“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Vic was so engrossed in what she was doing that she’d temporarily forgotten about her visitor. Glancing over in his direction, she noticed he had returned to the stool.

“No. Should I be?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Because I know you’re not real.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope. You’re a figment of my imagination.” She made a note on her paper list. “By the way, you’re also low on biohazard bags, and your permanent markers are dried up.”

“I had planned to reorder more bags when I got back.”

She heard his voice crack slightly but chose to shrug it off. Picking up the larger flashlight, she turned it on. The beam was weak. “Where do you keep your fresh batteries?”

He pointed to the nearby cabinet. “Third drawer down. I’m pretty sure there’s some Ds in there.”

Vic went over to check, and for the first time noticed the labels on the drawer face. In fact, all of the drawers were labeled. So were the cabinets, as she discovered.

“Did you put those labels on yourself?”

“Yes.”

Vic threw a smile back at him. “Smart idea. I wished they did that back in Sawyer City.”

“Sometimes when I’m deep in thought, I forget where I stored what. I got tired of having to hunt for things.”

There it was again. That slight hitch in his voice.

“You’ll need six batteries for that light,” he added.

Grabbing two Ds, she placed them in her weaker hand and held them against her belly as she snatched up four more. Closing the drawer with her hip, she returned to the table. Once she’d replaced the batteries, she paused again to stretch the kinks out of her lower back and ventured to ask something she’d been thinking about asking him.

“If someone comes in here, will they see you, too?”

“Not unless I want them to.”

“How about hearing you when you speak?”

“Same.”

“And you came here all because I put a quarter on your headstone?”

He shifted his position, placing both feet on the floor and bending over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Victoria… May I call you Victoria instead of Vic?”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“There are a whole lot of us out there that living beings have no idea exist.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Are you saying we’re surrounded by ghosts?”

He made a gesture with his hands. “Succinct and correct.”

Vic quickly scanned the lab. “Where are they?”

Jack snorted softly. “We’re not all gathered here, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Then I repeat. Where are they?”

“In various locations. In places that have the greatest hold on them.”

“Such as…”

“Some are where they died. Some where they lived. It varies from specter to specter.”

“Is that what you refer to yourselves as? Specters?”

“Ghost. Spook. One word is as good as another. I prefer specter the same way you prefer Vic.”

She pointed to the door. “If I walk out of here, will you be able to follow me?”

“Not exactly. You’d have to take something of mine, something I’m linked to, in order for me to be able to tag along.”

Looking down at the crime scene kit in front of her, she gave it a pat. “Like this?”

Jack nodded in answer.

“What if I leave without it?”

He shook his head.

That made her wonder. “If I’d never left that quarter at your grave, would you have shown up here?”

This time she got a smile from him.

“I’ve always been here. On and off.”

That admission surprised her. “You have?”

“This place, this lab has always been a special place for me. I’ve watched people come and go from here ever since I regained sensibility after my death.”

“Have you spoken to them, too?”

Jack’s expression hardened. “No. And I have no intention of doing so.”

“Why not? Do you dislike them?”

“I got along well with them, but I never… Let’s just say I never felt comfortable around them. We had nothing in common, even though I worked with them for years.”

“So how did I get so lucky?” She meant it as a joke. Sort of.