Chapter 10

 

The birds were singing loudly as the sun was coming up. I was trying to go back to sleep and hunkering down into the covers, but Argus was getting restless and jumped on the bed and started to lick my nose. Tim was still sleeping. Tim can sleep through anything and, being a light sleeper, I always resented the way he could drift off without a care. I thought of smacking him in the head, but I thought my day might be ruined by committing murder so early in the day.

“You need to go out?” I asked Argus. He began to bark and went running in circles as I stumbled out of bed. I flipped on the coffee maker as I went past the kitchen and opened the back door to let Argus out. Even though the backyard is fenced in and safe, Argus will not go out unless I go with him. It was a cold morning and I was standing there in just my briefs. I had forgotten to take a robe with me when I headed out of the bedroom. It wasn’t a great start to the day.

“It must be Tuesday,” I said to Argus as he scrambled back into the house. I hate Tuesdays! They are always the worst day of the week!

“Talking to yourself?” asked Tim. He had gotten up and was sitting at the table in the kitchen. Tim had donned sweat pants and a sweat shirt. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yes to both questions.” I went back into the bedroom and put on a heavy robe. When I got back Tim passed me a cup of coffee and sliced up some bread to make toast. I sat down and took a sip of coffee. I watched Tim move around the kitchen. I admired the graceful way he moved around the room.

“A little grumpy this morning are we?” he asked.

“Sorry. I didn’t sleep well and you know what I’m like before I have my coffee.”

“That’s for sure!”

I took another sip of coffee as Tim handed me a piece of buttered toast. The coffee was beginning to take effect and my head was clearing up a bit. Argus was on the floor under my feet and watching Tim and me, just in case we decided to drop something on the floor.

“So what’s new at the office?” I asked. “You kicked me out yesterday before I could get an update.”

“So far we have only the two cases. Bryan Landry’s missing person’s case and the museum’s supposed haunting. We know that Bryan is alive and we know that he is somewhere around Beaver Lake. As to the happenings at the museum, we’ve established our presence so we can explore without causing alarm or gossip. It seems that the museum is very careful about its image. It wouldn’t be good if it were known that it was haunted.”

“I would think a murder would be much worse publicity than a rumor of a haunting,” I added.

“Yes, but no one is paying us for that and the police are in charge of the murder investigation.”

“I know that, but if someone from my past is murdered, I take it personally.”

“Well,” said Tim slowly. “If we find anything , we can share it with the police. But as far as we are concerned, we are not getting involved!”

“Sure,” I agreed. Nothing to stop me from looking around by myself, though.

 

I had ordered two cords of fire wood to be delivered to the house. Iit would have all summer to dry and season in the summer heat before we would need it in the fall and winter. The truck pulled into the driveway and dumped the load in a pile. I gave the driver a check and then began stacking the wood. Tim came out to help me and we worked quietly and quickly.

“What are you doing tonight?” asked Tim.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked as we stacked the last of the wood.

“Tonight might be a good night to start our investigation at the museum. We can go in after the museum closes and start to debunk the ghost rumors.”

“Sounds like fun. Do you actually know what to do?”

“No. You’re the one with the ghost hunting background. I thought you would know.”

“Okay then. First we need to make a list of what people claim to think they’ve seen or heard.”

“Good. We have that. Bill Baker gave us a list of the reports that he’s collected. We have it at the office. We can swing by there and pick it up.”

“And we will need an EMF meter.”

“What the hell is that?” asked Tim.

“It’s a meter that measures electro-magnetic frequencies. It’s used by electrical workers to measure electricity leaks. The theory is that spirits use electrical energy to manifest and that we can measure their presence by reading the electrical field.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. Some people are very sensitive to electrical energy. If there is a high EMF reading in a room, it can make some people feel paranoid. They feel as though someone is watching them. They can even imagine that there is someone there with them. Often the high EMF readings are the result of unshielded electrical wires in the walls.”

“Where do we get one of those meters?” asked Tim.

“You can buy them in electrical supply stores. We can probably pick one up one the way to the museum.”

“I’m going to call Jessica. She can swing by the office and pick up the reports, then she and Derek can meet us at the museum.”

 

 

The museum was closed and alarmed when we arrived. I unlocked the staff door and Tim disarmed the alarm. The four of us headed to the conference room to review the files. Jessica handed me the files, and I read the report.

“The activity seems to have started about a year ago. Most of the reports are anecdotal, but some of them have been verified by museum staff members. The cleaning staff reports that they feel as though they are being watched when they are in the European gallery.”

“That’s hard to prove or disprove,” observed Tim.

“Though,” began Derek, “I have the same feeling when I’m in the gallery alone.”

“We should check to see if there are electrical cables running in the walls of the gallery,” I replied. “According to research, high EMF’s from electrical wires can create a feeling of paranoia. Some people are more susceptible than others.”

“We have the EMF meter,” Tim said to Jessica and Derek, “so we can check that theory easily enough.”

“The other incidences may be harder to check. According to staff reports from January, security opened up the museum and found one Hudson River painting had been removed from the wall and placed on the floor.”

“Could it have just fallen off the wall?” asked Jessica.

“Not according to the curator. The paintings are secured to the wall to prevent such things. The next incident took place in the sculpture gallery. The Zorak was moved. It normally faces out to the gallery, but in February it was found facing the wall. It weighs over sixty pounds.”

“Both of these could have been done by a practical joker,” observed Tim.

“True enough,” I agreed. “Except the fact that security cameras were unable to capture anything. The cameras do a sweep of the gallery, and according to security, everything was normal on the first sweep and then things were moved by the time the cameras did another sweep. Each sweep was less than a minute.”

“Do we have copies of the tapes?” asked Derek.

“Yes, we do. We can check them out anytime,” answered Tim.

“The next items are more interesting,” I continued. “Take a look at these!” I handed out some photos taken by visitors to the museum.

“What am I looking at?” asked Jessica. Before I could answer her she said, “Oh, I see it now. That is spooky!”

The photo showed a happy couple posing at the bottom of the stairs in the main gallery. Just above them on the stairway was the faint image of a woman. The spooky thing about the photo was that she appeared to be transparent.”

“Double exposure?” asked Derek.

“Not likely,” I answered. “Digital cameras typically don’t allow double exposures. Still there might be a logical explanation.”

“Such as…?” asked Jessica.

“No idea,” I answered. “There’s also this one.” I handed around the next photo.

“I don’t get it.” Derek was looking at the photo with a puzzled expression.

“As you can see it’s a picture of a visitor and a portrait painting behind her. Notice anything about the painting?”

“The face is kind of spooky looking, but nothing supernatural there.”

“Except for the fact,” I replied, “that it is a mirror and not a painting.” Derek let out a low whistle.

“So we were hired to debunk these happenings. It wouldn’t be good for the museum if people began to suspect that it was haunted,” said Tim.

“And there is no such thing as ghosts!” proclaimed Derek.

“Don’t be so sure,” I answered.