“Oh, goodness, Katy, I’m so sorry. Can we do this again?”
The metal bench I’m sitting on is secured to the wall. My spine is flush against that same wall. I stare at the blue dot next to the camera’s lens. I don’t smile.
“Of course,” I say.
“Sometimes this thing goes haywire. You haven’t moved, so I don’t know why each picture is so blurry.” Penny Wilson blows air through her bangs. She is the booking officer, the police chief’s administrative assistant, and quite unaware of the two sprites darting around the camera.
They dip and dive. While you can’t capture ghosts on film, they can certainly do plenty to mess up your glamour shot. Or, in my case, a mug shot.
“Cut it out,” I whisper.
“What, dear?” Penny raises her head so her eyes peek above the camera.
“I said, maybe the power cut
