Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

bounced around us. "Goofy dog."
    "She's so cute!" Mallory gushed. "That big old tongue lolling out…"
    "Racing dogs have horrible lives," T'Pau said. "They can be left in a crate for twenty hours a day."
    "That's awful!" Mallory said. "She loves to run so much!"
    " Jacob Batteiger ," Alan read, leaning over a gravestone. " July 23, 1768— April 17, 1853. May God Have Mercy. What kind of an epitaph is that?"
    "Ooh, do you think he was a bad man?" Mallory bent over the stone. "No family mentioned— is that how it usually is?"
    "This one has family." Tania wiped moss from a large block with a disintegrating angel. " Sacred to the memory of Isaac Class, Beloved Husband. Philippa Class, Mother and Wife. Departed this life June 16, 1865. They both died on the same day? Or one of them did, and the other was buried here later?"
    "I bet there are records," Mallory said. "I wonder what we could find?"
    "You know…" Alan set his back to a tall narrow column, "we could do this for our segment."
    "What, hunt down historical records?" Tania asked.
    "No. Well, yes— but also ghost stories. Look at this place!" He waved at the graveyard with its moldering stones and encroaching woods, at the black timbers of the church beyond. "You know there are tons of stories about this place."
    "That would be fun to film, and sure to catch interest," Mallory said. "I like it!"
    "I don't," I had to say. I hated to shut Alan down when he'd just started contributing, but— "It's supposed to be a news segment."
    "So it's a local color piece. Have you watched the news lately? Not a whole lot of actual news anymore."
    "He does have a point," Tania admitted. "And it would be different— no one else would be doing it, which is a possibility with every other suggestion we've had." T'Pau rolled her eyes, but didn't comment since it wasn't her project.
    "We'll talk about it," I said. "Did you all want a closer look at the church?"
    "I say we talk about it now," Alan said, moving away from the spire. "Wasn't it the great Lukas Blake who said the sooner we decided the better?"
    "Twiggy thinks it's interesting," Mallory said with a laugh. "Look, she's headed—"
    I whistled, calling Twiggy back before she bounded into the ruins themselves. "It's not safe in there," I said as she bounced up to my side. "Stuff still falls sometimes."
    "What happened?"
    "It was struck by lightning. According to some stories, anyway. I've also heard it was set. The story goes that it was a stop on the Underground Railroad, and some people around here had a problem with that. Some say God did too, and that's why the lightning strike." Great, I had to mention the Underground Railroad, one of Tania's interests. Could I try any harder to lose this argument?
    "Anyone in it when it burned?" Alan asked.
    "That depends on the story," I admitted. "But it's likely."
    Alan threw out his hands in a told you so! gesture, like I'd made his point for him. And I pretty much had. Unless I managed to come up with something amazing, I was going to get stuck doing a mockumentary about ghosts.
    Twiggy sighted on something and froze, blocking my legs and almost sending me sprawling. She was staring into the ruins but I didn't see whatever rabbit or squirrel had got her attention.
    "Twiggy knows there's something here," Alan said softly.
    "She's a Sighthound." I took a firm grip on her collar to keep her from racing off and killing something small and fluffy. "Not a second-sight-hound."
    "Ha!" Alan crowed. "What do you know, Lukas does have a sense of humor!"
    "I know you don't like the idea," Mallory said softly, "but, Lukas, I think this is a great plan. I mean, it's really creepy now, with the shadows and the ruins and the old forgotten graves. Imagine how much better it would be with just a little creative camera work!"
    "And with the hook of the ghosts, we could bring in mention of the reality," Tania said. "The history we all walk by every day and don't even know it's there."
    "We could try to focus on a few stones," Alan said. "What if we found some that have surviving family— or at least the same last name as people in the class? Additional creepy!"
    "If we wait another month to film, the leaves will be gone," Tania said. "The light will be better and the atmosphere all we could want."
    "What's the name of this place?" Alan asked, pulling a notebook and pen from his pocket.
    "Old Galilee." I pointed through the trees at a white spire. "That's New Galilee."
    "So it burned and they just