* * *

By the time they got back to the office, it was after midnight. They pulled the vehicles into the loading bay and Jack helped the others get the stuff into the office for storage and security. Spotting a notepad on Lynne’s desk, he dashed off a few words about the evening and to let her know to set up for evidence search in the morning and to mark the Trent stuff as ‘not for show’ just as he’d promised.

A twinge he’d never felt before shot through him. He threw the pencil down on the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. The footage from the night would have put them on the paranormal investigating map. The event had been out of control, over the top, better than the current paranormal movies out there. What they’d captured could have put paranormal phenomenon in the spotlight as legit scientific fact.

Jack sighed. Now he sounded like Luke, only caring about the dollars and cents. They had plenty to keep Ghost Releasers, Inc. in the black and the show on the air for seasons to come. He looked up as Donna and Rob said good night. Liam came over to the desk.

“Everything is locked up and marked present and accounted for,” the man said, his gaze skittering around the room.

“I guess we’re done here for the night,” Jack said. “Is everything okay?” The man had a drug problem a dozen years ago, but Jack was sure he’d been clean since his marriage of ten years. Liam didn’t seem high or drugged out, but he didn’t have a lot of experience in detecting either.

“I’m great. Just wondering why Lynne didn’t go with us.”

“Mrs. Trent seemed uneasy with the whole experience. I thought the fewer people in her house, the better. Lynne will be here in the morning to help you all with the evidence.”

“That will be good,” he stammered. “New eyes and ears and all.”

Jack quirked his eyebrow. What was up with that? Liam was acting like a teenage boy around a girl he liked. He prayed it wasn’t so. He knew Liam’s wife, Cathy, and he didn’t want Ghost Releasers in the middle of a love-triangle. Workplace romances didn’t work out well, and Lynne was a loose cannon at the best of times, let alone if Liam cut her off. That was excitement they didn’t need. If anyone seemed on the edge of going postal over a doomed love affair, it was Lynne Harley.

He heaved a silent sigh. Love affairs in the office were none of his business and he was going to keep it that way. He smiled and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for my bed and a good night’s sleep.”

He stared at the clock on the wall. “At least what’s left of it.”

Jack locked the door and nodded as Liam got in his car and took off, hopefully for home. He got into his Jeep and headed to his apartment downtown by the State Capital building.

Hours later and he was still tossing and turning. Images of a dark figure filled his brain every time he managed to fall asleep. Flashes of red and a cacophony of clashing drums jerked him awake time after time.

The sky outside turned from black to gray when he finally gave up and trudged to the kitchen and turned on the automatic coffee-maker. The scent of French Roast filled the room. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Too bad he couldn’t just intravenously inject the stuff into his brain and jump-start it. He poured the brew into his favorite Ghostbusters cup and breathed in the deep, rich aroma. He took a big gulp and tried to ignore the thought of reviewing hours of electronic evidence of the night before. He could push the evidence research another day. He left voice mails for the team and planned for a slower day at the office.

Closing his eyes, he could still see Megan in her bed. Stiff as a board with everyone watching and she’d still got his motor running. Even more than a whole pot of coffee. The woman deserved much better than what life had handed out to her. Money couldn’t buy you everything. A restful night’s sleep was worth more than gold and jewels and position in society.

Had Megan managed to sleep the rest of the night? His hand reached for the phone in his pocket and stopped short of using it. He’d told her a few days and he’d meant it. She’d call if anything happened.

He poured the leftover cold coffee into the sink and placed his cup there. Grabbing a travel mug, he got the rest of the coffee for the drive to the office and set out to work. He had hours of stuff to do and no time to waste on thinking about unreachable women with hair of spun-gold and eyes as blue as the ocean.