Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

pieces of equipment on and grinned at Dean. “I’m all set.”
Dean grinned back, his stomach turning somersaults. God, but Sommer’s smile did things to him. “Let’s start with this room, since we’re here already. Then we’ll go in order counterclockwise. Dining room, kitchen, your bathroom and bedroom, then the foyer.”
“And we’re leaving the stationary camera in the kitchen running all night, right?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. It’s set up with a wireless connection to my laptop.” He gestured toward the iBook on the coffee table. “We don’t have enough people to monitor it continuously, but that’s okay. Whenever anyone’s in here we can check on it and see what’s going on, at least. And the entire night’s video’ll be recorded on my laptop.”
“Sounds good.”
Dean glanced at his watch, which he’d synchronized earlier with the thermal camera and audio. “This is Dean and Sommer, Tuesday January tenth, two thousand and six, nine oh two p.m., Blue Skye Inn parlor. Date, time and place for the record,” he explained in answer to Sommer’s puzzled expression.
“Ah. Okay.” Sommer held up the EMF meter. “EMF is zero point one.”
“Walk around the room with it. Make a slow, steady circuit, and see if there’s any spikes anywhere.”
Sommer paced along the wall, his gaze glued to the backlit EMF detector. Dean switched off the light, then stood in front of the coffee table, turning in a slow circle to capture the entire room on video. Sommer’s form blazed red and orange on the screen as Dean scanned past him. Dean lingered on the brilliantly colored curves of Sommer’s ass for a moment before moving on.
Other than a minimal spike in EMF around the TV and stereo, the parlor yielded nothing of interest. Neither did the dining room. Dean had high hopes for the kitchen, since that was where Sommer had always seen the apparition before, but it was just as quiet as the other downstairs rooms. By the time he and Sommer trudged upstairs to switch areas with Ron and Kerry—who hadn’t seen or heard anything either—Dean had resigned himself to an experience-free night. Those tended to be the rule rather than the exception, but he’d hoped to see something tonight, mostly so his friends could feel the heart-pounding rush of a personal paranormal encounter backed up by video or audio.
Oh well, we have nearly a month to investigate. There’s plenty of time.
“Entering guestroom four,” Dean announced for the record as he and Sommer walked into the second-to-last upstairs room. “Sommer? Anything?”
“Not really. EMF’s zero point four, a little higher than it’s been up until now but—” He stopped, staring hard at the meter. “Wait a sec, it’s going up. Zero point seven, one point one, one point six.” He looked up, frowning. “Is it just me, or is it cold in here?”
“You’re right, it is.”
“Does that mean the ghost is near?”
“Maybe.” Dean turned the thermal camera toward Sommer, scanning the area around him. “Ask some questions, like is anyone here, who is it, what do they want, stuff like that. Leave a few seconds in between questions so if anything’s here it’ll have a chance to answer without us talking over it.”
“Okay.” Sommer licked his lips. “Uh. Is there anyone here with us?” He paused, his eyes wide in the darkness. “What’s your name?”
On the thermal screen, a grayish blue form materialized about a foot to Sommer’s left. A thrill of excitement shot up Dean’s spine. “Don’t panic, but there’s a figure right next to you.”
Sommer drew in a sharp breath. His shoulders tensed. “Where?”
“To your left.”
Moving slowly, Sommer reached out his left hand. It plunged right into the heart of the nebulous shape. “It’s colder here. Like ice. It’s making my hand numb.”
“You’ve got your hand right inside it.” The thing began floating away. “Hang on, it’s moving.” Dean glanced at Sommer, who stood frozen to the spot, staring at the faint mist Dean could now see wafting across the room. “Looks like it’s headed for the dresser.”
“Oh, my God.” Sommer’s voice was an awed whisper. “Who are you? What are you trying to tell us?”
Dean got the distinct feeling that Sommer wasn’t doing EVP work this time. The questions sounded less like prompts and more like pleas for something to help him understand.
Keeping one eye on the thermal, Dean moved to Sommer’s side and kissed his shoulder. “Is there