Paul walked into the office. He could hear Alva and Evelyn doing something in the inner office area. Pausing for a momen,t Paul let himself take in his surroundings. He’d been the office a number of times in the past few weeks and, despite the fact that he was technically an employee now, he’d never really taken the time to just look around.

Old, half decayed books and papers littered every available horizontal surface. Artifacts, gadgets and small buckets to catch rain water from the ever present leaks in the ceiling balanced precariously on the pages upon pages of carefully gathered information. Spying several supermarket tabloids neatly piled under a nearly overflowing coffee cup/rain collector, Paul began to almost question the “carefully gathered information” idea.

He sniffed back a chuckle. And what would someone else think of his own research, his own “carefully gathered information” no doubt locked away in some under-lit, musty room not so unlike this one. Except this wasn’t a small file room despite its cramped nature. No, this was a place where things were actually addressed rather than swept under the carpet (not that this place COULD have carpet - it was just too damp). This wasn’t just a storage area despite the massive numbers of seemingly disorganized files and papers.

Even if Paul hadn’t already assisted on several cases with the other members of SQ he’d know that these files, this information, was actually used and referenced as evidenced by the constantly shifted and reorganized papers, files and books. Nothing stayed in place for very long here and every time he came in Paul couldn’t help but notice that although SQ headquarters had the look of a dusty untouched mess of stuff it was ever changing, moving as though the piles of papers and books had a mind of their own. Despite what he’d investigated in the past, papers and books didn’t move themselves (well not often at any rate). He knew that movement and change was focused around Alva and Evelyn. Somehow the ever changing piles and books and artifacts gave him a great sense of hope that this would be a chance to do something other than make files and notes to be locked away somewhere, to do something other than dash people’s hopes and faith. SQ was different and it wasn’t just the more musty than dusty smell that told him that.

Paul, having finished his observation of the main room, headed over to the inner office. He took off his long coat, draping in neatly over one of the less soggy piles of papers and set down his coffee on a small nearly bare spot on the table. He was considering how different it would be to have a chance to sit down and plan out and discuss things with others rather than just get his assignment thrown at him and be sent on his merry way. This would finally be an opportunity to research and pool resources and share ideas before proceeding with an investigation. Yes, this was going to be a whole new way of doing things…

Before Paul could make it to the doorway hurricane Alva emerged, nearly knocking him over in his haste.

“Oh, Paul glad you’re here. We have to get going if we’re to make it in time. I told the Hendersons we’d arrive before noon and if we leave now we can arrive in Pennsylvania before then,” Alva said, while grabbing his coat and bag and heading for the door outside.

“Pennsylvania? What’s in Pennsylvania?” Paul asked, feeling like he’d already missed something and it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet.

“A case of possible canine possession by a deceased human,” Alva said hurriedly before ducking out the door.

“A lady from Slate Run called this morning saying she believes her dog is possessed by her recently deceased grandfather,” Evie filled in. She handed Paul a file folder and made a small shooing gesture at him after giving him a quick but sincere smile.

Before Paul could get a word out Alva was already calling him from the open doorway.

“Have fun,” Evie said, leaning against a slightly rusted filing cabinet. “Bring me back a tree. I’m not too sure what else they have in Pennsylvania.”

Not knowing Evie well enough to call her bluff, Paul grinned at her and nodded. He very much doubted she didn’t know all about Pennsylvania and probably every other state. He’d already learned that the woman was a fountain of knowledge and what she didn’t know she could research with amazing speed.

“Paul! Let’s go!” Alva called, poking his head back into the building long enough to address his slower moving colleague.

“Better go,” Paul said, grabbing his coat and tucking the file folder under his arm. “So much for the quite morning meeting,” he said softly to himself as he closed the door and headed out into the rain to Alva’s waiting car.

After several detours and many hours, Alva and Paul arrived at the Henderson residence. They were much later in arriving than Alva had hoped for. They’d called enroute and Mrs. Henderson had been very understanding when warned they were going to be late.

Now in the late afternoon Alva and Paul got out of the car stiffly. After spending the whole day unsuccessfully navigating both highways and terribly confusing back roads, both men were eager to get away from each other and have something else to concentrate on.

They made their way up the gravel driveway to the house. It was a comfortable looking ranch style home with a little amateur landscaping work around the front, nothing really remarkable but pleasant looking.

Before they had even made it the porch the door opened and a woman emerged looking relieved to see them. She looked in her late 40s, a little thin and dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Welcome! You boys must be exhausted from driving all that way. Come on inside before you catch cold,” said Mrs. Henderson kindly, holding the door open for them.

When Paul and Alva were inside they made their introductions as she took their coats. Mrs. Henderson had the “mother” like air about her and despite her being only a few years older, she continued to refer to Paul and Alva as boys, though it was obvious she didn’t mean it in a condescending way.

She showed them into the sitting room then went to hang up their coats.

Quietly Paul said, “She seems nice, normal.”

“Does that reassure you that things are normal here? That her dog isn’t possessed?” Alva asked.

“Not in the least,” Paul admitted.

Alva flashed him a quick conspiratorial grin before Mrs. Henderson returned.

“So, Mrs. Henderson, can you tell me what you’ve been experiencing lately?”

“It’s our dog Duke. Like I told you on the phone, he’s possessed. It’s my father, he’s back and he’s possessing our dog,” she said, sounding a bit uncomfortable but not unconfident.

“And why do you think your father is possessing your dog?” Paul asked.

“Well…” Mrs. Henderson began. She stopped to think about how to explain it for a moment. A kettle began to whistle from the kitchen. “Oh, you boys will have to excuse me for a moment,” she said before heading into the kitchen.

Paul turned to Alva only to find himself on the receiving end of a rather cold look. Before he could ask what the problem was Alva got up.

“I’m going to go examine the dog,” he held up a hand to stop Paul before he interrupted, “while you finish talking with Mrs. Henderson. I think she might respond better if there was only one person questioning her.”

“Alright,” Paul said, sitting back down. He wasn’t used to interviewing people with another interviewer present. For a moment he was sure Alva was angry with him for asking a question when he’d already started. But he was right, it made more sense to split up and cover twice as much then fill each other in later. That had never been an option for Paul when he worked alone. Of course he’d probably never have looked into a case of possessed dog before. Something like that would have been politely “filtered out” before ever reaching him in his previous job.

Watching Alva grab his coat and head into the kitchen, Paul couldn’t help but wonder if maybe half the reason he’d decided to go check out the dog was because he couldn’t sit still any longer. Paul squirmed briefly on what would have otherwise been a comfortable sofa, thinking of all the hours they’d been stuck in Alva’s less than cushy, prehistoric, so-called SUV.

In the kitchen Alva asked Mrs. Henderson if he could examine her dog. She looked nervous at the idea and suggested he go into the garage and get her husband, that he would show Alva the dog. Thanking her Alva headed outside.

He found Mr. Henderson working in the detached garage. Walking into the darker area Alva called out, “Hello, Mr. Henderson? Your wife sent me back here.”

Suddenly a car door slammed starling Alva a bit and a man came around the car.

“Sorry, bout that, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sounding sincere. Alva though it took a hell of a lot more than that to scare him though the unexpected noise had made him jump a bit. “Gus,” said Mr. Henderson, wiping his hand on a rag to remove the oil before offering it to Alva.

“That’s quite alright, I just couldn’t see you in the dark is all,” Alva explained motioning around the garage as his eye adjusted. He shook Gus’s hand and continued, “Alva Keel. Your wife contacted us early this morning about your dog.”

“Oh, yeah,” Gus said unenthusiastically. Now that Alva’s eyes had adjusted he could see that Gus was a pretty average looking guy, a little taller than himself and appeared to be a few years older than his wife. “I got your number from this … odd fellow in town. He’s sort of the local UFO expert if you know what I mean.”

Alva gave a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement and nodded for Gus to continue.

“He said he knew of you and that I should call your group and gave me the number. Frank Hotto. You know him?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ve conferred with him on occasion,” Alva admitted. While Alva would have called Frank more than just “an odd fellow,” he couldn’t fault the man for sending the case his way.

“Well I told my wife I’d ask him what he thought about what’s happened with Duke and he gave me your number. Listen, I want to get one thing straight right now…” he said before pausing.

‘Here it comes,’ thought Alva. ‘Nothing good ever follows THAT line.’

“I don’t believe Duke is possessed by my wife’s dead father.”

“I believe Duke is possessed by my father’s ghost, Mr. Callan,” Mrs. Henderson said.

“Paul,” he corrected her, trying to avoid as much formality as possible. “Can you tell me why you think that?”

“Sorry, Paul. And it’s Helen buy the way. Paul, my father died a week ago tomorrow.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Paul said sympathetically.

“Thank you. It’s just since then Duke has been acting strangely.”

“What do you mean the Duke’s been acting differently?” Alva asked Gus as they made their way across the yard.

It was now nearing dusk and the sunset was mostly obscured by the thick forest of trees that bordered the Henderson’s property. It was beautiful the way the trees were silhouetted against the ever changing pastel colours of the late afternoon sky but Alva would really have preferred a few more hours of daylight. He was still ticked off they had been so late in arriving.

“Mr. Keel, we got Duke from a friend of ours, actually the sheriff . He rescued the dog from a really nasty bastard who used to beat Duke trying to make him fierce. Anyway, when they arrested the guy they found poor ol’ Duke chained up in the basement. My wife’s got a soft spot for animals so when he told us about the dog we said we’d take ‘im. Now he’s a real nice dog but he’s not really trusting of people just yet,” Gus explained.

“So we had a run put in,” Helen said. “That way he could get exercise and get used to us. He has a dog house in the back and the rest is chain link fence. When we used to go out there he’d bark like mad until you went over to the door. When you opened it he’d run to the back and hide in his house while you put in his food. But if you went near the door with the food in there he’d growl something awful. We’d finally got him used to us enough that he’d come out and eat of you stood back a ways.”

“Sounds like things were getting better,” Paul said, encouraging her to continue.

“Oh yes, they were … until last Monday.”

Coming up to the fenced in run Alva stood back. Gus went up to the side and called, “Duke.”

Out trotted the biggest German Shepherd dog Alva had ever seen. It had a mammoth head, almost twice the size of a human and was not only long legged, it was powerfully built as well. It was an intimidating looking animal. Or it was until it playfully bounced over to Gus and licked his hand through the fencing. It stopped and looked at Alva, the picture of doggie obedience and innocence, mouth open in what could be called a smile.

“So you see Paul, over night Gus turned into the most clam and friendly dog you could ever want,” Helen explained.

“Forgive me Mrs. Henderson-“

“Helen,”

“Right, Helen. But I don’t see what this has to do with your father.”

“I went to feed Duke just after the funeral. I put his dish in and, well, normally I talk to him. Baby talk mostly, I want him to know he’s loved but he was still too wild to touch. Anyway, this time I was still pretty upset. I just put his food in and started walking away. He came right out of his doghouse and started walking long side where I was going, down the length of the run. Then he started whining and I went over and, well I probably shouldn’t have, but I put my fingers through the side a bit and he licked them. This is the same dog that snapped when anybody tried to touch him.”

“So why does your wife think Duke is possessed by her father?” Alva asked. He could believe that the dog had sensed the woman’s distress, after all that sort of behaviour was well documented. It was a dramatic change, if the dog had in fact been as terrified of humans as the Hendersons claimed. Still, it was more than explainable by “normal” animal reactions.

“Well I think maybe it’s mostly the timing to be honest. This all started happening the night after the funeral. And, well, she says she looks into his eyes and sees it’s not Duke. She’s convinced herself it’s George, her father.”

“But you don’t agree?” Alva said.

“To be honest I really don’t think so. I don’t buy into that X Files, ghost possession stuff. And normally neither does Helen. That’s what makes it so strange, her insisting it’s George and all. She didn’t really get along with him so well and I think maybe she’s just desperate for something.”

“I see,” Alva acknowledged. “If you don’t mind my asking, why is it you called us? Just to prove to her Duke isn’t possessed?”

“Yes, and to prove it to me too.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t believe-“

“I don’t want to, Mr. Keel. But something just isn’t right about this dog. He has fits sometimes. Starts biting his paws and whining something awful. Last night he threw himself against the side of the fence here for nearly ten minutes straight. That’s when we decided to call you in the morning. I don’t know what’s wrong with this dog but I do know that Helen has never said anything so strange as thinking her father’s ghost was inside an animal. I gotta figure there’s some reason for her thinking that and frankly the way Duke here starts acting sometimes you’d think there was something inside him. Hell, I don’t know, maybe it IS ol’ George.”

______________________________

“So you see Paul whenever I look into his eyes I just know it’s not Duke anymore. I can see that,” Helen said, starting to get a little upset.

“But why do you think it’s your father? Why do you think he would return?” Paul asked. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground here.

“Because the dog has fits. He just starts howling and, and biting himself and last night he threw himself around. Oh, I know it sounds awful but I just know my father’s trapped in there. An-and he can’t get out!”

Helen got up and turned away from Paul. Silently cursing himself for taking the questions too far too fast Paul slowly stood and crossed the room to join Helen. She was standing in front of an old polished oak curio cabinet. Inside were a number of wood carvings, obviously hand done. There were small boats and trees and animals all about the size that would fit in a person’s palm.

“My father carved these. Used to spend hours making them,” she said sounding wistful, looking through the glass at the small masterpieces. Turning to face Paul she continued, “I couldn’t keep watching Duke do that … to himself. Most of the time he’s fine but every once in awhile he just goes off. That’s why he’s still in the run, why we haven’t taken him out even though he’s not scared of us anymore. I need you to help him. I need you to get my father out of there.”

“We’re going to help you Helen. Alva and I just need a little time to figure out the best way to do that, alright?” Paul said in his most reassuring tone. Helen was getting too upset and he thought it would probably be best for him and Alva to return in the morning to continue.

They went outside and Alva agreed that it was late and since it was now mostly dark out he couldn’t really examine Duke further. Saying their goodbyes Paul and Alva headed out. There was a motel not far away, still on the outskirts of town. They headed into the attached diner to grab a meal and confer on their findings.

“So, what do you think?” Paul asked after finishing telling his side of the interview day.

Across the booth Alva set down his fork. “I suspect the Hendersons are cueing the dog. However unconsciously, I believe they may be rewarding this behaviour.”

“I don’t know Alva, it sounds like a pretty dramatic change. You think that would be enough?” Paul questioned.

“Sure, domestic animals can become very adept at reading human cues. Consider the Clever Hans case. The horse ‘counted’ by reading very subtle cues of the people around him.”

“But it’s not like Mrs. Henderson is nodding her head to get Duke to keep pawing the ground in a math equation here. Besides, why would she even want to do that, cue it to act like that? She’s really upset that the dog is trying to injure himself. I mean I understand why she’d want it to be less afraid around people but do you really think she teach it to throw itself against the side of the cage?”

“I don’t think she is even aware she’s doing it,” Alva explained. “It’s no different than the horse, unconscious, nonverbal cues are cueing the dog’s behaviour.”

“Alright, let’s say we’re pretty sure she’s not doing it on purpose.”

“Probably not,” Alva agreed.

“Well what about Gus? What do you make of the guy?”

Alva filled Paul in on his side of the interview.

“So no, it doesn’t seem very likely that Gus is purposely cueing the strange behaviours either. But, we should rule it out tomorrow.”
Before Paul could ask how Alva planned on doing that the man continued, but now it a rather frustrated tone, “If only I’d had a chance to more thoroughly examine the dog. It would certainly help narrow down the possibilities.”

“Possibilities … as in we could be looking at a dog that really is possessed?”

“Highly unlikely,” Alva said.

“Look, Keel, I gotta tell you I’ve never looked into a case of possible animal possession before. It kind of falls outside of my normal, um, criteria,” Paul admitted.

“Yes, well, to be honest with you Paul I’ve yet to see a real case of it either. I’ve looked into several over the past several years and listened to far too many bird calls…” Alva paused, looking down at the table for a moment before continuing with a slight shake of his head, “but I’ve yet to find a genuine case of an animal being possessed by a human spirit.”

“So what do we do next? Examine the dog without the Hendersons present?”

“They won’t let you near Duke alone. Not inside his run anyways. They won’t even let me feed him,” a female voice said from right behind Alva.

Paul’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline as a young woman who looked barely in her teens came around the booth and plopped down next to him on the bench seat. She had obviously dyed black hair and matching nail polish, black clothes covered in an odd assortment of safety pins and silver buckles and dark black makeup around her eyes and on her lips. When she dropped down to sit her many chain necklaces clicked together and her eyebrow ring bounced just slightly.

“I’m Lisa Henderson,” the girl said by way of greeting before snatching a cold fry off of Alva’s plate. “So I take it my parents called you guy to come look at Duke. What are they paying you anyways?” Taking a closer look at the men she shared the booth with Lisa added, “You guys don’t look like veterinarians. Oh my God, don’t tell me Dad called you cause he thinks Mom’s going crazy. Did she tell you what she thinks is wrong with Duke? Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Having found himself unable to get a word in edgewise before, Alva took advantage of the girl’s temporary quiet as she continued eating left over French fries off his plate. “Nice to meet you Lisa. I’m Alva Keel and this is Paul Callen. Your parents did contact us this morning about Duke. And no, we aren’t veterinarians.”

“Oh,” Lisa said, now looking at them slightly suspiciously. “So if you’re not vets then do I even want to know why they called you? You’re not going to rip my parents off are you?”

“No, Lisa we’re here to help your parents and Duke,” Paul said reassuringly. “I know you must be worried about them lately.”

“Ya, well, I just don’t want them wasting my inheritance, ya know?” Lisa said. Neither man believed her flippant response and as much as Lisa looked like she was trying to rebel, it was clear she was concerned about her parents.

“Lisa, do you need a ride home, or do you have a car here?” Paul asked. He doubted she was old enough to drive but he knew pretending to mistake a young teen girl for a few years older than she really was couldn’t hurt.

“I guess I could use a ride,” she admitted. “I was gonna walk but that would be way faster.”

Looking out the diner window into the dark night Paul said, “You shouldn’t be walking out there in the dark alone. It’s not safe.”

“You’ve been out to my house, you know there’s like nobody out there really. I’m probably more likely to get eaten by a bear than attacked by somebody. But hey, save me the walk. I’ll get my bag.”

Lisa left the booth to grab her backpack and coat from a coat rack near the front. From his vantage point Alva could watch the teen talking and laughing a bit with a waitress. He could also see the way the girl looked back several times trying to see Paul.

Pulling out the car keys Alva set them on the table.

“You’ll question her further on the drive?” he said in a tone that was half question, half statement.

“Sure. I got to wonder why her parents let her out by herself when it’s dark out like this,” Paul said.

Alva didn’t find it strange but he wasn’t about to point out to Paul that the man wasn’t probably the best judge of normal parental rules and practices given his background. Then again, Alva thought to himself, maybe his experiences weren’t all that typical either.

“Hey,” Paul said grinning, “Why do I have to drive her?”

“Because I already drove all day today. Besides,” Alva watched as Lisa walked back towards their table, her eyes glued to a clueless Paul, “I think she has a bit of a crush on you.”

“What?” Paul said, sounding totally surprised. “I think you’re mistaken, Keel.”

“Are you ready to take me home?” Lisa asked as she approached the booth.

“Paul will drive you home,” Alva stated with an expression that came very close to smirking. Not that Lisa noticed.

*****

“So, Lisa …” Paul began. He rarely felt uncomfortable talking with kids, even teens seemed to warm up to him well. Actually, that was the problem really – Lisa was warming to him just a little too well. Paul felt acutely uncomfortable as he drove, seeing Lisa staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Then something else caught his attention.

As they passed under one of the few and far between street lights on the highway, Paul noticed a glint of light on one of Lisa’s necklaces. He hadn’t noticed it before, having admittedly been distracted by the shear number necklaces that adorned her neck. But this one, the one that caught his attention just now was different. Unlike the chunky silver chains and black leathers cords, the smaller piece of jewelry was barely visible. On a delicate gold chain hung a small gold cross with a thin silver X shape in the middle.

“That’s very nice,” he said, motioning towards his own throat. “I had one just like that a long time ago.”

Lisa looked down at the jumbled assortment of decorations that were ever present around her neck these days.

Confused Lisa said, “Riiiight. Back in your wild and rebellious days?”

Smiling, Paul answered, “Not exactly. I meant your cross. Did you mother give that to you?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, yeah she did. Last year for Christmas,” Lisa said, fingering the cross lightly as she spoke. “You had one like this too, huh? Did your mom give you it?”

“No,” Paul said, blinking back memories. “No, it was a gift from someone else, when I went to seminary.”

“Oh,” Lisa said, immediately sitting up straighter. “I didn’t- um, that’s cool,” she finished.

Without taking his eyes from the road, Paul was very much relieved to feel the girl’s eyes no longer staring at him like he was a Johnny Depp photo in an adolescent girl’s locker.
After driving in silence for a few moments, Lisa asked, “Okay, be straight with me … if you’re not a vet why’re you and that other guy here to look at Duke?”

“Well, Lisa, Mr. Keel and I, we investigate things, strange things.”

“Strange would be a dog that, I don’t know, brushes it’s own hair or something. It’s because she thinks he’s possessed, right? I mean, that’s really why you’re here isn’t it?”

“We’re here to try and help your parents.”

“Even when you find out that Duke’s not possessed by Grandpa?”

“One way or another your mom’s going to feel a lot better once she knows, right?”

“I guess,” Lisa said unsurely.

Paul waited in silence.

“It’s just … I think she really WANTS it you know? She wants to believe Duke is possessed by her Dad.”

“Why do you think that, Lisa?” Paul prompted.

“Look, I don’t know how much she told you but, Mom and Grandpa … they didn’t get along so well.”

“Mmm.”

Lisa sighed. “So you’re like a priest, right? I mean, if I tell you something you wouldn’t go telling it all around or anything? You won’t tell my Mom, right?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Paul said. He seriously hoped the teen wasn’t about to confess something totally unrelated and expect him to absolve her of her sins.

“Okay, Grandpa, he didn’t get along with anybody. Pretty much everyone hated him.

unfinished

~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~