Demons LLC (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (6 page)

His hand was on the knob to the door when he noticed Jason and Donovan, sitting at the dining room table.
 
Troy was standing behind a camera in the corner while at the same time staring at a phone.
 
Alex heard the tail end of Donovan speaking.

"—please start at the beginning."

Jason took a breath and sipped at a glass of water.
 
Donovan waited patiently.

"Well, it started about three months ago, I guess."

Alex sighed.
 
He wanted to get away, but more than that, he wanted to hear what Jason had to say.
 
He shared much of his story over the phone, but Alex wouldn't pass up the chance to hear it again, to catch any important details.

He sat on the couch, well out of range of Troy's camera, and pulled out his phone and pen.

"It started out with the pictures.
 
We'd come home and some of them would just be on the floor, or knocked face down.
 
We ignored it.
 
What else can you do, right?
 
But then the noises started happening at night.
 
Loud, and I mean
loud
, footsteps.
 
Then Donna got pushed down the stairs.
 
After that, we started calling people.
 
No one's been able to help so far."

"Has anyone actually
seen
anything?"

"Donna thinks she saw a cloud of black smoke late one night when she was going to the bathroom.
 
But I haven't seen anything.
 
The kids haven't, either."

Donovan signaled for Troy to stop the camera.
 
Alex looked at his messy notes on the phone.
 
The details were scarce, but the cold attacking Alex told him the Felders were experiencing something for sure.

"Uh, Jason," Alex said, rising to his feet.
 
Everyone looked in his direction.
 
"Do you mind if I ask some questions, too?"

He intended the question for both Jason and Donovan.
 
Jason nodded, whereas Donovan's expression hinted at the exact opposite of his words.

"Of course," Donovan said.
 
"No problem at all."

"How long have you owned the house?"

"I grew up here," Jason said.
 
"My parents sold it to me when they moved out of state.
 
So, I've been here most of my life."

Alex didn't expect that.
 
A most unusual answer, and one that raised more questions.

"And the activity you've been experiencing these past three months, there was nothing before that?
 
In all your years here?"

"No, never."

Alex took notes, as well as Donovan.
 
For a moment, it felt like they were working together.

"Any recent home renovations?" Alex asked.
 
"Any major demolition or construction?"

"Well…."
 
Jason struggled to think.
 
"We put in a new shower upstairs."

Alex wrote it down, but doubted a new shower would stir up a long-dormant spirit.

"Has your family visited any place odd lately?
 
A haunted prison?
 
An old graveyard?
 
Strange question, I know."

"No.
 
Not at all.
 
We haven't taken a vacation together in a couple of years."

Alex felt like he was grasping at straws.
 
Something wasn't adding up.

"Anyone ever murdered here?" he asked.
 
The question came out more callous than he meant.
 
"Or any other slow, painful death?"

"No!" Jason said.
 
"Until recently, this was just a normal, simple house."

The dining room was quiet as the awkward silence stretched, but Alex wasn't paying attention.
 
He continued to stare at his notes.

Normal, simple houses didn't typically just develop supernatural problems.

In the end, he supposed that didn't matter.
 
He wasn't hired to unearth the history of the Felder home.
 
He was hired to chase away the bad spooks.
 
It was similar to the amazing piece of technology he held in his hand.
 
Sometimes, his phone had problems.
 
He didn't know where they'd come from, or even what exactly the problem was.
 
But Cindy would take the phone and pull out the battery, rebooting it.

As odd of a case as the Felder house was turning out to be, maybe the home just needed a reboot.

There were footsteps and muffled voices behind him, coming down the stairs.

"—lovely family."

"Thank you very much.
 
This whole thing has been hard on them, but they're troopers.
 
I'm so proud of them."

Donna and Amy glared at Alex, but thankfully said nothing.
 
Donovan approached Amy and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Anything?"

She shook her head.
 
"Nothing for certain.
 
Just a brief flash here and there."

"Okay."
 
He patted her shoulder, and Alex could see they were close.
 
Donovan turned to address Jason and Donna.
 
"If you don't mind, we'd like to prep the house.
 
Cameras and microphones in every room.
 
We'll take EMF readings, room temperature, all standard stuff.
 
All we need is some proof that something is here, and then we can—"

"Whoa," Amy said.

Everyone in the dining room went quiet.
 
Amy peered into the kitchen doorway.
 
Donna was checking the lasagna in the oven, and noticed Amy's gaze.
 
She quickly joined her husband in the dining room, taking his hand in hers.
 
Troy backed up near Alex in the living room, pointing his camera ahead.

"What's wrong?" Donna asked.
 
"Do you see something?"

Donovan placed a hand on Amy's back as she took the lead.

"Amy?
 
Talk to me."

"It's like a black fog," she said.
 
"Donna was standing right by it.
 
You guys don't see it?"

"We don't see anything."

Alex peered around Jason's shoulder to get a peek into the kitchen.
 
Amy had dropped to one knee, like she was staring into a child's eyes.
 
First Donna, and now Amy, had seen the black fog.
 
Alex was curious as to what his own senses would interpret it as.

He saw nothing.

At first, he thought he'd just missed it.
 
Being in the back of the group, he'd reacted too slowly, and whatever Amy had seen was long gone.

Then she talked to it.

"Hi," Amy said.
 
"My name's Amy."

"Careful," Donovan said.
 
"Maybe you shouldn't speak to it."

Alex leaned close to Troy.
 
"What's she talking to?"

"Shhh," Troy said.
 
"Amy sees things the rest of us can't."

Alex continued to watch Amy speak to thin air.
 
He was surprised that he didn't see anything at all.
 
He knew he was unique.
 
With all his unusual powers, he wasn't sure the word
psychic
actually applied to him.
 
Still, if Amy saw a black fog, certainly he should have seen something as well.

The truth, so simple and pure, smacked him across the face.
 
He couldn't believe it didn't come to him sooner.

"Holy shit," he muttered.
 
"She's a fake."

Troy lowered the camera and stared at Alex.
 
Alex thought he was quiet, but wasn't quiet enough.
 
Troy's mouth opened and closed as he searched for words.

"W-What did you say?"

Alex purposely kept his voice low.
 
"I said, she's a fake.
 
Amy isn't really psychic."

Troy said nothing.
 
He didn't look surprised, more like someone who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"You knew about this?" Alex asked, although Troy's eyes gave him the answer.

Troy grabbed Alex by the wrist and tried to lead him away.
 
Alex didn't consider himself a violent person, but the last thing he'd tolerate was anyone putting their hands on him.
 
He shook free easily and flashed Troy a look that suggested, quite simply, not to do that again.
 
Troy, to his credit, held up his hands in a show of peace.
 

"Mr. Donovan," Troy called.
 
"The battery's running out in my camera, and I forgot a few things.
 
Alex and I are going to head to the van."

Donovan didn't even turn around.

"Fine, fine."

"Actually, we could really use your help."

Whether it was the preposterous idea of Donovan carrying equipment, or the tone in Troy's voice, the elder man turned around.
 
All he did was lock eyes with Troy before standing upright next to Amy.

"It's okay," Amy said.
 
"Whatever it was, it's gone now.
 
I don't see it anymore."

"Yeah, I bet you don't," Alex said under his breath.

Alex and Troy crossed the living room, with Donovan ten feet behind.
 
They left the house, but didn't walk toward the van.
 
Alex enjoyed the warmth of the outside.
 
Troy stopped in the middle of the yard, with Donovan finally catching up.

"You knew about her, didn't you?" Alex asked.

A voice rang out across the street.

"Yo, Alex!" Nate called.
 
"You need me over there?"

"I'm alright, thanks," Alex said, waving.

Donovan and Troy glanced at each other in confusion.

"What's going on here?" Donovan asked.

Troy shook his head.
 
"He knows."

"Knows what?"

Alex pointed to the house.

"I know Amy isn't psychic.
 
So,
everyone
knows about this.
 
I'll bet the Felders don't know."

"Keep your voice down," Donovan said.
 
He took a deep breath.
 
"Yes, of course we know about Amy.
 
She may not be psychic, but she's still a very valuable part of our team.
 
I handpicked her, along with Troy and a few others, when I started researching the paranormal."

"You picked a fake psychic on purpose?"

Donovan laughed, once again resembling Santa Claus.
 
"Well, my first choice would have been a real psychic, but they don't exactly fall off trees.
 
Amy is the next best thing.
 
She's a psychology major at our college."

Alex searched their faces, looking for a clue.
 
Confusion was written all over his face.

"A lot of people won't even let us in their homes without a psychic," Donovan explained.
 
"They watch too much damn TV, and think a psychic can solve anything.
 
So, Amy plays the part.
 
She's great at reading people, watching them, helping them keep calm."

"Her looks don't hurt, either," Troy added.

"Troy…."

He held up his hands in self-defense.
 
"I'm serious!
 
I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything, but it helps.
 
She comes in and does her thing, keeps things chill and relaxed while I set up our gear, and Mr. Donovan gets statements.
 
I hate to sound this way, but the fact that she's hot goes a long way to keeping things under control."

"Unreal," Alex said.
 
"Sex sells, even with paranormal investigation."

"Let's make a deal," Donovan said.
 
"You keep this to yourself, and we won't tell them you're a con-man."

Alex was more stunned than angry.

"Excuse me?
 
Con-man?"

"What was in that envelope Jason gave you?
 
Are you actually
charging
for being here?"

"Aren't you?" Alex said with a shrug.

"What could we possibly charge for?" Donovan said, struggling to keep his voice even.
 
"We're trying to
help
this family."

"I am, too.
 
And the arrangement I made with the Felders is none of your business—"

"How old are you, Alex?
 
You barely look older than Troy.
 
You have no equipment of any kind.
 
How do you plan on gathering any evidence?
 
Please don't tell me you told the Felders you're actually psychic."

Alex rolled his eyes.
 
He wasn't going to argue with Donovan any longer.
 
He simply wanted to do his job, and go home.

"Deal," he said.
 
"I'll keep my mouth shut, and you won't tell them about my nasty conning ways.
 
We'll keep our distance, and try to figure out what's going on in there."

"You're getting ahead of yourself.
 
Again, we haven't even begun to collect evidence—"

"Something's in there," Alex interrupted.
 
He was already to the front door.
 
"I just don't know what yet."

Donovan said nothing.
 
He didn't need to.
 
The doubt and contempt in his eyes were apparent.
 
Troy, however, didn't look quite as convinced.

The atmosphere had finally reached a somewhat relaxed state in the Felder home.
 
The Felder family obviously felt more at ease with company, other people to share their feelings with.
 
Troy had all the gear prepared and recording.
 
Donovan had interviewed the rest of the family.
 
He'd even convinced Kim to say a few words on camera, much to Alex's surprise.