Death by Chocolate (Davenports Book 2) Page 2

  “Excellent. Another successful case closed,” Eric said. His youthful exuberance was contagious. The college student was their technical whiz kid. He ran the cameras and bought the newest gadgets their budget could handle. He then proceeded to teach each of them how to use it. His brown eyes sparkled with happiness. He brushed his coal black hair away from his forehead.

  “Any news on the Meyer case?” Carl asked. The older man had salt and pepper hair, a kind face with smile lines and crow’s feet, and psychic abilities. He often went into a home to pick up on what might have happened. Rooted in his Christian faith, he kept them safe and often advised the families.

  “None so far. In this case, I’d say no news was good news. They might want to distance themselves from everything that happened, which includes us,” Mel, their active Wiccan, said. Her multi-colored, pastel-colored mermaid hair framed her delicate heart-shaped face.

  “I understand it, but it’s a shame. I want to know they’re okay,” Micah admitted.

  “I always feel the same way,” Scott agreed.

  “It’s one of the tough parts of what we do. A lot of people are ashamed of having paranormal activity. They think it’s a reflection on them or how they live their lives. It’s the number one reason why most people don’t even contact us until their issues are out of control and they can no longer deal with them,” Brendon explained.

  “It’s a thankless job in some cases.” Peter set his mug down and shrugged. “But if we don’t do it who will?”

  “That should be our new motto,” Eric quipped.

  “No, it took us long enough to come up with a slogan,” Mel protested.

  “We have some business we’d like to go over with you, Micah.” Brendon brought the conversation back under control with his stern tone.

  Micah swallowed as he tried to think of what he might’ve done to earn a talking to. “Yeah?”

  “We all discussed it, and we think it’s time for you to head an investigation,” Brendon said.

  “What? You do?” Suddenly, Micah was a child offered endless candy.

  Brendon’s wife, Maria, placed a hand on his. “You know the protocol, and you’ve put in the work. We have a new case in. We want to hand it over to you.”

  Silenced, he blinked. He hadn’t expected this.

  “Will you take it?” Brendon asked.

  “Yeah. I-I’d be honored.” He nodded his head enthusiastically.

  “Let’s show him what we have.” Brendon produced a manila file folder and slid it across the table as everyone began to place their order. Daize Kahle, age thirty-one. A recent move from California landed her here for a job. She moved into the Claymore 300 apartments. She noticed creaks, groans, and missing items in the first month, but wrote it off. Two months later, the presence made itself known in an aggressive display of flickering lights, booms, knocking, and opening and closing doors and dresser drawers.

  “This one is a 9-1-1.” Micah looked up from the file.

  “Yeah. We want to meet with her as soon as possible. She’s been in a hotel for the past few days, but that can only last so long. I want us to be there when she returns to her apartment,” Brendon said. Maria nodded.

  “I’ll get a game plan started tonight and have a course of action ready. Have we started researching the apartment or the area?” Micah asked.

  “We plan on doing that tonight, too,” Maria said.

  “No time like the present.” Scott’s fingers fly over the keys of his tablet. The Clifton Gaslight area had become a trendy place frequented by college kids, but many of the areas had roots that went back a hundred years or more. He sympathized with Daize. He couldn’t imagine relocating so far from everyone and everything you knew to face things you didn’t understand or know how to fight. He wanted to solve this for her to bring her peace and give her a chance to like the city he’d been born and raised in.

  “I’ll arrange a meeting with her this weekend,” Micah promised.

  A barely audible whisper to his left made him turn his head. No one had entered the shop, and the waiter was busy in the kitchen. He shuddered. The case was trying to get into his head. He couldn’t let that happen. He had things to prove.

  HE ARRIVED AT LYDIA’S on Ludlow early to go over her case one more time before she arrived and snagged a seat in the library section. He’d chosen the cozy café because they served freshly baked goods, artisan coffee, and had a laid-back vibe that set most people at ease. A spiritual center with candles, innocence, and various stones behind a glass case greeted guests when they came in. Tables and booths with mismatched salt and pepper shakers filled the main area leading up to a counter with stools. Neatly written on chalkboards hanging on the walls were the soups of the day and coffee selections.

  On the far left was a library section with shelves full of books on a variety of topics, and board games. The coffee shop hosted a number of events from live music to family game nights and book signings. The table in the library gave him the anonymity they needed to speak openly.

  Micah wasn’t sure what to expect from Daize. It felt like an awkward first date when they agreed to look for the curly brown-haired person in a pink peacoat, and the man dressed in black with light brown hair. As far as he could tell, there was no history of paranormal activity in the Claymore apartments—at least, none anyone had documented.

  It was odd to have such sudden intense activity unexpectedly. He’d have to look at Daize, her belief system, and her life. It would take getting up close and personal. I hope she’s ready for that.

  The door swung open, and a bright pink coat caught his attention. He sat up, and his jaw dropped. The bronzed beauty had a head full of dark curls, which tumbled around her oval-shaped face. Large black eyes scanned the room. He stood and waved. Her full lips twitched up into a nervous smile. He was not expecting a total knockout. Used to hiding behind a mask of professionalism, he pushed his immediate attraction on the back burner and stood.

  “Micah?”

  “Yes, Daize. Am I saying it right?”

  She nodded. “You are. Nicely done.” She placed her hand in his, and he smiled. He liked her sass. Her handshake was firm, and her skin was soft. A light scent that reminded him of surf and sand wafted his way.

  “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” Her soft voice held a sweet sincerity.

  “Of course. We’re here to help you.” He patted her hand before they disengaged. “Would you like to get something to drink before we get started?”

  “Is that your way of telling me I should brace myself?”

  He barked a laugh. “No. That was me being polite and using the manners my parents taught me. I’ll confess to picking this spot because their food is amazing, and I don’t want to stuff my face with pastries while you sit there with nothing.”

  She smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, I can’t leave you hanging.” He walked her to the counter, and they fell easily into light conversation. She ordered a Lavender Mocha. The organic hot chocolate had a shot of espresso and lavender syrup. Inhaling her coffee, she wrinkled her upturned nose in a way he found adorable. Getting a refill on his coffee, and a plate of banana nut muffins, he led them back to the table. A quiet fell over the table as they ate.

  “I have no clue where to start this conversation,” she mumbled.

  “Well, how about you tell me about yourself.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Is this where you make sure I’m mentally sound?”

  “I’m not a trained psychologist if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You know it wasn’t.”

  “We’ll be spending a lot of time together in close quarters. It’ll go a lot smoother if we’re friends.”

  Her shoulders relax. “I like that idea. What do you want to know?”

  Everything. “Whatever you feel like telling me?”

  “A question for a question then? We have to keep it fair.”

  “I’ll bite,” Micah agreed.

  “Al
l right. You start.”

  “Have you ever experienced paranormal activity before?” Micah leaned forward.

  She pursed her lips and took a moment before answering. “No. At least none that I was aware of. Why do you do this?”

  “Paranormal investigation?” he guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “Curiosity about the unknown and helping others.”

  She nodded her head. “Decent answers.”

  “What do you hope the CPI will be able to do?”

  “Best case? You’ll get rid of whatever’s in my apartment. Worst, I’ll know I wasn’t crazy and relocate.”

  That answered one of his major questions. Too many times, the client was attached to the home and viewed relocation an impossibility. It made true resolution impossible when the land was the problem. “If you’re willing to move, why contact us?”

  “That’s two questions.” She held up her pointer finger and middle. “I know from watching shows things can be attached to the person. If that’s my issues, moving won’t help.” She shook her head. “My turn. How long have you been doing this?”

  “A little over a year. Before now, work kept me so busy traveling I had little time for much else,” he answered honestly.

  “What changed?”

  “I got stationed locally. We’re opening up a new location in town, and it’s been a game changer.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “It is. I loved traveling when I was younger, but I find I want to slow down and enjoy my friends and family.”

  “Perfect timing.”

  It helps when you co-own the company. Part of him felt guilty. Lying could be more than directly telling falsehoods. Omission counted, too. Still, he liked forming a relationship with someone who had no clue who he or his family were. It gave him a sense of normalcy he didn’t often experience.

  “It was. Have you ever personally dabbled in the occult, or been exposed to it recently?”

  “Are we talking horoscopes?”

  Shaking his head, he gave her a small smile. “No. Ouija board, séance, or ghost walking tour.”

  “No. Do tours really lead to this?” Her eyes widen.

  “Well, there can be an attachment situation.”

  “That’s terrifying.”

  “Are you on any sort of medication that might make you hallucinate?”

  She scoffed. “No.”

  “I know this seems ridiculous, but we have to ask. Do you have a history of mental illness?”

  She gritted her teeth. “No. Do you?”

  “I had a bout with depression years ago, but otherwise, no.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t expected him to be so honest.

  He grinned. “I know this is invasive. Believe me when I say it’s necessary. If we had to call in someone else to help, they would expect this groundwork to be covered.”

  “Do you think it’ll require that?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. We try our best to prepare for all situations. We want to get you back into your apartment, comfortable and safe as soon as we can.”

  She nodded her head. “What can I expect?”

  “The first thing we’ll do is observe. Our camera crew will set up. We’ll bring in our equipment and do EVP. That’s electronic voice phenomenon. We may also bring a Spirit Box. It uses radio signals to allow a spirit to communicate if it wishes.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “The machine sweeps through stations continuously, and the spirit can manipulate them to create words and phrases. You’ve watched the shows ... it’s the thing that makes them sound like a robot. It can be creepy, but it’s effective.”

  “What about the machine that shows the stick figures?”

  “I think you mean the 3D mapping camera. Is there anything else you have questions about?”

  “None you could answer without investigating. I just want this taken care of, so I can put it behind me and move forward.” Her voice wavered.

  Reaching over the table, he covered her hands with his. “You’re no longer alone in this, Daize. We want the same goal. I can’t promise you it’ll be an easy fix, but we will be there for you every step of the way.”

  Her full lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile with a crooked eyetooth. The sight stole his breath. Stressed and scared, she was still stunning. He was dazzled.

  Chapter Two

  Micah

  Micah pulled the black peacoat tighter as the wind tugged at whatever it could reach. The massive stone building loomed in front of them. Four stories of solid brick with turrets and molding along the edges that reminded him of a castle. The base was white, and the rest was a candy brick broken up with Gothic molding. The older detailing gave the exterior a majestic appearance. Daize agreed to meet them here at nine o’clock. They’d arrived early to get a feel for the property. He craned his neck.

  The moonlight shone down on the building, highlighting its beauty. The chill that settled over him could’ve been from the weather. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked the perimeter, opening his senses, and observing the wooded area surrounding them. Nothing. He turned to Carl who trailed behind him.

  “Anything?” Micah asked.

  “Not yet. It’s quiet. Perhaps unnaturally so in a building this old.”

  Micah cocked his head to the side and studied the building again. “You think it’s hiding?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Carl said.

  “That would make this thing intelligent.”

  “Yes, I believe we’re dealing with more than a residual haunting given the activity.”

  “I’m worried it might be an inhuman spirit as well, my friend.” Micah had learned to hear the things the quiet man didn’t say. They were supposed to remain objective, but facts were facts. It took a hell of a lot of energy to move things. If Daize hadn’t been exaggerating, a lot of power had been exerted. It hadn’t attempted to hurt her yet. He cleared his head of speculation. He needed to go into this with no expectations.

  He finished the walk around. His phone vibrated and her name appeared on the screen.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, I’m here in the parking lot.”

  “We were walking the perimeter. I’ll meet you and introduce you to the team, and then you can take me up to your apartment.”

  “Should you enter alone?”

  “It’s important I put away anything that could influence our medium as he does a walk through. I’ve kept the conversation we had between us to allow the crew to remain objective. They only know the bare basics of this case.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her voice is shaky.

  “Daize. It’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath, and remember you have a whole team of people here working for you. We’re all in this together, okay?”

  “I remember.” Her voice sounded calmer and more confident. The effect that he had on her pleased him.

  “I’m coming around now, which car is yours?”

  “You can’t miss it. It’s the aquamarine Mini Cooper.”

  “Of course it is, beach lover.”

  “I’m half Hawaiian, and my father was a pro surfer. It’s in my blood.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  Mission accomplished. He’d always been good at distraction. As one of five, he’d learned early on it was easier than the more direct approach his eldest brother, Luka, took. “See you in a few.”

  He spotted the car with the starfish along the top of the front window and a mermaid pendant hanging from the rearview mirror. She stepped out of the car warily.

  “Hi, Daize. This is my team ... Brendon and Maria are the ones who started the team. Eric and Scott are our technical gurus and cameramen, Mel and Trisha our are spiritual advisors, and Carl is our medium. Guys, this is Daize.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Daize said quietly.

  “I told her we’d go in before you, Carl.”

  Carl nodded his head in understanding.

  “If y
ou’re ready to let us inside of your place now we can get things started,” Micah told her, as he studied the curvy woman who stood a few inches shorter than him at about five foot nine or ten inches. A range of emotions crossed her face before she settled on determination. Her jaw twitched as she squared her shoulders and held her head high. Eyes flashing, she looked like a queen with her high cheekbones adding to her regal bearing.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  “You heard the lady. Trish, will you join us please?”

  “Yes, sir.” Trish saluted, and Micah mentally rolled his eyes. They were all silently cheering him on. It meant the world, but he had to keep things professional.

  “After you, Daize.”

  She closed and locked her door with the key fob before striding forward into the building. He studied the security measures. It took a code to open the front door. It buzzed when she entered the correct combination and clicked behind them. They walked down the well-lit hall to the third door on the left. The walls were thick, or her neighbors were quiet. Clean wood flooring covered with a runner of light blue carpet with wavy brown lines running through it helped create a peaceful environment.

  A burlap wreath with light blue ribbon, sand dollars, sea stars, and teal ribbon with golden scales held a blue sign with ‘Life’s a Beach’ on it in white writing greeted them.

  “I’m sensing a theme here,” Trish said.

  “I don’t know what you mean, madam,” Daize deadpanned.

  Micah smirked as he gently took the wreath off its hook. “We don’t want Carl to be influenced by anything.”

  Daize unlocked the door and hesitated. He met Trish’s gaze over her head and shook his head slowly. She needed to do this herself. The first step was taking back ownership of her space. Taking a deep breath, Daize stepped across the threshold. A turquoise and light green area rug with a half circle design that mimicked scales and a bright blue sofa brightened up the bland beige carpet and eggshell white walls. Two blue armchairs with white starfish prints were angled on the opposite side of the room with a white cocktail table in the center. Beach themed paintings and photo frames with pictures of family and friends lined the walls.