"Great!" I say, growing excited at the possibility of money coming in. "I'll call right away."
CHAPTER FOUR
On the way home, as I’m nearing my apartment, I stop at the nearby grocery store and pick up some champagne and cheesecake to celebrate with. As I’m checking out, I call Lilly and tell her the good news.
"You took the job?" she shrieks. "That's great.”
"Yeah, it is. Devon offered me a lot of money. Plus, who knows, maybe if I do a good job, I'll become the Hollywood go-to ghostbuster. Then they can do a series about me!"
"Yeah, like 'Medium'," Lilly says. “Only in your case it'll be 'large'. Ha ha."
"Ha ha," I say in a snarky tone. "Come on, Lilly, it's just five pounds."
"Yeah. I know. It happens. You get into a relationship and the weight piles on."
"Five pounds!" I repeat. “Though I guess that was on top of the other five-ish…that I already needed to lose.”
I hear Lilly snort on the other end of the line.
"Anyway. I'm heading home. But thanks for getting me the job, Lilly. Even though I’m a total fraud and I know nothing about ghosts or ghost-hunting, it pays really well and I totally need the work. So I owe you. I'll talk to you later."
“You sure do,” she says, and we both hang up. Then I get into my car and head home.
Inside my bungalow, I bend down to pet Trevor who's bounding and jumping and wiggling around in happiness at my return. I put my purse down and snuggle with him for a few minutes, then I go over and open my window.
"Hey!" I call out to my neighbor’s bungalow.
My adorable neighbor, whose name I finally learned (Gabriel) comes to his window. "Hey yourself," he says in his low, tingle-inducing voice. "You're home."
"Yup. And I have some big news. Well, medium news, I guess. I got a job! As a medium, ironically."
He frowns. His head disappears inside and a few moments later he's at my door.
"Hi," I say, my voice going soft and happy as soon as I see his face. He steps towards me and pulls me close. We kiss. I run my hand through his straight, chestnut brown hair and look into his dark blue eyes. I'm still in disbelief at how cute he is. And at how he's mine to kiss.
At least for now anyway.
I'm pretty sure that soon, he'll realize he's slumming it with me and go back to dating supermodels, but for now I'm happy with him and am trying my best not to let my insecurities get the better of our relationship.
"So what's this new job?" he says, coming in and taking a seat at the dining table. He's followed into the room by his dog (Buster) and my dog Trevor, who have achieved a fragile peace, though they are still competitive and jealous of each other.
"Ghost hunting," I say, taking the chair next to him. "For a movie shoot.”
"Seriously?" He looks at me, frowning.
"Yup,” I nod. “Believe it or not, they came to me. I just wanted to sell the director a script but he's more interested in using me for my ghost-hunting skills. So who am I to turn down enough money to pay my rent for three months?"
I take Gabriel’s hand and wrap it around mine. "Anyway, I just went and met with the director and told him I felt the presence of a ghost and so now I have a week to get rid of it. Or him, I guess - the ghost. That's the deal."
"The deal? But it's a con."
"No it’s not. I mean…it's not exactly a con. I mean it’s like..."
"What are you, Arden? A carny?"
"No!" I say, pulling back, hurt. "You don't understand. I'm just doing this because they really want me to. I’ll just do all the ghost-hunty stuff, like they do on TV and then I’ll tell them that their ghost is gone. And they'll be happy and they'll be able to get back to work and I'll be happy because I’m making some money and everything will be ship shape."
"But you're taking advantage of people," Gabriel says, his gorgeous face on the verge of anger. Which oddly enough, only makes him even cuter.
"No I'm not! I mean who's to say they don't have a ghost. I have a ghost! Or…I had a ghost. I don’t talk about it much but I’m pretty sure I had a real ghost. And look at it this way. If it is just some kind of psychological self-fulfilling prophecy, where they think the ship is haunted, and that in turn is making these accidents happen...then I'll be helping them with that too. Like being sort of a therapist. And anyway, if I don't do it, they'll just hire someone else."
Gabriel looks at me, obviously not falling for any of my rationalizations. He shakes his head then he gets up and says, “I gotta get back to work.” He leaves without saying another word. Following him out is Buster, much to my unhappiness and Trevor's joy.
"Okay, well that went well," I say to Trevor as I get up and go into the kitchen. Trevor immediately appears at me feet and I reach into his treat box and throw him a few sausage treats. At least one of us can celebrate.
I sigh as I watch him gobble them up. I just can’t help but feel surprised at how angry Gabriel is over this.
Is it really so wrong of me to accept this job? Am I really taking advantage of people?
It's such a weird question as I'm usually the taken-advantagee not the taken-advantager.
But maybe I was so desperate to make the money that I lost my moral compass. Or at least wandered a few degrees off it.
I decide that Gabriel is probably right and I should probably turn down the job. But as I go into the living room and reach for my phone and start to dial, the ghost recorder app that I'd installed on my phone opens up…all on its own.
Oooeeeeoooooo.....
I can almost hear the spooky Twilight Zone music in my head.
Though actually, it’s not really so weird. I always have these apps on my phone that open on their own. Along with face-dialing and cheek-dialing and purse-dialing I also get air dialing and air-solitaire playing. Now apparently, I also get air-ghost recording.
Great.
I'm about to close the app when I hear the recording I made on the yacht start to play.
"Are you here?" I hear myself calling out on the recording. And even to my own ears I sound like a moron.
Of course there’s no ghostly response. Just static.
"Hellooo!” I call out. “I sense someone here. Are you here?"
I can’t take how stupid I sound and am about to close down the app, when I hear a scratching noise coming from the phone. I tell myself it's just static, but something about it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I freeze, listening to the recording as...emerging from the static, I hear what sounds like a voice saying the word. “Yessss.”
My breath catches in my throat. I stare at my phone.
Did I just imagine that? That someone answered my question in a ghostly voice?
I'm about to stop the tape and play it back, when the recording continues and I again hear my own voice, calling out, "What is it you want? I'm here to help you get home. Just tell me what you want..."
There is no response, just empty static.
Whew, that’s a relief.
I take a deep breath and tell myself that I just imagined that other voice – thank goodness – when all of a sudden the hissing noise grows louder. Then a low, scratchy voice emerges from the static. It whispers, "I want to...to kill youuuuu.”
CHAPTER FIVE
"Aah!"
I scream and drop my phone. It bounces off the sharp edge of my coffee table and crashes to the floor. Trevor looks up at me with a surprisingly calm expression on his face as he gets up from his pillow and goes over to sniff the broken pieces of my expensive smartphone.
Somehow, in my fear, I’ve run over to my front door without even realizing it. Catching myself, I pause in the doorway wondering where exactly I'm running to. If it really is a ghost who wants me dead, then there’s really nowhere to hide, is there?
But was it a ghost?
I close the door again, as I try to catch my breath.
And if wasn't a ghost, then just what on earth was it??
Terr
ified, I look back down at my ruined phone. Then I immediately go over to Gabriel’s to tell him what just happened. But as soon as I bring up the word 'ghost' he says he doesn't want to hear any more and has to get back to work.
Boy is he sensitive to ghost-stuff.
I'm not sure why – and to tell the truth, it’s a little surprising, since he’s usually a pretty laid back kind of guy. But it doesn't seem like I'm going to find out what his issue is, as the entire topic now appears to be taboo.
I head home, feeling bad that Gabriel is so against this. Though I do think he's overreacting a bit. But as I walk up my front steps I realize that it doesn’t really matter anyway, since at this point, I'm pretty sure I’m dropping the whole ghost thing anyway – thanks to the whole ghost-wanting-me-dead thing.
Which is so ironic – I mean, now that I really wouldn't be faking it, I absolutely can't do the ghost-hunting stuff because I'm way too scared. And now that I'm not doing it, I can't even tell Gabriel that I’m not – because he's too angry at me for doing it.
It seems like I can't win for losing so I go back over my place and decide to eat my feelings away. I head into the kitchen and cut a huge slice of cheesecake. Then I make myself a cup of hot tea and I sit down at my computer to find the email address for Devin Wade. I write him a message telling him that I changed my mind, that I don't want the ghost hunting job after all and I hit ‘send’.
Oh...how I hate irony.
CHAPTER SIX
Devon writes me back almost immediately asking why I’m backing out and I tell him that I think he is dealing with a very dangerous ghost.
He writes me back saying that he had his assistant do some research on the boat and he's forwarding the info to me. Then he offers to double my salary if I change my mind and agree to help him.
DOUBLE?
I don't write back right away. After all, that's a huge amount of money. For me anyway.
For established Hollywood types it's probably nothing. A drop in the bucket. Petty cash. A weekend in Paris. But for me...I could quit my temping job for half a year and do nothing but write.
I am so tempted to do it.
On the other hand, there is that murderous ghost to consider.
I click on the link that Devon sent and open the pages of research that his assistant found. My heart falls as I read the title: The Andrea Claire's Bloody History. And if that's not bad enough, there’s page after page detailing the horrible history of the boat.
It seems that the Andrea Claire was originally built by a very wealthy man named Ted Sterling. Mr. Sterling took his daughter to visit the boat as it was being built, and she wound up dying in a freak explosion. After that, Sterling was so distraught, he went a little nuts and claimed the yacht itself was evil.
In order to rid the world of its dark power, he took the boat out himself and tried to run it aground on a rocky shore. But before he could, a storm came up and he ended up being thrown overboard. Sterling drowned, while the Andrea Claire, now a ghost ship, sailed into harbor on its own, none the worse for wear.
After that, the boat was stuck in a salvage yard for years until the Baker family bought it and had it refitted.
They were sailing on their maiden voyage to Mexico when their chapter of the boat’s bloody history took place. On board was the boat’s captain along with Mr. and Mrs. Baker, their thirteen-year-old son, Hugh, their teenaged daughter, Wendy, and her friend, Anabella Klee.
On their second day at sea, they stopped to pick up a stranded boater who claimed that his sailboat had capsized. He was floating on a raft, wearing only a torn shirt, ripped jeans and a life jacket. He had long blonde hair and was about 25 years old.
The family agreed to drop the mysterious stranger off at the closest port. But they never arrived. Friends of the Baker family grew concerned and called the coast guard to search for them but no one could find any trace of the Andrea Claire.
They did, however, find the young son, Hugh, floating on a life raft, injured and catatonic, several days later. It wasn't until a few days after that that the Andrea Claire floated to shore on her own--a ghost ship with no one at the helm and almost everyone on board dead.
The only survivors were the teenaged friend, Annabella Klee, who had a stab wound on her shoulder and no memory of what happened. And Duke, the rescued castaway who was near death himself. He was drifting in and out of consciousness saying, “I’m going to kill you. KILL YOU!!”
He died before they could carry him off the boat.
All of the members of the Baker family, except for the son, were dead – they’d been murdered by Duke, each in a particularly bloody fashion.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wow horrible story, I think as I take a sip of my tea and stare at the computer screen. I feel particularly upset about the dying drifter saying, “I’m going to kill you.” Since that's exactly what he said to me.
I decide there’s absolutely no way I can take this job. But just then I get another email from Devon asking me to meet him on the boat, so we can talk in person. I'm about to write him back and tell him we don’t need to bother, but then he mentions that Buck and the rest of the cast will be there.
Though I'm not eager to go anywhere near that boat or Mr. 'kill you' guy, I am tempted to meet the famous actor Buck Ames, who is something like a cuter, younger Brad Pitt.
Not that I'm interested in him, mind you. But seriously, who knows? Maybe I could pitch him my script.
In any case, I decide that I owe it to Devon to talk to him in person and tell him that there's no way I want to be involved in any of this. So I call Trevor into the car, and am about to head out. But before I leave, I look over at Gabriel's bungalow and just sit there, staring.
“Wait here, Trev,” I say, as I get back out of the car and go over to Gabriel’s place and knock. I know he was angry at me earlier, so I want to tell him ASAP that I'm turning down the job. But unfortunately he doesn't answer my knock. Or my ring. Or my knocking again.
I also don't hear Buster barking inside, which suggests that he's not home, which likewise suggests that Gabriel isn't home.
I check my watch, thinking they must have gone for a late-night run. I feel hurt. Gabriel usually asks me if I'd like to go with him. Granted I always say no. But still, it would have been nice of him to ask.
I shrug and again tell myself not to overreact as I get into my car and head out to the movie set.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When I arrive at the pier I see a bunch of picnic tables set up outside, under an awning. There are lots of cast and crew members, sitting around, eating and talking. I spot a craft service table under the edge of the tent with lots of different snacks and bottled drinks on it, as well as a big coffee and tea urn.
As I go over to grab a bottle of water, I see a catering truck on the other side of the parking lot that appears to be setting up for lunch – if 'lunch' is actually the right word for a midnight meal. However, I know from my one experience working on a movie crew that 'lunch' is the break that you take on a film set after five or six hours of work, no matter what time it may be.
I squint my eyes and scan the tables for Devon Ward, the director, but I don't see him. I do however see Buck Ames, glowing like a blond Adonis as he sits amongst a group of guys. He's deep in conversation, motioning with his hands as he talks. Then he sits back with a smile and the guys all roar with laughter.
Hmn, so he's just as funny and personable as he is gorgeous. Be still my heart.
Unable to take my eyes off of him, I watch as he pushes himself up and away from the table and tosses his paper plate into the trash. Then he heads in my direction, moving like an athletically graceful panther.
Wow... he's tall too.
I mean he looks tall in movies but you never can tell.
As he passes me, he gives me a charmingly sexy wink and I nearly pass out.
"Arden?"
I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin around. It's the director, Devon.
"Oh, hi," I say, holding my hand to my wildly beating heart. "Hi Devon."
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I nod, trying to catch my breath. And to cover my star-struckness.
"There is a definite energy in this area," I say. "This whole area.” I motion towards the boat and all around us.
"Wow." He nods and starts walking towards the boat’s ramp. "Follow me."
My eyes are still scanning the area to see where my new crush, Buck Ames, went. My guess is he headed into one of the many large trailers that are lined up along the far end of the parking lot.
I pull my eyes away and follow Devon toward the yacht, even though it's the last place I want to be. But I'm so distracted by my brush with fame that I blindly follow along.
"So please tell me you changed your mind," Devon says, glancing at me. "You're going to help us get rid of our ghost, right?"
"I can't," I say, but just then, we're interrupted by a guy with frizzy hair who stops Devon to ask him a question about lens filters.
They confer for a few moments then we head up onto the boat, and down the long spooky hallway. We wind up in the room at the far end of the hall, back in the master stateroom.
To my utter surprise I see Buck sitting on the sofa, talking to a sandy haired guy with glasses, who's sucking on the end of a pen. They have a marked-up, scribbled-on, doodled-on script in front of them and they're conferring over a page of dialog.
"Oh, hey, have you met Buck? Our star?" Devon says to me.
I shake my head ‘no’, dumbstruck once more. And by dumb, I don't mean quiet. I mean I am in a state of feebleminded, babbling idiocy.
"Uh...hi. No, uh we met. I mean yes, no we didn't. Hi.”
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