Ashley nodded her head in false sympathy as the nervous Dad ramble about the victim. The girl was already dead...she could feel it in her soul. That and the ringing in her ears. Well, ringing wasn't exactly the right word for it. It sounded like soft whispers on a mid-summer breeze.

Her concentration was broken by Will's slightly scratchy yet smooth voice. "How's the cat?"

She bit the inside of her cheeks in an attempt to not laugh. It was not the time or the place, but Will was making her job of 'watching and staying silent' mighty difficult.

Her green eyes glanced at him as she quickly caught on. If she never made it home, the cat would be hungry. But they wouldn't have to search far for the body...for it was right upstairs. Ashley could sense its presence like a weighted blanket hovering over her.

The first chance she got, Ashley departed "for the bathroom". She could hear the voice of the victim calling her name like a slight breeze in an open field. Slowly she closed the door behind her using her sleeve as a glove.

Confidently she stood in front of the body — feet parted slightly and her hands in a prayer position under her chin — and questioned the ghost. Ashley only paused when she heard the creak of floorboards and voices. Desperately she threw herself against the door. The girl's dad didn't need to see this.

The doorknob twisted as someone — most likely Will or the Dad — attempted to open the door. Her suspicions were confirmed when her teacher's timid voice called out from the other side of the door. "Ashley?"

The right side of the teen's body was pressed against the door as she answered. "Mr. Graham, is the Dad of the daughter with you?"

The stranger spoke up. "Yes, I-I'm here."

Ashley's head jerked slightly as she attempted to move her hair out of her eyes. "Sir, I think it would be best if you return downstairs. I think you should fetch Agent Crawford."

She could feel the mood shift on the other side of the door and the commotion between the two men before the sound of heavy retreating footsteps. "Ashley, it's just me now. Jack'll be up in a second. Can you open the door?"

It was silent for a moment as she pushed herself to a full standing position and with a soft click, she turned the knob. His blue eyes shifted from her green ones to the body behind her. The teen shifted awkwardly to the side as she let him in. "I just wanted to state that she was like this when I found her, and I did not, in fact, put her here. Just in case there was any confusion on my part."

Will glanced at her before walking closer to the body, closing the door behind him. "I know."

Her face flickers momentarily at his soft tone before her poker face is set once more. "Good, because I'm too young to be tried for murder."

Will brushed off her comment as his calculating eyes scanned the body before him. "What do you see?"

Her eyes shifted to the ghost before focusing on the body before her. "Whoever they were, she let them in. She was strangled right..." she paused for a moment and closed her eyes before pointing. "Here. Her body was relocated for convenience and she was mounted. But there was something wrong with her, which is why he brought her back." She nodded her head firmly in his direction. "Why, what do you see?"

He was so deep in his trance that he didn't notice another woman enter. He didn't notice his student's argument falling on deaf ears, and he didn't notice when she left the room in a frustrated huff of "No one ever listens to me."

So needless to say, when Beverly Katz spoke up, he was quite literally shocked out of his vision and his thought process was much like a train being thrown from the rails.

He frantically glanced around, but the small brunette was nowhere to be found. His anxiety quickly faded to annoyance as others filed into the room. What part of 'alone' don't these people understand?

Since he was having trouble focusing anyways, he exited the room, the panic filling his chest once more, like an angry swarm of bees. The Minnesota Strike had been here, and now Ashley, who fit the description of the victims, had vanished without a trace.

Will had been so intent on finding her, that he completely missed her sitting on the front steps. If she hadn't moved to catch him, he would've face-planted into the concrete as he tripped over her.

Quirking an eyebrow, she glanced up at him. "You okay?"

Will nodded slowly. "Y-yeah, I'm perfectly fine." His cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he tried to brush off his earlier burst of panic. "What are you doing?"

Ashley let go of him and glanced at her papers, notebook, and pencil which littered the ground, abandoned. "I was trying to do schoolwork. Sorry, I should've told you I was leaving, but I felt like you were dealing with enough distractions."

Picking up her stuff gently, she patted the ground next to her. "So, what did you see? Were my conclusions correct?"

Will say down awkwardly. "I was... interrupted. But from what I could tell, yes. Like a bloodhound,  you seemed to be able to sniff out what had happened." He glanced at her, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion, but regardless he tossed her an ill-fitting smile, seeming almost at a loss for words. "How did you know?"

She glanced down to the papers in her lap and shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it, I've just always been in tune with, well, death. Guessing causes always seemed to come naturally to me." Well, actually, I do know how to describe it, but not without sounding batshit crazy, Ashley thought bitterly to herself. "I suppose you could say I'm somewhat of a psychic myself."