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Allison saw the headlineShe still had a newspaper delivered each day She loved flipping leisurely through real pages while she drank her coffee

As she picked up the paper, she felt tears stinging her eyes again Julian had often been a jerk, but he’d still been a coworker and a friend She blinked hard and realized how exhausted she was She’d spent ht with the police She was still horrified that they saw Julian’s death as "suspicious" and knew that any suspicions of murder certainly included her After all, she’d found him She couldn’t believe the number of hours she’d spent at the station and then at the house when the crilanced over at the clock--it was already eleven, and she still felt exhausted It was a good thing the house was closed down until it had been "investigated" She couldn’t begin to offer a tour today, and she was glad she didn’t have a crowded schedule in the co semester, just a few lectures She felt nuh it was the love of her life Rich and giving and…

Taking It had somehow taken Julian’s life She didn’t understand hohy, but she sensed that the past had so to do with it She’d claimed that his death had to be an accident And yet…

Allison set the paper on the counter of her small house on Chestnut Street and walked over to the coffeethe few seconds for it to brew

The coffee tasted delicious She figured she needed about a gallon of it She’d been at the Tarleton-Dandridge until nearly 3:00 am, when one of the officers had driven her home

She wished she could’ve slept the entire day, and then thought she should just be grateful she hadn’t had horrible drea how Julian had looked

A shower seeht before A psychiatrist would probably tell her she was trying to wash ahat she’d seen but she didn’t care It ht make her feel more human Or at least ht about Julian and let her tears flow She thought about the many times they’d been ready to s one of them in the lurch It didn’t matter He’d still been a friend Worse, it was such a ridiculous way to die

When she’d first found him, after the initial horror and disbelief, she wondered if he’d sat there to play a prank on her,Maybe he’d tell her he’d gotten the gig of a lifetime because he’d taken off that afternoon

It had never occurred to her that anyone had killed hiic, stupid accident And that was terrible enough, but…

Why would anyone kill Julian Mitchell, and ould that person go up to the attic and trash everything there?

And how had it happened with her and Jason in the house, not to roups?

She’d barely dressed and her hair was still dripping when her doorbell rang She cringed, not wanting to see anyone, but curiosity got the better of her and she walked to the door to look through the peephole

It was the Texas ghost buster

She watched hio away

She considered it bizarre that the police had called in the FBI--and that they’d called in this unit Allison had to admit she didn’t know that much about the FBI or the "Krewe of Hunters," but she’d checked the internet when she first met Adam Harrison and read that they were a special unit sent in when circu paranor on, and it appalled Allison that a historic property like the Tarleton-Dandridge House could be turned into a supernatural oddity Of course, the ghost tours in the city loved the house and the tales that ith it, but those tours were for fun And that kind of fun was great as long as it didn’t detract from the real wonders of Philadelphia

All the information she could find about Adam--or his Krewes--seeestions that there was soather, the Kreell acquainted with the paranor cri out at Tyler Montague seemed to make it all the more ludicrous He looked as if he should be in a barbarian movie; he was tall as a house and built with pure, lean hosts?

He had waited a respectable ah, Allison threw the door open "What?" she demanded

"I need your help"

She turned and walked back through her house toward the counter that divided the kitchen fro area "With what? Do you need a cup of coffee? That I have Do you want to know about the Tarleton ghosts? Can’t help you there I’ve never seen them Oh, and I suppose I should mention this--I don’t believe they exist We have a shot at life, then we die Period I believe in God as an entity seen by different people in different ways, but I don’t think He has an open-door policy in heaven, saying, Hey, coot that"

"I could use a cup," he saidthe door He walked to the counter as she placed another pod in her coffee--to her surprise--that her house was clean and neat She had the feeling that, ghost hunter or no, he was observant and perhaps judging her character through her living space

"Thingsout an arm that indicated the sections of newspaper strewn on the table and her shoes and cape thrown on a chair "Sorry Long night"

"Looks pretty good to me," he commented

"What do you like in your coffee? Oh, and what are you doing here?"