by Aiden James
“It’s good to see you too, Fiona!” said Charlien. “And you, Jimmy!”
I’m not one for a bunch of hugs with relative strangers, but we’ve grown to really like the McGlothins, even though we’ve only been here a few times over the years. Kind of strange we’d be on such casual terms, I guess. But it’s sort of cool, too.
I shook hands with George after Charlien moved on to Jackie who introduced her to Angie. I took this cue to introduce George to the guys in our group and our camera crew. Since Officer Ted hadn’t ventured from the side of his squad car, I didn’t feel the need for introductions in his case. Fiona’s knowing look told me she wasn’t inclined to do it either.
“We’re going out to visit George’s uncle for awhile, and should be back in a couple of hours,” Charlien advised. “You’ll have the full run of the house, except our quarters upstairs.”
“That’ll work great,” said Fiona, glancing back at all of us and our near-unanimous nods. “I’ve already briefed the gang on the rules, so none of the furniture or glassware will be touched.”
“Good. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, but I could tell from the relieved look on her face it’d been a worry for her. She and George had spent more than a hundred grand finding enough period pieces to make the parlors, reception areas, and guest rooms look much like they did back in the 1880s. “Here’s my mobile number if anything comes up before then. You said something about finishing up by ten o’clock.”
“Yes, I did. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to visit after we finish the investigation tonight,” my wife advised. “Once we get our findings put together in the next few days, Jimmy and I’ll be back out here. Tom and Jackie will come with us, so we can give you the complete analysis of what we discover tonight.”
Fiona added a hopeful smile, and Charlien told her quietly that arrangement was fine with her, clasping my wife’s left hand while giving her the note with the McGlothins’ cell phone numbers. Lovell led his wife to where their Navigator sat, next to the squad car. He nodded to Officer Compton after they got in, and Charlien rolled down her window.
“We should be back around nine-thirty. See you then!”
“All right, we’ll see you in a little bit!”
Fiona waved, and the rest of us joined in. Even the camera crew…it’s sort of interesting to watch the persuasive power of the alpha in the group over everyone else.
“Okay, everybody, let’s set up the audio and video recorders upstairs and downstairs, so we can get this show on the road,” she instructed. “Jimmy and Justin will work with Tony downstairs, and Jackie, Angie, and I will join Tom upstairs. At eight-thirty, we’ll switch and trade levels. Our camera crew has their own agenda, from what Jackie told me earlier, so try to stay out of their way while they film us doing our thing.”
“Tom, would you mind if I use your infrared camera tonight?”
Angie’s sudden request caught us all off guard. Asking to handle Tom’s baby is akin to requesting a peek inside his underpants. It ain’t happening. Angie’s charms not-withstanding, the only way she’ll wrest the infrared from him is through physical force. More like a sneak attack with a bat to knock him unconscious. I envision the dude sleeps with the damned thing at night and probably takes it with him wherever he goes. I couldn’t help snicker as he pulled his beloved camera closer to his chest while he glared at her.
“What if she just tags along while you use it, so she can see what you see, Tom?” Jackie suggested.
Great idea. You could immediately feel the tension ease, at least with him. Not so much with our other child.
“How am I ever going to become a complete believer in what you guys do, if I can’t try out the equipment myself—unencumbered by anyone else?”
For crying out loud, Angie…why don’t you go buy your own damned camera if you doubt what goes on among us?
“Ladies and gents, we don’t have time to bicker about this shit, so if Tom doesn’t feel comfortable sharing his toys, you’ll have to try some other sandbox, Muscle Mutt,” I said, my own abrasive side shining through. Already ten minutes to eight, this crap’s cutting into our game time. Like Fiona said, we need to get this show on the road... now!
Angie glared at me in response, her bright emerald eyes on fire. At least Tom seemed appreciative. Relieved, he led Jackie upstairs, where they carried the crate containing the remotes and other equipment.
“You can use either one of our cameras, Angie,” offered Fiona. “Jimmy and I’ve captured quite a few anomalies using both the Nikon and the Canon. And, we’ve got killer zoom lenses for both.”
“Nah, it’s all right,” she said, smirking again as if it’d all been just a joke to her in the first place. Odd girl, I say. “I appreciate the offer, Fi. But I’ll pass for now…maybe I’ll sneak a peek at what you’re looking at once we get going.”
“Sounds great!”
Fiona’s smile was completely genuine and sincere. I just hope Angie realizes what a good friend she’s got here. She and Fiona walked upstairs together, after Fiona gave me a light kiss on the mouth.
“See you later, Cracker Jack!”
Plenty of ice on that, delivered like a spitball to an unwary batter.
“Man, she’s showing you the same love I’ll bet she reserves for the hemorrhoids on that gorgeous ass of hers!”
Tony snickered at Justin’s joke, and before I turned around with my own wise-ass comeback, a pair of bright camera lights blinded me. Yep, the camera guys were right on top of that one…I should’ve known they’d be keeping a close eye on Justin and me. Sam Moore and Brandon Jones are their names, one black and the other white. Good natured dudes, twenty to twenty-five years old. The girl, Sally Preston, joined the others upstairs. Blond and petite, I figure she’ll get a thorough look-over by Jackie before the night ends.
This arrangement will take some getting used to…especially the network’s cameras sneaking up on us. It brings visions of the incriminating ‘asides’ Reality TV is famous for. That’s the last thing I’d want, to be saying shit you’d for sure regret later, like the divas on “Real Housewives of Atlanta” and other crazy shows like it.
“Well, okay…Tony, let’s set up the remotes in both parlors and the main reception area,” I advised, shielding my eyes from Sam and Brandon’s lamps while motioning for him to follow me. “We probably should put one in the kitchen and maybe another in the dining room too. You know?”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” he replied, huffing a little from the burden of his duffle bag. “I’ll be right there.”
“Hey, let me help you with that,” offered Justin, who encountered little resistance as he claimed the bag from Tony.
“Thanks, man.”
Tony smiled shyly at the camera closest to him, and I knew for sure the dynamic of working together would change for us. I would’ve stepped in and taken the damned duffle if not so distracted by the brief spat with Angie, and the added pressure of making sure we didn’t just wander around aimlessly in our inaugural investigation for the TV pilot. I imagine it wouldn’t take much to get the project nixed.
But I hadn’t considered the affect on everyone else.
I wondered if Tom would react like Tony just did, and God only knew what camera-shy Angie would do. In fact, she might become the star of this project, since everyone loves the bitches in Reality TV, whether that’s admiration or loathing. They get fanfare either way.
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 McGlothins 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 was kind of weird going through each room snapping pictures while the two bigger cameras followed 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. “You 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?”
“Charlien and George 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 Justin quickly echoed.
“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 y’all pack things up!” said Fiona, her voice sounding a little more excited. Just then, the McGlothins’ 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 landi
ng 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, although Tom and Jackie seemed the most upset. I’m sure we presented quite a sight for Mr. and Mrs. McGlothin 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?
Chapter Twenty-two
“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 that night. 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.