by H. P. Bayne
Like one left by a hangman’s noose.
Sully could practically hear Dez’s shudder.
“Are you saying a ghost did that?” Dez asked. His voice pitched higher by the end of the question.
“I believe I made the scratches and the lower bruises myself,” Ed said. “I was being strangled and was trying to free myself. By morning, the bruises had formed, and I saw the noose mark. That one, I assure you, I didn’t make myself.”
“How did it happen?” Sully asked.
“Kevin and I decided to spend a full night in the place to assure ourselves it would be safe and comfortable for guests. We purposefully chose the most haunted part of the prison—death row. I took what’s known as Hell’s Gate, which is where condemned prisoners spent their final days. You can see how that went.”
Ed’s eyes filled with tears, and he ducked his head for a moment, wiping them away as he sniffled back emotion.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not a crier, but I’m so scared. Not just about the attack, but about our investment.” He lifted his head and scanned each of them. “Gentlemen, I need your help badly. People are clamouring to stay in the prison and in that particular cell. But I can’t, in good conscience, allow anyone to stay if there’s even a chance they’ll be physically harmed. I would be sick if someone were hurt while staying with us. Plus, think of the lawsuits.”
Ed pinned Sully in an intense gaze. “You’ve dealt with violent spirits before, I understand. Can you help?”
Sully nodded. “Yes and probably. If I can target the right ghost, I think I should be able to do something about it.”
“But you won’t get rid of all of them, right?”
Sully offered Ed a smile. “One thing people sometimes don’t fully grasp is that ghosts are more than faceless entities. They’re real people, out of body. They’re not there to be toyed with or played with or be made fun of.”
“I know. I didn’t mean—”
“I’m not meaning you, necessarily,” Sully said. “But you need to understand even if I get rid of the most violent ghost, the others might have their own bad moments if guests are being disrespectful. Don’t forget, these are likely the ghosts of men who lived or worked in a federal men’s prison. They’re going to possess some pretty strong personalities and behaviours to start with.”
Ed nodded. “I understand. But you can help?”
“I’ll try.”
“Even if the ghost wasn’t the victim of a homicide?” Dez asked. “You don’t see them otherwise.”
Sully met his eye. “Given the nature of this attack, I think I should be able to sense him fairly easily, even if I can’t see him. I can still do what I do as long as I can get a sense of him.”
Ed touched Sully’s arm, drawing his attention back. “There’s something else. I mentioned Kevin is taking things in a different direction. The fact is, he’s wants to capitalize on this at the same time as he’s solving the problem. He’s approached a TV show featuring a group of ghost hunters, and they’re coming out to film.”
Sully hated to ask. He knew of a few shows like that, and a couple of them at least attempted to treat the process and the ghosts themselves with some manner of respect. Not all of them, though. “Which one?”
“Dead Callers.”
Sully grimaced. That was not one of the shows he’d been hoping for.
“I know,” Ed said, reading Sully’s expression. “I feel very much the same. I’ve seen the show. They’re combative and actively try to stir things up. Which is why I’m hoping you’ll agree to something I’m sure you won’t be happy about.”
Sully had a feeling he knew what was coming before Ed asked it.
Ed leaned forward and grasped Sully’s arm. “I’m deeply worried one of the hosts or crew members will be hurt. They’re coming out later this week. Will you come too? Please?”
Ed’s fingers squeezed, revealing desperation. “I was very nearly killed last night, Sully. If this crew stirs things up too badly, I’m terrified someone will die.”
3
One thing Dez appreciated about ghost investigations was that Lachlan tended to leave them to Dez and Sully. While Lachlan appreciated the business, he knew where his skills were best employed—and when Sully’s skillset was what was truly called for.
For Dez’s part, he saw himself as something of a watchdog for Sully. Multiple times, ghosts had been as dangerous for Sully as the living could be. As a former cop himself, Dez’s role was both investigative and protective. He would step in when the situation became too much for Sully to deal with.
Their first step for this investigation was to visit the former prison, located a short distance out of town to the northwest. As the name suggested, Pineview Prison had been built amidst a forest of tall pine trees which seemed to have gradually closed in on the place. Dez recalled driving out here periodically to pick up prisoners for detectives in various policing units. The prison perpetually lay in the shadow of its surroundings, as if light never fully touched the place.
Given the look of the imposing brick-and-stone structure, it seemed fitting.
At some point in its history, a tall brick wall had been erected outside the main building, the yard behind it and the various smaller structures making up the prison complex. The wall had been intended as another barrier to prevent escape, though Dez figured it acted as a disincentive for those on the outside too. Nothing about the place so much as whispered the word “inviting,” and Dez questioned why anyone would pay money to stay here.
“Why would anyone actually pay to stay in a place like this?” Sully asked from the passenger seat as Dez drove them up the half-mile-long lane from the highway to the prison.
Dez grinned. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing. And not only because of the ghosts. What’s the draw to spending the night in a cell?”
“No idea. If it’s a novelty, I don’t get it.”
Dez didn’t pursue the topic. Sully had spent time locked away, not in a prison per se but in a psychiatric hospital. The feel of it would have been roughly the same, only in Sully’s case, he shouldn’t have been in there in the first place.
“I’ve heard some places are more populated with ghosts than others,” Dez said. “Hospitals, for one. Seems to me prisons would be similar.”
Sully scrubbed at his beard. “I’m thinking the same thing. Place this old, it’s bound to have seen its share of suicides and homicides, plus plenty of natural deaths besides. At least some of them would have probably subscribed to Christian ideology about heaven and hell. What you’ve got is a recipe for haunting. I mean, if you thought there was even a remote chance of spending eternity in hell, you’d probably stick with the misery you already knew, right?”
“We’ve talked about it before, but we’ve both learned some new things along the way,” Dez said. “What do you think? Is there actually a hell?”
Sully paused a moment before answering. “I don’t think it looks like what some people believe, with fire and brimstone and endless torture and all that. I don’t know what it is, but there’s got to be some separation with the people who haven’t set out to hurt others. I mean, I know evil exists, maybe even what some people call demons, but I don’t believe it’s ruled by an angry horned devil or anything.” He shrugged. “Then again, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I really don’t know anything.”
Dez smirked. “I’ve waited nearly my whole life to hear you admit it.”
Sully smacked him on the arm.
Unlike his policing days, a large gate in the brick wall had been fixed in the open position, allowing him to skirt the public parking lot and drive straight past the wall without checking in at the now-empty guard station to the left. The main institution stood straight ahead, just the other side of a row of neatly trimmed shrubbery.
If anything, the building was more intimidating than the wall surrounding it. This was every bit a Victorian-era prison, and Dez was reminded why human rights groups had b
een so insistent on the construction of the new facility down the road a couple of miles. Three storeys high with a functional basement as well, the building resembled one of those Gothic-looking structures he’d seen in horror movies. He couldn’t imagine rolling up here in a prisoner transport van, knowing this was to be his new residence. How lifers had gotten through it, he had no idea.
Then again, Dez didn’t exactly have a whole lot of pity for people who did evil things.
The former employee parking lot lay on both sides of the double doors marking the entrance. Several vehicles were here already—likely two belonging to Ed and Kevin and probably one owned by the live-in caretaker Ed had mentioned. Dez wasn’t sure who the fourth one belonged to, but he had a sinking feeling they were about to meet someone connected with the TV show.
Dez pulled into a spot and parked. He shut off the SUV but didn’t make a move to leave.
Sully’s hand gripped the door handle. “What’s up?”
Dez met his eye. “It’s going to be a pain in the ass, trying to investigate this with a reality show crew around. I’m thinking maybe we should try to convince them to shoot another time.”
“Except they probably want to get their filming in before the place is opened to guests.” Sully turned, his eyes moving to the front of the building. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and our paths won’t cross too often.”
Dez shook his head. “Hey, Sull? Think about it. When have you and I ever been that lucky?”
When Dez, followed by Sully, entered through the main door, Ed was waiting.
Ed shook their hands before eyeing them apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’d hoped the two of you could meet privately with Kevin and me, but the producer and co-host of Dead Callers showed up rather unexpectedly to do some location scouting. The good news, I suppose, is they’ve got a small crew. Apparently, the hosts film everything themselves, so you won’t have to worry about twenty-five crew members jostling you for space. But I know this isn’t ideal.”
Sully smiled. “Very little about what we do can be characterized as ideal. Let’s see how it goes, all right?”
As they trailed Ed, Dez leaned down toward Sully. “Wasn’t so long ago the possibility of you ending up in a ghost-related reality show would have been unthinkable.”
“Still is,” Sully said. “Only not in the same way. Just because people know about me now doesn’t mean I’m interested in the whole world getting in on it.”
Where Dez and Sully had entered, the former security station had been converted to a front desk. The barred gates beyond had been permanently rolled open.
Ed pointed right, toward a hall labelled “Administration,” telling Dez and Sully that Pip, their caretaker, made his home in that wing. While Dez had never visited the administration area during his years in policing, he remembered the wing to the left where Ed now led them. What had been interview rooms during the prison days lined the right side, where police and lawyers had met with inmates without needing to go deeper inside the prison.
To the left, a conference room had been converted into offices for Ed and Kevin.
“We converted the interview rooms into museum space,” Ed said. “Each room contains information about various aspects of the prison and its history. We’re using a former administration staff kitchenette and lunchroom farther down the hall for some of our larger exhibits. The guards’ former equipment room and their cafeteria are in the basement. We’re still figuring out what to do with it. But feel free to check out our museum whenever you want.”
Dez smiled despite his zero interest in a museum tour. Any history they needed, he hoped to get from Pip. Sully—like Dez’s wife and daughter—loved history. Dez got a headache just thinking about reading all the tiny print on the cards next to exhibits.
Thankfully, Ed led them to the left instead, inside the office area, which had been converted into three separate rooms—one main reception room and two individual offices with windows looking south and west respectively. From one of them, voices sounded from behind a partially closed door.
“I’d hoped Kevin and I could give you a tour of the building, just the four of us, but it seems Leanna Roberts will be joining us as well. She’s the producer and co-host I mentioned. I hope that’s all right.”
Sully shrugged. “Fine by me, as long as you don’t mind if I wander off from time to time if something shows itself to me.”
“Of course,” Ed said. “As far as I’m concerned, you have full run of the place.” He smiled a little sheepishly. “Are you all right meeting Kevin and Leanna now?”
No didn’t seem to be an option, so Dez nodded.
Ed rapped on the door and pushed it open the rest of the way without awaiting a response. “Kevin, Leanna, sorry to interrupt, but the investigators I hired have arrived.”
“Of course,” Kevin said. “We’ll come out. Not quite enough room in here.” As Ed shifted to the side, Kevin’s eyes landed on Dez and widened. “Definitely not enough room.”
Dez and Sully stepped to the side, allowing Kevin and Leanna to emerge from the office.
Although Kevin Davis was short where Ed was tall, he seemed to have a few pounds on his partner. His hair was shaved down to near the roots, helping to distract from a receding hairline, and he was impeccably dressed in pressed slacks, a pale peach-coloured shirt and an expensive-looking tie. His shoes were nearly shiny enough to burn a retina.
Leanna was similarly on the short side, though she moved was if she were much taller. Like Ed and Kevin, she appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, but she already had pure-silver hair. Dez decided it was probably dyed. Lots of women were doing it these days. She was also well dressed, but in a more casual way, wearing crisp jeans, a fitted leather jacket and biker boots. The outfit accentuated her lean form and made her appear every bit the TV star.
Before introductions were made, her eyes were already sweeping Dez and Sully’s forms. A grin broke out over her face. “Oh, they’ll do nicely.”
“Pardon?” Dez asked.
She gave a little laugh. “I’m sorry. When Kevin told me his partner was hiring private detectives, I’ll admit to being a little bit put off. We don’t often have guests on the show. But the two of you, you’ll make for some very lovely eye candy for our female viewers.”
Dez exchanged a look with Sully.
“Uh, we don’t intend to be guests on anything,” Sully said. “We’re hoping to stay in the background or, better yet, be here on a different night.”
She shook her head. “No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. Once I learned you were being consulted, I looked you up. It seems you have a fascinating gift, Mr. Gray. We’ve had guest psychics on the show before, but no one with your sort of experience.”
Dez didn’t have to look at Sully to sense he was panicking. Dez took a short step forward. “There really seems to be a misunderstanding about why we’re here. We’re not interested in being on television.”
She crossed her arms. “That could be a problem. You see, we’re not coming out until later in the week, and my understanding is Mr. Gray here specializes in helping spirits to cross over. My show’s agreed to shoot here because of the incredibly violent activity described by Kevin. If you rid the prison of any of the spirits ahead of our arrival, we might find ourselves with nothing to film. You see the dilemma?”
Though Sully rarely got angry, Dez sensed he was nearing the point as he shouldered past Dez, inhaling as if to answer.
Kevin stepped forward. “Gentlemen, perhaps we could have a quick word?”
Kevin led the two of them, plus Ed, into a corner of the office lobby, farthest from Leanna. The space wasn’t large, and Dez suspected she’d probably hear nearly everything they said, anyway.
“Please,” Kevin whispered. “I know this can’t possibly be your normal working conditions, but Leanna’s right. If they arrive and nothing happens, there’s a chance they won’t bother filming the whole night or airing the episode. And you must understand,
this is very much a business decision. The show won’t air for at least six months. By then, I’d expect the initial novelty of the place will be worn off. We’ll need to start advertising. Being featured on a show like Dead Callers would be incredible for us. Not only is it free publicity, but it could also attract similar shows or vloggers. And Dead Callers has audiences all over the world thanks to online streaming. We could vastly increase interest among potential visitors or guests.
“Please. The show isn’t coming until the night before we open. Everything has to be perfect for them with all our current ghosts intact. Anyway, maybe it could be good for you too. Think of the additional business it would drum up.”
Sully sighed. “The last time I was on TV because of the ghost stuff, I ended up with all sorts of crazies. This might be ideal for Leanna and her colleagues, but it isn’t for me.”
“He’s right,” Dez said. “You either want this dealt with or you don’t.”
Ed and Kevin eyed each other, and Dez could tell immediately Kevin was unmoved. The worst part was, Dez understood why. They were trying to make things work and launch a new business. It stood to reason being featured on an internationally known show would be a huge feather in their cap.
“Give us a moment, all right?” Kevin said to Dez and Sully before heading with Ed over to Leanna.
The brothers escaped to the hall, where Sully leaned up against the wall with crossed arms.
Dez leaned toward him and spoke quietly. “I totally get where you’re coming from on this. I’m not sold on it either, but I guess I can understand why Kevin’s so desperate for the whole TV thing to work.”
Sully glared at the floor for a long moment before lifting his head. The back of his skull hit the wall with a gentle thud as he heaved a sigh. “Crap. I know. I do too. And we can’t do nothing, right? We both saw those marks on Ed’s neck. We can’t risk that happening to anyone else—including the people filming this show.”
Dez nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen clips of some episodes. The way they try to get ghosts riled up, everyone on the crew could end up in a bad state by the end of the night.”