Free Sam: A Novel Of Suspense by Iain Rob Wright

anything.”
    “Will
do,” said Tim, waving goodbye.  Once Jessica was gone, he turned to Angela with
a sad look on his face.  “Poor lady.  I think she’s at breaking point.”
    Angela
agreed.  “Can’t say I blame her.  This whole thing is very strange.”
    “You
ever see anything like it before?”
    “I’ve
seen a lot of messed up things in my time, none of which I wish to speak of now.”
    Tim
looked her in the eye.  “Do you believe in Evil?  Did you ever do a real exorcism?”
    “I…yes,
I believe so.  Once.”
    Tim
nodded.  “Charles Crippley?”
    “Yes,
but it’s a story for another time.  Have you ever encountered a genuine case of
– what do you call it – the paranormal?”
    “I’ve
seen a few things, here and there, which I can’t explain.  Most of the time,
though, it’s just hoaxes and superstition.  There was one time, though…”
    Angela
leant forward.  “Go on.”
    Tim
shrugged and seemed to change his mind about wanting to talk about things. 
“Well, let’s just say that at the beginning of my career I was indeed a conman,
just like Frank thought I was when he booked my services.  I was screwing
people over, left and right, playing off their grief to get their money.  Truth
be told I was a pretty reprehensible piece of shit, but one night in a hotel
changed my entire outlook on life.  Now I try to help people.  I try to find a
rational explanation for the things that are scaring them.  Ninety-nine per
cent of the time I manage to do just that.  The other one per cent keeps me
awake at night.”
    Angela
let out a joyless chuckle.  “Funny in a way, because I feel like I used to be
nothing but a conman too, back when I worked with the church.  I played off of
people’s grief and gave them the same line of bullshit that you probably did. 
I just wrapped it up in a different bow.”
    “Guess,
we’re going to make pretty good partners then, huh?”
    Angela
shrugged her shoulders and felt a knot come loose from her injured neck
muscles.  “Think the jury is still out on that one for the time being.”
    Tim
nodded, then stared into space for a moment as he seemed to turn over a thought
in his mind.  Eventually he said, “So what’s the plan?  You have any ideas how
to tackle this?”
    Angela
shrugged.  “I just plan on spending time around Sammie.  See what I can
observe.  When I was enlisted as an exorcist I took an interest in psychology; I
thought it would be pertinent.  In most cases a person’s mind is a lot more
likely to be damaged than their soul is.  Anyway, what about you?  What ‘tests’
are you going to perform?”
    “I’m
going to confront Ms Raymeady’s assumptions head on.  If she believes there is
some sort of demon at work then I will first seek to disprove that.”
    “How?”
    Tim
smiled.  “Best way to get a bear’s attention is to poke it.”
    Angela
didn’t know what that meant, but she had a feeling things would only get weirder.

 
    CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Angela
sat patiently on an antique chair while Tim hefted his equipment up to the
first floor.  He was amassing it in a cluttered circle outside of Sammie’s
room.  Frank had agreed to help with the experiments and was currently inside
with Sammie, setting up some infrared cameras, microphones, and seismographs. 
Tim had explained to her that he would be able to record the data and video
feeds onto a laptop twenty-four hours a day.  It all seemed like silly videogames
to Angela – boys and their toys – but she was determined to show Tim, and his
methods, the proper respect.  They were colleagues after all.
    Tim
came up the stairs, now on his fourth equipment run.  This time he was carrying
what looked like a doctor’s saddle bag.  “That’s everything,” he said, wiping
sweat from his forehead with his free hand.
    Angela
stood up from her chair and nodded to the satchel he was carrying.  “What’s in
the bag?”
    “Medical
supplies.  I want to see if