“That’s enough,” the man with the mustache snapped. “We’re not going to get anywhere talking. Let’s search the ground floor first. Then we’ll go upstairs.” Staying in a group, with us at the rear, the men moved through the large hollow suites in the east wing. The rooms were empty of furniture, tangled cobwebs dangled from the ceiling and clung to the walls. Decades of dust lay everywhere and the place reeked like mildew and sticky-sweet decay and something else . . . a shocking, heavy stench I remembered smelling before in a cave. Guano. The disgusting odor of bat dung. After we had explored every nook and cranny and found nothing except newspapers gathering in drifts, we moved on to what must have been an impressive parlor at one time.
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Turn on your flashlights!” one of the men shouted. “Shine them on the ghoul. Let’s see him in the light!” Before they were able to switch their lights back on, the murky figure drifted along the wall then darted through the door. I ran to the window and looked out at the yard, but the phantom had mysteriously vanished like snowflakes in a thaw. Seth whispered into my ear. “I wish like crazy, I was someplace else.” “Steady Seth,” I said, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped my recorder. “A first-class private-eye doesn’t leap to conclusions.” “It was probably a car. Somebody drove up the wrong driveway and their headlight beams glared in from outside,” Mr. Greene said decisively. “I mean, it’s the only logical explanation.” I squeezed around the cluster of men and into the hall. Flashlights flickered on the walls. Then someone suggested we turn off the lights again and wait in the dark. It was eerily quiet for a long time. Then I heard Ting-Ting whimper in Mr. Greene’s arms. “There it is!” Seth shouted. “On the stairs.” I watched the ghost soar from the landing to the second floor. “Come on!” The man with the mustache bolted recklessly up the stairs, his heeled cowboy boots with pointed toes click-clacking against the wooden …show more content…
“I have an idea,” I said and the men turned toward me. Someone shined a light on my face, I squinted and continued, “If anybody came up the stairs ahead of us, they would have left tracks in the dust. And if they did, we can follow them.” “She’s right,” Mr. Greene said. “You guys flash your lights on the floor and let’s see if we find a footprint.” Two beams went mad, frantically flickering off decorative plaster molding, glimmering between the ceiling rafters, and looping around the timber planks. There were a few dead bugs and a gray rat that became riled by the light, but no dark spots in the dust. The man in the Hawaiian shirt shook his head. “There’re no prints. Nobody’s been up here.” The man with the limp shrugged. “What did we see go up these stairs?” No one answered. “Come on,” one of the men whispered. “Let’s get out of here.” I turned and saw a dim bluish glow hovering above the ground inside one of the bedrooms. “Wait, there it is again in the middle of the room.” The vaguely human form swirled, then floated toward us—part wind, part indigo smoke, like a giant perturbed pirate awoken from a long
Turn on your flashlights!” one of the men shouted. “Shine them on the ghoul. Let’s see him in the light!” Before they were able to switch their lights back on, the murky figure drifted along the wall then darted through the door. I ran to the window and looked out at the yard, but the phantom had mysteriously vanished like snowflakes in a thaw. Seth whispered into my ear. “I wish like crazy, I was someplace else.” “Steady Seth,” I said, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped my recorder. “A first-class private-eye doesn’t leap to conclusions.” “It was probably a car. Somebody drove up the wrong driveway and their headlight beams glared in from outside,” Mr. Greene said decisively. “I mean, it’s the only logical explanation.” I squeezed around the cluster of men and into the hall. Flashlights flickered on the walls. Then someone suggested we turn off the lights again and wait in the dark. It was eerily quiet for a long time. Then I heard Ting-Ting whimper in Mr. Greene’s arms. “There it is!” Seth shouted. “On the stairs.” I watched the ghost soar from the landing to the second floor. “Come on!” The man with the mustache bolted recklessly up the stairs, his heeled cowboy boots with pointed toes click-clacking against the wooden …show more content…
“I have an idea,” I said and the men turned toward me. Someone shined a light on my face, I squinted and continued, “If anybody came up the stairs ahead of us, they would have left tracks in the dust. And if they did, we can follow them.” “She’s right,” Mr. Greene said. “You guys flash your lights on the floor and let’s see if we find a footprint.” Two beams went mad, frantically flickering off decorative plaster molding, glimmering between the ceiling rafters, and looping around the timber planks. There were a few dead bugs and a gray rat that became riled by the light, but no dark spots in the dust. The man in the Hawaiian shirt shook his head. “There’re no prints. Nobody’s been up here.” The man with the limp shrugged. “What did we see go up these stairs?” No one answered. “Come on,” one of the men whispered. “Let’s get out of here.” I turned and saw a dim bluish glow hovering above the ground inside one of the bedrooms. “Wait, there it is again in the middle of the room.” The vaguely human form swirled, then floated toward us—part wind, part indigo smoke, like a giant perturbed pirate awoken from a long