Apart from the shadow, nothing else happened by the time we took a break. The cook had left several platters of sandwiches out. But while things hadn’t happened for us, they had for some of the others.
Trunk and Jack
“Are you enjoying your trip here?” I asked Jack.
“Yeah. My mum’s from here, and I was born here before moving back to the States when I was three months old,” Jack replied, and my eyebrows raised.
“So, you’re part English, but you’ve never visited?”
“No. Mum never came back. There was nothing left for her here. But I’ve been curious about England for a while.”
“And the Mermaid is steeped in history,” I pointed out.
Jack nodded. “Conducting investigations here has been a dream of mine. This is amazing.”
I heard a noise and cocked my head. Jack’s gaze flew to the chair by the window. I went to speak, but Jack raised a finger and shook his head. There it was again. A single drop of water hitting something. Quietly, I lifted the camera and began filming.
“I thought this had a lady in grey or white?” Jack murmured.
“This room is also where dry clothes become wet, remember?” I stated. As I stopped speaking, we detected another drip of water.
“Right, I’m going to start looking,” Jack said, getting up. I zoomed in on the chair and pointed.
“Start there; there’s a puddle,” I replied.
Jack frowned and crossed over to it. Sure enough, there was a tiny puddle. Jack looked confused as he searched all around the chair. Finally, he shook his head.
“There’s nothing, Truck.” But we both heard the third drop fall, and the puddle grew a little in front of the camera.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed. Jack took the camera and let me search, but like him, I turned up nothing.
“How is this happening?” I demanded, completely confused. I picked the radio up. “Is anyone free?”
“What’s up?” Haunt asked immediately.
“We’ve got water falling but can’t find where it’s coming from. Can someone else come and confirm?”
“On my way,” Reaver said.
“Cheers.”
“Keep me updated,” Haunt ordered.
How freaking confusing. What was happening here? Two minutes later, Reaver knocked on the door, carrying a camera.
“Just listen,” I said to my Veep.
We sat down in silence, and as Reaver was looking bored, there was a drip. Reaver jumped up and checked around the seat. He even got on the chair and checked the ceiling above us.
“There’s a loft hatch down in that direction. Could there be a burst pipe above us?” I asked.
“Stay here, and I’ll go check it out,” Reaver said.
“Braver man than me to go into a haunted attic,” Jack chuckled. Reaver paused at the door, and I laughed.
“I’ll come,” I said, and his shoulders relaxed. “Jack, stay here so we know when we’re above you.”
“Okay.”
