Southern Haunts Read Online Free

about to give you everything we’ve worked hard to achieve. You are here to help us, not the other way around.”
    “Well, if you think we’re going to be filling out reports for your file, you’re crazy.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of asking for you to behave professionally.”
    “Hey, we’re plenty professional. But we’re not ghost hunters playing at finding out about the supernatural and hoping to get picked up for some reality TV show. This world goes so far beyond ghosts, you have no idea.”
    “We care about our clients. We’re not trying to get a TV deal or anything like that.”
    “You’re poking a stick at a lion and you think all this paperwork and professionalism is going to shield you, but you’re wrong. So, instead of testing us, maybe you should take the backseat and let us lead.”
    Sandra waved her hand between them. “That’s enough.”
    “Aw,” Drummond said. “Don’t stop them. That was fun to watch.”
    “Max, it doesn’t matter who is in charge. We’ve been hired to come in and use our unique skills to save a pregnant woman, and that’s what we will do.” Sandra lowered her voice and spoke in a sharp, deliberate pace. “You, too, Libby — the Darians hired us to come in and use our unique skills to help them, and that’s what we will do. Understand?”
    Libby bristled as she packed away her papers. “Fine. But you should know that I take this very seriously. If you do the slightest thing to jeopardize what we have accomplished to this point, I won’t hesitate to do all I can to pull you off this case.”
    “Fair enough.”
    With a sheepish grin, Jack Deere flicked some earbuds across the table. “Man, you guys are so intense; you’re going to go nuts over this. Check out what we recorded last night.”
    Max and Sandra tentatively picked up the earbuds and listened in. Jack tapped on his smartphone for a moment. “What you’re about to hear was an EVP recorded around two-in-the-morning.”
    “EVP?”
    Libby subtly rolled her eyes. “Electronic Voice Phenomenon. The best is Class A which requires no editing or enhancement.”
    “Very rare,” Jack said growing more excited as he spoke. “Class B has some enhancements and might include discrepancies that are open to interpretation. Class C means heavier editing and thus, more discrepancy.”
    “Anything beyond that is too questionable for our standards.”
    “This recording we made last night needed only one gentle filter pass to take out some of the extraneous noise. This is Class B bordering on Class A. It’s freaking incredible.”
    Max felt a nervous edge cross his skin as he covered his ears in order to hear better. He had fought witches — both dead and alive — knew a ghost and had dealt with magic on numerous occasions. Yet eavesdropping on the dead triggered an uneasiness in his stomach.
    It was as if he was a kid watching a horror movie late at night, and somehow he both knew and was oblivious to the approaching steps of his mother. If she dared to utter a sound, he would hit the ceiling with a churlish scream. But she wouldn’t. This existed in his head, and she would forever be approaching.
    Finally, Jack pressed his phone’s screen, and Max could hear the sound of Libby’s recorded voice.
     
    LIBBY (tired): What is it?
    JACK: Camera 2 is picking up something.
    LIBBY: Carl? You got anything?”
    CARL: Nothing.
    JACK: Shh. Everybody shut up.
     
    The group became still. Max could hear soft breathing. He pressed his ears tighter. He thought he heard a ticking clock.
    The music that blared full-volume caused him to jump out of his seat. Sandra startled, too. A roaring blast of trumpets and trombones. A rowdy, big number that screamed of the 1920s. As Max’s heart settled back down his throat, he could practically hear the flappers doing the Charleston.
    The song lasted no more than ten seconds. After that, silence.
    Stunned, Max and Sandra removed their earbuds. Libby flicked back her hair with a bit of