Dark, dreary and disappointing, that is how Grace would have described tonight's outing with her paranormal investigation group. Any light from the moon and stars had been blocked out by the thick rain clouds and fog that hung in the air, and the rain and fog created an ambiance that lent itself to a sure success for tonight's investigation. And, as they trudged through the three floors of the old abandoned building, all of the group's participants were in great anticipation that every creak or gust of wind would lead them to something supernatural. Unfortunately, tonight's outing was a bust, which many of them are. In the end, there hadn't been a single supernatural artifact or experience, and the group decided to leave and have a late night drink at their usual hangout. Their venue of choice was a late-night restaurant in a remodeled gangster hideout that was used by many of the Chicago mobsters in the 1920's. It was a great place to eat, drink and socialize, especially for those who were into things like that, and the place still had many of its hidden passageways, trap doors and secret hiding places all still intact. Grace was definitely a big fan of the place. She loved the old gangster history of Chicago, as well as gangster movies. She loved sitting in this particular restaurant, absorbing the atmosphere and conversing with the staff, even when sometimes she was the only customer in there. She had often wished that the group could conduct a paranormal investigation at the gangster restaurant, but the current owner resisted.

 

After the group had enjoyed a couple rounds of drinks, her friends started to trickle off, calling it a night. Grace, however, found herself reluctant to go home. It was already nearly 2 in the morning, and even though Grace should just also call it a night and go home, she had an overwhelming urge to stay a little longer.

 

"You coming, Grace?" the last one in the group called out as she paid her drink bill and paused in the doorway. The lighting was even dimmer near the exit door, so when Grace looked up from her empty coffee cup, she saw that her friend's face was steeped in shadows, shadows with secrets from the hideout's rich gangster history. Secrets that she would love to discover. Somehow her just being in the old hideout restaurant, had filled her with the hope that that was ever a possibility. Grace shook her head at her friend's inquiry. "Ok, just don't forget you have work in the morning."

 

"I know." She gave the woman one last smile before turning to one of only two staff members who was still there, the pretty bartender standing behind the bar. The door closed with a soft click, blocking out the whistling wind. It still wrapped itself around the old building, though, pushing through cracks and making the entire place sound haunted. If only.

"If it's not too much trouble, could I get one more cup of java?" Grace called across to the bartender, holding her coffee mug up and shaking it a little.

"Sure thing, I just need to put on a fresh pot." The bartender pointed her thumb behind her to the empty coffee pot with an apologetic smile. "If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, it'll be up in just a few."

 

"No, I don't mind waiting," Grace replied. "I appreciate it." Grace liked the bartender. She was there most nights whenever Grace came in, and she always seemed to have this melancholy look about her. She was pretty, and Grace suspected that both men and women probably regularly tried to make their moves on her, but somehow she doubted that any of them would get the bartender's attention, which always seemed to be off in the distance somewhere. Maybe she had her heart broken, once, or perhaps one too many times.

 

Grace watched her wiping things down and putting away glasses for a bit before standing to stretch out her legs. She felt restless, and before she knew it, she was headed for a corridor that had caught her eye. She had never been down this particular one before, but when she reached the end of it, she saw a bathroom sign, so at least she knew it wasn't off-limits. There was an antique phone booth beyond the bathroom that didn't even look out of place here. Intrigued, Grace gave a slight smile as she stepped closer to inspect it, wondering if it was just for decoration.