Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown (10 page)

“Documenting evidence,” Dave said at once.

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever,” Ron said. “That’s what Dad said we should do. So that’s why we’re hiding behind the couch in the middle of the night.”

“We’re not hiding,” Dave said. “We’re
investigating.
Just like Jason and Grant. I bet
they
wouldn’t go to bed and do nothing. If they thought there was a ghost, they’d try to find it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ron said. “They would.”

Jason and Grant weren’t do-nothing guys. They took action. Even Ron knew that. Because the truth was, he was interested in Grant and Jason’s investigations, too. He just didn’t talk about it all the time like Dave.

“What’s the EMF meter doing?” Dave asked.

“What are you talking about? We don’t
have
an EMF meter,” Ron said.

“No, but you brought the compass, didn’t you? It does the same thing. If it goes crazy, it means…” Dave said the next part slowly because he wanted to get it right. “It means the electromagnetic field is changing. So, if the compass goes crazy, it means a ghost is nearby!”

Ron shone his flashlight down at the compass.

“Nothing happening,” he reported. “It’s holding steady.”

Dave leaned in so he could see it, too. Then, as the boys watched, the needle on the compass jumped! Dave gasped. It was just a little jump at first. The needle wiggled as if it couldn’t make up its mind which way to go. Then it began to swing back and forth.

“Oh, wow,” Dave murmured. “I don’t believe this!”

“Is it getting colder in here?” Ron asked.

All of a sudden, Dave realized he was shivering. He’d thought it was just excitement. Now he knew it was something more. It was very cold in the living room. A whole lot colder than when they first got here.

“Whoa,” he said. “You’re right. That could mean a ghost has entered the area.”

“Wait a minute,” Ron interrupted. “What’s that sound?”

Dave held his breath and listened
hard.

That’s when Dave felt it. The grip of icy fingers wrapping around his arm. Dave jumped at least a foot.

He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

His throat was totally closed up as if it were being squeezed shut by a giant fist.

The grip on his arm got tighter.

“Ron,” he finally choked out. “The ghost. I think it’s got me!”

“That’s just me, moron.”

Dave looked down. He saw that it was Ron’s hand gripping his arm. He yanked his arm away, ready to give Ron a hard punch. But he stopped when he saw the startled look on his brother’s face.

“Listen,” Ron whispered. “I think I hear something.”

Dave swallowed hard. He heard it now. He heard the strange sounds, too.

Step, drag. Step, drag. Step.

Step, drag. Step, drag. Step.

“Footsteps,” Dave whispered. The room was freezing now.
This cannot be happening. It just can’t be. I’m about to see a ghost!

Step, drag. Step, drag. Step.

“That’s the same sound I heard the last time,” Ron whispered. “I think it’s him. It’s the guy!”

Step, drag. Step, drag. Step.

“I hear footsteps,” Dave whispered. “They’re coming closer!”

Step, drag.

Closer.

Step, drag.

Closer.

The footsteps came straight at Dave and Ron.

“Why’s he coming this way?” Dave whispered. “Who is he? What does he want?”

“I don’t know,” Ron answered. “That’s pretty much the problem.”

Dave ducked lower behind the couch. “Where is he? Can you see him?”

“Of course I can’t see him,” Ron replied. “I’m behind the couch, just like you are. If we want to see him, we’ll have to stand up.”

No way!
Dave thought. All of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of the compass.

“Ron, check it out. The compass is going nuts.”

Step, drag. Step, drag. Step.

“He’s right on the other side of the couch!” Dave cried.

Dave looked at his older brother. Ron was frozen in place. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

It’s up to me,
Dave thought.
Up to me to be brave, just like Jason and Grant.
Slowly, Dave reached up to grip the top of the couch. He stood up.

There was a man on the other side of the couch. A man who wasn’t supposed to be there! Who could
not
be there!

In the dim light coming in from the front window, Dave could see that the man’s face was pale. He had deep, dark eyes. They glowed eerily, locked on Dave’s eyes.

Who is he?
Dave wondered.
What does he want?

Then, as Dave watched in frozen horror, the man lifted one arm and
reached for him.

Dave screamed. The sound rang off the living room walls.

“Move!” Ron shouted. He jumped up to pull Dave back. “Now!”

The two brothers dashed frantically around the far side of the couch and ran across the living room. Dave darted into the hall. Ron shot past him and sprinted up the stairs toward their parents’ room.

“Mom! Dad!” he yelled.

Dave stopped. All his senses were screaming at him to get away. But still, he turned around back toward that ghostly figure.

The man stood by the fireplace. Half in shadow, half in light
from the window. He leaned against the mantel, as if he needed it for support.

He wasn’t staring at Dave anymore. Instead, his head hung down. Dave heard him let out a great big sigh. Then, as Dave watched, the man lifted his head. His mouth twisted, as if he was in pain. On his cheeks, something glimmered.

Tears,
Dave thought.

The ghost was crying.

“Okay, guys,” Lyssa Frye said. She hung up the phone. “I think we’ve got a new case.”

“What’s up?” Jason asked.

Grant turned his desk chair. “Yeah. Tell us. What’s the story?”

Jason and Grant were at their desks in the TAPS office. The rest of the TAPS team gathered nearby to hear about this latest case.

“I just got off the phone with a woman named Joyce Sandstrom,” Lyssa explained. “She lives with her family just outside New York City. Her house is really old.”

Quickly, Lyssa glanced down at the notes she took during the phone conversation. “It was built in the early 1770s.”

Grant’s eyes lit up. “Wow,” he said. “That’s before the Revolutionary War.”

Both of the TAPS founders loved history. It was actually one of the things they loved best about investigating. To them it was a way to learn about the past and to connect with it.

“What does Mrs. Sandstrom say is going on, Lyssa?” Mark Hammond asked.

“Both Mrs. Sandstrom and her two sons, Ron and Dave, have heard footsteps in the house. In the living room and the front hall. They also report seeing a man standing by the fireplace. And once, they saw him at the front door.”

“They’ve actually
seen
something?” asked Mike.

“Yep.” Lyssa nodded. “The only person in the family who
hasn’t
seen the ghost is Andrew Sandstrom, the father.”

“How are the boys doing with all this?” Jason asked. “How old are they?”

Lyssa knew that Jason and Grant always took tips from younger people seriously. That’s because kids are often more open to paranormal experiences. They often see ghosts when grown-ups see nothing at all.

“The boys are thirteen and ten years old,” Lyssa answered. “According to their mother, they’re doing pretty well.”

She grinned. “Joyce told me her younger son, Dave, is into ghost hunting. He watches the show every week. Often, the rest of the family joins him. Dave is making a report for the team.”

“Nice.” That made Grant smile.

“The Sandstroms would like us to come as soon as possible,”
Lyssa continued. “I checked our calendar. We could go as early as Wednesday.”

“Sounds good,” Grant said. “Let’s make it happen.”

“We thought you’d want to have this right away,” Dave said. He held out a file folder. Jason took it. Dave was sitting across from him. On the front of the folder, in big bold letters, it said:

CASE FILE #1

OUR INVESTIGATION

BY RON AND DAVE SANDSTROM

“Thanks, guys,” Jason said as he opened the folder. Grant leaned in to read over Jason’s shoulder. The TAPS team and the Sandstroms were all gathered in the family’s living room. It was kind of a tight fit.

On the outside, the house seemed pretty big. Two floors, painted white with dark green shutters. Three windows looked out on the street from the upper floor. But inside, the rooms felt small, and the ceilings were definitely lower than Lyssa liked. She had a problem with tight spaces.

People were definitely shorter in the 1770s,
she thought.
No two ways about it.

Jason held up several sheets of paper. They were filled with bold, blocky handwriting. There was also a diagram showing the living room. All the furniture had been sketched in. The drawing also showed one set of footprints in red ink, another in black.

Lyssa turned to the two boys. “So you each drew your own footprints?”

Ron, the older brother, shook his head. “No,” he said. “The black footprints show where
we
went—from the doorway to behind the couch.”

“And the red footprints?” Jason asked.

“That’s where the ghost walked,” Dave said.

“We heard his footsteps,” Ron added. “Kind of a scraping sound. It was hard to tell exactly where he was. All we could tell was that he kept coming closer.”

“But then I stood up,” Dave said. “And I
saw
him. He was standing near the fireplace.” He pointed to a red
X
on the drawing.

Grant pulled another paper from the folder, a drawing of a man in old-fashioned clothing. He wore boots, pants that came just below his knees, and a long, black coat.

“Is this the man you saw?” Grant asked.

Dave nodded. “Except his clothes were dirty and torn up. It was kind of hard to draw that.”

Ron pointed to another piece of paper. “That’s where I wrote up our notes. So we wouldn’t forget anything.”

“This is excellent. You guys did a great job,” Grant said.

“They did,” Mrs. Sandstrom agreed.

“And you’ve seen the man, too?” Lyssa asked her.

“Yes. I saw him by the front door,” Mrs. Sandstrom said. She shuddered. “He scared me. The strange clothing, the scraping footsteps, the look in his eyes… It was as if he wanted something, but I couldn’t imagine what.”

“Is that what you boys thought?” Lyssa asked.

“I’m not sure,” Dave said slowly. “I thought the man just looked tired and sad.”

Lyssa had one more question for their mother. “And you’re sure you saw the same man as your sons?”