Haunted mansion

“Heh, you must be really desperate to come to me.”

Pier was looking through the window of his apartment.

“Oh, dirty,” he muttered, barely audible.

“What?” asked the woman who sat on the chair in front of his desk. She was in her thirties.

She wore a white shirt and baggy jeans. The curly hair didn't give a lot of space for the face. Hmm, that’s not the red-dressed lady I expected, but well… let’s help her.

“Nothing, I was discussing your case with myself. Why did you choose me over all the other detectives? My reviews on Google aren’t too representative.”

“I’ve already been to a lot of different agents, but none of them believed me. Plus, you are much, much cheaper.”

He needed to raise his wages, as his payments were already too small a few years back.

The chair he sat on was comfy, not like the wooden one that woman sat on. He didn't want the clients spending too much time at his office.

He took the documents she brought and looked through them without assessing any of the pictures to not be biased.

“How can I help you then?”

She needed a while to start talking. It looked like even talking about this situation was stressful and scary for her.

“There is a ghost. In my apartment. I hate that apartment now. Can you please recognize that monster and help me with it?”

“That’s the problem with all the other detectives. They don’t believe in paranormal things even with proofs visible from the sky.” He got a bit angry at them as he was looking more and more through the photos.

“Please tell me, did your husband die recently?”

Her face saddened. He knew that he was right even without saying that aloud.

“And there it is. Our ghost. Even without a form of him directly, it's his soul that hunts you.”

“But why?. He loved me. I loved him too!”

Pier penspun for a bit before answering the woman's obvious, for him, question.

“Even if he loved you, he is hunting you for the bad situation you had. The haunted souls remember only bad things. It’s heartbreaking, but this is how it is.”

She was shocked, as no Google information prepared her for that answer.

“So, what can I do? Will you help me?”

“I can help you, but for now, you need to leave your apartment.”

Another day, another lady to be saved. He did hate Mondays.