and in her place stood a much younger woman whose hair fell in soft waves around a lovely face. Thank you.
She turned back to the light and took a step. Sunny briefly felt her intense joy before the light went out.
She loved her job.
Chapter Four
Jordan nearly spilled her beer when Steve jumped off the couch. “Where’s my flag?” he yelled. “What are you, blind?”
Jordan laughed and moved the potato chip bag to safety. “Ain’t no flag, son. The Niners are kicking your ass!”
Steve turned, horror clearly visible on his face. “Where’s your loyalty?”
Jordan held up her hand. “Hey, born in San Francisco, nineteen seventy-nine.”
“Oh,” he said. “Now, that’s just wrong. Go home.”
Jordan raised her eyebrows and tipped her bottle at him before setting it back down on the coffee table. At halftime, the 49ers were a touchdown ahead of the Seahawks, and Steve left to use the bathroom. Jordan looked around the mostly cleaned-up apartment from her perch on the couch. At least he had made an effort.
It was still a far cry from her obsessively clean rooms, but it was comfortable. She reached for her beer, and her hand stopped in midair as she watched the bottle slide four inches to the right. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she pulled back. It must be the condensation on the bottom of the bottle. Of course .
Steve returned. “What’s wrong with you, traitor?”
Jordan snagged her beer off the table. “Nothing, loser.”
They traded insults for a few minutes during the halftime show until Jordan had to use the bathroom herself. She was half-tempted to go across the hall to use her own. Who knew what strange creatures were growing in Steve’s?
Feeling a little stupid, she forced herself into his. It wasn’t too bad. He’d clearly put some effort in here as well. She liked Steve. He was a good guy. A little annoying, but friendly enough. Every time she tried to push him away, he reminded her he’d seen her underwear. Good thing it was in a little brother way or else she would have kicked his ass already. Jordan stood at the sink to wash her hands. Her right palm tingled and felt hot, but without burning. It had been doing that off and on since the night she met the granola girl and her merry band of flakes. Ghost hunters. Please. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that woman? And why did she feel as if she were missing something important? Irritated with herself, she dried her hands on the small towel in an attempt to wipe off the heat and the memory at the same time.
*
Sunny received information from her spirit guides early in the morning, and it turned the simple Singer investigation into something much more personal than just a house haunting. After discussing the message with Shade and Tiffany, she decided to bring the information to the Singers on her own. It was a touchy situation and sure to be emotional for the couple.
Hollywood and religious dogma had attached so much fear to the phenomenon of ghosts that the whole psychology of it had to be addressed, and each client brought a different set of beliefs that had to be addressed.
Sunny knew how fortunate she was that her parents were so open to universal energy. She’d never had to contend with any of the religious stigma attached to her psychic abilities. In fact, they were encouraged at all opportunities. Her father had his own gifts and had written several books on paranormal research years before it was fashionable or in vogue. He found a kindred soul in her mother. They were a pioneering force, way ahead of their time in the field, and her father’s books were still in print over twenty years later.
Sunny blew an imaginary kiss to her dad before she gathered up the file and her laptop. It was better to go to them on their own home turf, especially after they heard what she was going to say.
She pulled into their driveway, and after noticing that the husband’s vehicle was gone, Sunny
She turned back to the light and took a step. Sunny briefly felt her intense joy before the light went out.
She loved her job.
Chapter Four
Jordan nearly spilled her beer when Steve jumped off the couch. “Where’s my flag?” he yelled. “What are you, blind?”
Jordan laughed and moved the potato chip bag to safety. “Ain’t no flag, son. The Niners are kicking your ass!”
Steve turned, horror clearly visible on his face. “Where’s your loyalty?”
Jordan held up her hand. “Hey, born in San Francisco, nineteen seventy-nine.”
“Oh,” he said. “Now, that’s just wrong. Go home.”
Jordan raised her eyebrows and tipped her bottle at him before setting it back down on the coffee table. At halftime, the 49ers were a touchdown ahead of the Seahawks, and Steve left to use the bathroom. Jordan looked around the mostly cleaned-up apartment from her perch on the couch. At least he had made an effort.
It was still a far cry from her obsessively clean rooms, but it was comfortable. She reached for her beer, and her hand stopped in midair as she watched the bottle slide four inches to the right. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she pulled back. It must be the condensation on the bottom of the bottle. Of course .
Steve returned. “What’s wrong with you, traitor?”
Jordan snagged her beer off the table. “Nothing, loser.”
They traded insults for a few minutes during the halftime show until Jordan had to use the bathroom herself. She was half-tempted to go across the hall to use her own. Who knew what strange creatures were growing in Steve’s?
Feeling a little stupid, she forced herself into his. It wasn’t too bad. He’d clearly put some effort in here as well. She liked Steve. He was a good guy. A little annoying, but friendly enough. Every time she tried to push him away, he reminded her he’d seen her underwear. Good thing it was in a little brother way or else she would have kicked his ass already. Jordan stood at the sink to wash her hands. Her right palm tingled and felt hot, but without burning. It had been doing that off and on since the night she met the granola girl and her merry band of flakes. Ghost hunters. Please. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that woman? And why did she feel as if she were missing something important? Irritated with herself, she dried her hands on the small towel in an attempt to wipe off the heat and the memory at the same time.
*
Sunny received information from her spirit guides early in the morning, and it turned the simple Singer investigation into something much more personal than just a house haunting. After discussing the message with Shade and Tiffany, she decided to bring the information to the Singers on her own. It was a touchy situation and sure to be emotional for the couple.
Hollywood and religious dogma had attached so much fear to the phenomenon of ghosts that the whole psychology of it had to be addressed, and each client brought a different set of beliefs that had to be addressed.
Sunny knew how fortunate she was that her parents were so open to universal energy. She’d never had to contend with any of the religious stigma attached to her psychic abilities. In fact, they were encouraged at all opportunities. Her father had his own gifts and had written several books on paranormal research years before it was fashionable or in vogue. He found a kindred soul in her mother. They were a pioneering force, way ahead of their time in the field, and her father’s books were still in print over twenty years later.
Sunny blew an imaginary kiss to her dad before she gathered up the file and her laptop. It was better to go to them on their own home turf, especially after they heard what she was going to say.
She pulled into their driveway, and after noticing that the husband’s vehicle was gone, Sunny
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