Page 1 of Chasing Ghosts
Chapter One
Cori
Istand in the back, taking in everyone around me. These people are going to be my co-workers, my companions, the people I look at every day on an island with nobody else but us on it. These are the people who are supposed to be comfortable with the unusual and the ‘other’. We’re all here for the same thing, all waiting for the same person.
We all want answers. What goes bump in the night? Is life after death really a thing? Do ghosts really exist, and what are they exactly? Why do some people see things that aren’t there while others see nothing? I’ve been looking for answers since I was a kid.
I’ve never been like other people, never been…normal. When I was young, I used to talk to people who weren’t there. I saw stuff that no child should ever see, flashes of the past, hints of tragedy, whisps of things that couldn’t possibly be real. Thank God I had my grandmother. She made it not seem so…abnormal. She would sit with me and talk to me about the things I saw and heard and felt, but even she didn’t have a lot of answers.
Why me? Why can I see and hear what I do? All she could come up with is that it is something that passed from mother to child over and over again. She called it something special, agift. But my mother never thought of it as a gift, and I learned very early on that she was terrified of it…and me. It didn’t seem like much of a gift when it became too much for her sister to handle. Aunt Rachel couldn’t make it stop, couldn’t find any peace, and the ‘gift’ killed her. The coroner may have said it was self-inflicted, but we all understood it was because she couldn’t handle what was happening to her.
I don’t blame her. There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to run screaming from the things I’ve seen, things that can never be changed. My mother wasn’t so forgiving. She didn’t want to talk about what happened or her sister or this…thing we have ever again, and she didn’t want her daughter to go crazy like her sister did. She just ignored everything around her, all the knocks and sounds and cries for help. From them…and unfortunately, from me too.
While I do want answers, I refuse to be treated like a circus monkey for a better show or to get higher ratings, so I’ll be keeping my abilities a secret. No matter how much I respect the leader of this little project, I don’t want anyone to find out. As far as anyone here is concerned, I’m here in my capacity as a talented historian with an uncanny ability to discover things about the history of a place, or an object, better than almost anyone else.
“Hi. Are you another investigator?” A pretty redhead pops up beside me and takes me in with piercing green eyes.
“Um, sort of. I’m the historian.”
“Oh,” She giggles, “I thought you would be an old guy. You must be Cori Moore.”
She holds out her hand, and I shyly take it.
“I’m one of the investigators, Roxie Clark.”
“You were with Mac when he did his special last summer. At the jail.”
“Yeah. Do you know him? Mac?”
I shake my head. Not that I wouldn’t want to get to know him. He’s…pretty amazing, really. Smart, funny, and totally…hot!
And like a figment of my imagination, he pops through the door, and the room goes quiet, all heads turn his way. He moves to the front and addresses the room.
“Hello, everybody. I’m Mac Temple, and you are here to be part of Chasing Ghosts, the new paranormal show. Each of you is here because you’re the best of the best at what you do. I have degrees in history, archaeology, criminology, and journalism. I’ve always had a fascination with the paranormal and the unexplained and what could be ‘out there’. This is our chance to find out. The first thing I want to make very clear to everyone is that this is not going to be just another ghost-hunting show. I want to really dig deep and use the science we have at our disposal to find the answers I know have to be out there. I want this to work, and I want to create something we are all proud to put our names on.”
He runs his deep blue eyes over the room, and for just a moment, I think he might linger on me, but reality hits home when a pretty blonde steps in front of me. Guess he was looking at her instead.
“Damn, Riley, you think you can step over so we can see him, too?” Roxie hisses it out, but the woman in front of us doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to move.
Not that Roxy needs her to move since she’s a little taller than her. I, however, I’m lost behind the blonde.
“Just because you worked with him before doesn’t mean you have a design on him, Roxie. You had your chance. Clearly, he wasn’t impressed.”
“Is she still talking about working with him or…?”
The blonde in question turns to give me a death stare just before elbowing her way to the front, where Mac is coming off the little stage they set up at the front of the room for him.
“Who knows. Either way, she isn’t going to last long if she doesn’t keep it to herself a little more. Mac doesn’t put up with any of that shit. He doesn’t mix business with pleasure.”
“What’s he like?” Her brows go up. “To work for, I mean?”
“Oh, he’s strict. Serious when he needs to be, but fun too. We had a good time despite being in a rundown prison, and he didn’t treat me like I had to worry about him hitting on me. He's very professional.”
“Telling all my secrets, Roxie.” He offers her an easy smile.
“Just singing your praises, Mac.” They hug, and I can’t help but wonder if things were as professional as Roxie said they were. They would make a beautiful couple if they ever wanted to become less than professional. She, with her striking redhair, and he, with his tousled blonde hair, would make cute kids together, too. “This is my new friend, Cori. You two have something in common already. She’s a historian.”
His blue eyes lose some of the twinkle in them when his gaze rakes over me, “A historian? Cori. Cori Moore?”
