Paranormal Agency BOOK 2 : THE FUNERAL HOME.

“Did you have fun on the show?” Greg asked her. His feet hovered above the ground as he headed with Alison back to her car.

“It was really fun actually,” she answered. “Never thought I’d be on TV for this job. Could you tell I was nervous?”

He nodded. “I could tell because I know you, but I doubt anyone else thought that. I thought it was cute though. Your leg kept shaking.”

“Okay, okay so my leg was shaking. It was the cameras and the lights. They were so bright I felt like I was in the middle of a police interrogation.” She paused. “Oh no, I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“I still have to call that one guy back. I can’t remember his name.”

“Roy?” Greg offered.

Alison’s eyes lit up. “That’s the one. Roy.”

“What’d he want?”

“Didn’t say on the voicemail,” Alison replied. “He’ll tell me when I call him back.” Alison brushed back long auburn hair back behind her ear as she spoke. She had almond-shaped blue eyes, a golden complexion, and she stood at a very slim 5′8". Greg and her shared Greek heritage with Greek mothers and Caucasian dads, which was probably the only thing they really had in common.

Greg nodded, looking bored with the conversation. They were driving back home from the airport to her house in Spring Falls, Pennsylvania, with Alison driving and Greg sitting shotgun, his entire body hovering an inch above the seat. Alison couldn’t wait to lie down and get some much needed sleep.

Alison glanced over at Greg as she drove. Death had been good to him appearance-wise. He was handsome, with dark hair, deep brown eyes and a nice body that still wore the same outfit he had died in. He had explained that, when alive, he had been a laborer in a factory and that the physical work had kept him in shape. He had said that he was an aspiring artist that been employed with a local factory called Dornoh, a company that produced spiral notebooks. His filthy attire consisted of a pair of ripped cargo pants, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and lot of sweat. His face was tan and smudged with dirt and factory dust. A five o’clock remained forever present on his chin and jaw line.

He spent his days either stalking or hiding from her. Alison had begun to wonder if a ghost could be bi-polar from the way he acted when presented with both options.

How Greg had died exactly was still a mystery to her. He kept secrets from her to the point of being offensive about it. Even after two years of friendship, he kept those secrets wrapped and bound and hidden in his head. He refused to tell her anything more than that.

Greg stood out to her for many reasons. His handsomeness was only half a reason compared to the big ones. For example, Greg was the only one that Alison couldn’t make physical contact with. He gave her some strange outer space theory he had for it, something about the way every spirit has 100 energy points daily to spend on their existence. Most spirits, especially the ones that haunted houses used that stipend all at once, appearing in strange places like attics or garages or basements for only minutes at a time or even being solid enough to be caught on film.

Greg, on the other hand, stretched that stipend to the limit, and could stick around Alison for hours at a time, morning to night. It explained why he was so transparent when he was with her. She was more used to the ones that put on a big show and were drenched in yellow aura. Instead of yellow, Greg’s aura was a faded cream color. He always looked tired.

Somehow, Greg had found a way to stretch out that stipend well. He said he used it to remain conscious of himself and ignored all offers to crossover. She had no idea why he didn’t crossover. Considering his situation, of being dead and aware of his own death and all, was normally all it took for spirits to make it to the other side. He was the only one Alison had ever met that made a conscious effort to remain a wandering soul on Earth, and with an intact mind, as well, at that.

Greg’s response to all this? “Unfinished business. Can ’t let go. I just can’t.”

There were too many surprises in her work. Alison knew she still had a lot to learn about the dead and dying.

She had been in the business of exorcising poltergeists professionally for three years and hadn’t been able to help but learn something new every day. Greg, she had met two years ago at Andrew’s Hill, Greg’s favorite thinking spot, and since then, he had tagged along just about every second of her day afterwards. He was annoying in that way but there were times when she had to admit she was glad he had come to some of the really big haunted house jobs with her.

Greg was also a crazy flirt with her, probably stemming from the last woman on Earth theory with her as the last woman on Earth. Since, the living couldn’t talk to him or make physical contact with him, he relied on Alison and the dead to keep his mind occupied while he did his own research on poltergeists. They ended up abusing each other with their craving for attention from the one another. If Greg were alive, Alison was positive they’d be annoyingly wed by now with two kids and a station wagon.