PREVIOUSLY:
The team arrived at the Bellingham Estate -- scene of a notorious double murder. They were led to believe the caretaker, Jenkins Porter, would be of assistance in their investigation. During their first interview with the man, he was extremely hostile and appeared to be under demonic influence. The team members believe that spirit to be Charles Bellingham. 

**********

Mike closed the fireplace doors after tamping down the logs. He avoided further eye contact with the portrait of the murderer, Charles Bellingham. Rounding the corner for a last look into the room where Jenkins Porter lay, he was struck by the man's ghastly appearance. His mouth hung open and his skin appeared to have melted into the crevices of his facial bones. He looks like a corpse.

A glance to where the wolfhound lay at the foot of the bed revealed the dog looked much the same as his master. Strange that he hasn't moved a muscle or made any sounds.

Startled by a tap on his shoulder, Mike whirled. He expected to see one of the other team members, but they were across the room from him. Shrugging it off as a case of nerves, he strode to where Luke jangled a set of keys he'd taken off the wall near the entrance. “Must be twenty keys on that chain. They're not by any chance labeled?"

“Seriously? Jenkins Porter's a poster child for paranoia. I doubt he'd leave a trail for someone else to follow.”

Holding his hand out, Mike gestured for Luke to toss him the keys. Choosing one, he held it up for the others to see. “This one appears old and well-used. Good place to start.”

"I can't wait to get out of here. This place has bad juju," Mike said as he cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Second that." Luke pulled on his wool cap and gloves and was out the door first, followed by Emma, but just as Mia stepped across the doorway's threshold, she grunted and doubled over, lost her footing and fell backwards.

**

Emma heard Mia's yelp and rushed to her side. Making eye contact with Luke, she said, “Get the first aid kit from the back of the van.”

Using care not to compromise Mia's spine, Emma lifted her head and cradled it in her hands. She laid her fingers over the right carotid artery and felt a rush of relief when she detected a steady pulse. At Luke's approach, she reached for the kit and gasped when she spotted a smear of red on the palm that seconds before had contact with Mia's skull. She dug into the pack and retrieved smelling salts and a gauze bandage for the laceration. At first, the salts didn't appear to make any difference, then Mia opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

“Stay still until we can determine how serious your injuries are, Mia. You've had a nasty fall.”

She turned her attention to Mike who was crouched on the other side of Mia. “You were right behind her. Did you see what happened?”

“I can answer that question myself.” Mia's voice was weak, but determined. “I felt a blow to my abdomen which knocked the wind out of me and, apparently, caused me to lose my balance.” She attempted to get to her feet, but Emma put out a hand to keep her from rising.

“Stop struggling, Mia. You may have a concussion.” Emma pointed through the open door of the cottage. “Let's get her back inside, Mike.”

He gathered Mia in his arms, but before he could step inside the cottage, she yelled, “No, I can't go back in there!"

“You need to be checked out, Mia. Our second option is to take you to the nearest hospital," he insisted. 

“That's not necessary, I tell you. I'm just feeling bruised and a bit fuzzy about what happened after I felt the punch.”

Emma's response was quick and firm. “Exactly. I repeat... you might have a concussion. We're not going anywhere near the manor until you're checked out by a professional.” She examined her friend's closed face and had the impression she'd shut a mental door against further psychic intrusion. I know that's how she copes. I'd probably do the same.

Mike walked to where the van was parked and waited for Luke to open the door. Emma, who was already inside, rummaged around for one of the blankets they always packed when traveling during the winter months. She located one and handed the edge of it across to Mike. “We need to keep her body warm against the possibility of shock.”

"Stop talking about me like I can't hear you," Mia said. "Lacerations of the scalp, no matter how shallow, always bleed a lot. The bandage you placed will take care of that. Furthermore, I am not in shock... just pissed as hell. I underestimated his power.”

Emma was confused. “Are you talking about Jenkins Porter?”

“No. I believe it was Charles Bellingham.” Mia raised a hand to her forehead. “I recall clearly a terrific pressure in my gut. It felt like a solid punch.”

Emma had a strong feeling of deja vu. Often, events taking place in real time seemed to her like she'd seen or done them before. But she had no time to dissect what it meant. A decision needed to be made, and Emma trusted Mike to make the right one.

**

"Everyone, please believe me when I tell you I feel...okay," Mia finished weakly. "If you insist that I get medical attention, we could just as easily go back to Bangor."

"We can't take the chance of transporting you such a distance." Mike's features were set with determination. "You need to be evaluated promptly in case there's a need for admission.”

“You know I don't have any insurance, Mike. They'll want to take x-rays and, on top of the Emergency Room charge... I just can't afford that kind of bill right now.”

Mike turned in his seat. “Don't worry about the bill. You know I can afford to help you out."

"That's not the point. It's embarrassing to be twenty-eight and not have a steady income.”

“Mia, we're family. It's not your fault people don't want to compensate you for your talents the way they should.” He held up his hand to ward off further argument. “We're going to the hospital and that's that.”

He faced to where Luke sat beside him and said, "Bring up the GPA coordinates for the nearest hospital.”

**

Once they were outside the perimeter of the estate and en route to Miles Memorial Hospital, Mike willed himself to breathe normally. In the rear view mirror, he could see Emma leaning across the seat to hold Mia's hand, which further calmed him. He pushed the speed limit enough to stay under the radar but still get them to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.

Emma accompanied Mia into the examination area while Mike took a seat and looked around for something to read. “I'm going to look for a vending machine,” Luke announced and took off down the hallway. When he returned, it was with two bottles of Coke and potato chips. Though Mike rarely indulged in junk food due to hyperglycemia, he felt the need for something in his stomach to stabilize his blood sugar. Between bites, the two discussed possible courses of action.

“We need to get into the mansion tonight,” Luke said. "It's obvious we've already stirred up at least one ghost—time to ramp up the pressure. This could be our best chance at making significant contact."

"I hope you're not suggesting that we use Mia as bait."

"Of course not. I'd never do that to her, but I have good reasons for my suggestion.” Leaning forward in his chair, he continued his argument. “You don't like to admit it, but I'm the only one that doesn't treat Mia like a china doll. She's stronger than all of us put together psychically, and she's not going to want to go back home without something concrete.  Especially after this morning's attack."

Mike's attention was drawn to where Emma entered pushing Mia's wheelchair.  She brought it to rest in front of him, set the brake and seated herself. Addressing him, she said, "The doctor confirmed there's no concussion, and he stitched up the six centimeter laceration. I'm trying to convince her it would be best to return to Bangor so she can rest."

Taking in Mia's pallid appearance and the way her eyes drooped with fatigue, Mike was inclined to agree. The patient, however, voiced her objection. “We need to get into the mansion as soon as possible. With the poltergeist activity that we've seen so far, not to mention the attack on me, we have a good chance of getting some solid evidence tonight. We can't let this opportunity pass us by." 

"That's my girl,” Luke said. "I told Mike you'd insist on continuing through with the investigation.”

**

In order to ward off what looked to be some major head-butting, Emma made an announcement. "I have a suggestion that I think is an acceptable compromise. As you know, I always check out the local accommodations before we set out on a case. I came across a really cool B&B nearby called The Tipsy Butler. While Mia was being examined, I called for information. There's been a last-minute cancellation, which leaves two rooms available for tonight. The Innkeeper, Bernadette, said we'd pretty much have the place to ourselves."

“I admit a nap sounds wonderful," Mia interjected. 

Emma reached for Mia's hand and squeezed. “I also took the liberty of calling the contractor in charge of the manor's renovations. His name is Jim Norris, and he's willing to do a walk-through later today in order to point out the hot spots. I made an on-the-spot decision to accept his offer.”

“Considering Jenkins Porter's compromised state and the sheer size of the house and grounds, I think you made the right call,” Mike said.

"I'm surprised by the man's willingness to meet with us," Luke added. "I remember reading his account of being alone on some scaffolding when he felt an invisible hand push him from behind, causing him to fall off. The fact that it was only seven feet off the ground at the time is the only reason he wasn't more seriously injured."

"I thought the odds were pretty low that he would be willing to help, too," Emma agreed. "Turns out, he's furious about the rumors circulating around Nobleboro that he and his crew are a bunch of overreacting sissies. He says he doesn't believe in ghosts but is open to whatever we find, providing it clears his reputation."

She faced Mia. “You have a say in this too. What do you want to do?"

"I won't be able to really rest until we get to the bottom of what's going on. I say we rent rooms for the night in order to allow for a proper investigation.”

Mike reached forward and tipped her chin up with his finger. “Plan on me sticking to you like a post-it note for the rest of this investigation. I don't care how powerful Charles Bellingham believes himself to be, I will kick his phantom ass if he attacks you again.”