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“Nope, and today is the day I find that out.”

“Any other exciting plans?” Huck teased.

“Mmm, just work.” Grant stretched his arms and legs out, grunting. “I think we’re off review and back to investigating tonight. Or is that tomorrow? Shit. I’ll figure it out.” He flopped against the bed. “Think you could find Sip for me and let him know I wanna chat? I know not all spirits are always open to communicating.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. Sip loves to talk.”

“Yeah?”

“The trick is getting him to stop.”

Huck kissed Grant until the alarm on Grant’s phone went off and Grant had to get ready for the day. They agreed to meet up back in Grant’s room after lunch so they could have some privacy. Anywhere else in the hotel ran the risk of someone seeing Grant basically talking to himself since no one else would be able to hear or see Huck and Precipitation.

The kisses goodbye were long and sweet, and Huck was fairly certain that his feet weren’t touching the floor as he went off in search of Precipitation.

As usual, he wasn’t hard to find once Huck figured out where the television crew was.

They were all sitting together in the dining room, eating breakfast. Someone had brought an assortment of biscuits from a local fast-food restaurant, and everyone was talking excitedly in between bites. Precipitation was hovering between Finn and Cary, staring them down like he wished he could gobble them up like one of the biscuits.

“We have at least a dozen EVPs, chair movement right here in the dining room, and a door opening and shutting by the kitchen!” Bachata was saying. “And that’s just from one night of investigation!”

“The chairshifted,” Aurora clarified. “Very slightly. It didn’t move.”

“Last time I checked, shifting is movement.”

“We’re gonna go dark again tonight,” Finn said firmly. “The evidence we’ve gathered so far has already been reviewed, and I really want to focus on the morgue.”

“Don’t we still have two more DVRs to check?” Cary asked, trying to talk through a napkin since he still had a mouthful of food.

“No, batteries died,” Aurora replied. “Nothing was recorded. They’re toast.”

“Ah, shit.”

Grant had come in to join them, glancing casually at Huck and Precipitation. He smiled but said nothing, and he sat next to Aurora to help himself to two sausage biscuits. He couldn’t let the others know they had a ghostly audience after all.

“Hmmmm.” Precipitation let out a very smug and drawn out hum, eyeing Grant and then turning his attention over to Huck. “Now maybe it’s just me, but that looks like the face of a man who scrumped last night.”

“You know he can hear you,” Huck teased.

“I don’t care.” Precipitation waved at Grant with a sweet smile. “I want details. Gross, vivid, disgusting details. The color and taste of fluids would be a lovely place to start.”

Grant nearly choked on his biscuit, and he tried to find the top of the table interesting.

“Later.” Huck smirked. “We need to talk to you actually. Important creepy hotel things.”

“Boring.” Precipitation waved his hand and returned to staring at Cary licking some jelly from his top lip.

“No, hey. This is important.” Huck poked Precipitation’s shoulder. “Did you know there was a cult here?” He poked him again. “Order of the Rising Sun?”

“Mmm, when exactly was this?” Precipitation only seemed to be half-listening.

“In the seventies. They killed some people and oh yeah, by the way, the Thing in the stairs might be an ancient Aztec god?”

“What?” Precipitation scoffed.

“Seriously!” Huck kept poking him. “Grant showed me books and stuff with this crazy shit in there. Have you heard anything about it? Because I feel like the Thing being an evil god might be something we need to discuss.”

Precipitation appeared genuinely confused. “Does this have something to do with that bitchy woman being Myrna’s daughter?”

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