Givin' Up The Ghost (An Indigo Eady Paranormal Mystery) by Gwen Gardner Page B

This way.”
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    “Yeah, sure.” His jaw muscles flexed. “Someone murdered my
father, and I can’t expect to always hear what I want to hear. That’s something
I’ll get used to I guess. I just hope my mum hasn’t heard the same rumor.”
    “What Andy said is probably true, about people working
together and getting close,” said Simon. “But I’ve seen your parents together –
they were in love. No way - he wasn’t cheating.”
    “Thanks, mate.” Badger cracked a lopsided grin. 
    “This way.” He hung a right and led us to the end of the
corridor. “In here.” He tried the knob, but it didn’t turn. Reaching into his
pocket, he pulled out a chain attached to a set of keys. Selecting a key, he
inserted it into the lock and turned. “I carry his extra key since the last time
he lost it.”
    We entered, closing the door behind us. The room was as neat
as Andy’s was messy, and similar to his home office. A few folders lay open on
the desk, looking like he had only stepped out for a cup of coffee and would be
back any minute. An eerie feeling, for sure. But approaching the desk, I noted
that a fine layer of dust blanketed everything. I shivered and searched around
for the source. A flash of flowing brown hair attached to an indistinguishable,
blurry body, disappeared through the door. So. At least one person followed us
through the halls, then. I didn’t get a good look, but I had an inkling of the
spirit’s identity. Since I didn’t know for sure, I decided to keep it to
myself.
    We searched the office, grateful that it hadn’t been given
to someone else in Bart’s absence. Still, we didn’t know exactly what we were
looking for.
    “Give us a clue, Indigo.” Badger rummaged through the top
desk drawer while I searched the shelves. Simon riffled through the sketches on
the graphing table. “Is it bigger than a bread box? Smaller than a flash
drive?”
    I walked over to the desk. “I don’t know what I’m hoping to
find, but I know what I’m not finding,” I said. “His camera and cell phone.”
    “Yes. He must have had them on him,” said Badger. “So either
the killer has them or got rid of them.”
    I nodded. “Either one could have helped us. Photos or phone
calls would have been useful in helping us with what was happening up to the
day he died.” The inbox on the desktop overflowed with papers. I was hit with a
sudden idea. I thumbed quickly through the pile.
    “Well, this has been sort of useless,” said Badger, joining
Simon in the center of the office. “We may as well go.”
    “Aha!” I exclaimed, pulling a stapled packet from the middle
of the pile and waving it in the air. “Here it is.” I flicked further down the
pile and pulled out two more stapled packets.
    Footsteps in the corridor brought us up short. We froze and
stared wide-eyed at each other. I quickly folded the packets and tucked them in
my back pocket.
    “Over here!” whispered Badger, pulling me by the wrist to a
nook behind the door. Badger flattened himself against the wall and wrapped his
arms around me. Footsteps stopped outside the door, and the doorknob slowly
twisted and creaked open. A flash of pink suit appeared inside the doorway,
hand still on knob. She spoke over her shoulder to an unseen person. “They’re
not in here. They must have snuck by me.” The door closed and footsteps
receded. She would have been expecting us to check out and hand in our badges
before leaving.
    I let out a sigh, but stayed inside the circle of Badger’s
arms. After all – she could have come back. And wrapped in Badger’s arms felt
pretty darn...er, um...safe. That’s right – safe.
    We waited a few minutes, then tiptoed back into the room.
Simon came out from under the desk.
    “Whew! That was close,” whispered Simon.
    “Too close,” said Badger. “I wonder why all the security?”
    I pressed my ear against the door. “I think it’s clear.”
Opening the door, I peered out.