“Get down from there right this second you headache of a person!” Mrs. Hazelwood shrieked.

Jem balanced on her tippy toes with her arms stretched overhead.

“Is that it?” Jem shouted down.

“A little left, left,” Ian shouted up.

Over the well polished parquet, Mrs. Hazelwood fluttered from the oddly dressed boy sitting in the ballroom’s corner to the oddly dressed girl standing on the massive window sill. Why had Mr Hansell

“You tell her to get down and pack up all this tomfoolery. I will not have the Lemp mansion made into a sideshow.”

“Perfect the entire room is in view and it’s loading,” Ian said behind his laptop.

With a Doc Marten stomp Jem leapt from the window sill and ran for her sound equipment.

“Don’t ignore me. The Lemp is a national treasure, one of the most beautifully restored mansions in the Midwest. I will not have this!”

“Don’t you understand no more ambiguous groans or stupid blobs of light! Our upgraded music box will give voice to the voiceless and bring the dead to virtual life. We are bringing the science back to paranormal investigations,” Jem said. She moonwalked around the grand ballroom waltzing with her boom mic.

“Old houses are still homes. Show some respect,” Mrs. Hazelwood said, feeling a sob rising inside her. “Respect my home.”

Upstairs one of the heavy doors swung open.

“Jem chill I’m picking up something already. We’re not alone. Shit Jem something is here with us.”

The two investigators bent over the screen watching a pixelated feminized figure. Ian sharpen the image until it looked a bit like an old lady. From the screen the figure said, home. The odd pair cheered.

Mrs. Hazelwood stomped upstairs.