When we arrived back at the house, breakfast had just ended. I could hear tentative notes of piano music, starting and stopping. "The children will be working on chores and quiet pursuits," Elisa explained as I hung my grey coat on the rack, damp with sea mist.

"How's Thomas?" I asked.

"No more... problems," she replied. "Neither last night or this morning. I slept in his room to make sure."

"He's off somewhere drawing, no doubt," Pendelton said and she smiled by way of agreement.

I wondered at the wisdom of letting him out of sight, but said nothing.

Time was of the essence. Seeing the otherworldly creature on the cliff had given me new impetus to banish it, despite my client's doubts.

But the first step was to track it down.

Pendelton went to prepare the bones for my perusal, for I still wasn't giving up on them without a thorough inspection.

I set my bag on the table in the front hall and began assembling my tools. Elisa hung nearby, watching, as I pulled out my etheric rod, the assortment of crystal-tipped sensing pins and a jar of neutralizing salts. I secured these items in a smaller sack that I carry across my chest. "Tools of the trade," I remarked, "when it comes to the esoteric sciences."

"The esoteric sciences," she repeated. "To think that a woman can have such a profession!"

"My dear," I said, as I headed into the drawing room with her at my heels, "we are living in modern times. Women can do most anything they set their minds to, with a little hard work and... well..." I smiled. "Sometimes you just don't tell anyone what you're up to!" She laughed.

Two little girls were lying on floor pillows reading. The darker haired one looked up and shushed Elisa good-naturedly.

"I have much to do today," I said in a quieter voice, standing outside the office.

"Oh, of course." Elisa backed away slightly. "I won't intrude upon you any longer."

I normally insist upon working alone, but on a whim, I said, "Would you care to join me on my investigations? As an observer only, of course," I quickly added.

She was clearly delighted at the prospect and I had no time to second-guess my decision because at that moment Pendelton opened the door.

He showed surprise at seeing Elisa with me, but did not object. Upon seeing the bones laid out on the desk, her eyes widened.

Upon further scrutiny, it was clear that the bones came from a child, though a complete esoteric examination revealed nothing. I was forced to conclude that the bones, at present, were harboring no supernatural attachments.

We adjourned to the drawing room and the girls were sent elsewhere to read.

"Ghosts," I said, putting on my lecturing voice, "are most often attached to objects from life, sometimes seemingly meaningless ones from our points of view. An old pocket watch, a locket worn by a lover, a pair of slippers. Why, I've even seen a haunting linked to a chipped dinner plate." Pendelton and Elisa sat side by side on the sofa, as I slowly paced before them, waving the rod over various objects in the room. "This rod is highly attuned to detect etheric residues," I explained. "Do you have any of your brother's old possessions? Or have you come across anything of his lately—an old toy or something of that sort?"

Pendelton shook his head. "His old things have been gone for years."

Elisa jumped up. "What about photographs? Would that count, Miss Holte? Mr. P has been looking at a lot of old photographs lately!"

"Show me," I said.

***

The library was a grand little room. Shelves were piled high with all manner of books and a comfortable reading chair sat near the window. Several framed photographs stood on the shelves behind a desk in the corner. Most showed groups of children lined up in rows and facing the camera. "Is he in any of these?" I asked.

"No, no." He pulled a small paper box from the top drawer of the desk and handed it to me. "There aren't very many, of course," he said. "It was a long time ago."

I opened the box of old photographs. Laying them out on the desk, I saw that a tall boy with a shock of light hair was in every photo, sometimes alone, sometimes with other children. In one, he slouched with his arm draped around the shoulders of a smaller boy. A little girl stood with them. "That's us," Pendelton said. "He was 2 years older."

I held each of my sensing pins to the photograph. No change in color or temperature of the crystals. No light refraction. My clients watched as I did the same, methodically, for each picture. Nothing. I waved the etheric rod over the desk, over the box, and even in front of the pictures on the shelves.

"No," I said with finality. "Not the photographs."

As I was shuffling the pictures back into a pile, I asked about the little girl.

"Maureen," Pendelton said. "A childhood friend."

"She doesn't look very happy." He took the photo from me and held it up closer to his face.

"Ah," he replied, "I believe my brother had pulled her hair or something like that, shortly before this was taken. He was a rowdy boy, and not always prone to gentleness."

He gathered the rest of the photos and hid them away again inside their box. But for some reason, the girl's sad expression stayed with me. 

----------

After that, Elisa went to prepare for her lessons with the older children and Pendelton excused himself to his office, giving me free reign of the house until lunch.

I held my etheric rod as unobtrusively as possible, as I climbed the worn stairs to the third floor, where I was told I'd find unused bedrooms, a children's library, and the schoolroom.

I felt sure there must be something left in this house from the brother's life. A person's existence is not so cleanly erased. Something was connecting his ghost to this place. I only had to find it.

After a quarter of an hour, in and out of rooms, I was beginning to lose confidence.

Suddenly, I caught a shadowy aura at the edge of my vision. It moved, as if it were rounding the corner of its own accord. A momentary wave of dizziness washed over me and the etheric rod vibrated ever so slightly in my hand. With a few deep breaths, I quickly regained composure and hurried down the hall after it.

Around the corner, all was still, including my etheric rod. A window cast a steady light through gauzy curtains. I could see out upon the expanse of lawn leading to the cliffside and the slate-colored ocean beyond.

The only door here stood slightly ajar. I pushed it open and, half-expecting to see some spectre, I sighed in relief. The room was bare but for a simple wooden desk before one of the windows and a tattered throw rug on the floor. Upon the rug sat Thomas, surrounded by papers, crayons and pencils. He looked up. "Oh hello. It's you."

"Hello," I said. "Were you just out in the hallway?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

He shook his head. "No, Miss. I've been drawing for some time. Would you like to see?"

I bent down to look over his artwork. He had quite an impressive array of nautical subjects. "This is an excellent seashell," I said, admiring a pencil drawing.

"Thank you," he said. "It's drawn from a large one that Mr. P found for me on the beach. I do love the ocean."

Ah! "May I see the shell?" Perhaps the shell was the link to the ghost!

"Of course, Miss," he said and began collecting his papers. "It's in my room downstairs." I slipped the etheric rod into my pouch and picked up a tin of crayons.

On the way downstairs, he described the various sea creatures he liked to draw, and how since he had never seen any of them in real life, he copied them from Mr. P's science books. As he talked, I noticed how small he was, and well-spoken, for his age of 7. He seemed at ease, and content to prattle on about snails and octopi.

But as we approached the door of his room, Thomas stopped abruptly. I felt the preternatural cold on the back of my neck. Then a nebulous form darted from the doorway and disappeared just as quickly into the solid wall. My breath caught in my throat.

The boy turned to me and frowned. In an accusatory tone, he said, "Why is she afraid of you?"

"Who?" I felt a knot in my chest. "Who's afraid?"

A bigger boy hollered hello as he came bounding up the stairs two at a time.

"Hi Robbie," Thomas called pleasantly as the other boy continued on. Then he turned to me and said solemnly, "Let's not talk out here."