that he seemed to immediately align himself with Tyber. So far, her temporary husband had done nothing to dissuade Hubble of the notion that they were in agreement.
Her mouth firmed. Tyber had promised to be objective! Sure, the beignet/waffle stories had their holes in the batter, but that didn't mean they weren't dealing with the genuine article now. There was a lot of unexplained phenomena going on in this place. Besides, the house had a certain creepy feel to it that bespoke supernatural happenings.
She wondered why weird things always seemed to occur at places like this, then reasoned that the atmosphere just lent itself to it. Sort of a feng shui for ghosts.
As a matter of fact, she couldn't recall any instances of ghosts in sleek new high-rise penthouse apartments.
Zanita made a mental note to ask Calendula if she knew anything about feng shui and, if so, whether it had played a part in any of her past investigations. The energy of this house, along with the layout, was very convoluted. Lots of places for spirits to get "stuck."
Reluctantly, Zanita turned to Gramercy Hubble. "Mr. Hubble, how does your society explain the photograph that Mark took?"
Just before they had gone in to dinner, Mark had shown them a Kirlian photograph in which he had captured a spirit hovering in front of the fridge over a platter of Long Island duckling. It was a rather large, fat blob of white smoke. In the center of the top portion of the picture was a bright red circle. Mark had explained that this was where the spirit's energy was strongest. Near its mouth.
Which made sense, since the haunt seemed to be so enamored of fine dining.
"Nonsense! It's all nonsense!"
Zanita gritted her teeth. Gramercy Hubble was going to make this a long weekend.
"The Society for Cognitive Reasoning has long known that Kirlian photography is a sham. It proves nothing and shows nothing." He swallowed a huge bite of Todd's Nine Pepper Pork and began coughing. Calendula smiled like a sorceress.
Patting him on the back, Tyber handed the man his glass of wine. When he had stopped coughing, he turned to Calendula and said, "Suppose you're going to say the ghost did that, Ms. Brite?"
"Wouldn't think of it, Mr. Hubble."
Her remark was an insult either way it was interpreted. Mentally, Zanita gave the lady medium the "okay" sign. At this point she didn't care if Gramercy Hubble made sense or not. Nobody ever likes a smartass.
"Hey, what's all this Mr. and Ms. stuff? C'mon, everybody, we can be more informal than that." Todd stepped in as host to lighten the atmosphere.
Mark put his fork down. "I don't understand how you can say that, Hubble, when it has been shown that we can illustrate electromagnetic radiation coming directly from a nebulous source."
Well, at least Mark's down to calling him Hubble, Zanita thought.
"Rubbish! What do you say, Dr. Evans? Or should I say Tyber?"
"Tyber is fine." He glanced over at Zanita. His love was staring at him with the tiny violet slits. In the interest of his own survival, he paused, twirling his glass thoughtfully, before he responded diplomatically, "Kirlian photography has its supporters and detractors. What I'm interested in is how you got that picture, Mark, and what it shows."
Mark seemed flustered. "Well, I was visiting Todd one night"—he hesitated briefly before continuing—"and I happened to go into the kitchen for a late-night snack. The refrigerator door was wide open, and there he was! I knew what had been happening here from Todd, so I always kept a camera close by. It was a good thing, too, because as soon as I snapped the picture, he vanished."
"How convenient," Hubble sneered.
"Are you saying I doctored that picture?" Mark was getting hot.
"It's not a difficult thing to do. In fact, photographs are the easiest medium to tamper with—which is why they are not allowed as evidence in courtrooms anymore. Unless, that is, they are Polaroids. We psi-cogs won't even look at regular
Her mouth firmed. Tyber had promised to be objective! Sure, the beignet/waffle stories had their holes in the batter, but that didn't mean they weren't dealing with the genuine article now. There was a lot of unexplained phenomena going on in this place. Besides, the house had a certain creepy feel to it that bespoke supernatural happenings.
She wondered why weird things always seemed to occur at places like this, then reasoned that the atmosphere just lent itself to it. Sort of a feng shui for ghosts.
As a matter of fact, she couldn't recall any instances of ghosts in sleek new high-rise penthouse apartments.
Zanita made a mental note to ask Calendula if she knew anything about feng shui and, if so, whether it had played a part in any of her past investigations. The energy of this house, along with the layout, was very convoluted. Lots of places for spirits to get "stuck."
Reluctantly, Zanita turned to Gramercy Hubble. "Mr. Hubble, how does your society explain the photograph that Mark took?"
Just before they had gone in to dinner, Mark had shown them a Kirlian photograph in which he had captured a spirit hovering in front of the fridge over a platter of Long Island duckling. It was a rather large, fat blob of white smoke. In the center of the top portion of the picture was a bright red circle. Mark had explained that this was where the spirit's energy was strongest. Near its mouth.
Which made sense, since the haunt seemed to be so enamored of fine dining.
"Nonsense! It's all nonsense!"
Zanita gritted her teeth. Gramercy Hubble was going to make this a long weekend.
"The Society for Cognitive Reasoning has long known that Kirlian photography is a sham. It proves nothing and shows nothing." He swallowed a huge bite of Todd's Nine Pepper Pork and began coughing. Calendula smiled like a sorceress.
Patting him on the back, Tyber handed the man his glass of wine. When he had stopped coughing, he turned to Calendula and said, "Suppose you're going to say the ghost did that, Ms. Brite?"
"Wouldn't think of it, Mr. Hubble."
Her remark was an insult either way it was interpreted. Mentally, Zanita gave the lady medium the "okay" sign. At this point she didn't care if Gramercy Hubble made sense or not. Nobody ever likes a smartass.
"Hey, what's all this Mr. and Ms. stuff? C'mon, everybody, we can be more informal than that." Todd stepped in as host to lighten the atmosphere.
Mark put his fork down. "I don't understand how you can say that, Hubble, when it has been shown that we can illustrate electromagnetic radiation coming directly from a nebulous source."
Well, at least Mark's down to calling him Hubble, Zanita thought.
"Rubbish! What do you say, Dr. Evans? Or should I say Tyber?"
"Tyber is fine." He glanced over at Zanita. His love was staring at him with the tiny violet slits. In the interest of his own survival, he paused, twirling his glass thoughtfully, before he responded diplomatically, "Kirlian photography has its supporters and detractors. What I'm interested in is how you got that picture, Mark, and what it shows."
Mark seemed flustered. "Well, I was visiting Todd one night"—he hesitated briefly before continuing—"and I happened to go into the kitchen for a late-night snack. The refrigerator door was wide open, and there he was! I knew what had been happening here from Todd, so I always kept a camera close by. It was a good thing, too, because as soon as I snapped the picture, he vanished."
"How convenient," Hubble sneered.
"Are you saying I doctored that picture?" Mark was getting hot.
"It's not a difficult thing to do. In fact, photographs are the easiest medium to tamper with—which is why they are not allowed as evidence in courtrooms anymore. Unless, that is, they are Polaroids. We psi-cogs won't even look at regular
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