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“Here it is,” Davy said, pulling over on the posh, tree-lined avenue.
They got out of the car, gazed at the house.
“What a godawful eyesore,” Con commented.
“Must have cost a shit-ton of money,” Davy said. “Who would have thought that academia was so profitable?”
The uniformed Latina lady who answered the door gave them a suspicious frown. “Can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak to Professor Beck,” Sean said.
Her dark eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Davy opened his mouth to reply. Sean cut in, on impulse. “A ghost from his past,” he said. “Tell him that.”
The door slammed. Davy and Con and Miles stared at him, open-mouthed. “That’s no way to get in the door,” Davy pointed out.
Sean looked at the ornate, carved monstrosity of a door. “Oh, I’ll get in there,” he said softly. “If I have to shoot off the hinges.”
Con gave him a quelling look. “It’s early in the day for you to be having one of your meltdowns. Keep it together.”
The door opened just a crack, the security chain fastened across it, and the lady’s face peeked through. “I’m sorry, but the professor doesn’t have no interest in talking to ghosts. Have a good day.”
“Step back from the door, ma’am,” Sean said.
The whip crack in his voice sent her darting back. Sean spun around and flung up his leg in a vicious back kick that broke the chain and sent the door flying open to crash against the wall.
The lady shrieked and cowered against the opposite wall. Davy and Con gave each other despairing glances, and followed him on in.
“What is the meaning of this?” A portly, balding man appeared at the end of the foyer, his face red with fury.
Sean walked towards him, arms out as if he were going to give the man a bear hug. “Hey, Professor. Remember me?”
The man staggered back, put his hand to his throat. His face went an ashy gray. Sweat popped out on his brow. “How…who…”
“What?” Sean put on a mock wounded expression. “Don’t you like visits from the Great Beyond? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Beck made a choking sound. Put his hand to the wall for support.
“Shut up, Sean,” Davy muttered. “We won’t learn anything if the guy croaks from fright.”
Beck’s eyes darted back and forth between them. He sagged with relief. “Sean? Oh.”
“Yes,” Sean said. “Kev’s identical twin. Kev’s very pissed off, very fed-up identical twin. Good to meet you, Beck.”
“Professor, I call the police for you.” The Latina lady’s voice rang out. She clutched her cell phone in one hand, a fireplace poker in the other.
Wow. That was one tough lady. Beck didn’t deserve her.
He turned to Beck. “I suggest you stop her. Or I’ll be forced to tell them everything I know about the murder of Kevin McCloud, and the Midnight Project. And you will go down, Professor. In flames.”
It was a wild gamble, but Sidney Beck’s eyes darted around. He moistened his trembling lips with his tongue. “Ah, don’t make that call, Emiliana. These gentlemen and I just need to have a talk.”
She scowled, not buying it. “I call the police anyhow.”
“No! I don’t want to waste the police department’s valuable time, and really, it’s fine. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? At double time and a half wages. My apology for the unpleasantness.”
Emiliana muttered under her breath in Spanish, yanked open a wall closet, grabbed out a large patent leather purse and a sweater. She dropped her phone into it, and elbowed her way out between Miles and Con, not gently. Then she pulled the door shut behind her with a resounding slam.
