 CHAPTER 2 (section 1) copyright © 2001, S. Y. Affolee The house was a large squat toad at the end of the dead end road; brown with a protruding tower at the back that resembled a rocket launcher. The windows were dark closed eyes, darker than the gray that bathed the twilight sky, even with some of the windows slightly tinted with a faint interior light. Adrian stopped his truck at the end of the driveway about five till six, noticing that Simone’s small white compact car was already halfway up the driveway. He sat in the car for a moment, watching the door open and the other half of Dubois and Sung Investigations get out. A pair of slim legs in jeans followed by a lithe body clothed in a trim black sweater emerged. Her face was obscured by a curtain of straight black hair. Finally he got out of his own truck and walked over to the back to grab some equipment. “Want some help with that?” At the sound of her voice, he instinctively looked down. She barely came up to his shoulder, even if she had worn heels. “This?” he drawled indicating a heavy box he had easily tucked under his arm. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes faintly glimmering gold in the fading sunlight. “I was talking about the rest of the stuff you haven’t commandeered.” “Paltry trinkets,” he scoffed. She picked up a tripod and a black bag filled with camera equipment. “Really. When we get a photo of the prowler these won’t be so paltry.” “You don’t think there is a ghost.” “Of course not.” “But we’ve been to quite a few ghost hunting expeditions.” “Which all turned out to be fruitless,” she replied easily keeping up with him as they walked down the driveway. “The only evidence we ever gathered were to disprove the theory of ghosts and prove the theory that hoaxes were behind all of them.” “Pessimistic, aren’t we?” “Just realistic. Besides, our client doesn’t care what the thing is, just that we get rid of it.” When they reached the porch, the door opened revealing a tall slim man lining the frame. The interior glow gave him an odd greenish-yellow halo. His hair was short brown and graying and his eyebrows were thick and bushy giving him an ape-like appearance. He was wearing a pin-striped gray suit that attempted vainly to make him blend into the woodwork. A large hand was held out in greeting, but neither Simone nor Adrian had any free hands to perform the handshake. So a moment later, the hand was withdrawn and a strange smile appeared on the man’s full lips. “You must be from Dubois and Sung.” And you must be the butler, Dargood, thought Adrian. He frowned slightly when the butler’s gaze dropped to Simone and stayed. “We are Dubois and Sung,” Simone replied tersely. She brushed by the butler and entered the house. Adrian grinned. “I’m Adrian Dubois.” Dargood’s eyes snapped back to the visitor still standing at the doorstep. “I am Walter Dargood. You may just call me Dargood, Mr. Dubois. Mrs. Greenville’s personal retainer.” He nodded. “And my partner, Ms. Sung. I’m sure she’s impatient to set up the equipment.” “Yes I am,” a voice came from the interior. Adrian stepped inside and watched as Simone stuffed a small camera into the pot of a plant near the door. “Where’s the study?” |