by Sean Michael
Blaine responded this time, with a shrug. “No. A ghost has to be really strong to actually affect the physical world to that extent. But your ghost has already done a lot, so there’s more likelihood that she’s going to keep on doing stuff. I think the important thing is going to be to figure out why she’s still here and why she’s messing with you.”
“She? How do you know it’s a woman?” Payne thought so too, but he hadn’t said. It made him feel a little stupid.
“It feels like a she.” Blaine blushed softly but didn’t back down. “I wasn’t bullshitting you earlier when I asked about your grandmother. I feel a presence, a female presence. That’s all I have so far, though.”
“She wasn’t evil. She was a little grumpy sometimes, but not mean.” And some of the stuff that had happened—a lot of it—had been mean.
“She might just be trying to get in touch,” Flynn suggested. “And while we’re interpreting her actions as angry, she might not actually be angry. It could be she’s unaware of exactly what she’s doing, or that what she’s doing is all she actually can do. For instance, maybe the push down the stairs was actually an attempt to make contact.”
“You’ve been reading up.” Blaine looked pleased.
Flynn smiled at Blaine, his expression warm. “Yeah, I have.”
“Flynn’s right,” Jason said. “There’s every chance she’s simply trying to communicate and this is the best she can do. If we’ve got an agreement, we’ll figure it out for you.”
The other four nodded at Jason’s words.
“Okay, but please be careful. I’m tapped out as far as reno budget goes.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “You can pay us, yes?”
“You know what, I don’t need this shit.” He stood up, pissed off and a little hurt. These people were supposed to be here to help. “I haven’t slept in days, I’m living in hell, and last time I checked ghostbusters weren’t renovations! Get out.”
”Will!” Jason snapped, glaring at the man.
Will rolled his eyes and stood. “Take it easy, MacGregor—you said your budget was tapped out. I assumed that meant you were out of money, and you’ll pardon me if things are tight enough for us that no cash in any budget means no cash period.”
Jason stood too and put himself between Payne and Will. “We’re very sorry we upset you. I really do think we can help you if you’ll forgive our rough edges. If not, we’ll totally just go.”
“I’ll pay for your gas and your time, but I have enough trouble at the moment without someone wandering around who obviously doesn’t like me. How much do I owe you?” Payne felt like crying. Maybe he would take what he’d saved for this “investigation,” go to a hotel for a few nights, and just sleep.
“You don’t owe us anything, Mr. MacGregor. I’m sorry Will was such an ass. We don’t dislike you at all, and we’d like to help you.” Jason handed him a card. “Please call us when you need us more than you’re upset with us.”
Blaine stopped in front of him next. “Don’t wait too long. There’s a lot of energy here. More than I think your grandmother alone can account for, and it could get dangerous.”
“Yeah, I know.” He’d been living with it for months. “Please see yourself out.”
Payne began to shake, and he took himself toward the kitchen. A cup of tea. That was what he needed. A nice, not-scary cup of tea. He went through the process of filling the kettle, putting it on the stove, and turning on the burner. Then he grabbed a cup before moving to the cupboard with the tea in it. He chose the chamomile, hoping it would help him sleep tonight. Going through the motions of making his tea was soothing in and of itself, and he’d stopped shuddering by the time he had everything set out.
The kettle was almost boiling when he heard footsteps. He tensed, waiting for whatever the ghost had ready for him next, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Jason spoke.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t get out.”
4
Will tried the front door again, but it wouldn’t fucking budge. The handle would turn, but then nothing, not even a hint of movement. Well shit. He did it yet again, knowing that the eighth time was definitely not going to be the charm, but he couldn’t stand there like an idiot and wait for the situation to change. So instead, he was standing there like an idiot, tugging at the door again and again. Good one, Will. He rolled his eyes at himself.
Blaine leaned against the hall wall, arms crossed over his chest, and watched. “We’re not going anywhere. She wants us here.”
“Yeah, well, her grandson doesn’t.” Will glared at the door. Handsome, arrogant MacGregor was a sexy son of a bitch. Wait. What? No. No, the guy was an ass. That was all.
“Why are you so mad at him, man?” Darnell asked. “He’s been nothing but decent to us.”
“You didn’t catch the bit where he practically accused us of being frauds?” Will asked. He wasn’t going to stand for anyone implying that Blaine was a rip-off artist and by extension that the rest of them were too. Every time he thought about MacGregor his blood started to boil. The guy was a class A a-hole.
“No….” Darnell actually blinked. “I didn’t.”
Will growled a little and tried the door again. Still not budging. Whoever the old broad was, she was making damn sure they stayed. And he knew it was a she because unlike certain douchebags, he believed in Blaine. “Well, he did. Making like Blaine didn’t know what he knew from the entity, but from research. Like all we were doing here was trying to defraud him. It’s not like he’s paying us that much.”
And maybe he’d been looking for it, looking for something after the shock he’d gotten when their hands had touched. Looking for a reason to grumble and growl. Still, there was something about the man that pissed him off. Payne MacGregor simply rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t need any reason more than that.
“Then he dismisses us like we’re used tissues, and now his damn house won’t let us out!” Will didn’t understand why the others were so gung ho on this guy. Couldn’t they see what was going on here?
“I did not!” MacGregor’s voice seemed huge, and Will glanced over his shoulder to see that the man himself had arrived with Jason just in time to hear Will’s last comment. “I wasn’t mean!”
“Kind of what it felt like from this end,” he countered.
Jason grabbed his hand and pulled—or rather yanked—him aside. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” He crossed his arms and glared.
“You’re being an ass, man,” Jason hissed. “This isn’t like you at all. The guy is scared and exhausted, for fuck’s sake. Look at him!”
He glared at MacGregor, but then studied him. Payne did look exhausted, the cheeks under the beard drawn and thin, eye bags dark and brutal. Maybe Payne hadn’t been trying to be awful. And now Will felt like an asshole. He sighed and rubbed his face, then held out his hand. “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Will. We’re here to help.”
MacGregor blinked at him, obviously shocked. Had he really been that awful that the guy wouldn’t even shake his hand now?
Will forced himself to keep his hand out, and bit back the angry comment on the tip of his tongue. Instead he said, “I’m just the cameraman and equipment manager, but Blaine here is the real deal.” Come on, take my hand before I decide to really take it personally and start snarling again. This make-nice gesture wasn’t his idea in the first place.
“Hey.” MacGregor shook his hand, and the door popped open like magic.
Okay, that was more than a little spooky. “Christ, I might be just the cameraman, but even I can tell we’re not alone here.” Sure, ghosts were supposed to be spooky, but this seemed fucked up on a deeper level. Almost like Blaine-being-ridden-by-a-ghost deeper.
“I know.” MacGregor looked so fucking lost.
Will realized he and MacGregor were still holding hands, and he let go. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He cleared his throat a few times, then looked at Blaine, at Jason. “We
need any more info, or should we fire everything up and do a tour of the place?” Get moving. Do something other than just stand here by the door. That seemed like a particular waste of time, and if they weren’t going to hunt this ghost, Will wanted out of the house.
“Mr. MacGregor? Should we stay?” Jason asked.
MacGregor looked at Will, and Will stared back, not saying anything. He’d apologized and admitted MacGregor needed their help. It was up to MacGregor to pull the trigger. If the dude didn’t want them here, he’d be the first to throw up his hands, shout hallelujah, and head out the door.
MacGregor drew in a long breath. “Yeah. I’m making tea. Who wants a cup?”
“You have any pop?” Will asked. What he really wanted was a beer, but he could make do. His head was killing him, and he thought some liquid would help.
“I have a few cans in the fridge.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m not a tea kind of guy.” He wasn’t even that into coffee, though he needed a cup or two first thing in the morning, like every other person out there.
Blaine grinned. “I am. And I’ve converted Flynn, so we’ll take you up on your very kind offer. Let your ghost get used to us, though it seems she’s determined to keep us here.”
Payne led them into a gorgeous kitchen. Seriously—granite and stainless steel and tons of light. Will took in the appliances. Everything was brand-new, top of the line. There was room to move around, and the cupboards were all glass fronted so you could see the matching dishes stacked neatly row by row. The order of it appealed to Will, and he loved that it all matched. The cupboards at his apartment had wooden doors so you couldn’t see the mismatched dinnerware inside, which worked for him.
“Nice.”
“I think so. I love to cook, so….” Payne shrugged.
“I bet you do better than pizza every night.” Not that Will didn’t love pizza, because he did. The nights they had Blaine’s mom’s cooking were better, though. Hell, even Blaine and Flynn’s cooking wasn’t bad. Will didn’t cook. He ate a lot of pizza and a lot of cereal.
“I have a pizza oven, but yeah, I don’t do takeout much.” Payne moved around the kitchen like he belonged there, like he knew what he was doing.
“Weird….” Will gave the boys a wink so they knew he wasn’t being an asshole.
MacGregor’s lips thinned, the muscles around them going tight. He even straightened his back some. “Well sure. I’m unique. That’s not bad, right?”
Maybe he’d disliked MacGregor on sight, but this guy seemed to be just as happy to take him wrong too. Will tried not to let it make him growl again. “Not bad. I was just teasing.” Maybe MacGregor didn’t have a sense of humor.
MacGregor paused for a beat then took another breath. “Cool. How many teacups do we need?”
“Four of us, plus yourself,” Jason told MacGregor. Traitor.
“And a soda. Feel free to grab one,” MacGregor offered, pointing at the large stainless-steel fridge. He pulled five pottery cups out of one of the cupboards, along with a box of tea.
Will went over to the sweet fridge and opened it, spotting the pops easily. He grabbed a ginger ale. He probably didn’t need anything with caffeine in it—he was already edgy. “Thanks.” He managed to say it without sounding too gruff. Go him.
Everyone picked the tea they preferred from the box and MacGregor played mother, pouring water into each mug. It was so domestic. Quiet too. And weird. They’d only just met this guy, but they were standing around in the kitchen like it was something they did every evening. It felt almost… unnatural.
A glass fell out of the cupboard, bounced off the counter, and fell to the floor, where it shattered. Will jumped right along with the rest of them. Christ. That hadn’t been a natural accident at all—he was sure of it.
“Oh stop it.” Payne rolled his eyes and headed for a door that turned out to be the broom closet. He grabbed a broom and dustpan.
“Okay, so this has been going on for a long time if that didn’t freak you out.” Will was actually grudgingly impressed.
“There’s a lot that freaks me out, but it’s been throwing things for months.” Payne swept the glass up and threw the shards away.
“Why did you wait so long to call us?” Jason asked. “Just kidding. We know you tried just about everyone else first.”
Ha! He hadn’t been the only one who’d noticed stuff like that. Will was about to say something, but Jason seemed to suddenly realize that he’d been rude all the way around.
Jason shook his head. “God, I’m sorry. We’re not making a very good impression, are we?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know people—groups?—like you really existed. Other than people who were faking it for television, I mean.” MacGregor took a sip of his tea. “It didn’t occur to me to check you out until I started finding reviews that indicated you guys had been dealing with real ghosts, or at least had come across stuff that could be linked back to actual events.”
“Not all those TV guys are faking it. Exaggerating shit, yeah. But not all fake. We aren’t.” Jason grinned. “But it helps if you believe in the first place. And you definitely have an entity here.”
Will had to chuckle. It was a ghost. They all knew that. Besides, he always thought calling it an entity made it sound like maybe they thought there was a demon or something infesting the house. And none of them believed in demons. Right? Right. They were ghost hunters. Not demon chasers. Demons did not need to be real, thank you very much.
“I know. I mean, I just need help with it. We have to live together, right? That’s why I called the psychic. I thought we could communicate.”
“You could have if the psychic had been real,” Blaine noted. “She wants to communicate. That much is clear. And I don’t think she wants you out.”
“Well, I’m happy to….” MacGregor paused, clearly searching for the right words. “I don’t know, reach an agreement.”
“I guess the first step is figuring out what it is she wants—why she’s here.” Blaine sipped his tea, looking around the kitchen. He had that faraway look that usually meant he was seeing something that wasn’t there for the rest of them.
MacGregor watched for a second, then took a few sips of his own tea, wrapping his hands around the cup like he was trying to warm them.
The rest of them observed Blaine, simply waiting for him to come back to them. They were used to this and would only interrupt him if he seemed to be in distress or forgot to breathe. That had happened once, and it had been the scariest fucking thing. Now they were careful not to let it happen again.
Blaine frowned, then shook his head. “She’s not ready to trust us, I don’t think.”
“Well, why don’t we have our tea and then let Mr. MacGregor show us around the place,” Jason suggested. “I imagine we’re going to get pretty familiar with it over the next few days at least.”
“Are you going to want me to leave? I see on the television that’s the way it normally works.”
The kitchen door slammed closed, and they all looked at it.
“Nope,” Blaine murmured. “I don’t think this is going to work without you here.”
“Huh. Okay.” MacGregor sighed and sipped some more of his tea.
“Don’t worry, we don’t usually stay anywhere 24/7, and we’ll only do that here if it looks like it’s necessary.” Jason pulled out the contract again. “I hate to be a nag, but if we’re going to do this, we really need you to sign this.”
“Right.” MacGregor took the tablet, signed it, then handed it back.
“Thanks. We just need to dot all our i’s and cross all our t’s, you know?” Jason hit the button to turn the tablet off, and Will knew he was pleased to have all the paperwork completed.
“Sure. That makes sense.” MacGregor leaned against the counter with his shoulders hunched and his head bent over his cup.
Will couldn’t believe how defeated, how tired, MacGregor seemed.
“You’ve signed us up for
the job now, MacGregor. We’ll get things figured out, and you’ll see—you’ll be back to normal in no time.” Will had faith in their little team.
“Never fear, the Supers are here,” Jason added, chuckling.
MacGregor smiled at them, but the look was worried, tentative rather than relieved. “Right on.”
“So how long have you been living here?” Flynn asked as they stood around the kitchen with their tea and pop.
“Just a few months. I had to do a lot to make it livable.”
“How long have you been working to make it livable?” Flynn pressed.
Payne smiled. “A little over two years.”
“A labor of love, then. So when did the weird stuff start?”
“Like I said, it was pretty early. I mean, there’s no way to know for sure, especially as I wasn’t living here yet. And at first I thought it was just coincidence or bad workers or… I don’t know. Bad luck?”
“Yeah, I can see that. Did you believe in ghosts before any of this started happening?” Blaine asked.
“I hadn’t really thought too much about it, if I’m honest. My experience with ghosts was directing people to Stephen King and Dan Simmons.”
“And when did you decide what was happening wasn’t bad luck but maybe something supernatural?” Blaine finished his tea and put the cup down on the table.
MacGregor sighed. “The worker being pushed down the stairs was the first time. Then I started sleeping here. It seems like everything went crazy then.”
“Did you feel threatened? Do you have any inkling why the presence is here?”
Will studied MacGregor as Jason went through all his questions, wondering if anyone else felt the way the room was growing slowly colder. He didn’t know what it meant, but it definitely wasn’t natural, and it seemed to link to whatever was going on here.
“I just felt… like someone was always watching, like there was always pressure.” MacGregor shrugged. “Sometimes it felt almost nice. Other times it was… not comfortable.”
“Pressure? Was it directing you in a certain direction? Like, did you feel you had to do something—general or specific?” Blaine seemed to have an endless supply of questions, but Will knew he was just gathering as much information as he could. They usually didn’t have someone who’d been living with the ghost when they explored a haunted place.