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all tend to talk more than we should. Dylan mentioned something about it being the catalyst to you traipsing off to Scotland.”
    “I went to Scotland to get my PhD in parapsychology.” Cal huffed when the other man merely stared at him with a knowing smile. “The fact it gave me some distance was purely coincidental.”
    “Purely.” Brandon motioned toward a hallway. “She’s down here. They put her in a separate room. Looks like she hit her head pretty hard. The night shift had a doctor check her out, but other than a non-threatening concussion, he said she was fine. They kept her up until the man gave them the go ahead. She’s been sleeping since I came on shift a couple of hours ago.”
    Cal frowned, following the deputy down the corridor. “Do you mind me asking why she’s even here to begin with? I didn’t get much information over the phone, and I know for a fact she doesn’t live in Massachusetts.”
    Peters read through the papers. “Seems we got a report of suspicious activity out at the Winslow farm last night. When the patrol car showed up, she’d just bolted out of the house and fallen down the stairs. She mumbled something about ghosts and a permit, but…” He stopped and turned to Cal. “In light of the history of that place, the management company has placed a strict no trespassing restriction after midnight. There’s simply been too many accidents to let folks run around in there, even if the owners grant permission.”
    “Jordan’s hardly a curious frat student out on a dare. She’s become quite the respected paranormal investigator. I’m confident she was simply searching for otherworldly interaction and lost track of time. Night is the best chance for catching paranormal evidence. Fewer ambient noises around to contaminate the scene.”
    “As you know, the girl picked a hell of a house to investigate. We’ve had three more suicides there in the past six months. One just a couple of weeks ago.” He shook his head. “If you ask me, whatever residual energy’s hiding in there isn’t playing nicely with the living.”
    Cal gawked at the man. “So, you’re not here to tell me you think she’s crazy and to ponder how the hell Dylan and I are twins?”
    Brandon laughed. “I assure you. I’ve seen some pretty weird shit in my time. And you can’t work in Salem without at least entertaining the idea of ghosts and witches. But that doesn’t change the fact the lady was trespassing, not to mention the fact the report says she seemed… off when she arrived.”
    “No doubt due to the blow to the head. And you’re not seriously going to keep her here because she can’t tell time, are you?”
    Brandon shook his head. “It’s not quite that simple. She can’t be formally cleared until a judge signs her off. And the man just left. He’ll be back on Monday.”
    “So she’s stuck here for the better part of three days?”
    Brandon gave him the once over. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll call the judge and see if he’ll allow me to release her into your custody as long as you agree to be responsible for her and promise me you’ll have her ass back here on Monday.” He pointed a finger at Cal. “But only because I know your brother and wouldn’t hesitate to call the man up if you screw me over on this.”
    “Scout’s honor.”
    “Fine.” He unlocked the door. “She’s all yours. I’ll have the papers waiting on my desk and her personal affects in a bag. Just do me a favor?”
    “What’s that?”
    “Don’t go poking around where you shouldn’t be. We both know there’s something wrong with that house. I consider it a blessing she only hit her head. If you ask me, she was running from something far worse.” He took a few heavy steps away, glancing at Cal over his shoulder. “And I’d hate to have to tell Dylan I let his twin brother get himself killed under my watch.”
    “Point taken. I’ll do my best to tame the little minx.”
    “Good luck with that. Even