Jennifer Harlow - Mind Over Monsters

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Mind Over Monsters: A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation 2011 by Jennifer Harlow.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First e-book edition 2011

E-book ISBN: 9780738730523

Book format by Bob Gaul

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover illustration by Carlos Lara Lopez

Editing by Nicole Edman

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To Mom and Dad:
You told me I could do it, so I did.
Thanks.

With great power comes great responsibility.
Stan Lee

Oh, fu dgesicles!
Beatrice Alexander

Acknowledgments

First, thanks to my partner-in-crime Sandy Lu at the Lori Perkins Literary Agency who took a gamble on me in spite of my formally abysmal grammar skills. I hope I never let you down.

Thanks to Terri Bischoff, who also took a chance on a first-time author, and Nicole Edman, Steven Pomijie, and Courtney Colton at Midnight Ink, who helped bring my imaginary friends out to play with the world.

Thanks to my beta testers Susan Dowis, Jill Kardell, Ginny Dowis, and Theresa Friedrich for all their suggestions and hard work shaping the book. I promise to be less defensive and shouty from now on. (Yeah, right.)

Thanks to the fine people at Barnes & Noble in Charlottesville and Manassas, VA, Borders in Woodbridge, VA, and the Alberlmarle, Prince William, and Fairfax County Library systems for not kicking out the strange redhead who was there for hours scribbling away.

Thanks to Bill Fitz-Patrick for my author photos. At least I was prettier than Ronald Reagan, huh?

And last, but by no means least, to my family and friends, who never, not a single one of you, ever told me this wasnt possible. You all believed in me even when I didnt. You were right, I was wrong. There. I just made hell freeze over.

ONE

A conversation with
Dr. George Herbert Black, ph.d.

I was surprised to find that a man who wore a three-thousand-dollar suit was staying at the Comfort Inn. I thought for sure hed be at the Hilton, not the hotel known as the best place in town to have a quickie. His choice in lodging does not inspire confidence.

I walk down the hall as slowly as I can. Im good at delaying the inevitable. Im not sure if its the fact I have nothing in my stomach or the fact that Im scared out of my mind thats making my legs wobble like two blobs of Jell-O. As I reach room 403, I take a deep, cleansing breath like I was taught at my one yoga class. Do I really want to do this? What if hes some crackpot waiting for me to come in so he can attack me and chop me up with a chain saw? Dang it, I should have left a note.

Dear Nana, went to meet some strange guy who came to my hospital room today and started talking about ghosts, goblins, and ghoulies. If I dont come back by morning, Im probably floating in the Pacific being eaten by sharks. P.S. Sorry I almost killed Brian tonight.

Yeah, shed finally throw me in the loony bin for sure.

The door swings open without warning, nearly giving me a heart attack. A small gasp escapes my throat. Im not usually the jumpy type, but the last few days have really taken it out of me. Dr. Black, who towers a foot above my five foot four frame, is still wearing his perfectly pressed gray suit and gracious smile. That grin melts twenty years off his seventy-year-old face as his multitude of wrinkles smooth out. The shiny silver hair covering his head like a helmet accentuates his tan skin. Hes painfully thin. I probably outweigh him by forty pounds. Ichabod Crane in Armani. Im pretty sure I could take him without lifting a finger. Of course, thats exactly why Im here in the first place.

I was getting worried, he says.

Sorry, I had to change my shirt. Which is code for I turned the car around half a dozen times.

He steps to the side, gesturing me to come in. His suitcase rests on a blue and white floral bedspread underneath a picture of a garden. Two double beds, a cheap dresser, cream-colored lamp shades. Ive only been in hotels a handful of times and they always look the same.

Were you surprised to hear from me? I ask.

Not in the least. I could tell you were intrigued. I knew that curiosity would eventually get the better of you. Just not so soon. He walks over to his suitcase and pulls out a water bottle. Would you like something to drink? Im afraid all I have is water.

Im fine. I take a seat in the chair next to the window. The view is pretty unimpressive, just cars passing on the freeway.

He walks over to the edge of the bed closest to me and sits. It barely moves under his thin frame. So, care to tell me what happened tonight that prompted your call?

My back goes ramrod straight. Nothing, I say not too convincingly. I was just curious. Dont get to meet a parapsychologist every day.

Theres no need to lie to me, Beatrice, he says. There are no judgments here.

Nothing happened, I say again.

Beatrice, he chides, I dont have to be psychic to know something is upsetting you. In the hospital earlier today you were very adamant for me to leave and then five hours later you call. Now please, tell me what happened. I might be able to help.

II cant. I shake my head vigorously. This was a bad idea. Uh. Maybe I should just go.

Listen to me, Beatrice, he says in a sympathetic voice, whatever it is, I can assure you Ive heard much worse.

I doubt it, I say on a quick exhale.

Youd be surprised. Please. Nothing you say leaves this room. You came here for help. Let me help you.

I look into his cauliflower eyes. Sympathy. Huh. Havent seen that in a while. Lately its just been fear everywhere, and that gets old after a while. Even in the hospital, where bleeding drunks come in ranting and raving about aliens implanting devices into their heads, I was the freak. A few machines dance in the air, an orderly has to be sedated, and suddenly youre Freddy freakin Krueger.