She gave Rosie the phone. “Here. You do it. I don’t know how.”
Rosie’s thumbs flew across the screen in a blur. “Done. Now, did you eat anything?”
“Yes, some plain oatmeal from the hotel breakfast.”
“The hotel didn’t have any plain. I checked. I figured you’d refuse to eat anything on their buffet and show up here exhausted and starving.”
“Maybe they brought some out after you left.”
“Nope. I checked. I even made the busboy look in the kitchen. They don’t keep plain. No one eats it. I have some yogurt and berries in your trailer.”
“I . . . well . . . I . . .”
Sterling breezed into the living room, chipper and smiling. “Morning, everyone. Someone found that kitten a home yet?”
Rosie watched him breeze past. “He must roll out of bed looking like that every day.”
“Please. He hasn’t spent the last several years sleepless.” Kimberly watched him chat with Elise, who perked up and giggled at whatever he said. “Make sure I look at least that good before we tape tonight. Allow extra time for makeup.”
Michael pulled his headphones off and broke away from the equipment at the table. “How are you this morning, doll?”
“Been better, been worse. How’s the footage? Please tell me we got something.”
“Nothing earth-shattering yet. But we just got started.”
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s RandMeier. Give me a minute.” He took a deep breath. “Good morning, Mr. Hoffmeier. I’m . . . yes, things are going very well. They’re working great together.” He frowned. “What video?”
She froze. RandMeier already saw the video? And called midmorning to discuss it? She should’ve gone with her original plan to distance herself and let Sterling take the heat. Maybe even get fired.
“No . . . no, I didn’t . . . okay. Oh, I’ll get to the bottom of it. Of course. Yes, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
He tucked his phone into his pocket.
She attempted to soothe her facial features into innocence. “What was that about? Just checking on us? Did I hear you say ‘video’?”
“You’re a terrible liar, Kimmy. Always have been. Spill.”
She slumped. “It was Mr. Wakefield. He asked TJ to record us and had Rosie mike him and then he acted weird and started an argument about calling me Kimmy. It’s all a publicity stunt.”
Sterling appeared and propped his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, partner. Mr. Wakefield is my dad. Call me Sterling. You guys discussing our video?”
She shrugged him off. “Your video. I had nothing to do with it.”
“You must’ve had something to do with it,” Michael said. “You’ve apparently retweeted it.”
“Well, yeah . . . just now. But Mr. Wakefield made me. At breakfast this morning he told me I had to retweet it or . . . or he’d . . .” The cogs in her brain spun, but she couldn’t think of a plausible threat.
“Yep.” Sterling rolled his eyes. “Absolutely what happened. I held a refined white bagel to her side and told her to retweet my video or I’d force-feed her bacon. I’m a monster!” He covered his face in mock shame.
She whirled on him. “That’s not funny—”
“Just stop.” Michael held up a hand. “You both clearly knew about it, and you’ve put me in a terrible position. I knew nothing about this. I sounded like a fool to RandMeier.”
Rosie joined the bickering group, her phone in hand. “Look how many views since you retweeted, Kimberly.”
Sterling snatched the phone. “We’ve hit a hundred and fifty thousand! Yes.” He pumped his fist. “You retweeted it, too?”
Rosie seemed to melt in the heat from his smile. “Of course.”
“Apparently everyone is retweeting it,” Michael interrupted, “and RandMeier wants to know who approved the leak. He’s quite concerned you two are ‘spending time alone’ in your trailer. What is that about?”
Rosie choked on her coffee. Sterling shuffled his feet.
Kimberly’s cheeks flushed. “We weren’t alone, Michael. He only said that to pique interest. The whole video is nonsense—”
Michael held up a hand. “All I know is, RandMeier wanted drama—”
“Most of that video is us arguing,” Sterling said.
“And you two are talking about being alone in your trailer. Which sounds like you’re getting cozy.”
“That was all her.” Sterling pointed at her.
“What? That’s ludicrous.”
“I set up the arguing bit, but she started talking about us in the trailer.”
“You twisted what I said. Michael, I never suggested we were alone—”
“And you have a girlfriend.” Michael raised his eyebrows at Sterling. “A very well-known fact.”
“Not anymore. Kimberly convinced me to dump her.”
Michael’s and Rosie’s heads both swiveled toward her, eyes wide, jaws slack.
“Not like that. Not because I . . . you don’t understand the whole story. Sterling, tell them it’s not like that.”
Sterling’s phone rang. “Oops. It’s Amber. She must’ve listened to my message.”
“Your message? You broke up with her via voice mail?” Kimberly shook her head. What an ass.
Rosie stepped closer. “You’re really unattached again?”
Kimberly whirled on her stylist. “Rosie, please focus.” Why, why, why did she agree to cooperate with his scheme? And why didn’t she wait until later to post that damned video? Then she could’ve honestly feigned ignorance, and no one could have proved otherwise.
Sterling stared at his phone. “I can’t talk to her. She’ll be upset, won’t she?”
“Probably. So what did you do? Call her in the fifteen minutes it took to get here from the hotel?”
“You said it was important. That she’s dangerous.” He pocketed the phone. “Well, I missed the call. Just as well.”
“You call her back right now.” She tugged at his arm. “Man up and do the right thing. If you’re not going to tell her to her face, at least call back.”
Michael turned toward the front door, then grabbed both their arms. “Sorry, this will have to wait. The family just arrived. Put on your biggest smiles.” He took a deep breath, followed his own directions, and moved to greet Danielle and her kids. “Good morning! How did everyone sleep?”
“Rosie—”
“Black tea.” Her assistant started toward the trailer, then spun on her heel and placed a hand on each side of Kimberly’s face. After twisting her head side to side and peering into her eyes, Rosie continued. “With mint. And lavender spray. And your hematite crystal.”
Sterling watched her scurry out the door, raising a hand to wave good-bye. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Don’t need anything. Probably just triggered the rage of a gold-digging psychopath. But I’m good. Really.”
“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Amber’s at work. You’re at work. No chance you’ll see each other until this weekend.” When you won’t be my problem anymore. “Relax.”
“Ms. Wantland?” Danielle hurried to her side. “What happened last night?”
“We are still reviewing footage. But we made good progress.”
“But Felix is still here?”
“Clearing an entity takes time. And finding the root cause of the manifestation is necessary before we can clear it. I made a connection last night. That’s the place to start.”
“We’ll know more in a few hours,” Michael said. “You can go back to the hotel or take the boys to the park—”
“Drew needs his toys. And Josh needs his crib. He barely slept last night. Which means none of us slept last night. Poor Stephen. I dropped him off at work late. He looked terrible. I really hope you get rid of Felix soon. We need our house back.” The young mother bounced the infant in her arms. The toddler stood beside her, two fingers stuffed in his mouth. He rubbed at his eyes with his other hand.
Sterling stepped
forward. “Nothing to worry about. I’m positive I found the source of your disturbance.”
Danielle narrowed her eyes. “You did?”
Michael draped an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you settle the boys and let us complete our review. Then we can discuss it.”
“Maybe all three of you can nap,” she suggested. The last thing she needed was two wailing kids while she and the crew listened to sensitive recordings.
“Would that be okay?” Danielle asked, relief in her voice.
“Absolutely.” Michael steered her to the bedroom.
“Come with Mommy, Drew.” The exhausted mother took the little boy’s hand and allowed Michael to lead her away.
“Hey, TJ.” Sterling beckoned to the young cameraman. They huddled on the other side of the room, voices low.
Great. Plotting again. Just what I don’t need.
She joined her crew at the dining table. “Anything yet?” Please.
Elise spoke first. “I haven’t found anything to indicate previous paranormal activity. No significant pet tragedies reported in local newspapers, but that’s not surprising since—”
“Danielle recognizes Felix from her past.”
“Right. Previous occupants were an older couple. The wife died peacefully in her sleep. The husband fell into depression after losing her. Best I can tell, a younger brother moved him out of state and placed him in an excellent facility near his home. So he could be close. But he didn’t last long without his wife.”
“Did their kids sell the house? Maybe we can ask them about prior disturbances. See if their parents ever talked about strange things happening on the property.”
“I’ll work on that and let you know what I learn.”
Rosie returned from the trailer with a mug of hot tea.
Kimberly held it to her face and inhaled the mint vapor. “Perfect. Thank you.” She sipped the soothing liquid, relishing the radiating warmth. “Better already.”
“Here. Let me put your hematite on. It’ll help calm and ground you.”
She lifted her hair and allowed Rosie to drape the necklace around her and clasp the chain.
“There,” Rosie said. “Breathe deep.”
“Okay, Kimmy, they’re settled in the bedroom.” Michael motioned her to the table to continue footage review. “Let’s see what we can see, shall we?” He took his seat and snapped headphones over his ears.
15
Kimberly stood behind Michael, watching the footage from the main camera.
TJ returned to his laptop, placing his camera nearby. Odd. He wouldn’t need to record anything until later tonight.
She eyed Sterling. He merely smiled. Definitely up to something.
“Here, Kimmy. This is during the EVP yarn session.”
She bent low for a better look.
“Here’s where the yarn moves.” He handed her the headphones. “Do you hear that?”
She pressed her hands to the headphones and closed her eyes. She heard her own voice, then in the silent interim, a soft susurrus.
She leaned forward. “Was that . . . ?”
“I’ll run it back and isolate it. Watch the screen this time.”
She kept her gaze on the gray-scale images. Just as the yarn twitched, she heard it again.
Michael rewound and played it several times. “What do you think?”
“It’s faint, but without question it sounds like a cat’s meow.”
He nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
She couldn’t help but smile. Finally they were getting somewhere. The crew returned to their own tasks looking reinvigorated. She allowed a glance at Sterling—his chin was propped on his fist, boredom etched in his features.
“Don’t give me that triumphant look. One fuzzy sound distortion doesn’t offer a shred of proof,” he said.
“All the little pieces create the larger image. I’ve done this for years. We’ve seen it over and over.”
Michael took his headphones back. “I’ve only listened up to this point. We left the camera and recorder running all night. So I may find more.”
She patted his back. Sterling rolled his eyes.
“Ms. Wantland.” TJ waved her over. “I think you should look at this.”
She maneuvered around the dining table to join the young man at his screen. “You know how I thought we saw an image of a cat, like, rising up on the little guy’s bed? Watch this. I found more images like it throughout the night.”
He clicked from one still-frame image to the next, each time capturing a similar red haze in the bedrooms.
She watched, fascinated, then beckoned to Michael. “Look at this. It almost looks like the cat is patrolling. Maybe searching. Look how it keeps going from one bedroom to the other and stretching up on the beds. Peering over the sides. Like it’s looking for the family. And it keeps returning to the crib.”
“It, like, gets in the crib at one point.” TJ pulled up the image for her.
Michael’s brow furrowed. “I see it. I think you’re right. The cat seems to be looking for the family. That image in the crib makes my skin crawl. Can you imagine if the baby was in there?”
She remembered her vision and shuddered. How could she determine what the cat wanted? And if she couldn’t, how could she get it to leave?
Sterling snorted. “More hazy blobs? That doesn’t look anything like a cat to me.”
TJ glanced at the kitchen and picked up his camera.
“I’m telling you,” Sterling continued, “those red images could be anything. Or nothing. And may I remind you that I found Felix in the backyard last night?”
“What?” Danielle stood in the kitchen doorway. “What do you mean you found Felix?”
“Why don’t you go ahead and show her, Michael?”
Michael moved back to his computer and fast-forwarded to the end of the footage. Danielle watched Sterling walk in the back door with the kitten in his hands, proclaiming to have found Felix.
The young woman whirled on him, eyes blazing. “How dare you? Did you not even look at Drew’s picture? That kitten looks nothing like Felix. I knew you would ruin this for me.”
All at once, Danielle collapsed onto Kimberly’s shoulder, tears soaking her blouse. She raised a hand and hesitantly patted the distraught woman on the back. “It’s okay. I know that isn’t Felix. He hasn’t ruined anything.”
Danielle raised her watery, bloodshot eyes. “Really?”
“Of course. I told you I connected with Felix last night. Felt his presence. I know he’s here. Sterling just found a kitten. And I think, deep down, he knows that.” She locked gazes with Sterling. He’d better cooperate. “I think he’s just trying to be very . . . thorough. To make sure we explore every possibility. So when doubters watch the show, they’ll see he did his best to disprove supernatural activity.” The words came out of her mouth slowly, pieced together. Anything to soothe the woman.
Rosie tucked a tissue into her hand, which she passed on to Danielle. “There you go. No need to worry. Right, Sterling?”
Sterling started. “Right. I’m just being thorough. After all, that’s why I’m here. To rule things out. And to keep Kimberly honest.” He smiled.
Danielle blotted her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired.” Her voice quivered. “We haven’t slept well since the apparitions began. And Josh didn’t sleep at the hotel last night. I hoped we wouldn’t have to go back there anymore.”
Michael stepped forward and guided the woman gently from the kitchen. “Why don’t you rest now while the baby is asleep? Let us handle this.”
“I’m sure Josh will wake up and need to nurse soon. Maybe later I can lie down. If I can rest at all, wondering what you guys might find. And if Kimberly can get rid of it.”
She heard Michael’s reassuring murmur as he led her down the hall. After they left, the crew exchanged glances.
“This is why we do what we do, guys,” she said. “Let’s see if we can wrap this up tonight. This family needs u
s.”
“Oh, please,” Sterling crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you persist in offering people false hope?”
She felt her irritation surge. “What are you talking about?”
“Encouraging this, letting them believe there’s a ‘ghost’ in their house, and that you can somehow make it all better. It’s disgusting, really.”
“I can’t wait to see your face the first time you encounter an entity. Come talk to me then, Mr. Wakefield.”
Sterling signaled TJ, who lowered his camera.
“Seriously? Again? Your first idiotic video got us in all kinds of trouble.”
“No, it attracted lots of attention. Now we keep hitting them with more. Keep stirring the pot. This time I’ll tell Michael first and let him go to Hoffmeier with it. And would you please call me Sterling? Mr. Wakefield sounds like a stuffed shirt.”
Stan motioned for her. “I think you need to see this, Kimberly.”
She knew him well enough to recognize his serious voice. She bent over his computer screen for a better look.
“I noticed this a couple of times and didn’t think anything of it. It’s easy to dismiss, just a dark spot. But it’s always the same. So I took a closer look.” He flipped through several images he isolated from the footage. Like the cat, the image drifted from room to room throughout the night.
She pulled an empty chair beside Stan’s and dropped into it. He’d captured the dark image she’d seen in the toddler’s room. The form was not as clear as the cat’s. “I saw this last night. Felt it. But couldn’t establish a connection. It avoided me. Didn’t seem to want me near it and felt very unsettled.”
“What is it?” Michael leaned across the table for a look at Stan’s screen. Sterling came around the table for a look, too.
Stan flipped back to the images. The entity hovered primarily between the toddler’s room and the master bedroom.
“It’s a dark spot. Nothing,” Sterling said.
“If I saw the image only once, I’d dismiss it, too,” Stan said. “But not when it appears throughout the night and in different rooms.”
Sterling leaned closer as Stan looped through all the images again.
“And watch this. Here’s where Kimberly connected with the cat and tried to engage the other entity. Watch how it reacts.”
The Wantland Files Page 9