“Guys, guys,” Beth says, her voice strained. Jackson senses her annoyance and places his hand on her leg. Beth’s real dream is to work for a big marketing firm in New York City. I think Jackson’s charm is the only thing keeping her here.

“This is a sign,” I say. “We should turn back.”

“Oh, here we go.” Jackson pats the car. “Don’t listen to these haters. You got this, girl. Come on. Come on.”

The light turns green, and the lady with the SUV drives off. We sit idly for a few more seconds. Jackson mutters under his breath, coaxing the car to start. And then, just like that, Jackson gets lucky. The starter catches. The engine turns over. Jackson smirks, throwing me a sideways glance.

The man that lives on Maple Drive is named Frank. We park on the street, not bothering with the driveway, and when Frank opens the door there are these dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a dressed down businessman with his crisp buttoned up shirt and sleeves rolled up. Although I don’t mean to compare, I can’t help thinking about my father and how I’ve never seen him wear anything remotely ironed.

Pattering footsteps echo down the hall. A little girl runs up and clings to Frank’s leg.

“This is Carrie,” Frank says, smiling sadly at his daughter. She looks to be about six. When Frank says her name, she stares up at us with wide eyes.

Jackson kneels down in front of her. “Nice to meet you, Carrie,” he says. She hesitates and glances at her dad.

“Go ahead, baby doll,” Frank says.

Carrie holds out her tiny hand to Jackson. He smiles warmly to her. “We’re going to make everything all better. All right?”

My stomach flips as Carrie nods. Jackson stands and gestures to Elliot and Beth. We all help wheel a cart full of computer and video equipment inside the house. Frank holds the door open for us, his eyes lingering on me. I tell myself I just need to get through the next few hours. As long as I don’t blow my cover, I don’t let anyone down.

Jackson gathers the team, continuing with the pleasantries. “So, this is Beth, our computer wiz.”

Beth gives Frank and Carrie a small wave.

“And Elliot. Sound and video technician. He also specializes in EMF readings. Helps point us in the right direction. You know, so we’re not taking up too much of your time.”

“How’s it going?” Elliot smiles.

I have to admit, Jackson really could sell anything. He is at once charming and modest, gauging how to make the customer feel at ease. My brother grabs my shoulders. “And this is my sister, Angela,” he says, as if showing off a prize.