posted.”
“Will do,” Mark promised.
The meeting broke up. Mark put Bill’s letter and case file back in the envelope. He tucked it under his arm.
His brother came to stand beside him. “You okay?” Mike asked.
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Mostly. I just hate to think of that kid all on his own. We saw some pretty freaky stuff when we were kids.”
“We did,” Mike agreed. “But we got through it.”
“I know. That’s why I have to help him. Even if the team can’t take the case. Even if I can’t make the ghosts go away. I want Bill to know he’s not alone in this. He’s got solid backup.”
The brothers fell silent. Both were thinking of their unusual childhood growing up in a haunted house.
“Well,” Mike finally said. He poked Mark in the gut with his index finger. “After that burger and fries you had for lunch, I’d say you’ve got the
solid
part covered.”
“You’re the one who had the chocolate shake,” Mark came right back. “Not to mention you ate most of my fries.”
The brothers grinned at each other.
“You need any backup yourself, you let me know,” Mike said.
“Thanks. I’ll do that,” Mark replied.
“Where are you going to start?” Mike asked.
“Easy,” Mark said. “I’m going to go back in time.”
“It’s got to be here,” Mark muttered several days later. He was working late at the office. Mark rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He felt as if he had been staring at the computer screen forever.
“Who are these ghosts?” he asked himself. “What are they doing in Bill’s house? There’s got to be an explanation. There’s got to be
something
in the past.”
He hadn’t found it so far.
Mark stopped staring at the computer and stared at Bill’s letter instead. He kept it right beside him on the desk. To remind him of why he shouldn’t give up—why he should keep on going.
I’m not just some kid who’s scared of the dark. Though I am. Kind of. Don’t tell anyone.
That’s what Bill had said. But Mark knew exactly what he meant.
Bill is more than scared,
Mark thought.
Bill Turner is terrified. And it won’t get any better—until I find a way to help him.
Mark’s gaze strayed to the stack of papers beside Bill’s letter. The pile was enormous. Doing the research on where the Turners lived was actually sort of fun. Mark loved going back to the historical record. He loved finding answers in the past when the present stumped everyone else.
Trouble was, both past
and
present were stumping him now.
It wasn’t that the ghosts kept doing the same thing over and over. Mark had seen cases like that before. Not very often, but there were quite a few in the TAPS files. There was one big difference in this case. The spirits in those hauntings had all their body parts.
Why don’t the ghosts in Bill Turner’s house have any legs?
Mark wondered.
There had to be a reason. Mark was sure of it. So why couldn’t he find one?
He pawed through the papers impatiently. Some tumbled off the table and fell to the floor. Mark ignored them.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Come on, what’s the answer?”
He pulled out a paper from the very bottom of the stack.
Go back to the beginning,
he thought. Mark began his search with anold map. It showed what the area where Bill Turner now lived used to look like. Once the whole area was farm country. One big farm, in fact. The original farmhouse stood in the same spot as Bill’s house.
The farmhouse,
Mark thought. He shuffled through the papers again. He pulled out a second map. This one showed the floor plan of the original farmhouse.
Mark ran his finger through the rooms, as if he were trying to find his way through a maze. Through the front door and into the downstairs hall. Then up a flight of stairs to the second floor.
If Bill lived in the old farmhouse,
Mark thought,
his bedroom would be right at the end of the hall. Right
there.
Mark’s finger froze. His heart began to pound.
Wait a minute. Wait just a
“Will do,” Mark promised.
The meeting broke up. Mark put Bill’s letter and case file back in the envelope. He tucked it under his arm.
His brother came to stand beside him. “You okay?” Mike asked.
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Mostly. I just hate to think of that kid all on his own. We saw some pretty freaky stuff when we were kids.”
“We did,” Mike agreed. “But we got through it.”
“I know. That’s why I have to help him. Even if the team can’t take the case. Even if I can’t make the ghosts go away. I want Bill to know he’s not alone in this. He’s got solid backup.”
The brothers fell silent. Both were thinking of their unusual childhood growing up in a haunted house.
“Well,” Mike finally said. He poked Mark in the gut with his index finger. “After that burger and fries you had for lunch, I’d say you’ve got the
solid
part covered.”
“You’re the one who had the chocolate shake,” Mark came right back. “Not to mention you ate most of my fries.”
The brothers grinned at each other.
“You need any backup yourself, you let me know,” Mike said.
“Thanks. I’ll do that,” Mark replied.
“Where are you going to start?” Mike asked.
“Easy,” Mark said. “I’m going to go back in time.”
“It’s got to be here,” Mark muttered several days later. He was working late at the office. Mark rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He felt as if he had been staring at the computer screen forever.
“Who are these ghosts?” he asked himself. “What are they doing in Bill’s house? There’s got to be an explanation. There’s got to be
something
in the past.”
He hadn’t found it so far.
Mark stopped staring at the computer and stared at Bill’s letter instead. He kept it right beside him on the desk. To remind him of why he shouldn’t give up—why he should keep on going.
I’m not just some kid who’s scared of the dark. Though I am. Kind of. Don’t tell anyone.
That’s what Bill had said. But Mark knew exactly what he meant.
Bill is more than scared,
Mark thought.
Bill Turner is terrified. And it won’t get any better—until I find a way to help him.
Mark’s gaze strayed to the stack of papers beside Bill’s letter. The pile was enormous. Doing the research on where the Turners lived was actually sort of fun. Mark loved going back to the historical record. He loved finding answers in the past when the present stumped everyone else.
Trouble was, both past
and
present were stumping him now.
It wasn’t that the ghosts kept doing the same thing over and over. Mark had seen cases like that before. Not very often, but there were quite a few in the TAPS files. There was one big difference in this case. The spirits in those hauntings had all their body parts.
Why don’t the ghosts in Bill Turner’s house have any legs?
Mark wondered.
There had to be a reason. Mark was sure of it. So why couldn’t he find one?
He pawed through the papers impatiently. Some tumbled off the table and fell to the floor. Mark ignored them.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Come on, what’s the answer?”
He pulled out a paper from the very bottom of the stack.
Go back to the beginning,
he thought. Mark began his search with anold map. It showed what the area where Bill Turner now lived used to look like. Once the whole area was farm country. One big farm, in fact. The original farmhouse stood in the same spot as Bill’s house.
The farmhouse,
Mark thought. He shuffled through the papers again. He pulled out a second map. This one showed the floor plan of the original farmhouse.
Mark ran his finger through the rooms, as if he were trying to find his way through a maze. Through the front door and into the downstairs hall. Then up a flight of stairs to the second floor.
If Bill lived in the old farmhouse,
Mark thought,
his bedroom would be right at the end of the hall. Right
there.
Mark’s finger froze. His heart began to pound.
Wait a minute. Wait just a
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