Cree left the Garden District and drove to the Warrens' house, where she was surprised and disappointed to find Jack's cream-colored Mercedes in the driveway. She had hoped to get to the tough stuff with Lila today, which was likely to take a lot of coaxing, encouragement, and refocusing. Jack's being there could distract Lila, or, worse, functionally censor her.
She got another surprise when she rang the bell and Jack ushered her into the foyer. Lila was there, holding her purse, dressed as if ready to go out.
"I want to go to the house," Lila said. "This morning. Right now before I chicken out again."
Cree just tipped her head inquiringly.
"We had a big fight last night after you left," Lila explained.
Jack began, "Honey, do we have to – "
"A knock-down, drag-out humdinger," Lila continued. She had the red, puffy eyes of someone who had been crying, but she also had a look of angry determination, as if she'd hit bottom but had found some gritty resolve down there to sustain her.
If Jack had been keeping any cool at all, he lost it now. He was taking huffing breaths as he stood looking at Cree with his elbows out and fists dug in at his waist.
"As long as we're determined to air our dirty laundry with an audience present," he said, "I told my wife I didn't think it was wise to continue with this… this charade. She was a damn shambles after you left, but she still wasn't goin' to tell me just what it's all about, what the hell she is so afraid of over there. I told her this thing is ruinin' our marriage, and I also told her I want Ms. Cree Black to butt her ass on out of our family life!"
"Jackie!"
"I mean, encouraging her, this thing of- "
"And I told Jackie he was right," Lila interrupted. "He's entitled to know, I owe him that. But I can't go over it and over it with every last person, it's… it's too much. So we agreed, Jackie, that today we'd go to the house and I'd tell you both, I'd show you. Get it done with. And that after we've heard Cree's opinion, / will decide what to do for my own peace of mind!"
Jack spun away, frustrated. Lila just looked beseechingly at Cree with those haunted eyes.
Cree scrambled to adapt. Obviously, she'd landed smack in the middle of a marital crossfire as well as a metaphysical and psychological crisis. She'd really have preferred to hear it from Lila without Jack there, but that option had obviously been negotiated out of the picture. Best to roll with it, make it work to everybody's advantage. If these were the terms for getting Lila to Beauforte House, she'd take them. Anyway, there might be therapeutic value in Lila's telling her husband the whole story.
"Mr. Warren?"
Standing with his back to her, arms crossed, he took a moment to answer. "Yeah."
"Does that sound like a plan you can live with?"
"Yeah." Grudgingly.
Lila looked both relieved and terrified.
Cree told them she needed a moment to explain her process and introduce them to some of the technology before they drove over. She went out to the car, popped the trunk, and got out the big, aluminum-clad equipment case. When she came back, they all sat in the living room as Cree talked it through.
She explained that she wanted to hear everything Lila could tell about her experiences, with as much detail as she could recall. She also wanted to see the house, particularly the rooms where Lila had witnessed anything. She'd be glad to hear any history of the house that Lila thought relevant, but her main focus would be Lila's perceptual, mental, and emotional experience.
"Lila, Jack, I know you're both religious people, and I know the idea of there being… unknown entities… touches on belief and faith and can sometimes seem at odds with religious tradition. I'd be happy to go into the metaphysics of this with you later, but today let me just give you a basic idea of the science I'm going to be starting with."
She waited for nods from both of them.
"One of the consistencies we've encountered in our research is that paranormal or 'supernatural' occurrences seem to require a particular state of mind, or sensitivity, on the part of the person perceiving them. This doesn't mean the person is going crazy. Think of, oh, the radio telescopes we use to look at distant galaxies. They are instruments designed to pick up very7 subtle, but real, electromagnetic activity. Or the instruments we use to detect solar activity like gamma rays or X rays we can't perceive these things with our senses, but the right instruments can. You following me so far?"
A less-than-heartfelt nod from Jack: If you say so.
"Today we're going to focus on your mental and physical state, Lila, because so far you're the 'instrument' that's perceiving these subtle phenomena. You're the one 'tuned' to the right frequency. Many ghosts are not readily perceivable by more than a single witness, so if I'm going to see this one and interact with it, I need to come to know you pretty well. In fact – this may sound strange – you may even find me talking or moving a little like you. It's all part of my effort to think like you, to take on your mental and emotional state as a way of 'calibrating' my own perceptions, sensory and otherwise. Does that make sense?"
A halfhearted nod from Jack, some quickening interest from Lila.
"And beyond what you can consciously recall, it's likely that your body and your unconscious mind remember many things. So, Lila, if you agree, I'd like to fit you out with a kit that'll give me readings on your vital signs. I'll explain it now, but once you're rigged I want you to try to forget about it. Just focus on remembering your experience."
Cree lifted the case to the coffee table and opened it to reveal the foam-encased devices Edgar had so painstakingly adapted for the peculiar needs of ghost hunting. She hesitated over the voice-stress analyzer but decided that under the circumstances it wouldn't reveal anything she didn't know. Instead, she pulled out a fat, flesh-tone plastic finger clip that dangled an electronic plug.
"This is just like the clips you get when you go to the hospital. We'll put one on your forefinger, and it'll continuously take your pulse rate and blood pressure. The information will be fed to this" – Cree held up a strap of nylon webbing attached to a small black box not much bigger than a wristwatch – "which you'll wear like a bracelet. The box is a little radio-sending device that'll relay the data." She handed them to Lila, who turned them over in her hands uneasily.
"Relay it to where?" Jack asked.
Cree handed him a bigger, titanium-cased box with a number of output plug receptacles and a series of knobs for adjusting sensitivity levels.
"This is a receiving and recording device – I'll be carrying it in a fanny pack so you don't have to be too burdened, Lila. It'll digitally record the readings from your monitors. Later, we'll print the readings out on a roll of graph paper, just like an EKG, so we can review and precisely measure your responses."
Jack passed the recorder to Lila, who gave it only a distracted glance and set it back on the table.
"We also like to use some other medical monitoring technologies, and my partner uses a wide array of sensing devices that measure and record environmental phenomena. But that'll come later. At this stage, the most complicated gear we'll use is this." Cree took out a harness of elastic fabric and wires. "This coiled wire goes around your chest, and this band around your waist against your skin. The first one will tell us your breathing rate and depth. The other – you see the little metal buttons? Those are electrical contacts that'll tell us about your skin conductivity levels."