Haunter 1: The Shadow of the Haunter

10. Good News

It was a sleepless night, trying in vain to find a credible source of information about binding spells or whatever. I gave up about an hour before sunrise, and left a note for Susan not to come upstairs until I got up. No wonder the first thing she did in the morning was come to dust and vacuum the master bedroom, right next door. And in order to vacuum the whole rug, she asked Mike to help her move all the furniture.

So I woke up only two hours after falling asleep, to loud noises like I had a frigging construction crew working right by my bed. Exhausted and still upset about the whole basement situation, just hearing Susan's voice triggered a homicidal fury I'd never known I had in me. I strode to the master bedroom and pulled the vacuum plug roughly. Susan turned around, surprised.

"Didn't you see the note I left you on the fridge?" I growled, definitely sick and tired of her.

"Good morning, Miss Garner. Yes, I saw it. But it's Wednesday, and this room is to be dusted on Wednesdays."

"Says who?" My question took her aback and I wasn't in the mood to give her any chance, so I pointed at the hallway. "Out."

"Excuse me?"

"This is my house and I'm telling you to leave. So leave."

She stiffened and looked me up and down, taking offense like that trick had worked on me before.

"You're not entitled to give me orders. Especially not in such a rude way."

"If you don't leave the house now, you're fired."

"What? I don't work for you, Miss: I work for the Blotter family."

I think she regretted those words later, because the moment she said that, the Blotters decided to show their mind. The vacuum started by itself despite being unplugged, the heavy closet doors slammed open and the temperature dropped about twenty degrees in a heartbeat.

I raised my eyebrows. "Feel like putting that to the test, Susan?" I nodded to the hallway. "Leave, and don't set foot in the Manor again unless I tell you so. From now on, you're gonna play by my rules or you ain't playing anymore. Make up your mind. This was your last warning."

Susan pretty much scampered out of the room. The moment she left, the vacuum stopped and the temperature raised back to normal.

"Thank you," I muttered, sweaty and agitated, my chest burning.

Violence, physical or verbal, is always violence, and I loathed having been pushed to such an extent. I heard the backdoor slamming shut, felt the light cold weight on my shoulder and tried to breathe deep.

"Thanks," I repeated, rubbing my face.

I dragged my feet back to my room. I dropped myself flat on the mattress, my heart still pounding in my chest, shaking a little. Plain to see I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. I felt the nightstand for my phone and checked the time. Nine-thirty. Shit. Maybe a shower would help me at least calm down. I was sitting up when my phone rang. Now what?

I was surprised to see it was Trisha. She never got up before eleven: the treat of working the afternoon shift.

"Hey, Fran! I found someone who can help you," was her merry greeting.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Three different psychics referred me to a big-time medium. Looks like she's the witch all Boston witches turn to for help and advice. I've already talked to her and she's really cool. I'm sending you her number. She'll be waiting for your call."

Thank God for Trisha! "I really owe you, Trish."

"A weekend at your new place would make us even."

"Ha! There's always a catch!"