Ghouls Just Haunt to Have Fun (7 page)

On the other side of the table, however, a voice of reason piped up. “You know, I don’t think it was a suicide,” Heath said thoughtfully.

My eyes shot over to him. “Really?” I questioned.

He nodded, and his eyes held a faraway look. “I think she was murdered.”

Heath now had my full attention, but Madam Hateful and Captain Comb-over were unimpressed.

“Murder!” scoffed Bernard. “Ridiculous. No, I agree with Angelica. The girl clearly jumped to her death.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, unable to resist poking the tiger now that I had an ally. “I actually agree with Heath.”

“Of course you do,” said Madam Hateful, and she and Bernard exchanged knowing glances. “Perhaps when you’ve had a bit more practice you’ll be able to distinguish between a suicide and a murder,” she added, looking pointedly at Heath.

Heath turned red and took a sip of water, clearly intimidated by the odd couple. I was about to argue his point when our waiter appeared and began taking everyone’s order. After he left, the conversation changed to talk of the show. “Tomorrow I’ll need you four mediums to meet me down in the lobby no later than eight thirty. We’ve reserved one of the larger conference rooms at the Duke, and when we meet in the morning I’ll lead you there.”

“Can you talk a little bit about how this is going to unfold?” I asked.

“Certainly,” said Gopher. “I think initially we should set you up in groups of two. We’ve got a great inventory of haunted possessions for you to give your impressions on, and we’ll have these displayed one at a time on a table, with the owner of the item in question, who can verify or disprove your conclusions, on the other side of the table.”

I glanced at Gilley, and I could tell he knew I wasn’t liking that whole “disprove your conclusions” part.

“When you say you have the owner there to authenticate or disprove the medium’s findings,” Gil said, taking the lead for me, “do you mean that this person will be well versed in the object’s entire history? And the reason I ask is that M.J. can often pick up even the subtlest energies, some lost to history or to anyone living.”

Gopher nodded. “Yes, we’ve been very careful to research each and every haunted possession so that we can easily identify whether you mediums are reading accurate information. Trust me, if you’re all as talented as I think you are, this should be a walk in the park.”

But I still had my doubts, and they lingered all through our delectable meal and into the oh-so-delicious hot-fudge sundaes that followed.

Over dessert Gopher told us a little bit about his background. “I used to work as a producer for
60 Minutes
,” he bragged. “Did some really great stories there, but you know how it is at those news shows.”

Everyone looked at him curiously. Apparently we didn’t all know how it was.

“They burn you out quick,” he advised. “Then I kicked around for a while out in L.A. I had some great offers to work on some pretty cool stuff—you know, reality TV is where it’s at these days—but I wanted to do something hipper, not another
Idol
retread or
Big Brother
knockoff. That’s when I met Roger, and he and I had the same philosophy, know what I’m saying?”

Again all eyes around the table looked curiously at him. We didn’t.

“We wanted to push the envelope, man!” Gopher said. “So we came up with this idea and went to almost every studio in town with it. Eventually Bravo said yes, but they needed it done quick. Since Roger’s stuck in the Sudan right now on another documentary, I just had to pick up the reins and run with it.”

“I thought I saw Matt Duval in the lobby,” Heath said. “Is he part of this show?”

It took me a moment to place the name, but eventually I remembered that Matt Duval had been the spunky teenager on a popular TV family sitcom back when I was in high school. And if memory served me correctly, tabloid reports had had him in and out of rehab ever since the canceling of that show.

Gopher leaned back in his chair and smiled. “He is,” he said. “Matt and I go way back. We were college roomies at Berkeley. He’s actually doing me a favor by hosting this show. He’s got some real irons in the fire that he’s put on hold just to come out here this weekend.”

Somehow I doubted that, but I kept my thoughts to myself, and eventually our little party broke up and we left the restaurant to head back to the hotel.

Throughout dinner I’d become more and more impressed with Heath, and I discreetly asked him to join us for a cocktail in the lobby area of the hotel. He smiled shyly and trailed after us as we found a couch to settle down on and have a nightcap.

Steven played waiter. “What would everyone like?” he asked, reaching for his wallet, and again I was struck by how much I liked him for always being quick to take care of any company he found himself in—especially Gilley and me.

After he’d gone to the bar to fetch our drinks I turned to Heath and said, “So tell me about yourself.”

“Well,” he began, and I could tell that like many of us legitimate psychics, he was a bit shy. “I was born in New Mexico and raised in Santa Fe. My mom is Native American, and we lived on one of the reservations until I was nine, when she married my stepdad and we moved to one of the nicer suburbs.”

“What was it like living on a reservation?” asked Gilley.

Heath thought for a minute before answering. “It was really awesome and terrible at the same time,” he explained. “Like, I loved learning about my heritage and culture, but it was also very confining. The atmosphere of the reservation was pretty antiestablishment, and none of the leaders wanted us to mix with any of the white kids in the area, so we stuck to ourselves and kept our heads down, and because there weren’t a lot of kids my own age on the reservation it was pretty lonely.

“I think that’s why I developed my skills as a medium. I was starving for people to talk to, and the only people I could find were some of the spirits that walked the land.”

“Who did you end up talking to?” I asked, fascinated by Heath’s history.

“What are we talking about?” Steven interrupted as he came back with our drinks and took a seat next to me.

“Heath was just telling us about how he grew up on an American Indian reservation, and that he used to talk to spirits on the land.”

“Like who?” Steven asked.

“Billy the Kid for one,” he said. “And Kit Carson for another. He was hated by my people, but in actuality I really liked his spirit, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“That is so cool,” I said with appreciation. “I’m a direct relative of Doc Holliday.”

“No way!” he said.

“Way.” I smiled. “He was my great-great-uncle.”

“That is so awesome!” Heath said.

“My grandfather was the mayor of Valdosta,” Gilley piped in proudly.

Heath nodded, as if he already knew that. “His name was Abner, right?”

Gilley’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow!” he said. “You’re good!”

Heath blushed, then turned to me. “M.J., can I pass along a message for you?”

I felt my heart quicken, and before he even said another word I knew who was likely knocking on Heath’s energy. “Sure,” I said, my voice cracking.

“Your mom has been all over me since we first sat down to dinner,” Heath explained. “Her name began with an M, but I think her middle name was Lynn, right?”

I felt my eyes water, and I tried to get it together before answering. “Her name was Madelyn.”

Heath’s eyes brightened. “Duh!” he said, as if he should have put that together. “Anyway,” he continued, “like I said, she’s been all over me since dinner, and she wants you to know that she’s really, really proud of you. She says she talks to you, but usually you tune her out.” Heath looked at me with a curious expression, and I understood that he wanted to know why I did that.

It took me a moment to gather my voice and explain. Even though my mom’s been dead for more than twenty years, I still deeply mourn her loss. “You know how this sixth-sense thing works,” I began. “If I let my mom in to talk to me, I’d only want to hear from her. Plus, this stuff is so subtle, I think that I’d start to doubt whether it was really her or not. If she came to me, I’d assume it was my conscious mind making it up because I miss her so much.”

“I get it,” Heath said with an understanding smile. “I’m sort of that way about my grandfather who passed away about ten years ago and my stepdad, who died just last year. Anyway, your mom says she’s been having a great time looking in on . . .” Heath paused, and his eyebrows furrowed as if he were checking with my mom to confirm what he was seeing. “Do you have a pet bird that needs to go to the vet?”

Gilley laughed and slapped his knee. “That’s Doc!” he said. “Yes, M.J. has a pet parrot named Doc.”

“Oh,” said Heath. “I get it. She kept showing me this parrot and pointing to a man in a lab coat—I just assumed she was referring to the vet. I didn’t realize she was talking about his name!”

I was pretty speechless at this point. It’s one thing to connect with someone else’s loved ones—there’s a distance created that takes the emotion out of it. But to have someone just as talented tune in to my own mother . . . well, it almost undid me.

“She’s also saying she really likes Steven,” he said, glancing at my boyfriend, who smiled broadly and gave me a squeeze. “But she’s saying she thinks you should go easier on him.”

I barked out a laugh, because I can be a little tough on him, especially when I’m working. “I knew she’d take his side,” I muttered with a smile.

“Your mother is a smart woman,” Steven remarked.

I focused back on Heath, who looked as if he were concentrating really hard on something. He then looked at me curiously and said, “She also thinks that coming here wasn’t such a hot idea.”

I laughed. “Tell me about it, but I had no choice; I got suckered into participating.” Gilley turned red and suddenly became very interested in his shoes.

“Yeah, I kinda got the same message from my own guides,” said Heath. “But it’s good exposure, right?”

“Let’s hope so. What do you make of the other two?” I asked. “Bernard and Angelica?”

Heath rolled his eyes. “How the hell did they pass the screening test?” he wondered. “I mean, I don’t want to talk trash about anyone, but they don’t appear to be very talented.”

“I agree,” I said with a nod. “So, why don’t you and I pair up tomorrow during the taping? I think we both operate in the same way, and we’re probably going to complement each other during the shoot. It might be a good way to ensure we’re not portrayed badly when this thing broadcasts.”

“I like that line of thinking,” said Heath with a wink. “And what was your take on that whole freaky scene this afternoon with the woman who died outside?”

“Exactly the same as yours,” I admitted. “She was murdered, just like you said.”

“I keep getting the letter A associated with her killer,” said Heath. “I wanted to say something to the police when they were here, but I didn’t want to freak them out.”

I stared in awe at this young, incredibly talented man. “You know what?” I said to him. “Even I didn’t tune in to an initial. And I
did
say something to the police. So, because I’ve already broken the ice with the lead detective, would you mind if I mentioned that clue to him?”

“You’re involved in the investigation?” Heath asked, and I could tell he thought it was cool.

“More by accident than by invitation,” I admitted. “But I believe they think I’m credible, and every little bit of info helps, so we might as well give them this intel about the initial A too.”

“Absolutely,” Heath said, before he seemed to think of something else. “M.J.?”

“Yeah?”

“After we’re through filming tomorrow, would you maybe like to put our heads together on the woman’s murder and see if we can’t pull a few more clues out of the ether?”

Gilley looked as though he were about to burst with happiness, and I knew my partner was thinking only about the headline
Psychic Dynamic Duo Solves Local Murder Mystery
.
Film at Eleven.

I gave him a cautionary look but told Heath, “That sounds like a great idea. But let’s keep it on the down-low until we’re sure we’ve got something solid to offer the investigators, okay?”

“I hear ya,” said Heath. “I’ve always wanted to work with the police,” he admitted. “I’m addicted to those psychic detective shows.”

I laughed, and Gilley couldn’t resist telling Heath, “M.J. has solved a few murder cases.”

“You have?” Heath’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“Two,” I said, trying to downplay Gilley’s enthusiasm. “It hardly makes me a psychic detective.”

“Still, two is better than none,” Heath reasoned, still clearly impressed. “What were the cases?”

I told him the history of solving the homicide of Steven’s grandfather and the serial murder cases of some poor young boys in upstate New York.

“That’s awesome!” Heath said.

I smiled and tried to stifle a yawn. It had been a really long day. “I think we should get you to bed,” Steven whispered in my ear, adding the smallest purr.

I felt my face flush, and I cleared my throat. Making a show of looking at my watch, I said, “Might be a good idea to turn in for now if we have to get up early for the shoot.”

Gilley and Heath looked a little disappointed, but both of them nodded and stood up. “Good night,” said Heath, extending his hand. “I’m really excited to be working with you.”

I ignored his hand and moved in to give him a brief hug. “Thank you for passing on that message from my mother,” I whispered. “I really miss her.”

Steven and I gave our good-nights and headed up to our room. We left Gilley eyeing the front door, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of the San Francisco night scene. I imagined he’d head out for an evening of dancing and flirting and crawl back to the hotel for an hour of shut-eye before it was time to get up. Gilley had a reputation for being able to get by on very little sleep—especially when cute men were calling.