Going into hiding had not been necessary in so long, Beth didn't consider slipping into the body of a mortal as a means of escape until days later. She scolded herself for the absent-mindedness, but once inside the body of one Jacob Schmidt, she didn't give it a second thought. She supposed Nemsemet's minions sensed the supernatural even within the shell of a mortal, and so moved quickly throughout the city. But whether or not they could sense the spiritual, she certainly could. Albeit a new talent, Beth grasped the ins and outs of it in quick time. For now it served as a spiritual navigation tool, highlighting the most infested areas of New Camden at any given moment and providing her with a safe escape route.

Why hadn't she ever gone into the business of private investigation?

She had to give up the body of Mr. Schmidt at some point, lest she want to drive him mad. On the outskirts of town, where the cityscape morphed into suburban neighbourhoods, she laid the mortal in a bush. The half empty bottle she shoved into his hand resulted in a few seconds of solid snickering: a relief in the endless intensity of Nemsemet's dominion.

Of all the houses, she chose the one with the neglected front lawn. She tried only to possess the bodies of those who might not be as missed as others when they lost their memories. The icy paresthesia that spread over her incorporeal form as she passed through the walls never became less uncomfortable. Beth made her irritation known as soon as she was inside, shuddering until picture frames trembled against the walls. 

Left-to-rot pizza boxes covered the floor with such density they may as well have been a second carpet. Discarded clothes and beer cans gave Beth everything she needed to make her decision. She followed the sound of snoring to the master bedroom, where a middle-aged man in a suit slept in an armchair by the window. Beth stood in front of the chair and fell backwards. His heavy body might have been difficult to move when she was a young poltergeist, but now she mastered temporary bodies like an experienced puppeteer. 

She headed for the daycare joint Parael had a hold on. He'd be able to explain some things for sure, and Beth figured the few good folks left would have gone there too. 

Using her puppet's wallet, she paid for a cab to take her a few blocks from Parry's. Beth approached the building slowly, surveying the area for unfamiliar spiritual signatures. Finding none in the immediate vicinity, she knocked.