ENTANGLED by Jennifer Estep, Cynthia Eden, Allison Brennan, Dale Mayer, Lori Brighton, Liz Kreger, Michelle Miles, Misty Evans Edie Ramer, Nancy Haddock, Michelle Diener

client. Martha Harrison. She told us you’d done one of your interventions with her ghost last month, and she wants you on site for our investigation.”
     
    I frowned at Brick’s neutral expression. Clearly he didn’t want to lay all his cards on the table, but then he didn’t have to explain Martha Harrison to me. Elderly even by senior citizen standards and a legend in St. Augustine, she’d taught history to generations of students, fought for civil rights, and won her bout with breast cancer and lymphoma both. Far more steel than magnolia, her will was a force of nature. So much so, that I’d quaked in my sandals when Mrs. Harrison called me to do an intervention with her own home ghost, Zavier.
     
    In her accounting of the situation, Zavier had given her fits for decades and she’d steadfastly ignored him until after she took a tumble on the stairs. A screaming miracle she hadn’t broken a hip or worse, but that was her wake up call to do something about her spook.
     
    Zavier hadn’t caused Martha’s fall, so he refused to go to the Light, or to leave Martha’s house at all. Instead, we’d hammered out an agreement for him to stay quietly in the attic and leave her alone. Last I’d heard, Martha’s home was as close to spook-free as could be.
     
    Then again, if Zavier was acting as schitzy as the other ghosts in town, who knew what havoc he was wrecking?
     
    Unintentional or not.
     
    “Listen, Colleen,” Brick said, his voice placating, his energy set to soothe instead of confront. “I admit we got off to a bad start.”
     
    I snorted and crossed my arms. “Brick, you called me a scam artist.”
     
    “I conceded you might be a legitimate sensitive.”
     
    “Only after you told certain people I’d bilk them out of thousands.”
     
    “I apologized for that.”
     
    “Yeah, when one of my clients divulged to you what I actually charge.”
     
    “Okay, I had some bad information. I misjudged you, slandered you, and was an all-around ass, but that was months ago. Give me another chance. Come to Mrs. Harrison’s house with me. She won’t let us set up one piece of equipment until she talks with you.”
     
    I rubbed my forehead and thought about his request. Much as I was attracted to Brick, I didn’t want to make his life one whit easier. However, if I ignored a command appearance from Martha Harrison, I might as well take down my therapist shingle and go flip burgers. Plus I was itching to know what had the local ghosts acting so goosey, and curious as to whether I could help them regain peace.
     
    “Exactly what kind of problems is Mrs. Harrison reporting?”
     
    “Knocks all over the house, bangs and thuds in the attic, shadows moving. And she’s not the only one who’s called about paranormal disturbances. I’ve fielded more calls in the last two weeks than I have for two months.”
     
    I recalled my own uncharacteristically full calendar of clients. Ghostly activity on the rise. Angelica restless and in fear. No leap of logic to figure something out of the ordinary was afoot.
     
    Normally, ghosts aren’t destructive whether they’re seeking attention or simply going about their spirit lives. Panicked ghosts are another story. They could give off scattered, frenetic energy and not know or be able to control their own strength. Worse, a few spooks might get off on having more power to frighten home and business owners. Could I turn my back on a potential problem of that magnitude?
     
    “Please, Colleen,” Brick said. “I won’t ask anything of you again.”
     
    I gave Brick the evil eye. “If I go, I’ll do it for Martha, not for you and your team.”
     
    “Understood.”
     
    “One crack from any of you, and I’m outta there.”
     
    “Absolutely.”
     
    “Fine. Do you have a digital recorder on you?”
     
    “Uh, yeah.” Brick blinked in puzzlement, but thrust a hand in his windbreaker pocket and pulled out a voice-activated recorder smaller than my dinky