Ben and Karen make a great team in the detective business. It's rare that a freelance private investigator bodes so well with out being on the pay roll of a higher authoritative body like the department of justice or perhaps the local police department. Why aren't they running out of a legal organization? Because, they don't have to. After cracking so many cases, it's a question of heart and who can get the job done. People want answers. People want to know if their loved ones are cheating, who stole their money, where the family pet has gone, who murdered their loved ones, who the kingpins are in the drug war, and so on. It's getting harder with each case for Ben to come up with a story on how he found the evidence. He can't come out and say, 'oh, my dead girlfriend found out for me,' no one will believe him or else it won't stand in the court of law. There's nothing in the law books that says one cannot take the word of a ghost or use obtained proof from said deceased but it's just too darn complicated to convince judges. Sometimes, the case doesn't need evidence that will stand in court. Sometimes, Ben has clients who just want to know and find proof enough for them.
So, what do they do when things get a little iffy in the lack of proof? They call Franky Di Angelo. They've gone back in forth many times with cases where Ben needed help piecing together evidence or paper trails leading the precinct to find the dirty laundry they need to catch their man. The bad part is, Ben had to do something he didn't originally want to do. Four years ago, as the two realized they wanted to help in catching criminals and help in the legal field as a profession, they had found the man who killed several other men in a drug deal gone awry. Karen led Ben to him but they could do nothing because they did not find the evidence they needed to book him. The precinct questioned Ben's verdict of who the killer was so Ben made a deal with Di Angelo. He agreed to tell Di Angelo his secret if he kept it to himself and he helped him cross the legal tethers that would up in the justice system.
As Ben sleeps, Karen goes to the police department with Shauna's case on her mind. She floats through the front doors and the hallways of the Pittsburgh precinct and continues as she normally does to their computer main frame to search for Shauna's file. It lists the time reported, which was two days ago, all the missing person's identifying traits which were: blonde white female, age fifteen, one hundred and ten pounds, five foot four inches tall, usually wore a jeans, hair down to her shoulders, a white gold charm bracelet with hearts on her left wrist and a white gold necklace with a locket with her parent's picture inside that was probably a gift from some occasion.
"You poor thing. I hope you didn't go through what I did," Karen moans to herself in the quiet police station. There were a few officers walking around the facility at this time of morning. Karen looks around and then see's a clock. It's almost three a.m.. It's time for her to get back to the apartment where it is safe. She reads the rest of Shauna's file quickly to find all the information she needs before heading back.
Quite often known as the witching hour or even the devil's hour. Three a.m. is not a safe time for a soul to be roaming. There are many demons who search for lost souls who are still earth bound in order to send them to their rightful resting place. Some of them are the devil's right hand men themselves who made a deal to not spend eternity in the depths of the earth while others are just out to torment or eat lost souls to make them stronger. By rights, they can do what they want with lost souls as long as they still roam the earth. If they do not proceed to heaven shortly after death they've broken a rule of the after life. Souls are not supposed to interact with the living. They must go on to their fated path.
As Karen flies back to Ben's place she hears the same dark laughter Ben had heard. She's been followed by demons before but particular one has been after her a lot recently.
"Karen," she hears his voice as a loud whisper ruffled in the wind. She looks back worried but continues flying.
"Karen," this time it's as if he is taunting her.
"Karen!" The voice gets deeper with a bit of anger.
"Stay away!" She screams and the voice stops. She stops for a moment to look around.