The Extremely Careful Ghost Hunter

She had spent the entire afternoon installing the cameras and audio recorders in every nook and cranny of the three story late 19th century Victorian.

For her it was just another easy paycheck. Gullible people who had been sold a bill of obviously fraudulent goods. 

A haunted house. 

That was how this particular masterpiece of 19th century Victorian architecture had been marketed, and that was how it was sold...as a genuine, money-back-guaranteed, haunted house.

The sellers had seemed normal enough, a married couple with two children, quite rational in appearance and practice, yet they insisted to their Realtor, and to all prospective purchasers, and especially to the young couple who had finally purchased the house, that it was indeed haunted.

Which was why she had been hired. The young buyers had tracked her down on the internet. She had billed herself as an investigator of the paranormal and had boasted that she could disprove any claim of a haunting.

The young couple had hired her to do the exact opposite, however. They wanted her to prove that the house they had just purchased was verifiable as haunted.

She tried to talk them out of hiring her, showing them the DVDs of all the purported hauntings that she had disproved - DVDs that explicitly detailed how all the hauntings had been faked, and even including confessions from a few of the Charlatans.

None of which deterred the young couple. They wanted proof that the specific house they had just purchased was haunted, and the checkbook they put to her head was loaded - so she took the job.

So she now found herself staring at 14 different monitors, each one of them covering an entrance to the house or a room inside the house. There was not a single square inch of the house that she could not see.

The 24 different microphones she had placed inside and outside of the structure were all wired directly into her primary PC, and she heard every sound they picked up.

Which was crickets, mostly. Or nothing.

It was now after three in the morning and as she sipped on her fourth can of Red Rush energy drink she thought about the vacation she was going to take with the money she was raking in from this job.

At least that's what she was thinking until she felt the firm grip of a strong hand around her ankle...