“Oh, fuck you. ” Samantha scowled.
“Sam,” Jeff said gently, touching her hand and getting her attention. “You saw the ghost of this jogger, right?”
She nodded, tears still tracing down her cheeks.
“Where?”
“The jogging trail. Under the Mopac Bridge. ”
Jeff didn’t doubt Samantha had seen something very upsetting. It was clear that she was distraught and very rattled. Also, a little drunk and on a caffeine high. “Tell me what happened. ”
In rather disjointed and sometimes incoherent string of words, Samantha related all that had happened that morning.
“Sounds like a sentient ghost,” Benchley said, his tone very serious. Benchley was the best ghost hunter Jeff knew. He took ghosts very seriously.
“But that’s not the worst of it, Jeff,” Samantha continued. “It was really scary, gooey, and bloody, but I think I felt her there before. Today is the first day I saw her, but I always feel this really super-cold breeze under the bridge. And. . . and. . . I’ve been seeing things out of the corner of my eye around my house. When I drove by the cemetery the other day, this old man was sitting on a gravestone and he waved at me. And now I think he’s a ghost. Then I realized that the other day I said hello to this woman walking down my street and my friend, Giselle, who was with me, didn’t see her. I thought she was jerking my chain, but now. . . now. . . ”
“You think you’re a medium?” Jeff offered.
“Uh huh. Just like that Lost Highway chick,” Samantha said with a solemn nod.
“Got that reference, and Patricia Arquette is hot,” Benchley said.
“Tell me I’m not going all Allison Dubois, please, Jeff. Please!” Samantha clutched at his hands, her big eyes imploring him.
“Have you ever sensed or seen anything before the last few months? In your childhood?” Jeff asked. He plucked a pen from the jar and began taking notes on the cover of her folder.
“No, never. ”
“When did you start noticing things? Like maybe cold spots, shadows, flashes of people out of the corner of your eye, that sort of thing?”
Samantha stared at him as she pondered his question. Slowly, her eyes grew larger. “That whore!”
“Amaliya reference, right?” Benchley asked Jeff.
Jeff nodded.
“I’m catching on. ” Benchley looked proud.
“After I drank from her! When I almost died and you made me drink her blood!”
“Good thing you don’t have customers right now because that would be really hard to play off,” Benchley said.
“Jeff, you made me drink her blood! You said it would heal me! You didn’t say it would make me go all Ghost Whisperer!”
“Sam, are you sure? You never experienced anything like that before?”
“Dude, I’m Baptist. We believe in God, the devil, and angels. Not ghosts. ”
Jeff rubbed his brow, pondering everything she had told him. “A lot of people do end up coming into their abilities with a near death experience. That could be why you’re now seeing things. ”
Samantha rubbed the spot where the sword had skewered her a few months before. “Yeah? You mean it’s not the skank’s fault?”
“Not sure. Let me check on something. ”
Sliding out from behind the counter, Jeff headed into the back of the store to where he kept his private collection of books written by previous vampire hunters. The fire safe was tucked into a corner of his office. After unlocking it, he pulled out a few of the leather bound journals.
Benchley and Samantha lingered in the doorway to his office, watching. He sat at his desk and started flipping through the tomes. Rubbing his leg, he rested his artificial leg on a rest under his desk. Every once in a while his stump would give him issues. Today, he was having phantom pains in a foot he no longer possessed.