 
### HAUNTING INJUSTICE:

A PHOENIX WORTHY STORY

by

Mickey Mills

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Mickey Mills on Smashwords

HAUNTING INJUSTICE:

A PHOENIX WORTHY STORY

Copyright © 2011 by Mickey Mills

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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# DEDICATION:

To Tom and Maxine Mills, the people who had the least to do with my writing development, but had the most to do with the path I chose. If they could only see me now...

To Debi, who planted the seed that grew into Phoenix Worthy and friends. I will forever be in your debt.

To everyone else who got behind and pushed me along on those days I couldn't write a post-it note, much less a book, my sincere gratitude is punctuated by getting this novel published. Your encouragement meant the world to me.

* * * * *

# Prologue

Janet McKenzie was a good wife and the mother of two teenage boys. She married her first love just after graduating from Florida State University. She was highly respected in her community, her church, and the high school where she taught U.S. History to unappreciative, inattentive teenagers. None of these things would prevent her death.

The muffled sounds of blood gurgling in her throat grew weaker with each passing moment. Knife wounds along her midsection and neck ensured she would soon die, lying face down in the middle of her living room, her frightened stare fixed on a bloody blade and the gloved hand holding it. She focused on the knife as it fell to the floor beside her and stuck in the carpet, its handle straight up. The terror in her eyes was the only scream she could manage.

Standing nearby, her killer savored the moment as he watched her struggle to breathe, her life draining away with each ounce of blood spilling onto the carpeted floor. The attack had been a cold and calculated act with no compassion for her, the children she would leave behind, or the husband who would soon find her cold, bloody body. The back door gently closed as her killer escaped into the morning fog.

It was nearly 8:30 in the morning. Her husband would be home soon. Chance McKenzie had worked nightshift security at a chemical plant in the adjacent county for the last seven years. His daily routine meant he was only a few minutes away from completely turning his life upside down.

Chance was singing along to Jethro Tull on the radio as he turned the corner onto Cardinal Court. After a long late shift, the only way he kept from falling asleep was by belting out classic rock and roll songs. His talent was not for singing but for knowing all the words. He turned into his driveway and brought the truck to a quick stop, barely missing his oldest son's bicycle lying in the driveway near the front of the house.

"Damned kid, I told him to pick that up last night before I left."

He pressed the button on the garage remote clipped to the visor. The soft hum of the electric motor and the rattle of the chain broke the silence of the North Florida morning. As the heavy door slowly lifted off the concrete slab, he grabbed the bicycle, rolled it inside, and lifted it into the wall hooks where it belonged.

He opened the door leading to their kitchen. "Janet!" he shouted and walked inside. An egg carton and a package of bacon sat on the countertop; the smell of burning grease filled the air. Heavy smoke poured from a smoldering pan on the stovetop. He turned off the hot eye and moved the pan from the still glowing cooking surface. I wonder what is wrong with the smoke detectors, he thought.

"Janet, are you trying to burn the house down?" He turned the corner into the living room and stopped suddenly, jolted by the horrific scene of his wife lying in a pool of dark blood.

"Oh my God, Janet!"

Rushing over to her lifeless body, he pulled her against him and started screaming, "Oh, my God... my God!" He clutched his dead wife against his chest and cried with his eyes closed for a few seconds before opening them to see his hunting knife, stained with blood, stuck in the floor beside her. The grim reality of the situation slowly sank in as he gingerly lowered her back to the floor. After taking a couple of moments to catch his breath and calm down, he stood and walked over to the phone knowing he had to call the police.

He held the handset for a few seconds trying to put together in his mind what he would say when they answered. The memories of their recent domestic issues and the involvement of family services would not look good as an investigation unfolded. He began to consider the possibility some people might suspect he had killed Janet. That could not be possible, he thought and quickly dialed 9-1-1.

The operator answered and in a panicky voice he shouted, "This is Chance McKenzie at Four Seventeen Cardinal Court." After a short pause, he continued, "I just got home from work and found my wife dead! Please send somebody!"

* * * * *

Chance McKenzie was right about one thing. Many people in the community that he had known all his life believed he was guilty of his wife's murder. He never considered how few would believe he was innocent. Nine months later, in a trial lasting barely two weeks, he was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life in prison. Although the prosecutor's case was based mostly on circumstantial evidence, the jury returned its verdict in less than three hours. Not quite two months into his sentence he was assaulted by another inmate. Chance McKenzie took a jailhouse knife to his abdomen and died in the prison hospital two hours later.

# Chapter 1 - A Chance Visit

Howard Wallace had been the lead prosecutor in Chance McKenzie's murder trial. He sipped his cup of coffee and scanned the top story in the morning paper. The headline read: Inmate Dies in Prison Yard Stabbing. He swept through the details of the article and thought back to the telephone conversation the previous afternoon with the warden of Central Prison. Chance McKenzie had been viciously attacked by another inmate and died in the prison hospital. The attacker turned out to be a distant cousin of Janet McKenzie.

The prosecutor was relieved that the upcoming defense appeal was now a moot issue. No prosecuting attorney liked retrying cases and Howard Wallace was no different. As a seasoned prosecutor for the Leon County District Attorney's office, he knew that an appeal meant vigorous scrutiny by the State Appeals court. Considering the defense, or lack thereof, the McKenzie case would surely come back.

A first-degree murder indictment was not normally brought to trial so quickly, but, with election year politics in full swing, the DA drove the swiftness of justice and the judge's gavel fell exactly nine months after McKenzie was charged with the crime. The highly publicized trial took less than two weeks and ended with a guilty verdict. The District Attorney got her headlines and parlayed her "tough on crime" stance to another term in office. McKenzie went to prison for life, which turned out to be about three months.

Opening the case file, Howard placed the press clipping from the morning paper on top and closed it. He stood up and walked over to the cabinet where the file would reside until the one-year hold period expired. The folder and its contents would then move out to central archives to be held for another seven years and destroyed after clerks copied everything to film and computer storage.

He shoved the file into the case folder and pushed against the heavy drawer. It slid shut and latched with a loud click. Grabbing his coffee cup, Howard strolled down the hall for a refill. Pat, the assistant to the D.A., used a finely ground Kona with a perfect hint of hazelnut flavoring. The fact that a small prosecutor's office provided such a fine coffee free of charge was a very nice perk that he took constant advantage of.

Along the way he stopped to discuss a current case with an assistant prosecutor, but the conversation instantly turned to the McKenzie murder. It only got worse from there. At every stop between his office and the coffee pot was some question or comment about the events at the prison. "What do you think about McKenzie's stabbing?" or "Did you know the other inmate?" or "Lucky for you there won't be an appeal now."

He didn't like hearing this stuff, much less responding to it. His reply was a subdued lawyerly grunt, followed by the view of his back as he continued down the hall.

Returning to his office Howard was shocked to find the McKenzie file back on his desk and opened to the crime scene photographs. The pictures of Janet McKenzie lying face down in her own blood always gave him pause. He stepped back into the hallway and surveyed the array of cubicles and offices along the exterior wall. This had to be another practical joke commonplace in the D.A.'s office. He didn't like it much and, considering Chance's death was just the previous day, he thought it bordered on bad taste. Still, it was a pretty good trick. He considered who might be yanking his chain this time.

It's got to be Donna Ingram, he thought. She still owes me one for screwing with the docket last month and making her late for that important outing with her Sorority sisters. He placed the file back in the cabinet and walked straight to his associate's office. He looked in and saw her empty leather chair sitting behind an uncluttered desk. He turned and asked her assistant, "Where's Ingram?"

"She's in court this morning on closing argument. After that she has a dentist appointment this afternoon. I don't expect her back today," was the reply.

Howard looked puzzled and simply said, "Thanks." He remembered talking with her yesterday about the closing arguments in this case. He strolled back to his office, pondering the mystery of the moving file. A sick feeling grew in his stomach as he walked into his office and found the McKenzie file, not in the file cabinet where he had placed it just a few moments before, but laid out on his desk in exactly the same position as he had found it the first time. Seeing the same gruesome pictures again under these circumstances was especially haunting.

He started thinking through the list of potential suspects with the motives and opportunities for this mystery. Walking through the office, he asked several people what they knew about it, but at each stop nobody seemed to know anything. As a matter of fact, some were even skeptical about a case file moving by itself as the prosecutor described. At least one of them suggested he was in the midst of instigating some clever practical joke himself.

Shaken to his core, he returned the file to the cabinet one more time and thought, the hell with this, I'm going for an early lunch. He grabbed his coat and headed down the hall. Just a few steps from his office, he remembered leaving his cell phone on his desk and went back to retrieve it. He stopped cold in his tracks just inside his office and gasped for air. The file was once more lying open on his desktop.

He walked around the desk and slowly slid down into his big leather chair. Nervous eyes and a churning stomach betrayed the confusion and fear coursing through his thoughts. He looked at the file and the photos of Janet McKenzie clipped on the open page. It was like a trip down the rabbit hole and nothing made sense. His mind raced at the possibilities.

Suddenly a rush of cold air hit him like a slap in the face, drawing away his precious body heat in slow increments of temperature and chill. His breath began to fog like a camper on a chilly night. It flowed from his mouth with each fall of his chest. He intuitively knew he was not alone. Fear gripped him like a firm hand. He pushed the big chair away from the desk, picked up his cell phone, and quietly left the building. Once outside he was surprised to find the battery in his phone as dead as disco.

Howard did not return to his office. The unexplained movement of the McKenzie file, still open on his desk to the gruesome crime scene photos, consumed his every thought. Although he did not believe in ghosts, there was no reasonable explanation for the harsh coldness surrounding his body back in the office. If dead felt anything like that, he wanted no part of it.

He drove the thirteen miles to his pristine country club home on the outskirts of the city and headed straight for the liquor cabinet in the corner of his small office. There was barely enough space for a desk and a bookcase, but he still managed to squeeze in a well-stocked bar. He poured a double shot of Jack Daniels into an empty highball glass and took a small taste. The next sip became a big gulp as he tossed the remainder of the Tennessee whiskey into the back of his throat. He poured another large shot into the glass and moved to sit down behind his small wooden desk. All he could think about was Chance McKenzie.

Howard thought back to the moving file from earlier in the day, examined every aspect of what he saw, and felt more confused than ever. If this is someone's joke, there is going to be hell to pay.

The morning paper was still open on his desk. He glanced over the news article about McKenzie's prison yard stabbing and started considering the possibility that something supernatural was at the root of the bizarre circumstances. He dismissed that thought as mild insanity.

Howard reached across the desk and opened a small box containing several business cards accumulated through the years from family, friends, and associates. Thumbing through the little slices of cardboard, he pulled a slightly worn card from the box. It read: Phoenix Rising Investigations, Phoenix Worthy – Paranormal Investigator.

After a short pause, he lifted the phone to his ear and began to dial the number listed for his old friend. Just as he was about to touch the last number, he stopped. Rethinking the events of the morning, he slowly placed the handset back into the cradle. I'll wait and see how things are tomorrow, after I talk to Ingram. If it's still this screwy, I'll call him then, he justified.

His thoughts drifted back to his college days when he first met and developed a friendship with Phoenix Worthy. They were students at the University of Georgia where they played baseball on the varsity team and shared a dorm room for three years. The lanky infielder had enough talent to be a starter at UGA but clearly not enough to for a professional baseball career. It had been too long since he had last seen or talked with Phoenix.

With the effect of the Jack Daniels beginning to do its thing, he closed his eyes and thought back to that spring baseball tournament so many years ago. The Georgia team had put itself into contention to go to the College World Series in Omaha. Many of the old alumni came out to the game to show their support. Sitting in the stands watching the warm-ups, he saw Phoenix step out onto the concourse and begin to scan the crowd searching for friendly faces.

"Phoenix," Howard stood and shouted. "Over here!"

His old roommate shielded his eyes from the bright glare of the afternoon Athens, Georgia sun and turned his head in the direction of the shout. Howard stood near the top row, waving his arms high in the air and pointing to the empty seat to his right. Phoenix trudged up the aisle of the weathered wooden bleachers, the old boards creaking with each step. Peanut shells scattered along the walkway crunched beneath his feet. The loud pop of a wooden bat connecting with a fastball drew the cheering fans to their feet. Phoenix turned in time to see an outfielder watch the ball sail over his head into the emptiness beyond. His alma mater went up one to nothing.

Tennessee had bested Vanderbilt six to four in the early game. Now, if Georgia could just get past Auburn and then beat Tennessee, it would be off to Omaha for his old college team.

Phoenix continued to climb the bleachers to where his friend stood waiting. Howard pulled him close for a quick embrace and a slap on the back, completing the reunion. He studied the look in his friend's eyes and thought, where is that old twinkle? Phoenix used to broadcast a look: things are right with the world and nothing can get in his way. The fearless confidence had been replaced by a quiet pain, yet something else seemed missing. Perhaps it was nothing or maybe it was everything. They had been best friends in college, but today he sensed a distance from his old friend. He shook his hand and said, "Damn, Phoenix, it's been way too long."

"Hi Howard - good to see you too." They sat down beside each other.

"Let me buy you a beer," Howard said and shouted at the attendant, milling about the bleachers with a small keg strapped to his back and a stack of plastics cups in his hand.

"No, thanks, but I can't."

Howard didn't pursue it any further. He had heard a bit about the things going on in his friend's life. The drinking part did not surprise him. Many nights he would guide a drunken Phoenix back into his dorm room after a game winning celebration or a round of drinks to heal the pain of losing one. Knowing Phoenix like he did, he decided to let it drop... for the time being.

They sat on the wooden bench and watched the game for a while without speaking. In the bottom of the second inning, Howard leaned over and asked, "So tell me, Phee, what's been going on with you these days?"

Phoenix sat there cracking peanuts and sipping on a soft drink. After a short pause he replied, "I know you heard about it. Sometimes it all seems like a bad dream. When I left college and took that counselor's job up in Milledgeville, I figured we'd be set for life. I never saw it coming and Cheryl was never one to talk about stuff. My work just sort of took over. I was gone more and more and home less and less."

Howard remembered Cheryl Westbrook, the beautiful cheerleader who married Phoenix in his senior year. They had been an item since their sophomore year and he remembered how much in love they were. The only thing his friend talked about besides baseball and college was a girl named Cheryl.

"Then she got pregnant with Denise, and things turned around for awhile. After the baby was born I slowly fell back into work again. My patients were beginning to define who I was. Before long, Cheryl and the baby became a second thought."

Howard listened to his friend. The game around them, the Georgia fans, the hot dog venders and the soda jerks were like a silent movie, as Phoenix stared at his shoes and revealed the dark spots of his soul.

Howard reached over, put his hand on his friend's arm and asked, "Are you okay?"

Phoenix lifted his head and replied, "Yeah, I suppose I am." He stared at the outfield for a few seconds before continuing. "After the divorce, I started drinking more and more. I felt like such a failure and, after awhile, I just didn't care. If it wasn't for a mutual friend who had gone through the same thing, I might not have made it. Cheryl called him and asked if he would help me out. Without hesitation the ol' boy came to Savannah and made me see what I was becoming and where I was headed."

Howard listened as his friend continued. "I've been sober for a while now and things are looking better. I have some focus in my life." Phoenix reached up and cleared the tiny patches of moisture from his eyes. He looked over at Howard and said, "Damn, I don't know where that came from. I guess being here with you carried me back to happier days. Sorry for dumping."

Howard stared directly into Phoenix's dark eyes before he burst out laughing, "My friend, I am just glad you're here." He continued in a low voice, "I heard some of it from others, but I am glad to hear it coming from you. Never hesitate to call me if you ever need anything. Hell, I might have to call you for help some day."

How ironic, Howard thought, raising the almost empty glass back to his lips and taking another big swig of Tennessee whiskey. Maybe that day has finally arrived.

* * * * *

The next morning Howard returned to his office anxious to unravel the riddle of the moving file. The uncomfortable thoughts of the previous evening were gone, replaced with a renewed determination. There had to be a logical explanation. He would find the guilty party and lay down a wrath previously unknown in the history of the District Attorney's office.

Turning the corner into his office, the first thing he noticed was the extreme cold, easily ten degrees cooler than the hallway outside. The range of temperature difference caused the windows to fog with a thick layer of condensation.

His eyes fixed on the lower right corner of the window. The words, "I'M INNOCENT," were being crookedly traced into the dew by some unseen hand. It was a statement he had heard many times over the past several months. At every meeting with McKenzie in the days leading up to the trial and on the day of his sentencing, these were the exact words Chance used to begin any conversation.

Howard stood there, gripped with fear and indecision. The scene ripped the rug from underneath his lifelong convictions. Howard believed all things paranormal were made up by charlatans and quacks for personal gain or to satisfy some need to con others. The chill of the room touched him at his core and he reached for the phone to dial a number he had dedicated to memory. A gruff voice answered on the other end, "Maintenance."

"This is Howard Wallace in the D.A.'s office. Something is wrong with the heat up here. Send someone up to check it out, and be quick about it."

Without waiting for confirmation from the maintenance chief, he returned the phone to its cradle. He could not take his eyes off the words scribed into the dew collected on the cold glass. Driven by the instincts of a legal mind, he reached into his bottom drawer, pulled out a digital camera and snapped a picture of the writing from three different angles.

He dug around in his pockets searching for the card he had stuffed there the night before. The next call would be to his friend, Phoenix Worthy. His heart skipped a beat and his every nerve was jolted when the phone rang, breaking the eerie silence of the morning. He lifted the receiver to his ear and answered, "Wallace!"

Sheriff Doug Clayton's voice boomed on the other end. "Hey Howard, I heard about that thing with the McKenzie file yesterday. You'd better get over here. There is something in my office you need to see."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he replied, and hung up.

The prosecutor snapped off a few more pictures of the writing, the file and the file cabinet before pulling a Kleenex from its box and wiping the words from the window. He did not need to hear the questions these words would bring from anyone who happened to see them.

He stopped the maintenance guy coming up the steps and said, "See what you can do about the heat. It is so damned cold in my office. Oh, and if the heat seems to be working like it's supposed to, just keep that between us, okay?"

The technician looked at the lawyer as if he had a wart on his nose and said, "Sure thing, Mr. Wallace. If there is something wrong, I'll find it."

"Right," was the only response Howard could muster as he turned and headed out the back door of the office building. He climbed into his truck and drove the three miles down Pensacola St., past Doak Campbell Stadium, to the Leon County Sheriff's office. His thoughts were more on Chance McKenzie than the drive and he barely missed a small red Honda pulling out from an alleyway. "Idiot," Howard muttered in response, and turned his attention back to the busy street.

He pulled into the compound and found an empty parking spot. The short walk to the Sheriff's office, where he and three of his deputies stood around Doug Clayton's desk chattering with excited voices, took less than three minutes. Lying open on the desktop was an arrest file with a big knife stuck through it, plunged deep into the desk's surface. It was the Janet McKenzie murder weapon.

"What do you make of that, Howard?" asked the Sheriff as he pointed to the file.

Howard reached up, scratched his head, and walked around, studying the odd display. After a few seconds he stopped and said, "Hell, Doug, I don't know. You tell me."

Sheriff Clayton continued, "I found this just like you see it when I came in this morning. I heard about your situation with the McKenzie file yesterday, so you were the first person I called."

"Oh? And, where did you hear such a thing?"

"You know you can't keep a secret around this place. Pat told me about it yesterday. She heard it from Donna Ingram's secretary. The whole office is abuzz with talk of ghosts and evil spirits," chuckled the sheriff. "If you ask me, somebody is screwing with us and I damn sure don't like it."

Howard decided not to discuss with the sheriff anything about his eerie experience earlier that morning. Doug would probably not have believed it anyway.

After pondering the situation for a few moments Howard said, "Okay Doug, here is what I want you to do. Until we find something otherwise, I want to treat this as a case of vandalism or tampering with evidence.

"Leave everything like it is and move into another office until we can find out who is responsible." Or what's responsible, he thought. "I'm going to get an investigator outside the Sheriff's office to look into it."

"Damn, Howard, do you really think that's necessary?" Doug Clayton tried desperately to hide his displeasure with Howard's plan. Bringing someone in from another department would be expensive and out of his control. A third party investigation would be a pain in his ass. Besides, he liked his comfortable space and knew there was not another good office available.

"We don't have a choice, Doug. This is very unusual and I am going to find out what's going on. We have to minimize the possibility someone will perceive a cover-up from within. I want you to lock your office and seal it until I can get an investigator over here." In the back of his mind, he already knew who that would be. "Nobody comes in here until then," he added.

"I need to grab a few things related to other cases I am working," the Sheriff said, as he collected a thin set of files from his inbox. The rest of the deputies headed off down the hall. Sheriff Clayton locked the door behind him, handed the key to the prosecutor, and said, "Call me on my cell if you need me."

The sheriff turned and headed down the hall, yelling for his assistant, "Patty! You need to find me another place to work for a few days."

Howard chuckled when he realized the Sheriff's office would be a very unfriendly working environment over the next week or so. When the Sheriff was unhappy, nobody was happy.

After the drive back to the DA's office Howard entered the back door of the building. A fine layer of Florida sand always found its way inside and collected on the back steps. More than once he had lost his footing climbing the stairs without proper caution. When he neared the second floor, the maintenance mechanic was coming back out.

"I checked the system, Mr. Wallace. Everything is working just fine. I can't understand why it's so cold in your office. I checked everything. I thought maybe there was a clogged vent or dirty filter on the return, but everything checked out."

None of this surprised the prosecutor. "Do me a favor and do not discuss this with anybody."

"Sure thing. Whatever you say, Mr. Wallace," said the young technician as he used his fingers and simulated zipping his mouth. "Mum's the word."

Howard was confident that by the end of the day the whole town would be abuzz with talk of ghosts, or worse, a haunting in the District Attorney's office.

He walked back to his desk and watched his breath turn immediately to fog, indicating the depth of chill remaining in his office. It felt much colder than anywhere else around. He grabbed his jacket and keys, closed and locked the door, and walked down the hall. He would need the privacy offered by the empty conference room while making the next call. He shut the door behind him and sat at the big table.

He dug into his jacket pockets until finding the small card he had stuffed there the night before. The lights were low and the card was worn; he squinted to read the telephone number. The vision of the words he watched materialize on the glass an hour earlier still haunted him and he hoped his friend Phoenix could help. Howard picked up the phone and punched in the number written on the card.

After the third ring, a voice came on the line: "You've reached PRI - Phoenix Rising Investigations. There is nobody here to take your call. After the beep, please leave your full name, a number where you can be reached and a detailed message. Somebody will return your call at the first opportunity."

Howard left a brief message describing bits and pieces of the situation and closed by saying, "This is some pretty strange stuff, Phee, and I am way out of my league. I need your help on this one, old buddy. Call me as soon as you get this message."

He knew Phoenix would return the call as soon as he could. Until then, it would be best to duck any questions about Chance McKenzie, the moving files, or the sheriff's office. He embraced an avoidance tactic as a workable solution. His next court date was two weeks away and the District Attorney was out of town at a conference. He decided to avoid the office altogether and work at home waiting for Phoenix to call.

# Chapter 2 - Phoenix Rising Investigations

Phoenix Worthy stood tall at the helm of the Ghost Worthy, the boat his father had purchased in 1970. He scanned the river ahead plotting his course around smaller boats and channel markers. Memories of days spent exploring the Georgia coastal waterways with his dad trickled through his mind like a slow mountain stream. Alex Worthy had bought the small yacht from a commercial pilot from Thunderbolt. Back then she was named Flying Tiger in honor of the air freight company the pilot flew for. As a child, Phoenix would watch his father stand at this very spot, his large hands firmly gripped around the wheel, and guide the vessel along the intricate channels and back waters of the Intracoastal Waterway. The senior Worthy had shown Phoenix how to operate the controls when he had to stand on a milk crate just to see over the bridge.

Off in the distance, a pair of shrimp boats glided along the waterway one behind the other. Large fishing nets hung taut from the out-riggings on each side. There was little activity on the decks as crewmembers sat on the gunnels watching the calm water glide beneath their workplace.

Phoenix lifted an arm and gave a slight wave to the other skippers as their boats passed in the channel. There is an unwritten law among sailors that, when the skipper of one boat waves at the skipper of another, the greeting must be returned in kind. No laws were broken this day.

After they passed, Phoenix turned and noticed how both boats silhouetted against the orange afternoon skyline as they each glided away. It was the kind of scene easily found on a dime store postcard or one of those picture puzzles chopped into small shapely bits of cardboard. Hoping the serenity of the moment would translate through the camera's eye; he reached for his Nikon and snapped off three quick photos.

Phoenix had traversed this channel hundreds of times in the years since he started boating with his dad. The Georgia coast was like his second home and he could navigate its small inlets and tributaries like he was equipped with a mental GPS. His father and grandfather both grew up in Savannah and passed the love of the coast down to the family line.

After Alex Worthy passed away, the Tiger sat in dry dock slowly deteriorating. The stain of her hull and the shine of her brass fittings tarnished dark and dull. Years of neglect under the sun, rain, and wind took its toll on the old boat. Ownership transferred to Phoenix along with the rest of his father's estate, but his heart just wasn't in the maintenance.

When he returned from Milledgeville without a wife, without a job, and early in his recovery from alcoholism, he would occasionally go down to the marina and sit. Ensconced on a shaded bench across from the decaying boat, he would remember happier days with his dad. It was cheap therapy. The boat seemed to hold at bay the demons tormenting his soul.

One hot and sticky July afternoon, Phoenix sat there staring at the Tiger when he noticed the owner of the marina walking along the oyster shell path towards him.

Dan Chambers had operated the marina since 1965 and had known Alex Worthy since the day he first tied off the Owens in slip seventeen. Phoenix barely acknowledged his presence when Dan walked up.

The old salt stood there quietly for a few moments and then, without even looking down, the said, "So tell me boy, what are you going to do with her?"

Phoenix continued to stare at the boat. He had been pondering the same question for several days. "I don't know, Dan. I really don't know."

Dan reached over and put his hand on Phoenix's shoulder. "Son, I can't tell you what to do. But I can tell you what your old man would want you to do. He would be downright pissed that you let her sit here like this for as long as you have. You need to get off your ass and get her into shape. If you don't do it now, she'll sit in this dock and die." He thought briefly and added, "Even worse, you might do the same."

Dan thought back to his friend Alex and continued. "Your old man loved this boat almost as much as he loved you. If you are not going to save her, sell her to someone who will. Don't let her die like this."

Phoenix felt the tug of his father's love. Dan leaned over and whispered in his ear, "It's not like you are doing much of anything else anyway."

The words impacted his emotions like they had been fired from cannon. He turned to thank the feisty old sailor, but all he saw was the back of his head and a hand in the air waving as he walked away, humming the chorus of his favorite Jimmy Buffett song.

The crusty old seaman was the last plank in the bridge Phoenix needed to get back into the flow of life. The Tiger was not going to recover without Phoenix, and he would not recover without her.

Using the help of Dan Chambers and an old friend from high school, several thousand dollars from his inheritance, and a ton of elbow grease, the boat was slowly restored to her previous mint condition.

Six months later, with fresh paint, rebuilt engines, new glass and a new name, the Ghost Worthy was ready to launch. Everyone told Phoenix it was terribly bad luck to rename a boat. But Phoenix figured it the other way around. He decided it was bad luck to bring something or someone back from the dead with the same name.

On the day the Ghost Worthy launched, young Denise Worthy stood at her father's side. He held her hand and hoped this would be the first day of many he would be a part of his daughter's life again.

She looked up and asked, "Now, Daddy?"

He nodded and watched as Denise pushed out the bottle of faux champagne hanging from the front riggings of the boat. The bottle shattered against the freshly painted apex of her bow. Denise squealed with delight and clapped her hands together. Phoenix laughed and waved at the small crowd of friends and family gathered to celebrate this moment. His ex-wife, Cheryl, led the shouts of triumph.

It was a pivotal moment in his life. In that instant, Phoenix intuitively knew he would be okay. Life held meaning. He picked his daughter up and gave her one of those big – Daddy loves his little girl – hugs and said, "I wish your Granddad was here to see this."

She touched his face and replied, "He can see us from heaven, Daddy."

Phoenix smiled.

Restoring the man required a little more work than simply replacing glass, polishing brass, or painting a hull. He enrolled in a university in the American Southwest, taking two years to earn a Masters degree in Forensic Psychology. While in Arizona he studied other things outside the Forensic curriculum.

The study of paranormal phenomenon was still considered the fringe of acceptable science, but in this environment Phoenix found many like-minded individuals. He studied the "survival of consciousness" theory, which validated his notions of the afterlife and spiritual essence as related to the consciousness of the human spirit. His passion for the paranormal was in full swing.

He also delved into Native American spirituality where he learned about the culture and traditions of the native people. He developed a respect for their traditions and their views of the spirit of man. While learning native methods of meditation and prayer, he developed lifetime friendships with priests of the native way of life. One of those friendships was never far from his thoughts. All of these things prepared him for his return to Savannah and the full-time plunge into investigating the paranormal and counseling people impacted by the effects of a paranormal contact or experience.

* * * * *

Geoff Davies stood on the freshly painted dock and watched Phoenix guide the boat into the empty slip. His shoulder length black hair danced in the evening breeze. The sun had all but fallen into the tall pine trees lining the horizon to the west. The sky was awash with hues of red, orange and yellow. The outline of a new moon hung in the darkness of the eastern sky. Seagulls flew in small circles over the shrimp boats floating side by side along the commercial fishing docks.

Geoff had been working with Phoenix since being forced to flee New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina. In many ways the furious storm had done him a favor.

When he first came over from England, he was looking for somebody that would become a mentor in the field of paranormal investigations; someone to help him develop his natural skill as a medium. He was highly sensitive to ghostly presence and had a gift of consciousness few people are born with. Unlike the Hollywood version of the ghost sensitive, he did not see full-bodied apparitions standing on the street corner. Rather, he experienced their presence at a sub-conscious level in a trance state achieved during the course of a ghost hunting investigation. Geoff ended up in New Orleans working with Robert Mouton, a paranormal investigator of some note based out of the French Quarter.

Geoff had met Phoenix at a conference in New Orleans just a few months before the storm and was very impressed with his credentials, his theories of psychology as they related to the paranormal, and the fact he was a genuinely nice guy. They hit it off instantly and Doctor Worthy let him know, should anything sour with his situation in New Orleans, there would be a place for him on the Phoenix Rising team.

After his flat flooded during the hurricane, Geoff collected what little bit he could salvage and headed straight for the coast of Georgia to take Phoenix up on his offer.

Phoenix welcomed him to the team with little fanfare saying, "The hours will be long, the pay will be short, but the rewards will be plenty. At the very least you can write a best-selling book somewhere down the line and go on tour."

Geoff quickly learned his new mentor had little regard for Robert Mouton and his approach to paranormal investigations. Phoenix believed the Cajun investigator was in it for the accolades and not the science. He threw around titles like "Snake Oil Salesman" and "Charlatan" when talking about Geoff's former employer. Geoff discovered, long before the hurricane forced his move, Doctor Worthy was correct in his assessment.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual. Mouton had little use for Phoenix and he certainly didn't like his prized ghost sensitive moving to Savannah. It was like a slap in his face to be dealt with when the time was right.

Jason Ayers was Phoenix's young nephew. He lived on the boat full-time and took care of an assortment of odd jobs for his uncle. He was a typical young, misguided twenty-something, always dressed in a black t-shirt touting the name of some mystical band and wearing small pieces of ornate jewelry pushed through his skin in various places. If it were three hundred years in the past, he would probably have been mistaken for a pirate. They would probably have been correct.

Jason was very close to his uncle who helped him find his way out of a bad situation a few years back. For his part, he lived on the boat and took care of the day-to-day maintenance. He was becoming a pretty good investigator in his own right.

Geoff was caught off guard when Jason tossed a mooring line and shouted, "How about tying us off?" He had no choice but to catch the rope or get hit in the face with it.

Geoff walked over to the row of steel cleats lining the edge of the slip and secured the rope. His quick work with the tie-line and looping might secure him a role as sailor first class on any of Her Majesty's ships.

The engines of the Ghost Worthy fell silent as her pilot turned the ignition off. Jason stood on the edge of the slip and pulled the stern line tight securing her to the edge of the dock.

Phoenix shouted at his nephew, "Jason, don't forget to get the mechanic over here tomorrow. I'm still convinced the engine timing is a little off or possibly a shaft bearing's about to let go. I definitely feel a vibration back there."

"You got it, Uncle Phee."

Jason acknowledged Geoff with a nod and went below to finish stowing the gear.

"Hey, Geoff," Phoenix shouted as he walked over to the rail. "What brings you down here so late?" He grabbed the Brit's hand and pulled him up onto the deck.

Geoff reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded note, and said, "I picked up messages this afternoon. You had a call from some chap claiming to be an old friend of yours - a Howard Wallace?"

The note had Howard's name and phone number scribbled on it. "It seems there is some odd stuff going on in Tallahassee requiring your attention. He wants you to call him as soon as you can."

Phoenix took a few seconds to consider what would prompt his old friend to call. It had to be something dire. Howard was not shaken easily and would only call for some kind of emergency.

"Thanks for bringing this out. I'll call him back when I get home. Why don't you come out later and we'll go over the video from the Kings Island investigation?"

Geoff glanced at his watch and sighed, "Okay, I'll be out no later than eight. Why don't I pick up a couple of pounds of boiled shrimp?" He waited for response. Hearing none, he cleared his throat, "Uhmm..."

Phoenix looked over and responded with a distant, "Yeah, shrimp sounds good." He continued to study the note. "I'll see you then."

Geoff knew the look and instinctively knew they wouldn't be watching any video tonight. The look in the good doctor's eyes said, we are going to Florida.

Geoff climbed down to the dock and walked to his car thinking, it's going to be a long night.

* * * * *

Phoenix walked in the side door of his house not quite thirty minutes later. He took a quick sort through the mail and found nothing but a coupon flyer and an invitation to a Bar-B-Q at the marina. He hoped he would be able to attend but figured that would be contingent on the situation in Florida.

He took a glass down from the cabinet and poured himself a tall orange juice. He continued down the hall to his office and plopped into his big leather chair. Air hissed from the cushions as he settled in.

He scanned the number Geoff had written down on the note and tapped them out on the keypad. The phone rang twice before connecting. A voice on the other end said, "Wallace."

"Hey Howard, it's Phoenix."

"Damn, Phee, it sure is good to hear from you, been way too long."

"Same here, Howie," he said, knowing how much his friend hated the old nickname. "What's going on?

Howard laid out the events surrounding the last couple of days. He described the moving files, the words on the glass, and the murder of Chance McKenzie in the prison yard. He explained the murder weapon driven through the file on the Sheriff's desk.

Phoenix took detailed notes with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker as his friend described the events. He interrupted Howard a couple of times to ask specific questions: "Was Janet McKenzie's murder a particularly gruesome death? Was there anybody close by when your file was moved?"

"Phee, it is the weirdest thing I ever saw. You know my thoughts about ghosts and these supernatural things you are involved with..." he trailed off.

On many long nights in college between beers and baseball, Phoenix and Howard debated topics ranging from the Supreme Court of the United States to the dimensions of the last Playmate of the month, but no other subject had been debated with as much vigor as the existence of ghosts, spirits, and demons.

For Phoenix it was a resounding "Yay;" for his friend a definitive "Nay." To the very last debate before graduation, Howard never once considered anything paranormal having a snowball's chance in hell of being fact. That is, until the events of yesterday took an uppercut to his belief system.

"I really need your help," Phoenix heard his friend say on the other end of the line. "This is way out of my league and I don't want these local cops bungling through it. I'm willing to hire your services as a Forensic Psychologist to bring you in, but I'm afraid, if the D.A. gets wind of this ghost business, she'll pull the plug on the whole thing. We'll only have a couple of weeks to work with. She is attending a conference in Vegas and will be back a week from Friday."

"That's not a problem, Howard. We can work it any way you need to. I don't normally charge for paranormal investigation work anyway. It is better not to cloud investigations with an issue of money. We can talk about payment, if any, after you see the results."

"That sounds good to me, Phee. I'm sure the county can at least cover your expenses. When can you get here?"

"We'll leave sometime tomorrow and be in your office Friday morning. There will be three of us - a technician to do the audio/visual stuff and another investigator, Geoff Davies. He's a sensitive, a true medium, and, if you don't know what that means, just relate it to that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when your ex-wife walks in the room."

Howard chuckled. "Well, I hope he knows how to run like hell, too. Okay, my friend, I'll see you on Friday."

"One more thing," continued Phoenix. "Make sure you have prints of all the photos you have taken. It would be a big help."

"Will do."

"See you Friday."

Phoenix hung up the phone and stared off into space as if there were a full complement of spirits hanging out in his kitchen. So many contacts start with the frantic cries of a relative hoping to communicate with a dead mother, father, son or daughter. You can immediately tell the cases with the potential to provide actual evidence of a haunting. From the distress in his friend's voice it seemed obvious something unnatural was at work. He had high hopes for credible ghost evidence in Tallahassee.

Phoenix was startled when the back door slammed and Geoff strolled into the kitchen. He dropped a large paper bag on the table. The smell of boiled shrimp quickly filled the room. "Sorry, old chap," he said. "There was quite a line at the market."

Phoenix pulled a couple of sodas from the icebox and sat with Geoff at the small dining table. In the bag were two pounds of the finest Southern Pink Shrimp you could buy in the whole of the Coastal Empire. There was no way Geoff could keep up with Phoenix in the seafood department. Years of living on the Georgia coast had equipped him with rapid methods for peeling shrimp and cracking open steamed oysters, while growing up in England had equipped Geoff with a taste for good tea.

Phoenix looked over at Geoff and said, "We'll have to put off the investigation in Metter this weekend. I'll call them and reschedule for another time."

He laid out the details of the circumstance in Tallahassee and roughed out a general plan of attack for when they got on site. "Because of the activity in Howard's office, I'd like to start there. Pretty quick, though, I want you and Echo over at the McKenzie house to see what you can find over there. I suspect, because of the nature of the emotion at the house, our best hope for answers will come from there."

They finished their meal in silent reflection.

* * * * *

Echo Ramirez was sitting at home working on her MySpace profile when her phone rang. The name Phoenix Worthy popped up on the caller ID. She picked up the receiver and answered with a slight Hispanic accent, "Hey Doc, what's up?"

"Good evening, Eck. I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

"There's never anything going on over here to interrupt. What's going on with you?"

"I wanted to let you know I have canceled the investigation in Metter this weekend. Something else came up and we'll be going to Tallahassee for a few days. Can you swing that?"

She thought long and hard for about six milliseconds and said, "Sure thing, Doc. You know me; I'm always up for a good spook hunt."

"Plan and pack for at least a week." He paused before continuing, "It looks like a pretty promising situation. You just might get to see another ghost."

She was fortunate her full-time job was part-time at best and taking time away to assist the good doctor was always an option. Her role was to maintain the equipment, keep computers and software up to date, pull together the electronic data, and anything else the doctor wanted. She continued, "I assume you want me to pack the standard stuff?"

"Yep. Geoff is going to pick you up in the morning at eight thirty, so you can be over here by nine. That will give us plenty of time to get packed. I'd like to be on the road by eleven."

He quickly wrapped up the call with, "See you then?"

"See you in the morning, Doc." Echo placed the cordless phone back into its cradle and walked into the living room where her mother and her son sat watching TV. She picked up the remote and turned the volume down.

"Who was that on the phone, Momma?" her son asked.

"I've got to go out of town for a few days with the team."

"Are you going to find ghosts?"

"I certainly hope so."

# Chapter 3 - Ghost Hunting 101

For every ghost hunter/paranormal investigator in America, there are a thousand skeptics. Many of those who call themselves ghost hunters were once skeptics, but some strange or unexplained experiences dramatically impacted their beliefs. One common notion among the community of ghost hunters relates to the level of ghostly or spirit energy and dimension existing in our world.

Phoenix came naturally to the field. He grew up in a community rich in tales of ghosts, spirits, and apparitions regularly appearing on the old cobblestone streets of Savannah. His first direct contact with a ghostly presence occurred while he was an intern at the Central State Hospital in Milledgeville.

One evening, on the back stairwell of an older building, he felt a pocket of coldness wrap around his body. A demented laugh filled the staircase behind him. He turned to look, but nobody was there. Just as quickly as it came, it left.

He thought for a brief instant that a thin shadow of mist whisked past him, but it all happened so fast he chalked it up to his eyes playing tricks. Later in the evening he described what happened to one of the orderlies, an old black man employed by the hospital for well over forty years. He laughed and said, "Oh, that's just Willie. He's an old spook who's been hangin' around that rickety staircase for years. He don't hurt nobody, but he scares the piss right outta me!"

The incident changed Phoenix's attitude completely and sent him on his informal research into the paranormal. He returned to the stairwell on several occasions but never felt the presence of old Willie again.

Phoenix was a researcher of the educational variety. His formal study as a forensic psychologist and career as a clinical psychologist provided a solid foundation for the scientific procedures required in paranormal investigations. He had been the lead investigator in hundreds of paranormal investigations, most of which ended with some scientific or human explanation.

The act of ghost hunting would be academic without the means of detecting or recording the presence of ghosts or spirits. Ghost hunting is a regular occurrence; ghost finding is extraordinarily rare.

Most investigators spend countless hours sifting through video and audiotapes; studying environmental recordings related to temperature, humidity and electrical interference. The conclusions almost always end up at something man-made, or at the very least, unexplainable.

Paranormal investigators use a mixture of technologies in their attempts to capture documented evidence of paranormal activity, something to confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, the existence of disembodied spirits. Although there have been many bizarre photographs and scary audio recordings defying explanation, verifiable proof is still nonexistent.

Hollywood would have you believe ghosts appear as floating white sheets or some vaporous mist with a clever personality. Unfortunately, in the world of real-life investigations of the paranormal, the odds of actually seeing a full-bodied apparition rival buying the winning Powerball ticket.

Spectral activity touches the world around us in ways that can be measured with current technology. Primary among these are electro-magnetic field (EMF) detectors. All around us all the time are various amounts of EMF. Most are caused by natural conditions such as electrical storms or magnetic iron deposits. Many of these are man-made by everyday equipment, such as vacuum cleaners, power generators, or electrical transmission lines. Paranormal events can intermittingly cause severe EMF disturbances, which can be recorded on the instrumentation.

Unearthly activity can influence the physical world with variations in temperature, radio frequency, and radiation levels. Various types of devices are used to detect and record this data for evaluation later.

Phoenix ensured his team was equipped with the latest high definition video and audio recording equipment. Their use of high definition infrared video was very effective in pulling out even the most subtle temperature variations.

Each team member was fitted with a Global Positioning System (GPS) bracelet, so each of their locations during the course of an investigation could be documented and correlated to the specifics of the investigation. Few teams in the field of paranormal investigation used the technology to the extent of Phoenix Rising Inc.

* * * * *

At nine o'clock Thursday morning Phoenix wiped his brow and checked his watch. His morning had been spent cleaning out the old Land Cruiser he had been driving for nearly fifteen years. It was barely used when he bought it and had held together for well over a hundred-thousand miles of asphalt along back roads and highways of the South.

The dark blue paint had lost its sheen many years ago. The upholstery was a bit threadbare, but the engine still ran like a champ. Phoenix talked about getting it painted, but the talk never converted to action.

He was leaning under the hood, adding oil to the engine, when Geoff pulled his Explorer into the driveway. Echo waved at Phoenix from the passenger window.

"Buenos días, Doc!" She opened the door, bounded from the truck, and walked over to stand beside her favorite ghost hunter. "Geoff filled me in on this trip. It sounds like there is some really strange stuff going on in Tallahassee. I have a good feeling about this one!"

In the eighteen months she had been doing the tech work for PRI, Echo always kicked off the investigation with that statement. Like a judge dropping the gavel to open a big trial or the president throwing out the first pitch of baseball season, her words had become the official beginning of any investigation.

"Buenos días, Senorita Echo!" Phoenix lifted his palm into the air giving her a target for the obligatory high five. Her hand met his with a loud slap, officially starting the hunt.

"Our new Digital IR video camera came in yesterday. It's still in the box in the front of the garage. I would like to bring it along. You can figure out how to use it tonight in the hotel."

He pointed to the cardboard box on the closest workbench. "I picked up another tripod and a new stand-alone hard drive for storing the videos."

She made a beeline for her new camera and accessories and started digging around in the box, reading labels and smiling. As the technician of the team, she had an unhealthy ownership view of his equipment. But that meant she would protect it like she would her own child.

Phoenix was often hired as a consulting forensic psychologist in big trials here and there. The payments for his service ensured he could fund his passion and make sure Echo and Geoff were compensated for their services. It also meant he did not need to dig too deeply into his inheritance to bankroll PRI. Phoenix could dedicate himself solely to pro bono ghost hunting for the rest of his life and still live comfortably.

PRI's well-stocked laboratory, darkroom and multi-media research facility was located on the second floor above the garage, which sat separately from the house. After he took in Geoff following Hurricane Katrina, Phoenix decided to have the building storm-hardened in case any Atlantic hurricane blew in with the power to cause the kind of damage seen in South Florida during Andrew. Everyone on the team referred to the place as PRI Central.

Geoff shook his mentor's hand and asked, "Are you about ready to shove off?"

"Yeah, as soon as Echo gets the other stuff loaded."

At ten thirty in the morning, with a full complement of data collection gear, cameras and computers, the Phoenix Rising team headed out on the three hundred mile trip to Tallahassee; each of them was consumed with hopes of observing verifiable proof of ghosts or otherworldly phenomenon. They talked excitedly about what the investigation might uncover. It was pure anticipation and the thrill of the hunt.

# Chapter 4 - Howard's Office

Phoenix hated sleeping in hotels. He hated the strange beds, hard as the rock of Gibraltar or soft as a cotton ball, and the unusual noises from adjoining rooms or from the air conditioner that either did not work or worked too much. Sleep came in short spurts that night and, when the alarm blared at six thirty, it was all he could do to keep from tossing it across the room. He managed to get in a quick snooze before rolling out some ten minutes later.

Dressed for North Florida springtime, he took the short walk next door to the adjoining diner that appeared to be the most popular breakfast spot in town, its parking lot full of farm trucks and police cars. The red and green tubes of the neon sign blazing above the main doors identified the place as the Dixie Diner. He found Geoff and Echo already seated in a booth against the back wall.

"Good morning," Phoenix grumbled as he slid in beside Echo. "How is the coffee?"

Geoff whispered, "I think you could strip wallpaper with it, but at least it's hot."

"That's a real good argument for drinking orange juice," Echo chimed in. "Not to mention it is much better for you and will keep you from getting so stressed."

Phoenix looked at Geoff as if to acknowledge it truly was Echo's job to keep up with all the vices in his life. Chuckling he replied, "I'll give up coffee when they pry it from my cold dead hands."

Echo rolled her eyes and said, "I suppose that applies to those stinky cigars you've been known to smoke, and we won't even bring up your waitress friend at Denny's."

Phoenix cut a quick glance at the young technician saying, "I don't know what you are talking about. She just likes hearing my ghost stories."

Geoff winked at Echo and added, "I don't recall ever seeing a ghost at Denny's."

"What is this, pick on the leader day?" he said, enjoying the verbal abuse being directed his way.

The arrival of the redheaded server rescued Phoenix from the minor attack. She leaned against the table and asked, "What'll be this morning, folks?" Each of them rattled off their breakfast request. Echo, always interested in maintaining her nearly slim figure, ordered a fruit cup and croissant.

As they sat waiting for food, Phoenix laid out how they would approach the day. "I talked to Howard after we got in last night. We're meeting him at his office around nine this morning. There's not a lot we can do there until late this afternoon because of all the workers still in the building. I would rather set up equipment this afternoon and document the office over the weekend. He has a conference room we can use as our base of operations.

"I want to approach this investigation like every other –with one exception." He thought carefully before proceeding. "Let's assume everything is unproven until we find evidence verifying the facts. Don't consider evidence already documented about the McKenzie case. It may be inaccurate."

Geoff peered over his coffee cup and asked, "What are you thinking, Phee?"

Phoenix turned to his British friend, "I'm thinking it is very likely Chance McKenzie may have been wrongly convicted, that he did not kill his wife."

"Whoa!" Echo said, quickly interrupting him, "Where did that come from?"

"I'm making an assumption. If we are dealing with the ghost of Chance McKenzie, in death he has no reason to tell lies." He told them about the words, I'm innocent, being written on the glass. "Our prisons are full of innocent men, but a ghost that tells lies would be something of an oddity; don't you think? Anyway, Howard is supposed to have pictures of everything when we get there."

The truth inside the scenario immediately overtook Echo. "If that's true and Chance McKenzie did not kill his wife, the real killer is still out there somewhere,"

"Exactly," Phoenix replied.

The server walked over carrying plates of food on each arm effectively ending the discussion. When Phoenix went one-on-one with a plate of bacon and eggs, he wasn't much of a conversationalist. As they ate, each member of the team considered his role in the imminent investigation and the possibilities before them.

* * * * *

Chatting with an associate, Howard stood outside the building waiting for his old friend to arrive. He looked up as Phoenix's Land Cruiser pulled off the highway and slipped into the first available parking space. The Explorer carrying the other two members of the team pulled in right behind him and found an empty space just a few slots away.

Phoenix walked over, shook Howard's hand and pulled him close for a quick embrace and friendly pat on the back. "Hey, Howard, it is good to see you."

The prosecutor smiled, "Damned glad to see you, too! It has been way too long."

Geoff and Echo walked over to where the two old friends were standing.

"Howard, I'd like you to meet my associate, Geoff Davies." They shook hands as Phoenix continued, "And our technician, Echo Ramirez."

"My pleasure, Miss Ramirez." Howard reached out to shake her hand and found nothing but air.

"Just call me Echo, Mr. Wallace. That works for me." She reached out to grab the waiting hand. "I'm going to help you find your ghost."

Howard seemed a little startled and looked back over to Phoenix, who quickly added, "Echo is a cracker-jack technician. If there is a spirit hanging out in your office, she'll find it."

"I am glad you guys are here. Let's go up to the conference room and discuss what I would like you to do."

"After you," Phoenix said, wondering how Howard got the impression he was in charge.

The four of them crossed the parking lot and went up the steps to the second floor. As they passed Howard's office, Geoff stopped abruptly as he neared the closed door causing Echo to walk right into his back. Had anyone else been behind her there would have been a pileup in the hallway.

"Something wrong?" asked Phoenix.

After a few seconds, Geoff turned and continued down the hall to where Phoenix and Howard stood looking back. "No, nothing's wrong. I sensed something, but I am not sure what."

Howard led them into a small conference room with an oval table in the middle. "I reserved this room for your use while you are here. Feel free to use the phone, fax, copier or any other service in the building. You can get internet access over there." He pointed to a worktable along the back wall where a couple of data ports had recently been installed.

Phoenix sat down at the conference table. Howard handed him a thin manila folder. "Here is the background stuff you asked for about the McKenzie case. I left the case file on my desk as you asked."

Phoenix took the file and started reading the contents.

"While you are reading, I'm going to grab some coffee. Would you like some?" Howard quizzed.

Phoenix glanced over at Echo and, with a slight twitch of his head, indicated he would like her to take care of that. They had worked together so long she had a good understanding of his working habits and investigative style. She correctly determined that what he really wanted was a few moments alone with Geoff to quiz him about the sensation he got from Howard's office.

"Uh, tell you what," Echo grabbed the lawyer by the arm. "Why don't you show me where that coffee pot is? I'll fix a cup for Phoenix and myself. I know how he takes it and you'd probably never get it right." The slight smile on his lips was the only thank you needed from the boss. Echo pulled Howard out of the room and Geoff sat down beside Phoenix.

He looked over at the young Brit and asked, "What did you sense back there?"

Geoff replied, "There is a very strong presence near or in that office. In just a brief contact I felt a mix of incredible sadness coupled with a frightful anger. Whatever happened, that spirit is not pleased. I can probably get a better reading later when there is not as much going on and I can focus on the spirit contact."

Phoenix looked up from the file, "We'll do that later tonight or tomorrow. I want you and Echo over at the McKenzie house as soon as you can get access. If you find nothing there, we can focus on Howard's office over the weekend."

Geoff looked puzzled. "I'm not exactly sure why we are going over there when I've already connected with something here."

Phoenix peered at Geoff over the top of his glasses and said, "The only thing better than one active ghost at an investigation is another ghost. Based on the grisly murder of Janet McKenzie, I am going to assume there is a good possibility of her spirit remaining."

Howard and Echo returned with coffee. She sat a cup beside Phoenix and plopped down in the empty chair beside Geoff.

Phoenix looked up from reading the file and said to Howard, "I'd like Echo and Geoff to go over to the McKenzie house and take some readings, if possible. You and I can go over to the Sheriff's office and see what is going on over there."

"I am not sure I understand why you want to go to the McKenzie place. What about the crazy stuff going on here?"

Phoenix did not want to give away too much to his friend at this point. If his suspicions were true, they could cast a bad light on the prosecutor's office. Bringing them up now seemed premature.

"I just want to see if there is paranormal activity there. Whatever is in your office is probably not going anywhere. We can't do much in the way of collecting data until this evening or over the weekend when everyone is gone. We might as well take advantage of the time and let them see if anything is going on at the residence. If not, we can set the focus right here."

Howard nodded, "I'll buy that." He fumbled through the keys of his cell phone, looking for a stored number. Finding the one he wanted, he dialed and waited for an answer.

"Star Realty, Ann Waverly speaking," a distinctly southern female voice came out loud on the phone speaker. "How may I assist you with your home purchase needs today?"

"Ann, this is Howard Wallace over at the District Attorney's office. I'm sending a couple of people your way. Please give them the key to the McKenzie place if you would. They're going to do some investigative work over the weekend."

"What is this about, Howard?" asked the realtor.

"We are just wrapping up some loose ends on the McKenzie case. They'll be there within the hour."

"Okay, Howard, whatever you say; just make sure they don't tear anything up. I know how cops are about cleaning up after themselves. I still have to sell the old place, you know." She ended the call saying, "Send them on over. I'll be looking for them."

Howard clipped the phone back on his belt, looked at Geoff, and said, "You'll pass Star Realty on the way to the house. I'll give you directions before you leave."

"Excellent," Geoff said. "Phoenix, if you don't need anything else from us, we'll head on over and get set up."

Phoenix thought for a second before asking Howard, "How far is it to the Sheriff's office?"

"Three miles."

He turned back to Geoff and instructed, "Follow us over there and see if you sense anything before you head out to the McKenzie place." Phoenix turned back to Howard and asked, "That's okay, isn't it?"

"No problem."

They walked down the back stairs to the parking lot. Howard climbed in the truck with his old friend. Geoff and Echo followed behind as they drove to the Sheriff's office. When they arrived, Echo grabbed a handheld EMF detector before continuing into the building. Howard keyed in a code on the security panel allowing them access to the inner offices. They stopped at the first occupied desk.

"Hi, Patty, is Doug around?" asked Howard.

"Well, hey, Howard." Patty gave the three strangers standing behind him a quick once over. "He's down at Jay's Salvage Yard. They had a break-in last night."

"We are going to go into Doug's office and have a look around. Has anyone been in there since Wednesday?"

"The Sheriff put tape up right after you left the other day. As far as I know, nobody has been in there since." She lowered her voice. "You couldn't pay me enough money to go in there."

Howard chuckled, "Thanks, Patty. Let Doug know we were here when he gets back."

"What about your friends?" Patty asked.

"Uh, just tell him I will clue him in and make introductions later."

They continued down the hall and stopped at a door with strips of bright yellow crime scene tape draped across the opening. It didn't look like it had been disturbed. Howard pulled the tape aside and pushed the key into the lock, giving it a quick turn. The door opened with a slight creak. Howard clicked on the overhead lights as he passed through the door. Phoenix followed with Geoff and Echo trailing behind.

The Sheriff had a fairly spacious office by county standards. Even with the four of them inside, it was not crowded. A bookcase, filled with law books and periodicals, lined the east wall. On the Sheriff's desk a file folder lay open to an eight by ten photograph of a woman lying in a pool of blood. Stuck through the middle of the photograph was a large hunting knife.

Phoenix walked around the room taking various measurements with the EMF detector. "There doesn't seem to be any large variation." He looked over at Geoff, "Are you sensing anything?"

The Brit stood there, his eyes closed, tuning into the open space of Doug Clayton's office. After a couple of moments he opened his eyes and said, "I'm not getting anything here. If there was a ghost, it left no residual psychic markings."

Echo used the digital camera to snap off a few photographs. Her job was to thoroughly document their investigations. She stood by the desk and took two pictures of the open file and a close-up of the knife.

She looked over at Howard and said, "I notice there is no fingerprint powder on the knife. I think you should get the knife and file dusted for prints in case this ghost has skin on it. Could one of your investigators take care of it?"

Phoenix smiled. Echo was beginning to think more like a detective than a technician, which would ultimately bode well for PRI. "Excellent idea," he said, looking back over at Howard. "I don't see much for us to do here. Let your investigators see if they can come up with a human factor."

Phoenix motioned to his team and said, "You two get on over to the McKenzie house. I'll meet up with you there later this afternoon."

# Chapter 5 - 417 Cardinal Court

Geoff unlocked the door to the McKenzie house and walked into the empty living room. All of the furnishings had been removed. He was relieved to see the light come on as he flipped the switch by the door. Echo followed, carrying black plastic cases containing audio and video equipment.

"Do you know where she was killed?" Echo asked. She smelled the aroma of freshly installed carpet. "With the new carpet down, finding exactly where it happened is going to be tough. We should have picked up a copy of the case file. It'd be easier to lay everything out if we knew what we were looking for."

Geoff was unconcerned. He was already walking through the living room, his arms outstretched as if trying to capture the energy fields on the open air. He was barely aware that Echo had returned to the truck for another load of equipment. She made another three trips, each time bringing in a small collection of sensing devices, laptops and associated cabling.

When she had finished unloading the equipment, she stood quietly by and watched Geoff probe the environment for latent spectral activity. She had watched him in this state many times in the past. He was tuning into his surroundings, taking in the quiet sounds and subtle variations of energy. He was moving slowly back towards the middle of the room when he stopped almost in the center.

He slowly opened his eyes and said in a low voice, "Right here. She died right here." His arms were stretched out to his sides with palms facing down. "She fell in this spot. I can almost feel a temperature difference right here."

"Now that's something we can measure," Echo said. She opened one of the plastic cases and handed Geoff an infrared temperature sensor. He pointed it at the floor by his feet and pushed the control button. A visible beam of infrared light immediately bounced back with a very accurate reading. The numbers on display read sixty-two degrees. He moved over by the front door and took another reading of the carpet there. The device displayed a much warmer seventy-one.

"Do you notice how cool it is in here?" Echo asked. She walked over to the thermostat and found the air conditioning unit had been turned off. "As warm as it is outside and with all these windows closed, it should be eighty degrees or more in here. But, according to this, it's only sixty-five."

Geoff smiled at the implication, "Let's get started. We can set up the tables along that wall away from the window. If you'll do the audio/video gear, I'll start with the temperature recorder and laptops."

They placed two folding tables near the front door, which provided the best vantage point of the living room and an unobstructed view of the pass-through into the kitchen.

When they finished setting up, they had an impressive array of data collection gear sitting side by side on the tables. At different positions and elevations around the room, Geoff placed microphone stands where he attached temperature sensors with rubber bands. Each device cabled into a junction box and ultimately back to one of the laptops for recording and display. On the stand closest to the center of the room, he attached a high gain microphone for recording the slightest sounds.

He placed a folding chair in the spot where he believed Janet McKenzie had died. From across the room a video camera and thermal imaging recorder aimed towards the chair. Echo placed a mini-cam on a tripod, specifically to monitor Geoff's facial movements during the session. She could monitor the signal from each camera on her laptop.

Very little about this ghost hunting business bothered Echo Ramirez. She had witnessed some pretty strange stuff working with Phoenix Rising. Today, for some reason, the butterflies in her stomach were as big as crows. She had seen Geoff do this dozens of times with no ill effects, but for some reason she felt a nagging uneasiness. Not knowing what he might encounter was totally unnerving and his safety was paramount.

She stood beside Geoff and expertly attached electrodes to his head. They had started using the electroencephalogram (EEG) the previous year when Phoenix felt that it was important to record brainwave patterns and correlate them to the other collected data. It turned out to be a good decision. From the first time they used it, the equipment revealed how Geoff experienced extreme neural oscillations, usually corresponding to other physical and environmental evidence.

"Every time I hook you up to the machine, I start thinking it might be some creepy voyeuristic view into that God Save the Queen head of yours." She laughed while verifying the integrity of each probe and connection, "Try not to give me a porn show, would you?"

He grinned slightly and said, "No problem, young lass. For you it will be Casper or nothing at all."

Echo rolled her eyes in response to Geoff's cavalier attitude. "You bring me Casper and I'm buying your breakfast tomorrow.

"Okay, dude, you're done," she said, slapping him on the shoulder. She cautiously snaked the EEG cables over to the recorder and plugged each one into its proper port. "When you are ready, I'll start the clock."

Geoff gave a thumbs-up to his teammate and said, "I'm ready. Wish me luck."

He got comfortable with his hands in his lap and settled quickly into his ritual of psychic exercise, designed to narrow his focus into the environment. First his breathing and heart rate slowed. With each tick of the clock, he sank deeper and deeper into a trance-like state, becoming hypersensitive to the background sounds and subtle shifts in lighting.

Echo watched the readout on the EEG. The display indicated a focused level of brain activity consistent with his trance state; heart rate slowed into the low forties. For some people this could be dangerous but, considering the excellent health of the young psychic, she was not concerned. It usually did not stay at that level very long. Once Geoff connected with a paranormal force, his pulse would increase almost immediately. All the temperature probes read sixty-three degrees with very little fluctuation and there were negligible changes of EMF.

Echo looked at the digital clock marking the timeline of the data collection. Geoff had been in his trance state for nearly forty-five minutes with no abnormal activity. Twice in the past, he endured this state for almost two hours, so there was still no cause for alarm. He continued to stare into nothingness.

Watching the heartbeat monitor, she noticed his pulse begin to quicken, slowly at first, but within moments his heart rate was up near ninety. Taking a quick glance at all the other readouts, she saw nothing out of the ordinary except the temperature sensor nearest Geoff registered a slight cooling. She grabbed the handheld EMF meter, quickly waved it through the area and noted a significant increase over the baseline measurements taken earlier.

She always marveled when Geoff slipped into his trance. As a talented clairaudient and medium, Geoff could get very close to the spirits at the center of an investigation. She was slightly jealous of his ability and longed to see the things he observed in trance.

From Geoff's perspective, the experience was almost always the same: his pulse slowing and his vision narrowing into a tight tunnel of light focused directly in front of him. Once he achieved trance state, concepts of time and space were constrained to the immediate vicinity. The visual appearance of the area took on a sharp, almost animated style; colors flared into a vivid spectrum and direct lighting seemed to fix on the focal point of the investigation.

He continued to mentally scan the area from deep within his trance state. He noticed a soft light in the kitchen begin to brighten, as if some astral stagehand located high above was shining a spotlight into the scene. The shapely figure of a woman appeared at the sink, rinsed her hands and got ready for breakfast. He heard water running and a radio playing in the background.

She turned to her right, facing the back door that led out to a patio. He recognized her as Janet McKenzie. She was wearing the same pink terry cloth robe he saw in the crime scene photos, with one difference. This garment was not yet dark with her blood. Her hair was still pinned back as if she had not been awake very long.

Geoff's eyes followed her movement as she walked over to the back door, peered out the glass, and, displaying a surprised smile, acknowledged whoever stood there. She unchained the back door.

Janet had barely opened the door when the unknown visitor shoved a large knife deep into her throat, effectively preventing her from screaming. Her eyes immediately grew wide with shock and terror as the attacker reached up with the other hand and clutched the front of her robe to keep her from stumbling backwards. She flailed her arms against the assailant, but any ability to defend herself ended with the plunge of the knife into her midsection.

He watched the intruder pull Janet into the living room and stab her twice more before releasing her to fall to the floor. Geoff tried to see the face of her killer, but there were no distinctive features to focus on. The knife-wielding assailant was nothing more than a shaded figure contrasted against her pink robe, which now grew dark red with the flow of blood.

For what seemed like several minutes, he stood over the dying woman. Geoff watched as the attacker admired the blood before letting the knife drop to the floor.

The dark figure pulled rubber gloves off his hands and stuffed them into a small bag. He then walked back into the kitchen and spent a couple of moments washing his face and hands in the sink. He appeared to wipe something off the floor before escaping out the back.

Geoff heard a woman's voice coming from below him. He looked down and into Janet's cold eyes. She was trying to speak, but all she could get out was a gurgling sound. He thought he heard her say, "Help us," before fading away.

The scene went dark and he instinctively knew his contact with Janet had ended, at least for this session. With the connection ended, his head fell forward and he softly moaned.

Echo was biting her nails as she watched the neural activity on the EEG. She had never seen the graphs modulate to these extremes. It read more like the seismic activity of a seven-something earthquake than human brain waves. The temperatures dropped another five degrees. She watched Geoff's face contort and his eyes widen as if he were watching a horror film. For all she knew, he might have been.

It had been twenty minutes since the beginning of the event marked by the increased pulse rate. She was ten minutes away from intervening when she heard Geoff moan, "Bloody hell."

He leaned forward and rested his face in his hands. Echo rushed to his side and knelt down asking, "What did you see?"

"I saw it all. I watched her die."

He lifted his head and looked right into the eyes of his concerned friend. "She died right here, she saw me, and she spoke to me." He pointed towards his feet, tears welled in his eyes. "It is by far the bloody worst thing I have ever felt."

# Chapter 6 - Evidence revealed

Phoenix and Howard stood outside the District Attorney's offices. The lot was filled with Sheriff's cars and various other county vehicles. His friend stood there discussing an ongoing case with one of the deputies. Phoenix admired the cupola atop the Capital situated among the downtown buildings. Next to it, reflections of light off the thick green glass of the courthouse cast an eerie jade tint to the street below. Pigeons explored the sidewalks and courtyard, hoping for a toss of food from any of the people sitting and enjoying the Florida afternoon.

Phoenix was focused, not on Howard's conversation, but on the team's progress at the McKenzie house. He was anxious to get over there, but his friend did not seem to share his concern. Just as he was getting ready to interrupt, his cell phone rang.

He noted Echo's name on the caller ID and answered, "Hey, Eck, what's up?"

"Doc, you better get over here. Geoff just came out of trance. His EEG was like nothing I've ever seen before. When he came out of it," she paused for a second, "he said he watched Janet McKenzie's murder."

Phoenix considered the situation and replied, "Okay, don't let him get up and walk around too much. Get him some water and tell him we are on our way. We'll be there in a few minutes." Phoenix punched the end call button.

"I hate to interrupt this, but we need to get over to the McKenzie place," he said and tugged on the prosecutor's arm. "That was Echo and it sounds like Geoff may be in trouble."

Howard shook the deputy's hand and said, "Sorry, I've got to run, but I will call you later.

"Let me drive," the prosecutor said pointing to his truck. "I know the way and can get us there a lot quicker."

Tires squealed and the smell of burning rubber drifted through the parking lot; heads turned as nearby onlookers searched for the source of the commotion. Phoenix fumbled with his seat belt, trying to get it buckled, as Howard raced out into busy traffic, barely missing the back of a delivery truck.

Phoenix shouted, "You're not racing at Daytona. Take it easy, how about it."

"You never did like my driving."

"You never could drive, that's why," he laughed and gripped the hand rest even tighter. "Just get us there in one piece."

Howard slowed to a reasonable speed. "So, what's going on over there?"

"Geoff is a clairvoyant, one of the best I have ever seen. He feels the presence of ghosts or spirits just like you or I might see someone standing across a room. This morning when we walked past your office, he felt something hanging around."

Howard was not smiling as he looked over. "What do you mean, he felt something?"

"I mean he felt a presence. Call it what you want: a ghost, a spirit, a haunting, whatever, but he told me he felt it very strongly in your office.

"We'll put our instruments in there tonight to record the environment over the weekend and see what we come up with. I'm convinced the ghost of Chance McKenzie has come calling and, according to Geoff, is not very happy."

"Until I saw that writing on my office window, I never believed in any of this stuff." He added, "And even after seeing it, I'm still not sure I believe."

"Your belief is your business. All we are going to do is show you what we find. You'll have to draw your own conclusions."

Howard pulled the vehicle onto Cardinal Court and, four houses later, slid to a quick stop behind Geoff's Explorer. The wheels had barely stopped rolling when Phoenix jumped out and ran down the walkway to the front door.

Without knocking, he walked in, Howard following close behind. Geoff was seated near the middle of the room; his head leaned over into in his hands. Echo knelt at his side with a towel wiping the sweat from his brow with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

She looked up as they walked in and said, "I'm glad you guys could make it."

Phoenix walked over and put his hand on Geoff's shoulder. "Cheerio, my boy, you look like you have seen a ghost."

"And you look like you have seen a bloody lawyer." Glancing back at Howard, he added, "No offense."

"None taken," Howard smiled at the levity of the British wit.

Geoff tried to stand, but Phoenix pushed him back into the chair. "Take a few minutes and tell me what you saw. I want to hear it while it is fresh on your mind."

He pointed to Echo, "Make sure you get this on video."

She walked back over to the table and stopped all the recording devices except the unit monitoring Geoff. "The camera is rolling, so anytime you are ready..."

The clairvoyant sat back and looked directly into the camera. "This is the official record of my vision at the Chance McKenzie house. Shortly after achieving astral consciousness, I observed what appeared to be the specter of Janet McKenzie coming into focus in the kitchen. She was at the sink, washing dishes or her hands or something. I didn't hear a knock, but I saw her look over at the back door. She seemed to smile and walk over to unlock it.

"As soon as the door opened, whoever was there stabbed her in the throat. He was very quick about it. Methodical, that's what he was, methodical."

Geoff continued, "He reached out with his free hand and grabbed her by the front of her robe." He pushed his arm out and balled his hand up in a fist. "Sort of like this."

Phoenix butted in quickly, "Could you see who it was?"

"No, but the bloke was very strong. He was six foot tall or better and held her straight up like a rag doll. While she was pushing against him, he didn't even flinch. He stuck her again in the stomach."

"That's not right," Howard injected. "She was murdered right here, in the living room. All of the crime scene evidence showed she was stabbed and died right where you are sitting."

"Well, that might be what the evidence says, but I am telling you what I saw." He pointed to the kitchen. "She was attacked in there and brought in here, held up like a doll. He stood right here, stabbed her two more times, and dropped her to the floor."

"What did he do then?" asked Phoenix.

"It's a little hazy, but it seemed like he pulled off some gloves and dropped them into a bag of some kind. I think he knelt down to tie his shoes or something as the McKenzie woman laid here and died."

"You saw all of this and didn't get a look at his face?" Howard doubted.

"I see what the vision gives me. It was like he wore a dark stocking or something. The face had no descriptive features. No hair, eyes, skin, nothing to grab onto for a description.

"Let him finish," said Phoenix.

"Not much to tell. He went on into the kitchen. He messed around at the sink and the door for a few minutes." Geoff stopped and closed his eyes and replayed the vision for a moment before continuing, "It was very strange. He kept disappearing and reappearing, like he was bobbing up and down. Then he took off out the back door."

Phoenix knelt behind Geoff and peered through the opening separating the living room from the kitchen. He stood back up and evaluated the positioning of the scene against Geoff's description of the killer's movements.

He turned to Echo and said, "Do me a favor. Go into the kitchen and stand in front of the sink."

The technician walked to the other room, turned and shouted back, "Okay, now what?"

"Bend down as if you were going to clean something off the floor and then stand back up."

She rolled her eyes before following through with the ghost hunter's request. She knelt down and pretended to wipe a dirty spot on the floor, then stood back up.

"Did it look anything like that?" he asked Geoff.

"Damn, Phoenix," he smiled. "It looked exactly like that."

Howard stood there, his jaw hanging in disbelief. "So what are you saying, Phee? That someone attacked the woman in her kitchen and brought her out here to die? That is not what the evidence indicated."

"None of the evidence that was found indicated that. From what I read in the file, all of the evidence was collected right here," Phoenix replied, pointing to the carpet at Geoff's feet. "I saw nothing about anything being collected in the kitchen."

"According to the lab, the kitchen was clean!" Howard's voice rose at the implied possibility of shoddy detective work.

Phoenix responded, "Or maybe the kitchen had been made to appear clean by the killer. Or maybe the forensics guys were so enamored by the pile of evidence implicating Chance McKenzie, they just gave the kitchen a cursory look. It could be any number of things, we don't know."

He continued, "I think it is worth getting someone from forensics back out here to go over it again, maybe someone who wasn't involved the first time. Get someone you trust and can keep things quiet. At this point, nothing can be gained by telling anyone how you came up with this hunch."

Howard shook his head and pulled out his cell phone. "The D.A. will have my ass if she gets wind of this."

He dialed the number for one of the forensics technicians and placed the phone to his ear. "Hi, Robbie, I need you to do me a big favor. I'd like you grab a kit and come over to the McKenzie house for a quick look at something.

"I'll take full responsibility; just get over here as soon as you can. Oh, and, Robbie, do me a favor and don't mention this to anybody for the time being. Don't even log the request; just get over here."

He ended the call abruptly with, "See you in a bit."

Howard clipped the phone back onto his belt and looked over at Phoenix. "Robbie is a junior technician, but very sharp and won't be influenced by the previous investigation. He wasn't even on board when Janet was murdered."

"Thanks, Howie," Phoenix chuckled, "You won't be sorry... I hope."

"You know how much I hate that, don't you?" Howard responded.

Echo walked out from the kitchen. "Hey, Doc, if a crime scene tech is coming over, don't you think we should get our stuff out before he gets here?"

Phoenix acknowledged, "Yeah, that's probably a good call."

The team worked to get everything packed up and stowed in Geoff's truck before the crime scene investigator arrived. Geoff sat in the driver's seat with his feet propped up against the door. Phoenix and Echo were discussing the data collection plan for Howard's office. Howard paced up and down the sidewalk, looking at his watch, and questioning his sanity.

A few moments later, a Leon County crime scene van pulled up along the curb in front of 417 Cardinal Court. The van had no sooner stopped than Howard was at the driver's window.

Echo asked, "What do you think Howard's telling him, Phee?"

"He's probably telling him something about keeping an open mind and not to question what's going on." He winked at Geoff and continued, "Or he may be telling him how hot the Hispanic girl is and to mind his manners."

She narrowed her eyes and playfully punched Phoenix in the side. "You don't even want to piss me off in front of your college friend."

Howard backed away from the van as the technician climbed from the driver door. She took notice of Robbie Weaver almost immediately. He was a late twenty-something, tall and good-looking fellow with blue eyes. She had a weakness for blue eyes.

"Tell you what, Doc. I think I am going to see if I can help this guy out. Let him draw his own conclusion." She winked and walked back to join Howard and the young investigator.

Phoenix looked over at Geoff and said, "I don't know who is worse, you or her!"

"She is, of course," he replied.

They watched as Howard introduced her to Robbie. Echo shook his hand and offered a big smile.

"Happy to meet you," she replied, testing the strength of his grip and liking what she felt.

"Should we warn him?" laughed Geoff.

"You can if you want to, but I'm staying out of it."

Robbie pulled a big case from the back of the van and followed the attorney towards the front door. Howard looked over at Phoenix and, with a twitch of his head, invited the team to follow back into the house.

Howard held the door as Robbie and Echo entered, followed by Geoff and Phoenix. He fell in behind the rest of the team. They stopped precisely where Geoff had just an hour earlier been witness to a crime that happened nearly a year before. He was still recovering from the effects of the trance.

Echo introduced Robbie to her teammates. "Robbie, this is my boss, Phoenix Worthy." Phoenix reached out and shook the technician's hand. "He is our team leader.

"And this is Geoff Davies. He's sort of a consultant who works with us." Robbie shook Geoff's hand.

"Good to meet you, lad," Geoff replied and shook the young man's hand.

"Same here," Robbie said, quickly sizing up the PRI team. "Howard told me a little about you guys. I don't really believe in this ghost stuff, but I promise you I will be open minded."

"That's fair enough," Phoenix responded. "Just let the evidence speak for itself."

"It always does."

He placed his case down on the floor, flipped the latches and opened it, exposing a array of chemicals, brushes, and electronics used to detect various types of hidden evidence. He selected a small spray bottle containing Luminol, a yellowish liquid that glows with a slight fluorescent sheen when sprayed on an area where blood has spilled. Blood evidence can remain for several years, unseen to the naked eye, and the chemical can still uncover evidence of its existence.

"Let's hope the house cleaners didn't use a lot of bleach in there to clean up. Bleaching agents tend to fluoresce just like blood, effectively camouflaging any evidence." Robbie pulled the curtains and turned off the overhead light. "That should be dark enough."

Robbie walked into the kitchen with the rest of the crew following right behind. He looked directly at Geoff and asked, "Where should I start?"

Geoff pointed towards the back door. "Try over there, around the countertop and along the cabinets."

He walked over by the back door and sprayed the countertop and the wooden facing of the lower cabinets. Within a few seconds the distinctive blue glow of Luminol indicated a slight presence of blood splatter along the lower cabinet closest to the back door.

"Over here, Mr. Wallace."

Phoenix followed Howard over to the spot where Robbie had just sprayed the chemical.

"Well, I'll be damned," Howard said in a quizzical tone before continuing, "You know this doesn't really prove anything. One, we don't know if it is the McKenzie woman's blood, and two... even if it is, there is nothing to say this blood didn't happen before the murder, or sometime later by one of the house cleaners.

"All you have here is theory, conjecture and a vision from a clairvoyant. The D.A. is not going to want to do anything with this. In her eyes, this case is closed." He studied the glow and considered the different possibilities. "Not to mention the guys at the crime lab. They are definitely not going to like their work being questioned by an outsider."

Phoenix looked at his friend and pointed out, "Like it or not, if an innocent man has been convicted, it means there is a killer out there somewhere who needs to be brought to justice. You don't want another victim's blood on your hands, do you?"

Howard knew with every fiber of his being that Phoenix was right. The laws he had been sworn to protect said, innocent until proven guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he was beginning to have doubts.

"Robbie, can you get enough for a DNA sample from this?" asked Howard.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm going to go over the kitchen and see if there is anything else here. Perhaps I'll find a better spatter." He shook his head in disbelief. The guys who had worked this scene had become good friends and did not want to believe they blew the investigation to this degree.

"Can you get results overnight?" Howard knew it was crucial to nail down the blood before going to the D.A. with this information.

"That is going to be a little tougher. The state crime lab is the only one in town with the gear to do it that quickly and they are backed up for several days."

"Well, see what you can do. If you need me to pull in a favor, give me a call."

"Will do, Mr. Wallace. I suppose you want me to keep this to myself until you figure out what you are going to do?"

"This gets out to nobody. I'll let you finish up here. Just give me a call when you are done."

The Phoenix Rising team and Howard stepped back into the living room. Geoff looked at his watch and said, "It is getting pretty late in the day, Phee. We should probably get back to Howard's office and set up there. Maybe grab a bite to eat on the way."

Echo was standing by the entrance to the kitchen watching Robbie work the scene. "I'm ready when you are, Doc, but definitely some dinner is in order."

Phoenix quickly evaluated the events of the day and said, "I've got a better idea. Let's go get a good dinner and head back to the hotel. We can go over today's data tonight and get some rest. Be ready to hit the ground running in the morning."

Geoff knew Phoenix was looking out for him, but did not want them to stop on his account. "I'm okay, Phee. Get some dinner in me and I can go back to it this evening."

Echo quickly chimed in. "Pipe down, Geoff, I think the doc has a good plan. Frankly, I could use a good night's sleep before hauling the gear upstairs to his office, considering I hauled it all in here by myself."

"What are you talking about?" Geoff asked.

Phoenix interrupted, "You're outvoted Geoff. Let's go eat." He looked over at Howard and asked, "Are you going to join us for dinner?"

"I'd better get home tonight and get a few things done around the house; perhaps tomorrow night. I'll see you at my office in the morning at nine."

"Sounds good to me."

They were getting ready to hit the front door when Robbie shouted, "Hey, Echo. I hope to see you tomorrow!"

Looking back over her shoulder with a coy smile, she replied, "Me too, Robbie."

# Chapter 7 - The Hunt for Chance McKenzie

Echo sat by the window of the Dixie Diner; her eyes moved from side to side following the flow of traffic on the distant highway. She felt the weight of a day barely begun and a night's sleep hard to come by. Her thoughts drifted back to the McKenzie house and how Geoff described the brutal attack. Images of her young son flooded her thoughts; how she should be there to take him in her arms and hold him, to let him know he was loved and how she would always be there to protect him.

"Where are you?" she barely heard Geoff ask. "Got that young crime scene tech on your mind?"

She turned back to face him, tossed a napkin across the table and said, "I'm not always thinking about guys, you know!"

Phoenix gave Geoff a quick nudge with his elbow. "I imagine after what you described yesterday, her thoughts are on her little guy back in Savannah."

She got wide eyed and stared at Phoenix, "How do you do that? How do you peer inside me and know what I am thinking?"

"You're a mother. How could you not be thinking about your son after hearing about what happened to that young family?"

Echo replied, "Well, it's unnerving and I wish you'd stop doing it."

"Speaking of family, whatever happened to the McKenzie boys?" Geoff asked.

"Howard told me they ended up living with an aunt in Jacksonville." He paused before adding, "This whole thing stinks from top to bottom and those boys losing their parents that way could be the worst of it."

Phoenix stood and pitched a five-dollar bill onto the table, "We need to get going. If you two are through playing footsies under the table, let's head over to Howard's office. There's a ghost waiting for us."

* * * * *

Phoenix walked into the lawyer's building with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Echo and Geoff stayed at the truck sorting through the equipment they would need. He turned the corner into Howard's office and found his old friend sitting in a side chair staring at the open file on his desk.

"Good morning, Howard. Are you okay?"

He barely acknowledged Phoenix with a short reply. "No, I suppose I am not."

He stood, walked to the window, and peered over the courthouse across the square and continued, "When I was in law school, all I could think about was practicing law, doing good and serving the community." Turning back to face Phoenix, he finished, "I never once questioned if I was doing the right thing or not – until yesterday."

Phoenix gathered his thoughts, placed a hand on his shoulder and said simply, "You can't blame yourself for this. We all make mistakes, but the measure of our character is how we clean up after ourselves."

"I may have cost an innocent man his life."

"There were other forces at work from day one. Right or wrong, you didn't have much of a choice, considering the pressure you had from the D.A. Now you have a chance to set this thing right," Phoenix paused and added. "Most people don't get second chances."

Howard glanced back at Phoenix. "We're going to find who did this."

"That we are, my friend – that we are."

Geoff stuck his head in the door. "Do you chaps need a minute or can we set up in here?" Echo walked past him in the hallway, taking the instruments to the conference room.

"Give us a few minutes," said Phoenix. "You guys get set up down the hall first, then in here."

"Right-o, Phee." Equipment in hand, Geoff turned and followed Echo down the hall.

Phoenix turned and pointed to Howard's chair, "Sit down a minute. There are a couple of things that have been bothering me; I need to ask you some questions. Your answers will help me understand what happened."

Howard took his seat and said, "What do you want to know?"

"It seems to me there was a rush to judgment here. Why did the prosecutor's office seem to overlook some glaring points of evidence in this case?"

"Phee, we knew early on this case was built on some flimsy circumstantial stuff and very little physical evidence. Still, there were no other suspects and everything pointed to the husband. The McKenzies had a history of fighting. Sheriff's deputies had been over there twice in the previous year on a domestic dispute call. According to a couple of witnesses, Janet McKenzie seemed afraid of her husband.

"The morning of the call, the first officer on the scene found Chance holding his wife's body. He was covered in her blood. The murder weapon was wiped clean with a towel. There was no evidence anyone else had been there - no forced entry, no unknown fingerprints." Looking up at Phoenix, he continued. "I thought the crime lab had been over the place thoroughly. I guess I was wrong."

"Let's wait for the DNA evidence to come back before we think along those lines," Phoenix injected.

Phoenix walked over to the window and gazed onto the parking lot below. He squinted as the morning sun reflected off the cars. "Who interviewed the husband first?" Phoenix asked, still staring out the window.

"Detective Hawkins, talked to him first. His story never changed from that initial interview. He said he came home from work, like he always did, and found his wife lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the living room. He said he got down on his knees and held her against him. After a few minutes, he got up and called 9-1-1.

"The story never changed, even after several hours in the interrogation room at the sheriff's department. Finally, the District Attorney showed up and told us to charge McKenzie with murder. I wanted more time to build a stronger case, but she insisted."

Phoenix looked back at Howard and asked, "Why's that? What was the rush?"

Wanting to hide his discomfort, Howard leaned forward and placed his head into his folded hands. "I think we all knew, but nobody would say it. It was right before the election and the D.A. wanted swift closure to this case. There was no way the trial was going to happen before the election, but at least she got her headlines.

"Anyway, we charged him for Janet's murder that night. He was arraigned the next morning and Judge Parker assigned a public defender."

Phoenix picked up the case file and scanned the cover sheet. He glanced back at Howard over the brim of his glasses and asked, "Dennis Sessions?"

"That's the guy, a pretty fair attorney, but seems a bit scattered. The prosecutors love him, because he just does enough to get by without jeopardizing his license and you're almost guaranteed a win. I don't want to say he is a bad attorney. He can hold his own in a courtroom. He just seems a little lazy."

"How did he do defending McKenzie?"

Howard looked up and without a hesitation replied, "In typical Dennis Sessions fashion, he just seemed to skate through the trial. A few times during the proceedings, I looked at my assistant and shrugged my shoulders in disbelief. I was sure he would object to a line of questioning, but didn't. Other times he would object when it was clear to me it would be overruled."

Phoenix stopped his friend and asked, "Do you think he deliberately sabotaged the defense?"

"I don't know, Phee. At the time I thought maybe he was leaving some things uncontested for appeal purposes, but now I just don't know."

Phoenix sat down in the side chair facing Howard. He tapped the end of his ink pen against his teeth and said, "I want to arrange a visit to meet this Sessions guy." He considered strategy and added, "I also want to go up to the prison this afternoon and meet the prisoner who killed McKenzie. Can we do that?"

Howard reached for the telephone. "I'll have to call the warden and see if I can arrange it. The prisoner may want to have his attorney present, since he is being formally charged with McKenzie's murder."

He stopped in mid action and laid the phone back down on the desk, "It just occurred to me. His attorney was Dennis Sessions."

Phoenix stood, "If at all possible, I'd like to see him without his attorney being there."

"I'll see what I can do."

Phoenix headed down the hall to join the rest of his team. When he turned the corner into the conference room, Echo was finishing up the computers and monitors. Geoff was standing by the table untangling cables.

"How is it coming in here?" he asked.

She looked up from the thermal data recorder. "We're just about through. All that's left is running the cables down the hall and setting up the cameras and such in the office."

Phoenix set his laptop on the counter by the Internet ports. "I'm going to check my e-mails and do a little research. Let me know when you are ready to go."

"Si, Senor Phee," was Echo's short reply.

Later, while Echo and Geoff busily finished setting up the gear in his office, Howard stuck his head through the doorway and asked, "Where's Phoenix?"

Geoff looked up from the camera he was working on and pointed down the hall. "Last I saw he was sitting in the conference room checking e-mails and letting us do the work. Bleeding perks of leadership."

Howard chuckled and walked down the hall, the loud clicks of his heels verifying the emptiness of the office building. He walked into the conference room and found his friend focused on his laptop screen.

He pulled out the chair beside Phoenix and sat down. "I talked to the warden. Here's the deal. Because I am with the prosecutor's office, they don't want me talking to him without his attorney. However, they did say you could come out and visit just like any member of his family. We'll go out there and you can see him by yourself."

Phoenix took his eyes off the screen, looked at his friend and said, "That works for me. I just want to meet the guy and ask him a couple of questions about his connection to McKenzie. There seems to be no doubt he killed him, so maybe he will help us understand his motive."

Phoenix continued, "I've been checking out the public defender." He rotated his laptop so Howard could get a better view of the screen. A short biography of Dennis Sessions, Attorney at Law, filled the monitor.

"He graduated with honors from Indiana. He was top of his class in pre-law. He excelled in sports, starting as an offensive end on the football team for two years, and was very active in campus activities. He doesn't fit the description of a lazy man at all." Phoenix said.

"Are you thinking he is a suspect?"

"Let's just say I am compiling a list of people involved in the whole affair. His handling of the defense concerns me. In the absence of any hard evidence linking anyone to the crime, we are going to have to make some assumptions to come up with a profile of the killer."

Howard shook his head. "I'm not buying it, Phee. I know the guy. Where is the motive, the opportunity?"

Phoenix asked, "Okay, who you think did it?"

Howard fell momentarily silent and finally said. "If it wasn't McKenzie, I could not even venture a guess."

Phoenix concluded, "We might have to start with a guess. All I have is a list of people involved in the investigation, the prosecution, and the name of McKenzie's killer. That's as good enough a place as any to start."

Echo poked her head into the conference room and interrupted with, "We're ready to begin down here."

"Come on," Phoenix said. "Let's walk back down to your office and I will show you what we are doing."

Echo trailed behind her boss as they walked down the hall. "Watch out for the cables, you two," she said, referring to the bundles snaking along the wall connecting the equipment in the conference room to the devices in Howard's office. "I don't want to spend the day trying to find something you guys screwed up."

Geoff was sitting in a chair in front of Howard's desk, fiddling with a headset. The McKenzie file still sat open on the desk. "Did you get photos of everything in here?" Phoenix looked at Echo and asked.

She seemed slightly disturbed by the implication she would forget such a crucial step in the investigation. She replied with an irritated, "You know I did."

"Of course you did, but I had to ask." The investigator turned back to Howard and said, "I want you to put the file back into the cabinet just like you did the morning it kept moving."

Howard walked over to his desk, picked up the file, closed it and started to put it back into the still open cabinet.

"Be careful of the thermal sensor I taped to the side," Echo said, pointing to the metallic cylinder hanging on the file cabinet.

He closed the drawer, stepped back and started to press the lock on the cabinet.

"Wait!" he heard Phoenix say. "I don't recall you saying you locked the cabinet that morning."

"I don't think I did," he looked over at Phoenix. "It was unlocked. I'm sure of it."

"Okay, then, leave it that way and we'll see if anything happens."

Howard looked at the video camera facing Geoff and the other camera covering the whole office. "You don't think you are going to be able to videotape the file moving around in my office; do you?"

Phoenix laughed, "I'm pretty confident you won't be seeing floating files. I've been doing this for many years now and have yet to see anything sail across a room that wasn't thrown."

He scanned the area and took a quick inventory of sensor placement. Besides the one hanging on the side of the file cabinet, there was one on the desk, one by the window, and another by the door. She also had one installed in the hallway to baseline the building's ambient temperature.

"Eck, did you not think this would be a good place to use the new Thermal Imaging camera?" Phoenix quizzed his young technician.

"I thought about it but decided not to. We got some pretty good film over at the McKenzie house yesterday, but there wasn't anywhere near the daylight coming in from outside."

She pointed at the tall windows in Howard's office. "There is so much UV and IR light pouring in from the outside, I'm afraid it won't be of much use in here. Until I really figure out how to tune it for daylight usage, I don't believe we would get much useful video out of it."

Phoenix seemed disappointed, but trusting his technician said, "I'll take your word for it."

He turned back to Howard. "It looks like everything is set in here. Geoff is going to go into a trance-state to see if he can connect with whatever force is here. We'll be able to watch from the conference room."

Phoenix tapped Geoff on the shoulder and said, "Have fun."

Geoff smiled, "I don't know where you get the bloody idea that sticking my nose into a ghost's business is fun."

"Well, it is fun for me watching you do it." Phoenix started towards the door and continued, "I'll tell you when we are ready."

"Right-o."

Echo did a final check on the EEG leads. "You will try to keep from disconnecting these in the course of your trance, right?"

"As sure as Keith Richards is an ugly bugger, you know I will."

After one final glance around the room, Echo shot Geoff a big thumbs-up and joined Phoenix and Howard back in the conference room. Phoenix put on a headset and said into the microphone, "Can you hear me?"

Geoff's voice could easily be heard over the slight static of the small speaker sitting beside Echo's computer. "Loud and clear, chief."

Phoenix studied the monitor overlooking the office. Geoff was shifting his head from side to side, preparing his neck muscles for the strain of the upcoming psychic workout. "As soon as we confirm all the instruments, we'll get this show on the road."

"Any time, Phee. I'm ready."

Echo looked up from the EEG recorder and did a final check of the temperature connections. "Everything looks good here, Doc."

Phoenix reached down and started the time. "The clock is running, Geoff. Good hunting."

"Watch my back," they heard Geoff say.

"Okay, Howard, now comes the waiting part. You might as well get comfortable." Phoenix looked at his watch. It was eleven forty-five. "A lot of times he doesn't hit anything, but when he does, it is usually well into his trance."

Echo chimed in, "He almost never connects within the first thirty minutes, so I'm going for coffee. Do you want some?"

Phoenix smiled and said, "Absolutely!"

Howard looked over at Echo and said, "I'll walk down there with you. You'll never get my mix right." He was looking forward to a few minutes alone with Echo to ask a couple of questions about her boss.

Down in the coffee room, she poured freshly brewed coffee into three cups. She saw no need to get Geoff any tea until his trance was over.

As Howard was adding sugar and cream to his, he asked, "Tell me something. How is Phoenix doing? He seems much happier since the last time I saw him."

Echo seemed a little disturbed and looked back at the prosecutor. "That's really a question you should ask him. He will tell you."

"I will, but I thought I would get your perspective."

Echo thought about it for a few seconds and replied, "From my perspective, he is doing great. Between PRI, that boat of his, and the relationship with his daughter, he is one of the happiest guys I know. Now let's get back in there. We don't want to miss anything." She gathered up the coffee and headed back towards the conference room.

They were just down the hall when she heard Phoenix shout, "Echo!"

She rushed forward with Howard close behind. She turned the corner into the room to see Phoenix leaning over the EEG machine. "What's wrong, Doc?"

"I was watching his vitals when his body temp took a nose dive. He's dropped two degrees in three minutes. It didn't appear normal."

Normal is a debatable topic when dealing with Phoenix Worthy or any events surrounding his team. She looked at the charts on the machine. "It does seem a little odd, but it correlates with the sharp drop in the ambient temperature," she said, as she pointed to the charts on the temperature recorder. "See how the temps have dropped on all the sensors in the office?"

Phoenix studied the graphs. Each of the sensors in the office had rapidly fallen off seven degrees over a four-minute period. The sensor in the hallway was still steady at seventy-one. It was ten degrees colder in the office than the hallway.

Phoenix looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after twelve. "It seems this ghost is in a hurry to talk to Geoff."

Howard was looking at the charts on the EEG. "Is that normal?"

Echo looked over his shoulder. "It's normal for his trance-state when he's communicating."

Several minutes passed with no change in the level of the EEG data. The temperatures fluctuated one or two degrees during this period and Phoenix was beginning to wonder how much data would be usable.

Geoff said nothing during this whole episode until his voice broke the silence in the office. Very few words were understandable. He spoke mostly gibberish. It sounded like... (unintelligible) "knife"... "prison"... (unintelligible) "Janet."

Phoenix studied Geoff's facial expressions on the monitor. His head thrashed side to side as he spoke these words. Then, just as quickly as it started, Geoff went silent and absolutely still.

"What's his heart rate?" Phoenix asked.

Echo looked at the graphs. "It just settled in at seventy-two beats per minute. It was just up around ninety."

Howard asked, "What's he doing?"

Phoenix looked back at the video monitor. Geoff was slowly standing up.

"I don't know," said Echo. "He's never done that before. He always stays in the chair." She started chewing on a cuticle, exposing the depth of her concern.

She reached over and touched Phoenix's arm, asking in a concerned voice, "Should we pull him out of trance before he gets tangled up in something?"

"No," Phoenix replied. "Let's see where this goes."

All three of them stood watching Geoff in the monitor. He walked over to the window and looked out. He walked back to the desk and stared into the camera. There was no emotion in his face. His constant grin had given way to a distant gaze of indifference.

He continued over to the cabinet, opened the drawer, and removed a file. He opened the file on Howard's desk and returned to his chair. Within seconds, he lowered his head to his chest.

"Damn, Phee, look at this." Echo pointed to the EEG readout. The display showed a rapid fall-off in brain activity. It dropped almost instantly to Geoff's normal brain function rhythm. "That is the damnedest thing I have ever seen."

"What did we just see?" Howard asked. "What happened in there?"

"You saw what I saw," Phoenix replied. "Until he comes out of it, we won't really know what went on."

Geoff leaned forward into his open hands. Through the small speaker, the sounds of a soft moan could be heard, "Oh, my head."

Echo bolted down the hall, followed closely by the rest of the crew. She was already starting to remove the EEG leads when Phoenix walked around in front of Geoff. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I've been on a bleeding pub crawl for a week. What happened? I barely remember anything."

Phoenix glanced at Howard and immediately back to Geoff. "What do you remember?"

Geoff looked up at Phoenix and said, "I went into the trance like always. I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary at first, but then I started to feel a presence." He paused before continuing. "It was the same thing I felt yesterday when we got here. I sense it to be angry but not dangerous. Then it was like someone pulled a veil over my eyes. Things just sort of went dark and the next thing I knew, Echo was here tugging at these blasted cables."

Howard chimed in, "You mean you don't remember opening..."

Phoenix raised the palm of his left hand towards Howard cutting him off mid-sentence. "Let's give him a few minutes to come out of it." He patted the Brit on his shoulder saying, "Join us in the conference room when you are finished."

He looked over at Howard and quietly said, "Let's go back down the hall and wait for Geoff."

Echo piped in, "I'll finish this and be down there shortly. Should we go ahead and break all this gear down?"

"No," he said, looking around at all the devices. "Leave the sensors in place. I'd like you to set up the Infrared camera in here for this evening with a motion and sound-activated trigger. We'll let it record overnight."

"Got it, Phee." Echo went about the business of getting Geoff's cabling situated. He was still a little groggy from the effects of his trance. Phoenix and Howard returned to the conference room.

"What did I do that has Phoenix perturbed?" asked Geoff.

"Come on, guy," Echo responded. "You didn't do anything; you know how he is. He doesn't want to influence your statements. I am sure he is in there telling Howard the same thing right now."

Echo, for all her inexperience, would be amazed at how accurate her perceptions could be. Phoenix was in the conference room doing exactly that.

"Sorry I cut you off in there. I didn't want you to influence any statement Geoff might make when he is completely out of the trance."

Phoenix sat at the computer and started to go back through the recording. He pulled a chair out beside him, "Here, Howard, sit down."

He sat down and watched Phoenix go back through the recording of Geoff's experience. They sat silently at the terminal and viewed a replay of Geoff going to the file cabinet and moving the file back onto Howard's desk. Just as he was sitting back down, something caught Phoenix's eyes. "Did you see that?" he asked Howard.

"See what?"

Phoenix rewound the video a few frames and in slow motion started the video forward again. Frame by frame, Howard watched Geoff slowly begin sitting back down in the chair. Just about the time he was fully seated and beginning to lean back, what appeared to be a slightly translucent mist flew off quickly to the right side of the British medium and disappeared.

"What the hell?"

# Chapter 8 - Ghostly Image

Phoenix played the segment a couple of times, adjusting the contrast and saturation of the image, trying to get a better-defined video. "That's as good as I can get it," he said. "I've slowed it down as much as I can and still can't get a clear image of what it is. Maybe Echo can improve it later."

"Okay, Phee, you've sold me," the prosecutor said with a bit of amazement in his voice. "What do you think we are dealing with here?"

"That's exactly what I'd like to know!" Geoff said, crossing the threshold of the conference room with Echo close on his heels. He turned up a half-full bottle of water and took a big drink. "I've never felt anything like that before. Do you have any ideas?" he asked, looking directly at Doctor Worthy.

Howard stood and pointed Geoff to the chair. "Why don't you take a seat here and see for yourself?"

"Did Echo tell you anything?" asked Phoenix.

"You know I didn't say anything to him, Doc," she said, a slight sound of aggravation in her tone. "I know how you operate."

Phoenix chuckled. "I know." He pointed a finger towards the monitor. "Here, Geoff, watch this."

The video started at a point just a few seconds before Geoff got up and walked to the window. "I don't remember being out of the chair," he said.

"Actually, that doesn't surprise me at all," Phoenix added. "Ghost possession is rare, but when it happens, it is very common for the host not to remember anything about it."

Geoff's eyes fixed on the computer screen as he watched himself go to the cabinet, remove the file, and spread it out on Howard's desk. "Watch closely," Phoenix said. "Right here."

"What is that little shimmer of light as I started sitting back down?"

Phoenix played it again for Geoff in slow motion. It looked like a quick flash of light or something was exiting his body and the area around the chair. "The odd thing is how stable your EEG was through the duration of the event."

Geoff compared the timelines of the video with the EEG graphs. Clearly visible was the beginning of the possession and precisely where it ended. The readings on the strip chart settled into an even oscillation during Geoff's blackout.

Howard spoke up from behind them, "I hate to interject something here, but do you think this might have something to do with how the files got moved in the first place?"

Phoenix explained, "Ghost possessions have been recorded time and time again throughout the ages. Although the early tales are born in superstition, misunderstanding, or in many cases, emotional or mental disturbances, some of these events are likely true possessions. It was as recently as the latter part of the twentieth century before these circumstances were regarded with any plausibility; prior to that time, they were likely to have been discarded as mental illness or delusion.

"We know very little about the mechanisms by which a ghost might possess a human being. It is widely thought a person of certain psychic abilities, like Geoff, could create a channel within himself, allowing a spirit to consume his physical awareness."

"And you think that is what happened to me? You think I moved the files?" Howard quizzed.

"It would certainly explain a few things," Phoenix said looking back at his friend. "I remember you telling me how cold it was in here the morning the files first moved. It is possible you were under a ghostly influence of sorts and moved the file yourself. What you remember are the memories given to you by the possessing spirit."

Howard suddenly felt ill and his knees began to buckle. He pulled another chair away from the conference table and sat down. "Everything that morning seemed so real." He lifted his head up sharply, "And what about the file over in the Sheriff's office?"

Phoenix thought for a moment. "Yeah, that does add to the mystery, one that we can figure out later, but I am leaning toward a ghostly possession to explain what happened here." He looked over at Geoff with a hopeful smile. "I think, if this highly talented British medium can connect with your ghost without letting it take over, it would go a long way to solving this thing."

Geoff beamed. "You don't have to butter me up, Doc. I can beef-up my defenses and be ready to give that bloke another jolly go of it tomorrow."

Phoenix continued, "That's jolly good, young man. Maybe finding the answers here will point us in the right direction."

He grabbed Geoff by the shoulder. "I need you to try to nail down where this spirit is coming from. We have some decent video evidence as it is, but I would like to do an evening session with the infrared camera."

"Tomorrow night then," Geoff said, "I'll be ready."

Phoenix pointed to the clock and said, "It is almost two. Let's take the data we have back to the hotel and document the timeline." He looked back over at Echo and said, "You can come back over later and set up the infrared camera for tonight."

Howard asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Phoenix nodded for Howard to follow him down the hall. They walked into Howard's office. "Do you have a file on Chance McKenzie's killer?"

Howard opened the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled out a brown manila folder. "I thought you might want to see this, so I pulled it yesterday."

He handed the folder to his friend and said, "I've known the Fontaine kid since I started working in the D.A.'s office. He has been in an out of here on petty charges since he was a juvenile."

Phoenix opened the file and began reading all about Derek Fontaine. At twenty-seven years old, he had spent more time behind bars in the last decade than he had on the street. Scanning the rap sheet, Phoenix saw nothing to indicate a pattern of violence common with habitual criminals. These were charges of larceny, bad checks, drunken driving and a conviction for cocaine possession.

"How is he related to Janet McKenzie?"

"It's a little convoluted, but he's the son of the sister of her uncle's wife," Howard said.

"Were they close?

"I don't think so."

Phoenix finished scanning the pages. He turned to look at the window and considered his next move. Looking back at Howard, he said, "Tomorrow I want to go out to the prison and meet this Derek Fontaine."

Howard nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

With little remaining for them to do at the prosecutor's office, Phoenix and Howard left the rest of the PRI team in the conference room gathering the data and setting up for the evenings recording.

"We'll meet you back at the hotel in a little while," Phoenix said to his team, as he walked past the conference room. "Try to be back there no later than five. Howard doesn't know it yet, but he is buying dinner tonight."

"We'll be there, Chief," shouted Geoff as he was closing the straps on the monitor case. "I'm starved!"

Howard and Phoenix stood at the back of the Land Cruiser talking about the morning's events. Phoenix pulled out a small cigar, clipped off the end, and lit it with the lighter his daughter had given him for Christmas the previous year. What he liked most about the lighter was not how well it lit his cigar, but how it reminded him to call Denise. He made a mental note to do so on the drive back to the hotel.

"I thought you gave those things up," Howard said.

Phoenix took another draw off the fine cigar, letting the smoke float into his nose so he could savor the bold aroma of the sweet Dominican tobacco. "It is my last real vice, unless you want to talk about that waitress at Denny's."

"Not really," Howard snickered. "I'll see you back at the hotel no later than six. It appears that I am buying dinner and I know just the place." He climbed into his truck and drove away.

Phoenix leaned against his Land Cruiser, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and savoring each draw of his cigar. He used the quiet time to reflect on the day's events, plotting out different scenarios and plans of action. He watched a county squad car turn the corner into the parking lot and slowly roll towards him. The green stripe and the gold star emblazoned in front of the word SHERIFF on the side of the vehicle identified it as a Leon county officer. The cruiser rolled to a stop right behind Phoenix, blocking the Toyota into its parking space. The deputy left the car running as he climbed out and walked over to where Phoenix stood. Phoenix quickly sized up the large muscular deputy as someone you did not want to cross.

"Mr. Worthy?" the young man said, extending his hand in greeting.

"Yes," he replied and shook the deputy's bulky hand.

"I'm Deputy John Brown. My friends call me J.C." He looked nervously around the parking lot, relieved to find them standing alone in the parking lot. "I need to talk to you for a few minutes. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. How can I help you?"

"Here," he said, pointing to the passenger seat of his patrol car. "Get in. I'd rather not stand around here, if you don't mind."

Phoenix opened the door and climbed into the front seat of the Crown Vic. The array of technology was impressive for a small county sheriff's department. A small video camera was mounted above the rearview mirror. A laptop perched on a swivel arm gave the Deputy quick access to the NCIC/FCIC (National Crime Information Center/Florida Crime Information Center) and CJIS (Criminal Justice Information System) databases. This ensured the quickest means of communication when dealing with citizens in the field.

Deputy Brown climbed into the driver's seat, pulled the gear shifter into drive, and drove off. As he made the slow turn onto Municipal Way, he picked up his radio microphone, keyed the button and said, "Forty-Seven to base."

"Go, Forty-Seven."

"I am Ten-Six with citizen on Municipal Way, over"

"Roger, Forty-Seven, Ten-Four on Ten-Six, out."

"So, let me guess," Phoenix looked over at the patrol officer. "You got elected to find out what is going on, what we're doing here, and you decided to take the direct approach."

Officer Brown grinned. "I wish it were that simple. I've been a deputy for Leon County almost ten years. I think about it sometimes and find this crap so hard to believe. We have good people here." He made another left-hand turn, heading off in a direction very familiar to the investigator.

He pulled off his sunglasses, looked over at Phoenix and said, "Sometimes, though, I think our District Attorney is an idiot."

"What makes you say that?"

Phoenix looked into the deputy's eyes and found they betrayed a deep emotional pain. "I grew up with Chance McKenzie. We played football together and he was my best friend for as long as I can remember. I went to church with him and Janet; we'd go fishing together. I got on the Department and we drifted a little apart over time, only because we had different interests. One thing I do know about Chance McKenzie – he is no killer."

"You say that because you know him or because you have evidence clearing him?

"Because I knew him; I know how he felt about Janet. Yeah, they had some problems, like a lot of people, but that doesn't mean he would kill her."

The deputy made the left turn onto Cardinal Court and pulled to the curb in front of the McKenzie house. Phoenix looked out the passenger window at the empty home where just yesterday they all but confirmed Officer Brown's assessment. Slowly turning back to look directly at J.C. Brown, he said, "Tell me something, Deputy. If Chance didn't kill her, who do you think did?"

"I've asked myself the same question a hundred times and, I tell you, I just don't know. I talked to the investigators and they all assured me the evidence was pretty clear. They never pursued any suspects other than Chance. To me it just seemed like a D.A.'s witch hunt with Chance being the witch."

Phoenix studied the face of the young sheriff's deputy. He sized him up pretty quickly as someone who could be a fierce friend and with evident loyalty to McKenzie. "What are you not telling me?" he asked.

J.C. tossed his sunglasses onto the dash. Almost like he was fearful of being overheard in the confines of his patrol car, he whispered, "Chance came to me the night he died."

"When you say he came to you, I'm guessing you don't mean he left the jail, came to your house, carried on a conversation, and went back to jail to get murdered."

"No, I mean a very dead Chance McKenzie came into my dreams. At that point I didn't know he was dead. I found out the next morning. He told me he was going to take care of some things at the prosecutor's office to get them looking at the case again. He asked me to do something, to take care of something for him at the sheriff's office." The tone of his voice indicated his reluctance to have this conversation with the "Ghost Doctor," as some of his department peers had already labeled Phoenix Worthy.

"What is it he asked you to do?" Phoenix had a pretty good idea what that might be but was anxious to hear it from the deputy.

After a brief silence J.C. confessed, "I was the one who set up the file at the Sheriff's office. Chance asked me to do it. He said he needed to make sure someone would be looking into the case after his death. I didn't know what to think about it. I thought it was a bad dream, until I heard the next morning about Chance being killed. Later, with all the stuff going on in Mr. Wallace's office, I knew what I had to do."

"Why are you telling me this now?" asked Phoenix.

"I didn't want your investigation to be headed down a dead end because of me. I figured I'd just tell you and ask you to keep it to yourself, if at all possible."

Phoenix's cell phone rang, breaking the quiet confines of the patrol car. "Just a second," he said and pushed the button on his phone. "Phoenix Worthy."

He listened for a few moments and said, "Just wait for me at the truck. I'll be there in a few minutes." He ended the call, looked at J.C. and said, "Let's head back, if you don't mind. The rest of my team noticed my truck still in the parking lot and wondered what was going on." He smiled. "I think they're just being nosey."

The patrol car pulled away from the McKenzie house. They rode together, each in their thoughts for a short while before Phoenix broke the silence by saying, "I appreciate your coming forward. It helps a lot, and I will try to keep this between us, but no promises. I had already decided that what took place in the Sheriff's office was human in nature. It seemed a little too sterile and staged."

He continued, "I should probably tell you that I am convinced that your friend Chance was innocent."

J.C. Brown smiled and said, "Thanks."

Echo and Geoff were waiting at the back of Geoff's truck. They had a look of disbelief when they saw the boss man pull up in the front seat of a county sheriff's car. Phoenix opened the passenger door. Before getting out he shook the young deputy's hand. "Thank you for your time. I'm glad you came to me with this. I may call on you later for a favor, if I need something."

Deputy Brown nodded, handed Phoenix one of his cards, and said, "No problem." He shut the patrol car door and drove away.

"What was that all about?" Geoff asked.

"Let's just say he had some useful information that will ensure we focus in the right direction."

Geoff understood he was asking a question that Phoenix did not want to answer. He had learned to read his boss like a good book since they began working together.

Echo watched her two peers dance mentally around the unspoken. She quietly chuckled at the nature of their interaction. Learning from each side of the equation, the educated boss and the witty Brit, you had to be aware of the things not being said as well. They were each very stubborn, and yet they had learned to give and take, ensuring the total was greater than the sum of its parts.

She said, "When you two are finished figuring out what each of you don't want to say, I'm hungry, and I want to shower before we go eat." She continued, "Hey, Doc, do you think Howard would mind if I asked Robbie to join us for dinner?"

Echo followed Phoenix around to the driver's side of the truck. She stood there as he, seemingly oblivious to her presence, climbed into the driver's seat. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the good doctor through the closed window of his truck. He looked back at Echo and replied, "I think that is a fantastic idea. I'd like to quiz him about where they are on the forensics of the McKenzie house."

She shot back, "I wasn't inviting him for you!" and turned to walk to Geoff's truck. Geoff sat there waiting for her to get in. He looked over at Phoenix and grinned, thinking how much the boss loved tormenting the Latina technician and how she could be incredibly vulnerable where an object of her affection was involved.

The ride back to the hotel was all too quiet.

# Chapter 9 - Derek Fontaine

Visiting hours at Central Prison were between two and four on Sunday afternoons. Howard picked Phoenix up at twelve-thirty for the hour-long drive out there. The prison was a medium security facility operated by a private contractor. The warden was characterized by his discipline and firm grip over the prison population, the guards, and anyone else who came through the gates. Chance's death in the prison yard was the first since Warden Conte took over three years before.

As they were leaving the city limits, Phoenix glanced at Howard and said, "Echo will be going through all the data from the past couple of days. She does a really great job of documenting the investigation and compartmentalizing the report. Geoff, I suspect, is still a little hung over from last night."

Howard laughed. "I thought the British were well known for their drinking stamina. For someone who should be used to drinking pints at the corner pub, he sure got hammered pretty fast."

"He has always been able to drink on the cheap. It just doesn't take much for that guy." Phoenix added, "Oh, and Echo wanted me to thank you for dinner. The ribs were fall-off-the-bone good, just like you said.

"I wanted to take you to a great local place and the Saucy Rib Shack has been around for a long time. Best ribs in five counties."

He continued, "I didn't think she was into the ribs that much, but she has taken a liking to that Weaver kid. I don't know if it's him or his crime lab equipment that attracts her."

Phoenix smiled. "I suspect a little of both. I have never seen her stay in a relationship very long. She got burned badly by her ex-husband and she keeps her heart pretty close. Still, she does like to flirt and carry on with the young men."

Phoenix turned his head to watch the landscape of North Florida flash by outside his window. The live oak and bald Cyprus trees common to the area were especially lovely this time of the year. He watched an egret spread its large wings and swoop into the marshy grass searching for a morning meal. The swamp water splashed as the bird landed on some unsuspecting creature.

Without taking his eyes off the egret, Phoenix prodded, "Tell me about Derek Fontaine."

"It's a pretty typical story these days. Derek is serving a seven-year stretch for possession with intent to distribute cocaine. Not long after the McKenzie murder, he was arrested during a DEA sting of suspected drug dealers. He has been in and out of prison since doing a nine-month stint in juvenile detention when he was just sixteen.

"Then before his nineteenth birthday, he was arrested for breaking and entering, and ended up doing a three-to-five in minimum security.

"I prosecuted him on another breaking and entering three years ago, but the case got thrown out for illegal search and seizure. The judge ruled the deputy had no reason to search the suspect's vehicle. Dennis Sessions was his counsel and that was the first time I had ever seen him pull something like that off. He rubbed it in every time I saw him for the next few weeks."

"Does Fontaine seem like the violent type?"

"No, he doesn't," Howard continued. "As a matter of fact, he is a fairly likable guy; he's just a career criminal. He caught some bad breaks with his family situation growing up. His dad beat up his mom all the time and ended up going to prison for it. Damn near killed her in the Wal-Mart parking lot right in front of Derek. Can you believe that?" Howard shook his head. "It surprises me the kid did not grow up more like his father."

"Maybe he did."

Phoenix picked up his cell phone to make a call. Howard looked over and said, "You won't be using your phone for a while. There is no cell coverage out here for miles."

He closed the phone and put it back in his belt clip. "It wasn't that important. I just needed to call Jason and make sure he took care of some things on the boat."

After a couple of moments of silence Howard asked, "Are you still working on that old boat?"

"Yeah, or it's working on me, depending on the day."

"I understand that. Other than when I bought my old boat, the happiest day of my life was the day I sold it. It ended up being a big hole in the water to pour money into.

"Look here," Howard said and pointed to the big sign: Florida Department of Corrections, Work Camp and Annex. "We'll be there in a couple of minutes."

He made the right-hand turn and continued the quarter mile down the freshly paved main access road to the prison. Phoenix could see the high chain link fencing and the tall white towers set on each corner of the octagon shaped prison yard. A Visitor Parking sign directed Howard where to go. The lot was full of cars and trucks, old and new, belonging mostly to the families and friends of the residents.

They walked over to the visitors' entrance where a line of people had formed. It was eerily quiet among the small throng of visitors waiting to enter. Phoenix looked at his watch; it was a quarter to two. When they got into the waiting room, one of the guards walked over and asked, "One of you guys Howard Wallace?"

"That would be me," Howard said and raised his hand.

"Come this way," the correctional officer extended a hand towards the door to their right. They crossed the threshold, followed the guard a few yards down the empty hallway and into a small conference room. Warden Conte was sitting there waiting for them.

He stood, stretched out his hand and said, "It is good to see you again, Howard,"

Howard grabbed the warden's outstretched hand and said, "Same here. It's been a while. I would like you to meet Phoenix Worthy. He's my friend from Georgia we talked about yesterday."

"Phoenix reached out and shook the warden's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The warden nodded and looked back to the prosecutor. "I have to tell you, Howard, this whole business makes me a little uncomfortable. Fontaine's attorney was very adamant that he was not to be interrogated until he could be here. That silly 'right to counsel' thing, you know."

Howard grinned, "If anything is ever said about it, this is not a formal interrogation. Just treat Phoenix like a normal visitor. I'm not going to be there and it won't be recorded, so nothing said in this meeting could hurt any investigation. It is immaterial. Besides, what Phoenix is looking for is not even connected to Chance McKenzie's murder."

"Oh really?" The warden seemed puzzled. "What is this about then?"

Phoenix looked over at his friend wondering the same thing.

"He is doing some research into Janet McKenzie's death."

The warden's tone indicated he was somewhat unconvinced. "I will hold you personally responsible for any ramifications coming out of this. Tomorrow the investigation into McKenzie's murder kicks into gear. Dennis Sessions is supposed to be out here tomorrow morning to sit with his client during the interrogation."

He continued, "There is no doubt Fontaine did it. Two guards saw it happen. There were no other inmates around to cover it up. Considering the circumstances and the pile of evidence against Fontaine, I suspect we will finish before lunch."

Phoenix assured the warden, "I don't want this to look like it is any big secret. If his lawyer asks if anyone has seen him, just tell him I came out for a visit. I wouldn't mention anything about Howard being with me. I am going to see Sessions sometime this week anyway."

Howard glanced at his friend, as if to say, you are?

Warden Conte looked them over and said, "All right then. Howard, you can wait here." He turned back to the door and said to Phoenix, "Follow me, please."

He followed the warden through the door and down the hall stopping at a door labeled Conference Room III. The Warden opened the door and walked in with Phoenix close behind. Seated at a standard grey metal table bolted to the floor, was a prisoner with the number J62834 emblazoned across the pocket of his bright orange prison jumpsuit.

Derek Fontaine was a large man with shoulder length dirty blonde hair; a collection of dark tattoos stood out on thick muscular arms that had been developed by many hours spent in the prison weight room. A burly corrections officer stood beside the door watching over the prisoner.

"Fontaine, this is Phoenix Worthy. He is a special researcher and would like to ask you a few questions."

"What kind of researcher, and why isn't my attorney here if I am being questioned?"

Phoenix handed his business card to the inmate. "I look into paranormal circumstances for those willing to contract my services. I am not attached to law enforcement and am not here to talk to you about anything you've done."

Derek scanned the business card and tossed it back onto the table. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I came here to talk to you about Janet McKenzie. And you being family, I thought you might help me understand what happened. I need your help." Phoenix stuck out his hand in good faith.

The guard stepped forward. "No contact with the prisoner."

Phoenix looked back over at the Warden. "Could I get a few minutes alone to talk to Derek?"

The Warden looked at Phoenix and said, "Ten minutes, then he is going back to his cell." He motioned for the guard and they both headed towards the door. "Officer Johnson will be outside. Push this if you need him." The Warden pointed to the big red button along the wall as the door closed behind them.

Phoenix extended his hand again. Fontaine cautiously took the hand and said, "Okay, it's nice to meetcha. Now what's this about?"

Phoenix sat across the table across from Derek. "You read my card. Do you know what I do?"

"Not really." He looked at the card again. "I don't know what a paranormal investigator does."

"We look for things scientifically unexplainable. These could be things like extra-sensory perception, psycho-kinesis, or the presence of ghosts or spirits."

Derek looked right into the face of Phoenix Worthy and burst out laughing. "Man, I don't believe in that kind of bullshit. What has any of this got to do with me?"

"The day after you – the day after Chance McKenzie died, some really peculiar stuff started happening down at the prosecutor's office. Mysteriously, the case file started moving itself from the file cabinet back to Howard Wallace's desk. Howard called me because he knew I have an interest in such things. I agreed to bring my team down to investigate."

"That still doesn't tell me what that has to do with me."

"Okay, Derek, I'll get right to the point. You are distantly related to Janet McKenzie. We figure that was your motivation for killing Chance McKenzie."

Derek interrupted, "Allegedly killing Chance McKenzie."

"From what I have been told, there is very little doubt that you did it. I'm not here to judge you for that. What we discuss here is between us.

"Would it surprise you to learn that in the course of our investigation we have uncovered evidence that leads us to believe that Chance did not kill his wife and was wrongfully convicted?"

Phoenix looked directly into his eyes. An old English proverb says: The eyes are the windows to the soul. If that truly is the case, then the good doctor was looking into the soul of a man who had just lost everything. His jaw hung slightly open and his face went pale.

"That can't be right; it just can't be. I'm sure he did it. He killed her; I'm sure of it!"

"What makes you so sure? Did he tell you he did?"

"No. As a matter of fact, he denied it right up to the last minute. It drove me freaking nuts. He came to me the first day he was here, telling me that he was innocent and how the District Attorney had railroaded his conviction."

Derek Fontaine lay his head down into his hands. "He kept on and on about how his conviction would be overturned on appeal. All I could think about was Janet and those boys."

"Why didn't you believe him? From everything I've come to understand about Chance McKenzie, he was not a liar."

"His attorney told me."

The response surprised Phoenix. He continued, "What exactly did he tell you?"

"Dennis came out here to see me right after the trial. The dude got me off on a B&E rap a few years back and has been my lawyer every since. He has treated me fair and square all along."

Derek continued, "Anyway, the day before Chance got out here, Dennis dropped in and we were talking about the trial. He told me Chance would probably get away with murder. He was confident the conviction would be overturned and Chance would walk.

"So, I asked him how he was so sure Chance was guilty. He told me Chance told him he did it; told him he was guilty. I had no reason to doubt him."

Phoenix thought about this new information. He stood up and said, "Thanks for seeing me today. Good luck with the investigation."

The convict stood and said, "Tell me something. What new evidence have you found?"

Phoenix stood there a second before deciding it would do no harm to tell him about their findings. "One of the people on my team is a clairvoyant. He talks to ghosts. He has connected with both Janet and Chance in the course of our investigation. Janet helped us find some physical evidence missed in the initial investigation."

Derek thought for a moment and asked, "Has Chance said anything about me?"

"I thought you didn't believe in this stuff?"

"I don't, but if someone is talking about me, I'd like to know it."

Phoenix smiled and turned towards the door. He pushed the button to signal Officer Johnson he was ready to leave. He looked back at Fontaine and added, "Thank you for your time. If you need anything or think of anything, feel free to call me at the number on that card."

The door opened and the officer pointed down the hall. "The Warden said he would meet you back in the other conference room." Turning back to the prisoner he said, "Okay, Fontaine. Let's go."

Phoenix walked down the hall and back into the conference room where he had left his friend. Howard was sitting at the table with Warden Conte discussing the status of another prisoner. He sat down at the table across from them.

"Well?" asked Howard.

"He told me that Dennis Sessions told him Chance McKenzie had confessed to killing Janet. He also told me that Sessions said he thought McKenzie would get off on appeal."

"Why would he do that? He knows it violates attorney-client privilege."

Phoenix looked over at the Warden. "And, you don't record attorney-client meetings here, do you?"

"They used to years ago, but when the State was sued for violating the privacy rights of prisoners and the Secretary of the Department of Corrections had to resign back in the late sixties, everyone stopped it. Some facilities might still on the sly, but we don't do it here."

"So that means it's Sessions' word against his client's," Howard noted.

Phoenix replied, "That is exactly what it means."

# Chapter 10 - The Tracks of My Fears

Echo spent the morning scanning the audio and video recordings while Phoenix and Howard visited the prison. She loved everything about working for Phoenix Rising Investigations. The act of ghost hunting and the late nights in dark hallways and empty rooms were thrilling beyond measure. Applying the technology to the task was her specialty, but it was a very small part of the job. After the on-site work, making the recordings and capturing videos, someone had to go through and dissect the inexplicable. She referred to this part of the job as "ghost work." It was time spent pouring over hours of recordings searching for the smallest detail to indicate the presence of something unearthly.

Many days were devoted to scouring through data files, searching for the slightest abnormality, only to be rewarded with an abundance of normal. It was the part of the job she liked the least, but it was also the part most likely to bring the biggest surprises.

The reward happened on those rare occasions when she found the truly inexplicable. It might be in the form of a faint voice on a late night audio, a translucent mist on the edge of a video frame, or the fine outline of a floating orb present in a digital picture.

The work of a ghost-hunting technician was tedious at best and nobody did it better than Echo Ramirez.

The data from the McKenzie house provided little physical evidence so far. She focused on the audiotape during the few minutes when Geoff was in trance contact with Janet's spirit. Using the audio track isolation software in her laptop, she broke down the recording track by track and strained to listen to the muffled sounds through her headphones. There was definitely a female voice saying, "Help us." She verified the point on the recording and compared it to the timeline of the event.

She thought to herself, This was just a couple of minutes before Geoff came out of the trance. Twenty one seconds later, a male voice could be heard saying, "Janet."

She knew it wasn't Geoff, but she needed to verify on the video that he was not speaking at the time and that the voice did not come from him.

She immediately picked up the handset on her room phone and dialed Geoff's extension. After the third ring, Geoff's sluggish voice came on the line with a barely audible, "Whoever this is, it had better be important."

"Are you still asleep?"

"Not anymore," he said, slight annoyance apparent in his tone.

"Good," she said, ambivalent to any anger Geoff may have been feeling towards the technician. "Hurry up and get down here. I found something in the McKenzie house audio you've got to hear."

She put the phone back on the hook and returned to her computer. She played the audio several times to make sure she was hearing what she thought.

There was an indescribable sadness in the voice, a distant pain clearly indicating the emotions of the person or spirit behind it. Turning the volume up, she played the track one more time, "Help us." Echo felt a cold chill touch her very core. She recalled Geoff describing these words from Janet McKenzie as she lay at his feet dying. Normally, Echo was emotionally detached from their investigations, but the thought of Janet's gruesome murder practically reduced her to tears.

She decided to compare the video from the Thermographic camera to the audio and see if there was any correlating phenomenon. Navigating her way to the folder holding the stored thermal imaging files, she clicked the cursor to start playing the video. She fast-forwarded the recording until the time point matched the beginning of Geoff's trance connection. Other than the red and yellow outline of Geoff sitting in the chair, everything else in the image went from dark blue to black signifying cold areas. This was consistent with the ambient temperature levels in the room during the recordings. Several minutes passed before she noted a small temperature anomaly form on the outer peripheral of the left side of the screen. There, on the edge of the monitor, seen coming in from the kitchen area, was a narrow red translucent image around a pinkish yellow core. The image, standing near five feet tall, moved slowly into the room and stopped at Geoff's feet. She compared the timeline and noted this corresponded with the temperature decrease recorded on the chart. After the first voice was heard on the audio, a second area of red imagery appeared to float in from the right. For a few seconds, both red figures were evident in the video. Immediately after the voice was heard saying, "Janet," the red hovering figure rapidly left the video image in the same direction it entered. A few moments later the thermal image at Geoff's feet dissipated. The only remaining thermal image in the room at that point was a waking Geoff Davies.

Stunned by what she had just seen, Echo leaned back into her chair, took a deep breath and exclaimed excitedly, "Sweet Holy Mother," and crossed herself in the action of her faith.

A sharp knock on the door startled the young technician. Before unlatching the chain, she shouted through the door, "Who is it?"

"Blimey, girl! Who else would it be at this time of the morning?" Geoff replied loudly with some aggravation. The libation of the previous evening was wearing on his morning demeanor. "You called me, remember?"

She was happy to find Geoff standing there with two cups of coffee. "Oh, Geoff, you have got to see this. It's totally unbelievable. It correlates everything you said at the McKenzie house."

Geoff entered her room and she closed the door behind him. He shoved one of the coffee cups at her. "There you go lass, a little Sweet & Low, just like you like it."

She took the coffee, set it on the table and said, "Thanks, now sit down and look at this. You won't believe it!"

"Considering the stuff I've seen the last couple of days, I'll believe just about anything." He sat on the edge of her unmade bed, looked at the monitor and said, "Okay, show me what you found."

She went back over the eerie audio, playing the tape twice for him. She pointed out where everything occurred on the sequential timeline. "See, it directly correlates to where you said Janet spoke to you in your trance."

She said, "Now watch how it directly corresponds to the thermal video. This thing is awesome!" She got all recordings synchronized and starting them playing at the same time.

"Remind me what the different colors mean," Geoff quizzed.

She started the video and said, "In the infrared color spectrum, black is the coldest, then blue, then the reds, and finally the yellows and the whites are the warmest. I'm still learning how to use and interpret the imager, but I believe the colors relate to the kinetic energy of the apparition rather than the physical temperature, because the colors are inconsistent with the ambient temps recorded through the event."

Geoff felt a slight grip of anxiety as he watched the reddish-yellow image move towards him and pour down onto the floor like liquid being spilled. Echo pointed to the monitor. "That must be where Janet McKenzie's spirit laid down in front of you."

"I wonder what that other image was. I didn't feel the presence of anyone else there." Geoff thought to himself, As horrific as watching Janet McKenzie get murdered, I'm not surprised I didn't feel any other presence.

Echo beamed. "Doctor Phee is going to love this stuff. We've never gotten video so good. This thermal camera rocks!"

Geoff sipped on his coffee, reflecting on what he had just seen. Echo sat down beside him. "Are you okay?" She asked.

Geoff got up, walked over to the window and looked outside into the parking lot. Without looking back at his young friend he said, "You know, I've been hearing and seeing ghosts since I was a kid. These spirits quit bothering me years ago. I fancied myself immune to this stuff."

Turning around he continued, "But Friday at the McKenzie house shook me to my socks. I learned not to underestimate what you can run into out here."

Echo walked over and joined him at the window. "Maybe you overestimate your strength. The fact you were touched by what you saw is encouraging. Maybe you are lowering that stiff upper lip of yours." She chuckled softly before adding, "Late today, after Phee gets back, we're going to head over to Howard's office for a night investigation."

Geoff opened the door and stepped out, "Just call me when you are ready."

* * * * *

Later in the afternoon, the PRI team returned to Howard's office and gathered in the conference room readying for the evening's investigation. Howard had a previous engagement and would not be participating.

Phoenix glued his eyes to the monitor, watching the thermal video that Echo had set up for his review. She bit her thumb as her mentor worked the controls, trying to tune in the video display, but unable to get it any better than his technician.

"See, Doc, I told you it was as good as it was going to get. Did you see that? I told you this camera is the bomb!" Echo beamed about the quality of the ghost evidence they had recorded. "What do you think?"

Phoenix always tended to err on the side of caution and relied, "I agree, it is some of the best data we have ever collected. Now, let's hope everything correlates when it's all said and done."

"I went over all the video from the overnight and didn't see anything, but it may be worth doing again," she added.

"That's great work, Echo," he said before turning his attention to Geoff. "How do you feel about connecting with Chance again?"

"I'm okay with it. I spent the afternoon resting and meditating, so I'm hoping to avoid the same kind of ghost possession we had yesterday."

The doctor stood up and said, "If Chance does try to possess you, let him. I plan to be in there with you."

"Whoa," Echo piped in, "I think that is a very bad idea! What if both of you are somehow affected?"

"It'll be okay," he replied. "I'm sure McKenzie is tuned into Geoff's clairvoyance and will just ignore me. What I am hoping, if he does take over, is that I can talk to him through Geoff."

Echo considered the possible scenarios before asking, "What do you want me to do? I mean, if something goes wrong, it should be my decision to pull the plug and get Geoff out of it, right?"

"Absolutely," replied Phoenix.

They walked down the hall to Howard's office. Echo went about the business of connecting the EEG to Geoff. Phoenix setup another video camera pointed to Howard's leather office chair. From this vantage point he would have a good view of Geoff sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looked over at Echo and said, "I want you to mix the video signals, so both camera inputs are on a split screen. It will be easier to correlate to the timeline."

Echo tried to hide her irritation at Phoenix. He had an annoying habit of instructing her how to do things she already knew. She made a mental note to have a talk with him about it when they got back to Savannah. "I'll take care of it."

Phoenix sat in the chair and Echo adjusted the camera so the image was not overwhelmed by the harsh office lighting. She plugged in a small headset hardwired into their intercom system back in the conference room. She had already outfitted Geoff with one. She handed this one to Phoenix and said, "I'll give you a shout when I get back to the control area."

Geoff pulled his headset off and said, "Since Phee is in here, I'm not going to wear this. He can take care of me if need be."

Echo looked over at Phoenix for approval. He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. If you need to tell me anything about the gear, it won't be a distraction to Geoff in his connection state."

She took the headpiece from Geoff and continued, "I'll let you know when everything is ready. I have a couple of things to finish tweaking before we can get started." She left the office and walked back towards the conference room.

"How're you feeling?" Phoenix asked.

"Oh, jolly well, you know." He looked directly at Phoenix and continued, "I'm going to offer myself to the same spirit who took me over last time – bloody well not looking forward to that. Some of me mates say I am daft for doing this. I am beginning to think they are right."

Phoenix grinned. "That means you feel much better, right?"

Geoff replied by rolling his eyes and saying, "Yes, I feel much better, thank you very much.

Two minutes later, Phoenix heard the reassuring resonance of Echo's voice over his headset. "Okay, boss, all set back here. Geoff can go under anytime he is ready."

"We're all set," Phoenix said, his right thumb thrust up towards his British friend. He looked at his watch to get a time reference. "It is almost eight-thirty. We'll see you when you come out."

Geoff smiled and closed his eyes. Only once before, on a previous investigation, had Phoenix been this close to Geoff during one of his trance sessions. In the end, it turned out to be nothing special. Geoff barely felt the spirit in the vicinity and never interacted with it.

Phoenix watched his British protégé begin to slow his breathing and ease into a psychic state. Geoff slowly drifted down until he was in concert with the dimensional plane of the paranormal world.

Phoenix remembered the irate phone call from Robert Mouton, his would-be rival who previously employed Geoff. He was bitching about the young medium leaving New Orleans to join PRI in Savannah. Getting Geoff was a stroke of good fortune. Aggravating Mouton was a bonus.

Several moments passed before he heard the crackle of Echo's voice in the headset. "Phee, I'm noticing an increase in his pulse. There is a corresponding drop in temperature on all sensors of three degrees over the last five minutes. You may want to take a look at the EMF in there."

Geoff still had his eyes closed, but there was definitely a series of rapid eye movements going on behind his closed eyelids. Phoenix picked up the handheld EMF detector and did a quick reading. There was an increase of twenty-five percent of EMF activity since the beginning of the session and he could definitely feel the temperature lowering. In confirmation, he exhaled slowly and watched a slight fog envelope his warm breath.

Echo kept a close eye on the EEG readout. Pulling the boom mic closer to her mouth, she whispered, "Doc, his brain activity is climbing the chart. His pulse right now is one-ten."

Geoff's eyes flew open like a window shade. His hands firmly clutched the arms of the chair. He looked directly at Phoenix and stared like he was trying to look right through him to something on the back wall.

Phoenix heard Echo say, "Okay, that seems better. His pulse has dropped to ninety five and the brain activity is leveled out. There is still quite a bit of flat line oscillation, but it's not climbing like before."

He replied with a thumbs-up at the camera.

"Who are you?" were the words coming from Geoff's mouth. The familiar British voice Phoenix was accustomed to hearing had been replaced with a deep southern drawl.

"My name is Phoenix," he said. "Are you Chance McKenzie?"

"Yes," was the chilling response, "I am not supposed to be here – can you help me?"

"We are working with the Prosecutor's office to try and clear your name. We know you didn't kill your wife."

"Janet is here with me."

Phoenix looked into the camera that displayed his face on Echo's monitor. Without speaking a word, his look begged the question, are you seeing anything?

She checked the video inputs and said, "I don't see anything on the infrared and the rest of the videos are clear."

Phoenix looked back at Geoff and continued, "Does she know who killed her?"

"Please help us."

Again he asked, "Does Janet know who murdered her?"

Geoff tensed up and began to shiver violently. Echo shouted into the mic, "Doc, his pulse shot to one-thirty. The theta frequency of his brainwaves blew right off the chart! We need to pull him back."

"I don't think we'll have to."

Echo heard Geoff's loud moan all the way down the hall to the conference room. She ran back to Howard's office, bringing a bottle of water with her. Phoenix was leaning over Geoff asking, "Are you okay?"

She became extremely concerned when Geoff made no effort to reply to his question. She walked around where she could see Geoff's face. Painted across his face was a look she had never before seen from her British friend. There was a look of horrific fear.

# Chapter 11 - The Public Defender

Echo handed the water bottle to Geoff. "Here, drink this,"

He didn't say a word, not even a thank you, which went totally against his British upbringing. Geoff's normal manners were quite annoying, especially when dealing with Echo. He drank half the bottle before barely acknowledging her presence with a subdued, "Thanks."

Echo and Phoenix shared a concerned look when Geoff looked over and asked, "What happened?"

"You don't remember anything?" Phoenix asked.

"No," he replied and took another sip of water. "Last thing I remember is you giving me the go-ahead to trance out. I seemed to go under a lot quicker than normal."

"Okay," Phoenix looked at Echo. "Get him unhooked and then come on down to the conference room. I want to go over the video."

He put on hand on Geoff's shoulder. "Nice work."

Geoff still carried the look of distant fear in his eyes.

Echo started taking the EEG leads off his head. "Damn, Geoff, it was incredible. You started talking in a different voice, like you were Chance McKenzie."

"Eck," he started, "I've never felt like this before. I'm starting to get a really bad feeling about this investigation. No ghost has ever taken me over that way. It is totally screwed up."

"Well, you're back now." She disconnected the last lead and tugged on his arm. "Let's go see what Phoenix wants to do. I don't know about you, but I am ready to call it a day."

They walked down to the conference room and found Phoenix reviewing the video. "Look at this, Geoff."

Geoff pulled up a chair beside his boss and said, "Let's see what you've got."

Phoenix started the video playback at a few seconds before Geoff started speaking with Chance's voice. The medium shook his head. "I don't remember any of that. Yesterday I felt the presence of Chance way before he moved in, but today, nothing – no warning at all. It's a really spooky feeling."

Phoenix replied, "Yeah, and there is nothing of any note on the Thermo-Imager either. The temperature recorder and the EMF monitor showed extreme changes on their inputs, but no other visual anomaly."

He looked over at Echo. "Let's get all the sensors and other gear pulled out of Howard's office. Just pull the cabling back to here in case we need to go back in for another session. The other employees will be back in the morning, and I don't want any of this stuff in their way."

Geoff stood up. "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to head back to the hotel and lay down. I'm pretty knackered from this investigation." He looked over at Echo, "I hope you don't mind me leaving you with the grunt work."

"Not at all, I'm getting used to it," she chuckled. "You look like you could use a little down time. We'll take care of this."

"That's right," Phoenix said. "We'll finish and catch up with you later."

Geoff took off down the hall. The sound of his heels clicking against the walls and fading into the distance signaled his exit.

"Did any of that seem strange to you?" Phoenix asked. "I've never seen him so disinterested in the video. Maybe with as much as he has been under the last few days, it is just starting to wear on him."

"Maybe."

They went about the business of pulling the gear out of Howard's office. They boxed up as much as they could, tidied up the conference room and headed back to the hotel.

* * * * *

Early the next morning, Phoenix knocked on Geoff's hotel room door. After the third time knocking with no response, he called Geoff's cell phone.

After the first ring, Geoff picked up quickly, "Cheerio, Doc."

"You didn't hear me knocking?"

"I'm over at the diner already."

"I'll be there shortly."

He pushed the button on his phone, ending the conversation. As he turned to walk down the breezeway, Echo came out of her room. "Buenos días, Doc!"

"Good morning," he said as they walked side by side down the stairs to the parking lot below. "Geoff is already at the diner."

She looked up at Phoenix in a slight state of disbelief and said, "Really?"

Phoenix snickered, "That's not like him at all."

"Not like him to get up so early, you mean?" Echo said. "He's usually the last one out for breakfast."

"I think last night's connection with Chance really got to him." He stopped her outside the diner before they walked in for breakfast. "I want you to go through the tapes today and get everything correlated. If we missed the slightest abnormality, I want you to find it."

"Am I looking for something specific?"

"Not really. Just be thorough. At some point, Geoff's safety may depend on it."

They walked through the front door of the diner and found Geoff sitting in a booth along the front window. He was scanning the parking lot and barely reacted when Echo sat down beside him. Phoenix slid in across the table and surveyed his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Phoenix asked. "You seemed a bit detached when you left last night."

Geoff looked back across the table and said, "Bloody hell, Phoenix. This Chance bloke is a bit of a pib. I've never gone down that way after a connection and I've been doing this stuff for a dozen years or so now. I've never experienced anything quite like it."

"The good news is you can take an easy day today," Phoenix responded. "Echo is going to work on correlating the data and building the investigation record. You can help her if needed."

The server came to their table and asked sarcastically, "So, what are the Ghostbusters having for breakfast this morning?"

"Excuse me?" Doctor Worthy asked, looking up at the tall waitress, standing there in her pink-striped uniform holding a steaming pot of coffee.

"No offense meant." She set the pot on the table and leaned forward, and said in a low voice, "It is all over town you and your friends here are looking for ghosts down at the courthouse."

Geoff pointed to the counter. "Look over there, Phee."

Phoenix turned to glance where Geoff had pointed. Everyone in the Dixie Diner was turned to see what happened when the server quizzed the PRI team about their business in Tallahassee. For the residents of Leon County this secret was very big news.

Looking back at the nametag pinned to her chest, Phoenix grinned and replied, "Well, Rachel, it's like this. I don't serve breakfast; you don't chase ghosts, and we'll all get along just fine. Now how about pouring me some coffee, okay?" He pushed his empty cup to the edge of the table.

Rachel Evans replied with a disapproving, "Humph," before serving coffee and taking their breakfast order. She left the ghost hunters to their business. Echo watched her return to the counter and report to the other workers all about the strange group from Georgia.

Geoff looked back to Phoenix and continued, "Out of curiosity, while I am back here helping Echo, as needed, what are you going to be doing?"

"Howard and I are going to see the public defender. Since Chance McKenzie is dead, I am hoping I can get him to release any notes or transcripts of their discussions during the trial."

Echo chimed in, "How is any of that going to help our investigation? We've gotten some especially good data this time, some of the best I have ever seen."

"I'm just looking for insight into Chance's demeanor during the trial. I'm hoping to compare the behavior of a person before death with how the ghost behaves in the spirit world. Why are some ghosts more passive and others more aggressive? Does this have anything to do with the character of the person before death?"

After a short pause he continued with a curious tone, "I'd also like to know how an attorney the caliber of Dennis Sessions fails his client so miserably."

Rachel returned to the table with their food and ended the speculation. Geoff tapped at his food with his fork and watched everybody else eat. Unlike most mornings, he was not thinking about eating. His thoughts were on Janet McKenzie. He hoped to see her again very soon.

* * * * *

Howard was sitting at his desk when Phoenix knocked on the metal doorframe and greeted him with a cheerful, "Good morning."

He looked up from the file and replied, "Well, good morning." He laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "So, how did things go last night?"

The ghost hunter briefed the prosecutor on the full events of the previous evening. Howard sat listening to his friend describe Geoff's reaction to the connection with Chance's spirit. He stopped Phoenix in mid-sentence and asked, "You are certain everything going on around here is being caused by the ghost of Chance McKenzie?"

"Absolutely convinced."

Howard sat in stunned silence for a few moments, thinking over what his friend was telling him. "I didn't want to believe it, but when the file moved around by itself and I felt the cold in here, at some level I already knew. Even seeing those words appearing in the glass was barely enough to convince me. It was some scary shit, I tell you."

Phoenix sat down across from Howard. "The things I have studied in paranormal history lead me to believe, when there has been a terrible injustice leading up to death, it can trigger spirit energy to remain and try to right the wrong."

"Do you think if that wrong is set right, the ghost will go away?"

"Sometimes, but not always," Phoenix said. "Since science hasn't proved or disproved ghosts, a lot of this is educated guesswork anyway. Through many years of the study there are certain accepted behavior patterns we have come to expect. But ghosts will do what ghosts will do. You never know what you might run into from one investigation to the next. My job is to document it, if I can."

Howard sat for a moment considering the possibilities and outcomes. "This is going to be a hard one to explain to someone who hasn't seen what we have seen."

"That is always the problem."

After another moment of quiet study, Howard changed the subject. "Oh, I talked to Sessions first thing this morning. He has to go out to the prison early, but can see us right after lunch – one-thirty this afternoon."

Phoenix looked at his watch. "Tell you what. I'm going to go check e-mails and make a couple of calls. Come get me around eleven. We can go grab lunch and then head over to his office."

"That sounds like a plan. I've got a couple of things I need to finish, that is if your ghost will just leave me alone long enough to do so."

Phoenix laughed and headed off towards the conference room.

* * * * *

"Thanks for lunch," Phoenix muttered. "Now if I can just stay awake long enough to have a coherent conversation with this lawyer."

"Yeah, this place is known for larger than normal portions at a very good price. Usually, this time of day, it's almost impossible get a seat. If I ate here all the time, I'd be big as a blimp."

They made the short walk to the public defenders' offices. Walking along the warm sidewalks they spent the time discussing the status of their fraternity brothers. The days spent with Howard at the University of Georgia continued to be very important memories to the ghost doctor.

"This way," Howard said, as he pulled open a heavy glass door at the entrance to a three-story building on the town square. "Dennis shares offices with other attorneys on the second floor. Let's walk up." They went past the elevators to a grand staircase.

The old architecture of the building said little about its past history. Paintings from the Spanish American war adorned the wall of the lobby. The old wooden stairs creaked as they trudged up the staircase.

They stopped outside a solid wooden door. The sand blown wooden sign read Sessions, Poole and Wade, signifying the group of attorneys occupying this office. Howard opened the door and entered, his friend close behind. Seated behind a small cluttered desk along the opposite wall sat a young brunette wearing a bright orange blouse. Sewn on the pocket was the embroidered image of the University of Florida Gator. Molly Ingram was Donna Ingram's oldest daughter and a recent graduate of the university. She had been working for the Public Defender's Office for nearly six months.

Molly looked up smiling and said, "Hi, Mr. Wallace! What brings you over here?"

"Hi, Molly, I would like you to meet my friend, Phoenix Worthy. We have an appointment to see Dennis."

Phoenix smiled and shook her tiny hand. "It's my pleasure," he replied.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Worthy."

She looked back at Howard and continued, "I almost forgot. Mr. Sessions did tell me you were coming over after lunch." She giggled and picked up the phone. "I'll let him know you are here."

Molly pushed a speed-dial button and just a few seconds later spoke into the headset. "Howard Wallace is here." After a short pause she replied with a quick, "Will do.

"He's expecting you. Ya'll go on back."

"Thanks," Howard smiled. "We probably won't be very long." They turned and walked down the hall.

"Nice to meet you." Phoenix smiled and followed behind his friend.

Dennis Sessions was seated behind a large mahogany desk. He stood as they entered his office.

"Howard," the defender said, stretching out his hand in obligatory greeting. "How are you doing?"

"I'll be doing much better when I get this Chance McKenzie thing behind me," Howard replied, taking the outstretched hand.

He continued making the introduction. "This is Phoenix Worthy. He is the principle investigator with Phoenix Rising Investigations out of Savannah."

Phoenix reached out his hand and shook the strong hand of the public defender. "Nice to meet you," he said. Dennis stood slightly taller than the investigator.

"I've heard a little about this stuff going on over at the courthouse. Moving files, cold rooms, ghosts and spirits and such," he snickered. "Frankly, I don't put a lot of stock into ghost stories."

Phoenix released his hand. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Mind if we sit down?"

"Not at all," he said. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, sodas?

"No, thanks."

"No, but thank you," Phoenix added.

"So, what can I do to help this so-called ghost hunt?"

Phoenix immediately took over the conversation before Howard had a chance to speak. "We are looking into the killing of Chance McKenzie and some strange things surrounding his death. Since McKenzie is dead and you are no longer bound by client-attorney privilege, I was hoping you might be able to let us take a look at your McKenzie case file."

"You do know that I represent Derek Fontaine, so there is not really anything I can say. Just what is it you are hoping to find?"

"I'm not looking for anything in particular. I want to correlate the kinds of things Chance told you in your pre-trial discussions to other facts of the case."

"What case is that? Chance's murder in prison or are you pursuing something related to his wife's killing?" Dennis probed cautiously.

"Mostly, I'm just looking to see what kind of person Chance McKenzie was. I am drawing up a profile of the man for my investigation."

Phoenix continued, "We have uncovered evidence that could take the investigation towards a conclusion McKenzie did not kill his wife."

"Is that what you really think?"

"It is a little early to say for sure, but that is certainly a possibility."

The defender stared at Phoenix before continuing, "Since McKenzie is dead, I suppose there is no problem letting you see the file. I had high hopes we would win on appeal, but I guess that is not going to happen now."

He picked up the phone and pressed a button. "Molly, how about getting the McKenzie case files and making a quick copy of the client interviews section for Howard, would you please?"

After he hung up, he turned back to Phoenix and said, "You were a pretty decent shortstop at UGA from what I read."

Phoenix was startled that the attorney had researched his background and knew this kind of detail. He replied in kind, "And you had a pretty successful couple of years playing football at Indiana."

The attorney responded, "I enjoy the game. But, like you, I wasn't good enough to go pro, so I ended up in law. And you hunt ghosts. Life does have a sense of humor, does it not?"

"Sometimes." Phoenix studied the attorney and thought his demeanor did not indicate the personality of a lazy person or someone unable to hold his own in a courtroom battle. He was nothing like Howard described.

The young receptionist entered the office and handed a small stack of documents stapled together to her boss who just smiled and said, "Thanks, Mol."

Dennis watched her walk from his office and down the hall. "She does have a nice ass; doesn't she?"

Howard raised his hand and chimed in quickly, "Come on, Dennis, you know how Donna is. That's way out of line!"

"You are right," Sessions chuckled, raising his hand like a stop sign. "But sometimes I can't help myself."

He ignored Phoenix and spoke directly to the prosecutor. "Speaking of out of line, Howard, I need to tell you how much it disturbs me to think you would take this... this so-called investigator, down to Central to see my client without calling me. It borders on misconduct and you can bet that I will be bringing it up to the D.A. when she gets back in town."

He laid the copies face down on his desk and rested his hands on top. "And for that, it is going to cost you." He smiled in coy defiance. "If you really want to see these files, you come back with a court order and I'll hand them right over. Until then, screw you!"

Howard jumped to his feet. "Damn it, Dennis!"

Phoenix reached over and grabbed Howard's arm. He stood and said, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sessions. We'll be getting back to you as soon as we can."

He tugged on his friend's arm and said, "Come on Howard, let's go."

Howard shoved a finger into the Session's face. "This isn't over."

"Nice seeing you fellows."

Phoenix looked back and sternly replied, "Likewise."

Dennis was still smiling as they left his office and walked back into the small reception foyer. Molly Ingram looked up from her desk and, seeing them empty-handed asked, "Didn't he give you those papers?"

"No, he didn't," Howard softly replied. "Is he an asshole all the time or just to prosecuting attorneys?

She giggled. "Nah, he spreads it all around – attorneys, clients, receptionists. If the court didn't assign his cases, he probably wouldn't have any."

"We will come back later with a court order for that file," Howard said.

She looked back down the hall, checking to see if her boss was watching, and pushed a manila envelope over to Howard. "I made an extra copy, just in case. Keep it to yourself, okay?"

Howard winked. Taking the envelope, he said, "Thanks, Molly. You did good!"

Phoenix and Howard were both smiling like schoolboys in the girls' locker room as they walked down the steep staircase.

Back on the street Phoenix stopped his friend and said. "I'm going to ride out to the hotel and check on Geoff. I'll meet you back in your office in an hour or so."

"That works for me. See you then."

Phoenix watched his friend continue down the sidewalk as he climbed into his Toyota. He was pulling onto the street when his cell phone rang, and Echo's number displayed on the ID.

"Hey, Eck, what's up?"

"Is Geoff with you?"

"No, I haven't seen him."

"His truck is gone. It is not like him to take off without telling me."

Phoenix thought for a minute. "Sit tight and I'll be there to pick you up. I think I know where he might be."

# Chapter 12 - A Chance Haunting

When he turned the corner, Phoenix saw Echo pacing the parking lot in front of the hotel. He knew immediately she was extremely anxious. She only chewed her nails when she was very nervous. The tires screeched as he brought the truck to a quick stop. Echo immediately opened the door and made a step up into the passenger seat. The speed of his exit tossed her against the back of the seat. She was still trying to get her seatbelt buckled when he turned the Land Cruiser out onto the highway.

"Damn, Doc, do you mind if I get strapped in before you blast off?" She finally got the harness to latch and said, "This belt may be the only thing standing between me and the hereafter."

"Sorry. I'm just a little concerned about Geoff."

"I figured that out. So, let me guess... we're headed to the McKenzie house, right?"

"That's exactly where we are headed. Something has been bothering me about Geoff. If I'm right, I'm sure he will be there."

"What are you thinking?"

"There's a possibility Chance's spirit has completely possessed Geoff in some fashion. Ghost possession is pretty rare, but not unheard of. I've never seen it."

"That's totally wicked."

"I don't know enough about it to know how safe Geoff is. Like he said, McKenzie seemed very angry."

"You think he will be okay?"

"I wish I knew."

Phoenix looked over at his assistant. "What gear did you bring?"

"Most of the recording gear is in his truck. The only thing I have with me is a digital voice recorder and my digital camera. If we see his truck, maybe we can get what else we need, assuming he hasn't locked it."

"I was hoping to have the thermal imager. We'll make do."

The late afternoon sun blazed against the windshield and Phoenix pulled the visor down to shield his eyes from the bright glare. "How are you coming with the data?"

"Oh, Doc, we got some great recordings from the house." She pulled the mini recorder from her pocket. Fiddling with the fast forward control she found the spot she was looking for. "Listen to this."

She turned up the volume and pushed the play button. For a few seconds, all Phoenix heard was soft muffled breathing. "Is that Geoff?"

"Yes, but that is not what I am talking about. It's coming up right here."

The muffled audio continued. A few seconds later he clearly heard the words, "Help us!" The soft voice was female. Echo clicked off the player.

"Did you hear it?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"I remember Geoff talking about this when he came out of his trance. He said Janet was at his feet and this was the only thing she said. I didn't hear it. I was busy watching his vitals."

Echo added, "Oh, and did I mention I was really scared?"

"No, you left that little tidbit out." He paused briefly. "You are in good company. This is different than anything we have ever seen."

She turned and watched the traffic go by and nervously bit the edge of her thumb before replying, "Yes, it is."

Phoenix turned the corner leading down to the McKenzie house. "There's Geoff's truck!" Echo excitedly shouted.

"I see it. When I get stopped, see if his truck is locked. If you can get in, get the thermal camera and an EMF meter."

He pulled his Toyota right in behind Geoff's truck. Echo jumped out and made a full circle around the vehicle, trying each door and the back. "It's all locked up."

"No matter, let's get on in there. Just turn on the recorder."

She put the microphone to her lips, voiced the time/date stamp, and followed Phoenix down the sidewalk. "Me and Phoenix are getting ready to enter the McKenzie house. Geoff should be inside. His truck is parked in the driveway."

Phoenix reached out to open the front door. Two things were immediately apparent as they entered the house. The house was somewhat chilly and the light was fairly dim. The late afternoon sun cast a eerie shadows into the front room.

Geoff was sitting in a chair in the same spot where he first connected with Janet McKenzie. He was shivering from the low temperature. Tears streamed down the side of his face. Echo took a couple of pictures and scanned around the room for anyone or anything else.

"Everything else looks the same as the other day, Doc."

Phoenix gave the medium's arm a slight shake. "Geoff!"

A fog of cold breath enveloped Geoff's face and his teeth chattered as if he had been sleeping on an iceberg. In stark contrast, beads of sweat dropped off his forehead and mingled with the tears on his cheek.

"Geoff! Are you with us?" Phoenix shook him even harder.

The young clairvoyant leaned his head back slowly and tried to focus his eyes on his mentor. After a minute or so, he reached out and grabbed his arm. "Oh, Phee, you should've seen it. She was here. My God, she is so beautiful." Geoff wiped the sweat from his soaked brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He gave the room a quick sweep and asked, "How did I get here?"

Echo handed the recorder to her boss. "Geoff, give me your keys. I need to get a couple of things out of your truck. I'll bring back some water, too."

Geoff smiled, dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "Here you go, lass, now be quick about it. I am about to thirst to death here."

Phoenix nodded. "Bring back an EMF and temperature meter, too."

"Right."

He turned his attention back to Geoff. "What can you tell me about what happened here?"

"Not a lot. I remember sitting here talking to Janet for a little while. Before that, the last thing I remember was napping back at the hotel. I don't know how I got here."

"What do you remember about your conversation?"

"We talked about the boys and how much we miss them."

"We?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said 'we', like it is you and Janet missing the boys."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did. I have it on tape if you want to hear it."

Geoff pursed his lips and thought. "No, I believe you. I think Chance has become a big influence. I constantly feel his presence."

Echo came back carrying a bottle of water and a couple of instruments. She handed the bottle to Geoff and said, "You two go ahead. I am going to poke around the room a bit." She looked at the temperature gauge and added, "No wonder I am so cold. It's forty-nine degrees in here. I wish I had brought a jacket."

Phoenix chimed in, "Yeah, I'm a little chilly too."

"I am freezing," Geoff added. "Can we go back to the hotel now?"

"Shortly," he said. "We just need to document everything while it's still fresh.

"Geoff, I need you to think. What exactly did Janet say to you while you were talking? Try to remember."

He sat there a few minutes searching his memory. "It was nice sitting here with her. We talked about the kids mostly. She wanted to know if you were going to be able to help her."

"Did she tell you who killed her?"

"I asked, but she said she couldn't. She says she doesn't remember." Geoff paused. "She said that she didn't know Chance was dead until he showed up here last week."

"Where is Chance now?

"He is with me."

Phoenix thought about it for a few seconds. "Geoff, I don't have a frame of reference for this. It's outside my experience. Honestly, I cannot say how safe it is for you to maintain this close of a connection with McKenzie."

Geoff smiled. "It's okay, Doc. He is not going to hurt me. He is just interested in what we are doing. He wants to know who killed his wife."

Echo spoke from across the room. "I have to tell you, Geoff, this is some really spooky shit and it scares the hell out of me. Don't you think you should cast him out somehow?"

"You have to remember; I sort of invited him in when we connected the first time."

"Okay, here is what I want to do." Phoenix suggested, "Let's get back to the hotel. I want Echo to run an EEG on you and see how you chart out. If the results run anywhere near dangerous levels, I want to figure out how we go about casting off McKenzie. I know a couple of people with ghost possession experience I can call and get some guidance."

Echo rolled her eyes. "I bet I know exactly who tops that list."

Ignoring his Latina friend, Geoff looked at Phoenix and replied, "That sounds good to me, Phee. I feel like I've been playing rugby with the Russian army all day."

"Echo, I want you to drive – no driving allowed for this guy until he breaks up with Chance."

As they were walking out the door, Echo whispered to Phoenix and rattled the key chain in her hand, "I'll keep these with me."

* * * * *

Phoenix listened to the cell phone ringing in his earpiece. A familiar voice answered, "Howard Wallace."

"It's Phoenix. We are not going to get back over there today." He briefly explained to Howard about Geoff's experience at the McKenzie house.

"That sure sounds like some pretty scary stuff. Anything you need me to do?"

"No, not much you can do. We'll be over there in the morning around nine."

"Sounds good to me. See you then."

Phoenix ended the call and glanced over at his technician. "How is it looking?"

She stood there monitoring the charts on the EEG machine. "It looks incredibly normal, Doc. I've seen it worse than this when we were base-lining other assignments."

"I told you I was fine. Besides, I'm pretty sure Chance is not even in me right now. I think he is around us somewhere. I feel his presence." Geoff waved his hand around the room signaling where the wayward spirit might be.

Echo chimed in, "If that is the case, we should set up instrumentation in here for an overnight download. It deserves a full work up: thermal imaging, audio, and EMF. That's no less than we would do anywhere else we thought there was a presence."

Phoenix smiled at the maturity of his technician. "You are absolutely right. At least let it monitor the room overnight. I'll help you set up."

"What about me?" Geoff asked.

"You're going to lie there and like it while the EEG continues to monitor," she said. "It won't take us long to setup."

"I'm going to have some food brought up," Phoenix said. "I think it's going to be a long night."

The Phoenix Rising team went about the business of data collection. As always, the clock crawled and the food got cold. Nothing out of the ordinary was evident on any of the various recording devices.

Geoff fell asleep early in the evening leaving the technician to monitor the equipment and the boss man to work on e-mails. Phoenix sat by the window with his laptop.

Echo looked over at Phoenix and said, "If you don't mind, I'm going to try to get a bit of a nap. It's pretty quiet around here."

"No, you go ahead."

She started to lie on the other bed when Phoenix suggested, "Why don't you go on to your room? I've got this."

A slight smile evidenced her gratitude. "Thanks, Doc. I could really use a shower, too. Call me if anything happens."

"Of course."

She closed the door behind her, leaving the other ghost hunters to stand guard over her equipment.

Phoenix turned back to his computer and studied the name on the send line of the e-mail he had just written. Annie Kai had been his best friend and occasional lover at the University of Arizona. She was a graduate student finalizing her PhD in Native American studies. Their mutual interest in the paranormal drew them closer.

Her thesis had been a complete study on spirit possession in Native American heritage. She presented some very ground-breaking concepts, not fully embraced by mainstream academia. It had been three years since he had last seen her at the launch of her book, Native Ghost Spirits, in San Diego. The book was considered the best available resource for the practical study of ghost possession. The fieldwork and subsequent cases, documented with flawless investigative verification, were the best he had ever read. Perhaps he was a little biased. The memory of Annie Kai brought a smile to his face.

Phoenix read over the e-mail one more time before sending.

Dear Annie,

It has been way too long since we talked. The ghost hunting business keeps us both busy. I have been thinking about you a lot lately. I promise to get out there for a visit very soon.

We are in the middle of an investigation where I could really use your insight. I am in Tallahassee with an old college friend. We have documented some very strong evidence of two distinct spirits. Geoff appears to be under the influence of one of these. He seems okay now, but as you know, I have practically no experience with ghost possession and could certainly use your input. Please give me a call when you get this message and I will explain everything

Look forward to seeing you again,

Phoenix

He studied the last line with the same thought he had every time he wrote to her – Should I end with, Love, Phoenix?

He looked back over at Geoff, still in a deep sleep, and hit the key to send the e-mail along its way. Phoenix stood and made a quick check of the instruments. They were all baseline normal, as if they had found the one place on the planet farthest from all paranormal activity. The absence of irregularity was abundant.

He looked at his watch and thought; I could use a little shut eye myself. He lay back on the other bed for a few moments rest. Sleep was about to move in when his cell phone rang.

Phoenix focused on the name glimmering on the tiny screen – Annie Kai. He smiled and felt a familiar warmth growing in his heart. He swallowed hard once before answering the call.

"Hi, Annie!"

"Phoenix! It was so good to get your e-mail. I have been wondering how you were doing. It has been too long since we talked last. Have you been avoiding me?"

"Yes, it has... and, no, I haven't." Whenever he spoke with Annie, his vocabulary became remedial, at best. "I have been thinking I should call you for weeks."

"You should have." Annie held more than a casual interest in Phoenix as well, but she continued to hold back. "So, what is going on down there?"

He spelled out the events of the last few days in Tallahassee. Annie listened closely. "After we found Geoff at the McKenzie home, the only thing that made any sense to me was that somehow Chance's ghost had somehow possessed him and completely taken him over. I figured I would run it past you and see what you thought."

He heard her say in a slightly distant voice, "Thank you, Christy."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, Phee... I was talking to my student assistant. I was thanking her for taking care of some travel arrangements for me."

"Oh? Where are you off to this time?"

"Tallahassee. I'm catching an early flight and will be there at 2:15 in the afternoon. I'd like you to pick me up, please."

Annie had the ability to unnerve the ghost hunter like no other. "You don't need to do that. That's a very big expense, which I would gladly reimburse, but I believe you can advise by phone as needed." He was trying to hide the excitement of possibly seeing her the next day.

"This spirit moving in and out of your clairvoyant with such ease is something I have heard of but never seen firsthand. I'd kick myself if I didn't take advantage of the opportunity.

"Don't worry about the expenses. The book is doing quite well and I am close to releasing my next one. Consider it my contribution to Phoenix Rising Investigations."

Phoenix could feel the width of his smile. He replied, "Okay, Annie, you win. Send me your itinerary and I'll be there to pick you up personally. I can't wait to see you."

"Same here. See you tomorrow."

Phoenix ended the call and instantly noticed how much better he felt than just a few minutes earlier. He thought back to his time in Arizona when they first met. Annie was an extremely attractive student of Native American studies. Although her ancestry was half white, she fully embraced the Navajo blood running through her veins and the culture of her ancestors. Her grandmother was a full-blood member of the White Mountain Navajo tribe.

Not long after they met, Annie took him to see the reservation where her ancestors had lived many years before. The town where she grew up was not far from Fort Apache and a long way from civilization. Her parents moved to Phoenix when she was a child to ensure she would have opportunities and resources not available on the reservation.

Phoenix heard Geoff stirring on the bed behind him. "Who was on the phone?" he asked.

"Annie Kai," he replied.

"Yeah?" The young Brit continued, "And what does Annie think about all this?"

"She'll be here tomorrow."

Geoff smiled. "Oh, that is lovely. I guess she will want to run her own experiments on me when she gets here."

"I have no doubt, but I'll try to keep her at bay."

"Have you told Echo yet?"

Not long after Echo joined PRI, Phoenix sent her to Tucson for a seminar on Spirit Communication that Annie and her southwest paranormal crowd were sponsoring. He thought it would be a good experience, but in hindsight it was probably a little soon to expose his opinionated technician to Annie Kai and the Arizona ghost-hunting crowd. For reasons he had not been made aware of, Annie and Echo had some kind of falling out during the program. Since then, Echo would get agitated and tense up at the very mention of Annie Kai. It only got worse as Echo entrenched deeper into the Phoenix Rising team. She had become very protective and possessive of Phoenix.

"I'll tell her at breakfast," he said. "Look, Geoff, I'm going to lie down for a little while and get some sleep. It doesn't look like your friend is going to show up tonight."

Geoff laid his head back down on the pillow and said, "He is here."

# Chapter 13 - Murder in Tallahassee

Phoenix woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Without looking at the caller ID, he pushed the send button to connect the call. "Phoenix Rising."

"Hi, Phoenix, it's Howard."

"Good morning." Phoenix sleepily glanced at the clock. The big red numbers indicated it was barely six-thirty in the morning. He continued, "Kind of early, isn't it? What's wrong?"

"Sheriff Clayton called me a couple of hours ago. They found Ann Waverly dead in her office this morning. She didn't come home last night and her daughter called Doug."

"That's the real estate lady, isn't it?"

"Yes. Anyway, Clayton sent deputies over there just after midnight. They found the back door unlocked and she was face down in blood in the middle of the floor." The prosecutor paused. "I must tell you, Phee. When I got over here and looked, the scene haunted me. It looked almost exactly like the McKenzie murder – a deep wound to the throat and several knife punctures in the stomach."

"You think the investigators would mind if we came over and poked around?" asked Phoenix.

Howard considered it briefly and replied, "Probably not a good idea. I've already caught flack about having you guys in the offices. The D.A. called me last night from Vegas. Somebody called her complaining. You have got to have this thing wrapped up by the time she gets back."

Howard paused and reconsidered. "I'll tell you what, Phee. After they remove the body and clear the scene, we'll come back over then."

"Okay, keep me posted. I'm going to bring the team to your office this morning to work in the conference room, finish going through all of the video and audio recordings. I want to start putting together the findings."

"Works for me. I'll meet you guys over there later this morning. I'm not going to hang around here much longer."

"Couple of other things," Phoenix asked. "Who found the body?"

"The patrol officer was Deputy J.C. Brown. He got the call at 12:28 this morning and went straight to her office. He found the back door open, went inside, and saw Ann lying on the floor. The M.E.'s preliminary on time of death is 8:30 last night."

"Any suspects?"

"Not so far."

Phoenix scribbled a couple of notes. "I have to pick someone up at the airport this afternoon, so if you don't catch me before two, I'll be out until late afternoon."

"Who's coming in?"

"An old friend from Arizona."

"Ah, the Indian professor you have been going on about."

Phoenix glanced at Geoff. He sat a bit straighter and quickly answered, "Yes, that's correct. I will see you this afternoon."

Howard chuckled and said, "I'm looking forward to meeting her. Talk to you later."

Phoenix ended the call and stared into space.

"What was all that about?" asked Geoff with a quizzical look on his face.

"You remember the lady you picked up the key from?"

"Ann Waverly? What's happened?"

"She was found murdered in her office. The attack seems to mimic the McKenzie murder."

Geoff lowered his face into his palms and thought about it for a bit. Shortly he blurted, "Hey, wait a second. I don't sense McKenzie anymore."

Phoenix analyzed the statement and said, "It means one of two things – either he has moved on or moved deep into you. You didn't know he was there before you went over to the McKenzie house, so I think that is probably more likely."

"It could be something else. Since we got so close, maybe he is learning to shield himself from me. If that is the case, this hunt just turned into a real bugger."

The cell phone rang again and he looked to see Echo's name on the display. "Good morning," he said, trying not to sound too awake.

"I just wanted to see if you guys were up and, if not, wake you. What time are we meeting for breakfast? I was hoping to get in a run this morning, if we had the time."

"Go for it. Let's meet in the diner around eight."

"Thanks, Doc, eight it is." She hung up quickly.

He shoved the cell phone back in his pocket. "I'll be back in a bit. I'm going to go shower and change clothes, and then we can walk down to breakfast together."

* * * * *

It seemed every head in the diner was turning on the same swivel when the ghost hunting team walked through the door. With few exceptions, every eye in the place followed them as they worked their way over to the window booth where Echo sat waiting for their arrival.

Rachel was quickly there with a pot of coffee.

"How are the ghost busters this morning?"

"We're doing bloody fantastic." Geoff laughed.

She leaned over towards the doctor and said, "I heard about Ann Waverly. Are you going to be chasing her ghost too?"

"No, but when you turn into a ghost we will definitely come find you." Phoenix looked the young server square in the eyes.

She stood back up laughing and started pouring coffee for the two men. "I'll get your juice shortly, sweetie."

She took their orders and left to give a full report to the counter girl. The rest of the morning diners by this time had grown weary of watching the ghost team. The good patrons were back to their food and fellowship.

"So, what is on our agenda today, Doc?" Echo asked.

"We're going back over to Howard's office to work in the conference room. I want you to finish working on the correlation and documentation."

"You know this is the work part of hunting I can't stand," Echo said. "We got some pretty good data over at the McKenzie house. Don't you think it's worth a fulltime set up over there for a day or so to see if we can get more?"

"We might do it later on this week, but right now a couple of other things have come up."

Echo looked over at Phoenix. "Oh? Like what?"

"Ann Waverly, the realtor, was murdered last night."

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes. And Howard is going to get us into the crime scene later on today."

Geoff started chuckling across his coffee cup.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, looking over at her British friend.

"Nothing, my dear."

Phoenix gave Geoff a stern look. "One more thing. I talked to Annie Kai about this ghost possession thing last night."

Echo's face turned sour as a fresh lime as she thought back to her experience with the lovely Miss Annie Kai. "And what did the Professor have to say about it? Any ideas?"

"You can ask her yourself. I'm picking her up at the airport this afternoon. She's on her way."

Echo turned to look out the window into the parking lot and readied her thoughts. She looked back at the Phoenix. "Doc, I know she means well, but do you really think we need her down here on this? It's already crowded with the three of us and your friend Howard."

"Eck, I know you and Annie had some kind of situation when you were out there and I hope you two can find time to work it out when she gets here. You also know I think a lot of her and her experience in the field. Considering what happened with Geoff, we really do need her. Now, I suggested she give us her guidance by phone, but she'd already made plans to fly over here. Frankly, I am glad she's coming."

Geoff chimed in, "Don't worry about it, love. I'll protect you from Ms. Kai." He looked over at Phoenix and added. "That leaves you the job of protecting Ms. Kai from Echo."

"Who knows," Phoenix continued with a serious look on his face, "maybe the two of you can mend fences and get past whatever happened."

"I doubt it."

The conversation came to an abrupt end when Rachel placed breakfast in front of the investigators.

She lifted the pot and asked, "More coffee?"

* * * * *

It was almost nine-thirty when Phoenix and team arrived back at the office building. Echo gathered the hard drives containing the files and followed Geoff and Phoenix up the steps. Geoff paused briefly in front of Howard's office hoping to feel the security of a familiar ghostly presence. Finding none, he moved on to the conference room.

The soft buzz of constant conversation filled the open expanse of the clerks' area. Murder has that affect, especially when the victim is a respected member of the community. And especially when the killer still unknown.

As the team was putting the equipment together in the conference room, Howard arrived wearing a somber look, which revealed the range of emotion at hand. A slightly younger, well-dressed woman followed behind him. Phoenix looked up from his laptop and stood.

"Good morning, Phoenix. I'd like you to meet Donna Ingram."

She offered her hand. "It is nice finally to meet you. Howard has been telling me all about your little group here."

He gave her hand a gentlemanly shake and replied, "I'm going to assume it has all been good. I got to meet your daughter, Molly, yesterday. Nice girl."

"Yeah, she came home last night talking about meeting the ghost hunter everyone around town has been buzzing about. She said, 'He seemed very nice.'"

Phoenix made brief introductions to the rest of the team before turning his attention back to Howard. "So, what is the latest on the Waverly murder?"

"The body has been moved out and Robbie Weaver is still over there working the crime scene. It's a little early yet for a conclusion."

Howard looked over at Echo and added, "Robbie asked about you this morning. I was thinking it might be an opportunity for you to go see him and get a look at the crime scene."

A big grin popped up on the Latina technician's face. "I would like that a lot. How about it, Doc? What do you think?"

"That would work out very nicely. Take Geoff with you. I have to go to the airport anyway." Phoenix gave a quick glance at his watch. "I will meet you back here later this afternoon."

Echo replied, "I would like to finish going through this last video before we head over there, okay?"

"Take your time, Eck. It sounds like Robbie will be there for a while. Just don't take too long," Howard finished.

She sat back down at her terminal. "This won't take but a few minutes."

Phoenix turned his attention back to the two prosecutors. "How are you holding up?" he asked his friend.

"Phee, I can't tell you how disturbing this is. I've known Ann for years. We saw each other at Toastmaster meetings all the time." His voice cracked slightly. "What bothers me the most is how wrong we were when we rushed McKenzie to trial. It has cost two lives at this point."

Donna added, "Howard has told me about the things your team has uncovered. Frankly, I find most of it a tough pill to swallow, but I am still trying to be open-minded. The missed forensics at the McKenzie house had nothing to do with your ghosts."

Phoenix quizzed Donna cautiously, "Considering what we found there, do you have any ideas who might have murdered Janet McKenzie?"

Donna frowned and said, "Well, if it wasn't her husband, in the absence of some physical evidence of who else might have been in their house that morning, I'd be afraid to offer a guess."

Howard added a chilling thought, "Let's hope we can come up with a solid suspect before someone else dies."

Phoenix checked his watch one more time. "I need to take care of a couple more e-mails and then I am headed to the airport. Can we finish this later?"

"Sure thing, Phee. I'm going to hound the crime lab for their report."

Donna smiled, shook his hand again, and said, "It was nice meeting you."

After they had left the conference room, Echo looked up with a huge grin and said, "Hey Doc, she totally had the hots for you!"

"You don't know what you are talking about."

Geoff added his confirmation. "I'm afraid so, old chap. She definitely had an eager eye on your knickers."

"No, I think she's married, isn't she? I mean, we met her daughter just yesterday."

Echo giggled. "If she is, she needs to reel her tongue back in, because you could see her feminine radar turn on the minute she laid eyes on you."

Phoenix thought to himself, Oh, hell. This is all I need with Annie coming in.

"Well, no matter, that is something I don't need to be thinking about right now."

Geoff chuckled. "No, not with Annie Kai coming to town."

Phoenix shot his eyes at Geoff as if to say, I'll get you for that one!

"Don't you have work to do? Shouldn't you two be getting over to the Waverly place?"

"Okay, Doc, but I tell you she wants you!" Echo said before sitting back down at her computer. "I'm almost done."

Phoenix checked his watch again. His pulse quickened thinking about the arrival of his beautiful friend from Arizona.

He walked to the door and shouted back, "I'll catch up with you guys later today."

Geoff watched as Phoenix turned down the hall. He looked over at Echo and exclaimed, "You do know he won't be worth a damn the rest of the day, maybe not the rest of the week."

Echo frowned. "Whatever!"

* * * * *

Echo and Geoff said very little on the way over to the small offices of Star Realty. Geoff slept and Echo thought back to her first encounter with Annie Kai.

She remembered meeting her at Tucson International coming out of baggage claim. She was standing there holding up a big white sign with black letters that read: ECHO RAMIREZ

"Are you Professor Kai?" she asked.

"Yes," she said, "but you can call me Annie. Oh, Echo, I am happy to finally meet you. Phoenix has told me so much about you."

"Besides that boat, and ghost hunting, you are about the only thing he talks about." Echo's smile betrayed her enthusiasm.

"Come on, let's get you settled in."

They chatted about Phoenix, the ghosts he was chasing, and the conference at the Westin La Paloma Resort nestled in the foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains on the northeast side of Tucson. A dozen newcomers to the field of Paranormal Investigation would gather and sit through a series of lectures and seminars about ghost communication and investigative procedures.

One look at the resort told Echo how deeply her boss had dug into his wallet to fund her trip to the Southwest. She was ready to learn and build her value to Phoenix and PRI as a whole.

The week was going well for Echo, that is, until Wednesday when Chayton Red Hawk, a young Apache from New Mexico, joined the sessions. Echo took a liking to him immediately. Her first mistake was leaving with the young Indian after class without telling Annie she was going. That evening turned into one mistake after another.

When she failed to show up for training the next day, Annie was consumed with fear for her safety and went to her hotel room. She was shocked when Chayton Red Hawk answered the door and Echo lay in bed passed out from the previous evening's outing.

Annie pushed past the young Indian asking, "What have you done, Chay?"

He laughed and said, "Exactly what she wanted to do."

She picked up his shirt from the side of Echo's bed, threw it at him, and said, "Get out!"

He buttoned his shirt and laughed as he was walking out. "The Chicana likes the Redman."

The door closed and she turned her attention back to Echo. She gathered a damp rag from the bathroom and tried waking her with a shake.

Echo struggled to open her eyes. She saw Annie sitting there and sat up. "What time is it and what are you doing in my room?"

"It is almost eleven," she replied. "You didn't come to class this morning and I was concerned."

"Where's Chayton?"

"I made him leave."

"Where do you get off getting in my business?" Echo remembered saying before the conversation went downhill and the rest of the Tucson trip turned into a full-blown Latina snit.

Echo shook her head and fought the memory. She thought to herself, Annie was probably just trying to help, but still she needed to keep her nose out of my business. I can take care of myself.

Geoff shouted, "RED LIGHT!"

Echo saw the traffic signal just in time and slammed on the brakes, bringing Geoff's Explorer to a screeching halt seconds before becoming the hood ornament on a Peterbilt. Geoff and the equipment in the back seat slammed towards the front of the truck. Echo winced at the sound of the plastic boxes crashing together in the rear compartment.

"Where the hell were you?" Geoff screamed.

"Sorry," she replied. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You have Annie Kai on your mind and it damn near killed both of us. Do us all a favor and talk it out with her, please."

The light turned green and Echo pulled away, mulling Geoff's request. In time, she thought. I need to give it time.

Ten minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of Star Realty. Robbie Weaver was standing by the back of his crime scene van; a deputy stood by the tape marking the entrance to the building.

Robbie waved as Echo and Geoff pulled in beside the van. "Hi, Robbie!" Echo shouted as they stepped onto the pavement. "Are you about done?"

"Yeah, we're pretty much done processing the scene. Would you like to go in?"

Echo smiled. "That would be awesome." She wrapped her arm around his and together they headed towards the entrance.

Geoff shook his head and followed behind.

They stood in the office where Ann Waverly had been murdered just a few hours earlier. It was an odd, unsettling sensation standing in a place recently the site of such a violent act.

"Did you found anything out of the ordinary?" she asked.

"Not really. The scene was devoid of physical evidence. No prints, no strange fibers, no weapon, nothing. It's like the killer is a ghost." Smiling at Echo he added, "No pun intended."

Echo looked over at Geoff, who was standing with his eyes closed and palms downward. "Geoff, what do you think?"

In a southern voice he replied, "Ann is free to join her husband now. She is at least happy about that."

# Chapter 14 - Annie Kai

Phoenix listened to the steady announcements over the speaker system of the Tallahassee Airport. The last broadcast confirmed the arrival of Annie's flight; his pulse quickened in anticipation of seeing his former lover. His palms began to sweat and he darted into a men's room to wash his face and hands. Phoenix took an extra moment to inspect himself in the mirror. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked back into the terminal.

He strolled down to the area outside of the security gates. A mass of passengers came down the ramp from the arriving plane. A group of Boy Scouts in uniform rushed past him towards the baggage claim area. His heart seemed to skip a beat when he saw her face in the distance. She waved and hurried towards the walkway where he stood. Her long black hair was pulled back into a thick braid. As always, she was fashion-model gorgeous with her stylish black pencil skirt and white button-up blouse under a leather coat. Her turquoise jewelry and beaded necklace completed the understated ensemble. There was little doubt of her Native American heritage.

He walked over to greet her as she came through the gate. He wanted to say so much, but all he could muster was, "Hey, Annie. It is really, really good to see you."

Not satisfied with his distant greeting, she set down her small flight bag and pulled him close for a tight embrace. She turned her head and stole a kiss. Her thin body felt warm next to his.

They stood there locked in each other's arms, absent of regard for anyone who might be watching. Annie finally backed away and said, "See, now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Damn, Annie, it is really good to see you," he repeated. "You look like you've lost some weight. It looks good."

"Thanks, Phee. You've put on a few pounds, but then you needed to."

He continued, "You know you really didn't have to drop everything and come out here. We could've done this over the phone."

"You're right. We could've done this by phone, but I wanted to see you anyway. The situation with Geoff was as good a reason as any. You said it yourself. You don't have a lot of experience with ghost possession. I have my own selfish reasons besides seeing you. This would make a great case study if Geoff would agree to it."

She pulled Phoenix by the hand and led him back down the walkway. "We need to get my bag." They followed the signs directing them to baggage claim. "How is Geoff doing?" she asked.

"When I talked to him this morning, he said he doesn't feel the presence anymore. I don't know what that means, really."

She took Phoenix by the arm and continued to walk and talk. "It really doesn't do any good to try to guess what it means. You know how this business works as much as I do. It is what it is. All we can do is work to figure out what it all means, based on the best available evidence."

"Yeah, I know. It is just so much more difficult when your friends are affected."

They stopped and watched a huge assortment of luggage drop from the conveyor. All colors, shapes, and sizes of passenger bags fell onto the carousel. A few moments later she pulled away from Phoenix and pointed at a large black bag. "There's mine!"

He edged his way past a young couple who looked like they had just spent a week in Hawaii with their flowery shirts and dark tans. He caught Annie's bag as it came around the corner, took her by the arm, and guided her back down the walkway in the same direction they had just come from.

"The truck is parked down this way." Phoenix pointed to the exit at the other end. "So, have you given any thought as to how we approach the situation here?"

She laughed. "And which situation are you referring to: you and me, or Geoff and his elusive ghost?"

Phoenix shot a quick glance back at her with a slight look of distraction. He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Annie, I'm glad you are here, and I am really looking forward to spending time with you. I've missed you but, for the time being, I'd like to keep it business, at least until we get past this thing with Geoff."

Annie just smiled and leaned in to kiss the good doctor right on the lips. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the taste of her warm mouth. After a few seconds, she pulled away smiling and said, "Okay, so now it can be all business – for the time being. But when this is over, we're going to take some time for us, okay? You've been promising to show me this boat of yours."

"Okay, you've got a deal."

They finished the short walk to his Toyota. Annie took her place on the passenger side and watched Phoenix as he pulled away from the Tallahassee Airport. After a few minutes she said, "It's been a long night. Can you take me to the hotel so I can check into my room, freshen up and change clothes before we go see Geoff?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." After a bit she continued, "I spent some time on the flight meditating and thinking about Geoff's situation. I think it's very important we try to make contact with your ghost again, the sooner the better."

"How do you want to go about that?"

"I think we go back to where he has the strongest connection. Based on what you told me, the McKenzie house seems to be a huge focus for these spirits. That's where the wife was murdered; Geoff's possession started out there." She bit her lower lip in contemplation. "Oh, yeah, it will definitely be there."

Phoenix listened intently as Annie talked about her ideas. When she was done he said, "I am very concerned about Geoff and how he's doing. I've never seen him like this."

"Geoff's going to be fine. But I think your concern is a bit misplaced."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the one you should be concerned with is Chance McKenzie. To help Geoff, he is the one we have to get to."

Phoenix turned into the hotel and found an empty parking space. "Here we are."

He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a room key. "You're already registered. It is room 217, just down from mine."

"I like that." She smiled and continued, "Get my bag for me, would you, please?"

He followed her up the stairs to the second floor. She took the key and her bag from Phoenix and said, "Give me a few minutes. What room are you in?"

He pointed down the walkway. "214."

"I'll come get you when I am ready – fifteen minutes or so."

He stood there for a moment after Annie closed the door. His thoughts were not on the business at hand. His thoughts were on those special nights he'd spent with Annie in Arizona. Actually, it was getting difficult to think about anything other than her.

* * * * *

Echo barely acknowledged Annie when she walked into the conference room with Phoenix close behind. Geoff, on the other hand, could not contain his excitement. Jumping up quickly from his chair, he practically shouted, "Annie!" and pulled her close for a big hug.

Annie stepped back and gave him a quick up and down, "You don't look too bad for a ghost hunter with issues."

"You know how it is. Sometimes your work gets a little too close." Geoff pulled back his hair showing faint worry lines on his forehead. "This one has been pretty rough."

"Are you still feeling a presence?"

"No, I don't think so. I mean sometimes maybe, but not really," Geoff responded with definite uncertainty. "Frankly, it is driving me bloody batty."

She smiled. "I can tell."

She turned and saw Echo staring into a laptop screen trying to ignore her presence. "Hi, Echo," she said in a subdued tone. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she replied matter-of-factly. Her eyes never left the screen.

Annie sighed, "All right then."

Phoenix quickly intervened. "We were talking on the way over from the hotel. I want to pack up the gear and head back over to the McKenzie place."

"What are we looking for now?" Geoff asked.

"We are looking for Chance McKenzie. Annie thinks the McKenzie house is the place to find him and I agree." He started pointing to the different equipment setup around the conference room. "Let's get it all packed. I want to do a full setup at the house again."

Echo seemed a little annoyed but didn't offer any resistance. Completely out of character for her, she didn't offer any input at all. Phoenix decided he would have to talk to her about this thing with Annie, whatever it was, and the sooner the better.

"Damn, Phee, you didn't tell me she was gorgeous!" Howard's voice boomed across the conference room as he entered. He walked over with an outstretched hand.

"Hi, Annie, I'm Howard Wallace." He took her hand and gave it a slow shake, noticing the softness of her almond-colored skin. "I've heard so much about you. I'm glad you were able to come over."

"Hi, Howard, it's so nice to meet you, too." She continued, "I'm hoping we can find some time to chat. Since you went to school with Phoenix, I'm hoping you can fill in some blanks."

Phoenix said, "I don't think that will be necessary. Anything you need to know about my college days, I can tell you; right, Howard?" He gave a quick eyebrow-raising glance at this friend.

"Of course, Phoenix – of course!" He winked at Annie and whispered, "We'll talk."

Phoenix sighed and said, "I knew getting you two in the same room was going to be a bad idea."

"Phee, did I hear you say you were going back to the McKenzie house?" Howard asked.

"Yes, we are."

"Do you mind if I tag along on this one? Maybe if I were actually to see one of your ghosts, I might be bit more open-minded about it all."

"So file folders moving from the cabinet to your desk and handwriting appearing on glass right before your eyes without explanation weren't enough for you?" Phoenix replied.

"It was a start."

Echo was not being quiet about getting the equipment boxed up and ready to go. Geoff had a bit of a distressed look in his eyes. The question seemed to be whether the distress came from Echo or the ghost of Chance McKenzie.

Ghostly Visitor

Two hours later the front room at the McKenzie house was alive with activity. Echo was busy attaching the EEG leads to Geoff, who was unusually subdued. Howard watched with increasing interest the orchestration of the technology Phoenix applied to the business of ghost hunting. The computers and monitors were set up on a couple of tables as before. Cables snaked through the room to the various cameras and sensors used to record the event.

The electricity to the house had been recently disconnected, forcing the ghost hunters to use a small generator for power. Cables ran from the generator outside the house into a small box on the floor. There were a couple of small lamps providing light for the keyboards and recording devices, but, for the most part, the room was extremely dim.

Annie opened her bag and started setting candles about the room, lighting each one as she placed it. Making conversation as she worked, "How long have you been using EEG with Geoff?"

"We started it last summer," Phoenix replied. "It has really added a new dimension to our investigations. Geoff being such a strong clairvoyant, it gave us a source of biological data to compare to the other physical evidence at the scene."

"I think they just wanted to peek inside my brain," Geoff chuckled. "And this girl seems to get a sadistic pleasure out of hooking me up to her computers."

Echo gave a quick tug to the hair on the back of his head. "Next time you call me 'girl', I'm plugging these cables into a wall socket! Comprende, amigo?"

She connected the last cable to the sensors, patted him on the arm, and said, "Try not to get lost, little boy."

Geoff just smiled and said, "Of course. But you can be such a girl sometimes."

Phoenix looked over at Echo. "One more thing. Get a bracelet out for Annie."

Annie looked up and said, "Bracelet?"

Echo rolled her eyes, reached into a plastic carrying case, and pulled out a device looking much like a wristwatch without a clock face. There was a black rectangular pad attached to a nylon woven band. She handed the device to Phoenix.

"It's a small GPS device. We all wear one, so we can track our movements during the course of the investigations. It lets us record our locations in relation to any other physical data we collect," Phoenix said, as he strapped the device onto Annie's wrist. "It's been very useful as hard data to eliminate ourselves as a source of influence on a given area of an environment."

"What about me?" Howard asked.

"This is the last one we have." Phoenix pointed to a chair in front of the video monitor connected to the camera focused on the medium, "I want you to plant your ass in that chair and keep an eye on that monitor. No matter what happens, stay right there and we'll document your location."

"Sounds easy enough to me," he sat where instructed and continued, "But if ghosts start floating about the room, I can't guarantee I'm going to stay here."

Annie laughed, "Me, neither."

"Everything is ready, Phee." Echo sat down and put on a headset. "Let's do it."

Phoenix sat to her right, donned his own headset, and whispered, "Annie is going to take the lead on this one."

"Whatever you say, Doc," Echo replied. She pointed back at Annie with a thumb up, "I guess this is your show now."

Annie opened her bag again and pulled out a small bundle of sage. She ignited the smudged end of the bundle and thick white smoke began billowing from the red glowing embers of the dried desert weed.

Echo chuckled slightly when Annie started singing a soft Native American chant while she moved about the room with her sage. The snicker earned a stern look and quick nudge from her boss. This was Annie's way and he didn't want Echo's issues to interrupt the flow of the moment.

After a couple of complete circles around the room, she laid the still smoldering smudge on a small empty tray set out for just that purpose. Annie nodded at Phoenix and mouthed, "Whenever you are ready."

He spoke into the mouthpiece, "Okay, Geoff, you're all set." Echo keyed in the software command, starting the clock on the data acquisition software.

The constant flickering from the lit candles bounced eerie light throughout the room, adding to the otherworldly feel of the surroundings. Geoff closed his eyes and went through a series of various breathing patterns. He used these advanced relaxation techniques to lower himself into a full trance state.

Howard leaned over and began to ask Phoenix, "What's he –"

Phoenix stopped him cold with a finger placed to his lips in the international sign for shut the hell up! "Shhhhh.... not now," he whispered urgently.

Echo reached into a small case on the floor beside her and pulled out another headset. She plugged it into the audio-mixing console and handed the unit to Howard. He positioned the ear cups in place and adjusted the microphone.

"Can you hear me?" he whispered.

She nudged him and said, "I hear you fine. So can Phee."

Phoenix looked over at Howard and gave a thumb up. Echo continued, "I have Geoff's audio set so he can't hear us, but we can hear him."

She directed Howard to look at her computer screen. In a low voice she whispered, "This is a chart of his brain waves, and here are his other vital signs: pulse, respiration, and temperature. You can see how his pulse rate began to slow down right here." She used an ink pen to point to a spot on one of the onscreen charts. "And here is where he started going into his trance state."

She looked past Howard and took note of how Annie had settled in behind Phoenix. Her hands rested on his shoulder and her bright smile displayed a deep happiness about being there, being part of the team. Annie shifted her gaze quickly to the left and made direct eye contact.

Echo immediately turned her eyes back to her computer screen. Damn, she thought.

Her thoughts and emotions regarding the presence of Annie Kai faded quickly as Geoff started speaking. "Janet? Are you here?"

It was the same southern voice Geoff had previously spoken with. Howard spoke softly into the microphone. "Holy shit, that's Chance McKenzie. I heard that voice quite a bit for the six months leading up to and during the trial. I'd know it anywhere."

"The temperature is starting to fall like a rock," Echo said. "It's dropped five degrees since we started."

Geoff started crying, "Oh, Janet, I am so sorry. I should have been here." He was beginning to squirm in the chair, his feet shuffling side-to-side like an excited teenager dancing in the gym.

Echo's voice had a slight edge of concern to it as she spoke into her headset. "Phoenix, his heart is racing and his body temperature is falling dangerously low. I don't like it."

"Just keep an eye on it," he replied. "Annie, if there is anything you can do, now is the time."

Annie walked in behind the chair where Geoff was seated. She reached from behind and placed the palms of her hands on his face. Her head tilted back and her eyes closed.

"I'm here for you, Chance McKenzie," she said in a soft voice. "Release this person and reveal yourself. We are not here to harm you."

Echo's uncanny sixth sense kicked in and she turned her head to look at the uncovered windows at the front of the house. She struggled to focus on the face of a person hiding in the shadows watching the activity unfolding inside the McKenzie house. It was too dark to make out much more than the outline of a face and the glint off a pair of steely eyes.

"PHOENIX!" Echo shouted. "Someone's at the window!"

Phoenix and Howard both leaped to their feet, ripped off their headset, and bolted towards the front door. Phoenix led the way and tore open the door quickly, hoping to find the person watching them from the outside.

Three shots rang out from the street as the ghost hunter stepped onto the front porch. One of the bullets painfully nicked his ear before slamming into the wooden door jamb behind him. Howard pulled him back into the safety of the front room, but not before he got a brief look at the silhouette of the gunman standing near the street.

Blood trickled down the side of Phoenix's neck from the small injury. He started to reach up when Echo grabbed his hand. "Don't touch it. I'll get the first aid kit."

Echo ran over to a case sitting by the back wall and dug out the kit. Howard quickly dialed a number on his cell phone. After the second ring, Sheriff Clayton answered. He heard the sound of squealing tires and roar of a powerful engine as the gunman escaped into the night.

"Doug, it's Howard. You need to get a couple of units over to the McKenzie house pronto. Phoenix Worthy has been shot.

"No, it is not much more than a flesh wound, but I need you to lock down the neighborhood. Find out if anyone saw anything. Oh, and get Robbie Weaver over here. I want forensics on any slugs he is able to dig out of the woodwork."

Doug Clayton sent out the call before replying, "I'll be over there in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Doug. See you shortly." He looked over to check on Geoff and Annie. "Are you two okay?"

Annie was kneeling down in front of Geoff. "I think so. He started coming out of the trance when Echo shouted."

Geoff lifted his head. "What happened?"

"Echo saw someone outside spying on us and, when Phoenix ran outside, they took a couple of shots at him," Annie said, as she started the process of disconnecting Geoff from the instruments.

Phoenix winced as Echo dabbed sterile gauze at his wounded ear. "Damn it, Eck; take it easy."

"Oh, you're such a whiner."

Annie walked over and looked at the wound. "Oh, that's not too bad. It could have been much worse."

Echo exclaimed in a tone indicating her displeasure with Annie, "Well, yeah, it could have been three inches to the left and entered his skull right between his eyeballs."

Annie shot a disapproving glance Echo's way and took Phoenix by the hand. The young Hispanic rolled her eyes and handed the gauze to the professor. "Here, you take care of him. I'm going to start packing up. When the cops get here, we're out of business, you know."

She walked over to check on Geoff before getting busy with the gear. He had not moved from the chair and was sitting there leaned over with his head cradled in his hands. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"My head feels like it has been ripped apart with a crow bar."

She dug around in the first aid kit until she found a package of aspirin, grabbed a bottle of water, and handed it over to Geoff. "Take these and see if it helps."

Annie tugged on Phoenix's hand. "Are you okay?"

Staring off into the distance, he replied simply, "I am very much okay."

The brush with death began to sink in with the absolute truth of Echo's statement. A matter of a couple of inches and a mile of good luck meant he was still alive and knee-deep in the hunt, not just for ghosts, but for a killer. The investigation went well beyond the McKenzie murders, and whoever killed Janet just took a piece of his ear. For that, someone was going to pay.

# Chapter 15 - Forensic Evidence

Sheriff Clayton inspected the wound across the top of Doctor Worthy's ear. It was barely a nick; just enough to say you had been shot. He chuckled and said, "You are a very lucky man, Mr. Worthy. Another couple of inches and you'd be in autopsy right now. Hell, these other folks would be looking for your ghost."

Phoenix did not remember the Sheriff as being a man of such impeccable wit. "Don't remind them. They would probably like nothing better."

Robbie Weaver walked over and interrupted their exchange. He reserved comment on the wound and held up a small plastic bag containing the deformed bullet he had just retrieved from the jamb surrounding the front door. "I found three slugs embedded in the wood door frame. This is the best of the bunch. It looks like a 9mm. Whoever shot at you was careless. He didn't police his brass and I found three shell casings by the street."

"Nice job, Robbie," the Sheriff said. "Work that up as quickly as you can. Let's see if we come up with a match."

"I dusted for prints around the window where Echo said she saw the guy, but there was nothing there except a few smudges; not even a partial.

"There is not much more I can do here, so I'm headed back to the lab to run the casings and the slug. I should have an answer in a couple of hours."

"I want that gun, Robbie," Sheriff Clayton scowled.

"If it's in the system, we will know everything about it shortly." Robbie turned and walked over to speak to Echo before leaving. Phoenix smiled, knowing how much she liked this one; he liked the glow on Echo's face. Robbie was a nice guy, and definitely her type – smart and geeky.

The Sheriff turned back to Phoenix. "Just so we're clear, I don't like whatever it is you and your team are doing here. I don't care if Wallace did bring you in on this thing; I don't like it one bit."

"That's fair enough, Sheriff. I understand how you feel. I wouldn't like it either if someone else came in on one of my investigations. I want to assure you we are on the same team here and we want the same thing. We both want whoever killed Janet McKenzie and Ann Waverly."

Sheriff Clayton bit down on the unlit cigar dangling from his lip. It had been a constant companion since he quit smoking a year before. In a low sneer, he responded, "Yes, Mister Worthy – we most certainly do."

"Unless you have any more questions for me Sheriff, I'd like to check on the rest of my team."

"No, we're done. If I need anything else, I'll give you a call." The Sheriff turned to talk to his lead detective but stopped and shouted back at the ghost hunter, "One more thing. Keep me posted with what you and your team are up to."

"Will do, Sheriff."

Phoenix had been anxiously watching Annie and Echo tend to Geoff on the other side of the room. He was still recovering from the brutal interruption of his trance state. Under the best of circumstances, moving into and out of alternate states of consciousness was very tricky.

Geoff sat at the table where the equipment was set up for the earlier recording; his head hung into his hands as he stared down towards his feet. Echo was rubbing his shoulders as Annie stood by watching.

"How is he?" Phoenix asked as he walked up beside Annie.

"He's okay. Just a little shook up and has a brutal headache," replied Echo. She turned back to Phoenix and continued, "How's your ear?"

"I'm okay. It barely nicked me."

Geoff lifted his head and looked up. "Blimey, Phoenix, that was a rough go of it. Did you get any kind of look at who was out there?"

"All I saw was a dark silhouette and the flash of a handgun. After Howard pulled me back inside, I heard the sound of a small sports car taking off, but that's about it."

"I barely heard the shots," Geoff said.

"Do you remember anything about the time right before we were interrupted?"

"She was here. Janet McKenzie was here."

Annie interrupted, "Oh, my God, Phoenix, she was. I felt her, too, very strong. The bonding connection between Janet and her husband in the spiritual world pulses energy into our world like nothing I have felt before."

Geoff added, "She's right, Doc. McKenzie is using me as a conduit between our world and theirs. I'm not always aware of his presence, but when his wife showed up, he really took hold."

Phoenix stood there processing the input from the team. His mind raced with the possibilities. This was the kind of ghost hunting experience that made it all worthwhile.

On most hunts, ghosts turned out to be figments of an over active imagination or the hopeful desire of a grieving widow. The process of the hunt usually uncovered the source as something natural, like the wind through wooden slats or the heat expansion of iron pipes or metal doors. It was a very rare occasion when unexplainable phenomenon presented itself to the team. The intrusion of spirits like Chance and Janet McKenzie in this manner, nearly physical in nature, was much like the Holy Grail for all ghost hunters.

Phoenix spoke to this team in an excited voice. "You know, we have an extraordinary opportunity here. The McKenzies are presenting themselves to us in ways we have never been able to document before."

He looked over at Geoff and asked, "Are you still connected to McKenzie?"

"I can't say for sure, Phee. I think so, but, the way I feel, it could just be the aftermath of tonight's connection."

Phoenix looked at his watch. "It is getting pretty late. Why don't we call it a night and come back tomorrow evening to try this again. I am pretty sure I could get the Sheriff to provide a deputy to watch the outside while we work."

"I like that idea, a lot. I'm beat," Echo said. "We can just leave the gear here and I will come back over in the morning to set everything back up. Maybe Howard could pull some strings with the power company and get them to turn the electricity back on."

"Just take the laptops and, in the morning, see if you were able to get any audio recordings before we were interrupted."

Phoenix's cell phone rang, breaking the brief quiet of the moment.

"Phoenix Worthy," he answered. After a few moments, he responded, "Sure, I'll be there in a little while."

He pushed the phone button ending the brief call. "That was Howard. They have a match on the ballistics. That Weaver kid works fast. It was a nine-millimeter fired from a handgun reported stolen last year. It belonged to one of the deputies – Deputy J.C. Brown. He's the one who took me for a ride in his patrol car the other day. Sheriff Clayton is having him come in for questioning and Howard thinks I should be there.

"Geoff, why don't you let Echo drive you and Annie back to the hotel? I'll meet you all back there in the morning around 9:00 for breakfast."

"That works for me," Geoff replied. "I'm beat." He reached into his pocket and tossed the keys over to Echo. "Let's go."

As they headed for the door, Annie took Phoenix by the arm and said, "Try not to be out all night. Tomorrow's going to be a long day." She kissed him on the cheek before following the rest of the team out the door.

Phoenix smiled.

# Chapter 16 - Deputy Brown

The interrogation room at the Sheriff's station was typical of most. The walls were barren of posters or pictures. The paint, light and glossy, acted to enhance the harshness of the fluorescent lighting hanging from the ceiling just above a gray table in the center of the room. The mirrored glass along one wall separated the adjoining office.

Deputy J.C. Brown sat in one chair, his hands folded together in front of him. Sheriff Clayton sat across from him, silently scanning the contents of a folder sitting on the table in front of him.

Howard stood watching the activity in the adjacent room, the mirrored glass concealing his presence. The door behind him opened and Phoenix walked in.

"Has he said anything?" Phoenix asked.

"Nothing much yet. Doug is going over the report of the stolen pistol from last year to see if there are any discrepancies."

Phoenix thought back to the meeting with Deputy J.C. Brown shortly after their arrival in Tallahassee. He remembered his promise to keep in confidence the deputy's involvement with the file at the Sheriff's office. He also remembered his evaluation of the Deputy and hoped he was accurate. J.C. Brown was not a killer.

Over the loud speaker, Phoenix heard Doug Clayton begin his interrogation of the Deputy.

"J.C., where were you tonight around 9:30?"

"I was home."

The Sheriff studied his Deputy's face, as if he was trying to size up the mind of a master criminal, with a long silent stare designed to make the interviewee uncomfortable. J.C. had been in enough interviews to recognize it immediately.

"Come on, Doug, you don't really think I falsified the gun theft report, hid it somewhere for over a year, just to pull it out tonight to take pot shots at the McKenzie place."

"I don't know what to think," the Sheriff said after a short delay. "J.C., I talked to Carolyn a little while ago. She tells me you haven't lived there in almost four months."

The deputy leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking back at the Sheriff. "Yeah, so what? We separated four months ago. I thought it was best to not talk about it."

The Sheriff thought it best not to let his deputy know the separation was common knowledge within the department. You just can't hide things like that on a small town police force.

"So where are you living?" he asked.

"I am staying in my cabin out at Lake Jackson."

"You were there all day? Alone?"

"Just me."

"Can anyone confirm you were there?"

"Nope. I was there all day. You know this was my day off. What is this all about, Sheriff?"

Howard looked over at Phoenix. "What do you think?"

He thought about it a minute. "Have the Sheriff ask him about his car. What kind of car does he drive?"

"I don't have to ask the Sheriff. I know what kind of car he drives. He treats his car better than he treats his wife and kids, which might explain the separation. It is a 1968 Super Bee, the one with the 426 Hemi. It's loud and proud."

Without hesitation, Phoenix quickly left the room and made the short walk down the hall to the interrogation room door. He threw the door wide open, interrupting the Sheriff's interview. Howard followed just a few steps behind, obviously dismayed with his friend's actions.

Sheriff Clayton looked up at the ghost hunter standing in the open doorway. "Doctor Worthy, I hope you have a good explanation for interrupting my interview."

Howard leaned in right behind Phoenix and said, "I'm sorry, Doug, I don't know what got into him."

"It's the car," said Phoenix. "The car I heard leaving right after the gunshots. It was some kind of high-powered sports car, like one of those Japanese or European models, but certainly not a sixties muscle car."

"Why didn't you mention that at the scene?"

"I didn't think about it until a few minutes ago. You might remember I had just been shot."

The Sheriff looked back over at his deputy. "I'm sorry, J.C., but without any other suspects, when the gun match came back to you, we had to get you in here for questioning. I never once really thought you were involved."

"I'm sure you didn't," Deputy Brown sarcastically shot back at the Sheriff. "Can I go now?"

"Sure," the sheriff said, as he closed the file lying on the table. "I don't want you anywhere near this case; do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Sheriff."

J.C. stopped by the door on the way out. He stretched out his hand, which Phoenix took without hesitation. "Thanks, Doctor Worthy. I owe you one."

Phoenix nodded in agreement. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

Howard stepped aside and let the deputy walk down the hall. Sheriff Clayton picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Danny, J.C. Brown is headed your way. Take him wherever he needs to go and report back to me where that is."

Phoenix said, "What about the car I heard?"

"The car you heard could be driven by any doctor, lawyer, or rich kid in Tallahassee. That is not a lead; that is a smorgasbord of dead ends."

Howard said, "No, not really much to go on there. This is a college town full of those little imports."

"Damn," the sheriff said. "We are very short on leads here. His handgun is the closest thing we've had. The D.A. called me a little while ago asking about the Waverly case." He looked over at Howard. "Expect a call from her. She's livid about you bringing in your friend."

Howard replied with a slight resignation, "That was only a matter of time."

Phoenix reached down and picked up the folder lying on the table. Looking over at the Sheriff, he asked, "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," he growled. Everybody in the room was painfully aware of exactly how much he did mind.

Phoenix read the file carefully. On the afternoon of January 10th, well over a year ago, a nine-millimeter automatic, belonging to Deputy J.C. Brown, was stolen from his locker in the County Health Center. He had been working out for over an hour when he discovered the lock had been jimmied and the only thing missing was the handgun. It was a personal firearm registered with the Department. Most officers kept a spare, so it was not unusual.

"I don't see any notes here from the investigation."

"Well, there really wasn't one. There was no video from inside the Center; there were no prints on the locker other than J.C.'s and the janitor's, who was not working that night. He was visiting family near Tampa. There was no other physical evidence. The sign-in sheet read like a who's who of the county legal system, from the D.A. down through an array of law clerks; it had been a busy night in the Health Center. We questioned a lot of people, but nobody saw anything. In the end we treated it like most other burglaries. There was not much we could do until the weapon showed up somewhere."

"Like tonight?"

The Sheriff replied, "Yeah, like tonight."

"What are you thinking?" Howard asked.

"I'm thinking whoever stole J.C.'s pistol thought maybe someday they could use it to throw suspicion towards Deputy Brown, or more importantly, away from themselves."

The Sheriff looked up and said, "I suppose that is possible, but without hard evidence or a suspect, it is just a theory and a mighty thin one at that.

"Look, fellows, it's getting late, and I would really like to get some sleep tonight." Doug Clayton was past ready to be home.

Phoenix looked at his watch. It was 1:30 in the morning. "Yeah, me too." He handed the file back to the Sheriff.

Sheriff Clayton headed down the hall with Howard and Phoenix close behind. When they got to the parking lot, Phoenix looked over at Howard and said, "Something the Sheriff said got me thinking."

"About what?"

"I'd rather not say, just in case I am wrong, but if I am right I have an idea how we might flush out our killer."

"You know it irritates me when you do that, but I'll trust your instincts." He climbed into his car and drove away.

Phoenix pushed a speed dial button on his cell phone. A sleepy voice picked up on the other end, "Hello?"

"Jason, it's Phoenix."

"Of course it is. Nobody except you ever wakes me up at 2:00 in the morning."

"Get up and grab a pencil. There are a couple of things I want you to look into for me."

"Hang on," Jason Ayers replied, as he dug around for a pencil and piece of paper. "Okay, I'm ready."

Phoenix spelled out exactly what he wanted his young nephew to do. "You got all that?"

"Yes, sir. When do you need it?"

"As soon as you can get it, but quicker would be better. Thanks Jay, now go back to sleep."

"Yeah, right."

The line clicked silent on the other end. He hoped he was right and the information his nephew would dig up would confirm his suspicions before another body turned up in Tallahassee.

# Chapter 17 - Chance in Charge

Annie had barely drifted off to sleep when a knock on the door startled her awake. She tried desperately to ignore it, but whoever it was remained persistent. The knocking grew harder and louder. She climbed from her warm bed and looked out the peephole to see Geoff standing there alone and intent on waking anyone within earshot. She cracked open the door slightly with the chain still in place.

"What's wrong, Geoff?"

"Miss Kai, I need you to come with me."

The voice was startling. The absence of Geoff's distinctly British accent and the presence of a soft southern drawl took her completely by surprise.

"Chance McKenzie?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. Then after a short pause, "Miss Kai, I really need you to come with me."

"Where do we need to go?"

"We have to go see Janet."

"Where is she?"

"She's at home."

Her mind raced with excitement and thoughts of new insights into the mechanisms of ghost possession and human interaction with the spirit world. She looked down and remembered she was in her night clothes.

"Give me a minute. I need to get dressed."

"Please hurry. We don't have much time."

She closed the door and rushed to her cell phone. She dialed Phoenix's number to let him know what was going on. The call rolled immediately to voice mail as if he were on another call. After the beep, she spoke quickly into her phone, "Phoenix, this is extraordinary. Chance McKenzie is totally in possession and control of Geoff. I've never seen anything like it. He is standing outside my door waiting, wanting me to leave with him right now to go see Janet, I think, back at their house. I am going to go with him, but you need to be a part of this. Please call me when you get this message. I'm going to get Echo to come along."

She dropped the call and hurriedly threw on some clothes. Just before opening the door she remembered the GPS bracelet Phoenix had given her to wear. She had taken it off before showering and it still sat on the nightstand by the clock. She quickly wrapped it on her wrist before leaving the room to join Geoff outside.

"I want to let Echo know where we are going," she said.

"No," he replied sternly and pulled her towards the stairwell. "We need to go right now. We don't need her."

Annie's instincts told her she was not in danger. Her spirit guides acted to calm her excitement, but her stomach still churned with portions of fear and trepidation. She decided to trust her companion and go with him. Phoenix would get her message and be coming right behind her.

"Can I drive?" she asked.

"Yes. That is probably best."

Extraordinary, she thought. This was the most complete case of ghost possession she had ever witnessed. The persona of the young Brit had been totally replaced by the friendly character of this southern blue-collar worker. The opportunity to further her research was motivation enough to engage Chance in conversation.

"Chance, where is Geoff Davies?"

"We are here... together."

They walked along the sidewalk to Geoff's truck. She climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Chance to get in the other side. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Home – we were there together earlier tonight."

"Your house?"

"Yes."

Annie started the truck and drove off towards Cardinal Court. Her heart pounded with anticipation; adrenalin drove her nerves to hypersensitivity.

"Chance, do you know who killed your wife?"

"No, we don't. I must talk to Janet. I need you to help me do that."

"What do you need me to do?"

Geoff sat quietly and stared straight ahead. Annie reached over, touched his hand, and found it nearly cool to the touch. She noted his breathing had slowed, and his movements were somewhat lethargic and subdued.

"Chance, I need to know what you need me to do."

"I need to talk to Janet and you can help me. We are traveling in different astral planes right now. We pass each other like empty shadows on opposite walls. We are losing connection in this world. You can help us – you can help bring us back together."

"Is Geoff okay? He seems so cold."

"We are fine. I'm protecting him."

Annie made the turn down Cardinal Court and pulled into the driveway. The McKenzie house was eerily dark. She reached into her pockets and quickly said, "Geoff, I don't have a key."

"It's okay. I can get in," he replied.

He came around, took her by the hand, and led her down the walkway towards the house. As they stepped onto the small porch, he reached up above the doorway and searched for a key that he had hidden there sometime in the past.

"I knew where the key was," he said.

Annie's heart was pounding as fear churned in her soul. She reached deep inside herself, imploring her spirit guides to protect her. Every facet of her spiritual fabric was charged with the energy given off by the forces at work.

Chance led the way into the house. She followed close behind and was struck immediately with the cold. Her breath began to fog from the temperature difference. Her heart pounded and her eyes fought to see in the dimness of the living room. The light coming from the street cast barely enough light to see the living room floor.

She began questioning her own sanity for following Geoff down this path and reached for her phone to try to call Phoenix one more time. Geoff reached out and touched her hand as she lifted the phone to her head.

"Annie, we are not going to hurt you. We need you, and time is slipping away."

She stopped and tried to calm her breathing. After taking a deep breath, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Chance reached out his hand. "Come with me."

She took his hand and followed him deeper into the front room. The tables and chairs were exactly where they were before. He led her to the chair where Geoff had, earlier in the evening, reached out in his trance state.

"Sit here," he said.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked again.

"I need you to allow Janet to come in, to join with you, so we can meet in your world."

She quickly drew back her hand. The thought of allowing Janet's spirit to enter her consciousness went against everything she had been taught and believed. She prided herself in being in total control and the possibility of losing it under the influence of a spirit was very disturbing.

"I can't do it; I won't allow it."

"Annie?" It was the familiar British accent of Geoff Davies.

"Geoff," she took his hand quickly. "Are you okay? What are you doing?"

"Yes, I am fine," he replied. "Look, Annie, I think it is important you do what they are asking."

"Why, Geoff? What will happen?"

"Their spirits are suffering from the separation. Their pain is excruciating. I feel it, too, but it is different for them. If you can act as the conduit to bring them together, I think it will bring the resolution they desperately need."

The British accent disappeared and Chance McKenzie continued, "We have to move quickly. Janet's energy is fading; she risks sliding into a different dimension. Allowing her to join with you will let her to use your energy as a beacon to return to this plane. It is her only hope."

She swallowed hard and bristled with the thought. After a few moments she resigned herself to their situation and responded, "Okay, I will do it, but my way."

"If that's the way it has to be."

"That's the way it has to be."

Annie reached into her medicine bag and pulled out a small bundle of sage and a tiny candle. She lit the candle, set it on the small table to the right of the chair, and used it to light the bundle. The pungent smell of the burning desert weed began slowly drifting through the room.

She lifted her eyes and raised her arms towards the ceiling. With her palms out in prayer she began to sing a mystical chant, passed down many generations from her shaman ancestors.

Nata-Alkai Beqa-Qojogi

Nata-Litsoi Beqa-Docol

Nata-Altsai Beqa-Lijgo

Nata-Jogi Beqa-Qastceyalti

Nata-Alkai Beqa-Qojogi

Nata-Litsoi Beqa-Docol

Nata-Altsai Beqa-Lijgo

Nata-Jogi Beqa-Qastceyalti

She asked for protection as she opened herself to the spiritual world. Fear fell from her like raindrops rolling off a tin roof during a summer shower. She sang three stanzas of the ancient song, cleansing Geoff and the room with the white smoke of the white sage. She placed the still smoldering smudge into a metal tray on the table.

"I'm ready," she said.

Geoff guided her to the chair.

She sat down and closed her eyes, quickly drifting into deep meditation with her spirit guides. The sensation of a bright light soon began to consume her. It was much like opening a curtain on a bright morning.

She felt Janet McKenzie begin to move in concert with her spirit guides. In her mind's eye, there was a brief moment where they stood side-by-side on a desert mesa as two separate beings, and an instant later they were one, standing in the living room at 417 Cardinal Court. Her spirit guides shielded her from absolute possession by the invading spirit. They were of one body, yet each consciousness remained. Annie watched from her spiritual plane as Chance engaged with his dead wife.

"Oh, Chance!" she shouted.

"Janet!"

Annie and Geoff locked in an intimate embrace usually reserved for lovers or husbands and wives. The energy of their unified spirit cast bright light throughout the all but empty room.

# Chapter 18 - Janet McKenzie

Phoenix pulled into the parking lot of their hotel. He quickly noted the absence of Geoff's truck and reached for his cell phone to call and find out where he might be. The missed call and the voice mail indicator flashed to inform him of Annie's earlier attempt.

He pushed the button to access his messages. The color drained from his concerned face as he listened to Annie's frantic voicemail from earlier in the night. He hung up and immediately pressed the key that speed dialed his friend from Arizona. After several rings, it rolled to voice mail. He hung up immediately and rang Geoff's number with the same result. He heard Geoff's simple, "Leave me a blinkin' message!"

"Damn it," he exclaimed, quickly ending the call and pressing the key that dialed Echo's number. After the third ring, her sleepy voice greeted the doctor.

"Hello?"

"Echo, where are you?"

"I'm in bed, asleep. Where did you think I would be?"

"Damn, you were supposed to be with them!"

"Huh?" she said.

"Get dressed and get down here. Annie and Geoff have gone back to the house. Hurry up, I'll explain on the way." He started to hang up, but added, "Bring the laptop and the thermal camera."

"I'll be right down," she replied and ended the call.

Phoenix paced back and forth beside his Land Cruiser and waited for the young technician to come down from her room. He kept a constant vigil on his watch, whose hands seemed almost frozen in place. His thoughts raced from the excitement of the ghost hunt to fears for the safety of his friends.

He looked up to the second level railing in time to see Echo's room door open and the young technician step onto the walkway.

"Come on," he shouted. "Let's go!"

"I'm coming as fast as I can," her annoyance evidenced in the tone of her response. "I can only run so fast with this stuff you asked me to lug down."

When dealing with Echo he had learned when and which battles to fight, when to push her forward and when to pull her along. Right now, he needed her to be focused on the task at hand. The team was at risk, and Echo's performance over the next few days would be a critical component to the success of the investigation. Still, it was hard to focus when his friends were at risk.

She rounded the corner, exiting the stairwell that rose back to the second level. The brisk pace of her walk helped lay to rest any concern Phoenix had about her commitment at this time of the morning.

"So, what the hell is going on?" she asked.

He opened the door and replied, "Get in, I'll explain on the way."

Echo climbed up into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. One of the first things she had learned about Phoenix was the way he took on the persona of a race car driver whenever he got excited. He slammed the door closed beside her and rushed to the driver's side. The tires squealed as the Toyota raced from the parking lot.

"Okay, Doc, what's this all about?"

Phoenix filled her in on the contents of Annie's voice mail. "I don't like this one bit. She knows better considering the circumstances, even if Geoff is not responsible. She's jeopardizing the integrity of the investigation."

"You know, Phoenix, if the roles were reversed, you would have done the same thing. She's an investigator, too. From the sound of it, Geoff really did not leave her much choice."

He looked over at his young protégé', amazed at her insight. "Where did you get so smart?"

"From hanging out with you guys, of course."

Echo blushed with the small accolade offered by her mentor. He usually did a pretty good job of offering praise where needed, criticism where warranted, and advice where requested. He could temper it with the compassion of a saint or deliver it with the finesse of a mud wrestler. She rarely saw him exhibit these qualities when under the stress of an active investigation.

Phoenix made the last turn down Cardinal Court and pulled into the driveway behind Geoff's truck.

"Do you see that?" Echo shouted.

"Oh, yeah!"

The windows along the front room of the house were ablaze with an intense luminous light dancing like the shimmering surface of blue water.

"What do you make of it?" she asked.

"I don't have a clue," he replied. "But we need to get in there and pronto."

Echo snapped a couple of photos of the house before opening the door and responding, "I'm right behind you."

"Have the thermal imager ready to take a shot the moment we go through the door. Our presence here may quickly impact whatever is going on in there."

She lifted the thermal camera in preparation for their entry and followed him down the walkway to the front door. She noted the brilliance of the light splaying from the glass windows and the absence of associated sound. These joined together to provide an unearthly sensation of sparkle and deafness.

Phoenix reached out for the door and asked, "Are you ready?"

She took a big breath and replied, "Not really, but go ahead, I am right behind you." In the dozens of investigations she had been a part of with the PRI team, she had never experienced the kind of fear now rippling throughout her body.

Phoenix threw open the door and started to enter the room but stopped abruptly. Echo collided with him and the thermal imager dropped from her hand. Without the strap anchoring the unit to her arm, it would have ended up on the floor, broken into a dozen costly pieces.

"What the hell?" Phoenix exclaimed.

In the middle of the room, Annie and Geoff were engaged in a deep kiss, their arms entangled around each other in a tight embrace, seemingly unaware of the newcomers to the scene.

"Oh, shit!" Echo exclaimed, fighting back a giggle.

The bright light that had greeted them as they approached the house immediately began to fade away.

Annie pushed away from Geoff; her face ablaze with the pink blush of a teenager caught by her parents in the midst of her first kiss. Geoff's demeanor seemed stoic and distant, as if he was totally unaware of his actions or surroundings.

"Phoenix," Annie started. She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled beneath her. She searched inside for the presence of Janet but was unable to find any evidence of her ever being there.

Phoenix stood there in a state of shock. The ghost hunter had prepared himself for any ghostly scene he might find, but the vision of Annie kissing his British protégé took him by surprise in ways he had never considered. He didn't know whether to be furious or curious.

"Phoenix!" Annie shouted again.

"I'm sorry, Annie," he was finally able to manage. "Uh... what was going on here?"

"Oh, it was amazing," she said.

In a soft voice, Echo injected, "Oh, I bet it was."

Annie ignored Echo and continued, "The spirit of Janet McKenzie joined with me. It was totally amazing. I was fortunate. My spirit guides were able to isolate me from her ability to completely consume me. It was like we shared consciousness in my body.

"Geoff, on the other hand, was totally possessed by Chance. He was not much more than a puppet at that point."

"You were kissing him," Phoenix could only point out the obvious.

Echo chuckled, amused with the awkwardness of the situation. A quick glance from the doctor indicated his displeasure over her amusement. She sought quick retreat by offering, "I'm going to try to take some EMF readings, give you two, uh...time to talk."

In a state of complete bewilderment as the connection to Chance diminished, Geoff quickly spoke up, "What's going on? Where am I?"

Echo took him by the hand and said, "Let's get you some air." He stood and she led him out the door, leaving Annie and Phoenix standing together in the living room.

Phoenix searched the room for any evidence of a ghostly presence. For some reason he found it terribly difficult to look Annie in the eyes.

She took his hand and led him over to the empty chair.

"You have to know what you saw was not what you think you saw," Annie began explaining. "You always talk about not trusting your eyes and ears when going about this business. It is time to follow your own advice.

"Regardless of what your eyes told you when you came through the front door, what you saw was the essence of Janet and Chance McKenzie reuniting in the physical world. Geoff and I were just the vehicles they chose."

"Intellectually, I know what you are saying is right." Phoenix took her by the hand. "Emotionally, I still care deeply for you and, when I saw you kissing Geoff, it just took me by surprise."

"It wasn't Geoff, and it wasn't me," she replied. "You have to look at it that way."

She leaned over and kissed the ghost hunter right on the lips with the soft passion of a young lover. She pulled away slightly and said, "Now, just so you know without any doubt, that was totally me."

A New Day Begins

The PRI team sat in silence, each reflecting on the events of the night before. The Dixie Diner had become their unofficial morning office. Where just a few days before the ghost hunting team had been the main topic of conversation, now they were just another group of workers readying themselves for the tasks of the day. Plates of food and glasses of juice sat mostly untouched. Rachel Evans stood above them, holding a full pot of coffee and surveying the team.

"So, what happened to you guys?" she joked. "Ghost got your tongues?"

Echo said, "Oh, if you only knew."

Desperately trying to hide his annoyance, Phoenix looked up at the tall server. "Good morning, Rachel."

"From the looks on your faces, I thought I was serving a table of zombies. Wait a second... you guys don't do zombies... you do ghosts."

In almost perfect unison, Annie and Geoff burst into laughter. Echo was practically in tears as she thought back to the amorous embrace of the previous evening.

Phoenix chuckled. "Okay, okay. I get it. You're right; we were being a bit morose."

"A bit?" Rachel replied.

"Okay, maybe more than a bit." Phoenix held out his half empty coffee cup, "Could you warm this up for me?"

She took the cup and filled it with more coffee. "Here you go." She handed the cup back to the ghost hunter and added, "I assume you were not asking me to microwave what was left in your cup."

Echo was laughing out loud, "Oh, I like her!"

"Yeah, well, so do I," Phoenix said. "Thank you, Rachel. Now that you have reduced my team to a group of babbling idiots, your work here is done."

Unable to come up with another snappy comeback, she turned around and walked back to the servers' station.

"Oh, come on, Phee," Echo said. "She was just being friendly and you have to admit she did break the chill around the table."

"You're right," he said, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and tossing it on the table. "I'll apologize with the tip."

Geoff chimed in, "What's on your mind for the day, Doc?"

"I think a lot depends on how you are doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how are you doing? Are you alone today or do you have guests hanging about in that British mind of yours?"

Geoff raised an eyebrow and responded, "Well, I can't say for sure, mate. I don't sense his presence, but the bloke could be hanging around, hidden away in some deep crevice of my mind."

Annie turned to Geoff and asked, "What do you remember about last night?"

"Not much," he started. "We came back here after Phoenix got shot. I showered and hit the sack. That is the last thing I remember until... until I was sitting there kissing you." The soft skin of his cheeks glowed a soft red. He turned back towards Phoenix and added, "Surely you know that was not me."

"Yeah, I know."

"And then you chaps came in," Geoff shrugged his shoulders. "That's about all I know."

Annie thought about it for a few seconds and continued. "This is the most intense case of ghost possession I have ever seen. I think we should try to recreate the event with a full data-collection setup."

Geoff raised his hand. "If this means more kissing, I think I will take a pass."

"You didn't like kissing the Indian Princess?" Echo asked.

"Hey!" Annie quickly interrupted.

"I don't remember kissing her, in case you forgot. What I do remember is the look on his face," he said, pointing a finger at Phoenix. "I'd rather face the Loch Ness Monster than get that look from him again."

Phoenix lifted his hand to enter the discussion. "I'll try not to look so shocked but, unfortunately, she is right. We've got nothing to substantiate last night's event – no photos, no video, no audio, not even a Polaroid. Echo damn near dropped the thermal cam when she collided with my backside, so I know she didn't get anything.

"No, I want to go back over there this evening. Set it up again with full instrumentation." Phoenix was excited about the prospect of collecting data of the full ghost possession and interaction. He considered the risks and the rewards far outweighed any danger to his team.

Just as Geoff was saying, "But what if..." Phoenix's cell phone rang.

"Phoenix Worthy," he spoke into the phone.

The rest of the team watched as the ghost hunter listened intently to the caller. His eyes darted side to side, contemplating the content of the call.

"Okay, I'll be at your office in thirty minutes. Thanks for the heads up." Phoenix ended the call.

"What was that about?" Annie asked.

"That was Howard," he started. "They got an anonymous tip on Deputy Brown's stolen nine-millimeter. Sheriff Clayton found the gun stashed under the front seat of J.C.'s patrol car." Phoenix paused to ponder the circumstances and then continued, "Frankly, it just sounds a little too tidy for me."

"It doesn't sound very good for Deputy Brown either," Geoff added.

"That's just part of it," Phoenix continued. "Two years ago, a hiker found the skeletal remains of a female body out by one of the lakes. They never identified the body nor came up with any suspects, until now."

"Is Howard thinking the deputy might be involved?"

"There is no evidence, but the body was found less than a mile from Brown's lake house. He is not even sure if the cases are connected, but he would like us to go to the crime scene and see if we can uncover anything they missed."

Echo quickly chimed in, "Considering the sloppy investigation by the crime scene techs at the McKenzie house, I suppose it's possible they missed something out there. But since it was so long ago, there won't be any physical evidence left."

"Howard specifically asked for Geoff and his special talents."

"Oh," she acknowledged, understanding the implications of the request. "He thinks there might be a ghost out there?"

"He thinks there hasn't been anything to go on and is opened-minded to other eyes looking at the case."

"So, they're desperate,." Echo concluded.

"That is one way of looking at it," he chuckled. "Geoff, if you feel up to it, I told Howard we would meet him at his office. He'll take us out there to look around."

"What about us?" Annie asked.

"Just stay here until we return. It'll be this afternoon sometime. Get the gear ready and we'll go back to the McKenzie house this evening."

The look on the Echo's face gave clear indication of her displeasure at being excluded from the visit to the lake. "You don't think I should go along with a camera and recorder to document the investigation?"

"Geoff can take care of it. Honestly, I'm not very optimistic about finding anything."

Annie stood up and said, "I'm going to go back to the room and meditate. I want to get my notes together about last night while it's still fresh in my mind."

Echo followed close behind. "Wait up, Annie – I'll walk with you."

Geoff watched them leave the diner before turning to Phoenix and saying, "Does it surprise you they seem to be getting along so well?"

"Not at all. Annie told me on the way in from the airport she would try to patch things up with Echo while she was here. I am a little surprised Echo seems to be so receptive."

Geoff chuckled as he added, "Cowgirls and Indians."

* * * * *

Two hours later, Phoenix and Geoff stood with Howard Wallace on a dry, sandy beach along a remote section of Lake Jackson. They had walked almost a mile from the parking area to get to this spot. The beauty of the lake was a timely diversion from the four walls of the hotel and the sterile environment of the county offices. The absence of trash was a welcome greeting to Phoenix, who was accustomed to seeing plastic six-pack binders and beer cans dotting the shoreline of his beloved Tybee Island.

"I am amazed at how clean it is," he said. "It is really beautiful out here."

Howard pointed at a wood stork standing on the edge of a marsh just off a small island. "The Friends of Lake Jackson do an excellent job keeping this place clean. In recent years it has gotten much better. This place used to get a lot of partiers who kept the place pretty trashed; once they got a handle on the access it was easier to control."

"I am just not used to seeing a fresh water lake this pristine," Phoenix replied.

"The lake is fed from a series of underground water sources which help keep the water relatively clean. It is very clear close to the sinkholes but, along some of the fringes and backwaters, it gets pretty thick where there is no flow."

"Underground rivers?" Geoff asked.

"Oh, yeah, this part of Florida is full of underground channels, caves and sinkholes. It is pretty common for a lake to drain literally overnight. That is exactly what happened two years ago. Lake Jackson drained out and exposed most of the lakebed.

"A hiker out walking the next day spotted the body just under the water level at a big sinkhole. The skeleton was wrapped in chain and hanging onto the edge of the hole. The only thing we could figure is someone brought a boat out here thinking they were dumping the body in the sink hole, but it got caught on a stump on the way down."

"And you never identified the body?" Phoenix asked.

"Nope."

Geoff was walking around the sand, occasionally stooping over to pick at a rock or a tree limb or to check out some species of insect he'd never seen before. He watched a soft-shelled turtle flapping along the dry sand.

"Are you getting anything?" Phoenix asked.

"Sunburned and a bloody headache, but that's about it. I was not very hopeful about this anyway. The energy just seemed all wrong from the time we left the car."

"Well, it was worth a try," Howard said.

"It's unfortunate that you never ID'd the girl. It could go a long way towards finding out who put her there," Phoenix said, as he looked off into the distance, his eyes fixed on a predatory bird swooping down to the sandy shoreline to trap some small varmint for lunch.

They were walking back to the car when Phoenix turned to Howard and asked, "So, what are your thoughts about the gun turning up in Deputy Brown's car? Are you buying it?"

Howard shrugged. "It's not a matter of me buying it, Phee. Doug found the gun in the car; regardless of where the information came from, we have to start there." The Sheriff detained Deputy Brown earlier in the morning, immediately upon finding the missing firearm under the patrol car's front seat.

Phoenix stopped and looked back at the lake and said, "I'd stake my reputation on the fact that someone is trying to set up J.C. Brown. Of all the people I have met down here, including you, he is the most unlikely killer."

Howard laughed. "I only kill golf balls on Saturday afternoons. Speaking of which, we should get in a game while you are here."

"I gave up golf about the same time I gave up drinking. They sort of went together like tall grass and lawn mowers, and I haven't felt the need to cut grass lately."

* * * * *

Phoenix dropped Geoff off at the hotel with instructions to get some rest before the evening's activities. He and Howard continued on to the Sheriff's office to join Doug Clayton at J.C. Brown's interrogation.

They parked out front and took the short walk into the basement of the Sheriff's building. On their way to the interrogation rooms, they passed the entrance to the health center where Phoenix took note of the sign, stopped, and said, "You go on and I'll catch up with you. There is something I want to look at."

"Okay, I'll see you there shortly," Howard replied.

Phoenix walked back and opened the door to the health center. He surveyed the room before strolling up to the counter and where he was greeted by a young blond with the face of an angel and the tight, muscular body of a gymnast.

"May I help you?" she asked.

He glanced at her name-badge and said, "I hope so, Tina. My name's Phoenix Worthy, and – "

She immediately interrupted, "You're the ghost hunter. Oh, my God! I was hoping to get to talk to you."

"Yes, I am. I was wondering if –"

"You should come out to our house. My daddy, God rest his soul, comes to visit us all the time."

"Well, maybe when we are done –"

"He has been dead for almost five years now and –"

"Tina, I need you to focus just a minute." He put his index finger to his lips and stopped the young attendant. "I'll be happy to discuss your daddy's ghost another time, but right now I need to talk to you about last year when Deputy Brown's gun was stolen from his locker."

She listened intently and considered his request. "I remember when that happened. The Sheriff tore this place apart. I think they questioned everyone who had signed in at the same time J.C. was here, but nothing ever came of it."

"Could I get a look at the sign-in sheet for that day?"

She smiled. "Sure, let me go get it. I'm positive the Sheriff got a copy for his file, but the original should be here."

She walked into the back office, leaving Phoenix to stand there and watch the mix of deputies, detectives and office workers using the treadmills and weight machines scattered about the open room. He recognized Donna Ingram working on a step machine. Small white wires dangled from her ears and joined together at an iPod strapped to her right arm. She glanced over and saw him standing out front. She stepped off the machine, grabbed her towel, and walked over to where he stood.

After wiping the sweat from her hands, she reached out. "Hi, Phoenix! What brings you down here?"

He took her hand and acknowledged, "Miss Ingram."

"You can call me Donna." She smiled at the ghost hunter.

Remembering Echo's contention that Donna Ingram might have more than a professional interest, he pulled his hand away quickly and said, "I just came in to look for some paperwork from the day Deputy Brown's gun was stolen."

"Oh, I remember that very well. I was in here with the District Attorney and a few others. Doug Clayton was really, really pissed. I think if the D.A. hadn't been here, he would have searched everybody's cars and offices."

She leaned over and whispered, "But being the Sheriff, he sometimes has to think about what is best, politically."

"I understand politics, sometimes. It's not always the best course of action though."

"No, it is not," she replied. Donna worked up the courage and asked, "So Phoenix, would you be free to join me for dinner one night before you go back to Savannah?"

"Actually, that would be... awkward with my friend, Annie Kai, in town."

Donna felt a slight sting of rejection and replied simply, "Oh, I see. That is unfortunate. I was hoping to get to know you better."

Tina returned from the back office, rescuing Dr. Worthy from the uncomfortable exchange with Donna Ingram. "Here you go," she said. "I made a copy of all the sheets from that day."

"Thank you," he said, taking the paper and scanning the contents. His eyes locked on one particular name. He glanced back at Donna and said, "I have to go catch up with Howard. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

# Chapter 19 - Quizzing J.C.

Phoenix left the health center and walked down the hall to where a uniformed officer sat at the desk leading into the interrogation area. He was concentrating on a thick book, barely aware of Phoenix's presence.

Dr. Worthy cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me."

The officer looked up. "You must be the ghost hunter. Mr. Wallace said you'd be coming down this way." He pointed down the hall. "He is in the observation room – third door on your right. Be careful; it will be kind of dark when you go in.

"Thanks," he said and continued down the hall. He reached the third door and went right in. Howard stood by a glass observation window looking into another room. Sheriff Clayton and J.C. Brown sat across from each other. Phoenix was surprised to see Dennis Sessions sitting beside the deputy.

"What is he doing here?" Phoenix said pointing to the attorney.

"Even you should know everyone has a right to council during interrogation. From what I understand, he and J.C. are good friends and he called to offer his services."

"I just bet he did," Phoenix said. "Here take a look at this." He handed the paper from the health center to his friend.

"What is this?"

"This is the sign-in sheet from the day J.C.'s firearm turned up missing. One name immediately jumped out at me."

Howard scanned the sheet and stopped at mid page. "Sessions?"

"Dennis Sessions."

"I am not convinced it really means anything. Look, Donna Ingram and the District Attorney's names are there too."

"Yeah, but none of those people have the personality of this guy. If I were to pick a serial killer from this list, Sessions would be my choice."

"You don't think that's a bit of a stretch?"

"Maybe, but I don't want to stake your career on my hunch. I will figure out a way to test my theory."

Phoenix turned his attention back to the glass. "Why aren't we hearing them?"

"Oh, sorry," Howard said and reached down to turn on the audio.

"... Doug, I don't know what else I can tell you to make you believe me. I was nowhere near the McKenzie house the night Worthy was shot. And I am telling you, someone put the gun in my patrol car to frame me. I had no idea it was there."

"And who would do that, J.C., huh? Tell me, who do you think wants to frame you, and more importantly, why?"

"Sheriff Clayton," Dennis Sessions interceded, "I know you have no evidence that my client was anywhere near Cardinal Court on the night in question. The theft of the gun last year is a matter of public record. Your records, I might add. The fact that it showed up on the basis of an anonymous tip is very suspect. Either charge my client with a crime or end this thing right now."

The Sheriff looked at the mirror separating the interrogation room from the observation area. His eyes seemed to speak to the prosecutor.

Howard tugged on Phoenix's arm and said, "Let's get in there."

Phoenix followed behind his friend as they stepped down the hall and into the room where Sheriff Clayton sat questioning his deputy.

Dennis Sessions pointed at Phoenix and asked, "What is he doing here? Since this case is partly about him and the shooting, it is highly inappropriate for him to be anywhere near this interrogation."

Howard responded, "As you have pointed out, J.C. has not been charged with a crime, so as far as I can tell right now, we are just one big happy family, trying to get to the bottom of a very ugly situation."

Phoenix stood there silently sizing up the Sessions. After their last meeting he walked away with a very uneasy feeling about the crass attorney, so much so that he called his nephew and asked him to do a thorough background check. He made a mental note: Call Jason after this meeting and see what he has been able to come up with.

Phoenix, wanting to gauge the lawyer's response, quickly threw out, "You get out on Lake Jackson much, Mr. Sessions?"

"Excuse me?"

"The lake, you know, Lake Jackson, a few miles north of here. Nice place – very scenic, kind of remote. A good place to ditch a body, if someone had to do such a thing."

The cold stare of the defense attorney could be taken many ways, but to the mind of a forensic psychologist, his reaction to the question spoke volumes. The Sheriff and Howard seemed oblivious to the unspoken transaction occurring between the ghost hunter and the defense attorney. J.C. sat in silence trying to understand the shift of topic and the focus of the questioning.

"I've been to the lake many times, Doctor Worthy. The fishing is absolutely fabulous. Perhaps you'd like to go with me sometime. I know where all the best spots are."

Sessions turned his attention back to Doug Clayton, "Now, if we are done, my client would like to get out of here, and I have to be in court at two."

Howard looked over at his friend and probed, "Phoenix, are you going anywhere with this?"

"Nope," he replied. "I was just interested in the lake, nothing more."

"Sheriff, I don't see any reason to detain Deputy Brown and his counsel any longer." Howard directed instructions to both of them, "But don't leave town without checking in with my office. This is still an active investigation."

The deputy and his lawyer left the room leaving the Sheriff alone with Howard and Phoenix. As soon as the door closed he asked, "Would somebody please tell me what is going on?"

Howard explained, "Phoenix somehow got it in his head that Dennis is now a suspect in these murders, because he was in the health center last year when J.C's weapon was stolen."

The Sheriff looked at Phoenix and said, "I remember that. I talked to him myself during the investigation. He denied any involvement and I had no reason to doubt him."

"Did you do a search of his car or office?"

"Nope. We didn't have probable cause and, if we did, we would have had to search everybody, including the D.A. and half her staff. I was not willing to ruffle those feathers and spend that kind of political power. It might have been better if I did, but, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty."

The Sheriff continued with an uncertain tone, "I'm not really buying it. What would be his motive? I've seen no evidence to implicate Sessions in any of this. As a matter of fact, wasn't he McKenzie's defense attorney?"

"Puts him in a perfect position to see that someone else gets convicted of the crime, doesn't it?" Phoenix responded.

"The evidence at the scene overwhelming pointed to the husband as the killer, so we never really considered anybody else."

"Isn't that a shame," Phoenix noted.

Sheriff Clayton started to say something he knew he would regret later, so he simply replied, "Yes, isn't it."

Howard pointed out, "Doug, if there is the slightest chance Phoenix is right and Sessions is the killer, we need to figure out how to prove it. Hunches don't count."

Phoenix paused for a moment before confessing, "I asked someone to look into his past. There was something about our first meeting that just didn't sit right and I wanted to check him out. I'll call and see if he was able to find anything." He tried dialing Jason's cell phone without success.

"I'm going to have to walk outside. There is no signal down here."

"Meet me back in my office when you are done," Howard said. "I have to make a few phone calls to follow up with a couple of other cases."

Phoenix walked out the side entrance and dialed his nephew. He was listening to the ring at the other end when the roar of a small foreign car got his attention. It sounded exactly like the car he remembered pulling away from Cardinal Court on the night he was shot.

He watched the small car drive past and locked eyes with Dennis Sessions leaving the courthouse. The blue Mazda was sounding a powerful whine as it left the parking area. He checked his watch to note the time was just past two.

Jason's voice mail message pulled him back to the business at hand. "You've reached Jason's voice mail, which means I'm not here, or I don't want to talk to you. Leave me a message and I may return the call."

He still chuckled every time he heard his nephew's recording. At the sound of the beep, he said, "It's your uncle; call me when you get this."

He closed the phone and started thinking about Dennis and his reaction earlier in the interrogation room. Then he remembered... He said he had to be in court at two!

Nearly running down one of the young clerks, Phoenix ran up the stairwell to the second floor where he found Howard sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He paced nervously in front of his desk and kept lifting his wrist to look at his watch.

Howard continued the conversation. "The Grand Jury will convene on the sixth and everything is ready for the prosecution." He lifted a finger to let Phoenix know he was close to finishing the call. "Thanks, Danny boy, I'll owe you one. We'll resolve it on the golf course after the hearing. I'll talk to you later.

"Okay, Phee, what did you find out?"

"Oh, I didn't get a hold of Jason. I left him a message to call me. But get this... Session's car."

"The blue Mazda?"

"You've seen it?"

"Well, yeah, he's had it for a few years. He drives it pretty much everywhere. What about it?"

"It sounds exactly like the car that pulled away from the house after I got shot. I would recognize that high pitched whine anywhere."

"I bet it sounds pretty much like the whine of every Mazda, Toyota or any other Japanese sports car around town. I would guess there are probably more than ten thousand of those things when you factor in the college kids who drive them. So, unless you can say you saw Dennis Session's blue Mazda pull away from the house, it's pretty much meaningless."

Phoenix replied, "I see your point, but remember what he said about court? He was supposed to be in a courtroom at two. I just watched him drive away from the courthouse at five after."

Howard thought briefly before the realization sunk in. "He lied?"

"He lied!"

He quickly picked up the phone and dialed a four-digit extension. "Wanda, this is Howard Wallace... Yes I'm fine. Dennis Sessions was supposed to be in court at two; do you know which courtroom?"

He looked up at Phoenix and said, "She's going to find out."

After a few seconds, Howard said, "Really? Okay, thanks Wanda. Tell David hi for me. Goodbye."

"Well?"

"Judge Williams is fit to be tied. Sessions is supposed to be in court right now and his client is sitting down there waiting for him. The Judge is waiting for Sessions to show up so he can charge him with contempt. Williams is not a man you keep waiting."

"You go down there and talk to the Judge. Tell him Sessions is not going to be there. See if you can get him to issue a warrant on the contempt charge. I'm going to talk to the Sheriff."

"Oh, Doug called before you came up here. He is on his way to meet some detectives trying to wrap up a robbery scene. It seems a clerk got stabbed during a convenience store holdup. It was the son of a councilman and Doug felt a hands-on approach was in order. Considering how much he had done for the Department, I can't say that I blame him. I will have dispatch get him to call you."

"That will work."

# Chapter 20 - Where's Annie?

Phoenix walked down to the conference room for privacy as Howard took off to the courthouse. He sat at the table and keyed in the speed dial button for Annie.

She answered with a quick, "Hi, Phoenix. What's up?"

He loved hearing her voice. She had a gentle nature evident in the way she spoke; always very confident and self-assured, never loud and boisterous.

"Hi, Annie," he began, "I just wanted to let you know something has come up and I may be later tonight getting back to the hotel. We'll plan on getting something to eat before we go over to the McKenzie house."

"That sounds good, Phee. I'm starving."

"Let Geoff and Echo know, please."

"I will. See you in a little while."

"You can count on it."

After hanging up, he sat there thinking about her and how glad he was that she was there. He considered how very little that had to do with ghost hunting. He hoped he could talk her into returning with him to Savannah when they were done.

Moments later his cell phone rang. He had been expecting a call Sheriff Clayton, but he noted on the caller ID that it was his nephew returning the call.

He answered with a simple, "Jason."

"Uncle Phee?"

"Who else?"

"I looked into that guy for you. It seems all his credentials are in order. He has immaculate credit and has never been arrested or gone to jail, that I could find."

"Anything else?"

"There is one thing you might find interesting. He lived on the outskirts north of Cincinnati, a little place called Blue Ash, before moving his practice to Tallahassee. There are two unsolved murders on the books, very similar to what you described down there. It goes back to the period of time before he left."

"Yeah?"

"And one more thing," Jason added. "He was engaged to marry this woman from Cincinnati. She disappeared a few months after he left and has not been heard from since."

"Do you have her name?"

"Her name is Penelope Decker. I was able to get a copy of the Missing Person's case file from the Cinncy PD. It should be waiting for you in your e-mail."

"Great work, Jason. You'll make a fine detective someday."

He laughed. "I don't think they let guys with neck tattoos be detectives, Uncle Phee."

"They make good undercover detectives."

"Not in my lifetime."

"Thanks, Jay. See you in a few days. I'll let you know when we're on our way back. I'll be ready for a sail when I get home."

"The Ghost Worthy is ready to sail, sir. She misses her captain."

"I miss her, too." Phoenix ended the call and looked out the windows at the end of the conference room table. The sky was a brilliant blue without a hint of floating clouds. He pictured how Annie's hair would look, flowing behind her in the salt air breeze. He couldn't stop smiling.

* * * * *

Annie grabbed the small bucket sitting on the corner of the credenza and walked down to get ice from the machine. She never saw the movement as a man slipped up behind her and covered her face with a chloroform-drenched cloth. She struggled in his strong arms but was no match for the attacker and the chemical quickly robbing her of consciousness.

Dennis Sessions was frightfully aware that nabbing Worthy's girlfriend at their hotel was a risky move, but desperate men will do desperate things. He had to find out what the ghost hunter knew that had prompted the question about the lake. He assumed it was nothing more than a fishing expedition, but better to know for sure than get blindsided later. He smiled at the lovely woman, unconscious in his arms, thinking this experience could have interesting benefits. In the back of his mind he was already planning her death.

He peeked around the corner to see if anyone was hanging around that would see him dragging Annie to his car. Seeing no one, he supported her weight so from a distance it might appear he was helping a sick or drunk woman find her way to a ride.

Once seated in the tight confines of his sporty Mazda, he bound her feet and hands, and belted her to the passenger seat. He did not want her moving around should she wake up from her chemical-induced coma while he was driving to his special place, a place where he had taken young women over the years to tie them to the homemade altar and have his way with them without concern their screams would be heard by neighbors or other passersby. The old water plant sat empty in an abandoned industrial area at the south edge of town, a run-down testament to years of neglect and abandonment in an area where nobody would just drop by. Considering the contamination levels of the deserted plant violated every clean-up rule on the environmental books, nobody even wanted to go there.

The day Janet McKenzie's van suffered a flat tire just outside the gate, he had watched her from the confines of the barren chemical room with the blood of a young Mississippi runaway still wet and sticky on his fingers. Her lifeless body had lain in a pool of red not ten feet from where he stood and watched the attractive high school teacher change her tire. His head crooked to the side as he admired her shapely body. He knew her from the Friends of the Lake committee she chaired and for which he provided pro bono legal counsel. He hadn't wanted to kill her, but he could not take the chance she would mention she had seen his car parked at the old water plant.

He had put a plan into motion the next morning and took her life in a way that would ensure the authorities would pin it on her husband. As Chance McKenzie's court-appointed defense attorney, he could all but guarantee conviction.

He didn't want to kill Annie Kai any more than he'd wanted to kill the McKenzie woman, but he knew he had to. It was self-defense or self preservation. As he had told himself a dozen times in the past, just this one more time... just once more he would take a life to save his own.

* * * * *

Echo stepped out onto the second floor walkway in time to watch a pretty blue Mazda speed away from the parking lot. Damn, she thought, that sounds a lot like the car from the McKenzie house the other night.

She walked down and knocked on Annie's door. It opened slightly to her touch. "Annie?" she shouted.

Getting no reply, she poked her head in the door and, seeing no one, she walked in to check the bathroom. She noticed the missing ice bucket and figured she would wait for Annie to come back upstairs.

Five minutes later and still no Annie, she decided to look around the hotel. She walked into the foyer where the ice machine was located and noticed an ice bucket, full and still sitting in the machine. The ice cubes had barely begun to melt, indicating they had only been sitting there for a few minutes. She walked around the hotel property looking for Annie: the pool, the bar, and even the Dixie Diner, but she was nowhere to be found.

Echo walked back to Annie's room to make sure she had not returned during the search. Annie's cell phone and purse sat on side of the bed. Even worse, the GPS bracelet she should have been wearing sat on the table beside her laptop. Everything was wrong and Echo knew it.

She pulled her cell phone out and pushed the number to dial Phoenix. After the second ring, he picked up. "Hey Echo – what's up?"

"Is Annie with you?" she asked.

"No. I talked to her not more than a half hour ago. She was in her room."

"This is strange, Doc. I walked down to her room and the door was slightly open. I thought she might have gone down to get ice, but she never came back. The ice bucket was still in the machine. Her purse and cell phone are still sitting right here."

"Did you check the diner? She said she was hungry."

"I checked everywhere," she replied. "And to make matters worse, her GPS bracelet is right here by her bed."

"Damn," he said. "Check on Geoff. See if he's around and call me back."

"One more thing – when I walked out of the room, there was a car leaving the parking lot. It sounded exactly like the one we heard at the McKenzie house the other night."

"A dark blue Mazda?"

"Yeah," she said. "Is that bad?"

"It couldn't get much worse."

# Chapter 21 - Rude Awakening

Annie slowly began to come out of her chloroform-induced unconsciousness. Her eyes were heavy and the effects of the drug still clouded her awareness. She winced and wrinkled her forehead from the intense headache brought on by the sweet-smelling anesthetic; her mouth stung with a metallic taste lingering on her lips and tongue.

She began testing her arms and struggled in her bindings. Her feet were bound with leather straps pulling her feet towards each side of a cold metallic table; her wrists were bound together and tied somewhere above her head.

The pungent smells of old concrete, rusty steel, and industrial sulfur consumed the dimly lit room. Her clothes were damp with perspiration and the natural moisture permeating the room. She stopped moving and strained to listen for sounds of her captor. She heard the low breathing of someone standing near the table, out of sight and watching.

"You might as well stop all your wiggling right now, young lady," her captor instructed in a soft determined voice. "You'll just pull at your bindings and cut yourself. Go ahead and scream, if you'd like. Shout to your heart's content. Nobody ever comes down this way, especially after dark, and it will be dark very soon."

She searched her thoughts for what happened and how she got here. The very last thing she remembered was standing alone at the hotel ice machine, leaning over, filling her bucket with ice. She remembered the attack, a man's strong arms reaching around and placing a sweet-smelling rag across her mouth and nose as she struggled. Then waking up here, alone and bound by a man she hadn't seen. She asked, "Who are you?"

The voice replying from a dark shadow was unfamiliar; it was a voice of desperation and rage.

"Who am I?" Dennis replied with an indignant tone of disbelief. "What do you mean, who am I? You must know. Surely your ghost hunter boyfriend told you all about me."

She tried to see the face of her attacker, to gaze into his eyes and to understand the kind of man she was dealing with, but he stood along a back wall deep in the shadows hidden from her view. All she could see with any surety was the soft glow of the dim light streaming in from broken windows above. She heard the hollow echo of distant sounds bouncing off hard concrete walls in unseen corridors. She heard a constant drip of water leaking onto the dirty floor.

She continued to test her bindings and spoke to the man who held her. "From what I see you are just a desperate man in a desperate situation. If you let me go now, I can try to get you the help you need."

He swung a thick steel bar over his head and slammed it onto the top of the metal table in the exposed area between her legs. It crashed with a loud thunder, a cacophony of noise bounced through the empty rooms and narrow passageways. Her body flinched stiffly with the vibrations running through the hard table. Her ears began to ring from the crash brought on by the violent action of her kidnapper.

His face finally came into full view and he screamed, "No! Do not talk to me like I am stupid or crazy. You don't know me! You have no idea what I am capable of, what I can do to you, the pain I can make you feel. You just don't know."

He tossed the bar to the floor where it clanged on the concrete and rolled off into a corner. He circled the table, his fingers tracing her legs, touching the cloth of her pants barely able to separate his thick fingers from her bare skin. He stopped by her head, lowered his face and his voice and continued, "I know you're his woman. I saw the way you were looking at him, touching him – wanting him."

Her mind began surging with primal fear; adrenalin coursed through the blood in her veins. She reached deep inside and began to call on her native ancestors and spirit guides for strength of thought, to release her fears, to calm her body and to prepare her for death, should it come before the night ended.

She turned to face her captor again. She saw anger in his eyes, blazing with the hate of a madman who had stood on the precipice of insanity but did not know how to step back. She heard his heavy breathing mix with the continuous drip of water behind her. She studied his face and asked calmly, "What is your name?"

"Don't patronize me!" he shouted. "You know who I am."

"I'm sorry, I don't. I don't know you or why you are doing this to me. Please tell me." Annie had dealt with men like this before; men who wanted to control, to smother, to impress their wills against weak women unable to sustain or stand up for themselves. These women, who had never garnered strength from ingrained character and self confidence, were victims. She was not one of them.

He circled the table again; the sound of his shoes meeting the damp concrete floor tapped against the hard walls and seconds later, walked back to where her hands were bound to the table. He leaned over slightly to look into her eyes, reached under the table, and pulled out a long, silver hunting knife much like the one he used to kill Janet McKenzie. He pressed the cold steel blade against her arm and raked it along her soft skin.

"You will know me before the night is over. You will scream my name and beg for your life."

Annie drew on her education and life experiences to understand the man who held her against her will. She took a quick inventory of her captor and processed the data like a scientist in the midst of some experiment. She noted that his casual clothing did not match his rough behavior. The inflection of his voice and the look in his eyes told her that, although he was extremely volatile, he didn't want to hurt her. If she could play his game long enough, it might give Phoenix and the team time enough to find her. She narrowed her eyes, looked over at her captor and begged, "Please don't hurt me."

He smiled like a young boy who had just won a game of checkers against his best friend. It was winning the small battles in life that he enjoyed the best; that gave him the most satisfaction. When his earlier victims would give into their fears, scream, beg for their lives, he felt the most in control, the most in charge and completely superior. He backed away from the table and leaned against the hard wall.

"There you go," he said. "That is what I like – the crying, the begging, and in the end, pleading for death to come swiftly."

He paused briefly, leaned into the table beside her and looked up to her face. "But not you, you are too grounded, too connected to your past, your tribe.

"Yeah, I heard your silly Indian chant at the house the other night, smelled the burning sage, and watched you float about the room like some kind of holy Indian woman." He smiled and continued to rake the steel blade along her cold skin. "You'll sing it for me later, won't you?"

His face was close enough for her to smell his breath and the slight alcohol scent of his aftershave. She felt the stubble of an afternoon shadow when he put his face against hers. She knew her best chance was to play along as best she could, and hope Phoenix would find her before her captor took her life.

"Yes, I'll sing it for you."

* * * * *

Phoenix and the PRI team followed Sheriff Clayton down the long, well lit corridor on the first floor of the Law Enforcement Center. Row after row of fluorescents cast a harsh light along the hallway in front of them. Pictures of deputies and various service awards and plaques lined the walls along the way.

The Sheriff made a quick turn to his left and walked through a set of double doors leading into the squad room, already filled with uniformed deputies, plain-clothed detectives, and anyone else hastily recruited for the search. At least two-dozen patrol officers were seated in the rows of chairs where they usually sat before each shift, getting the orders of the day, the recent crimes and the criminals they were after during the course of their shift.

Phoenix and crew stood to the left of the door and leaned back against the wall. The ghost hunter surveyed the room, searching the eyes of the younger deputies and the interest of the older, more experienced officers. Echo walked back and forth between the rows of chairs handing each officer a photograph of Annie, so they would know who they were looking for.

Sheriff Clayton addressed the group. "Listen up, folks; here's what we know. At approximately 3:45 this afternoon, Annie Kai, the woman in the photograph being handed out, disappeared from the Interstate Inn. There is no physical evidence of an attack or abduction, but shortly after she went missing, a dark blue Mazda, possibly belonging to Dennis Sessions, a local defense attorney most of you know, was seen leaving the property. The witness could not tell if anyone other than a driver was in the vehicle."

One of the younger deputies raised his hand and asked, "Sheriff, I'm not sure I understand. Are you saying there is or is not evidence Dennis Sessions abducted this woman?"

"Let me answer that," Phoenix interrupted. "Gentleman, some of you know who I am and what I am doing in Tallahassee. If you don't, I'm sure one of your buddies will clue you in after you leave this room.

"We don't have much time, so I'll make this quick. One of my investigators has uncovered strong circumstantial evidence implicating Dennis Sessions in the disappearance of another young woman. This information has been passed on to county detectives for follow up.

"There is no hard evidence that he kidnapped Ms. Kai. We don't know for sure that he did. The fact remains one of my associates saw his blue Mazda leaving the hotel around the same time Doctor Kai disappeared."

Phoenix continued, "Judge Williams issued a warrant for his arrest for contempt of court. For your purpose, that is why you are searching for him – to pick him up on that warrant. Do whatever you have to do to find this guy and bring him in. A woman's life may hang in the balance."

Sheriff Clayton pinned a map of the county to the wall at the front of the squad room. He took a second to study the map and with broad, rapid strokes using a red marker began to strike through large areas of the map. His knowledge of the county helped him carve down the search areas into something manageable.

"We have to assume the suspect will avoid areas of highest concentrations of people: shopping centers, hotels and restaurants, main highways and airports, or any other high traffic areas. We can eliminate those places from the initial search and focus on remote places where it would be a lot easier to hole up with a prisoner – most likely someplace rural; a structure like an old farm or lake house; or deserted building somewhere. Let's just hope he hasn't left the county.

"I've asked the helicopter service to help, but probably it won't do us much good at night. You'll have to do it the old fashioned way: go over every back road and chicken house outside these red boxes. Find that son of a bitch, and fast!"

"Come on, Sheriff, this is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack," one of the deputies responded.

The Sheriff shouted, "Well, maybe, but think of it as my needle and I want it back, now get your asses on the street. See your sergeants for search assignments."

Phoenix watched the small herd of patrol officers hit the doors, talking amongst themselves. The look on their faces indicated little confidence in finding Dennis Sessions, much less Annie Kai. The needle was small and the county was a mighty big haystack.

"Phoenix," Sheriff Clayton put his hands on his shoulder and continued, "I don't want to get your hopes up. This is a lot of territory to cover, it's after dark, and we don't have enough men available to thoroughly turn over the county. But we will do everything we can.

"Oh, and before I forget about it, I'm having forensics look into that missing woman from Cincinnati. They are going to call me as soon as they know something."

Howard and the PRI team watched the Sheriff leave the room and join the search. Everyone remaining turned back to Phoenix, looking for some encouragement. It was a commodity he typically provided in spades, but this time encouragement was not forthcoming. He walked over to the window and stared off into the distance, his analytical mind kicking into gear, evaluating options, running search scenarios and looking for the solution with the greatest chance of success.

Echo walked up behind him and asked, "What do you want us to do, Doc?"

Phoenix didn't immediately reply; he stared out the window, like he was counting on x-ray vision to find Annie, scouring the distance with his focused stare. He was thinking, studying, analyzing, and looking for any course of action which might bring them closer to finding her. One particular vision kept coming back with crystal clarity – the image of Geoff kissing Annie.

He turned around and shook a questioning finger at Geoff. "Do you think you could make contact with Chance?"

Geoff's eyes lit up with the quick understanding of what the doctor might be considering. "Aye, I might very well be able to do that. If we can figure out where he is, I'm sure of it."

"Echo, grab the laptop and cameras; we are headed back to McKenzie place."

Phoenix dug around in his pocket for the card given to him earlier in the week by Deputy Brown and dialed the number on his cell phone. As soon as the call connected, he said, "J.C., this is Phoenix Worthy. Can you meet us at the McKenzie house in a half hour? Hopefully, we may need your knowledge of the county."

He paused and listened intently to the reply before continuing, "I know you are suspended. Put it out of your mind, because this is not an official request. This is between you and me."

He ended the call with, "Thanks, J.C.; I'll see you there."

He returned the phone to its clip and looked back at the team. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Everyone seemed to move at once and followed out the door behind Phoenix.

# Chapter 22 - Annie's Fears

"Did you kill Janet McKenzie?"

Sessions seemed startled by the directness of her question. His eyes narrowed and his breathing practically stopped. He had managed to keep his killing of over a dozen women across four states a secret for over twenty years. The faces of each and every woman who had died by his hand were chiseled into his memory, much like their names on slabs of marble above where they lay today. And now this stranger, this beautiful woman, asked the question as carefree as she might ask the time of day. She would be his latest victim by the end of the night, so the things he confessed until then did not matter. It would be good to talk about it.

"Yes," he replied. "I did."

The horrific secret left his lips as easily as sharing a piece of juicy gossip with an anxious neighbor or disclosing his sins to a priest. The revelation of murder felt right; it felt cleansing and it felt good – real good.

He studied her face, looking for reaction, looking for fear or contempt, but what he saw was compassion and sadness. Her dark eyes were fixed on his and he asked, "What's wrong, did you think I would lie?"

"No, I didn't," she replied. "I already knew the answer from my connection with Janet."

"What do you mean?"

"Janet McKenzie joined with me the night you shot at Phoenix."

He interrupted, "Now how did you know that was me?"

"I didn't," she said. "But it was the only thing that made sense."

"Go on. What do you mean, 'you joined with'?"

"Her spirit joined with mine at a conscious level. We became one for a few brief moments and met with Chance."

Dennis chuckled. "You new age bitches are all alike. I don't believe in your hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo for one minute."

"Your non-belief doesn't make it any less true," she continued. "It takes years of experience and a completely open mind. The things I felt from her, the pain and suffering you brought to her and her family, are something a man like you could never understand."

"Oh, and who are you to judge what I can or cannot understand? You don't know the things I have felt, the misery that made me into the person I am, the controlling mother and the alcoholic father, the beatings from them both. You don't have a clue."

Annie lied. "I do. I understand. My family was exactly the same way."

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes. My father would come home drunk and the kids would look to see which way to run, because they didn't know how he would act, who he would hit, or where he would end up sleeping for the night."

"Liar!" he shouted. "We knew exactly where the drunk was headed and what he was going to be like. He was exactly the same way every single day, so don't try to tell me you are anything like me! You are nothing like me!"

She studied her captor, wondering how long she could engage him in conversation, how long would he postpone the inner rage propelling him towards murder one more time. How long?

* * * * *

J.C. Brown, wearing blue jeans and a Marlins jersey, arrived shortly before the PRI team. He was leaning back against his car when Phoenix's truck pulled onto the concrete driveway at the McKenzie place. The interior of the house was dark and the neighborhood seemed unusually quiet.

J.C. walked over to meet the ghost hunter as he opened the door of his truck. Echo was exiting the passenger side, followed by Geoff and Howard.

"What is this all about?" asked the deputy.

"You heard about Dennis Sessions?" Phoenix asked.

"Yeah, Doug called. I wanted to help with the search, but he told me to stay out of it."

Echo and Geoff went straight to the front door with Howard close behind. Before following them into the house, the attorney turned and shouted, "Are you coming?"

"Give me a second," Phoenix replied. "I need a minute with J.C. before we come in."

The deputy watched them enter the house and then turned his attention back to the ghost hunter. "What are you doing here? Better yet, what am I doing here?"

"You know this county. If we can find out where Annie is, we may have to depend on you to get us there."

"Considering what I know about what you and your associates are doing in Tallahassee, I am afraid to ask how you might find out."

Phoenix smiled. "I'm hoping to find out from your old friend, Chance McKenzie."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

Phoenix turned and headed down the walkway leading into the McKenzie home. Deputy Brown took a big swallow, trying desperately to quiet his nerves. With curiosity overwhelming fear, he followed the ghost hunter and walked in the door behind him.

Echo was reaching into the box which included the EEG gear. Phoenix interrupted, "Don't worry about the EEG, Eck. We may have to go mobile in a hurry; setup audio, video and environ-mental only."

"But Phoenix, you've always said no shortcuts."

"I know what I said," he reacted with a sharp tone indicating his aggravation. "This is not about the ghost hunt. This is about finding Annie. We've already found the ghosts."

Having learned which battles to fight with her teacher, she immediately gave up the argument and dropped the EEG leads back into the box. She returned to the work table where the rest of the gear was set up and sat down in front of the laptop and the A/V control console. Howard sat to her right and kept out of the way. Geoff was seated in the same chair, in the same spot, where he had his first encounter with Chance.

J.C. spoke up from the back of the room, "Where do you want me?"

"Stand by the door and watch. Don't do anything; don't say anything, no matter what you see; do not, under any circumstances, move." Phoenix slid into the empty chair at the monitor to Echo's left and put on a headset.

"Geoff, can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, mate," he replied. "Let's get on with it."

"Howard, I want you to monitor the environmentals. Give me a heads up if the temperatures change," Phoenix continued.

Howard gave Echo a knowing wink. "Your girl showed me all about it the other night. I've got this."

"All right then, we've been here before." Phoenix gave a thumb-up to his British protégé'. "Geoff, this is your show. Without the EEG we won't be able to monitor your vitals but, since there didn't seem to be any danger with Chance's total possession before, I'm guessing you will be fine."

Geoff returned an anxious smile. "Your guesses are usually spot on, so I'll take your word for it." He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and began the critical process of calming his mind and body to another level of consciousness.

Echo reached up to the control console and turned off Geoff's audio feed. She looked over at Phoenix and pointed out, "You know without the EEG we won't really know when he reaches full trance state."

Phoenix smiled. "Of course, we will. Chance McKenzie will tell us."

"Exactly how do you think Chance is going to help us find Annie?" she asked.

"Chance probably can't," he replied. "But his wife can. I am hoping there is enough residual connection between Janet and Annie that she will be able to reconnect and tell us where she is or at least lead us there."

Echo grinned with a new insight. "Kind of like a ghostly GPS?"

"Something along those lines," Phoenix replied.

Howard spoke quietly into his headset. "Look at this. The temperature is starting to drop."

Phoenix peered over at the screen displaying the array of environmental gauges. The digital numbers on the temperature meter clicked slowly downward; 68...67...66...65... He lifted his head and studied Geoff's face, looking for any change of emotion or features.

Within seconds, Geoff's eyes flew open like a camera shutter and he began slowly scanning the room. His head stopped briefly and his eyes focused momentarily on each person there, as if he were looking for someone in particular. He squinted to see the man standing by the door. "J.C., is that you?"

His distinctly British accent had again been replaced with the voice of the blue collar worker who got a raw deal and a knife in the gut because of it. The deputy was stunned by the voice of his old friend coming from the mouth of this stranger.

"Uh," he replied with apprehension. "Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

The startled deputy stumbled over his reply. "Uh... I'm not really sure."

Phoenix took over the conversation. "Chance, we need your help. More specifically, we need Janet's help. Do you know where she is?" he asked.

"She is here," was the reply.

Phoenix continued, "We need her to try to reconnect with Annie again. We think she has been taken by the man who killed your wife, and it could be that Janet is our only hope of finding her."

"Phoenix," Echo tugged on his sleeve. "Do you see that?" She pointed her finger at the hallway coming out of the kitchen. A smoky gray mist slowly floated into the room and began to envelop Geoff where he sat. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if he were trying to draw the strange vapors directly into his body.

A few seconds later, the mist quickly dissipated, leaving Geoff sitting there in silent contemplation. His eyes fluttered briefly before slowly opening. "Janet feels a connection to Miss Kai's life spirit and has gone to find where she is. It is a very weak bond, so she probably is not so close."

"Will Janet be able to tell us when she finds her?" asked Phoenix, a frantic concern in his voice.

"If she knows, she will come back and tell me, and then I can help you find her."

Geoff turned his head towards Howard and continued. "Mr. Wallace, I am surprised to see you here. You never believed me before."

Howard chose his words carefully and replied, "Chance, you must know I was doing my job at the direction of the D.A. I knew the evidence was pretty weak, but we didn't have any other suspects. I'm sorry it turned out this way."

"So am I," he replied in a somewhat harsh tone. "So am I." Geoff slowly stood up and began to walk towards the table where the ghost hunting team sat. He stopped in front of Phoenix and in a soft voice said, "You mentioned your friend was taken by the man who killed my wife. What's his name?"

"There is no direct physical evidence at this point," Phoenix said. "But there are some circumstances pointing to your attorney, Dennis Sessions."

Geoff slammed his fist down on the table with such force the equipment bounced up and down eliciting an excited, "Hey, watch it!" from Echo. "These are delicate instruments!"

He continued, "That son-of-a-bitch, I always thought he was sabotaging my defense, but nobody believed me, including your office," He shook an angry finger at the prosecutor. "What do you think now?"

Howard bowed his head slightly and replied, "You were right and we were wrong."

"You're damned right you were wrong, and I am dead because of it."

"Geoff... er... Chance." Phoenix interrupted. "What happened then is not important now. We can't change what happened, but maybe we can stop Sessions from killing someone else and make sure he gets brought to justice."

Geoff grimaced with the anger of a madman. "There is going to be justice all right."

# Chapter 23 - A Ghost of a Chance

Annie closed her eyes and meditated, praying to her native ancestors for strength and vision. She prayed for language she could use to talk to her captor, convince him to do the right thing and release her. She prayed for her guides to be with her should the night end with a march across the spiritual path of the world of the dead to the sacred lands of her forefathers,.

Her eyes flew open quickly as she became keenly aware of a new presence in the room. She turned her head and studied the outline of Dennis Sessions against the distant window on the opposite wall. She turned her head the other way and smiled at the spirit of Janet McKenzie standing at her side.

Their thoughts began to merge as Annie began opening the doorway to her soul, allowing Janet to join with her inner spirits. What are you doing here? Annie thought.

Chance is still with your friend, Geoff. They asked me to see if I could find you. It wasn't difficult at all. Your astral beacon shines like a bright star.

Annie turned back to look at Dennis again. He was leaning against the window. Light from the street outside silhouetted his frame against the glazed glass. The whites of his eyes shimmered like two tiny flashlights in the circle of his face.

"What are you looking at?" he shouted.

"I hope I am looking at a compassionate man," she replied.

Compassion is not in his character, Janet injected.

I'm afraid you are right, and I will be joining you in your world by the morning.

Let's hope not. I've told Chance where to find you. Help should be here soon.

* * * * *

The nervous deputy backed slowly away as Geoff approached him at his station by the front door. "Come on, J.C., you've known me all my life. Don't back away from me, you old scaredy cat."

"You know I've never been afraid of you, but then you've never been this dead either."

Geoff reached out his hand. J.C. reached back reluctantly and shook it with a firm grip. "I miss you, my friend," Geoff said before turning to Phoenix and adding, "I know where Miss Kai is."

Phoenix quickly leapt to his feet and joined the two men at the door. He grabbed Geoff by the arm and spun him about to face him. "Where is she?" he screamed.

"He is holding her at the old water plant off Butler Road. We need to hurry; Sessions is pretty unstable."

J.C. thought for a second before speaking. "It has been awhile since I have been out there, but I know where it is. Can you lead us to where she is, once we get there?"

"I can," Geoff quickly answered.

"Phoenix, you and Chance... er, Geoff, ride with me. Damn, that is so confusing!" J.C. shot a quick glance at Howard and continued. "You and the girl can follow behind. I don't want to spook him when we get there, so we'll park at the front gate and walk in."

"How long will it take us to get there?" Phoenix asked.

"Twenty minutes."

* * * * *

Dennis kept his eyes on the beautiful woman tied to the metal table. He studied her almond color, her long straight hair, her high cheekbones and soft skin. He was thinking how the women he killed, except for the McKenzie woman, had cried and screamed and begged for their lives. The screams were like music. It gave flavor to the horror of murder much like salt to a baked potato. But here was this woman, this spiritual princess, laying there like an unsalted meal offering no passion for life, no fear of death, no sound of desperation. He did not want to kill her, but he knew he would, and soon.

"Why are you so calm?" he asked. "You know I am going to kill you. I'm going to carve you up like a rack of lamb, and yet you lay there quiet. Why is that?"

"Whether I howl like a damaged wolf or keep silent like a sleeping baby, it doesn't matter. Either way you are going to kill me, so I'd rather die in peace than to give you what you seek."

Dennis banged the back of the knife on the table, the echo of the crash bellowed through the dank rooms of the Butler Road Station. Annie winced as the noise rang loudly in her ears. "Tell me something Miss Kai," he said, leaning over the table and placing his lips by her ears. "What did Doctor Worthy tell you about me? He's a lot smarter than that stupid Howard Wallace, you know."

She turned her face away from where he stood, so she didn't have to look at him and smell his breath, rank with the sick odor of garlic and onion. He reached out his hand and grabbed her chin between his fingers, curling her mouth up in a tight pucker, and pulled her face back around. He looked straight into her eyes. "Tell me!"

Annie shook her face out of his grip. "I've never heard anything about you from anybody. That is the truth. Now if you are going to kill me, go ahead and get it done. If not, just leave me the hell alone!"

He drew back and raked the gleaming edge of the knife's blade against her throat, leaving a slight cut on her neck. A trickle of blood oozed from the wound and a few drops began to form a tiny puddle on the table.

Hang in there, girl, she heard Janet whisper in her thoughts. Help is on the way. They should be here in a few minutes. Don't antagonize him.

"Look at that, Miss Kai. You bleed red just like everyone else." He began slowly circling the table, dragging the point of the sharp blade along the metal as he walked. The sound of the loud screech from the tip of the blade against the cold steel table was deafening.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "You must know, sooner or later, they will catch you and send you to prison, or worse."

"Yes, I know," he said. "So killing you doesn't change a thing, now does it? It is like killing you is a freebie."

"Maybe," she said after a short pause. "Maybe not killing me would buy you some good will with the prosecutor and the D.A." She watched him from the corner of her eyes, hoping to see a reaction, a glimmer of compassion in his eyes, to give her the slightest hope of survival. "I could help you. I could tell them you didn't hurt me and that you were sick and needed help!"

"I'm not sick!" he screamed. "I'm not – "

He stopped and listened intently, his hand cupping his right ear. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything."

He bolted the short distance to the window and looked out onto the courtyard below. Narrow beams from small flashlights shined out in front of a half-dozen people walking cautiously along the gravel road leading towards the entrance to the plant. It was too dark to recognize anybody. "Damn," he said in a low voice. "How'd they find me so fast?"

He quickly darted to the table and feverishly pulled at Annie's bindings. "I am going to cut you loose now and, if you scream, I will slice your throat like a watermelon; do you hear me?"

Annie slowly nodded her head in acknowledgment. He unshackled each foot before moving up the table towards her head. A quick tug on the bonds released her completely and he pulled her off the table by her arm. She fell hard to the damp cement floor with a muffled thud.

"Stand up!" he said firmly.

Just do what he says and don't say anything, Janet whispered again. Chance will lead them to us. He's close. I can feel his presence.

# Chapter 24 - Reunion and Redemption

The abandoned Butler Road Water Station sat like a ghost town on four hundred acres of county property in the old industrial park three miles south of the city limits. Tall, rusty chemical tanks stood like giants overlooking the gravel entrance to the old plant. Shadows cast by the bright light of the full moon extended across the narrow entrance road.

The sound of gravel, crunching beneath their footsteps, echoed softly off the brick walls of the main building. Geoff led the group down the roadway followed closely by Phoenix, Deputy Brown, and Howard Wallace. Echo brought up the rear, holding her video camera in front to document the group's advance towards the water plant. Beams from their flashlights waved back and forth across the path, lighting their way.

"Stop for a second, Geoff," Phoenix said softly.

"What's wrong?" he replied.

"I am trying to listen to see if we can hear anything."

Geoff pointed to the two-story brick building around to the right. "They are in there," he said, "in a room on the second level."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

J.C. stood just behind Phoenix with his pistol drawn at the ready. Phoenix turned his head back to the deputy and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think we should get in there and check it out. If he is in there, it's just him and Miss Kai. Maybe I can take him out before he hurts her."

"I agree."

He motioned back to Echo and whispered, "Eck, I want you and Howard to bring up the rear. Keep the video camera rolling. Whatever happens in there, we should have on tape."

Echo replied, "Phee, have you forgotten this guy probably has a gun?"

"No, but it's a chance we have to take. Maybe we can surprise him."

Geoff spoke up. "He already knows we are coming. We have to go in now. He is bringing Annie down to his car. We will find it just around the corner, pulled into the building."

J.C. grabbed Phoenix by the arm and stopped him. "Let me lead."

Deputy Brown moved slowly toward the corner of the building with Geoff and Phoenix close behind. A bright beam of light streamed in front of the team from the video camera held high above Echo's head. J.C. reached the corner and stopped, making sure everyone was safely in position before peeking around the corner.

"What do you see?" Phoenix asked.

He could see a blue Mazda parked under a distant awning, making excellent cover from prying helicopter eyes. Just as he was about to answer, he watched the door open at the entrance to the two-story building. In the bright light of the full moon, he could make out Dennis Sessions leading Annie out of the building and walking to his car.

Without hesitation, the deputy leapt from his crouching position onto the roadway leading up to the building. He was no more than twenty yards away from the kidnapper. Phoenix and Geoff fell in right behind the deputy. Echo reached around the corner with the video camera, its harsh light illuminating the entrance to the plant.

J.C. quickly raised his firearm into the ready position, but with Dennis and Annie so close together, it was not an ideal situation. "Hold it right there, Sessions!" he shouted.

"Is that you, J.C.?"

Annie's muffled voice could be heard, struggling to speak through the cloth stuffed into her mouth. Her arms were bound behind her and he was dragging her along by her wrists. The light from the camera glistened off the mirrored finish of the large hunting knife held firmly against her throat.

"Come on, Dennis," the deputy continued. "You don't want to hurt her. We can work this out."

"And just exactly how do you think we are going to... work this out?" He squinted to look past J.C. and continued. "Who is that with you?"

Phoenix stepped up to the right of the deputy and replied, "Phoenix Worthy. You remember. We met in your office and just a little while ago at the sheriff's department."

"Oh, yeah," he sneered. "I remember you and your look of indignation when you came to my office."

He turned his attention back to Annie. "This is a pretty woman you have here, Mr. Worthy. We've had a lovely time this evening. Now if you will all just back off, we have to get going now."

"I can't let you do that, Dennis," J.C. shouted.

"Oh, and what are you going to do, shoot me?" He crouched even farther behind his prisoner, using her as a shield. "You might put a bullet through her pretty little head; now step back!"

Geoff stepped around J.C. to his left and started walking towards the building, slowly making his way to the couple. "Relax, Annie," he said. "He is not going to hurt you."

The distinct southern voice of Chance McKenzie startled the distraught lawyer. "What the hell?"

The light on Echo's video camera and the flashlights all began to blink out, one by one, in rapid succession, until the only light remaining was from the ominous presence of the bright full moon.

Phoenix looked over at Echo and whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know – a power issue of some kind. I didn't have time to grab spare batteries. I don't think it would've mattered. These were brand new."

As Geoff continued his slow walk towards Annie, Dennis pulled the knife away from her throat and pointed it directly at him. "You stop right there, I mean it. I'll cut her open, I swear I will."

Suddenly, Geoff collapsed and before he hit the ground a mist of fine smoke collected where he stood, outlining the ghostly image of Chance McKenzie. Without missing a step, Chance continued advancing towards the duo.

Dennis's eyes got wide and wild as he watched the misty presence advance. He pulled Annie closer against him and tried to move the knife back against her throat, but found he was unable to do so. His arm was frozen in the extended position.

Annie felt his grip on her wrists release and she quickly jumped away, falling to the hard concrete by his feet. She looked up in time to see the misty image of Janet McKenzie materialize, her vaporous hands clenched around the outstretched arm.

Echo dropped the camera and ran past Phoenix and past Geoff, who was struggling to get back to his feet. She ignored her mentor's shouts. She did not stop until she reached the spot where Annie lay inches away from the frozen form of Dennis Sessions. She picked Annie up by her shoulders, shouting, "Come on, let's go!"

Once Annie was on her feet, they both hustled away, leaving her abductor in the grip of unimaginable terror. The cloudy form of Chance McKenzie enveloped the screaming attorney. "My God, help me!"

"Damn, Phoenix," Echo shouted. "Are you seeing this?"

"Oh, hell yeah!"

J.C. lowered his pistol down to the safe position as Howard walked up beside him, saying, "This is unbelievable."

"That was always your problem, Howard - believing." Phoenix replied.

They all stood watching as a swirling mist seemed to dis-appear into the screaming attorney. The dim image of Janet stood close to his side, watching like a spectator to evil.

Awareness left the attorney's eyes and his motions became robotic, as if he were suspended on unseen strings from a puppeteer's hand.

Dennis, still clutching the knife in his right hand, slowly pulled the blade up to his throat and with a lethargic, determined action, pulled the sharp blade from jugular to jugular, cutting deep into the front of his neck and throat. Dark blood, pulsating with each beat of his dying heart, sprayed from both sides. For several seconds he stood there, shivering from the shock of life-sustaining blood flowing from his body, before his knees buckled and he collapsed in to the ground. A light puff of air gurgled from the gash in his throat as his last breath left his body.

Two dim ghostly images stood together at the top of the platform. Phoenix watched as they slowly evaporated, leaving no trace of their existence, no evidence of ever having been there, no proof whatsoever.

"What just happened?" Geoff said, in his typical British accent. "What did I miss?"

Echo worked to untie the ropes binding Annie's small hands. Once free, Annie grabbed her by the neck and gave her a big hug. "Thank you for coming for me."

Echo smiled briefly before pulling away. "Don't thank me; thank your boyfriend."

Phoenix stepped up and took Annie by the waist and pulled her close for a long embrace. "Yeah, thank your boyfriend."

The sound of sirens coming in from the main road sliced through the quiet night like a storm front. As the Sheriff's car rounded the corner, headlights illuminated the scene including Phoenix and Annie's embrace. Deputy Brown and Howard exchanged a look.

"What are we going to tell the Sheriff?" Howard asked.

The deputy holstered his pistol and replied, "Hell, I don't have a clue. He will never believe this."

Doug Clayton jumped from his car. "All right, who is going to tell me what happened here?"

Phoenix, still hanging onto Annie by her waist, motioned to Geoff and Echo. As the team walked past the Sheriff, Phoenix stopped and said, "I'm afraid you'll have to get it from one of those guys," he said, pointing back to a very confused deputy and prosecutor.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Worthy!" Doug Clayton shouted.

Howard yelled back, "Let them go Sheriff. I'll tell you all about it, just as soon as I can figure it out myself."

"Thanks Howard," Phoenix injected. I'll see you in the morning before we head back to Savannah."

The Morning After

Rumor and conjecture about the death of Dennis Sessions spread throughout Tallahassee. The newspaper reported it as a suicide. The real story was known by a small handful of people who agreed it was a story best kept secret.

For Phoenix Rising Investigations, breakfast at the diner had been a parade of townspeople coming by their table, everyone asking questions – nobody getting answers. With no hard evidence, the awful truth was not subject to general conversation.

The public story, being earthly in nature, served little to assuage the onslaught of questions about ghosts and what really happened to Janet and Chance McKenzie.

When they were finally left to themselves, Echo turned and said, "You know, Phoenix, we have some of the preliminary data, the stuff we recorded at the house. That's good for something, right?"

He looked back at her. "Yes, we have some pretty good environmental data, and some of the video will be very useful, but still nothing to present as absolute proof."

Echo sighed, "Too bad we lost the video at the plant."

"Yeah," he replied. "Too bad."

After a couple of minutes of silence, he pointed at Echo and Geoff. "After you get checked out, I want you two to go back to the McKenzie house and pack up the stuff we left over there. Meet us back at Howard's office at ten. I want to get through Jacksonville before rush hour."

Geoff stood. "Will do, mate. See you then."

He watched them leave the diner and turned back to Annie. "In case I haven't told you, I'm glad you are coming back to Savannah with us."

"I'm looking forward to finally getting a ride on this boat you keep talking about."

"I want you to think about staying for a couple of weeks and going to the ghost hunters' conference in Charleston. Mouton is going to be there, and I might need a little help with Geoff."

"I cannot think of anything I would like better," she replied.

* * * * *

Janet and Chance McKenzie stood in their old kitchen, watching Echo and Geoff pack up the array of computers, sensors, and monitoring equipment.

"What was he like?" Janet asked.

"Who?"

"The British guy."

"Oh, he was very nice."

"So was the Indian lady, although she never would let me all the way in. She seemed very tuned into our world."

"Yes, she did," Chance smiled.

The PRI team was completely oblivious to the ghostly conversation taking place in the next room. Recording devices able to document the discussion were long stored in their plastic containers and buried in the back of Geoff's truck.

"Hey, Eck, you want to hear something funny?" Geoff asked.

"Sure."

"Every since that bloke Chance let me go, I've had this bloody Jethro Tull song in my head and I don't even like his music. It's like a nonstop concert of old rock and roll."

"I bet that's a gift from your new friend, Chance."

"Bloody hell," Geoff cringed and headed out the front door with the last equipment container.

Janet snickered. "Did you do that?"

"I wanted to leave him something special to remember me by. Being British, I figured he would like Tull."

They sat in silence with their supernatural hands intertwined, proving their love was not lessened by their death, but had strengthened in the spiritual world. They watched as the attractive Latina technician did one final walkthrough, making sure nothing was left behind. Being satisfied, she walked to the door and set the lock to catch behind her.

Just as she was leaving, she stopped, turned around, and shouted. "Goodbye, Janet. Goodbye, Chance. Thank you for letting us meet you."

Echo had no more turned to exit when a woman's distinctly southern voice softly drifted through the empty room. "You're welcome."

\- T H E E N D -
