Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) Read online

  “Do you know what you’re inviting?” Iris asked.

  “I’m inviting proof of the existence of spirits.”

  “You could be inviting a demonic possession. We still don’t know if the entity is really an alien. DJ is strong enough psychically to resist, but you’re not.”

  “But DJ will be redirecting the spirit’s consciousness through the water into my subconscious. I would think DJ could break the connection if trouble arises.”

  “You may right. But . . . you may be wrong. We don’t know. This is just an experiment.”

  “That is what scientists do.”

  “Why do you need to do this? You don’t believe my sister?”

  “I do. I sense you don’t believe your sister can believe in aliens.”

  “You are so single-minded. Damn it! This is not just about proving alien or spiritual existence. How do I get through to you that this might not such a good idea?”

  “It is a good idea. Evan is a good scientist. He wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. Besides, if I am communicating with the spirit via my subconscious, I posit it would make it difficult for your new houseguest to deceive me. From what Evan proposes, we will be communicating via imagery. I should be able to see what the spirit sees.”

  Iris shook her head. “That’s even if this works. I don’t know about brainwaves. But I think it’s going to be really difficult for you to home in on one specific wave.”

  “I know. But I have every belief in your sister’s ability to make that happen. She is the medium between the spirit world and our world. The water will be a medium in which she can connect me to the other world. If successful, it might give everyone a chance to communicate with their loved ones. Who knows? We may even find Harry Houdini. I’ll bet he would be happy to know your sister is not a fraud or a charlatan. That she’s the real thing.”

  “So, you have every belief in my sister, do you, but what about me?” She put her right hand on her hip to convey her anger. Iris was beginning to get miffed at losing the reigns to this investigation. She wanted DJ back but not to become the group’s leader. She was also beginning to become a little jealous she wasn’t at the center of Mitch’s attention. And she wondered if Mitch even entertained any kind of relationship with her. After all, she was a skeptic.

  Mitchell took the hand that was on her hip without a fight. “I thought you would never ask. But I am willing to show you how much I believe in you.” Mitchell cupped Iris’s left hand into his right palm. He gazed into her eyes until she smiled. Iris didn’t break the gaze. “I really believe you are a good person at heart,” he said.

  “I believe you are too. I just hope that will be enough,” she whispered. He placed his left hand on her cheek and engaged her in a tender kiss. “Good. I’m glad we got this out of the way. We both like each other.” She smiled. “But we both have a lot of work to do on this investigation. I promise you, I won’t let feelings get in the way.”

  “I’ll be damned if I let them get in the way either,” Mitch said, moving in for another kiss.

  Iris allowed herself a few moments of passion with Mitch before she whisked her phone from its place on the kitchen table. She requested Mitchell pose for a picture. “There, I got it,” she said. “Now you may go. Get some rest and drink that green tea Evan got you. Remember, in his words, you should purify before the communion.”

  “I will, I will. See you tomorrow night. It seems our investigation is really heating up.” He smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  After Mitchell left, Iris spent a long moment smiling at his picture. She set the phone back down the table and scurried upstairs, a mix of emotions competing for her attention.

  IN HIS BEDROOM, Dan Camden cupped his hands around his face. Via a computer interfacing with his daughter’s new iPhone, Dan had been privy to quite a bit of information tonight. He too, was filled with competing emotions. What was this dial object? What had his daughters gotten into? But even without access to his psychic abilities, he knew the answer: trouble.

  Chapter Nine

  SPYING INTO her own bathroom, Iris observed Evan feverishly constructing his Faraday Cage. It essentially shielded its inhabitant from static electric fields. Apparently, the geneticist had spent the better part of the afternoon making her bathroom a lab. She wondered what else might be converted in this experiment. Not only would DJ be making her own self vulnerable to the entity once again, but Mitchell, a complete novice of telepathy, would risk exposing his body, soul, and entire being to the presence now making the Camden residence its ethereal home. Was this cage really going to protect Mitch?

  What if the unthinkable happened? What if the presence perceived Mitchell to be its new vehicle? Would Iris again reprimand herself for not trying harder to stop Mitchell? And if she did, would she be playing it too safe to be any kind of effective investigator? Iris only had to recall what happened to Ron, how the ghost children affected his entire human makeup with a few glowing red spheres. The spheres seemed to be orbs, possibly the kind of balls of light that had supposedly created her firsthand experience with a time slip, not to mention an insignia of a caduceus in a farmer’s cornfield. Whatever they were, they had converted an excellent investigator, and possibly the love of her future life, into a simpering, shadow of a human. Iris fretted, biting at her nails. Something she hadn’t done since she had gotten used to her father abandoning the family for long periods of time for “work.” Was she allowing Mitch to become harmed by something he only hoped was alien? Was it merely a maleficent spirit at work?

  How could one make sense of all this? Iris conceded theorizing and experimentation were necessary. No one she knew on this planet had enough experience to draw conclusions based on mere observation. Evan’s experiment might be one of many risks the teams would have to take. To alleviate some stress, Iris decided the best course of action would be to engage Evan in a civil, respectful conversation. She recalled Mitchell’s rules of arguing. She might be only half right, even though she was certain she was 100 percent right. She bit her lip, rapped a light knock on the doorjamb, and attempted to control her breathing.

  Evan wheeled to answer, and Iris’s heart leapt. “Ooh, didn’t mean to startle. How’s it going?” she asked. She could see by Evan’s nature he was a good man. She hated sparring with him. She couldn’t help but feel his eagerness to believe in aliens might get a lot of people hurt.

  “I think we’re on schedule for this evening’s communiqué. I want to thank-you again for graciously making your bath available. How was your work?”

  “Oh, the same . . . coloring, perming, and cutting.”

  “That’s fantastic. Don’t downplay salon work. It lifts spirits, minds, and faces.”

  Iris felt disarmed. How could she conceive of attacking this man, more specifically his ideas, when he was so damn considerate? She paused for a moment, folding her arms across her chest.

  Evan traded glances with the cage surrounding the tub and Iris. “I understand your anxiety. I think of Mitchell as a brother. I sometimes only feel half a scientist when we’re apart. I have a feeling, if you’ll indulge me, that everything is going to work out okay.”

  Iris smiled, but she felt awkward. “So what you’re saying is Mitchell and my sister are in good hands?”

  “They are definitely in concerned hands.” He paused to check the cage’s alignment to the tub. “I would be confused if I were you. It’s only natural.”

  Iris’s brows furrowed. “Please elaborate.” She suddenly wanted to throw Mitchell’s rules of fair argument out the bathroom window.

  “You view me as a skeptic to your beliefs and a believer to what you approach with skepticism. What’s worse you sense the same about Mitchell. Excuse my boldness, but I am quite certain you and Mitchell have developed a bond since meeting.”

  “And you feel colleagues should never mix their personal lives with business—or at least the type of business we conduct? I once felt that way. A part of me still does.” She shoo
k her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  “It’s perfectly okay. I wasn’t trying to pry. In fact, Mitchell, serious scientist/ufologist that he is, never told me he’s gone soft for you. He didn’t have to. He’s been changed. Maybe a bit too bubbly for my taste, but I’ll adjust. I know he’s glad to have met you. I am too. So, you see, things and people are changing all the time. Risk and change don’t have to be about bad consequences—if we put our minds to it.” Evan nodded and resumed his construction.

  “I appreciate that, Evan. I really do. Sorry I snapped. It seems to be what I do these days.” Her right hand crawled spider like over the doorjamb. It somehow gave her strength to continue sharing. “It’s hard being a lead investigator. I don’t want to upset the team with my concerns; at the same time, I want to do everything in my power to protect them. I just need to find the balance. I also need to find out why a skeptic wants to believe.”

  “As I’ve said, I do believe communication with the dead is possible. There has to be energy still out there. It doesn’t get destroyed with our physical passing. As a scientist, I believe this is true. But it has always puzzled me why only some claim to be mediums. I would think everyone could believe if it were proved everyone was capable. Meaning: I believe in something called eternism. Are you familiar with it?”

  Iris shook her head.

  “Not surprising, you are already telepathic, therefore there is no reason for you to question the mechanics of what you can do. Eternism can be viewed as an extension of ourselves, an invisible parameter where psi waves can be exchanged not only between human and animal, but between species. And if what I posit is true, we’re going to need eternism to communicate with our alien visitors.”

  “So you have an ulterior motive. You’ll believe in ghosts and telepathy if it aids your quest to find and talk with aliens. If one of those pointy-eared beings were here right now, I’d bet she would call you logical.”

  Evan laughed. “You mean Vulcans. Okay, I don’t necessarily believe Vulcans exist. But even in a fictional context, they seem to be drawn from beings that are capable of communicating telepathically. I like to think fiction is always derived from a kernel of truth.”

  “That sounds odd coming from a scientist.”

  “Yes, it does. Old school scientists never like admitting their conclusions may have been wrong. I may be odd because I’m not afraid to be wrong. That’s how we learn.”

  Iris inquired more about eternism. Aware her inquiries only further publicized her feelings toward Mitchell, she plunged ahead anyway. Evan explained eternons give instant interconnection between discarnate beings. “Yet they must vibrate in concert from built-up psychic energy to work. Background noise may inhibit extrasensory perception. Therefore, the cage will work to limit that distortion. It will also be necessary to bring Mitchell into a theta state. I have some music prepared for that.”

  “I hear people talking about me. But I’ve got you guys beat. Soon I’ll be talking to dead people.” Mitchell popped up behind Iris. She hadn’t noticed him, so enraptured in her conversation with Evan.

  Iris whirled around and, despite a nagging voice in the back of her mind, threw her arms around him in a spontaneous embrace.

  “Nice to see you too” Mitchell said to Iris. “Oops, don’t want to forget my science buddy. Nice to see you as well, Evan.”

  Evan waved a dismissive hand. “No need for hugs, though.”

  “I have been doing some research.” Mitchell announced, ignoring Evan’s barb.

  “I thought you had a gig at the photography studio?” Iris inquired of Mitchell.

  He smiled. “I’ve been doing both. My boss gives breaks and lunch hours as mandated by law. Anyway, I’ve been studying ley lines and geographical faults. Both may be responsible for naturally occurring time disruptions. In effect, there seems to be a fault line running as near to us as Estes Park. There is also supposed ley line energy occurring along a series of ancient pueblo sites in southwestern Colorado.”

  Iris felt a rush of blood coursing to her face. Estes Park was the site of the infamous hotel she had investigated with Ron. Those thoughts led her to envision the unexplained video footage in her mind. Big rooms . . . wide, spacious hallways . . . gaudy paintings adorned the walls. She had seen similar decor in and around the room she and Ron had investigated three years prior. She had tried to put the hotel out of her mind like Ron had done. But she wasn’t damaged like Ron. She still had her memory, and she concluded the phantom video footage to be from the hotel. She promised herself she would visit Ron, despite his altered condition. If these lines somehow explained paranormal activity in a natural manner, there might be no further need to indulge Mitchell’s and Evan’s quests to find aliens. The idea again cemented the idea there may be a logical means to explain away everything—well, with the exception of the dial—of alien involvements. If so, she could declare the presence as a fraud, just a human pretending to be alien for whatever reason. But she wouldn’t rock the boat now with Mitchell entering into such a vulnerable state. She would just sit back and wait. Everything would turn out fine. Evan promised as much. She would honor and trust the scientist. Another idea came to mind. It was triggered by Evan’s idea of a telepathic network. Maybe she could chance being a bit more proactive while still honoring the scientists’ experiment. At least in theory . . .

  “NO, GO AHEAD without me.” Iris spent the last minutes fending off Rachel and Kassidy, who had accepted an invitation from Gavin and Darian to attend a seminar: “Are Our Skies Ours?” hosted by a local UFO group in Brighton.

  “Come on,” Kassidy teased. “You can’t be that closed minded. Come with. Anyway, there’s little we can do here.” Kassidy referred to Evan’s request to keep a quiet house. “Mitchell must be given every opportunity to utilize his pineal gland in peace.”

  Rachel retorted, “I think Kassidy just likes saying pineal. But seriously, we can always shoot down their lame theories, which is always fun.”

  “Not nearly as fun as two-for-one shots at Billy’s Bar,” Kassidy corrected.

  “No, you go with the boys,” Iris said. “See how the other half lives.” She attempted a laugh but it rang hollow.

  “I know the real reason.” Kassidy’s eyes went wide with anticipation. “Just tell us you’ve got a thing for Mitchell and we’ll go. Right, Rach?”

  Iris bowed her head.

  “Aha!” Kassidy exclaimed. “Denial is confirmation.”

  Iris folded her arms across her chest. “Such subjectivity! Who taught you guys, anyway?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “You did.” Rachel tugged Kassidy’s jacket sleeve. “Come on, the boys are waiting.”

  Iris waved as her team sauntered out the door. She was caught red handed. But not in the way suspected. Of course, she stayed behind because of her feelings for Mitchell. She was expected to keep a distance from the “experiment.” And she would. It didn’t seem out of place to keep that safe distance within the confines of her home because everyone knew she and Mitchell were an item. Everyone would understand why she didn’t join the guys and gals at the UFO seminar. First, she was too preoccupied with her new boyfriend. Second, she was a skeptic. Iris crossed her fingers. Now if she could just surreptitiously conduct some psychic surveillance without being caught, her plan would be foolproof.

  IRIS STARED at DJ for a long moment. No, she doesn’t suspect me. At least, she isn’t acknowledging it. She wished her sister safe channeling. Iris hoped DJ’s triangular conference between her, the presence and Mitchell would keep her distracted not to notice any intrusions. Anyway, once the connection was established she doubted DJ would want to break it just because she had hacked in.

  The young medium would be cordoned off from others in her bedroom. It was where she would initiate contact with the presence and then channel the subsequent communication into the adjacent bath, preferably into the tub of water Mitchell would be submerged in.

  Iris announced she w
ould retreat to her bedroom for the channeling. She thought Evan must realize the bath served as the room between both sisters’ sleeping quarters. It would put her in close psychic proximity to any activity. Yet Evan did not question her. Not even when she procrastinated. She had been pacing up and down the hallway in anticipation for Evan to give the green light. She heard Mitchell joke to Evan that she reminded him of an expectant mother—maybe someday. Finally, Evan made the announcement. Mitchell was believed to have entered a theta state from listening to music incorporating isochronic tones, which simulate the electromagnetic pulse of the Earth. Evan lifted the headphones off a half-awake Mitchell and tapped him on the shoulder. After Evan placed a snorkel in Mitchell’s mouth, the investigator slid underneath the water’s surface. Iris slipped into her room and closed the door with a soft thunk.

  After just a few minutes of meditation, Iris had left her room.

  SHE WAS walking down a street, unpaved. It was comprised of ruddy clay-like soil colored in a reddish-brown hue. People populated the street, shuffling in zombie-like stride, faces devoid of emotion. Where was she? It was as if it were a different time. Agricultural and devoid of vehicles, Iris surmised it was Earth’s past. Yet the sky wasn’t appropriate for any time. It was almost colorless, or the light gray tone you see in a black and white movie.

  After absorbing the details of the surrounding environs, she glanced to her right. There, walking side by side with her was Mitchell. So much for a covert operation . . .

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asked her, not attempting to mute his surprise or annoyance. “Couldn’t you trust me?”

  “Maybe it was more like I couldn’t trust myself? Uh, sorry. Bad joke. Bad explanation.”

  “No, you meant what you said. Explain it to me, Iris.”

  It felt so weird to commune in her head with someone other than DJ. It was like she had entered the fictional realm of a show like Star Trek; now she felt like the Vulcan trying to explain her actions to the confused and inferior human. So filled with emotion they couldn’t possibly understand the logical answer if she gave it to them.