Free Finding Magic (downside ghosts) by Stacia Kane

suddenly, it was important to her. Somewhere along the line, between the day before when she’d seen the Warings’ living room transformed into a bloody abattoir and that moment when she stood looking at Jillian, it had started to matter to her. She wanted to figure it out, because she wanted to be right. To win.
    She wanted to prove that she wasn’t wrong about everything.
    “I’ll ask them,” Jillian said finally. “I’ll see what they think. And if there’s time and you want to look for a connection between the victims, I guess you can—after you look up Mark.”
    “Thanks.”
    A nod. “Well, come on, let’s check out the ghosts, anyway. But remember, we don’t have proof that the ghosts Anna and Bruce found missing have anything to do with the murders, much less that they were Summoned to pick people off some list or something. You can’t assume things in this job.”
    “Sure.” Whatever. Well, no, not whatever; Jillian was right. But still. The more Chess thought about it the more she thought it made sense, the more she could see how it could be done, even. How someone could use ghosts as murder weapons. All they needed to do was Summon some ghosts—
    No, they hadn’t found any evidence of Summoning. So how would they …?
    Maybe they could Host? No, a person could only share his or her body with one ghost at a time. Of course, there could be more than one killer involved, and hence more than one ghost. And it wouldn’t be at all unusual for people to let their ghosts go free to kill someone, or even for the ghosts to—No, that couldn’t be it in this case, though, because Trent and Vaughn hadn’t found any real evidence of other people in the house. Only ghosts.
    So how would someone move ghosts from place to place? How could ghosts be kept contained, kept in line, during that travel?
    A van. They could transport ghosts in a van, one of those windowless ones lined with iron like the Church used to transport corpses or those who committed magical crimes—or both.
    So someone could be at that very moment driving around Triumph City with a van full of ghosts, just waiting for their next opportunity. And if Chess wanted to get anywhere in the Church, she needed to convince Jillian that was a distinct possibility. She needed to prove it.
    As usual, the wide, bright hallway just inside the front doors made something rise in her chest, something she thought might be real happiness, real pride. She belonged there—well, sort of. They thought she belonged there, and she was going to make damn sure they never had reason to doubt it.
    They walked past the long low bench where people waited for Liaising appointments or to meet with other Church employees, up the staircase, and across to the library, where Jillian led her to the filing cabinets along the back wall. “The green labels are place files, where it’s recorded if a building or something is confirmed to be haunted. Mostly Debunkers use those, though we sometimes check them. Red labels are ghosts themselves, pre–Haunted Week deaths. If you want to check people who died after that, or living people, you have to check the computers, although how much information you can get depends on your position. Only Elders have access to full files, but we have almost as much, and then other employees usually have less. But to get everything you’re always going to have to ask an Elder or a Chief Inquisitor.”
    Chess nodded.
    “Here.” Jillian headed for the computers, typed something into one of them. “That’s the Inquisitor training login. It won’t let you alter any files, but that shouldn’t be a problem, right? So you can check out whoever you want there. You have a notebook or something?”
    Chess pulled hers out of her bag. It was tucked in right next to her flask; the sight of the flask made her mouth water at the same time as it sent a hot flood of shame and nausea through her body and into her stomach, where it sat and festered.
    But