High Intensity by Dara Joy Page B

constructed—maybe as an emergency exit or for some other reason we aren't aware of yet. What do you know about the history of the house?"
    "Not much. Just that it's been in Todd's family since it was built in 1835. Apparently it's been an inn for most of its history. The family has added a few rooms along the way and modernized both the plumbing and kitchen over the years, but basically the house has retained most of its original characteristics."
    "Hmm." Tyber came back inside, securely locking the French doors behind him.
    "Since this has been an inn all this time, and so many people have been in residence here throughout the years, theoretically our ghost could be just about anyone from the past with an axe to grind."
    Tyber had different ideas. "Or anyone from the present with an axe to grind."
    Zanita stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweater. "Possibly. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. I don't think anyone was ever murdered here, but it's very possible a guest might have died while in residence… although Todd told me it had never been mentioned to him in any family lore. Depending on what happens tonight, Calendula said she may try channeling the spirit."
    Tyber stared at his wife with a deadpan expression. "Channeling."
    In that moment, it was painfully obvious to him how much he loved her. He could be at home right now, playing the fourth level of Nukestar on his computer. Then there was that awesome new hybrid action-adventure game, Quest for Killing, in which the player shot every single living and nonliving thing in existence in a manly rampage while solving Mensa puzzles between kill-fests. At the end of the game, the winner even got to play solitaire (since he would be the only one left alive).
    Now, that was quality entertainment.
    Instead he was about to watch a woman go into a self-induced wig-out so she could speak to a dead guest. True love, baby. True love.
    Zanita lifted her chin in challenge. "Yes, channeling. And I don't want to hear one word."
    "Mmmm-mmmm-mmmmm. I just go crazy when you get rough with me."
    On this first night of observation, they had agreed to set up shop in the library. After the dinner hour, the ghost most often caused mischief in the library, focusing on Todd's extensive cookbook collection. Calendula and Mark hoped to capture the poltergeist activity that had been observed by Todd and some of his guests.
    Tyber glanced at his watch. "We did say we would meet back in the library at
midnight
. It's show time, baby."
    Mark had already set up most of his equipment in the library. Wires and cameras were strung everywhere across the floor, and they had to carefully pick their way through the complex network. It was a warm room, with deep tones of red on the walls and furnishings. A lovely wrought-iron circular staircase faced the oak bookshelves.
    Gramercy Hubble was standing by a large marble fireplace, a supercilious smirk on his face as he watched the setup with obvious contempt. "The trappings of science without the substance," he muttered to Tyber.
    "At least give them a chance, Hubble." Tyber spoke in a low voice to the psi-cog and nodded a greeting to Calendula.
    Hubble snorted. "Do you really think we're going to experience anything here that can't be explained in rational terms?"
    "I don't know what we're going to experience, and neither do you. We need to be unbiased to objectively observe the experiment. Then we'll take it from there… as scientists from a scientific prospective."
    Hubble liked that. "Right," he agreed. "We remain logical men, true to our rationality."
    That was not exactly what Tyber had said, but he rationally let it go. For Hubble, this ghostly horseman was never going to ride. There was no sense in beating a dead horse.
    Zanita took a small brownie square from the refreshment cart. It was almost like a piece of fudge, it was so rich. "Mmmm. No wonder the ghost hangs out here, Todd. This is delicious!"
    "Smile, Curls!"
    Zanita looked