Chapter 7

Harold stood by the window in Lucas Hart’s office, watching the young man sort through emails, which he’d learned were like electronic letters. Amazing that they could cross the world in just a few seconds.

“Demons ... a witch ... nah. Boring,” Lucas muttered. “A yeti?” Lucas laughed. “Pass on that, too.”

Looking out the window, Harold smiled as he gazed at the lowering sun in the LA sky. It was amusing hearing Lucas talk to himself, especially about what he called supernatural stuff.

“Dracula? Really? Someone’s having a Twilight fantasy.” Harold turned back to Lucas when the younger man let out a huge laugh. “Oh, God. Paul has to hear this.”

Harold shook his head in wonder, as Lucas quickly tapped on his cellphone with his thumb, and then laid it on his desk.

“Hey, pain in the ass, what do you want?” said the voice of the man Harold knew was Paul Hourton.

Lucas grinned. “I’m looking for prospective investigations, and you have to hear this.”

Harold liked the way the two men bantered.

“Something good?”

“Oh, it’s good all right. This lady in Connecticut says that she can read her dog’s mind and that good ole, Sparky, her cocker spaniel, saw an alien last week,” Lucas said, his voice thick with restrained laughter. “Not only that, but she said that the alien told Sparky that the beings from his planet really dig Elvis.”

Paul and Lucas laughed together and Harold smiled. He knew who Elvis was and thought that his music wasn’t half-bad.

“That’s one of the funniest ones I found today,” Lucas said, looking at his computer again.

Harold moved to stand behind Lucas, and read the lines of type on the computer screen until he found the one he wanted. Then he placed his hand on the monitor and concentrated a little.

“What the hell?”

“What’s the matter?” Paul asked.

“My stupid mouse won’t scroll. It’ll let me click, though.” Lucas opened an email and started scanning it. “Hey, this sort of sounds interesting.”

“What does?”

“I got an email from the mayor of a place called Gladstone, Colorado. He says that they have a benevolent spirit there. He calls it the Phantom Horse and Rider and says that it’s the ghost of the founder of the town, Harold Gladstone. Hal Gladstone is his name and he says that he’s a direct descendant of the original Harold Gladstone,” Lucas said.

“A benevolent spirit? We don’t get a lot of requests to investigate those. People mostly want us to come and get rid of evil spirits.”

Lucas nodded. “Yeah.”

Harold took his hand off the computer and said, “Son, ya want to go see this for yerself. Yer destiny is waiting for ya there, and she needs ya.”

Paul said, “I know that tone of voice. You want to go there, don’t you?”

Lucas tapped his mouse reflectively. “You know, I really do. I can’t say why, but something tells me that this is the real deal. Mr. Gladstone isn’t asking us to get rid of the spirit. He wants validation, and says that this Phantom has rescued a lot of people over the years.”

Paul said, “I’d be interested in checking that out, too.”

Harold smiled.

“I’ll call him and gather some more info from him. I’ll call you back later to let you know what he says,” Lucas said.

“Sounds good. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work here, something you wouldn’t know anything about.”

“Later, dude.”

“Now you sound like Austin.”

Lucas laughed as he hung up, and then picked up his cellphone. He tapped on it again and held it up to his ear. “Hello? Is this Mr. Gladstone? It is? Great. This is Lucas Hart, and I’m the producer of the show Paranormal Encounters. Your email caught my attention and I’d like to ask you some more questions...”

Harold didn’t need to hear anymore to know that the proper chain of events had been set in motion. He took his leave then, conjuring his bridge in his mind, returning to his beloved community of Gladstone, to help the next person who required his guidance and protection.