Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) (9 page)

“So, you have every belief in my sister, do you, but what
about me?” She put her right hand on her hip to convey her anger. Iris was
beginning to get miffed at losing the reigns to this investigation. She wanted
DJ back but not to become the group’s leader. She was also beginning to become
a little jealous she wasn’t at the center of Mitch’s attention. And she
wondered if Mitch even entertained any kind of relationship with her. After
all, she was a skeptic.

Mitchell took the hand that was on her hip without a
fight. “I thought you would never ask. But I am willing to show you how much I
believe in you.” Mitchell cupped Iris’s left hand into his right palm. He gazed
into her eyes until she smiled. Iris didn’t break the gaze. “I really believe
you are a good person at heart,” he said.

 
“I believe
you are too. I just hope that will be enough,” she whispered. He placed his
left hand on her cheek and engaged her in a tender kiss. “Good. I’m glad we got
this out of the way. We both like each other.” She smiled. “But we both have a
lot of work to do on this investigation. I promise you, I won’t let feelings
get in the way.”

“I’ll be damned if I let them get in the way either,”
Mitch said, moving in for another kiss.

Iris allowed herself a few moments of passion with Mitch
before she whisked her phone from its place on the kitchen table. She requested
Mitchell pose for a picture. “There, I got it,” she said. “Now you may go. Get
some rest and drink that green tea Evan got you. Remember, in his words, you
should purify before the communion.”

“I will, I will. See you tomorrow night. It seems our
investigation is really heating up.” He smiled with a mischievous twinkle in
his eye.

After Mitchell left, Iris spent a long moment smiling at
his picture. She set the phone back down the table and scurried upstairs, a mix
of emotions competing for her attention.

I
N HIS
BEDROOM
, Dan Camden cupped his
hands around his face. Via a computer interfacing with his daughter’s new
iPhone, Dan had been privy to quite a bit of information tonight. He too, was
filled with competing emotions. What was this dial object? What had his
daughters gotten into? But even without access to his psychic abilities, he
knew the answer: trouble.

S
PYING
INTO
her own bathroom, Iris observed Evan feverishly
constructing his Faraday Cage. It essentially shielded its inhabitant from
static electric fields. Apparently, the geneticist had spent the better part of
the afternoon making her bathroom a lab. She wondered what else might be
converted in this experiment. Not only would DJ be making her own self
vulnerable to the entity once again, but Mitchell, a complete novice of
telepathy, would risk exposing his body, soul, and entire being to the presence
now making the Camden residence its ethereal home. Was this cage really going
to protect Mitch?

What if the
unthinkable happened? What if the presence perceived Mitchell to be its new
vehicle? Would Iris again reprimand herself for not trying harder to stop
Mitchell? And if she did, would she be playing it too safe to be any kind of
effective investigator? Iris only had to recall what happened to Ron, how the
ghost children affected his entire human makeup with a few glowing red spheres.
The spheres seemed to be orbs, possibly the kind of balls of light that had
supposedly created her firsthand experience with a time slip, not to mention an
insignia of a caduceus in a farmer’s cornfield. Whatever they were, they had
converted an excellent investigator, and possibly the love of her future life,
into a simpering, shadow of a human. Iris fretted, biting at her nails.
Something she hadn’t done since she had gotten used to her father abandoning
the family for long periods of time for “work.” Was she allowing Mitch to
become harmed by something he only hoped was alien? Was it merely a maleficent
spirit at work?

How could
one make sense of all this? Iris conceded theorizing and experimentation were
necessary. No one she knew on this planet had enough experience to draw
conclusions based on mere observation. Evan’s experiment might be one of many
risks the teams would have to take. To alleviate some stress, Iris decided the
best course of action would be to engage Evan in a civil, respectful
conversation. She recalled Mitchell’s rules of arguing. She might be only half
right, even though she was certain she was 100 percent right. She bit her lip,
rapped a light knock on the doorjamb, and attempted to control her breathing.

Evan wheeled
to answer, and Iris’s heart leapt. “Ooh, didn’t mean to startle. How’s it
going?” she asked. She could see by Evan’s nature he was a good man. She hated
sparring with him. She couldn’t help but feel his eagerness to believe in
aliens might get a lot of people hurt.

“I think
we’re on schedule for this evening’s communiqué. I want to thank-you again for
graciously making your bath available. How was your work?”

“Oh, the
same . . . coloring, perming, and cutting.”

“That’s
fantastic. Don’t downplay salon work. It lifts spirits, minds, and faces.”

Iris felt
disarmed. How could she conceive of attacking this man, more specifically his
ideas, when he was so damn considerate? She paused for a moment, folding her
arms across her chest.

Evan traded
glances with the cage surrounding the tub and Iris. “I understand your anxiety.
I think of Mitchell as a brother. I sometimes only feel half a scientist when
we’re apart. I have a feeling, if you’ll indulge me, that everything is going
to work out okay.”

Iris smiled,
but she felt awkward. “So what you’re saying is Mitchell and my sister are in
good hands?”

“They are
definitely in concerned hands.” He paused to check the cage’s alignment to the
tub. “I would be confused if I were you. It’s only natural.”

Iris’s brows
furrowed. “Please elaborate.” She suddenly wanted to throw Mitchell’s rules of
fair argument out the bathroom window.

“You view me
as a skeptic to your beliefs and a believer to what you approach with
skepticism. What’s worse you sense the same about Mitchell. Excuse my boldness,
but I am quite certain you and Mitchell have developed a bond since meeting.”

“And you
feel colleagues should never mix their personal lives with business—or at
least the type of business we conduct? I once felt that way. A part of me still
does.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“It’s
perfectly okay. I wasn’t trying to pry. In fact, Mitchell, serious
scientist/ufologist that he is, never told me he’s gone soft for you. He didn’t
have to. He’s been changed. Maybe a bit too bubbly for my taste, but I’ll
adjust. I know he’s glad to have met you. I am too. So, you see, things and
people are changing all the time. Risk and change don’t have to be about bad
consequences—if we put our minds to it.” Evan nodded and resumed his construction.

“I
appreciate that, Evan. I really do. Sorry I snapped. It seems to be what I do
these days.” Her right hand crawled spider like over the doorjamb. It somehow
gave her strength to continue sharing. “It’s hard being a lead investigator. I
don’t want to upset the team with my concerns; at the same time, I want to do
everything in my power to protect them. I just need to find the balance. I also
need to find out why a skeptic wants to believe.”

“As I’ve
said, I do believe communication with the dead is possible. There has to be
energy still out there. It doesn’t get destroyed with our physical passing. As
a scientist, I believe this is true. But it has always puzzled me why only some
claim to be mediums. I would think everyone could believe if it were proved
everyone was capable. Meaning: I believe in something called eternism. Are you
familiar with it?”

Iris shook
her head.

“Not
surprising, you are already telepathic, therefore there is no reason for you to
question the mechanics of what you can do. Eternism can be viewed as an
extension of ourselves, an invisible parameter where psi waves can be exchanged
not only between human and animal, but between species. And if what I posit is
true, we’re going to need eternism to communicate with our alien visitors.”

“So you have
an ulterior motive. You’ll believe in ghosts and telepathy if it aids your
quest to find and talk with aliens. If one of those pointy-eared beings were
here right now, I’d bet she would call you logical.”

Evan
laughed. “You mean Vulcans. Okay, I don’t necessarily believe Vulcans exist.
But even in a fictional context, they seem to be drawn from beings that are
capable of communicating telepathically. I like to think fiction is always
derived from a kernel of truth.”

“That sounds
odd coming from a scientist.”

“Yes, it
does. Old school scientists never like admitting their conclusions may have
been wrong. I may be odd because I’m not afraid to be wrong. That’s how we
learn.”

Iris
inquired more about eternism. Aware her inquiries only further publicized her
feelings toward Mitchell, she plunged ahead anyway. Evan explained eternons
give instant interconnection between discarnate beings. “Yet they must vibrate
in concert from built-up psychic energy to work. Background noise may inhibit
extrasensory perception. Therefore, the cage will work to limit that
distortion. It will also be necessary to bring Mitchell into a theta state. I
have some music prepared for that.”

“I hear
people talking about me. But I’ve got you guys beat. Soon I’ll be talking to dead
people.” Mitchell popped up behind Iris. She hadn’t noticed him, so enraptured
in her conversation with Evan.

Iris whirled
around and, despite a nagging voice in the back of her mind, threw her arms
around him in a spontaneous embrace.

“Nice to see
you too” Mitchell said to Iris. “Oops, don’t want to forget my science buddy.
Nice to see you as well, Evan.”

Evan waved a
dismissive hand. “No need for hugs, though.”

“I have been
doing some research.” Mitchell announced, ignoring Evan’s barb.

“I thought
you had a gig at the photography studio?” Iris inquired of Mitchell.

He smiled.
“I’ve been doing both. My boss gives breaks and lunch hours as mandated by law.
Anyway, I’ve been studying ley lines and geographical faults. Both may be
responsible for naturally occurring time disruptions. In effect, there seems to
be a fault line running as near to us as Estes Park. There is also supposed ley
line energy occurring along a series of ancient pueblo sites in southwestern
Colorado.”

Iris felt a
rush of blood coursing to her face. Estes Park was the site of the infamous
hotel she had investigated with Ron. Those thoughts led her to envision the
unexplained video footage in her mind. Big rooms . . . wide,
spacious hallways . . . gaudy paintings adorned the walls. She had
seen similar decor in and around the room she and Ron had investigated three
years prior. She had tried to put the hotel out of her mind like Ron had done.
But she wasn’t damaged like Ron. She still had her memory, and she concluded
the phantom video footage to be from the hotel. She promised herself she would
visit Ron, despite his altered condition. If these lines somehow explained
paranormal activity in a natural manner, there might be no further need to
indulge Mitchell’s and Evan’s quests to find aliens. The idea again cemented
the idea there may be a logical means to explain away everything—well,
with the exception of the dial—of alien involvements. If so, she could
declare the presence as a fraud, just a human pretending to be alien for
whatever reason. But she wouldn’t rock the boat now with Mitchell entering into
such a vulnerable state. She would just sit back and wait. Everything would
turn out fine. Evan promised as much. She would honor and trust the scientist.
Another idea came to mind. It was triggered by Evan’s idea of a telepathic
network. Maybe she could chance being a bit more proactive while still honoring
the scientists’ experiment. At least in theory . . .

“N
O,
GO AHEAD
without me.” Iris spent the last minutes fending off
Rachel and Kassidy, who had accepted an invitation from Gavin and Darian to
attend a seminar: “Are Our Skies Ours?” hosted by a local UFO group in
Brighton.

“Come on,”
Kassidy teased. “You can’t be that closed minded. Come with. Anyway, there’s
little we can do here.” Kassidy referred to Evan’s request to keep a quiet
house. “Mitchell must be given every opportunity to utilize his pineal gland in
peace.”

Rachel
retorted, “I think Kassidy just likes saying pineal. But seriously, we can
always shoot down their lame theories, which is always fun.”

“Not nearly
as fun as two-for-one shots at Billy’s Bar,” Kassidy corrected.

“No, you go
with the boys,” Iris said. “See how the other half lives.” She attempted a
laugh but it rang hollow.

“I know the
real reason.” Kassidy’s eyes went wide with anticipation. “Just tell us you’ve
got a thing for Mitchell and we’ll go. Right, Rach?”

Iris bowed
her head.

“Aha!”
Kassidy exclaimed. “Denial is confirmation.”

Iris folded
her arms across her chest. “Such subjectivity! Who taught you guys, anyway?”
She raised an eyebrow.

“You did.”
Rachel tugged Kassidy’s jacket sleeve. “Come on, the boys are waiting.”

Iris waved
as her team sauntered out the door. She was caught red handed. But not in the
way suspected. Of course, she stayed behind because of her feelings for
Mitchell. She was expected to keep a distance from the “experiment.” And she
would. It didn’t seem out of place to keep that safe distance within the
confines of her home because everyone knew she and Mitchell were an item.
Everyone would understand why she didn’t join the guys and gals at the UFO
seminar. First, she was too preoccupied with her new boyfriend. Second, she was
a skeptic. Iris crossed her fingers. Now if she could just surreptitiously
conduct some psychic surveillance without being caught, her plan would be
foolproof.

I
RIS
STARED
at
DJ
for a long moment.
No, she doesn’t suspect me. At least, she isn’t
acknowledging it
. She wished her sister safe channeling. Iris hoped DJ’s
triangular conference between her, the presence and Mitchell would keep her
distracted not to notice any intrusions. Anyway, once the connection was
established she doubted DJ would want to break it just because she had hacked
in.

The young
medium would be cordoned off from others in her bedroom. It was where she would
initiate contact with the presence and then channel the subsequent
communication into the adjacent bath, preferably into the tub of water Mitchell
would be submerged in.

Iris
announced she would retreat to her bedroom for the channeling. She thought Evan
must realize the bath served as the room between both sisters’ sleeping
quarters. It would put her in close psychic proximity to any activity. Yet Evan
did not question her. Not even when she procrastinated. She had been pacing up
and down the hallway in anticipation for Evan to give the green light. She
heard Mitchell joke to Evan that she reminded him of an expectant
mother—maybe someday. Finally, Evan made the announcement. Mitchell was
believed to have entered a theta state from listening to music incorporating
isochronic tones, which simulate the electromagnetic pulse of the Earth. Evan
lifted the headphones off a half-awake Mitchell and tapped him on the shoulder.
After Evan placed a snorkel in Mitchell’s mouth, the investigator slid underneath
the water’s surface. Iris slipped into her room and closed the door with a soft
thunk.