Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

be having trouble accepting that he wasn’t holding their full attention.
    “Keep him busy,” Melody said suddenly.
    “What?” said JC.
    “Patterson! Keep the dead man occupied! I’ve got an idea.”
    She turned and ran, sprinting down the street. Everyone else stood there and watched her go. Happy looked longingly after her.
    “Running away looks like a really good idea to me. Wish I’d thought of it first.”
    “Stand fast!” JC said immediately. “She’s not running out on us. She’ll be back.”
    “You think she has a plan?” said Happy.
    “Hopefully.”
    “A cunning plan?”
    “Let’s not set our hopes too high.”
    Happy sighed heavily. “What if we all ran in different directions at once?”
    “We can’t abandon the Boss,” said JC. “The dead man would kill her in a moment if we weren’t here to protect her.”
    “Well, yes,” said Happy. “But you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
    “I am still here!” said Latimer. “I can still hear you! There will be discussions about this later.”
    Happy looked down his nose at her. “I never liked you. I’m only still here because of the principle of the thing, so shut your cake-hole and let us concentrate.”
    Latimer looked at JC. “When did he grow a pair?”
    “My little boy is all grown-up,” said JC. “I couldn’t be more proud. Now do as the terrified but still somehow holding his ground telepath says, and keep the dead man occupied while Happy and I try to think of something. You might try asking him why he hasn’t killed us yet, a question that has been much on my mind.”
    “Don’t give the dead thing ideas,” growled Happy. “He’s probably got a very good reason, and I don’t want him doubting it.”
    Latimer sniffed loudly. “I do not negotiate with monsters. And I am not helpless! I didn’t get to where I am in the Carnacki Institute without learning a few useful and really unpleasant tricks along the way . . . Like this one.” She glared at Patterson. “You! Dead thing! Pay attention! Whatever you are, within my old friend’s body. You think you’re so hard, cope with this!”
    She slammed her wrinkled hands together while speaking aloud a Word of Power, and the ground shuddered under everyone’s feet. A harsh grinding noise filled the night air, and the ground tore itself apart. A huge split opened up, zigzagging its crooked way across the street between Patterson and the others, then the split widened abruptly into a crack, enlarging into a great crevice that opened up beneath the dead man’s feet. He fell into the wide gap without a sound, and it swallowed him up. Latimer brought her hands together again, and the two sides of the crevice slammed together. The loud, grinding noises stopped immediately, and the ground settled. The night air was still. All that remained of the crevice was a long, jagged crack in the street. JC looked at Latimer with new respect.
    “I didn’t know you could do that.”
    “Not many do,” said Latimer. “That’s the point.”
    “And the dead man is toast!” said Happy, doing an ecstatic little jig on the spot. “He is flatter than toast! He is dead and very definitely departed.” He stopped dancing and nodded brusquely to Latimer. “I may be a little more respectful at future meetings. It’s possible.”
    Then the ground shuddered under their feet again. They all looked down. The ground shook again, more insistently, then groaned loudly as the jagged split jerked itself apart, opening up foot by foot, until it was a crevice again. And from that crevice, up out of the dark, Patterson rose. He soared into the air, like a dark bird of ill omen, hanging in the air above them, held there in defiance of all natural laws by sheer force of will. The two sides of the crevice slammed together again, and Patterson sank slowly down to stand exactly where he had before. Unhurt, untouched, unruffled. He smiled condescendingly at Latimer.
    “Is that really the best you’ve got?”
    “There is no way you did that on your own!” snapped Latimer. “You had help. Powerful help. Outside help. Who are your masters? ”
    Patterson nodded slowly. He looked heavier now, more solid. More real , as though he was several things in one place. The ground cracked and broke beneath his feet, as though he weighed more heavily on the world than a real thing should.
    “Ah, Catherine,” he said. “I have always enjoyed our little chats. You’re quite right. I’m not alone. You