FourIt had been one heck of a day off, fighting fire, doctoring, finding contraband weapons and a corpse, exposing certain arson and probable murder, with plenty of report writing on the side, not to mention the day-ending impromptu meeting with brass and bugles where the order, “Keep your mouth shut” was repeated until his head swam. Ben was all in. And he was staying in.
Ben lived in the old Port District in a closed brewery being renovated into apartments. His was the only unit so far and he the only tenant. The building was said to be haunted and, he had to admit, there were nights when it got spooky. There were always sounds of 'settling' and odds bits of light sometimes flashed in the corners of his eyes. But he believed it was mostly his imagination. He'd met no ghosts; just creaks
