by Nathan Roden
“This is highly irregular, Sir. We have done nothing—”
“That will be all, Mr. Lynchburg,” the sergeant said. He turned to leave. “You’ll be here in the morning?”
“Of course,” Q said.
“We’ll see you then,” The Fire Marshal said.
Twenty-seven
Wylie Westerhouse
Branson, Missouri
Pandemonium.
Sheer pandemonium.
It seems that nothing spreads faster than news of a haunted Scottish castle—just weeks before Halloween.
The hotels are full. The RV parks are full. I’ve seen broadcast vehicles from several different television networks, including the Sci-Fi channel. From what I’ve seen so far, Roswell, New Mexico, Salem, Massachusetts, and Area 51 lost a lot of their populations last night.
I showed up at the castle at about five-thirty Saturday morning. I had to park a couple of streets away and sneak past the solid lines of parked cars that had taken over the curbs.
Quentin was already there. He was recording a message for our answering machine, stating that we would re-open as soon as we were allowed to. All twelve lights on the switchboard had been flashing since yesterday.
Quentin looked rough. He’d had almost no sleep, and little opportunity to recover from his party thanks to last night’s events. The day held little promise for change and the sun hadn’t even come up yet.
“I found three letters outside my front door this morning—from homeowners that border the golf course,” he said. “They are complaining about the traffic, and the noise, and the people walking the streets at all hours. All three expressed their intention to assemble a neighborhood group to petition for stricter zoning laws. I have an email from T. Bartlett Homes, Inc. requesting a meeting for Tuesday morning. A couple of their representatives are flying in from Canada.”
“What can they do?” I asked. “The construction was completed according to existing law. You should fall under a ‘grandfather’ clause, right?”
“That is probably true, but it’s still a gamble,” Q said. “All it takes is pressure applied by a unified and motivated group of people who have time and money. That turns it into a political issue. Politicians don’t like being backed into a corner, especially when they’re worried about re-election. Welcome to Democracy in Action.”
“So what do we do in the meantime?” Holly asked.
Q shrugged.
“All we can do today is cooperate while the fire department finishes their inspection,” he said, “We’re going to have police controlling traffic. I suppose you’re both aware that the town has been overrun with ‘Ghost Fever” in the last ten hours?”
“Yeah, it’s all over the radio. You know what? This could be a different approach, Q,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Q said.
“You could turn this place into a luxury hotel for the Ghost-Chasers. You already have a running start, and that’s in less than one day. I bet you could make your money back in a couple of years even if nothing else ‘spooky’ happens.”
Q shrugged. Holly bolted to her feet.
“Have you lost your bloody mind? You can’t do that!”
Her intensity caught me by surprise.
“Hey, I’m just thinking out loud, all right?” I said. “What if there’s no choice, Holly? Are we supposed to stand around and watch a bunch of businessmen and politicians force Quentin to take the castle down?”
“They can’t go that far,” Q said. “All they can do is make me meet the residential standards. The walls would have to be lowered and the turret tower would have to go.”
“You can’t do that!” Holly screamed.
Q and I shot glances at each other.
“Holly, this is just brainstorming,” Q said. “I’m making no concessions until I have to. I have every intention of fighting on every front. It just so happens that… there are a lot of fronts.”
Holly covered her face with her hands, and then pulled them down to below her eyes. Her breathing slowed, and she returned to her chair.
“I’m going to sneak out of here for a while,” Q said. “I have to have some sleep before we deal with this.”
I nodded. Quentin tilted his head and looked at Holly, who was staring at the floor.
“Holly? Are you going to be okay? Can I bring you anything?” Q said.
“No, I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Lynchburg. I hope you’re able to rest.”
The inspection team consisted of eight men and arrived at seven-thirty. Within twenty minutes, they seemed to have lost interest in what they were doing. Most of them had done the same inspection just days ago. Holly was pacing the office floor while I rested my eyes. I was sitting in the cushy recliner in the corner. I think that thing has sleeping pills sewn into the fabric.
The inspector in charge tapped on the office door after an hour. His bored and restless crew looked on behind him. He shrugged and handed Holly the form.
“Nothing different from last week,” he said. “But when the boss says jump, you ask him how high, you know?”
“You get up at seven and go to work at nine—got no time for living, yeah!” I sang, for no good reason.
“What are you doing?” the humorless inspector said.
I raised a fist, and then lowered it. I looked at Holly. She had no use for me at the moment.
“Just showing a little solidarity for the working man, Chief,” I said.
He looked back at Holly and shook his head.
“Yeah. Working for Lynchburg must be pure torture. I’m sure he slaps you two senseless with stacks of hundred dollar bills every morning.”
He looked back at me and raised his own fist in a mock salute.
“Keep the faith, Brother.”
“I’m going to my apartment,” Holly said. “Are you coming?”
“Sure,” I said.
“I’m going to change,” she announced, disappearing into the next room.
I called Q and woke him up again.
“Sorry, Q. I thought you might want to know. The Fire Department cleared us in less than an hour.”
I heard him stretching and yawning.
“Good,” he said. And then he yawned again.
“Is Holly there?” he asked.
“Yeah, she just went to the apartment to change,” I said.
“When she gets back I want to talk to both of you. Put the phone on ‘speaker’.”
“Okay. I’m doing it now. I hear her coming.”
“It’s Quentin,” I said to Holly while I pointed at the phone.
“Hello again, Holly,” Q said. “Wylie told me the news. I’d like input from both of you on how we should proceed. I hesitate to go ahead with a full schedule, but I don’t want us to look weak or defeated. Porter and his friends might sense blood in the water.”
“We had one rough day, Q, that’s all,” I said.” Maybe we should think about bringing on a couple of other people.”
“What do you think, Holly?” Q asked.
“I agree that we should limit our schedule until things smooth out a bit. I also believe that we need to capitalize on the publicity. I hate to say it, Mr. Lynchburg, but the ghost chasers have already flooded in. We would be foolish to turn them away. The next couple of weeks could make or break a business such as ours.”
“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” Q said.” What’s the most people you’ve ever taken through on one tour?”
“The most we ever tried was about forty,” Holly said. “But that many can be hard to handle. We would only do it for groups of kids and birthday parties, and such. On those occasions, we had all of us there. We told everyone that uncle Seth was helping out while he was on holiday from his regular job as a Berserker for the Scottish Army. That was the part he was born to play. He teased out his hair to where it was about two feet tall and two feet wide. He jumped about a bit and acted like he was half-crazy.”
Q laughed.
“How about this,�
�� Q said. “We hold two tours tomorrow afternoon, with forty people each. I’ll call Elvis and see if he can help out.”
“I’ll see if Nate can help out, too,” I said.
“Looks like we have the rest of the day off,” I said to Holly. “So, what are you gonna do?”
“Take one very serious nap,” she said.
“Me too. I was just wondering if you might like to get out later?”
“Get out?”
She wasn’t making this easy. What a surprise.
I was standing next to her refrigerator. I absentmindedly opened the door. There were two six-packs of imported beer. Who bought those? I also saw a prepackaged salad and a half-gallon of milk. A box of Cocoa Puffs sat on the counter next to a box of Lucky Charms.
Shut up.
“We could get something to eat. And, uh, that new Comic Book movie opened last night. It’s supposed to be really good. It’s in 3D.”
“What’s 3D?” she said.
I swallowed hard.
“You…don’t know what 3D is?”
“I said ‘What’s 3D?’ Does that not imply that I might not know what 3D is? You Americans are wearing on me, Mr. Westerhouse.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe I just assumed that since you remind me of Lara Croft that you would know about movies and games and stuff.”
“Who is this Lara Croft?”
“Lara Croft, Tomb Raider? You’ve never—”
“You’re doing it again,” she said, her arms folded across her chest.
“Sorry. You’re right. 3D is a special kind of movie where you wear glasses that make it seem like you’re inside the movie.”
“Okay, now that sounds interesting. I think I might like to try that.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll pick you up at seven, then. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay,” she said.
“You lived out in the country, right?” I said.
“We were quite a way from the city if that’s what you’re asking. My folks grew up in cities and didn’t care much for them.”
“Not a problem. I’ve never lived anywhere but in a city, so forgive me if I make presumptions,” I said.
She nodded and finally unfolded her arms.
“You didn’t even have a television?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Mum and Dad said that it would rot our brains.”
“No television at all? That might be illegal in this country.”
“My Dad finally did buy a small one, but it was only for his…for our friends.”
“Your friends lived with you?”
“Well…no, that would be…sort of weird.”
“Your father bought a television, but just for your friends…”
“You know what, Mr. Westerhouse—having you around is sort of like having a parrot. You repeat yourself a lot.”
“Sorry, I do that when I’m nervous.”
“Do I make you nervous, Mr. Westerhouse?”
“You have no idea.”
She didn’t say anything, but the smile on her face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“Fair enough. Good luck getting out of here,” she said.
“Yeah, I hear that.”
“You hear what?”
“I’ll see you at seven, Holly.”
My plan for getting to my car involved sneaking out through a side service door that was a recent addition. I planned to run the short distance into the woods that bordered the golf course. From there, I could walk behind tree cover about a quarter of a mile, come out behind a row of houses, and circle back to my car. Good plan, poor execution. I slipped between two yards on the home stretch before I heard—
“There’s one of them! Between those houses!”
I looked up to see no less than fifty people running my way. They all carried cameras or video gear. I ran back the way I had come, easily putting distance between us because my hands were empty. I unlocked the service door and locked it behind me, and then I went to find Holly to tell her what happened.
I found her slumped against the wall outside of her apartment. Crying.
“Holly? What’s wrong?”
She jumped when she heard me. She stood while wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“What happened? What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, avoiding my eyes.
“Why did you come back?”
“I tried to sneak through the woods to avoid the press, but someone spotted me. I was almost to my car but I chickened out. There were fifty or sixty of them running right at me.”
Holly nodded. She sniffed.
“Maybe I’ll just hang out here, and we can sneak out later,” I said.
“I…I’ve changed my mind. About going out, I mean,” she said.
I stood there with my mouth open for a few moments.
“Why?”
“I just don’t think it’s such a good idea, ya know,” she said, without looking at me, “not right now anyway. There’s so much going on, the trouble we’re having, my having to catch up with my classes. I don’t need any more complications right now and neither do you.”
“It was just a movie—and some kind of hot meal that doesn’t come from a box with a leprechaun on it.”
Holly slid back down the wall to sit.
I did the same, keeping a distance between us.
“I’m a simple girl from the back wood, but I’m not daft. We both know it was more than that.”
I nodded.
“Yeah, it was. I hoped it was.”
“I like you, Wylie Westerhouse. I just can’t…I can’t do this now,” she whispered.
I exhaled and looked at her.
“Okay. Still friends then?” I asked. I offered my hand.
She looked around the room before she shook my hand.
“Absolutely,” she said.
Twenty-eight
Holly McFadden
Branson, Missouri
“Holly?” Elizabeth McIntyre whispered. Her head was protruding through the office door.
“Lady McIntyre,” Holly said, jumping to her feet.
“Has everyone gone?” Elizabeth said. “This day has been such utter madness.”
“They’ve gone,“ Holly said.
“There was nothing we could do to stop them. I couldn’t bear to watch those dreadful men torment you any longer,” Elizabeth said, wringing her hands. “And such language! We took the girls as far away as we could."
“I understand. Listen, I was going to get in the shower when I fell asleep—I’m just exhausted. Will you wait for me?” Holly asked.
“Of course, Dear.”
Dallas, Nora, Charlotte, and David entered the office a few minutes later.
“If anyone has any ideas,” Dallas said. “Now would be the time.”
“I dare say, it feels as if we are missing something,” David said as he stared out of a window.
He turned around to find everyone staring at him.
“I don’t know what it is, but it feels that way,” David said. “To me.”
“I’ve thought of little else since meeting this Bruiser Brady—” Dallas McIntyre said.
“He’s right,” Charlotte said.
“Of course, your father is right, dear,” Elizabeth said,” and he’s doing all that he—”
“No,” Charlotte said. “David is right. We’re missing something.”
Elizabeth looked at her husband and shrugged.
“Father,” Charlotte said. “What would you do if everyone was alive?”
“I don’t understand—” Dallas said.
“This is like any other battle is it not?” Charlotte asked. “What would you do?”
Dallas looked at the other faces and saw no relief.
“Well, Charlotte, I would study my opponent, and try to locate a weakness—a weakness that I could exploit and use to my advantage.”
“Okay, Father,” Nora said. “We have a place to begin
.”
“Aye, but in this ghostly realm there are no weaknesses,” Dallas said, shaking his head. “We have no ability to strike either fear or harm against our adversary.”
“Then we have to find a weakness in his brain,” Charlotte said, “and make him want to stop.”
“She makes some good sense, Dallas,” Elizabeth said out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’ve taught her everything I know,” Nora said as she inspected her fingernails.
Dallas knelt down and swept his baby girl up into his arms.
“Aye, Mother Scotland could have used such a brilliant young military commander to turn back those pesky Brits.”
“Aye!” Charlotte growled in her deepest voice.
“David? Are you there? David?” Arabella’s voice rang out from a distance.
“Mother of Mercy,” Nora groaned. “Mention ‘brain’ and ‘weakness’ in the same sentence and she’s like a moth to a flame.”
“I am here, Arabella,” David called.
“Do not move,” Arabella called. “I will need you momentarily.”
“Where does she keep disappearing to?” Elizabeth asked.
“She has secluded herself of late,” David said.
“She now spends a great deal of her time with her singing.”
“Singing?” Charlotte asked. “Why?”
“I’m not sure,” David said. “I’ve found her observing that young man, the one who is employed here. He sings sometimes for hours and Arabella never seems to tire of listening to him. He is quite talented.”
“What about Arabella?” Nora asked.
“You will think me unduly biased,” David said. “I had never heard my sister sing before. She is quite good.”
“Really?” Elizabeth said. “What does she sing?”
“Nothing that I am familiar with,” David said. “The lyrics to a song that she sings most often speak of a young woman in love. This woman professes over and over again that she is ‘crazy’.”