Death by Chocolate (The Davenports 2)

Trish placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It is. It lets him work freely and gives you a break from the situation to come back fresh.”

“All right. Let me just change out of my uniform.”

She walked from the room.

“What did you find in the bedroom?” Trish asked once the door closed.

“Absolutely nothing. It was in pristine condition.” She blinked. “I know. It’s unusual. She seemed sound of mind when we spoke, and there’s no history of mental health. I think bringing in Dr. Jay to examine her would add some validity if we need to dig deeper.”

“I don’t feel unsettled or apprehensive in here, Micah.”

“Me either.”

The door opened. Daize emerged in a pair of form-fitting blue jeans, an oversized white cable knit sweater, and knee-high brown boots with fringe.

“I love those boots,” Trish gushed.

“Thank you. I’ve never gotten to do fall and winter, so I’m taking advantage of the different clothing options.”

“I’ll drive. You relax.” Trish sweeps her out the door with easy conversation. She has a knack for people. He’d never been sure if it stemmed from her bubbly personality or her deep involvement in her Christian faith.

Micah grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Go ahead and send up Carl.”

Carl walked through the threshold and frowned. “There’s an energy here. This land has seen many lives pass, and their energy lingers.” He stepped through the door.

“Do you think it’s residual?” Micah asked.

“A portion of what I’m experiencing is. But, there’s ...” frowning, he continues his walk to the kitchen, “something else. It’s masked, or maybe slumbering is a better way to say it.”

“So, you think there is paranormal activity going on here?”

“I believe so.” His brow wrinkled. “It’s hard to get a read. It feels like a bad connection. There’s a lot of static. I haven’t experienced that before.”

“What do you think it means?”

“It could be crossed signals, too many energies trying to be noticed at once maybe. I’ll need to research it. I’ve never run into anything quite like this.” He moved back into the living room and hummed. “There’s so much here. I wonder if this is a vortex situation.” His eyes took on an unfocused appearance. “So many lives, all different paths.” He slowly walked into the bedroom. “It’s concentrated in here.” He approached the window and frowned, stepping back. Carl cocked his head and closed his eyes. “Perhaps there’s an item, native to the apartment or the building itself that’s collected all this energy.”

“Do you think it’s malicious?” Micah whispered.

“I can’t say definitively,” Carl answered apologetically.

“I think we have a base reading. Let’s get everything set up.”

SEATED ON THE COUCH, Micah watched the monitors via the computer. They’d begun their official investigation at midnight. Three hours later, they had nothing to show. Daize’s sleep had been undisturbed. There were no hits on the motion detector or the 3D Mapping camera.

“Is this thing hiding or what?” Micah asked quietly.

“Or what,” Brendon replied.

“I think we should use the Spirit Box and do some EVP sessions before we wrap. It’s three o’clock. If it was going to speak, it’d be now in the dead of night.” Micah rubbed the back of his neck.

“Let’s put Mel on the EVP, and you can take the voice box. I’ll man the computer,” Brendon suggested.

Eager to leave the couch, Micah handed over the headphones and stood.

“Mel. Do you want to do an EVP in the restroom? It’s closer to the bathroom. I’ll do a voice box session in the kitchen.” Seated on the cool tile, Micah turned on the machine—the radio signal’s cycle continuously creating a robotic static. “Is there anything here that wishes to speak to me?” the channels cycled. “If you have something you want to say, now is the time.” He leaned back against the kitchen island.

“Hungry.” The mechanical voice made him jerked.