The Return of the Ghost Hunter

by AmandaFaye

Carolyn and Daniel have to get rid of Paul Wilkie, again. From this Day On universe

Disclaimer: I do not own the canon characters, places, etc. Others, belong to either Tabitha, or Amanda, or LindenC. This is part of the From this Day On Universe. Thank you, Mary, for help, proofing, idea bouncing, and writing the recap of the series episode, Ghost Hunter. No infringement, libel, slander, or other forms of toe stepping are intended. Be kind.

Return of the Ghost Hunter

Amanda

Mid February, 1981

Since Daniel Gregg was immune to the cold, he took it upon himself to do the essential errands for his wife in town on days like this one, when the wind was strong enough to create 'small car alerts,' making the chill factor unbearable to mortal flesh. He just had to remember to appear to be disturbed by the air's bite when he encountered mortals, such as the woman he now addressed in the veterinary office.

"Don't worry, Helen," he assured the vet's wife. "I'll be fine. My transportation is quite well suited to the driving conditions. Now, was it every day, or every other day that Dakota is supposed to take these horse pills?"

"Half a Fillaribit every other day," she smiled.

"Very good. Should be easier to get them down her than the whole thing." Pocketing the brown bottle, he decided to step next door to see how the 'people doctor' was doing, since it looked like she had only one client parked in front of her office. While the ghost did like Dr. Lynne and she was family, a visit could also give him an unobtrusive place from which to pop home.

As he opened the door to her office, Daniel saw that she was sitting in the waiting room, facing the door while talking to a man who had his back to the entrance. Something about the man looked familiar.

Lynne looked up as the Captain entered, an amused look on her face alerting him that something interesting might be taking place.

"Good morning, Mister Miles," she called out with a wink. "I think you'll be interested in my guest here." So saying, she arose, leaving her visitor no choice but to follow suit if he wanted to be polite.

Seeing the stranger full on, Daniel realized who it was. Had he not been working on controlling his temper for the last dozen years or so, there might have been a sudden, unseasonable thunderstorm.

"Mr. Wilkie was just telling me," Linden informed the Captain, "that he can spot a ghost a mile off."

"Oh?" Daniel raised one eyebrow just as the door behind him swung open. Fortunately, it was another ghost.

"Doctor! I really must insist... oh, hello, Danny," Lord Dashire began.

"Charlie, I have a guest," Lynne snapped. Then, modulating her testy tone, she repeated what she had just said.

"Fascinating," the late nobleman drawled, quirking one brow.

Paul Wilkie, the ghost hunter that Daniel had run off over a decade ago, reddened under the two gentlemen's scrutiny. "Ah, yes, well. It's a little known fact that ghosts are all over the place. However, they are often mistaken for Martians. I've spent the last ten years working with SETI, searching for traces of intelligent extraterrestrial life, but I don't think there are really little green men running around making circles in cornfields. The distances involved in space travel are entirely too vast for it to be possible, even at warp speed. However, there could be intelligences coming from another plane of existence that people here are mistaking for Martians and other aliens. I'm trying to prove that theory to my bosses at SETI."

"In Schooner Bay?" Daniel asked incredulously, in a rather choked voice.

"Ah, yes. Well, several years back, I was on the trail of one ghost here, but the investigation went nowhere. I had a — a — instrument malfunction. However, in the intervening years, I've developed my own senses to be able to detect spirits. Those won't fail me, whereas a machine, of any kind, cannot work at times. When I was scanning the national papers, I ran across a succession of articles referring to a woman who lived in the 'cursed' house where I met my greatest setback. Those articles cited three spirits living there, proving I was more than right. Now, I just have to get proof." Paul drew himself up proudly. "Thanks to my acute senses, I can almost smell a ghost."

Might consider taking a shower when you get home, old son, Dashire silently projected to Daniel.

"Oh?" Daniel asked, ignoring his friend. "Do you — smell any now?" He fought to keep his lips from twitching.

A look of intense concentration came over Wilkie's face. He turned slowly, eyes closed. "Ahumm. Ahummm." Finally, he stopped. Opening his eyes, the 'scientist' shook his head. "No. None around here. But I'd hardly expect one to be around in the daylight hours."

"Of course, what were we thinking?" Daniel agreed. The dimwit still thinks I'm a blasted owl.

With a look of annoyance, Dash asked, "And how does the good doctor relate to your — quest?"

"I thought that as a scientist, she might have noticed something that common, uneducated senses missed. She is trained, after all, to pick up on subtle clues," Wilkie replied in a tone that one might use on a slow-witted individual.

"But, I've seen nothing out of the ordinary," she chimed in. "Just same old, same old." Which is not exactly normal, but is in line with the usual, she thought. "But, Mr. Wilkie, I fear that we'll have to continue this conversation at some other time. My next two appointments are here, as you can see — and it sounds like Charlie's bad off. Just go on back, gentlemen," she pointed to the door. "There's two free rooms; you can each go change into gowns. I'll be right back as soon as Mr. Wilkie leaves."

The two ghosts found themselves hustled toward the exam rooms with a gentle push. 'Charlie' obligingly coughed a time or two for good measure, but could not resist snickering, "How delightful," under his breath.

After she slammed the door between the exam rooms and the waiting area, Daniel looked at his crewman. "You don't think she really expects—?"

"I doubt it. Pity. Ah well. Is that the blighter you told me about?"

"Yes — and to think our tax dollars are apparently funding his salary!" Daniel shuddered. "And his 'machine' was simply a camera. I did not choose to appear on film — the device worked fine."

A few moments later, Lynne came back to join them. Blowing out a breath, she shook her head. "I guess you two aren't ghosts after all. He didn't seem to have a clue that two specters were standing right in front of him."

"We were too close," Daniel grimaced. "After all, he did say he could detect one a mile away. Idiot. I thought we were done with him after that incident in the sixties."

"You've met before?" Lynne raised one brow.

Daniel shrugged. "Yes. Unfortunately."

"I'd love to hear about it, but stories get long with you guys, and I'm supposed to go over to the elementary school to give a talk for their assembly on health. So — if neither of you need anything, I need to skedaddle."

"I was merely coming in to say good morning and have a place from which to teleport unobserved," Daniel said.

"I did have a reason — your sister is about to be married to the closest thing I have to a son, at present," Dash replied. "I have tried to find out what a suitable gift for them would be, but it's hard to ask such a thing and still surprise them — and the general store does not have a gift registry."

"Whatever's fine. They sort of need everything," Lynne shrugged as she opened a closet to get her coat.

"I want it to be something special, not merely utilitarian," the nobleman scowled.

"They haven't even set a date, so don't get in a dither. Heck, where they'll live is still up in the air," the doctor frowned, trying to pull on her coat one-handed.

"Let me," Dash said.

"I can do it," she replied stiffly.

"I will see you both later. Perhaps you could both drop over to Gull Cottage tonight, so I will only have to tell the story once? Invite the others as well. This does affect all of us," Daniel nodded briskly. "Good day."

As he popped out, Lynne was still arguing with Dash about who got to put the coat on her.

XXX

A moment later, Daniel appeared in Gull Cottage where his wife was baby-sitting Amberly. The child's parents had Jenny's first book-signing in Keystone, her first novel having been published in early December.

"And how are the two prettiest girls in the world — or should I say, universe?" he beamed.

"I'm fine, but the Princess has been impatiently waiting for Captain Grandpa to read the next chapter in that infamous book to her," Carolyn smiled in return, turning her face up for a kiss.

"Oh, really? You haven't missed me at all?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I didn't want to make you too confident."

"Never. I count myself entirely blessed to have such a wife as you. Now, I have a story that beats Mr. Radcliffe," Daniel told her.

"Oh? Did you get Dakota's — er — treat?"

"Yes. It's in the kitchen, along with a fresh pound of coffee, and the tulip bulbs you wanted are in the refrigerator. After I picked all that up, I stopped to see Lynne, just to say hello. She had a most interesting visitor."

"Have those two figured out a few things?" Carolyn asked.

"Not that sort of interesting, my dear. No, she was entertaining an old friend of — Claymore's. One Paul Wilkie. It seems he has gone into government research."

"Oh, no!" Carolyn moaned.

"Oh, yes. He's supposed to be looking for..." Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, "Martians, but thinks that actually, there are none. That Martians are really ghosts. You'd have been proud of me, love."

"I always am."

"I didn't tear him into tiny pieces." He paused. "Yet."

After kissing his cheek, Carolyn giggled. "Martians?"

"I was rather torn," Daniel admitted, tugging his ear. "On whether to demolish him, or laugh."

"Well, if he's skulking around Schooner Bay, we need to let all of your crew know not to do anything... ghostly," Carolyn suggested.

"We never do — in public, and are being more circumspect about it in private until she..." he gestured toward the bassinet, "...can understand why her favorite 'relatives' are so exceptionally gifted."

"Her favorite relatives?" Carolyn raised one brow. "So, her parents, Candy, Jon, Thom, etc, including me, are chopped liver?"

"No, Clay is the only chopped liver. A lily one, at that. Allow me to rephrase. Some of her favorite relatives."

Mollified, Carolyn nodded. "Okay, you may amend your statement, for a kiss." When it was given, she added, "But, I still think the other members of the ethereal set should be warned."

"Dashire knows; he came in after I did. I'll pop in on Sean and Molly later, and I'm sure Lynne will tell Siegfried when he gets back from checking on his horses. So, he will undoubtedly roar in and tell 'baby brother' precisely how to behave. I thought that they could all come by and we could tell them all who Wilkie is, and what he did, then."

"Good idea."

Just as Daniel bent to pick up the baby and resume the book with her, the phone rang.

"Go on. I'll take care of whoever it is," Carolyn waved. "Hello?"

"Carolyn, it's Blackie. I just had the strangest phone call..."

"I'll speak to Tristan..."

"No, it wasn't him, this time." The reverend's smile could be heard through the phone lines. "It was a fellow name of — Wilks?"

"Wilkie."

"Oh, I thought I misheard him Ah. In any case, he wanted to know how many exorcisms I've had to do since coming to Schooner Bay. And had I seen any people that looked like they were there, but really weren't? Then, he started asking about Gull Cottage. I told him that two of my favorite parishioners lived there and as far as I knew were not troubled by spooks. This is quite true. You are not troubled by them."

"It's a long story, Blackwood. If you're free tonight, come on by and Daniel and I will tell everyone at once."

"Okay. The Friday night Bible study was cancelled due to the heater needing to be fixed. Ed won't have it fixed until Saturday morning. So, I'll be there. Seven?"

"Sounds fine."

XXX

Around five, Dave and Jenny arrived to pick up Amberly. When they heard that there was a family meeting about to happen, Jenny simply put down her purse and donned an apron. Martha's arthritis was giving her fits in the cold, so she had stayed home that day, and Carolyn still was not the world's most adept cook.

Around six thirty, everyone else began to arrive. Because of the weather, Adam, Candy, and Thom opted to let Dashire relay any needed information to them. Candy did have some memory of Paul Wilkie, but at the time, she hadn't known that the legendary ghost was more than a legend.

When Blackie came in as the last arrival, it was time for Daniel and Carolyn to recap what had happened the first time the ghost hunter had snuck into their lives.

"Okay, I guess I'll start the questions," Lynne stated, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot placed on the table in front of her. "So who is this guy, Wilkie, other than a person who has all the earmarks of someone who could be as big a pain as Jane Shoemaker?"

Carolyn smiled from where she was seated in the rocking chair, Daniel standing behind her. "I'm hoping not, Lynne. Well, we had only been living here — what, about a month, Daniel?"

"Actually, a little less, dear lady." He looked down at her and stroked her hair. "Only twenty-one days since you had moved in to Gull Cottage at that point. In just three short weeks, as I recall, we had played host to a stranded couple who was eloping and had landed at Gull Cottage during a rainstorm — including arranging for their wedding! I had also managed to trick Claymore into making some repairs at Gull Cottage, at his expense, despite the ridiculous lease he had made Carolyn sign." He stared down at his wife again. "Already, I knew living with you — excuse me..." He smiled at the objection he could see rising to her lips. "Not 'living' with you, love, but sharing space with you and yours was going to be an experience."

"Experience. One of those loaded words, I most say, Danny," Sean said from his station next to Molly, who was seated on the ottoman near the fireplace. "I thought I had heard most of the good stories about this family. I remember you telling me about the honeymoon couple, and Claymore's tight-fistedness is legendary, but I don't remember you mentioning Wilkie. Who is he, and what brings him here — or BACK here, I guess would be more accurate?"

"I was telling you, old friend," Daniel answered. "But I was..."

"...Interrupted," Carolyn continued, tilting back her head and smiling up at her husband. "But as I was saying, Paul Wilkie showed up at Gull Cottage shortly after we moved in. Around the middle of October. I remember the day vividly. It was the first time Daniel actually said out loud that maybe our arrangement might actually work out — us all sharing Gull Cottage. I remember I was just beginning to think that Daniel might tell me our 'trial period' was over when Paul Wilkie showed up at the door. Claymore had brought him over. Wilkie explained that he had paid Claymore a fee..."

"So what else is new?" Tristan asked, rhetorically.

"Nothing," Carolyn grinned, "Wilkie said he was a student of New England architecture and wanted to take some pictures of the house — and explained that they wouldn't be used in any magazine, or anything. I remember I was on deadline at the time — trying to get a story finished, and I decided it was easier to let him take his pictures and leave, rather than argue with him, so I let him in."

"Claymore, too?" Sig asked. "Did he stay and offer the fifty-cent tour for a dollar?"

"Not on your afterlife," Daniel chuckled. "He took off after making sure that Wilkie had wormed his way into Gull Cottage."

Shaking his head, Sig commented, "Hard to believe that even Clay would actually want a ghost hunter in the house. Even back then, I'd think he'd want to deny the whole notion."

"Claymore didn't know Wilkie was looking for ghosts," Carolyn defended the former landlord in his absence. "I really think he was nervous about bringing Wilkie out to take even the architectural type pictures he claimed to want; but we are getting off track here. After Wilkie came in and started taking his pictures, things got more — interesting."

"Interesting hardly covers it," Daniel growled with a glance up at the portrait of himself over the mantelpiece. "The wharf-rat started insulting me — saying I couldn't possibly have designed Gull Cottage, called me eccentric looking and sour-faced, meanwhile he was snapping away with his camera. Finally, after a few more insults, I had had enough; and tripped him with a rug and made Carolyn throw water in his face."

Carolyn snickered at the memory. "You really didn't have to MAKE me, Daniel. I was about ready to do it myself, even without your influence. I didn't know what he was up to then, but I didn't like the idea of him insulting you, even in absentia, not even then. Nobody could yell at MY ghost but me."

Surprised, the Spirit of Gull Cottage grabbed his lady's hand and stroked it.

"Did you really think of me as "your ghost" even then, my love?"

Carolyn turned a bright pink. "I suppose I did, even if I wasn't ready to admit it, even to myself. But..." She looked at the group before her and everyone in the room noticed she did not let go of her husband's hand. "We're getting distracted again. Anyway, Mister Wilkie started talking about a 'very hostile presence' in the house..."

"There WAS," Lord Dashire grinned. "Danny was quite hostile by that time, I'm sure of it!"

Daniel shrugged. "I won't deny that."

"...As I was saying," Carolyn continued. "After a quick tour, ending in the master bedroom, I told Wilkie that he would have to go, as we were all leaving — first for the library, where I could finish some research, and then to the movies. Since we would have to give him a ride back into town, I wanted to get going. Our ghost hunter asked if he could take one more picture, I told him yes, but hurry, and left for the bathroom, or something, I can't remember now, and..."

"...And the blackguard went over to the French windows and unlatched them, so he could come back later!" Daniel cut in again. "I thought I knew then what the fellow was after."

"Still sounds more like a burglar," Blackie put in. "Not someone who was looking for ghosts."

"To be honest, I, too, thought he was a mere robber," Daniel replied, looking down at Carolyn, still seated in the rocking chair. "May I continue with the story at this point, love?" At her nod, he did just that. "Shortly after dark, Wilkie was back. He had rented a car by that time, apparently, and drove out here again, knowing Carolyn, Martha, and the children were still at the movies. He parked his car near your cottage..." he said, giving Sean and Molly a nod. It was vacant at the time — Claymore hadn't rented it to the pill-popper yet. With flashlight in hand, he made his way to Gull Cottage, climbed up to the balcony using the trellis, into our room..."

"It was NOT 'our' room then," Carolyn interjected, wondering how many times she had said that phrase.

"I started making, for want of a better term, 'ghostly noises,' hoping to scare him away," Daniel continued. "But neither moans, nor me making Carolyn's pencil cup rise up off the table... not even when I pinched the fellow — nothing seemed to bother him at all! I should have realized then what he really wanted! The fellow kept asking me to show myself, which of course I didn't do. The rascal got as far as the kitchen before I let him have it."

"You showed yourself?" Jess gasped. "Like you did when I..."

"Heavens, no, my dear," Daniel chuckled again. "I confess, I wasn't quite so... what's the word I am looking for? Adverse to the idea of being known to a lot of people in those days. In Wilkie's case, I'm GLAD I didn't. No — instead, I pelted him with anything I could lay my hands on. Tomatoes, eggs, what have you. Finally, invisibly, I picked him up and dashed him against the door in the kitchen and he passed out. Topping things off, I dumped a can of flour on his head, and departed, certain he would stay knocked out until Carolyn and her family got home, at which time, I assumed they would call the police, who would arrest the rascal."

"I always rather wondered why you didn't stay," Carolyn murmured. "You filling in the blanks... your reasoning makes sense."

"Everything I do makes sense," he responded swiftly, then, receiving a glance from his wife that could only be asking 'What about a certain Admiral, and a well meaning, but entirely bad idea?' he added, "well, almost everything."

"Then what happened?" Molly asked, "Carolyn, you came home after the movies... was he still there? Still unconscious? Did you call the police? How did he explain himself?"

"Yeah, where does the ghost hunter part fit in?" Lynne interrupted.

"We're getting there," Daniel answered, finally letting go of his wife's hand and moving to the coffee table to refill the mug he was holding.

"Right," Carolyn added. "Things started getting hairy after that, really. You see, Daniel wasn't there and couldn't tell me exactly what Paul Wilkie had done, but I sort of got the idea. When we got home that night, we found him where Daniel had left him, on the floor. Jonathan, the only one besides me who knew about Daniel at that point, said 'Captain Gregg must have caught him in the house,' just as he was coming to... I thought Wilkie would be furious, but instead he was thrilled."

"Thrilled!" her audience answered. "What's there to be thrilled about?" Blackie continued. "Terrified, yes, Thrilled? I don't think so. I've always considered myself most fortunate not to be on your bad side, sir."

Carolyn nodded again. "True — he thought being beaten up by invisible hands was wonderful. Martha and I got the kids off to bed, and then I heard the rest of his story. He explained then that he had lied — that he was really a para-psychologist, looking for ghosts, and that he was now certain that Captain Gregg's ghost was still at Gull Cottage. Then, he explained that his real purpose for his visit that he wanted to expand his para-psychology department at the University, and that now he felt he had found enough evidence at Gull Cottage to show his superiors... a Mister Hewett and a Professor... Maxwell, I think his name was, who were on the university school board."

"Took a lot of nerve," Tris commented. I don't think even I would have enough gall to try something like that. But I do wish I'd been there..."

Carolyn sighed at the memory. "I have a hard time believing it at that time, too, but I have learned that the gall of some people is amazing, unstoppable and never-ending. Just look at Jane, if you need a good example. There's more. Mister Wilkie said if I didn't let him bring back the school board and let him show them the house, and look for Captain Gregg... Daniel... blast... the ghost, that he would call every newspaper, television, radio station, the newsreel people... and tell them about all the ghostly happenings at Gull Cottage, and I would NEVER have any peace and quiet. In short, I was blackmailed into letting them come."

"Bet you weren't thrilled with those developments," Sean commented to his old friend.

Daniel frowned at the memory. "No... I wasn't. As a matter of fact, I... we..."

"We had our first quarrel over it," Carolyn cut in again. "Fortunately, we did have enough sense to stop, before we said things we shouldn't, and well, we apologized to each other, and..."

"I did NOT apologize!" her ghost blustered. 'I most certainly..."

"Of COURSE you did," she answered, giving him a green eyed gaze that said more than words.

"Well, maybe," he smiled, coming over to her chair once more.

"So what happened?" Jess burst out. "How did you get rid of him? He sounds like a real jerk."

"Well, blackmailed or not, we knew we had to make a monkey out of him, or he would be a permanent houseguest," Daniel continued. "So we developed a plan between Mister Wilkie's leaving and his return with the school board men."

Carolyn arched an eyebrow. "We, Daniel? May I remind you that you agreed to leave the arrangements to me, and, I may add, argued the point a little — saying I had already driven Gull Cottage onto the reefs, or some such nonsense?"

Tris blew out an exasperated breath. "Enough, already — what did you do? Maybe we can do it again?"

Carolyn smiled. "It was all quite simple, I thought... and luckily, the plan worked, considering I was sure at the time Daniel figured my thinking up a solution was a good excuse as any to test me... see how much I really cared about staying at Gull Cottage by then. I simply..."

"I was NOT testing you, Carolyn!" The Captain stared at her. "I simply figured you deserved a chance to redeem yourself for letting him inside Gull Cottage to begin with. You..."

Carolyn gave him another look. "Redeem myself? I wanted the idiot out of the way as much as you did, Daniel. I couldn't get any work done while he was around any more than you could work on your charts, and, besides, you never..."

"Uhm, Ithinkweareloosingtrackof...whathappened," Sig cut in hurriedly. "Sogetonwiththestory — howdidyouchaseWilkieaway?"

"Yes, old friend," Sean smiled, taking hold of Molly's hand. "And be quick about it. The idea. You two quarreling! And about Wilkie, yet! The sooner all is said about that wretched fellow, the better. It's obvious the gadfly is a disturbing influence to you and Carolyn and this house."

"Indeed," Molly nodded, curling her hand into her husband's. "Tell us how you worked TOGETHER to rid yourselves of the pesterer."

Daniel Gregg gave his wife an apologetic look and had the grace to look somewhat abashed. "I do beg pardon, love. Finding a sound, logical way of ridding us of Wilkie, I thought once and for all, was indeed your idea. My dear, would you like to tell them? It was your idea... and a good one, especially considering that you had to deal with the fact that both Candy and Martha hadn't even met me yet. I had to rely on your sound judgment in that instance — as we were several years away from my being a legitimate, legalized citizen of Schooner Bay."

"I will," Carolyn said, taking his hand once more. "But you are too modest. You did help push matters along in a way I never could have. Your 'special effects' were better than the ones I dreamed up. It worked with BOTH of us."

"Special effects?" Blackie looked interested. "Okay... what did you do?"

"Well, that afternoon, I got busy with Martha and the kids," Carolyn explained. "I filled them in on what Wilkie was really after... that he wanted to prove that Gull Cottage was haunted by Captain Gregg. Martha didn't like him, and didn't trust him and thought that the whole idea of ghosts was silly..."

"When I finally showed myself to her a year or so later she didn't think I was silly," Daniel interjected.

"I know, love," Carolyn smiled again. "But at the time she did, and I think Candy was a little afraid of Wilkie and wanted him out of there, and besides, I told her if she helped me play ghost she could stay up past her bedtime. Jonathan, of course knew about you, and wanted to help... regardless what he had to do."

"He played his small part admirably," Daniel grinned in recollection.

"But WHAT did you do, already?" Lynne demanded. "I have to get up early tomorrow."

"The next night Mister Wilkie, Professor Maxwell and Mister Hewitt showed up as planned," Carolyn continued. Basically we... Daniel, I mean, did nothing when Wilkie or the school board were looking. Paul tried to show them how the 'rug' tripped him — but Daniel did nothing until they were looking in the other direction, then he sent him flying flashbulbs over teakettle... again!"

Siegfried roared with laughter. "Let me guess — they all thought Wilkie was the strange one?"

"Indeed," the Captain nodded. "More so when the oaf suggested they all pool their concentration, and..."

Lynne giggled. "My turn... he started calling 'Ayommmm, Ayummmm...' like he did in my office?"

"Yes, but only for a moment," Carolyn nodded. "Then he decided I might have some kind of influence over the ghost, and asked ME to summon Daniel!"

"Well, Carolyn, you DO have more influence over him than anyone," Blackie smiled, "But surely... he didn't..."

"The children started their part of the fun," Daniel broke in, ignoring Blackie's 'influence' comment. "Jonathan came first. His typing took us to the main cabin — Wilkie insisting that since there was no one in the room when we got there that the message in the typewriter was a 'message from the great beyond.' I still remember his disappointed face when Professor Hewitt spotted Jonathan hiding and Jon, under threat of no dessert for two weeks admitted he typed 'See Spot Run, Run, Spot Run' on the paper."

"I liked what happened next, even more!" Carolyn said, stifling another snicker, trying to remember the seriousness of their situation. "Wilkie decided that maybe Jonathan was a medium... I wonder if he ever met Madame Tibaldi? Anyway, he was starting to look desperate — I'll never forget it — he looked at Jonathan and asked "Son, are you a medium?" and Jonathan in all seriousness, replied, "I think I'm a small."

The room rang with laughter. "I break up every time I remember his saying that," Carolyn continued. "Anyway, back in the living room, Paul was drawn to a moving light fixture in the hall — it was Martha, pulling a string, really, and naturally they found her immediately. Finally Candy, dressed up as a ghost, came 'floating' down the stairs. They recognized her for what she really was, right away, and then took a bow, and after Martha left with the kids, Wilkie demanded an 'explanation' for our actions. That's when I let him have it — saying that since he fraudulently wormed his way into my house and tried to blackmail me, I thought I should do something 'nice' in return... provide a ghost for him."

"I see," said Sean. "And of course his supervisors were angry at him lying his way into the house. Brilliant."

"It was a perfectly executed plan, my dear," Daniel murmured. "I thought so then, I think so now. It was a marvelous way to get rid of him. Yes. The school board members were embarrassed for, and angry with Wilkie, and indicated he would be reprimanded, to say the least, and started making motions to leave — stopping long enough only to ask Carolyn if SHE believed in ghosts, and..."

"And I ducked the answer, answering a question with a question, asking the Professor if I looked like the type of woman who believed in ghosts. They said no, and they all left, Wilkie explaining as he went, and with Mister Hewitt's promise that I wouldn't be bothered any more."

"Actually, you did lie to them, my dear, saying you had never seen a ghost," Daniel smiled.

"I paid my forfeit!" Carolyn protested. "I didn't eat any dessert for two weeks!"

"You practically never eat dessert anyway," her husband pointed out.

"Anyway, that was our experience with Wilkie," Carolyn concluded. "Actually, I always have felt a little sorry for the man — I mean after all, he did experience ghostly manifestations, and he did get beat up, and nobody believed him!"

"He got what he deserved for wriggling his way into this house," Daniel declared. "Besides, look where we are now! He's back again, and more of a pest than ever!"

"So much for Mr. Hewitt's promise to keep him out of your hair," Jenny mused.

"You have to admit, looking for intelligence like ghosts is more sensible than looking for — Yoda," Dave pointed out. "I mean — there really are ghosts — and you guys are intelligent. So, he is on the right track, unfortunately."

"A broken clock has the right time twice a day," Sean reminded him.

"Unless it's digital, then it's just blank," Dave rejoined.

"No offense, Captain," Tristan essayed, "but I have much more creative ideas than a wonky light, whacking him with flour, or a person under a sheet."

Before Daniel could argue, Siegfried was on it. "Don't be a nitwit, boy. If you do that, you'll confirm his suspicionsandwe'llhave agentsrunningallover Schooner Bay."

"Aye. So, we'll need to lay low and not be, forgive the word, spooky," Sean agreed.

"It shouldn't be too hard," Molly said supportively. "I lived for months with Taliesin, not acting like a ghost." She paused. "Much."

"Well," Blackie frowned, "so far, we've all stonewalled him. Maybe he'll get discouraged and decide that it's just — something like Bigfoot or vampires, rumors that have no substance. He obviously doesn't have," he sighed and grimaced at the next word, "ghost-dar."

"Think if Blackie or I let him know that we do — if we could convince him that there's nothing to find?" Jess suggested. "If he's looking for ghosts, he's looking for a false idea of what ghosts are, not what you're really like. We haven't seen anything like what he's looking for. Did I make any sense at all?"

"Yes, Sis," Linden assured her. "But he'd likely want to hook you and Blackwood up to some sort of brainwave machine — or something to test the how of what you can do."

"Thanks, Lynne," Carolyn said. "You calling Daniel and Dash 'patients' should throw him off the track, somewhat. I doubt he knows ghosts can be tangible."

"I was just using them as an excuse to get rid of him," she admitted. "But, hey, glad it worked out to serve a better, less selfish purpose."

"Speaking of which," Dash interjected, "when I met Mr. Wilkie, I was at Lynne's to find out what you and Adam would enjoy having as a wedding gift, Jess. Since I didn't get an answer, what?"

The young woman shook her head. "I don't have a clue. We haven't decided when, yet. For one thing, we want to have somewhere to live, and can't figure out where that'll be; my job is here in Schooner Bay, his is in Skeldale. For either of us, the commute would be a pain on a daily basis. And he can't move the practice here. Candy'd be put out of a job. So, we might just wait, marry when summer starts, and hope I can get a teaching job in Skeldale for next year."

"Adam's home is rather — cramped," Dash frowned.

"Well, we would look for a bigger place in Skeldale — unless one of you ghosts has another house hidden somewhere?"

"Molly and I'd let you move in with us, but that doesn't solve the location problem for Adam," Sean offered.

"Nope, it doesn't," Jess agreed. "Best solution we can think of is either: A. I just join him in Skeldale, we make do on one salary if need be, and live in his micro apartment; or two, find a place somewhere between the two towns. We did see one place, but..."

"What?" Daniel prompted.

"It just wouldn't work, for a variety of reasons." Her tone indicated that the subject was closed. To emphasize that, she turned to Dave and Jenny. "How'd the first signing go?"

At the end of the evening, little had been really settled. While none of them wanted Paul Wilkie buzzing around, the only true solution to the problem of him was to try to not attract his attention and hope and pray he'd just leave, sooner rather than later. Boredom rather than cleverness was their best ally.

After the guests had gone, Carolyn settled down to brush Dakota while Daniel stirred the fire.

Not ten minutes passed before Tristan re-appeared. "Sorry to barge in," he began, "but, it's a lovely night, now that the weather's cleared, so I was walking, invisibly, mind you, along Bay Road. Just mulling life." Noting the slight impatience on his Captain's face, the young man hurried on, "Well, I hadn't gone very far when I noticed there was a car parked off the road. I wondered if perhaps someone was there, in trouble, so I went inside, still in spectral form, to see. Batteries and all are prone to go out in this weather especially. Well, earlier, when Dash dropped by to invite me to the meeting, I asked what Wilkie looked like, and he described him. The fellow in the car wasn't in trouble, he was looking through some kind of night-scope, toward Gull Cottage, and he looked just like Dashire's description of that blighter Wilkie."

"He's out there now, watching us?" Carolyn frowned.

"Afraid so. I have no idea how long he's been there, but the all the ghosts who popped did it from inside," Tristan attempted to be soothing. "So, he couldn't have seen anyone vanish. At worst, he'll find out who Blackie, Jess, Jenny, and Dave are and pester them. He's met Lynne and interrogated her already."

Low thunder rumbled.

"My sentiments exactly," Tristan nodded in acknowledgment of the stormy expression on Daniel's mien.

"Blast him," Carolyn fumed. "What's next — bugging the place?"

"Only if he gets inside, and he won't," Daniel vowed. "One of the crew will be here at all times." He gave Dakota a rueful look. Her effectiveness as a watchdog was dubious. "I don't know if wires could be rigged from the outside, but he won't get close enough to do that, either."

"I'll call Adam in the morning. Perhaps he's violating some right we have?" Carolyn speculated.

"If he does work for the government, then he might have the right to violate yours," Tristan pointed out. "Do you want to run him off for now, or shall I?"

Daniel pondered the issue. "No. Let him sit there. It's supposed to get down below twenty tonight. Let him freeze something off."

"Too bad that it's too cold for a beach party," Tristan frowned. "Nice, noisy radio."

"That would keep ME awake," Carolyn dryly objected. "Blast."

"Thank you, lad," Daniel nodded. "We needed to know what's going on." Silently, he added, By midnight, Carolyn should be asleep. Assemble the troops for a little meeting then.

"Glad to," Tristan answered both statements. "Except I wish he wasn't there."

XXX

When told to assemble the troops, Tristan Matthews did not scrimp; not only were the ghosts who'd been at Gull Cottage earlier that evening there, but he managed to find the elusive guru, Fontenot. After checking to see if their spy was still parked on Bay Road and confirming that he was, the seven spirits discussed the distasteful situation.

"He must have a cold," Tristan sniffed. "I was no more than a foot away, and he didn't even blink. His ghost smeller must be clogged up."

"At least we found Elroy a nice, safe haunt miles from the ocean for his Christmas gift," Fontenot sighed. "He'd get in trouble with that idiot wandering around." Thanks to Jess, they had figured out that the sea was just not the hapless ghost's vocation. It had seemed best to find him somewhere to abide that was not at all nautical.

"Let's hope that we get rid of this wretch before Adam and Jess marry," Molly frowned. "Jess really wants Elroy to be at their wedding. She told Carolyn and me that seeing how Adam dropped everything to help him out was when she realized she was falling for him."

"Have no fear," Daniel promised. "We WILL dispatch him with all due speed."

"How?" Sean asked, folding his arms.

"I haven't decided, yet. Until such time as he does leave, Mr. Wilkie is to be under twenty-four-hour surveillance."

"Poetic justice," Siegfried agreed. "I take it you wish us to work in shifts?"

"Yes. That way, not one of us will be completely out of pocket, as it were," Daniel nodded.

"I want the first shift after he goes back to his room at the inn in the morning," Tristan offered. "If he's staying awake all night to spy, he should be getting very drowsy when everyone else is waking up."

"Why should you get all the fun?" Dashire protested.

"At least one or two mornings, then."

After working out a schedule, the spirits dispersed for the second time that night.

XXX

Over the next day or two, Daniel, Carolyn, and Martha made sure that it was readily apparent to someone watching Gull Cottage that someone was always there, reducing the odds of Mr. Wilkie attempting to play at burglaring again. Not only would that be an invasion of privacy, but Martha had not appreciated the mess Captain Gregg made the first time Wilkie had done his investigating.

Therefore, Mr. Government Agent was reduced to sitting in his car at all hours, especially at night, peering at the house through night vision lens. If there was anyone more bored with his surveillance, it was the ghosts watching him to make sure he didn't get daring.

As Tristan arrived to take over from Daniel, the two exchanged pleasantries.

"Has he done anything yet?" Tristan asked with a glance toward the G-Man.

Daniel shook his head. "If ghosts got sleepy, I'd have nodded off ages ago from ennui."

"Looks like he's trying to do that now," the other spirit observed. "Well, my best to the Lady, sir. How much longer, by the by, do you think he'll stick with this?"

For that, Daniel had no answer. So, he merely faded out to rejoin his wife while Tristan rode back to the Schooner Bay Inn, perched invisibly on top of the rented car.

XXX

Paul stumbled into his room just as the other tenants in the inn began to stir. Yawning, he changed into PJ's and turned off the phone before collapsing into the twin bed. As his eyes drifted to a close, the phone rang. He must have not completely turned off the ringer. With a sigh, Wilkie answered it. "Hello?"

Silence greeted him in return. Shaking his head, Wilkie hung up, and then checked the switch to make sure he had turned it off. He had. Maybe the button didn't work? Well, he'd try to sleep again.

This time, his eyes closed before the phone rang again.

The other end remained silent.

The pattern continued to repeat. Paul took it off the hook, but the buzz of an off the hook phone is annoying, and today the buzz seemed to increase in volume by the moment. He took the line out of the back, but it still rang. He opened the window and sat it on the ledge. The ring penetrated through the window glass.

This was ridiculous! A nightmare! He was exhausted and had to get at least an hour or two's worth of slumber. Feeling muzzy headed was not conducive to nabbing elusive spectral intelligences. Ire and fatigue pushing at him, Paul Wilkie opened the window, retrieved the phone, and while it still was ringing, hurled it to the ground below before shutting the window. He'd have to pay for the thing, but he didn't really care. That was the end of it, he could sleep now.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

No! Nonononono!

Prepared to face an aggrieved innkeeper demanding due recompense for the loss of a phone, Mr. Wilkie stumbled to the door and jerked it open. "Sir, your phone system is clearly malfunctioning, and that is why..." he began, going on the offensive.

Then, he broke off; it was not the mild mannered Mr. McVey who ran the Inn, but a tall man in black with a grim expression on his face. Pushing Wilkie aside, the stranger entered the room. "Wh-who are you?"

"That is not important. I am with the International Bureau of Telecommunications Protective Enforcement, here to charge you with Telecide, in the Enth Degree."

"The Intern-whuaah?"

The stranger glared in reply. "THE PHONE COPS. You haven't HEARD of us? That's good. We're highly and I DO mean highly classified. In fact, if you are ever asked, you will not remember this or—" An evil laugh finished the sentence. "You killed that phone."

"I— I — I was tired, and it was ringing and—"

"What is a phone supposed to do but ring? You are a menace, and I will have to take you in."

"Now see here, I'm a government agent, and I've never heard of the International Teleprotective—"

"That's a whole different agency — you know about them! We're going to have to interrogate you — you know TOO MUCH."

"I don't know anything!" Wilkie gasped.

"That is obvious, but you know something and you shouldn't. This is very, very serious." The stranger stalked around the room, cold anger emanating from him. Finally, he came to a stop in front of a very nervous Wilkie.

"WHO do you think I am?" the man demanded in an icy tone.

"An agent with the — the — International Tele-something-or other, enforcer thingamajig," Wilkie squeaked.

"Oh?" The man leaned closer. "Really?"

Suddenly, Paul was looking into...

His own face.

That was the last thing he saw before waking hours later in the bed. The window was closed. The door was shut. The telephone he'd chucked out the window was beside the bed, undamaged.

Very carefully, as if it were a serpent that might bite him, Paul lifted the receiver from the cradle and listened to the familiar buzz of a dial tone. "Testing, testing, one, two, three." He repeated this phrase twice before the buzz quit and was replaced with an automated, nasal voice informing him that if he wanted to make a call, hang up and dial again. If he needed help, please dial the operator.

For the next twenty-one minutes, Paul roamed around his room, looking under and behind things, checking for bugs, cameras, or other recording devices. He considered calling his superiors. No, it wasn't time, yet. Besides, what if they were in on it. He wasn't sure what IT was, but taking chances was not prudent yet.

Still feeling rattled, he dressed, after shaking out his clothes to make sure no kind of tracking device might be in them and went downstairs where he rang the little bell to summon the desk clerk.

"Good afternoon, Mister Wilkie," the middle aged gentleman on duty said pleasantly.

"How did you know my name?" he demanded.

"Uh — well, we don't have a lot of guests right after the holidays, and you did register." Uncertain now, he asked tentatively, "Is everything all right?"

"No, it's not. I tried to go to bed when I came in from — work this morning and the phone kept ringing, and ringing and—"

"Ringing?" he suggested. "Phones do that."

"Yes, well, I couldn't get it to stop..."

"There is an off button on the back," the man replied.

"I tried that. I tried unplugging it. I set it outside. I threw it out the window, even."

The man frowned now. "I'll have to charge you for that. I'm not sure when we can get a replacement phone for you... hmm. But perhaps you'd prefer not to have one."

"It really doesn't matter and the phone is fine now," Paul impatiently cut him off.

"Fine? But you said you hurled it out the window!"

"Yes, but it's back now, just fine. I guess the guy brought it back."

"What guy?" the clerk was mystified.

"The one who came to my room — that's what I'm upset about, a perfect stranger came into my room and threatened me. I want to know who was on duty and let him up there."

"Perfect? Well, I assure you, sir, it is strictly against policy to tell a stranger, perfect or not, the rooms our guests are occupying. None of our people would do that. You must have had a bad dream. Now about that phone..."

"I told you the phone is... oh, never mind. Nothing's broken. I had a dream. Forget it." Angrily, Paul stalked out to his car, never looking back.

He failed to see the clerk call Mrs. Phelps, the true clerk on duty, and inform her that he hoped she'd had a nice break, but he needed to go. He surely did not see, when no one at all was there to observe, the dowdy mien visage turn into a more familiar aspect of Fontenot. Nor did he hear the gruff man mutter, "Perfect? I can never tell the boy he was called that; there'll be no living with him."

XXX

By now, the Skeldale section of the family knew about Wilkie, but the road between Skeldale and Schooner Bay had been undergoing improvements for several days, making it impractical and nigh to impossible for Adam or Candy and Thom to navigate it, especially after dark. There were times that being a ghost would be handy.

It had also bogged down their work a bit.

Late in the afternoon, Adam called Candy into his office. "How'd you feel about going home to your husband a bit early?"

"Fine, if he was going to be home — there's some new disease, and it's transmitted sexually or through contact with blood. Really dangerous — and in his line of work, he has to know how to handle the blood he draws so as to be safe. The hospital sent him and a few other techs to Maryland for a three-day safety conference. He left this morning. But I thought we were swamped, so — what's up?"

"You remember that couple that was in a few days ago asking me to draw up a pre-nup? It was done two days ago, but the roads being what they are — there's been no way to deliver it, and the wedding is tomorrow. Since we came in separate cars today, thought you could deliver it and then head home. They live in that nameless area between Schooner Bay and Skeldale, so I guess you could visit Carolyn — or just go on home, but — one of us is going to be stuck in the office for another two hours or until this mountain is a molehill, and it should be delivered before the bachelor party hits and the groom is too blurred to sign his name."

"Hand it here, boss. Address?"

"One seventeen Seaspray."

Frowning, Candy shook her head. "Seaspray?"

Before answering, Adam fished in his top drawer and got out a pad of paper. As he scrawled across it, he spoke on, "Here's directions." He sighed. "They're — living together, so just one house to go to. If you do go on down the road to visit the family..."

With a grin, she pertly promised, "I'll give Jess your love — but I won't kiss her for you."

"I wasn't going to ask, not for the latter. Imp. I was going to say, I've given the Wilkie matter some thought, and if it looks like he'll expose the whole ghost thing, then — would you run this idea by your dad? How would he and the others feel about — if it comes down to it — having ghosts recognized as legal citizens?"

That stopped her in mid-reach. "You think he'll succeed?"

"It's not likely, but not considering that eventuality makes sense, and might be insurance. Better to have a contingency plan in place and not need it than vice versa."

"Like carrying an umbrella," she nodded.

"Kinda."

"Okay. See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early, or at least early," he nodded. "Wake me at the regular time."

"Aye-aye, sir."

Forty-five minutes later, Candy was, if not lost, profoundly misplaced. Adam's had written on there that this was a shortcut. Long cut was more like it! She'd rather have had a normal route than a — a pig trail. All she knew for sure was she was exactly halfway between Schooner Bay and Skeldale.

Sighing, turned onto a side street to get her bearings. Getting out her Key map, she sat there to study it. Nothing looked right, Candy decided, grimacing as she looked up to see if anything had suddenly transformed into something matching the words on Adam's bit of paper.

Although nothing did, one thing jumped out at her. Hastily, she made a few notes, and then biting her lip in excitement, looked around again. Gas station... yes.

She drove over and asked directions after putting in five dollars worth of fuel. Apparently, Seaspray was a divided street; it vanished at the end of one block, reappearing two streets over. She just had to go a few more blocks, and would be where she needed to be.

With the pre-nup signed and witnessed by the best man and maid of honor, Candy turned her car toward Schooner Bay, driving straight to Gull Cottage.

When she walked in, the news could wait no longer. Instead of "hello", she exclaimed, "Mom, Dad — I found a house for Adam and Jess."

Carolyn blinked and looked from her daughter to her husband who had just materialized off to one side. "Where? How?"

"And how much?" Martha added as she walked in to see what the stir was about.

Looking a bit deflated by the touch of reality the older woman interjected into the mix, Candy admitted. "I don't know that much, just that it's located precisely at the mid-point between Schooner Bay and Skeldale, it's for sale by owner, and it's cute."

Daniel shot Martha an amused glance as he pulled his ear in consideration. Cute. He'd heard that word applied to boys, babies, knick-knacks, Dakota, and the kittens. Cute was not a factor one should consider in housing, but he'd grown accustomed to the quirks the women in his life possessed.

The trio of women and the ghost trooped into the living room. Dakota looked up lazily from her spot by the fire where the kittens were napping in a little circle beside her. Seeing it was a good person who had come in, she decided not to bother rising, just yawned.

"Let me get you some coffee, it's icy out there," Martha declared, bustling off to do just that.

Over steaming cups, Candy related her adventure. As she pulled out a slip of paper to read the exact address and phone number off, Siegfried appeared.

"Sean and Molly just took over the Wilkie watch," the Englishman announced. "Oh, hello, Candy. I'm sorry I didn't see you there."

"S'okay," she shrugged.

"Candy was just telling us she'd found a perfect house for Jess and Adam," Daniel told him.

"You don't say? Where?" Siegfried was really trying to speak slower nowadays. Most of the time.

When Candy recited the address, he shook his head. "It may look good from an exterior view, my dear girl," he intoned. "However, I must tell you that Jess and Adam looked at that place over the Christmas holidays..."

"But when we asked the other night, they hadn't had any luck finding a place," Carolyn interrupted. "Sorry."

"Not at all," Sig waved away her apology. "One day, she came home from the search more discouraged than ever. Apparently, she and Adam saw this very house and were certain they had found the perfect location, until they got inside and saw all that needed doing to it there." He shook his head sadly. "They even asked the price and realized they could manage a down payment and the monthly ones as well, without much, if any strain. However, if the repairs and so on were to be made, they would not be able to pull it off. Neither has the time to work on it, and hiring people would add even more to the costs involved." He smiled sadly at Candy. "It was a good thought, child, but I fear, not a — 'doable' one, as Fontenot would say." He pursed his lips, and then launched into the tale of what Fontenot and his rapscallion baby brother had done a few days ago with the phones to that blighter of a ghost chaser. Candy had heard the story from Dashire, but didn't tell him that. Besides, Siegfried had a more dramatic flair than the regal lord.

Martha followed the story with an invitation to dinner, since she knew Thom was out of town, and Candy agreed, after saying she'd have to call Dashire. He was haunting what had been his home, and was now hers. She knew he'd worry if she didn't let him know things like that. While she was on the phone, Martha extended the invitation to him, and so the table was very full that evening with two extra ghosts and Candy.

Since Ed had an Elk's meeting that night, Martha hung around afterwards. He'd pick her up on his way home.

"You know," she mused, looking up from the knitting she was working on, "since Ed's semi-retired, he's driving me up a semi-wall. Claymore had a wild hair — don't say it, Captain — and thought the two of them could team up to buy old houses, restore them, and make a mint. Now, I don't like the idea of him getting up to his neck in a scheme like that, but, well, this kind of project would keep him busy, from time to time."

"I was merely going to note," the ghost returned, "that Claymore should attempt to grab hold of any hair he could find, wild or not."

"I know."

"Ed's not the only ready worker you would have," Siegfried pointed out thoughtfully. "The wedding presents the same dilemma some of us had over the holidays — the lack of ready funds. Not all of us play the stock market with our stashed fortune." He gave Dash a look on that note. "Being able to work on the place would, perhaps, serve as a gift."

"Even for those of us who have the funds to help with the down payment," Dashire drawled.

"That last advance is just sitting there. All types of fantasy and sci-fi have perked up thanks to Star Wars and/or Henry Radcliffe," Carolyn glanced at Daniel.

"Which means our books are selling splendidly," Daniel nodded. "However, I would want to see the place first before committing to such a scheme. I know a thing or two about architecture and so forth, and could assess how feasible this might be."

"I'll call and make an appointment to see the house," Carolyn offered.

"Appointment?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, darling. You can't just go to the door, knock, and say 'let us in to look around.' It's not — proper."

"Those two — barometer thieves did just that," he growled. "But, that's not what I had in mind."

Putting a hand over her eyes, Carolyn shook her head. "You weren't — were you? No."

"What's the good of having the power of being invisible if you can't use it?" he asked rhetorically.

"He's right, Carolyn," Dash nodded. "I've seen enough to know that you never offer the asking price — and if we have an advanced look see to determine what is wrong with it, we'll know how much is an actual fair price. Of course, the person showing us around would never point out the flaws, so to see them, we need to look on our own."

"Exactly," Daniel agreed. "No one will see us. Then, when we've seen it, you can schedule a real visit..."

"If it's worth the time," Siegfried added.

"Right. And we'll go from there."

"That is a good plan, Mom," Candy agreed. "It might not even be worth our looking inside — but Dad, Uncle Dash, and Uncle Sean did work on Gull Cottage. They'd know whether it was or not and get to see it without someone trying to sell us on it, It's a lot easier to buy just the make up you need in a drug store than in a department store with a clerk selling you on it."

"Ah, but the ladies of this family don't need any, so how do you know that?" Dashire asked eloquently.

"Are you sure you aren't Irish?" Martha asked. "You're better at blarney than Sean."

"It's no blarney!"

"Dash," Daniel interceded, "Why don't you go and ask Molly if she can spare Sean so we can go and examine this place? Siegfried, are you inclined to carpentry and such at all?"

"Not especially, but I did manage to maintain the farm fairly well, making repairs and so on. I am curious to see the place."

"Excellent, once Carolyn is asl—" Daniel began, breaking off when he saw her expression. "What, dear?"

"I won't sleep for wondering, so there's no point in that — and a house for sale by owner usually has the owner in it. Unless you guys have x-ray vision, then how are you going to inspect without moving and looking at things? So, you have a better chance of catching the owners out of pocket before the wee small hours."

"Candy, could you tell if it's occupied? Or did Jess mention it, Siegfried?" Daniel asked.

"She said the owners had recently moved into an assisted living dwelling in Boston, and their children were managing the place. It was too much work for the eighty-year-old parents."

Before her ghost could say anything else, Carolyn re-emphasized, "I won't sleep a wink wondering if it is suitable or not, so you can go look anytime."

"I don't have any reason to rush home except to let BJ out before it gets too dark," Candy said.

"Taken care of, dear girl," Dash inclined his head.

"I've said it before, you guys are handy," Martha said. "If you hurry, you can be there and back before Ed's meeting is over."

Daniel mentally shook his head. He'd never thought that he'd be taking orders from a woman, or so happy to do it.

XXX

Even ghosts could not inspect a house instantly. The three women began to worry when it an hour had passed without the guys returning. By the time they popped in, Ed had joined their vigil.

"Well?" Carolyn asked as they reappeared.

"The floors need work," Sean began while Daniel kissed his wife on the cheek.

"I think ceiling fans would be a good addition, very economical devices from all I hear," Siegfried pointed out. "Circulates the heat or the cool either one, you know."

"Windows are filthy, and several are cracked," Dashire continued. "Not to mention a coat of paint or two. Chimney needs to be cleaned and the flues checked."

"The tubs are a nightmare, they must be re-glazed," Daniel added. "Some of the faucets dripped. Or was it all of them? Whether or not the electricity worked, we could not determine; the light fixtures had been stripped of bulbs."

"So, it's not a good buy?" Candy asked in disappointment.

"We didn't say that," the Captain smiled. "It will take work, lots of it — but we have willing workers among just us four, and I'm sure that Fontenot and Tristan will be willing to lend their metaphysical muscles to the project."

"Don't leave Molly out, unless you want another thunderstorm," Sean advised.

"It's hardly work for a lady!" Daniel protested.

"At least ask her, or I'll be on your sofa, so to speak," the Irishman pleaded.

"Well, you can count on my help, too," Ed gruffly informed them. "Bet the water was dripping to keep the pipes from freezing, so it was on purpose. Spect I know more about electricity than you four combined."

"Undoubtedly," Daniel agreed readily as the others nodded. Turning back to Carolyn, he added, "My dear, will you—?"

"I'll call the owners' kids in the morning and set up an appointment to look at it. Sig, I'd like to have Lynne go with us. We know Jess likes the place, but she should be involved or have the chance to be."

"We'll have to involve the whole crew, or risk shunning, excommunication, what have you," Martha said.

"Yes, even Claymore," Dashire tacked onto her statement.

"It will cost money, so I think he would appreciate being excluded," Daniel growled.

"Money is why we need Claymore," Dash insisted. "He can negotiate a deal that will save it for us. No one would be better at that than him. Money that would be better spent getting the house in shape."

"He's right," Ed grudgingly supported the nobleman's statement. "Claymore's not gonna let a dime extra get spent if he can help it, 'lessen it goes to him."

"Fine. We'll include the lout," Daniel grumbled.

"And he's a fair contractor," Ed went on.

"Don't push it."

On that note, the Peaveys, Candy, and the ghosts departed for the evening.

They were all so pleased with themselves, they almost forgot about Paul Wilkie until an hour later, Candy called her mother. "You'll never believe this, but Mister Wilkie tailed me home. Don't worry, Lord Dashire remained invisible, but it's annoying. And aren't spies supposed to try not to be seen? He's so obvious that if national security depended on him, we'd be sunk."

"Where is he now?" Carolyn asked, rolling her eyes.

There was a pause, and then Candy giggled. "It looks like Mr. Bentlage, our 'neighborhood watch' captain spotted him and has called the sheriff's department on him."

"I guess it'd be too much to hope that he'll have to spend some time at the jail, get discouraged, and vamoose?" Carolyn sighed.

"Yeah, probably. But hey — we can hope. Shush, your lordship. I can't hear Mom over your chortling!"

XXX

Arrangements were made for Carolyn, Daniel Miles, Lynne, Ed, and Claymore to see the house the next afternoon. At one point midway into the tour, Claymore begged them all to go ahead of him. He was feeling winded, and if he could just rest a minute. Lynne offered to stay with him, concerned that his arrhythmia was flaring up, but he was so adamant that even she gave up and left him. After a few minutes though, Ed went back to check on him and the two men returned together.

When they got to the car, Lynne asked, "Are you all right, Claymore? It's not far to the hospital if..."

He waved her concern aside. "I was faking. Couldn't do much of an inspection with the owners' grandson hovering, could I?"

"We, Claymore," Ed corrected. "I unscrewed a couple of outlets. Wiring's fine. And I was right. Water drips because they don't want the pipes to freeze. Work that needs doing's more cosmetic than anything else."

"Uh—huh," Claymore nodded, shooting Ed a slightly 'peeved' look over having his thunder stolen. Pulling out a pad of paper he'd had hidden in one pocket, he began itemizing what needed to be done, what it would cost, and how that should affect the offer they made on the house. "Now, Mrs. — Carolyn," he glared at Daniel as if daring the ghost to reproach him. "We'll offer ten thousand less than what I just told you."

"They'll never go for that," she protested.

"No, they won't, but they're already asking ten thousand too much, so we need to find middle ground. If you'll leave it all to me, you'll get it for less than you could with anyone else. Besides, I called a friend who has a friend, who found out that no offers have been made on the place since it was listed in early December. So, they'll be desperate," Claymore replied with more certainty than any of them had ever heard in his tone. "I'll even waive my fee to negotiate this, as a wedding gift to the happy couple."

Daniel, Carolyn, and Lynne exchanged glances. "Should we call the others?" Carolyn asked.

"I spoke to Blackwood," Lynne said. "He says he trusts my judgment, and I called Suzy. She said that she and Peter will contribute as well, but left it to our discretion. She can't believe her little sister is getting married and wants us to do all we can to hurry it up before Jess chickens out."

"The crew will follow my advice," Daniel said. "I think you know Candy's inclination as well, and I'm sure Jenny will agree."

"Do it," Carolyn nodded to Claymore.

Happily, the little man nodded. "Now, I'm pretty sure they'll accept, after some haggling — but at what point will the newlyweds be — newly-wed and take over the payments?"

"We don't know," Lynne admitted with a frown. "I'd thought, and I think you guys did, too, that this would be a great surprise, but since they don't plan to marry until they have some idea of where they'll live..."

"We may have to tell them what we plan," Daniel agreed ruefully.

"Let's wait to tell them until the deal is made," Carolyn suggested.

"Just don't let them make a deal on anything else!" Ed warned.

XXX

Not long after they returned to Schooner Bay and went their separate ways, Jenny brought Amberly over to Gull Cottage for a visit. It had become an at least once a week habit to have 'Grandfather' read to the baby. It was a treat for the two grown women as well. She was delighted with the news about the possible house, and promised to help any way she could. Although she and Dave were on a budget, there would surely be some ways they could contribute. For one thing, the barn out back that they used for storage still held a few pieces of the furniture she'd inherited when her parents were killed. They'd never found a use for them or hassled with selling the things.

When she went home, Daniel went with her to look at what she had. The new project had captured his imagination and he was anxious to begin. However, it would take time to get the deal nailed down, and Carolyn had already warned that breathing down Claymore's neck would not rush it along.

To Daniel's vast annoyance, he saw a now familiar blue sedan trailing after them trying to hard to be unnoticed that it was impossible not to notice it. He refrained from stating his exact opinion though, out of courtesy to Jenny and Amberly.

The ghost was quite pleased with the results of his inspection. Granted, there were only a few pieces, but they were good ones; a bedroom suite, a couple of ornamental tables, and a chair that was simply the wrong color for the Farnon home. There was also a clock that Dave had fallen heir to when his parents moved to Australia that he'd always hated, but hadn't gotten rid of outright.

As they emerged from the building, Jenny almost stepped on Paul Wilkie who was trying to hear at the door. Obviously, he had failed or he would have heard them coming.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped before Daniel could.

Wilkie flushed briefly, and then recovered his composure. Drawing himself up, he glared. "I'm attempting to — to—"

"Spy on an innocent woman and her child?" Daniel fumed.

"Ah — yes — I mean no. The child — well, everyone knows that the younger the child, the more attuned they are to the other realm, and so I wanted to watch the baby and see if he—"

"She, you nitwit," Daniel growled.

"Could see a ghost lingering," Paul continued. To Daniel's satisfaction, dark circles ringed his eyes. His hair was awry, and all signs pointed to a lack of sleep. His crew did good work.

"I don't care if you're looking for ghosts, aliens, or — goblins, keep away from my baby!" Jenny warned.

"Now, Miss..."

"Missus, and no — you will not get near her again, you — officious twerp." Jenny did not get angry easily, but now she was making up for lost time.

"I'm with the government..."

"I don't care if you're with the — anything!" she hissed. Daniel was impressed, but Wilkie did not have enough sense to be.

"You wouldn't like what will happen if I get mad," Paul warned.

"No, sir, you wouldn't like what happens if I get mad, and you will find out soon," Daniel promised. "Now go — unless you want to meet a ghost up close and personal — from his side of the veil."

Instead of running for his life as anyone with a modicum of sense would have, Paul stared at Daniel. Then, he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "Do you know who you remind me of?" Not waiting for a reply, he answered himself. "Daniel Gregg."

To his credit, Daniel did not let his surprise show. "I don't care if I remind you of Merlin, go away!"

Amberly let out a shriek, prompting Jenny to glare at her unwelcome guest, then state, "I'm taking my baby inside. Neither of us has anything to say to you. Nothing I can say in front of her anyway." Pulling the blanket more tightly around the baby, Jenny hurried inside. As the day began to fade, it was getting colder, so she really needed to do that anyway.

A car door slammed, announcing that Dave had arrived home.

"Now, do you want to leave on your own, or do things have to get — interesting?" Daniel asked in a pleasant tone.

"Assault of a federal officer carries with it a penalty..."

"And a thank-you note from your co-workers, I would imagine," Dave's voice drawled from behind them. "But assault. We would never assault you. I was thinking something more permanent."

"That's—"

"We know," Daniel nodded. "But if you leave now, and don't bother this family further, we may let you live."

For a moment, Wilkie tried to look brave, and then bolted in a manner that reminded the ghost of how Claymore used to flee Gull Cottage. Those were the days.

When they were sure he was gone, Sean appeared. "Sorry, Captain. I would have stopped him, but there wasn't a way to do it, without confirming anything we don't want confirmed." The Irishman's eyes were stormy. "He won't sleep until he leaves Schooner Bay."

XXX

On one hand, Paul had enough sense of self preservation to not plague Carolyn's girls any further. That did not keep him from buzzing around Schooner Bay interviewing people. He guessed, perhaps rightly, that if they were so opposed to his investigation, there was something to learn. His first stop was at Claymore's, to find out if the reason that he was no longer the landlord of Gull Cottage had anything to do with spirits. Claymore's sense of self-preservation was even greater, and he had acquired some sense of loyalty over the years. Therefore, Mr. Wilkie wasted an hour trying to coax information out of Mr. Gregg. It might have gone faster, if Claymore hadn't had to keep waking him.

Likewise, he could learn nothing from Ed Peavey, Norrie, or other merchants who'd known Carolyn for years. Helen Wight had only known the Miles family for a few months, but that was long enough for her to aver that there was nothing out of line with Mr. and Mrs. Miles, their family, or home. He interrogated Siegfried, but never guessed that he was speaking to a ghost, just wondered how anyone could talk that fast.

Jess had her principal order him away from the gym field when he tried to speak to some of the younger citizens of the town, and he wound up in Ed's jail for a few hours as a result.

When he got out, Margaret Sharpe, nee' Coburn was in the coffee shop across the way from the constable's office. When she tried to flirt, Paul took advantage and drew her out on the subject of Carolyn Muir Miles. Talking about another woman was not what she wanted to do, but Margaret did say that there'd always been "something strange" about that whole family, but he'd really need to talk to Jane or Darlene. They would know more.

Naturally, he did, and the two women were only too glad to gossip. Unfortunately, from Paul's point of view, nothing was said about ghosts, goblins, or things that go bump in the night.

XXX

While Paul ran around town trying to find out what the truth might be, Claymore managed to pull off somewhat of a coup. The impatient sellers were so glad to get any offer that they only forced him to raise the offer five-thousand, which was still five thousand less than he'd hoped to have to pay and call it a good deal. The only person not pleased by this was Adam, who Candy reported had driven past the house the day the SOLD sign was nailed up, and come into work the next day in a testy mood.

With that deal made, Martha wanted to get a look at the place. Ed refused to leave town long enough to drive her out there with Wilkie running around, just in case he needed to be arrested again. Carolyn had an article to finish, Lynne couldn't be away from the office that long, and a sudden change in the weather made Jenny reluctant to take the baby outside for extended periods. Blackie was on duty twenty-four-hours a day and had a cold besides. His aunt had promised that if he obeyed her instructions, stayed in, and got plenty of rest, he'd be in form to preach by Sunday, and no longer contagious.

"It's going to need cleaning before the guys can work, and I want to measure for curtains or blinds," Martha fretted as she set the lid on a crock-pot in the Gull Cottage kitchen.

"I can drive you," Tristan offered. "Long as I can have you home by the time Sig wants me to help him exercise the horses. Winter has lightened stable traffic considerably, and since the horses are mortal... he has to work within those limits on exercising them. Can't see in the dark, they can't."

Martha started to automatically dismiss his words as was customary, but she saw the earnestness on his face. "If you're sure. I promise to have you home by the right time. I'd go on my own, you know, but I haven't been there, and all the ghosts have. Nothing I hate more than getting lost."

Grinning, Tristan materialized her coat and helped the housekeeper into it. "I'll just tell the Captain where we'll be." Carolyn was buried in her work, so he would not dream of disturbing her.

"Wait — you put on a coat, too," Martha advised.

"I don't feel the cold."

"Yes, but someone might notice."

She had a point, so he rearranged his attire to look like a suede jacket. If he was going to look wintry, he was going to do it in style. By the time Tristan had returned from the wheelhouse, Martha had her notepad, measuring tape, and a few dust rags. She wasn't going to get too serious about cleaning until Claymore had the heat on, but she might dust just a bit.

Two hours later, Carolyn emerged from the den right as Martha and Tris returned in the station wagon. As she opened the door, it was plain they were both angry.

"That nincompoop followed us," Martha answered her question before it could be asked. "I wish I'd had that string back. I'd wrap it around his neck. He sat outside and watched the whole time we were working — and since the windows are not covered yet, he could see in, I'm sure."

"So I couldn't levitate anything helpfully or measure any of the taller windows by levitating me," Tristan added ruefully. "The blighter needs to go."

Just in time to hear this, Daniel teleported into the hallway. "What? He's back to dogging our steps? No offense," he tacked onto the end, with a glance toward Dakota.

Martha shrugged out of her coat, which the Captain took long enough to make vanish again. "And that place may have potential, I guess it had better since the deal's done, but it needs a lot of elbow grease. It'd be a lot easier if you lot could just..." she waved one hand.

"I'd better go," Tristan sighed. "Before my brother comes looking for me." He made a face, and then brightened. "Horses... boring him isn't working... could we try turning him into Ichabod Crane? I could do a fantastic headless horseman." To prove it, he let out a laugh that sounded like Vincent Price as Darth Vader.

"I fear," Daniel noted, tugging his ear, "that would only entrench him here more deeply. It's an excellent thought, and I admit to entertaining similar ideas..."

"But he'd just jump for joy and say 'I knew it' if you two did something like that," Carolyn admonished.

"Which is why we haven't," Daniel replied with some asperity as Tristan saluted and vanished.

XXX

The problem continued to worry at Daniel's mind, so that even after Ed picked up Martha and left, he was still fuming.

"There has got to be a way to get rid of him. I've no doubt that eventually he'll get bored, but until then — our hands are tied behind our backs!" the ghost seethed. "Tied... hmm. I wonder how one would get a straight jacket? We could have him committed perhaps?"

Before Carolyn could respond, the phone rang. Dumping the kittens off her lap, she rose and answered.

"Yes, this is she. Oh, Sean—"

"Why is Sean calling instead of popping?" Daniel frowned.

"—Callahan," Carolyn concluded. "It's been ages. How is Vanessa?"

"That worm! Just what we need! Who's next? Ralph Muir? Aunt Bats? Oh, I know, Blair!" Daniel thundered, damping down slightly when Carolyn waved at him to shush. Grimacing, he drifted over to listen.

"She's fine, in a way." Sean began. "That's partly why I'm calling you — you see, you might know that after the Great Ghost Callahan..."

"Ha!" Daniel snorted in a low tone.

"...Departed, his wife moved into the castle. Well, a few years back, she got restless and took a vacation. I never saw clearly who it was who sub-haunted for her," Callahan continued, not having heard Daniel's comment, "but she did all right. Anyway, about a year ago, she came back — Great-great grandmother, I mean. Had a whole new attitude she did. Granny's been rather — impossible since then. She can't stand Vanessa being the image of — well... one of her late husband's — ah — interests. It's gotten to the point that if I don't rid the castle of my grandmother, I'll lose my wife and sons. The priest canna do a thing. I wonder if perhaps, whatever you did to the Great Ghost..."

"I can't get him back," Carolyn interjected.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't ask that. But could you do it again to get her to move on?" Callahan sounded desperate.

"I'll see what I can do," Carolyn promised, though what she had no idea. "But I can't promise."

"Just do what you can, I beg you."

After a few more words, they hung up.

"Well?" Carolyn asked.

"I wouldn't tell Tris he was just called a she," Daniel advised.

"Of course not, but can we help them?" Carolyn asked.

"We have our own problems, love. Frankly, Callahan having problems delights me."

"Daniel!" A thoughtful expression crossed her face.

"What? I know that look," he demanded cautiously.

"I think we can solve both problems in one shot. Find Tristan, and — any of your crew."

To her surprise, Daniel did not vanish, merely looked at her. A moment later, Tristan, Dash, and Sean appeared.

"I keep forgetting you can do that," Carolyn laughed, and then laid out the newest turn of events, prompting Dash and Tris to both leave and make arrangements of their own.

XXX

It was getting so hard to stay awake. Paul shook his head. He was sure though, that he was on to something. Lost in thought, he did not see the petite blonde walk up and knock on his car window. Startled, he looked up at Carolyn Miles as she now called herself. Chagrined, he rolled down the window.

"Now, Mrs. Miles, I'm here on government business and you can't—"

"I was just going to invite you inside, there's someone here who wants to see you."

Something in the tone of her voice excited him. Eyes lighting up, he jumped to the conclusion, "The ghost? I knew he was here, and that you couldn't live with the secret forever. You struck me as an honorable woman right off the bat, but of course, it's not an easy thing to admit in this rational era. It is Captain Gregg, isn't it? Or — I read about that Callahan fellow — was I just using the wrong name? I didn't mean to offend the ghost." By now, he was virtually babbling.

"Mr. Wilkie, just come inside with me," Carolyn said firmly.

"Oh, right."

He clamored out of the car and followed her in the house. "How did you see me? Did the ghost tell you I was there?"

"Er — well, you were kind of hard to miss," she commented neutrally as possible, opening the door as she spoke.

"Where is he?" Paul demanded, edging past Carolyn to home in on the portrait. "Captain Gregg? Sean Callahan? Helloooo!"

From his stance by the window, Daniel shot his wife a look that asked if this was really necessary, then bit back a chuckle when Paul jumped as one of the kittens snuck up on him and began to claw up his pant leg.

"He's got me!" the ghost hunter yelped.

"That's just DC," Daniel growled. "Dakota's Cat. She's in a climbing phase."

"Oh, well, where is the ghost?" Paul looked abashed.

"We've been trying to tell you that there is nothing for you to find here, you—" Daniel began as Carolyn retrieved DC and stopped another of the kittens from making an attempt to scale Mount Wilkie.

A knock cut off Daniel's heated words. With a baleful glance at his unwanted guest, the Captain went to the door, letting in a tall man clad in a black duster and, despite the lateness of the hour, sunglasses. A chilled aura clung to the figure who breezed past both husband and wife to come to stand before Paul Wilkie.

"Mister... Wilkie," the man stated in a sibilant tone.

"You aren't from the — ph-phone cops, are you?" Paul squeaked.

"You know about them, Mister Wilkie?" Precise enunciation leant menace to each word.

"Er — not much. Just — no. I haven't. Not a word." Beads of perspiration popped out on his forehead.

"Good. I'd have to reconsider... things... if you had, Mister Wilkie." Through it all, the man's face did not change, the sunglasses did not come off, and his voice remained in a monotone.

"Erk."

"Now. You will be — pleased to know that you have passed the tests we designed for you — proven that you are determined to the point of foolishness. However, there is nothing for you to find in Schooner Bay."

Finally, Paul found his voice enough to make a coherent sentence. "But — I know that there are!"

The man shook his head. "Mister Wilkie, are you arguing with ME?"

"N-no. Wh-who are you?" Paul gulped.

"That is not important. However, to reassure you, I am prepared to show you this." With the barest of movements, the stranger withdrew something from a holster at his side. To Carolyn it looked like a calculator strapped onto a broken hair dryer. "This is the most sophisticated spectral emanation detector in the world. If there was something to find, it would already be sounding an alarm. As you see, it is completely silent. Therefore, there is nothing." When the words had time to be absorbed, he continued. "However, there has been a report of spectral activity in Ireland." From a hidden pocket, papers were withdrawn. "These are your orders, Mister Wilkie. You are to go to Ireland, to Callahan Castle and investigate Colleen Callahan, a disembodied citizen of the United Kingdom. From there, you will find that there are many such citizens to investigate. When you have sufficient evidence, you will be informed of what to do next. Passports for you and your son, Eddie are in that portfolio. You are to depart immediately. Your bags are packed and ready. You have twelve hours to gather yourself and be on your way, or we may have to reconsider your position. Do you understand, Mister Wilkie?"

"Er — ah—"

The stranger shifted subtly, fixing him in a stony glare.

"Yes, absolutely — but civilians — they heard—"

"Leave that to me," the man hissed. "Now, go."

"Will — you won't hurt them will you?" Paul belatedly wondered.

"Losing your head over civilians? I won't, not if they cooperate. Go."

Hastily, Paul began stumbling over his own feet to get out while the getting was good.

A moment later, Tristan appeared. "All clear. He's motoring back to town as fast as that sedan can carry him."

The stranger's face melted into Fontenot's most familiar one as Sean and Dash appeared.

"Good work, men," Daniel congratulated them.

"If I'd had more time," Tristan mused, calling the spectral detector to hand. "Could've come up with something impressive."

"How did you get those papers?" Carolyn asked.

"Called in a favor or two at the White House. Lots of ghosts there, and I've educated more than a few of them," Fontenot shrugged.

"And Colleen is waiting for him, too," Sean nodded. "She won't say a word about us, she is grateful to Martha and Adam for revealing Callahan the First's murderer. And to the lad there for the vacation. She just wants her side of things told, too, and her grandson won't tell it, it'd besmirch the not-so-great-ghost's memory. I imagine she'll tell her side, then poof on her way to heaven."

"And the orders may never come for Misssterrrr Wilkie," Dash chuckled, drawing out the name as Fontenot had.

"Something that we'll surely be thanked for by his superiors," Daniel noted dryly.

Epilog — Several days later

Lynne was at Gull Cottage looking over paint chips and wall paper samples with Carolyn so the guys could begin as soon as the walls had been cleaned thoroughly.

The phone began ringing. After a couple of rings, Carolyn recalled that all the ghosts were out, so she'd have to do things the old-fashioned way. "Excuse me." She got up and answered.

"Mrs. Muir — oh, I'm sorry, Sean did tell me it was Miles now. Belated congratulations."

"Uh—" Carolyn began uncertainly.

"This is Vanessa — Callahan, that is. I just thought I ought to let you know that Sean's great, great grandmother has moved on — and I got him to agree to leave the castle ghostless — for now, anyway."

"Oh, that's — congratulations to you as well," Carolyn said, not quite sure what the appropriate thing to say to that was.

"Thanks. That strange little man came and — well, Colleen started acting worse than ever. Very ghostly, I mean, in the traditional sense. She's never rattled chains until now. It was like she read a book on what ghosts are supposed to do. Then, she settled down and talked to him. I listened some, it was very tragic. I guess my real great, great, grandfather was not a very nice guy. Anyway, when the story was all said and done, she started glowing, then said 'goodbye,' and was gone. Really gone. I could feel a change in the air, and it's been very quiet since then. Thank you for sending Mr. Wilkie."

"Oh, that's quite all right," Carolyn smiled. "How did he take losing his ghost?"

"Sean's taking him around the country. Ireland's full of spooks and most don't get any real attention paid to them. He could keep busy doing that for years."

"Well, thank you for letting us know, Vanessa," Carolyn concluded the conversation. As she hung up, she looked over at the doctor. "Brilliant."

End