Deadly Night (26 page)

Only Jackie and Fiona’s stability would save us tonight, since I had no doubt neither one of them would let the distractions of being filmed throw them off course.

Good for them…I better get my ass in gear downstairs.

“
Time’s wastin’ boys!”

I threw myself into full throttle. A veteran of this process for several years now, I’m the guy who showed Tony how to do it, a few years ago. It only took a few minutes to set up the cameras and recorders, but synching them up took us until 8:06 p.m., according to my watch.

“
Okay, we’re going to move through the first floor now,” I advised the camera guys, who simply nodded. Justin snickered while Tony wore another of his shit-eating grins. Great. Just as long as they don’t clam up when it comes to the ad-lib banter the TV pilot’s producers are looking for. “On previous trips here, we’ve captured dissolving orbs with our video cameras, and a full ghost face reflection on a still shot. Fiona also captured one of the clearest EVPs we’ve ever collected, and that was near the staircase over here.”

I pointed to the ornate oak staircase just ahead. The Colliards left the night security lamps surrounding the staircase turned on, for obvious protection. People used to break their necks all the time back in the day, and it really gets dark in here when the lights are off. Our hosts worry about a modern tragedy, where a lawsuit would assuredly close the place down.

The station’s cameramen nodded again. They must be under strict instructions to interact as minimally as possible. Well, I guarantee the cut-up comment they caught earlier from Justin will be it for tonight, then. I’ll have to address this later with Jackie, and make the suggestion that these guys need to participate—at least a little, until Justin gets comfortable. The producers will be glad they did, I’ll say that. As for me, all I need is something irritating or humorous to poke fun at. Maybe that’s all Justin needs, too…so we’ll see.

It’s kind of weird going through each room snapping pictures while the two bigger cameras follow us around. I’ll bet the station will have to invest in infrared cameras like the other paranormal television crews.

“
Anything significant yet?” asked Jackie, once the rest of the gang rejoined us on the landing. “Tom caught something upstairs with his camera, and Angie was there to see it, too!”

“
Well, how about that,” I snickered. “Probably still need more proof, though, don’t you, Angie?”

“
Yep!” she quipped, smiling naughtily. Granted, in the dimness, it might’ve been Angie’s usual smirk. “Irrefutable proof means a lot more than some shadow passing by us, or a heat signature registering on the screen. Give me a damned apparition I can see and taste!”

Did she really have to go there—licking her lips as if longing for some big ole ghost dong to have some fun with? Damn! And I had a hard enough time getting over that mist invading my house last week... I just hope her suggested fellatio dissipates from my memory pronto. No Angie nightmares for me. Please.

“
Well, we better get started down here,” said Fiona, motioning for her group to split up on the main floor. It’s probably what we should’ve done. “Jimmy, we’ll meet you guys in the foyer in about an hour. Okay?”

“
Sure.”

I motioned for my group to separate upstairs. I took Sam with me, and Brandon joined Justin and Tony. We planned to meet on the landing in thirty minutes, and then trade sides.

Sam and I began our tour of the seven bedrooms on the north end of the house, starting at the far end and working our way back to the landing.

“
So, have you ever been inside a haunted house before?” I asked, turning slightly toward him, mindful to avoid looking directly into his camera’s lamp.

“
Nope…can’t say as I have,” he replied.

“
Well, much of what we uncover tonight, your camera might not catch—

“
Whoa, man! Hold on a moment….”

“
What?”

“
I just saw something…it’s gone now, but I might’ve caught it with my camera.”

He pointed to the first bedroom, which we’d just left when we started our conversation.

“
Can we take a look at the video?”

“
Not yet…boss’s orders were to run for three hours straight, so we’ll have plenty to review later on,” he said, turning the camera toward that bedroom again. “I’m not supposed to carry on a conversation with you either.”

“
That’s my fault,” I said. “But I’d still like to know what you saw.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then sighed. I could barely discern his head shaking in the dimness.

“
It looked like some guy with a top hat sitting in that chair.”

He pointed to the antique high-back sitting near the window, next to a large armoire.

“
He stood up too. I thought he was about to join us.”

“
They can’t hurt you, man…just remember that.”

“
Who?”

“
Ghosts.”

We checked the rest of the rooms, but didn’t detect anything. I could hear Justin and Tony laughing on the other side of the hallway, and I saw an occasional camera flash.

Hopefully that was funny enough to keep the pilot alive and well....

The only other significant thing we encountered on our side happened in the same room the apparition appeared in. On our return to meet the others, we paused for a moment. Hoping to see the apparition? Maybe...but we experienced a deep chill that pervaded the room. It felt like a cold night in January, where a short while earlier July’s humid stuffiness greeted us.

Even Sam thought that was really weird…. It actually frightened him, I think, perhaps even more than the spirit he thought he saw. That could be chocked up to shadows and light. But, Sammy my man, temperature fluctuations ain’t so easy to explain away, are they now?

“
I think Tony just encountered something back there,” Justin advised, pointing behind him when the others rejoined us.

“
It looked like some guy with one of those Abraham Lincoln hats,” added Tony, pointing to the hallway behind him.

“
Did you guys get it on film?”

“
We might’ve,” said Justin. “Brandon, here, thinks he might’ve caught it with his camera too, but—“

“
He can’t share that with us until after the investigation,” I said, interrupting him. That’s truly a bad habit of mine.

“
How’d you know?”

“
Because Sam can’t do it either,” I explained. “It’s quite possible he might’ve caught the apparition with his camera too.”

“
Really?”

Justin sounded more hopeful than surprised.

“
Hey, guys?”

Fiona called to us from downstairs.

“
Yeah?”

“
Maxine and Lovell will be here in a moment. They’re coming home early…. Why don’t we go ahead and close things down for the night?”

“
Are you sure you want to do that?” I called down to her. “We’ve got a lead on a ghost wearing a top hat up here!”

“
Really?”

She sounded just like Justin.

“
Well, we might have to come back for that, hon,” she continued. “I told Jackie, Angie, and Tom about the reading from the other night, and they’re ready to leave now…or at least as soon as possible.”

That surprised me. I figured she’d wait for a more appropriate time to share such information…. Then again, when would that be? Especially since she’d intended to do it immediately after the unpleasant revelation came to her two nights ago.

“
What reading?” asked Tony, whose question was quickly echoed by Justin.

“
We’re on our way down…just give us a moment to collect Tom’s recorders,” I said. “Or does he want to come get them himself?”

While waiting for her reply, I told Tony and Justin it’d be best for Fiona to handle the telling of what she picked up Sunday night from the ‘other side’.

“
He’s okay if ya’ll pack things up!” said Fiona, her voice sounding a little more excited. Just then, the Colliards’ Navigator pulled up in the driveway outside. “We’ll get busy packing everything else down here!”

“
Okay!”

We hurriedly gathered our stuff—all of this caught by our attendant cameramen. I can’t speak for anyone else, but what felt like guarded curiosity from the spirits who frequent the halls of Twin Forks mansion seemed to turn more menacing. In other words, it suddenly got a helluva lot creepier. Several times, we all looked over our shoulders while returning Tom’s expensive recording equipment to its protective crate. Even Sam repeatedly glanced back toward the landing on the way downstairs.

I had hoped that Fiona’s revelation would be met with calm open minds, and that our peers wouldn’t overreact. But it didn’t happen. They all took the news hard, though Tom and Jackie seemed the most upset. I’m sure we presented quite a sight for Mr. and Mrs. Colliard upon entering their esteemed Victorian.
Haunted
Victorian, I should say. I just hope we’ve got the goods on film and our digital memory cards, so we can redeem something positive from tonight. That’d be nice for our hosts, and even nicer for the producers who have their butts riding on our abbreviated investigation’s results. At least we’ve got plenty of drama for em’.

The night ended with Tom driving back to his sister’s place along with Tony and Justin. Angie and Jackie hadn’t moved back to their apartment yet, so that meant one more stay-over with their Franklin benefactors. As for Fiona and I, we already planned to spend the rest of this week at Stella’s place in Goodlettsville.

As long as we can avoid a confrontation with the killer still at large.

We all believe he’ll strike again, it’s just a matter of time...likely pursuing us one by one and when we least expect it. It leaves just one maddening question for us…one that even Fiona’s guides can’t answer.

When?

“
Jimmy! Good to see you, brother!!”

Chris was the first one to greet me Wednesday night in Madison, accosting me as soon as I stepped out of the Camaro. He seemed much giddier than usual …either high off his ass on dope, or music. Hopefully it’s the latter.

Either way, it’s always a great feeling to rejoin my music buds again…a bond that’s really hard to explain, forged on some other level, man. The heightened fear about our red-headed menace couldn’t deter me from coming to rehearsal tonight. Not even after a stressful return to my day gig at the call center. There’s no way in hell I’d jack up my chances of hitting the big time. And not just my chances…the other four guys’ fates are tied to mine. We either make it as a solid entity, or look back ten to twenty years from now on what might’ve been.

“
Hey, Chris!” I said, giving him a warm hug with a solid pat on the back.

He’s definitely been smoking some high-priced weed, man—affordable only on a single dude’s income. “Everybody else is here, I take it.”

“
Yeah…I wanted to be the one to bring you on in, before we show you the latest stuff we worked up this past week,” he advised, motioning to my axe in the backseat.

I waved him off, politely, since other than my briefcase filled with CDs and lyric sheets, I wasn’t burdened carrying my fretless.

“
We’re still running with the same playlist for Saturday, right? Or, have there been any changes?”

I tried to sound nonchalant, though I really hoped we didn’t scrap anything of major importance. Major important to me, anyway.

“
Just one change…one song chosen for its prowess over another,” he said, smiling with that same shit-eating grin I’d seen on so many faces lately…Tony, Angie, Justin…and now Chris.”

Before I even nodded a tentative ‘okay’, he stepped through the main entrance, calling behind him for me to close the heavy steel door and make sure it was locked.

No problem with that request, with a crazed serial killer on the loose.

“
Jimmy Boy!”

Max? Mr. ‘I think you’re a frigging pussy-whipped wimp’ is actually
glad
to see me? It made me do a double take…. But hell, they’re all acting like this…real strange. Ricky and Mongo are just as giddy. Some d
amned
good weed around here some place. Just lead me to it, and we can all act like we just found Jesus.

“
Are we ready to play him the demo?”

It’s Chris’s show still and Ricky’s wearing that same Cheshire Cat expression.

“
What demo?” I asked, while my heart sank a little. Apparently, the guys had created a new song without me, which is okay in a sense. But to record it meant somebody else handled the bass line. That totally sucks.

“
Chill, dude!” Ricky chided, moving over to where I stood and grabbing me by the shoulder. “Have a seat at the board, and we’ll let you hear it.”

I suppose you don’t work closely with someone for nine years and not learn to read them. Either that or my pissed-off expression told him I needed comfort. Could a cookie and blanky be far behind?

“
So what’s the song called?“

“
Shhhh!!” Now Mongo admonished me, while Ricky queued the recording. “Just
listen
, Jimmy!”