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Society. Silly acronym,
isn’t it? It’s a lovely group, though, and very scientific. We seek
to solve the age-old mysteries of life after death, hauntings,
demonic possessions, clairvoyance, and poltergeists.”
    “Poltergeists?” Pixie asked, her face a
frozen mask.
    Savannah turned her smile on the girl. “Yes.
That’s German for ‘noisy ghosts.’ Poltergeists are known for their
disruptive and malicious behavior. I’m particularly interested in
them because I had a poltergeist experience in my teens that I’ve
never forgotten. It darned near scared the life out of me! I have
high hopes we can call one tonight.”
    “I think you’ll find that most of what
you’ve read about polters is fabrication, created to sensationalize
rather than inform,” I said quickly.
    “ ‘Polters’ being poltergeists?” Savannah’s
brow furrowed.
    “Sorry, yes.”
    Her frown cleared. “Oh, are you interested
in them, as well?”
    Pixie sent me a warning glare. It was
unnecessary: I had no intention of allowing the woman before us to
see the extra set of arms that Pixie kept hidden beneath the cape.
The kid had enough problems without having her heritage exposed.
“I’m familiar with the history of poltergeists, yes.”
    “Excellent! I knew you were a fellow
enthusiast!”
    “ Enthusiast might be an
overstatement. About this séance tonight—I happen to know the new
owner of the house, and I’m sorry to say that I really don’t think
he’d be overly pleased to have people traipsing around inside. From
what I understand, it needs quite a bit of work, so it could
actually be dangerous to go in there—”
    “You know the owner?” she
interrupted.
    “Well… yes. He’s my husband, actually.”
    Her face lit up with happiness. “You’re the
owner’s wife? Oh, that’s wonderful! There will be no problem, then,
if you’re along with us!”
    “Oh, I’m not here to join your group—”
    “But you just said you’re interested in
poltergeists, so of course you must come!” She beamed at me as she
gave my hand a little squeeze before moving off to her car. “Both
of you!”
    “I’ll come,” Pixie said quickly with a
defiant glance my way.
    “Regardless of my interest, my husband isn’t
going to be pleased with the idea of people holding a séance in a
house he’s about to sell.”
    That stopped Savannah dead in her tracks.
She whirled around to face me. “Sell? Your husband is going to sell
this fabulous resource?”
    “I’m not privy to his thoughts, but I
believe that is his intention, yes.”
    She rushed back over to me, her face
clouded. “But you can’t let him! This house is absolutely unique!
There’s not another like it on the entire peninsula! There have
been hauntings here for the last one hundred and ten years! If new
owners come along… who knows what they will do with it! They may
not provide an environment in which the spirits will thrive!”
    “Or perhaps the new owners will be as
enthusiastic as you to have the house investigated,” I pointed
out.
    Her eyes narrowed on nothing for a few
moments while she thought. “No,” she said, shaking her head and
marching back toward her car. “I can’t allow that. This house is
too important. My husband will talk to the owner and make him see
reason.”
    I didn’t bother telling her that the person
who could change Spider’s mind once he had made it up hadn’t been
born. Instead, I murmured polite, noncommittal noises of vague
agreement.
    Savannah’s frown lightened when she rolled
down her window and waved at me. “We’ll start the investigations
proper at eleven, so I hope you are up for a late night. The séance
is at midnight, as I mentioned earlier. I’m so pleased you’ll be
joining PMS!”
    “I… but I… I don’t—You haven’t listened to
me at all, have you?”
    “Wear something old that you don’t mind
getting dirty,” she called as she pulled away. “We’re bound to have
an evening to remember!”
    “I have a