"You're seriously telling me that what happened at the Balmont place wasn't enough of a demonstration?" she asked as they made their way up the steps of the abandoned hotel. "Because, I don't know, I feel like staring down an angry dead guy and getting pelted with furniture should've covered it."

Ray offered an apologetic shrug. "You were great back there, don't get me wrong. But, you know… Peter."

Peter, who was walking ahead, tossed a smirk over his shoulder. "Oh, please , don't make this about me. Egon was the one who wanted more data before making it official."

Marie rolled her eyes. "And yet Egon isn't even here."

Ray sighed. "We just want to make sure you're comfortable working with us before we jump into anything official. No pressure."

Marie gave him a look but let it slide. The building's new owner was already waiting for them inside the grand, crumbling lobby. He looked barely thirty, his suit was clearly expensive, and his smug expression immediately set Marie's teeth on edge.

"Gentlemen," he said, all forced charm as he clapped his hands together. "And… lady " he added as his eyes raked over Marie unashamedly.

The hotel lobby still held a trace of its former grandeur, despite the thick dust blanketing every surface. Faded murals adorned the vaulted ceiling, and a grand chandelier loomed overhead, its crystals dulled with age. The place smelled of old wood and neglect, but beneath it all, there was something else - a weight in the air, like the building itself was watching them.

Ray adjusted the straps of his equipment bag and let out an appreciative whistle. "You know, with a little TLC, this place could really shine again."

Peter scoffed, poking at a dust-covered chaise lounge. "Yeah, if you love asbestos." He turned to the hotel's new owne with a smirk. "So, champ, what made you wake up one day and decide to buy a haunted hotel?"

Cavanaugh gave an easy grin. "It's called vision, my friend. This place has history, charm… it just needs the right person to bring it back to life."

Marie arched an eyebrow. "And the ghosts?"

He gave a casual shrug. "A minor inconvenience."

Ray had already pulled out his PKE meter, adjusting the settings as he slowly turned in a circle. "What kind of disturbances have you been dealing with?"

Cavanaugh exhaled like he was indulging a pointless formality. "The usual. Cold spots, flickering lights, objects moving when no one's looking. Some of the guys I hired to start renovations walked off the job - one of them swore he heard someone laughing in an empty room." He rolled his eyes. "I told them it was probably just the pipes."

Marie arched a brow. "Pipes don't usually laugh."

The man's attention was drawn back to her.

'Hey, why don't we get a drink after this? I know a place that actually has lights that work…"

Marie's expression didn't change, but Peter's eyes narrowed slightly.

Cavanaugh reached out and ran his knuckles down Marie's arm, pausing at her wrist. "Come on, I'll make it worth your while…"

Marie turned her head and looked at his hand. Then back up at him.

"I don't need you to make anything worth my while," she said flatly.

Ray stopped what he was doing entirely, his attention now fully on the conversation.

Peter clapped his hands together. "Okay! I love this part. This is the part where I get to say 'hands off the psychic, pal.'"

Cavanaugh grinned, clearly not taking the hint. "Relax, it's just a drink."

Marie smiled sweetly. "Oh, totally. You're so right."

He preened.

She tilted her head. "Hey, you know who else thought this place was an investment opportunity? The original owner. Right before the market crashed and he lost everything."

The man's grin faltered slightly.

"And you know what's really funny ?" Marie continued, voice lilting. "He still thinks he owns it. And now here you are - some entitled little brat waltzing in thinking you can do whatever you want." She leaned in just a little. "I bet he hates that."

As if in cue, a door slammed somewhere deep in the building, the sound reverberating around the lobby. Dust gently fell from the ceiling as the impact made the chandelier shake slightly.

Cavanaugh flinched.

Peter snorted. "Oh, that's good."

Marie smirked. "And you want us to get rid of him? Why? He's not hurting anybody."

Ray caught on immediately. "She's right," he said, nodding. "From what you described, this isn't even a violent haunting. No poltergeist activity, no threats. You just want to sanitise the place so rich people don't get spooked."

The man hesitated, clearly thrown. "Well, yeah, but-"

Peter clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. I think we're gonna pass on this one, buddy."

"You what?"

Ray offered a polite smile. "We reserve the right to refuse service."

The guy's face turned red. "I'll pay you."

"Oh, we know ," Peter said, steering Marie toward the door with a casual hand on her back. "You seem like the type who thinks throwing money at problems makes them disappear. But, uh-" He flashed a grin over his shoulder. "This one? Not our problem."

Marie stole a glance back at the guy's stunned expression and laughed.

"Well," she said, looking between Peter and Ray as they stepped out into the night air. "That was fun."

Ray exhaled. "That guy was awful."

Peter shot her a sideways look. "You know, you probably just guaranteed he gets haunted extra hard."

Marie's lips curved. "Oh, I know."

Ray grinned and Peter chuckled. Maybe bringing her along had been the right idea after all.