Page 26 of Thunder Road

“Any visiting nuns doing research?” Simon knew what he had seen. Mrs. Ames didn’t seem completely surprised.

“Some of the early monks and nuns were utterly committed to the university. It was their life’s work. As you know, that kind of bond can make it difficult to let go and move on.”

“So the university is haunted?” Simon pressed.

“Oh, yes. We welcome the sisterhood and brotherhood emeritus, as we call them,” Mrs. Ames said. “They are a cloud of witnesses and our protectors. We acknowledge and thank them on all formal occasions, and both students and faculty invoke their protection and support. The library has a few who we assume never wanted to leave their books behind.”

Simon described the ghostly nun he had seen, although her habit didn’t leave much for identifying details. “She was short and very slightly built. Quite elderly, with a thin face and high cheekbones.”

“Ah, you’ve met Sister Petroula.” Mrs. Ames nodded. “She helped to assemble the library and was so devoted to it that she often slept on a pallet in the office after late nights cataloging books. Rumor has it she had some magical abilities and wove protections around the books and the library to keep them safe. She probably sensed your talents and came to see why you were inherspace.”

“I hope I passed muster,” Simon replied. “And I like the idea of the library and university having a group of spirits protecting them. Please pass along my thanks to Sister Petroula for allowing me access.”

“She has a habit of making the water pipes bang if she disapproves, so we’d have heard by now. I think you passed.” Mrs. Ames laughed.

“I found a lot to think about,” Simon added. “I took pictures of the books so I know what to come back for. They’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

“Any time. We have several friends in common. I’ve wondered when you would finally find your way here,” she said with a mysterious wink.

Simon checked his watch and found himself looking forward to the Boo and Brew event, despite how much his normal work centered on ghosts and the supernatural. Simon didn’t have any difficulty separating the fictional ghosts and horror stories from the real paranormal. Sometimes people who didn’t believe in the supernatural meddled with things they didn’t understand and got hurt, but for most people Halloween was a time for beer, candy, costumes, and parties.

“Dinner’s ready,” Vic told him when he opened the door. “Spaghetti. Figured we’d eat early and then go check out the Boo and Brew.”

“Sounds wonderful. I’m starved—and I’d rather not completely fill up on bar food,” Simon replied, hanging up his jacket before he went to the table.

“And here I thought I’d have to start without you,” Vic teased.

“You must have come home early,” Simon replied, checking his watch.

“Oh, baby. I always come right on time.” Vic dropped his voice.

“I’ll take you up on that later,” Simon said.

“Count on it,” Vic flirted back.

They ate quickly and headed for the festival. Simon was just as happy to have time to process what he had learned at the library before trying to add it to their theories about the troll, and he resolved to enjoy the evening despite the case.

The Boo and Brew was a boardwalk party with music, chances to win prizes, and plenty of people in costume. All the drinks had horror-movie-inspired names, and most were green, purple, or orange for the occasion.

“What are you drinking?” Simon noted the concoction in Vic’s glass.

“It’s a Virtual Vampire. No clue what that means, but it tastes like a vodka martini with a little juice in it.”

Since they were walking home, Simon ordered a Zombie Brain Transplant, a mix of gin and something pink.

All the appetizers had been creatively renamed, and it took a moment to figure out the menu. They were regulars, so Simon trusted the bar’s food to be good, but he still wanted to know what was going to end up on his plate.

“Anything interesting happen today?” he asked Vic when they finally had their drinks, and there was a break in the music.

Vic shrugged. “Cap didn’t have anything else pressing for us to work on, so Ross and I are still looking into the disappearances. The pattern holds steady—people who were unhappy and wanted to escape.”

“Lots of people fit that description, but they move to a new town, get a tattoo, or buy a sportscar,” Simon pointed out. “They don’t completely and permanently vanish without a trace.”

Despite what Hollywood suggested, wiping away a person’s digital and real-life footprint wasn’t easy. Even espionage professionals didn’t always succeed. Dropping out of sight might have been simple before cameras, DNA, and social media, but the modern world meant a person’s movement could be tracked and recorded without them knowing, removing the evidence from their ability to erase.

“I don’t think the trolls are eating people,” Simon remarked as he took a mozzarella stick—called a zombie finger in the event menu—and dipped it in sauce. “I think they gain from an energy exchange when a person crosses the threshold between here and there, but they aren’t literally consuming humans.” He told Vic about what he had found out regarding other ways trolls could cause harm short of killing someone.

“Knocking down walls?” Vic echoed.

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