Page 6 of The Penitentiary (Ghost Seekers Inc. #1)

Callie – Monday.

T his was it. Crunch time. The first real night of investigating, yesterday’s shenanigans aside.

There was nothing quite like the buzz of the opening of an investigation.

I’d already collected my equipment from Freddie and was doing one last check, ensuring it worked.

I always used an EMF detector, which picked up the presence of electromagnetic fields.

Ghosts were assumed to produce electronic spikes when manifesting.

In addition, I’d a brand-new voice recorder.

This was fresh on the paranormal market and highly sensitive.

Allegedly, it could pick up a whisper several feet away.

We’d tested it thoroughly before I decided it was going to be a favourite of mine!

Jack was also checking his equipment over.

He was taking Levi, and I had Madi on my team, so naturally, we were accompanied by Sunny and Phil.

With Levi and Jack, Freddie was filming them. Harry remained behind with Solace, who’d be watching the monitors for any hint of movement. Merrick would be guarding the site tonight while Solace and Ashford slept and would guard us in the morning.

“Can we all confirm the two ways are working, please?” I said as the group gathered.

We conducted a check, and every single person calling in confirmed that everybody was clear, as did Solace.

Levi didn’t seem too happy at being split from Madi, but we explained that if the teams were too big, then it was likely to halt any activity.

“Does everyone have what they need?” Jack asked, and we all nodded.

Madi was using a temperature gauge. She wanted to understand how that worked in conjunction with the EMF.

Jack had his voice recorder and a REM-Pod.

Jack loved his REM-Pods and had several.

Levi had declined any equipment and preferred to use his eyes.

Each team member had a body cam to pick up any details Freddie and Phil might miss.

“Okay. Jack’s team, you’re going to cellblock twelve, while mine is heading to eight. We want base readings and to witness how the area reacts to our presence.”

Sunny scowled at my words as we separated. I guess he knew how the cellblock reacted.

I led the way into The Penn, looking around with interest. This wasn’t my first time inside. I’d helped set up the equipment, but tonight was different, and I felt it.

Madi was beside herself with excitement, while Sunny was stoic, and Phil was calm. Madi’s energy was influencing me, and the anticipation inside of me grew.

Sunny took the lead as he was wont to do, and we followed. He hesitated at the entrance of cellblock eight.

“Are you all wearing your crosses?” Sunny asked, and we nodded.

When we started this, I’d bought some silver crosses and had them blessed. After each investigation, I cleaned them with holy water to wipe any negative attachments off them. I strongly believed in their power.

“Yes, although I’m not overly religious,” Madi said with a frown.

“That’s okay, but do you believe in the cross’s strength to protect you?”

“Yeah!” Madi returned, sounding like she’d just ‘Duh’d’ me.

I rolled my eyes and grinned.

Sunny shook his head as I shoved past and entered the cell block that he, Levi, and Phil and fled from. We started on the bottom level, although the activity had occurred above us.

“Hi. My name is Callie, I’m here to talk to you and investigate what’s been happening here. Nobody here means you any harm, nor will we show any disrespect,” I called out. “If you’d talk to us, that would be great.”

We listened for a few minutes, and nothing happened.

“Take us to where you were standing when everything kicked off,” I said to Sunny.

Sunny headed upstairs, and we followed behind him. The cellblock was split in half, with cells on both sides with narrow walkways. The upper level had railings to prevent people from falling over. Of course, that didn’t stop someone from being shoved or thrown over.

“Are you here? Can you talk to us?” I inquired as I held the voice recorder out.

An hour passed as I asked questions and talked to whatever might be here.

Finally, after another thirty minutes of nothing but silence, I was ready to give up.

I was considering whether to say I didn’t believe in ghosts—hat was something that’d be provoking, and I disagreed with—when Madi spoke.

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Madi inquired.

We heard a faint hiss, and Madi startled a little. Madi’s eyes grew wide with excitement, and her cheeks flushed.

“Try again,” I urged.

“Will you talk to me? I’ve travelled a long way to speak to you. I’m from Spearfish in South Dakota, and this is Pennsylvania. Are you from here? Did you live in another state before arriving here?”

There was a hiss once more. There’d been a reply, so I hit stop on the recorder and pressed play. We all leaned in to listen closely. There was nothing until Madi spoke.

“A dame,” we caught the whisper. Unsure, I frowned, rewound, and listened again.

“That’s saying ‘a dame’,” Madi confirmed what I was hearing. We kept listening and gasped as we clearly heard ‘Chicago’ in answer to Madi’s question.

“Holy crap!” Madi exclaimed.

Madi’s temperature gauge activated, and she turned slightly so we could all see it.

“Shit,” Sunny muttered as we watched the temperature drop rapidly.

“What does it mean?” Madi asked as my EMF suddenly spiked at a three out of five.

“Callie,” Sunny said, but I ignored him.

“You’re from Chicago. Why were you here? Were you innocent of the crime you were accused of? What’s your name?” I inquired, with pauses in between to allow the spirit to answer, as my EMF hit four.

“We’ve dropped ten degrees,” Madi stated as she shivered.

“Damn. Let me see if our spirit replied.” I replayed the previous few minutes and received silence. I frowned. Last time I’d asked, I’d also been ignored.

“Madi, repeat those questions,” I said, turning to her. Madi did, and there was another hiss.

“The ghost likes Madi,” Sunny said, moving closer.

“Yeah, but why? I’m female too, and he’s ignoring me,” I mused. My eyes lit on Madi as she pulled her cardigan tighter, and I smiled.

“Madi’s clothing! It’s from the nineteen-twenties, and the spirit called her a dame! That’s how they used to address women back then. He thinks Madi is from his era,” I exclaimed.

We hit play again and listened. This time, a male voice distinctly said, ‘innocent,’ and when Madi asked his name, we got the reply, ‘Dutch.’

“Hmm,” Sunny said eloquently.

“Harry, are you receiving?” I spoke into the radio.

“Go ahead, Callie.”

“You have the full records of the prison, don’t you? Was there an inmate from the nineteen twenties incinerated? He went by the name of Dutch.” “I’ll check, but that’s over a decade of paperwork, and there’s bound to be many that fit that criteria. Can you narrow it down?”

“Okay,” I replied and turned to Madi.

“Dutch avoided replying about his crime, except that he said he was innocent.” Madi frowned.

“Try finding out if he was married. Or if he had children, and how long he was imprisoned for. Anything that could lead us to tracking him down. Dutch is probably a nickname,” I replied.

Madi’s frown deepened. “Is Dutch your real name? You like my clothes. Did you grow up in the twenties? Were you around during prohibition?”

“That’s a good question. Dutch may have been incarcerated for bootlegging,” Phil said.

“Was that why you’re here? Because you were a bootlegger?” Madi asked.

The temperature gauge pinged, and Madi gaped. “It just dropped another fifteen degrees,” she hissed.

My EMF spiked at five, and Sunny closed in on us both.

“You need to take a break,” he stated, and Madi and I both threw him a glare.

“Shush,” I murmured.

“Please tell me more about yourself,” Madi asked.

“No.”

Sunny stiffened; we all heard that clear as a bell.

“No? Why?”

“She’s a nosy dame.”

“Shut her up, Dutch.”

“She’ll get us into trouble.”

“Dame’s a peach.”

Madi grew wide-eyed as voices drifted towards us. I counted at least three.

“Do you have a gang?” I called.

“Shut up. Let the dame speak.”

“Holy crap,” Madi exclaimed.

Holy crap was right; we had three distinct voices. They sounded Chicagoan and from the twenties. Even scarier was the fact that we were getting full sentences.

“…Ain’t no snitch,” the words floated back to us.

The two-way crackled, and we jumped as Harry spoke.

“I have something. I’m tracking leads, but I found an article that states Dutch Marooney was incarcerated here.

He was locked up for a mob-related assassination, and while working for them, he was said to keep his head down.

Which made it a surprise they got him on murder,” Harry announced.

“Do we have the victim’s name?” I asked.

“Yeah. Charles Leeward, also known as The Cricket. He was a loan shark who worked for a rival, and Marooney’s side wanted him gone.”

“Thanks, Harry,” I said and eyed Madi.

“Did you know Charles Leeward—The Cricket?” Madi inquired.

A sharp hiss echoed, and a cold draught swept around us. A door banged, and we all jumped.

“Callie, be careful,” Sunny warned.

“Innocent. Didn’t… murder… frame job.”

Goosebumps appeared on my arms as something cold passed by.

“Something pinched my butt!” Madi squealed as she moved away.

Sunny reached out and dragged both of us back against his body. “Out of line, dude. You don’t pinch ladies’ asses.”

My two-way radio let out a high-pitched squeal, and Phil’s did the same. We covered our ears and looked around.

“Sunny, I think you pissed him off,” I gasped.

“Move, I don’t like this,” Sunny declared. He was right. The atmosphere had become dark; there was a sense of impending dread, and I could swear a shape moved in the shadows.

“Phil, over there,” I said, pointing. Phil turned the camera as I peered into the gloom, trying to figure out what I’d seen. I shook my head and hoped Phil would capture the elusive thing.