1: The Freelance Medium.

"Do you hear anything I'm saying to you right now?" Cole's uncle asked as he unlocked the door to the tiny shop.

Cole massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger in annoyance. He sat behind the rickety wooden table they had set up in their makeshift medium shop.

"Yes, we have to charge more for our service or we're gonna die."

 Cole was tired of hearing the same story. We're broke, we're gonna end up homeless. If we don't pay these taxes, the people I borrowed money from are gonna burn this shop down, with us inside it. He understood they needed money. His uncle didn't have to harp on about it every day.

"If you hear me, then say something. I'm not just talking to myself."

Cole whipped his head around and stared at his uncle. He wanted to tell him off. Somehow, that seemed like a bad idea, though. His uncle had this air of mystery about him. He seemed like a lazy oaf, but he always got things done. Cole gave him a half-hearted smile and ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair. His rolled-up sleeve revealed some of the ink work that covered most of his torso and arms.

"I don't know what to say, Uncle Nicholas. Yes, we need to earn more money, but people desperate enough to seek the help of a medium rarely have many resources."

Cole gave a soft shrug and grimaced as he spoke. He hated they were struggling, but he couldn't force his clients to be more well off. When wealthy people died and left behind a mystery, their families normally paid a private investigator to figure it out. They only came to Cole if that didn't work. He could get the answer the investigator couldn't because he could talk directly to the deceased person.

"With my gifts, we could go on the road and make a ton of gold."

His uncle's eyes filled with intensity. 

"No."

He killed the conversation with a single word. This wasn't the first time Cole had tried to pitch this idea to his uncle. Each time, he had shut it down without even considering the idea. Cole felt that if uncle Nicholas was so against the only plan he offered, then he should come up with a plan of his own. 

Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his mother's silk scarves. It was a faded blue scarf with the letter M inscribed on it. He ran his thumb over the M as a woman appeared next to him. Her midnight blue gown billowed in a wind that Cole and his uncle couldn't feel.

"Hello son, is he nagging at you again?"

Cole smiled and nodded. He knew that summoning his mother would make him feel better. It always did. His uncle noticed what he was holding.

"Did you summon Michelle? Every time I try to talk to you about our future, you call on her. I would love to hear what she thinks we should do."

His uncle paced the room as he carried on. The small space containing only a desk and the table where Cole sat and talked to clients had creaky wooden floors. They groaned with every step his uncle took.

"Here's a plan, stop complaining and get an actual job you lazy-"

"Mom!"

Cole cut her off before she could finish insulting her brother. He tried to hide the surprised smile that spread across his face, anyway.

"Sorry baby, he just gets under my.....," her voice trailed off as she looked at her body. "He irritates me."

Cole laughed and nodded again as the front door to the shop opened. A tall, muscular man in a military uniform walked into the shop. Cole could tell by the way his eyes darted all around the space that he was unsure about them.

"Okay mom, I have to let you go for now. I'll call on you again soon."

"I know you will, honey. You know, your father would love to see you again. He misses you."

"Sorry, I love you," Cole said and stuck the scarf back in his pocket.

The soldier approached his table cautiously while searching the surrounding area.

"Who were you just talking to?"

"Oh, that was just my mom. She left, though. What can I help you with?"

The casual way Cole spoke seemed to stump the soldier. He opened his mouth, raised his right index finger as if he was about to make a point, and then sat down without speaking.

"So you really can talk to the dead? It isn't just an act?"

The soldier leaned in close to Cole as he whispered his questions. The old table whined as it struggled to hold his weight. The soldier heard it and backed away slightly.

"Yeah, he's the real deal. Who do you wanna talk to? A lost friend? An old enemy? An ill fated past love?" Cole's uncle crouched beside the soldier as he rattled off his questions.

His sudden barrage of questions caught the soldier off guard. The man jerked away while shoving Cole's uncle away from him. The attack left Uncle Nicholas sprawled out on the dusty floor staring up at the cobweb covered ceiling.

"We should clean in here more," he said without moving.

Cole ignored him and focused his attention back on the potential customer.

"To answer your question, I can normally talk to any deceased person. All I need is an item that belonged to them," Cole said.

"And of course, some form of payment," Uncle Nicholas called up from his spot on the floor.

Cole flashed an embarrassed smile. He hated the part where they had to mention money. If he could, he would help everyone for free.

"And yes, there would be a fee for this service," he said.

He shot a quick, nasty glare at his uncle and then smiled back up at the uncomfortable soldier. The man seemed to hesitate before finally reaching into one of his pockets and producing a small piece of white parchment.

"This belonged to a former squad mate of mine. I really need to talk to him."

The soldier's demeanor shifted from unsure to anxious as he handed Cole the rolled-up piece of paper. Cole had barely touched it when another soldier appeared next to him.

"Where the hell am I and why is there a dead guy in the middle of the floor?" The soldier asked Cole, while pointing to Uncle Nicholas.

"Hi, I'm Cole. Your squad mate is here to ask for your help," Cole said.

The dead soldier looked at the living soldier and started laughing.

"So, Brutus survived that ambush and now he wants to know where I hid the loot we stole?"

The spirit stroked his chin and stared at the living soldier.

"Is he here? What's he saying?" Brutus asked, anxiety laced his questions.

"He says someone named Brutus survived an ambush and now they want to know where hid the loot they stole," Cole said to the jumpy soldier.

The soldier went white in the face. His eyes grew as wide as platters. 

"My name is Brutus. I can't believe he really showed up," Brutus said. 

The shock on his face was Cole's favorite sight. He loved witnessing when people understood that his power was legit. It sent a feeling through his body that nothing else could compare to. He smiled at the realization settling over the soldier.

"So, where is the loot?" Brutus asked, leaning forward across the old table.

Cole glanced back at the spirit, and Brutus followed his gaze.

"How much loot are we talking about? For payment calculation purposes only," Uncle Nicholas said as he finally got up from his spot on the floor.

"Oh, it's enough to set you guys up for life. Unless, of course, one of you cuts the others out. Then It's enough to set your family up for generations," the spirit said.

Cole narrowed his eyes at the spirit's words. Was that what happened to him? Did Brutus have him killed for this loot he was now asking about?

"Did you cut him out of the deal and have him killed?" Cole asked Brutus before he realized he was doing so.

Brutus dropped his head.

"I didn't, but the third person involved in the situation did. I heard them talking about it as I was playing dead. He's also searching for the loot," 

The spirit flared with a red aura as Brutus spoke.

"That greedy son of a bitch Levi had me killed? Damn, I wish I was alive to kill that bastard," his eyes moved to Brutus, "you're still alive, though. If you want the loot, I want Levi dead,"

Cole's eyes widened when he heard what the spirit wanted in return. Could he relay a message that would lead directly to the death of another person?

"What did he say? Did he tell you about the loot?" Brutus asked.

Cole's heart pounded as he contemplated what to do next.