I awoke the next morning still perturbed at the French guy. He'd seemed to judge me for being at the bridge, as if he had the moral right and I had committed a sin. But what irked me more was how he clearly thought I'd bend so easily to his 'suggestion' to not enter. Maybe he was used to dealing with stupid girls, the kind that would take his interference as interest, and who he could use his accent and good looks against as a weapon. I wasn't that dense, but I wasn't immune, either. I had noticed. But his being cute wasn't enough of a reason to let him stand in my way. I didn't need his permission. He didn't own that bridge, and he didn't own me! I'd gone there looking for the unexplained, not a false admirer with a thinly veiled threat.

I looked at my watch – nine o'clock. Ghostley Electronics would be open and I wanted to get there early. I got up and dressed and then headed downstairs, but just as I reached the bottom landing, the phone rang. Debating if I should leave anyway and let it ring, I knew that if it was my aunt, 'twenty questions' would be my punishment for not answering it the next time she called, I walked over and picked it up."Hello?"

"Hi. Listen, I have something that ... you need to come over," Rhys said.

"Why? Don't you have your 'Meeting of the minds' breakfast this morning?"

"I do – but that can wait. Remember those pictures I took of your room?"

"Yeah."

"Come over – now."

He hung up. Curious to know what had him so bothered, I left for his house. I walked up the porch steps, but before I could ring the doorbell, the door opened. "What took so long?"

"I just walked over."

"You need to see this. Those pictures I took have more than just you in an empty bedroom."

I followed him up the stairs to his bedroom. "Why didn't you just come over with your phone ... or, are you planning to use me as the scapegoat for abandoning your plans for the study group?"

He went directly to his desk where his computer was. "When I first transferred the photos from my phone, I didn't bother looking at them. But this morning, I accidentally clicked onto my saved photos folder and this is what popped up." With his finger on the mouse, he stared at me while I watched the slideshow of the pictures he took of my bedroom. When he got to the last one, my eyes widened.

He nodded. "Yeah."

Inside the open doorframe of my bedroom, and looking directly into the camera ... was a girl I'd never seen before with dull blonde hair and a sad expression.

I did my best to ignore the chills going up and down my spine. Ghosts ... in Mannix ... I wasn't a lunatic after all – I had proof they existed! With my hope renewed that I'd someday get to speak with my parents again, I said, "Tell me this is some sort of double image."

"I would love to but it's not. It was taken with my phone," he murmured.

There was no more doubt. I was more anxious than ever to get to Ghostley's Electronics. "I've got to go!"

Clearly upset, he asked, "You're leaving me alone with this picture?"

"It's only a picture. Besides, it was taken in my room, not yours." I reached past him and clicked out of the screen. "Ghosts, Rhys. Now do you believe me?"

He didn't answer right away, but his look of incredulity said it all – he finally knew I'd been right all along. After a long pause, he said, "I don't know how I'm going to be able to concentrate after ..."

"Then, come with me."

"Where?"

"Ghostley Electronics. I want to see if there's anything in there to help me look for ghosts."

"I'm still not convinced chasing fog and calling it a ghost is the same thing, and I should warn you – they have techie stuff in there, and ..."

"Snap out of it, Rhys. You're in shock." I was, too. But in order to get him to come with me, I couldn't let him know. If I freaked out where he could see, any hope of him coming with me would be dashed. I'd need something more than a flashlight, something that would justify my efforts weren't in vain ... and after seeing the picture, capturing a disembodied voice would be a great way do it! But I needed Rhys' help to untangle the techie-friendly-but-other-person-unfriendly language I was sure those guys would throw at me.

He shook his head. "I doubt you're going to find anything you can use. I've been inside and didn't see anything like that before ..." He paused. "Wait – I remember hearing that the owner planned to extend and add a sub store ..." His eyes narrowed and he looked at me almost accusingly before he finished, "For historical and haunted tours."

"No more wasting time. Let's go to Ghostley's."

"It's close to the diner. I'll drive you there," he said.

"Are you serious? You're going to ignore what's there, evidence that ghosts exist ... for a study group?"

"Yes. I can't ... you know I'm not into that stuff. I know your parents just died, and all, but, Ashe ... ghosts?" He looked at his blank computer and, with a dramatic shudder, he turned away.

"It's called denial, Rhys. You saw the picture. It is possible ... it is real!"

"I'll drop you off, but that's all I'm doing. I can't tell everyone at the study group I won't be there because I'm going to look for ghosts instead. They'd think I was a nut and I'd never hear the end of it."

That he'd offered to still drive me to the store wasn't much, only a small victory, but I agreed to it. We went downstairs and walked out to his car. Without either of us saying much, Rhys drove us to Bangles Diner and parked in a vacant spot near the front door. Before I could say anything to try and persuade him to change his mind and come with me, Rhys, acting like nothing extraordinary had happened, reached into the backseat for his textbook. "Are you sure? I'm buying."

"Terminally." Determined not to be derailed from what I wanted, treading lightly, I asked, "Are you really going to ignore what you just showed me for ... this?"

"Yeah."

"So, besides being chicken over the pictures, why are you doing a study group? Your grades are good."

"I promised to help out some of the others."

"Shouldn't they be in church? It's Sunday."

"If that's the case, shouldn't we be? We're the ones who saw the ghost."

"Ditch them and come with me instead."

"Absolutely. Then we can look for vampires and werewolves," he replied sarcastically. "What I want is to get some breakfast before everyone gets here."

"Rhys, I'll need your help. You know I don't know much about technology."

"Another good reason not to pursue this."

I dropped it. He clearly needed to be coaxed, and that would take some time. Accepting defeat for the time-being, I got out of the car when he did and walked with him into the semi-crowded diner. Looking for a place to sit, we turned when someone near the back called out, "Hey, Rhys! Over here!"

He looked at me. "You know, you can stay."

"I'd rather go and check out the vampire and werewolf theory in some of the cemeteries ... so if you want to change your mind, it's not too late." He looked at me dully. Smiling, I said, "Fine – go and make your brain sweat with all things dull and mundane."

"Okay, but if you find out you're having a test ..." He shrugged and added, "What sort of best friend would I be if I didn't at least offer?"

"A terrible one, but I don't." He didn't leave, but stood there, looking like he was waiting for me to say more. I sighed. "Okay, if I do, you'll be the first one I'll ask."

"Is that because I'm your best friend, or because you don't know anyone else?"

"It's because Amber's too busy with her self-love and people-hating. Now – go."

With a ridiculous, lopsided grin, Rhys went to join the study group where they sat, books open, talking and laughing amongst themselves. The guy who'd called to him said something and pointed to a page. Rhys sat down, opened his textbook – and within seconds, he was in deep.

It was inexplicable, but I suddenly felt shut out, like I'd intruded where I didn't belong.

"What are you doing here?"

I turned. Amber, with the same girl I'd seen during my walk on my first night in Mannix, was behind me. "Has Rhys finally come to his senses and dumped you ... and now you're all alone, even though you say you don't mind it?"

Not in the mood for a scene, and wondering if she'd heard what I'd just said about her, I replied, "Look Amber, we started off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry about what I said. Truce?"

"Is that groveling I hear? I thought you didn't do that, especially with me." With a sneering look of victory, she and the girl with her walked past me to a crowded booth and sat down.

Feeling like a fool for bothering to try to make amends, I left Rhys to his study group, and exited the diner and walked across the street to Ghostley's Electronics store. I went inside and a little bell mounted above the door tinkled overhead. The store was sizeable and filled with all sorts of cell phones and electronics, nothing that I'd imagine could be used on a ghost hunt. But to my right hung a bright pink neon sign over an open doorway ... The Paranormal Shop. Hopeful that I'd find something I could use to communicate with the dead, I walked over.

The room was smaller than the rest of the store, and oddly, a bit crowded. Locked display cases filled with ghost hunting equipment lined the walls, while tables filled with gadgets, all with unusual names, stood randomly placed on the sales floor.

"Can I help you?"

Caught off-guard, I turned. A man in his thirties, thin, with sandy blonde hair, and light blue eyes, was behind me. "Scare you?"

"No," I hastily answered. The irony that I'd been startled, in the middle of the day, in a ghost hunting store, because a human happened to suddenly be there, wasn't lost on me.

He grinned. "I have that effect on people. I'm Randy, the owner. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a recorder."

"Out for a good ghost hunt?"

Sidestepping his question, I said, "I need a recorder for school."

His smile changed from friendly to one that told me he knew I was lying. It was time to deal straight with him. "People actually claim to hear ghosts' voices?"

"Yep. All the time." He reached over to the closest table, picked up a recorder, and handed it to me. "This one's pretty useful, from what I've been told."

"Do you ghost hunt?" I asked.

"I'm not a believer, but I saw a spike in interest, so I added paranormal equipment to my store. Besides, with the last name Ghostley, it seemed a good fit. I also offer seasonal haunted, and off-season historical, tours. And while it's not the mainstay of my business, it's been moderately successful, especially for impulse buyers and curiosity thrill-seekers." With a sly look, he continued, "Helpful trivia ... no matter what you use this recorder for, it works well inside ... and outside." Before I could deny his not-so-subtle assumption, he quickly added, "Not to say that you'd use it for hunting the paranormal. But just in case you do, make sure you have plenty of batteries."

My interest piqued, I asked, "Why?"

"I hear ghosts like to feed off their energy."

I bought two packages of batteries and two recorders; one to use, and the other as a backup – or in case Rhys decided to come with me. Eager to test them out, I left. At first, I couldn't think of a good place to go where I could test out the recorders. But then, I thought of two places that might suffice ... two of the oldest, most historical, structures Mannix had. With their long-established roles in housing the dead, and the ghosts I'd already seen inside of Cortland Bridge, both the bridge and Cemetery Raven stood out. Because of their familiarity, it seemed plausible that the souls of those long-forgotten would naturally feel more comfortable in those surroundings ... maybe even enough to communicate with me.

Without any more hesitation, I headed in their direction, down the moderately busy sidewalk to the lesser populated end of the street. It was more than just wanting to hear a disembodied voice ... it was the knowledge that I could actually talk to a ghost and know, for sure, that a two-way communication was possible. It would be a step closer to speaking with my parents.

I kept my eyes averted from the funeral home as I passed it and entered through the wrought-iron gate, into Cemetery Raven. Standing still among the weeds, I looked around for the best place to start. But it was all the same sort of antiquated, abandoned, wasteland and not one place stood out over another. Deciding to start from the front and work my way toward the back, I double-checked to make sure that I was alone. Seeing that I was, I took out a recorder – and instantly felt silly. "If this turns out to be nothing and the investigation fails ..." I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. They existed – I'd seen ghosts and had spoken to them! Pushing aside my doubts, and hopeful that my suspicions about the old graveyard were correct, I turned on the recorder. "Is anyone here with me?"

I waited to give the spirits enough time to respond, but when I played it back, apart from some background noise of cars and a horn honking, mine was the only voice captured. I started recording again as I walked further back, calling out for someone to say a few words, or to show themselves.

After I'd wandered through the cemetery for a while without having captured a single disembodied voice, I shut off the recorder. I gazed around the graveyard. My assumption that Cemetery Raven, being as old as it was, should be haunted hadn't been justified. Devastated over the failed ghost hunt, I turned to leave. "I know for a fact that Cortland Bridge isn't the only haunted place in Mannix. I saw Mr. Kennerly at the funeral home, and everyone knows that cemeteries, especially the old ones, are supposed to be haunted – so, why can't I make contact?"

Then, a thought came to me. Of course contact hadn't been made – it was daylight! Immediately ditching the feeling of having unsuccessfully hunted the graveyard, I had renewed hope that Cemetery Raven, because it was an old burial ground, might be like the funeral home and something unexplainable might be found there, too! Suddenly, the investigation having been unsuccessful didn't feel as much of a letdown as it did a reason to return later that night and prove my theory correct!

Thunder boomed overhead. I looked up in time to see lightning flash in a zigzag pattern over the tops of the trees of the woods that made up the back of the cemetery. I'd been so preoccupied with trying to make mortal to immortal contact that I hadn't noticed a storm brewing. Hoping to make it home before the rain started, I stuffed the recorder into the bag and headed toward the exit. But just as I reached the gate, the sky opened up and it began to pour. I ran across the street and down the sidewalk.

I cut through Rhys' front yard to mine and clambered up the porch steps. I plunged my wet hand into my soaked pants' pocket and wrestled to pull out the key. Finally, I did. But before I could slip it into the lock, the door opened. With a broad grin, my aunt sang out, "Surprise!"

Rocked by the unexpectedness of it, I faltered, "Hi – what are you doing here?"

She stepped aside and I walked in. She closed the door against a strong gust of wind that blew some of the rain from outside into the foyer, adding to the puddle from what dripped off of me. "The trip ended early and I was worried about you, so now I'm home and all yours!" She hugged me and then quickly released me. "Go change into some dry clothes – then, I want to hear all about school."

Cursing under my breath, I went upstairs to my bedroom. With her being home, it would make my nighttime plans more difficult, maybe even delay them. "I wish she'd driven herself to the airport. At least, that way, it would make her 'homecoming' sneak attacks impossible."

I walked to my closet, picked out some fresh clothes, and carried them into the bathroom. I placed them onto the lowered toilet seat before starting the chore of shedding my wet garments. Once I'd finally peeled off the last piece of clothing, almost landing onto the floor in my struggle to get myself free of the left pant leg, I lay the jeans inside the tub and the shirt over the side of it so they could dry. I reached for the large towel, dried off, and then quickly dressed. Looking in the mirror, I ran my fingers through my dampened hair and then reluctantly went back downstairs before my aunt decided she was lonely and came upstairs to look for me.

She was sitting on the sofa, waiting. As I walked over, she beamed up at me and patted the cushion next to her. "Come and sit. Tell me about school. Do you have homework? Have you made any friends? Oh, before I forget – I'm making meat loaf."