Page 54 of The Witch

“Well…”

I want to say yes. I haven’t gone on a date in a while, because every man I meet seems to have a boatload of baggage. Henry, on the other hand, is funny, smart, and cute, and he seems like a pretty nice guy. Plus, that whole old-fashioned thing he’s got going on is sort of sexy.

But right now, I desperately want to get him out of here before my appointment arrives.

“I have no cell service back at Pemberton,” I remind him. “So if you call, you’re not going to be able to reach me.”

He frowns. “Right…”

“So…”

I start to tell him that he should give me his number, and then hopefully send him on his way, but before I can, a gruff voice above me says, “Julia?”

I look up at the muscle-bound man with the shiny bald head in his late forties standing over me, clutching a cup of coffee in his left hand. Right down to the scruff on his face and the army fatigue jacket, Alistair Dixon looks identical to the way he did in his website photo. “Uh, yes,” I say.

Henry’s eyes fly open wide as he scrambles to his feet. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were on a…”

I don’t want Henry to think I’m on a date with this guy, but I also don’t want to tell him why we’re meeting here. Because if I do, Henry definitely will have no further interest in going out with me. I know that for sure.

Fortunately, the man solves my dilemma for me. He thrusts his hand in Henry’s direction. “Hello,” he says. “I’m Alistair Dixon—ghost hunter.”

For a moment, Henry just shakes his hand wordlessly, his mouth hanging open. It takes him several seconds to spit out, “I’m Henry Ziegler. I work at the Woodhaven Museum.”

“Oh, that place is rife with spirits.” Dixon settles into the remaining chair across from me and lays his coffee cup on the table. “You need to have some kind of exorcism to get rid of all of them. I do exorcisms, by the way, if you’re ever interested.”

“Exorcisms?” To my dismay, Henry sits back down in his chair, apparently having decided to stay. “Is that so?”

“Yep, it’s on my website,” Dixon says proudly. “But my specialty is standard haunts. That’s why Julia here gave me a call.” He focuses his attention back on me. “But you were calling about that big estate just up north, right? Pendleton?”

“Pemberton,” I murmur. I can’t even look at Henry.

“Before we get into the specific details of your haunting,” he says, “I’d like to tell you a little bit more about myself and my own qualifications. First of all, I have been a certified ghost hunter for the past three years.”

“Certified ghost hunter?” Henry repeats with a bemused expression. “So exactly what academic qualifications are required to become a certified ghost hunter?”

“Great question,” Dixon says, as if Henry isn’t mocking him. “I have a diploma in practical ghost hunting and scientific analysis.”

“Uh-huh,” Henry says, “and from what fine university is your ghost hunting degree?”

“It’s a digital accreditation,” Dixon clarifies. “As I’m sure you know, a lot of your standard universities can’t open their minds to the idea of the paranormal.”

“Shocking,” Henry mutters.

“I also have unparalleled field experience,” Dixon adds. “In the last three years, I have investigated dozens of supernatural phenomena, and I have communicated with the spiritual world on numerous occasions. I use the latest technological equipment that helps detect activity from the afterlife.”

“You mean like a proton pack?” Henry says with a grin.

“No.” Dixon shrugs off his army fatigue jacket and then takes a moment to pry the lid off his coffee cup, which I now realize is actually hot cocoa. “I have a K2 electromagnetic field meter. I also have an electronic voice phenomena recorder to catch disembodied voices. I have captured multiple instances of ghosts trying to communicate with the world of the living.” He directs his attention at me this time. “If you’ve got a ghost in your house, Julia, we’re going to have a conversation with her, one way or another.”

I glance over at Henry, whose lips are turned down, and then quickly back at Dixon. “I don’t entirely know what I want.”

“You didn’t go into much detail on the phone.” Dixon leans his elbows on the table, and I can make out a tattoo on his biceps. It looks like…two ghosts making out? “Can you tell me more about the spirit infiltration going on at Pemberton?”

“Yes,” Henry says, leaning forward. “Tell us more.”

I try to ignore the way Henry is staring at me with raised eyebrows as I tell Dixon everything that has happened since I arrived at Pemberton. Dixon listens to the whole story, nodding like this is something he sees every day.

“You’ve got what we call a ‘cold spot’ in your bedroom,” he tells me. “That’s a sudden localized drop in temperature that happens when the specter enters the room. Very common.”