"Rudeness affected Margaret like a bitter taste in the mouth. It poisoned life. At times, it is necessary, but woe to those who employ it without due need." - Elizabeth Bowen, The Last September.
Jumping out of the warm van into the freezing January air was like stepping into the 9th circle of Hell. I know what you're thinking; isn't Hell hot? In the 14th century epic poem, Inferno, written by Dante Alighieri, the 9th circle of Hell was a frozen wasteland ruled by the truly damned, and occupied by the most tortured souls. So...accurate for the situation. While it was not raining at the moment, it had been on and off for most of the day, so the grass was still wet as I slipped a couple of times trying to follow the rest of the team to the house.
I crossed my arms over my chest desperate for my own body heat as I glanced around at my surroundings to distract myself from how cold it was. We were in a normal suburban neighborhood, where all the houses looked the same and were all lined close together. The driveway of the house we had come to was only big enough to fit one car, so Richard had to park the van on the side of the street. That wasn't a big deal because it looked like other people with more than one vehicle had to do the same. The house we were about to investigate was the type of home that one would picture in their dream of having the typical family with their perfect children and spouse. It had dark blue siding with white trim, that matched all the other houses in the neighborhood. There was an area in front of the porch where there normally would have been the perfect garden, but since it was the middle of winter, most of the plants were dead. There was even a white picket fence on both sides of the home. I wondered how a house that looked so normal, could really be haunted. Although, what had I expected to see? Had I expected the cliché haunted house I used to see in picture books as a child? You know, the houses that looked completely abandoned, surrounded by leafless trees, with a ghost's head sticking out of one of the broken windows? Or perhaps there should have been a black cat standing outside next to a witch stirring a cauldron.
That's the thing though; things are not always as they seem. Homes can look warm and friendly. People can seem happy; their lives can look perfect to outsiders. They look normal until you get to know them and discover all the unpleasant parts you wish you hadn't. Too bad we don't get a warning. I wish I had one before I walked in that house because I had no idea how unpleasant my night was about to get. We followed Richard up the concrete steps to the front door, where he knocked a few times. Waiting in the cold and shivering, I chanced another glance at Nick. Hands in his pockets and looking sullen, he stared down at his feet as he kicked a couple rocks into the grass. His head suddenly snapped up and his eyes fell on me. It was as if he had felt me staring at him. The Nick I had been laughing and joking with only a couple hours earlier seemed to have disappeared completely. There was certainly no laughter or joy in those cold, dead eyes.
The front door to the house opened, and Nick and I tore our eyes from each other to look at our host for the evening. In the doorway stood a woman only a couple inches taller than me with long, dark brown hair and dark lifeless eyes. She had the complexion of a sweaty vampire and had a mole on her chin that looked like a chocolate chip, but was certainly not as delightful as one. While her demeanor was one of a basement-coffin-dwelling-creature from a Stephen King novel, her attire was completely different. She wore bright purple leggings, a neon orange skirt, and a t-shirt with the Joker from Batman on it . . . the Heath Ledger version, not Jared Leto. Her clothes were like the outside of her house; it seemed cheerful and friendly, but the harder you looked, you knew you were about to find something undesirable that the exterior was trying to hide.
"Are you the paranormal investigators?" It sounded like a demand, rather than a question.
"Karen, right?" Richard said, holding out his hand to shake hers.
"You're late," she said, ignoring Richard's extended hand. "You said you would be here at 7 o' clock."
Axl looked at his watch. "It's 7:05. We're only five minutes late."
Karen's wide eyes fell on him and narrowed. I think anyone else would have shrunk under her gaze, but Axl remained unfazed. It was then that I noticed she had something in her hands. I thought it was a dead squirrel, and I gasped and took a step back. Her gaze fell on me. It took another quick look to see she had her hands full of poop-colored-yarn. Dangling from her crochet hook was something she had been in the middle of working on. I couldn't tell what it was, but perhaps I had been close with the squirrel theory and she had been crocheting a deceased rodent.
She continued to stare at me for way too long. I had only known her less than a minute, and I already noticed she had a habit of staring at people for longer than was socially acceptable. I wondered how many people she made uncomfortable on a daily basis.
"We apologize for being a little late," Richard said. He was much nicer than I could ever be.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm such a laid-back person, or I would be mad," Karen said. Normally a statement like that was meant to be sarcastic, but I'm sure she was dead serious. "Well, come in." She turned and walked inside, the dead squirrel's tail trailing behind her.
We followed Richard one by one into the small, cramped kitchen. The cleanliness could be compared to Brandon's maintenance of our kitchen. It was spot-free, crumb-free, and smelled of bleach and blueberry muffins. She had either just cooked and cleaned, or she had just served up bleach-filled muffins. Both scenarios seemed possible. What mattered most to me was that it was much warmer inside, which made squirrel-lady a little more tolerable.
"Uh, could you all wipe your feet? You're tracking mud on my floor," Karen said, eyeing her precious kitchen tile.
I said a little more tolerable. Not a lot. Grudgingly, we all went back to the doormat to try to wipe our wet shoes off the best we could.
"There's still mud prints on the tile, but I guess I'll just clean that later. I'm laid back, so it doesn't matter right now."
It seemed to me if she were as laid back as she claimed to be, she wouldn't have to keep telling us she was. As we gathered around squirrel-lady in the kitchen, I heard light footsteps that sounded like someone small was running. A small boy wearing Batman pajamas came from around the corner and took a couple steps in the kitchen. He had fiery red hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles. He looked to be around 6 or 7 years old. His eyes grew wide when he saw the new strange people in his house and he quickly grabbed onto his mother's legs for comfort.
"Oh, this is my son Tommy," she said, trying to shake him off.
I instantly felt uncomfortable. I was not good with kids at all. While most people knew what to say and do around them, I was quite different. If I ever found myself alone in a room with a kid, I would either bolt out of there, or if I had no escape route, I would sit uncomfortably, trying to interact with them as little as possible. I felt very strongly about the fact that I was never having any smelly, sticky, poopy rugrats of my own. I would never be mean to a child, but I knew I could never take care of one.
"Oh, my god! He's so cute!" Ruby squealed. "Shawn, isn't he cute?!"
I looked around, confused as to why she had addressed me specifically out of all the other people in the room. It hit me that since I was female, or rather, the proud owner of a vagina, I was supposed to automatically be charmed by this boy while also finding him absolutely fucking adorable.
"Um, yeah," I said, quickly, trying to force a smile.
I heard Brandon cough, and I could have sworn it had sounded suspiciously like an attempt to cover up a snicker. He knew my feelings on kids quite well.
"He's like a mini Ron Weasley," I said. Noticing the blank, confused expressions on everyone's face, I continued, "You know, from Harry Potter? Harry Potter's best friend with the red hair? Never mind," I said, looking down at my feet as I felt my face flush.
Did any of these people read? If Karen had a cat, I would have been able to come up with something better to say. I would have interacted with it more. Cats are the creatures that are fucking adorable. They are also usually more dignified and clean. . . majestic, actually.
"Well," Richard said, breaking the awkward silence. I'm pretty sure I saw a shadow of an amused grin on his face. "Is your husband here?"
"No. Every other week he goes away on business trips. So, it's just us . . . and whatever else is here," she said, looking around as if something might suddenly pop out of the ceiling.
"Okay. Well, I'm Richard, and this is Brandon, Nick, Axl, Shawn, and Ruby," Richard said, pointing to each of us since we had all lined ourselves up like an identity parade for a police investigation. "We're going to investigate your home tonight and see what we can find. Then we'll go about seeing what we can do to help you out here."
"I already know that. That's the whole reason why I emailed you," Karen said.
Richard raised his eyebrows but chose to ignore her rude comment. "Why don't you go over everything again that has been happening, then . . ."
"Don't you already know all that? Didn't you read email?" she said, starting to crochet the dead squirrel in her hands aggressively.
"Of course, but . . ."
"They why do I need to go over it again?" Richard closed his eyes, as if willing himself to have patience.
"We're trying to help you out here, lady," Nick blurted out.
She fixed her wide-eyed gaze on him again. "Why is your shirt so wrinkled? And why are his pants so big?" she said, nodding to Axl. "Aren't you all professionals? That doesn't look professional at all."
Seeing the shocked looks on Nick and Axl's faces, I was torn between amusement and anger.
"You all act like you don't know what you're doing at all."
"I assure you we know exactly what we are doing," Richard said. "I am simply informing you of what we will be doing, even if you already know. I just thought it would be weird to walk in your house and start setting up cameras without so much as a 'hello'. If we did that, you couldn't be sure whether we were paranormal investigators or a crew setting up for an adult film."
I clapped a hand over my mouth to suppress a chuckle. Ruby did the same, while Brandon and Axl looked away trying to hide the sheepish looks on their faces. Nick still looked sullen and seemed to think staring at his shoes was much more fascinating than Richard giving lip to our rude host. Karen, on the other hand, stopped crocheting the squirrel and stared hard at Richard.
"I am also asking that you give us a tour of your home while explaining where and when everything happened. We want to be clear on where to set up our equipment to ensure we get the evidence we need to help you," Richard went on. "Now, please show us the rooms that have the most activity, or we could just leave if you think we don't know what we're doing."
I thought Karen might throw the squirrel at Richard. Even Tommy was looking back and forth between his mother and us with wide scared eyes. She threw the squirrel on the kitchen table instead of at one of us.
"Like I said in my email," she said gritting her teeth, "when we first moved here two months ago, I heard odd sounds occasionally, but about a week ago, the worst of it happened here in the kitchen. My husband, Tommy, and I were all sitting down for breakfast before Tommy was supposed to go to school. The room got cold. The kitchen lights started flickering on and off. We thought there was some sort of electrical problem, but then all the cabinets started opening and closing all on their own. I saw Tommy's chair rise off the ground a few inches. He was terrified. The chair dropped, but then my husband's chair was knocked completely backwards. He was in the floor screaming that someone had pushed him backwards."
"I know this might sound like a weird question, but may I ask what you all had been talking about right before that activity happened?" Richard asked her.
"Why is that any of your business?"
"Spirits can be provoked by specific things; like certain topics of conversation, high emotions, or even arguments," Brandon spoke up. "That's why he's asking."
"Oh," she said. "My husband and I were arguing."
"About what?" Ruby asked, displaying her quality of having very little tact.
I was not surprised by the information that squirrel-lady and her husband had been arguing. If the husband was normal, I'm sure she was not easy to get along with. On the other hand, if he were just as weird as her, maybe they were arguing about which dead animal she should crochet next.
"I was telling him that he needs to help out around here more often."
"Okay, thank you for being honest with us," Richard said. "Can you show us the other areas of the house where there has been activity?"
Without a word, Karen turned and walked into the next room with Tommy trailing behind her. The rest of us exchanged bewildered looks before we followed. Upon entering the living room, I noticed there were quite a few paintings on the walls. Some of them were of nature scenes, with trees, leaves, or pumpkins. Others were of small creatures such as butterflies, rabbits, or cats. However, the most eye-catching were ones of random naked women. They weren't too graphic; I just saw a lot of butts and hands covering boobs. I would say I was impressed, but it looked like a child had painted them...and I had a feeling it wasn't Tommy.
There were also several paintings of Karen herself. I wondered what kind of person paints so many portraits themselves, then puts them up on the wall. The first word that came to mind was narcissist. There were also a lot of blankets thrown on every couch and chair which were crocheted with the ugliest colors possible: dog-shit-brown, cat-puke-green, and burnt-ass-cheek-orange. I guess that dead rodent Karen had left behind in the kitchen was actually the makings of the next living-room-couch-blanket.
"The TV turns itself on and off a lot. I figured it was just a malfunction, but after everything that has been happening, I'm not so sure," Karen said. "This is also where I normally hear a male voice when my husband isn't home."
"What does it usually say?" Axl asked, leaning against the arm of a recliner as he crossed his arms.
"Can you not lean on my furniture? It might break," Karen said, glaring at him.
The chair looked perfectly sturdy to me, and Axl wasn't even a big guy. Looking irritated, he immediately stood up straight again.
"As cliché as it sounds for a supposedly haunted house, I swear I heard the voice telling me to get out. I've also heard several curse words."
I had to hold my tongue. I had the urge to ask her if the TV was on when this happened, but I thought that might be rude... not that I should care how pleasant I was to her considering how rude she had already been to us. Karen then turned and started down a long hallway.
Following behind the rest of the group, Axl leaned close to me and whispered, "I thought she said she was laid back."
"Yeah well, some people have a very distorted outlook of themselves that is completely different to how everyone else sees them," I whispered back as we came to the end of the hall.
"The door on the right is mine and my husband's room. I haven't experienced anything in there, except hearing sounds out in the hallway. I used to think it was Tommy walking around, but when I would get up and check on him, he would be sound asleep in his bed. This is his room," she said, walking into the bedroom right across from her own.
Tommy stopped right outside the doorway while the rest of us remained in the hall able to see inside. It was a normal little kid's bedroom. He had a bed against the wall in the center of the room with sheets that matched his Batman pajamas. His dresser and toys were pushed to one side, and on the opposite side of the room was a closet with clothes spilling out of it.
"I am NOT going in there!" Tommy said.
Karen sighed, "He's been sleeping with me and my husband since he refuses to go in there now."
Ruby knelt next to Tommy. "Hi, Tommy. I'm Ruby. Can you tell me why you don't like this room?"
I was always impressed with people who could talk and interact with kids with ease. I somehow knew Ruby would be good at it.
"There's a man in there," he said, pointing into the room.
"Is he there now?"
"No. He shows up at night. He's angry and scary."
"Does he ever say anything?" Tommy shook his head.
"I used to think he was just dreaming," Karen said.
"It's not a dream!" Tommy said, stamping his foot.
"I know that now," she said rolling her eyes at her scared kid. This is mom of the year, folks.
"And then there's the basement," Karen said.
"Where's that?" Brandon asked.
"Follow me."
She walked past all of us and we followed her back into the kitchen. There was a door on the left as soon as we entered that I had originally thought was a closet to keep cleaning or kitchen supplies in, but when she opened the door, we saw a long set of stairs leading down.
"I'm not going down there, either," Tommy said.
"I can't just leave you up here by yourself," Karen said.
"I'll stay with him if you want," Ruby offered.
Tommy immediately ran to Ruby and grabbed her hand. Ruby smiled warmly at the boy. She led Tommy to the kitchen table, where they both sat down. Karen shrugged, then started down the steps to the basement. The rest of the team started down the steps. I made it to the doorframe and froze. I watched as the rest of them carelessly made their way down the steps. I stared at them, clutching each side of the doorframe with my hands, unable to move. I could feel panic building up inside me. I could hardly breathe.
"Shawn? Are you coming?" Brandon said, looking up at me from the bottom of the steps.
I glanced back at Ruby and Tommy. I had a choice. . . go into the basement, or stay with a kid. I looked back down at Brandon and the rest of the guys staring at me. I felt my heart racing, slamming against my chest. I closed my eyes and heard something that sounded far away. . . Someone was yelling. The sound was muffled. A little girl screaming. Fists beating on the door.
"Shawn? Shawn!" My eyes flew open and I saw the irritated faces of Richard, Nick, Axl, and Brandon staring up at me.
"Are you coming or not?" Axl shouted up at me.
"Is there something wrong with her? Like mentally?" Karen said, looking up at me with her huge eyes.
Nick shuffled his feet and turned his head away. I thought I saw an evil smirk on his face. That was certainly not helping things.
"I'm fine. I'm coming. Sorry," I said.
I took a deep breath and started down the stairs, gripping the handrail tight. I tried my best to keep my breathing steady while I kept telling myself that bloody-neck-ladies didn't exist. That was just the creative imagination of a nine year old, possibly making up a metaphor for the way she really felt at the time. Ghosts weren't real. So going into this basement was going to be fine. I was going to be okay.
"Just the past week it has sounded like someone has been down here. I've heard footsteps walking up and down the stairs, and it sounds like someone is hammering something sometimes," Karen said, as I finally made it to the bottom of the stairs.
I stood next to Axl, while glancing around the basement, making sure there wasn't anyone else in there with us.
"Hammering?" Richard said.
"Yes, like someone is building something."
As we stood there something strange happened. I suddenly felt excruciating, radiating pain all over my body. My skin felt like it was on fire. I gasped and doubled over. Not only was I in unbearable pain, but I also had the sudden urge to hit someone. Just as fast as the pain and mood swing came, it was gone. I took a deep breath and looked up to see everyone staring at me.
"Shawn, are you okay?" Brandon asked.
"Yeah, sorry," I said quickly. "It's just a headache. Sharp pain. I'm okay."
I didn't know how to explain what happened to me. A lie seemed appropriate, since no one else seemed to feel what I had. Despite my assurance I was fine, Brandon was still eyeing me with concern. Axl looked disinterested as he continued to look around the basement for signs of the dead. Nick looked as irritated as he normally did, but Richard looked at me curiously. Karen gave me a blank stare, then proceed back up the stairs. She was obviously not concerned about my well-being.
As the others followed her, I looked around the basement again, hoping to find some logical reason as to what had happened to me. I remembered Nick telling me earlier that day that EMF waves could make some people feel weird, but he said you would only feel paranoid, dizzy, nauseous, or anxious. Feeling like you were being flayed alive while wanting to murder someone was not on his list of symptoms. I told myself maybe I was going into early menopause and that was an extreme hot flash. Pretense and the possibility I wouldn't have to worry about ever getting pregnant killed two birds with one stone.
Realizing I was alone in the creepy basement, I booked it up the stairs. Tommy and Ruby were seated at the kitchen table talking, while the rest of the group gathered around Karen.
"Okay, I think we're going to go ahead and get set up here," Richard said. "If you don't mind, we need the house to be as quiet as possible during the investigation. Do you all have somewhere you could stay the night, or maybe be for a few hours?"
"Are you asking me to leave six strangers alone in my house for several hours?"
"Well, yes," Richard said.
"Why, so you can rob me? Do you all just prey on people who are legitimately scared so you can rob their homes?"
"You know where we work," Nick spoke up. "Why would we rob you, when you could easily call the cops and tell them where we are? That's stupid."
"Not helping, Nick," Brandon said.
"No way. I am not leaving. You all must think I'm crazy," Karen said.
"Yep," I mumbled quietly. Axl, who had been standing beside me, gave a quiet snort of laughter.
I couldn't understand how someone could be so rude and ungrateful when we were trying to help her. From the moment we walked in, she had been completely unappreciative. I was already starting to hate my new job. If I wanted to be treated like crap, I could have just gone back to being a waitress like I had right out of high school. Waitresses have to put up with all kinds of unnecessary mistreatment.
Richard glanced back in our direction. "Axl," he said quietly. Axl's eyes met Richard's, and Richard gave a jerk of his head in Karen's direction, to which Axl nodded, then took a step forward.
"Karen," Axl said gently, "we aren't going to rob you. I can promise you that."
"Hmmph," she huffed.
"I would be concerned, too. You don't know us. You're just trying to protect your family, then six strangers come tracking mud into your home," he went on, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.
Her stony gaze shifted to his hand, and I thought for sure she was going to stab him with a blunt crochet hook. She did no such thing, though, and remained silent.
"I, Axl Harrison, promise you that nothing will be taken or broken, but if you still have concerns, you can stay. You and Tommy can hang out outside, or in the van, if that's cool with you. I'm just concerned for you guys sitting out there in that cold for so many hours. It's freezing and supposed to storm tonight."
She stared at him hard for a moment. "Fine. We'll go. But do not touch anything."
"What the fuck was that?" I said to Axl as we walked out of the house a few minutes later. "Are you the bitch-whisperer?"
Axl smirked, "I have a way with women."
I heard Ruby snort behind us.
"Axl has a way of convincing people to do things they don't want to do," Brandon said.
"That's for sure," Ruby said.
"He said things they DON'T want to do, Ruby; not things they've always had a secret desire to do," Axl said.
I looked back at Ruby, who had stopped dead in her tracks. She opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but Axl picked up his pace and left her in the dust. The look on his face as he walked away told me he was pretty pleased with himself.
Karen took Tommy to spend the night in a motel. I was not surprised she wasn't going to stay with a friend, because something told me she didn't have any. After they left, we began to unload the equipment from the van so we could start setting things up in the house. I kept glancing at Nick, who still looked pissed off at the world.
"Hey," I said, grabbing his arm and stopping him beside the van. "Are you okay?"
Holding a huge box, he still managed to shake my hand off his arm. Motivation is always key in accomplishing any task.
"I'm fine."
"You don't seem fine. Is there something wrong? Can I help?"
"I said I'm fine, Shawn!"
The rest of the team who just happened to be walking by, stopped and looked at us in surprise.
"Okay, I just . . ."
"Look, just because you helped me make Jackie jealous yesterday, doesn't mean we are suddenly best friends," he said. He was clutching the box so hard his knuckles were white. Perhaps he was imagining it was my neck.
"I didn't think we had gotten that far, but . . ."
"But nothing. I shouldn't have even told you that bullshit about my ex, either. It wasn't even true, you know. I was just making up some shit to see if you would believe it, and you did."
I felt my face burning with embarrassment. I hoped the rest of the team wasn't still standing there staring at us. I couldn't bring myself to look at them.
"What? Why would you . . . "
"Can we just get through this night with as little interaction as possible?" he said.
"I . . ."
Before I could respond, he stormed off toward the house. I watched him disappear through the front door before I finally made myself look back to see if the others had stuck around to witness the scene. Luckily, they made themselves scarce once they realized another argument had broken out between Nick and I. I couldn't blame them. It would be like willingly doing something unpleasant like watching a lion attacking its weaker prey, eating a goat's balls, or listening to Nickelback.
I slowly made my way back to the van. I used all my strength to pull myself up into it since I didn't have Nick's help this time, nor would I ever again in the foreseeable future. I sat with my legs hanging off the edge, staring at my hands, breathing hard, and desperately trying to fight back tears. I was getting sick of being angry and hurt just because of something Nick Chase said to me. While I didn't think we were going to be best friends after being his fake-girlfriend, I hoped we could at least get along. Things seemed good between us back at the office earlier when he was showing me the equipment. We had been laughing and joking around. What happened between then and the moment he had fallen silent in the van on the way over to the house? And why had he told me he made the stuff up about Jackie? He was making it clear that the two of us ever getting along was not going to happen any time soon. I felt like a fool for believing it, even for a second.
"Hey, are you okay?" I looked up to see Ruby in her bright pink hoodie approaching the van.
I quickly wiped a stray tear away, hoping she hadn't seen. "I'm fine."
She walked over and hopped up into the van to sit next to me. "Don't take it personally. Nick is still upset about his break-up, and you just happen to be the person he's taking it out on."
"That's not really fair, is it?"
"No, it's not. I'm not saying it's okay. I'm just trying to tell you it's not really you he's upset with," Ruby said, swinging her long legs back and forth.
"I just don't need this right now. The rest of my life has already fallen apart, and now I have some random coworker-ass-bagel who hates me," I said.
"He doesn't hate you. I know things will get better," she assured me.
"You know this? When did you get so wise?"
"I know people think I'm stupid, but I do give great advice sometimes."
"I don't think you're stupid!"
"I know, but some people do," she said, pushing back a stray blonde hair out of her eyes and looking back toward the house where Richard, Axl, Brandon, and Nick were walking out to come get more equipment.
"Don't listen to those llama-fuckers," I told her.
Ruby giggled as I turned to stare across the yard. The sun was going down and it was almost completely dark. The street lights were already on, and everything seemed too peaceful compared to the way I felt. It was the false tranquility before the damn cyclone. That thought made me feel uneasy as I glanced back toward the house that now looked foreboding. The wind kicked up a bit, increasing the chill in my bones and my deep sense of dread. I heard the guys' footsteps approaching the van, so I looked down at the wet ground to avoid any eye contact with my new archenemy.
"Are you just going to sit there, or are you actually going to do anything useful?" the grand-ass-hat said.
I looked up at him, not even able to conjure up the energy to try to defend myself. I suddenly felt very tired and heavy. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again, which I knew were probably already red and puffy. For a split second, his expression seemed to change. I thought I might be hallucinating for a moment because he looked almost guilty. Or, if he had been anyone else in the group, I would have called it concern. I knew that couldn't be right, since he had proved he wasn't capable of such feelings.
"Nick, chill out," Brandon warned him.
"Yeah, Nick. Stop being such a llama-fucker," Ruby said.
Nick looked at her incredulously, clearly taken aback by her strange insult. However, he didn't say another word as he pulled himself up into the van to grab the rest of the equipment.
"You can help me set up the stuff here in the van. We have a couple of laptop computers that two of us watch. It's like a live feed while the others are investigating so the house isn't so crowded having all of us in there. If we see something the others don't, we can have them take a look at it," Ruby said. "We just run some extension cords to the house to keep them going."
There was plenty of room in the back of the van to set up a folded table and a couple of chairs that had been stored in the corner. Ruby and I set up the two laptops on the table, while the rest of the team finished setting everything else up inside the home.
"Okay, everyone. Gather around," Richard said.
Ruby and I returned to our seats on the edge of the van with our legs dangling off, while the rest of the group made their way over.
"Okay, for partners tonight; I think Ruby and I will be in the van first watching the live cameras. We have our walkie talkies to let you all know if we see something."
I had a sinking feeling about where this whole partner thing was going. I started silently praying to a god I didn't believe in that I was wrong.
"Brandon and Axl can start in the basement," Richard went on.
"Oh, fuck me," I said under my breath.
"And Shawn and Nick, start in the kitchen, then make your way to Tommy's room."
Nick let out a heavy sigh that turned into a growl halfway through. I shot him a glare, and he returned the favor.
"And remember; NEVER go anywhere alone. You must always have your partner with you," Richard said. "Let's get started."
Nick, Brandon, and Axl headed toward the house. Ruby gave me a look of sympathy before standing up and moving to sit in front of one of the laptops set up in the van. I was furious at how unfair the situation kept becoming. Determined not to put up with it anymore, I jumped down from the van and immediately marched over to Richard.
"Why do you keep pairing me with Nick?" I demanded. "You know we don't get along, but you keep doing it anyway."
He smirked, "Why do YOU think I keep pairing you two up?"
The amused look on his face and the lack of answer pissed me off even more. I was finding it very hard not to start yelling at him, but I figured that wouldn't be a good way to impress my boss on the first night of a real investigation. I was already finding it hard to remove my normal F-bombs from the conversation.
"Are you one of those people who answers questions with more questions?"
"Do you think I am?"
"Really funny. Just forget it," I said, starting to walk off.
"I know you and Nick will eventually get along the longer you spend time together," he called after me.
I stopped mid-stride and turned back to face him, "You know this? Why is everyone so certain about things lately?"
"Why aren't you?"
I let out a groan of frustration, then turned once again and to storm off toward the house. I could hear him chuckling behind me. When I got to the front door, I stood taking deep breaths, trying to gather my thoughts. I needed to calm down so that I would be able to handle a full night of Nick. I reached for the door knob, but it flew open and almost hit me.
"Hey!" I cried out.
Nick popped his head out. "Are you coming in, or not?!"
It was going to be a long fucking night.