The next morning found us headed to Avenches, a sleepy medieval town in the plains near Lake Morat. While the empty autumn fields rushed by the highway, I placed my feet on the dashboard of Matt's black van and studied my new hiking boots, the blue ones.

My partner spared me a quick glance from the driver's seat. "Happy?"

"Sure." The joy in Lou's eyes when I came home with my purchase made up for the shopping ordeal and sent a fuzzy feeling through my veins. "Lou insisted I needed to 'break them in' and that our outing today would be a perfect opportunity."

"He is right about the breaking in. It will be best if you wear them as much as possible before you go climb any mountain."

I pulled a face. "If only I wouldn't fear that it's my feet who'll suffer the breaking part."

Matt laughed. "Not if we picked the right boots."

"I'll keep you informed about the development." For me, I had already decided that the prospect of time spent with Lou made up for a few blisters. I hoped. But I agreed it was best to know if the shoes fit before we were on a prolonged hiking trip.

Matt pulled off the highway and followed the road winding across the hills, passing through small villages and agricultural land where farmers brought in the last harvest. Only corn and sugar beet remained on the fields this late in the year, a sign summer had slipped away and autumn claimed its spot. Placid black spotted cows grazed in the meadows and from afar, I could make out the silver surface of the lake nestling between forests and the vineyards on the southern slopes of Mount Vully.

Soon, we reached Avenches and followed the ring road eastwards around the centre to the Roman amphitheatre, a major tourist attraction of the region during the summer months. I'd visited it on a school trip as a child and later to hear a concert. It had become a favourite venue for open air festivals.

Matt pulled the van into the deserted parking lot and sent me a grin. "Looking forward to some actual fieldwork?"

"Always. And excited to visit that Roman cemetery Vic talked about. I've never been to a real archaeological excavation before, haunted or unhaunted."

"I'm sure you'll like it. I have seen a few when Vicky was at university. Most seemed like an improvised outdoor science lab with a touch of an Indiana Jones movie to me, with that hint of undiscovered treasure and unfathomable secrets beneath every stone." His smile faded, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as if something were bothering him.

"What's amiss?"

Matt stopped the drumming and shrugged. "Just wondering. I doubt this job will bring in money." His face was serious now, perhaps even strained. "It wouldn't feel right to charge an old friend like Vic." He snapped open his seatbelt but remained seated, staring into nothingness.

"What's wrong, Matt? We never talked about charging your friend and we don't have to. Let's just check the situation out. There's no guarantee we can help her or that this is even a genuine haunting. Take it as a trial run for our company."

"I know." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Vicky used to make fun of me and my pet ghosts, as she called them. Do you know you're one of a rare group of persons who never doubted my sanity?"

"Might be related to the fact I've met and interacted with my share of ghosts before first running into you. Why should I make fun of someone who sits in the same boat loaded with odd experiences?" I'd been the victim of derisive jokes too often myself.

Matt didn't move, his face a mask of worry. A glance at my phone told me we had another fifteen minutes until Vic planned to pick us up at the museum. "Alright, I hear you, mate. What if we get out of the car and have a look at this magnificent piece of antique architecture while you explain to me what ails you?"

"Aye, Captain." His smile was still reluctant.

In the chilly morning air, we walked over to the amphitheatre. The gigantic structure cut deep into the side of the hill the town was built on. Below us, neat rows of limestone steps stretched down to the oval of the arena. This construction method must have saved the Roman workers a lot of material and labour. Unlike the colosseum in Rome, the superstructure of the Avenches theatre had been destroyed, the stones reused to build the medieval town. Only a few blocks of crumbling walls around the structures built beneath ground level hinted at the dimensions of the original building. It was still impressive, and I could almost hear the jarring clang of gladiator swords disrupting the stillness of the morning.

We stopped at the rim of the giant oval pit to look down into the arena. I ignored the vinyl seats that filled the gaps where the Roman stone steps were missing and sat down on the topmost original rank, running my fingers over the rough texture of the cold limestone. "So, did I gather right? You are afraid your childhood friend is playing a major hoax on us?"

Matt set down the black duffle bag with his basic ghost detection equipment and took a seat beside me. "I wasn't, at first. Vicky seemed so sincere and shaken yesterday. But last night, I lay awake and couldn't help wondering."

I felt for him. "Does it matter, though? We visit her dig, check for a ghost, and then decide what we do next. We're in no hurry or financial pressure, not yet." I didn't need to point out that we were not in the comfortable situation to pay our own wages, either. At least with Matt living with his elderly parents and me crashing at Lou's place, our budding business for paranormal investigations had some financial leeway. For the moment. "Besides, we stand both above childish pranks. We know ghosts are real and should accept other's doubts."

Lost in thought, Matt picked at a spot of lichen on the stone step before he met my eyes. "You're right. I'm sure things will sort themselves out, and I'm glad I'm not alone in this." He got up with renewed energy and picked up the duffle. "Thanks for the pep-talk. Let's find out what got Vicky excited enough to admit ghosts might exist."

Side by side, we strolled along the rim of the theatre and to the medieval watchtower that held the museum. Like the rest of town, it was built from recuperated Roman stones, some burnt red in a long-forgotten fire, and snuggled into the place where the backstage part of the amphitheater must have been.

At ten sharp, a woman in her thirties with long dark hair and a friendly smile opened the glass door. "Good morning. I hope you didn't have to wait for long. Come in, please. Are you here to visit the exhibition?"

"A splendid morning to you too, Geraldine." Matt picked the name from a discreet name tag on her sky blue blouse. "We have an appointment with Victorine Bourquin. Is she around?" Matt used his most brilliant smile, and the curator blushed.

"Please come and wait inside. I haven't seen her yet, but I'm sure she'll be here any minute." Geraldine allowed us access to the tiny museum shop and shrugged while she stepped behind the minuscule counter. "If all goes well, we will get a new building in a few years. Everything is cramped right now."

It certainly was. While I indulged my ex-librarians heart and browsed the books on display, Matt chatted with the curator. I was engrossed in a comic book about the local Bronze Age pile dwellings and their archaeological excavation I hadn't known yet when Vic, wearing orange working pants and her new boots, panted up the stairs from what I took for the basement.

"Sorry, I'm late. I had to tour a class of schoolchildren and couldn't stop them pestering me with questions. Since we found the graves, the public interest has tripled." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and took a breath to calm herself.

Geraldine laughed. "These were the fourth graders, right? I find this age group is always the most interested."

"Oh, they were adorable, with an unsatisfiable thirst for stories about the past. There was one kid—I'm sure he'll become an archaeologist himself, one day."

"If he was anything like you at this age, I bet you're right. We parked over there." Matt pointed with his thumb. "Will this be fine?"

"This time of the year, yes. During the rock festival in summer, you'd get fined." Geraldine smiled at Matt.

I exchanged a quick glance with Vic, who rolled her eyes and pointed down the stairs. "I have my car by the road downstairs. We're short on parking space on the construction site, so it will be best if you leave yours here. I hope you don't mind?"

Matt lifted his bag. "No problem. I've got all we might need here."

Vic eyed his bulky duffle and raised her brows in suspicion. But she didn't comment, perhaps because of the curator listening in. "Right. Are we ready?"