A/N: Hi, everyone! How's it going? Good, I hope. Please read and enjoy chapter 3!
Colt did not sleep after that. After one quick sweep of the apartment to ensure the boy was gone and not just relocated, she retreated back to the room quickly jotting down a description of the boy and revving up her laptop to begin searching for a name to the face.
Silence echoed through the room, leaking in under the closed door from the hallway. Realistically, she knew that Sally and her husband—Paul, Colt thought his name was—were right across the hall sleeping, but it did nothing to stop her racing mind. She itched with the need to wake Sally up and get the whole story—should've demanded it from her before even considering sleep.
One thing was sure, Sally Jackson was being haunted by a ghost. This was okay though, well, not okay because, you know, ghost, but okay as in she could handle it. She was going to salt the apartment while breakfast was cooked because she wouldn't be able to get into Sally's room that night without waking her up, and as far as she could tell, the ghost was not aggressive.
The problem with trying to find the boy from any type of database was that she knew nothing about him besides male and young. She had no exact age, name, hometown (Percy told her not every demigod that went to Camp was from New York), or whether or not he was even reported missing or dead. Did demigods even do that? How would they explain it? Like hunters did? Who did the explaining?
It would probably be easier to just call Percy and describe the kid to him; Percy probably knew him or could guess parentage and ask someone else. Colt had promised though, and she felt guilt gnawing at her for even thinking of disrupting his good time. She had spent enough time with him to know that it was a rare occurrence for him to sit back and relax.
Getting nowhere, Colt finally shut her laptop and changed into new clothes. She lugged a bag of salt behind her as she entered the kitchen where she heard Sally rummaging around.
"Good morning," Sally greeted with a smile when Colt slipped into the room. She obviously had a better night sleep than the hunter, Colt thought dryly.
"Morning. Mind if I salt the doors and windows?" Colt asked holding up the bag of salt. "The salt lines will prevent ghosts of getting in."
Sally looked at it curiously, but nodded. She was taking this in stride. Although, with a son that's the demigod child of the Greek god Poseidon, a ghost was probably one of the most unimpressive things the woman had ever experienced.
I-I think I may be haunted by a… Well, a ghost of all things. Colt remembered the shakiness of her voice over the phone. Either Sally felt better after a good night of sleep or she had a lot of faith in her son's friend that she had never met before, maybe it was both.
Sally shooed her with a hand when Colt stalled in the kitchen. "Go ahead. Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes."
Making her way carefully around the house, Colt poured careful lines over every window and door. She also did any vents on the floor or wall; Colt didn't know if the ghost could get through that way by first getting in to a different apartment, but it was better to be extra safe, than very sorry.
When she got back to the kitchen, there was a new figure present. The man was probably closer to Bobby's age than Dean's, but he was by no means old. This must be Paul Blofis, Colt realized, though it was odd she hadn't seen him before since the apartment wasn't that large to begin with.
He wasn't surprised to see her, not that she expected Sally to not tell him about the girl staying in their apartment. She wasn't quite sure if he knew about the ghost though or what she did, so she decided to follow Sally's cues. It was frustrating to be this unprepared. Colt definitely was regretting not enforcing the need to discuss the case before she even considered going to bed.
"Colt, this is my husband Paul," Sally introduced, waving a spatula between the two named people "He's an English teacher at Goode." She vaguely remembered the name of the school from one of Percy's many stories.
She nodded in greeting at the man, taking the seat Sally had gestured to. He responded in kind, seeming just as lost about this as she was. It didn't seem to be an issue for Sally though, because she simply chattered away in that happy, carefree way of someone having a great day with great people and everything was just great. It wasn't an attempt to distract or fill the silence though. Sally seemed to genuinely want to share her stories with Colt. Percy and his mother were strikingly similar when they told stories of things they enjoyed (usually about each other). Their eyes lit up and neither could quite hide the blinding smile. Colt bet that if Sally wasn't keeping her hands busy with cooking, eating, and then cleaning breakfast, she would have been gesturing with practically wind milling arms as she wove each new tale about something from Percy's childhood.
Colt had offered to help clean the dishes after Paul left for work, but Sally waved her off, telling her to grab whatever she needed for the impending conversation about ghost boy. After debating a moment in Percy's room, she ended up just grabbing her whole bag. Slinging it over one shoulder, Colt made her way into the living room, sitting on the edge at the opposite end of the sofa from Sally.
She opened her journal, flipping past old notes, the description of the ghost boy and her encounter, some scribbled down names with numbers attached, to a blank page. She smoothed it out, clicking her lucky purple ink pen, and turned to Sally.