Her eyes were dark too, almost black, and she was wearing a fashionable sweater dress and lots of funky jewelry. Danny could see combat boots on her feet where they were tucked under the seat of her chair. She turned away to focus back on the tarot cards she was reading, and Danny occupied himself with examining her wares, hovering close enough to the door to listen in on the conversation. 

“—just don’t know if I’m overreacting or not,” the customer said, her voice filled with nerves. “But he seems so distant lately, and I wonder if he’s having an affair—”

“Well,” probably-Camila said, “let’s just see what your final card says.” Danny picked up a bottle of some kind of herbal tonic and heard a card flip on the table. “Six of cups! That’s a good sign.”

“It is?” the customer asked. 

“Oh yes. The six of cups is usually about nostalgia and dwelling too much on the past. You’ve been married for thirty years, Melinda. Things aren’t the same as they were at the beginning. And that’s okay! You and your husband just need to be on the same page about it. I think you should talk to him.”

“But what if he’s having an affair?”

“Try not to focus on your fears. Just talk to him and learn about what he wants. And make sure you tell him what you want. A relationship is a two-way street, Melinda. I’m sure things will be okay.” 

They went on for a little while longer, Danny bumping around the main shopping room and peeking into the kitchen as they talked. Eventually, the customer left, a frazzled woman in her fifties that barely even noticed Danny as he returned to the main room. The bells over the door rang lightly as she walked out. Probably-Camila walked out of the back room, a velvet bag of tarot cards in one hand. 

“Hello! What can I do for you?” she asked with a smile. Danny gave her a once-over. She was taller than him, probably 5’10” or so, likely around his age of twenty-three, and she held herself with an easy sort of confidence. Her smile seemed genuine, and her expression was open, but her eyes watched him carefully. The velvet bag of tarot cards slipped into a large pocket on her dress so her hands could be free. 

Friendly, but not naive, he thought. She’s dealt with dangerous people before. Definitely a real witch. 

“Are you Camila Castillo?” he asked. 

Her eyebrows twitched, a little confused, but her smile stayed. “Yes, I’m Camila Castillo,” she said. “Who might you be?”

“Danny Rye,” he answered. “I was wondering if you could tell me about the Farmer family.”

At that, Camila stilled, her smile slipping away as her eyes sharpened in on him. Her right hand began to twitch, as if she was deciding whether or not to hold something. 

Probably has her wand up her sleeve, Danny realized. Maybe she can use magic to fight. 

If she could, then he probably didn’t want to piss her off, but it seemed like he’d already done that. 

“Are you a hunter?” Camila asked, her voice calm and easy but her posture anything but. 

Danny shook his head. “No. Just an investigator.”

“You don’t look very official.”

“I’m a private investigator.”

Camila narrowed her eyes. “But you know the paranormal exists.” When Danny nodded, she tilted her head slightly, still cautious but also curious. “How?”

“I can see ghosts,” he answered, and Camila blinked in surprise. “And I’m guessing you’re a real witch.”

She kept watching him with a steady gaze, her right hand poised to flick the wand out of her sleeve. Danny sighed. This wasn’t how he’d wanted the conversation to go. 

“Look,” he said. “I’m not here to do anything. I just want to know if you cursed them or something.”

“Cursed the Farmers?” Camila stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Why would I—I barely even know them! Why would I curse them?” 

Danny could hear and see the confusion in Camila, but she could’ve just been a good actor. Not for the first time, he wished he had Margot’s lie detection ability. “They implied their house problems could be attributed to you. I’m just checking out a lead.”

“They implied—?” Camila sighed in frustration, reaching up to put a hand to her face. “Look, I haven’t seen any of them since the day after they moved in. Their little girl came up to me in the park and started talking, and then her parents pulled her away like I was a vat of toxic waste. Was I upset? Sure. Did I curse them? No!”

“But you did interact with them in the park?” Danny asked, surprised the Farmers hadn’t just completely lied. 

“Yeah. They seemed like normal old mundies to me.” Camila watched him, her brows furrowing. “Why? Did they hire you to investigate me?”

“Not you.” Danny still wasn’t sure he could completely trust this witch, but he had a feeling she might be able to help them. “They claim to have a malevolent spirit in their house. We were hired to get rid of it.”

“And they name dropped me, and now you’re here investigating.” She nodded, her mind catching up, but her brows were still bunched in thought. Her eyes came up to meet his. “Did they… were they acting weird in any way?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because according to the fair folk in this area, something strange happened at their house about a week ago,” Camila replied. “And three days later, they moved into the inn.” 

It was Danny’s turn to be confused. “The fair folk?”

Camila stared at him. “You know, fairies? The fae? Aren’t you a paranormal investigator?”

“I know what they are,” Danny said indignantly. “They—You talk to them? They’re around here?”

A smile began to creep back onto Camila’s face. “I’m a witch. I’m very good with magical beings,” she said. When Danny’s confused look didn’t fade, she rolled her eyes. “There’s a small ley line junction behind my house that leads to the Fae Realm. Smaller fae slip through all the time, and they usually come to me to settle arguments.” 

Danny nodded, some of Aurora’s lessons resurfacing with Camila’s words. Ley lines, if he recalled correctly, were lines of arcane energy that criss-crossed the world, and the junctions where they crossed led to other planes of existence. One of those planes was the Fae Realm, where fairies and brownies and hags came from, along with other kinds of beings. 

“I thought travel between the realms was difficult,” Danny said. 

Camila shrugged. “It is for people without arcane power. Fae folk are basically made of arcane power. It’s easier for them.”

Danny desperately wanted to believe that Camila was spinning lies to make herself seem more knowledgeable, but every memory he had of Aurora’s teachings just reinforced what she said. Irritating. 

“Do you think they could be responsible for what’s happening at the Birchwood estate?” he asked. 

Camila thought about it for a moment. “I mean, they could be, but it’s unlikely,” she said. “Most fae that come through here aren’t much more powerful than your average ghost. They can do minor tricks and illusions and stuff, but…” She shook her head. “No, my bet is something’s going on with whatever happened last week. The sprites really freaked out about it.”

“Okay.” Maybe she was telling the truth, but even if she wasn’t, Danny knew it was a good idea to stay on her side. At least until they discovered she’d been the source of everything, and then they’d have to fight her. But that would come later, if it came at all. “Well, thanks for your help. Sorry to bother you.”

He began to walk out, but Camila followed him to the door, almost hesitant. “Wait,” she said, “what are you doing now? Going to the house?”

“Well, first I’m going to ask my friends to pick me up, and then yes, we’re going to the house.” 

“Could—” Camila stopped, like she was reconsidering what she was about to say, and then she kept going. “Could I… come with you?”

Danny stared at her, his suspicion shooting through the roof. “Why?”

“I…” Camila heaved a sigh. “Okay, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m a pretty powerful witch, and I’ve been stuck in this town doing tarot readings for bored housewives for… god, four years? I just—” She shook her head and then gave him as open and honest a look as he could imagine her giving. “Look, I have training with combat magic. And this weirdness with the Birchwood estate is starting to hurt both sides of my business. If I can help, I’d like to help. That’s it.” 

Danny stared at her for a long moment, trying to gauge how much bullshit she was spewing, but the more he looked at her, the less he thought she was lying. There was something about the openness in her posture and the slight desperation in her face that made him believe her. And being a powerful witch stuck making tonics and telling fortunes in the middle of nowhere…

“How old are you?” Danny asked suddenly.

Camila shrugged. “I turned twenty-three two weeks ago.” 

“And you’ve been on your own since… nineteen?”

She shrugged again, this time a little more guarded. “It’s a long story.”

“And somehow you can use combat magic.”

Camila fixed him with a stare, and then, quick as lightning, her wand slipped into her hand and she flicked it up. Danny saw a flash of lavender light at the end of her wand as he felt his tartan green trapper hat fly off his head towards her. She caught it with her other hand with barely a flinch. 

“I’m good for more than just potions and fortune telling,” she said, holding the hat out for him to take. “I could set something on fire, if you want.”

“Uh, no, that’s alright.” Danny took his hat back and quickly put it on, the familiar weight and pressure of it easing his nerves. “I… Alright, let me call my friends, and if they’re fine with you tagging along, you can come to the mansion with us. Sound good?” 

Camila nodded, a bit of a smile reaching her face, and Danny fished his phone out of his pocket and speed dialed Margot. She picked up almost immediately. 

“Hey,” she said, her electronic voice just above a whisper. “Where are you?”

“Western edge of town. I found the witch. Her name’s Camila Castillo.” 

It was quiet for a moment, and then: “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. She’s bona fide. Wants to tag along while we investigate, actually. Says the fae around here got skittish around a week ago, and then the Farmers moved to the inn afterwards. You guys okay with her tagging along?”

“Are… you okay with her tagging along?”

Danny glanced at Camila again, who had slipped her wand behind her ear and was watching him, waiting. He didn’t quite give her a smile, but the flat-mouthed expression he did give seemed to put her at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m fine with it.”

“Okay. Then I guess we are too. What’s her address?”

Danny gave an affirmative nod at Camila, and her smile turned into a full grin. “I’m gonna go grab some stuff, I’ll be ready in five,” she said quietly, and then she headed towards the back, where her kitchen and the stairs were. Danny walked out onto the porch and gave Margot the address. 

“Got it.” He could hear movement on the other end, the scraping of chair legs across carpet and Jake’s muffled voice talking to someone. “We’ll be there soon. Town hall didn’t have a whole lot on the Birchwood estate anyway.”

“What’d you find?”

“Uh, hold on, Jake?”

Some movement and muffled talking, and then Jake was on the line. “Hey Rye, uh, Birchwood estate, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. So it was built in the 1940s by Thomas Birchwood, who we figured out is the great grandfather of Jill Farmer by the way, no deaths or strange occurrences in the house since it was built… Honestly, it seems pretty normal.”

Danny mulled this over for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. “Alright. That’s probably not a good sign.”

“Yeah, we had the same thought. Also, Margot said you found the witch? You good, man?”

The concern in Jake’s voice made an alarm bell go off in Danny’s head. “I’m… fine. Why?”

“Oh, uh…” Jake’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Danny heard a car door open and shut in the background. “Margot told me about your sister. She… don’t get mad at her, okay? She was just worried about you after you stormed off and everything, and—”

“Oh.” Danny’s stomach twisted a little, his sister Lily’s face resurfacing from his memories. “No, it’s okay, I get it. What’d she tell you?”

“Just that you had an older sister and she got killed by a coven of witches. I think she wanted you to tell me more, if, you know, you were up for it.”

Danny nodded, forcing himself to breathe. He wasn’t angry. Actually, he was kind of relieved the three of them were on the same page about this, and he was grateful Margot had left the details out. He’d been meaning to tell Jake about it for a while now, anyway, but Margot was always better at getting to the point than he was.

“Okay. Uh, let Margot know I’m not mad or anything, alright?”

“Will do.”

“And Jake?” Danny walked off the porch onto the gravel driveway and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I want us to keep an eye on Camila. I think she’s involved, somehow, but… I don’t know. I don’t think she wants to hurt anyone, but she’s definitely a part of the puzzle.”

Silence on the other end, and then Jake said, “Alright, yeah, for sure. How powerful is she, do you think? Magic-wise?”

“Very.” Danny smiled a little, realizing why Jake was asking. “I’m sure she’d love to hear you geek out about magic, Jake.”

“I, that wasn’t—okay, well, shut up.”

Danny chuckled. “See you soon.”

He ended the call just as the porch steps creaked under Camila’s weight, and he turned to see her slipping her house keys into her pocket. She had a leather knapsack on now, probably filled with other witchcraft supplies, and her wand was still tucked behind her ear. 

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” she said with a smile, and the two of them walked to the end of the driveway. “I know it’s probably weird, I just, well, there isn’t a whole lot to do around here, paranormally speaking or otherwise, plus I don’t think I’ve spoken to someone my age in a while, so. You know. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” Danny tucked his hands into his vest pockets and watched her out of the corner of his eye. “By the way, you a fan of horror movies?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, actually. Why?”

“Just figured I’d ask, since we’re about to go investigating a potentially haunted house.”

Danny nodded, his mouth quirking to the side as he mulled this over. “Jake?” he asked.

Margot looked into the rearview mirror to see Jake waving his notebook in the dinette seat behind her. “I mean, their story checks out,” he said, “details are roughly the same, or at least as the same as they can be with any sort of witness testimony, they have basically all the signs of some sort of malevolent spirit being in the house if, you know, they’re telling the truth, and they are still willing to pay us, which is definitely a positive, but–”

“Something else is going on,” Danny finished, and Jake nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I got that vibe too.”

Danny sighed and took off the green tartan trapper hat he always wore, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Great,” he said. “The first solid chance of money we’ve had in a month, and something’s up with the clients. Of course.”

Margot had to agree. She and Danny had been doing this gig since she graduated from college a little over a year ago, and, well… The paranormal was everyday stuff for them. Hell, they were paranormal, technically speaking. But most people had no idea magic and werewolves and all that stuff even existed, thanks to the Veil. And even without the mysteriously persistent psychic energy keeping almost everyone in the dark about the existence of supernatural forces, it’s not like paranormal folk were itching to expose their existence. Any jobs the Horners got were usually from lying attention seekers, occult hobbyists, or scared mundies with nowhere else to turn. They did this job because they wanted to help people with their powers, but at this point, all they really cared about was getting paid, staying out of jail, and not dying on a case.

“What about that witch they were talking about?” Jake asked. “Do you think she might be involved in some way? Like she cursed them or something? Or do you think that’s what they want us to think so we get confused?”

Danny’s face darkened as he stared out the windshield, and Margot winced and turned to face Jake behind her.

“Could go either way,” Margot said. “Personally, I think they’re just blowing smoke–”

“We should check her out,” Danny said, still glaring straight ahead. “Just to be sure.”

Margot and Jake shared a glance, Jake’s face questioning, his emotions confused. Right. They hadn’t filled him in on Danny’s history with witches yet. Probably something they should do soon. Preferably now.

“Danny,” Margot said, “I think we should–”

“You two swing by the town hall, see what sort of records they have on the house,” he said, not even listening. His mind was a million miles away, his eyes distant. “I’m gonna ask around about this witch.”

“Danny, wait–” Margot began, but he opened the van door and slipped outside before she could finish, shutting it behind him without even a glance. She sighed indignantly as he walked away down the sidewalk.

“Great,” she said, sinking into the driver’s seat. “He’s in a mood.”

Jake gave her a confused look in the rearview mirror. “About what? What’s he so upset about?”

“Well, I was going to ask him to share that with you, but now that he’s being all angsty, I guess I will. Try not to let him kill me later.”

“Like beating you in a fight is even possible for either of us.”

“Well, thank you, that’s a much better compliment than your last one.”

Jake gave her a half-hearted glare, and she gave him a half-hearted smirk, but then the van fell silent, neither of them wanting to speak. Well, mostly Margot not wanting to speak. Jake was waiting for her to explain everything.

“You might want to come up front,” she said, and Jake’s eyebrows raised, but he climbed into the front seat, a skill all three of them had mastered after so long on the road. Once he was seated, she continued: “Look, this is kind of heavy, um… Danny used to have an older sister.”

Jake watched her, his brown eyes soft behind his rectangular glasses. “Used to,” he said.

“Yeah.” Margot huffed out some air and continued to stare out the windshield, never the best at eye contact in these sorts of situations. Jake would understand. “He, uh, when he was seventeen, he brought her on a case, and um. She was killed. By a coven of witches.”

Jake blinked, his eyes flitting to the side as the cogs in his mind turned. “So… I’m guessing Danny isn’t the best at dealing with witches?”

“Yeah.” Margot took a breath, trying to calm her heart. “Something like that.”

God, she hoped Danny wouldn’t blow a gasket when he learned about this conversation. That was the last thing they needed.

“Should we follow him?” Jake asked.

Margot clenched her jaw and glanced out the window towards the direction Danny had gone, but she couldn’t see him anymore. He must’ve turned a corner. “He’s not stupid enough to take on a witch by himself. Especially without any weapons.” She jerked her head towards the back, where Danny’s various weapons (three baseball bats, a large knife, and a hunting rifle) were still tucked away. “And, uh, I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly want him to catch us following him right now.”

Jake watched her for a long moment. “He’s not gonna hurt you, Margot,” he said.

“I know!” It came out snappy, and she immediately winced at the sound of her own voice. “I know. Sorry. I just…” Margot let out a shaky sigh, refusing to look at Jake so she wouldn’t have to see the sympathetic pity on his face. No, she just felt it and knew for certain it was there. That was all. Real great gig, having psychic powers.

“Let’s just go to the town hall,” she said, turning the key in the ignition to start the van. It rumbled to life, the sound as comforting to her ears as a cat’s purr. “You up for some research, beanpole?”

Jake blinked, but then he forced a small grin and nodded; Margot didn’t feel his concern for her go away, but he’d at least caught on that she didn’t want to talk about it. Good.

“Oh, you know me,” he said, buckling his seatbelt. “Always looking for a chance to remind myself my seven years in academia weren’t a waste of time.”

Margot snorted and pulled the van out of the parking space. “At least you didn’t go to an Ivy League.”

“You know, that’s fair. What must your alma mater think of you now, driving a beat-up van around the country solving mysteries about things most people don’t even think exist?”

Margot slid onto the exit ramp a minute later, and Danny continued to rattle off directions until they finally arrived at their destination: Wolfden, Montana, a classic small town hidden in the tall pine forest. According to the email Danny had received, there was an old mansion just north of town that a new family had moved into, and soon after, there’d been a slew of paranormal activity. No deaths or serious injuries, thankfully, so if they were dealing with a poltergeist, it probably wasn’t too vengeful or anything. But still, a ghost making a ruckus usually meant the ghost was upset in some way, and as paranormal investigators, it was their responsibility to take care of it.

Plus, the family had been willing to pay in full to get the place exorcised, and Margot and the boys really needed the money. If they didn’t fuel up soon, her van would be running on fumes, and thanks to all the fast food they’d been eating, one of them was likely to contract scurvy.

Margot drove the van to the town’s small inn, where the spooked family was staying for the time being. She parked outside, and the three of them headed in. It was a nice hotel, with a dash of Victorian and just a hint of quaint, the concierge throwing them suspicious looks as Danny asked them to call the family down. Margot and Jake waited in the lobby, shifting from foot to foot nervously, until Danny came to join them with his hands in his vest pockets. 

“What’re their names again?” Jake asked.

“Farmer,” Danny said. “Jill and Terrance Farmer. And they’ve got two kids.”

“Ah, Margot’s specialty,” Jake said with a lopsided grin. Margot gave him a squinty look, and Jake laughed. “Relax, Queens, I meant you’re good with kids. It was a compliment. Rare for you to get one, I know, but it can happen.”

“How many times have I saved your life again?” Margot asked. “Thirty? Thirty-five?”

“I’ve saved yours too, you know.”

“Yeah, like twice.”

“Three times!”

“The incubus in Wisconsin doesn’t count.”

“How am I the youngest person here?” Danny asked, pointedly trying to ignore the pair of them. Margot would’ve replied, but then she heard the elevator doors ding open, and both Margot and Jake shut their mouths for the sake of looking professional.

A younger couple appeared in the lobby, plain looking and nervous, the husband in a polo shirt and khakis, the wife in a sundress. Their kids followed behind, a boy and girl–the boy was younger and wearing light-up sneakers, and the girl had her hair tied back in pigtails with red ribbons.

A classic, picture-perfect, horror-film American family, Margot thought. Right down to the blond hair and perfect teeth.

They felt… off to her, in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But then they turned and caught sight of Danny, and the expression of relief on their faces forced her to drop the thought.

Not everyone had a screwed-up childhood like you did, Margot, she scolded herself. Stop being paranoid. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Farmer?” Danny asked, putting on a smile. Margot knew he hated it, but he really was the best of them when it came to customer service stuff. Jake tended to ramble excitedly about things most people found disturbing, and Margot, well… She’d been told more than once that she had an “overly aggressive personality.” But she was good with kids, for some reason. Always had been. The little girl met her gaze, eyes wide and afraid and clutching her father’s hand, and Margot smiled and gave her a small wave. She smiled timidly back.

“Yes,” Mr. Farmer said, walking forward, “that’s us. I assume you’re the, uh…?”

“Horner Paranormal Private Investigators, yes.” Danny shook the man’s hand. “I’m Danny Rye. These are my associates, Margot Queensbury and Jake Tassel-Chastain. We hoped we could ask you some questions before we headed to the estate. Is there a place we could sit down?”

Mr. Farmer nodded and brought them to a small area of the lobby with a few overstuffed chairs and couches. They all sat down, the family together on the large couch, Danny in an armchair, and Jake and Margot on a lounge. Jake took out his notebook, clicked a pen, and nodded at Danny.

“Alright,” Danny said, “I know you sent most of this information in your email, but I’d like to hear it from you again. Let’s go over everything, one step at a time.”

Margot straightened up a little, eyes darting between the Farmers as she, well… she didn’t like to call it “opening her mind,” but that was kind of what it felt like, even if it was a phrase ripped straight out of Star Wars. They all had their paranormal talents–it was why they did this job, why they stuck together. Danny was a spirit medium. Could see and talk to ghosts and everything. Jake had some weird stuff going on they didn’t fully understand yet, but he was a genius at combining technology with what little magic they could manage. Margot? She was psychic. Weird dreams of the future, strange visions when she touched certain objects, moving things with her mind, the whole nine yards. Right now, she was using what she liked to call her “human lie detector ability.” Subset of empathy, if the Internet was to be believed, but all Margot cared about was if her stomach twinged at all while one of the Farmers was talking.

“Well,” Mr. Farmer said slowly, “our first night there, there was no storm, no wind, but the lights would flicker on and off constantly. We thought it was old wiring at first, but the place had just been refurbished… and then we kept hearing strange noises coming from the basement.”

Margot tilted her head as Mr. Farmer continued, her hand next to Jake’s leg on the lounge so she could subtly tap him if she felt a lie. That “off” feeling was back as she watched the family, and she suddenly realized what it was. She couldn’t feel anything. Emotionally, at least. A family like this, spooked enough to move out of their own house? Even if they weren’t lying, Margot would’ve felt a slew of strong emotions from them. Fear, suspicion, desperation. She felt nothing. It was like something was blocking her psychic senses, and that wasn’t something she’d ever felt before.

Without shifting her gaze, Margot began to tap on Jake’s leg in Morse Code. Don’t feel anything. At first, he started to scribble, thinking she was indicating a lie, but then his brain picked up on the code, and he stilled next to her.

“…window slammed shut so hard it shattered, and that’s when we emailed you. And moved out to the inn.” Mr. Farmer finished speaking, his eyes flicking over to Margot for a moment, and Margot sucked in a breath as quietly as she could. Sensing emotion was always easier with eye contact. Whoever had invented the phrase “eyes are windows to the soul” had definitely been an empath. When she met his eyes, it was like Margot peeked through a crack in the barrier hiding Mr. Farmer’s emotions from her, and in that moment, she only felt one thing from him.

Hunger.

Something wrong, she tapped out on Jake’s thigh. Something very wrong.

“Alright, that sounds like a pretty standard haunting,” Danny said, oblivious to Margot’s insight. “There’s probably a ghost or two on the premises that you angered when you moved in. We’ll check it out, clear out anything we find, and once the problem’s dealt with, we can discuss the rest of your payment.”

“Payment?” Mr. Farmer asked. “I thought we already paid.”

“The advance was the money it took to get us here,” Danny explained. “Food, gas, stuff like that. And to make sure you were serious about hiring us. This sounds like a pretty routine situation, though, so there probably won’t be many additional expenses.”

“Oh,” Mr. Farmer said. “Alright.”

“Either way, I’m sure we’d all love a discussion about where your money is going.” Danny stood up, and Jake and Margot did too, Jake shutting his notebook with a soft snap. Danny also reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Mr. Farmer. “If there’s anything else you forgot to mention, you can reach us at that number. In the meantime, we’ll do our best to sort everything out.”

The three of them turned to leave, headed for the lobby doors, Margot trying to still the nerves in her stomach. And then…

“But, wait, what about the witch?” the little girl asked. “Daddy, you didn’t tell them about the witch.”

Margot felt a jolt of fear from Danny as they stopped.

“That’s because she’s not a real witch, honey,” Mrs. Farmer said with a soft smile. “She’s just a… unique individual, okay?”

“But you said she cursed–”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Farmer said firmly, and the girl went quiet with a pout as her mom turned towards the three of them. “I’m sorry, her imagination–”

“It’s alright,” Danny said. There was tension running through his entire frame. His voice was a little more detached than it had been before, and instead of meeting Margot’s gaze, which was screaming we need to leave and talk privately, right now, he instead turned to face the Farmers again. “Actually, I’d just like to make sure we’ve covered all our bases. Could you talk to me about this witch?”

The parents looked at each other, both a little surprised. “Well, sure,” Mrs. Farmer said. “She’s just some bohemian young woman that lives on the edge of town. She’s not… actually a witch, is she?”

“Well, you believe in ghosts, don’t you?” Danny said, not too sympathetically. His patience was starting to wear thin; Margot didn’t need to be an empath to know that. “Look, I just need to know if you… angered this woman in any way.”

“We…” The parents glanced at each other again, and Mr. Farmer sighed. “I, yes, I might have upset her a few weeks ago. We’d just moved in, wanted to explore the town a bit, and we ended up bumping into her in the park–”

“She was very strange, mind you,” Mrs. Farmer interjected. “Very strange. She apologized, of course, but she kept staring at us, I can’t really describe how, it was just… unsettling.”