Twilight: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 3

Bay High.
Sam shuddered. He still had nightmares about that day during the investigation of the high school, and the days following. The other-dimensional creature biting Bo’s thigh, Bo’s face flushed with fever and rapidly advancing infection, the doctor’s grave voice as he told Sam and the others Bo might not live. Sam thought he’d never stop hearing those words, never stop seeing Bo lying still and silent in that damn ICU bed.
    Stop it. That’s all behind you. Bo’s fine now. Andre’s fine, or as fine as can be expected. Don’t dwell on it.
    Fighting the urge to wrap Bo in a protective embrace, Sam shook himself and focused on the conversation going on around him.
    “Andre and I have felt out all the spots where paranormal activity has been reported here,” Cecile was saying. Andre’s psychic abilities were stronger than Cecile’s or Sam’s, but Cecile was by far the most experienced in the practical application of those abilities, so she was default leader when it came to the psychic portion of the investigations. “I’m not finding any malevolent energy anywhere in this building. In fact, I believe most of the hauntings here are probably residuals. The Lady in Red is probably the one true apparition here.”
    Sam grimaced. “Wish I’d sent Toby along with you last night, Dean. If the butler’s ghost in the pantry is a residual haunting, he wouldn’t have interacted with Toby the way the Lady did, and the little wuss wouldn’t have run off.”
    “I don’t know.” Dean ran a hand through his blond-streaked hair, gray-green eyes thoughtful. “The butler’s definitely a residual. But it’s pretty hair-raising to see him chop his own hand off with a meat cleaver and go running around the kitchen.”
    David rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Toby would’ve had a whole herd of cows.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Sam glanced at Bo, who was unusually quiet. He was staring intently at the front desk, which was about ten feet from where they stood. “Bo? What are you looking at?”
“That woman at the desk just mentioned my name.” Eyes narrowing, Bo stepped closer to the desk. “Yes, she just said it again. I wonder what she wants?”
The group looked at each other and fell silent by unspoken consensus. Sam stepped up next to Bo, listening as hard as he could.
“I really need to speak with him,” the woman at the desk said. “It’s very important. I promise not to disturb their work, but I have to see him.”
Sam studied the stranger. She was short, with a rounded figure hidden by loose jeans and a thick jacket. She wore sturdy, mud-caked hiking boots. Two shoulder-length brown braids hung from beneath a dark red knit cap. In profile, her face looked young and harmless, with a snub nose and round, rosy cheeks.
Bo and Sam glanced at each other. Sam shrugged at the question in Bo’s eyes. He’d never seen the woman before in his life, and evidently Bo hadn’t either.
The worker at the desk looked distinctly skeptical. He leaned toward the woman. Sam heard him say something, but couldn’t make out what it was. Whatever he said, however, it did not make the woman happy. She slammed one petite fist on the gleaming wooden counter.
“Fine,” she said, her voice rising. “I’ll just sit right out here and wait. You can’t stop me from doing that.”
The desk worker’s face darkened. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
The woman blinked, a stricken expression crossing her face. She seemed at a loss for words. Shoulders slumping, she turned around and started toward the lobby doors. If she saw Bo and the others, she gave no sign of recognizing them.
Bo watched her, biting his lip and pulling on his braid. Just as the woman reached the doors, decision hardened in his eyes. “Come with me, Sam. We’re going to talk to her.”
With a quick glance at his coworkers, Sam trotted after Bo, who was striding across the lobby as fast as his long legs would take him. The rest of the group stayed put. They didn’t seem surprised, any more than Sam was. It would be completely unlike Bo not to find out what was behind the stranger’s demands to see him.
They caught up to her as she was descending the wide stone steps from the verandah in front of the Inn. “Excuse me, miss?” Bo jogged the last few feet and touched the woman’s shoulder.
She turned around, wide blue eyes questioning. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Bo Broussard,” Bo said. “I’m sorry, but I overheard