“And the owner of the plantation gave us the okay to scout it?” Nonie asked.
“Not exactly,” Jack said. “As far as I could tell by all the court records, no one owns the house. It’s literally deserted.”
“You mean we’re going into that plantation without anyone’s permission?” Nonie asked, seemingly appalled.
“Technically, yes,” Jack said. “But it’s not like I didn’t try to find the owners. The state and feds don’t have a lien on it, and the last owner of the house on record died seven years ago in a nursing home.”
“Sounds like breaking and entering to me,” Nonie said, then chewed on her bottom lip, which she always did when she was nervous.
“Look, I wanna do this gig just like everybody else,” Buggy said. “But I don’t want to go to jail over it.”
“Nobody’s going to jail,” Jack assured them. “I spoke to the St Landry Parish Sheriff’s Department about us scouting it. They didn’t even know the place existed. Said as long as we’re careful and don’t take anything from the house, they didn’t have a problem with us going in.”
“Now you’ve sprinkled some bullshit on that one,” Shaundelle said. “Cops don’t give anybody free reign to do stuff unless there’s something in it for them. How much did you pay them?”
Jack grinned. “Not one red cent. Did tell them they might have a shot at being on one of the episodes, though.”
“Were you serious, bro?” Tatman asked. “We can’t even get on the real show. We’re just the help. How are you going to get those cops involved?”
“Big difference between being the help and a cop,” Jack said. “I think the producer will like the added seriousness of having cops there.”
“I’m all for it then,” Shaundelle said. ‘That little house with all of us in it is one thing. A big-ass plantation is something else. Sounds like the place is just sitting there, waiting for us. Nobody else wants it, we can sure make use of it. I bet all the lights and dings from all them gizmos you got will go crazy in a big ol’ deserted place like that. That’s gonna be our first five hundred bucks.”
“I hope you're right,” Buggy said. “I don't understand how somebody can just leave a plantation house deserted, though. After ten years, you know it’s gotta be dilapidated. And why would there be a house in front of it?”
“I don't know why it is the way it is,” Jack said. “The actual film crew will do historical research on the place. But for now, we’ve got the perfect setting. Two houses for the travel price of one.”
Guy harrumphed, not liking the “know-it-all” attitude that he thought he heard in Jack’s voice. He put a hand over his mouth, remembering that Nonie was in the van and that she could hear him.
Sure enough, Nonie jumped in her seat and turned about, looking right then left. “Did y’all hear something?” she asked.
“What you talkin’ about, girl?” Shaundelle asked.
“It sounded like a hiccup or a muffled hum.”
Shaundelle blew out a loud breath. “Girl, we ain’t even at any of the houses yet and you already wanna put the juju on us?”
“If you so scared of things like juju,” Tatman said to Shaundelle, glancing at her over his shoulder, “then why did you sign up for this gig?”
“The money, my brother,” Shaundelle said. “Same as you.”
“Yeah, but if you’re that scared, how are you going to work the cameras?”
Shaundelle snapped her head to one side, tossing some attitude. “Don’t be worrin’ about Shaundelle. I'm gonna work. I'm just going to set myself up and say Shaundelle Washington, you gots more nerve than any woman in the state of Louisiana, and you gonna take them pictures and be glad if something shows up. That don’t mean I might not be shakin’ inside, you know, and have to run to the little girls’ room.”
“So, what do we do, Jack,” Buggy asked, “if the place is really haunted? I mean, like if we see stuff moving around, hear voices?”
“We take pictures and record,” Jack said with a shrug. “That’s it. Then we leave. That’s the name of this gig. Find it. The film crew will either see and hear the same things or they won’t. And if they do, they’ll either do something about it or they won’t.”
“What they gonna do if they see shit?” Shaundelle asked. “Take more pictures and haul ass like us?
Jack chuckled. “I have no idea, That’s always a possibility. But that’s the thing about paranormal investigating. You can go to a location one day and hear pounding on the walls, footsteps everywhere, hear people whispering over your shoulder and nobody's there. Then you go back the next day with a full film crew and you don't even have a June bug flying around anywhere.”
“What happens if that happens with us?” Nonie asked. “We get evidence, hand it over to them and they send out a film crew who comes back empty-handed. Is the network going to want their money back from us?”
“No way,” Jack said. “We got the evidence they wanted on film and audio. The film crew not being able to pick up the same is their problem. We did our job and will get paid for it.”
“I like that plan,” Shaundelle said. ”We on our own, they on their own. Fair is fair. I just want my five hundred dollars.”
Jack slowed the van to a near stop and looked at everyone in the van. “Now remember everybody, I know the money is important to all of us but no fooling around while we’re there. No slamming the doors, no pulling drawers open. We get legitimate paranormal activity or nothing. If they find out one of us is trying to rig this gig, it’s over for all of us.”
“I ain’t gonna be touchin’ nothin’ but my camera,” Shaundelle assured him.
“And I’m just going to do the recording like you asked me to,” Buggy said. “No funny business from my end.”
“The Rem Pods are my priority,” Nonie said. “You’re not going to get any door or cabinet activity from me. If one of them goes off, I’ll be yelling for somebody to come and take a picture of it, but that’s all.”
“We got this, bro,” Tatman said to Jack reassuringly. “Nobody here wants to screw up a good thing. No worries.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence with Guy lying in the back behind the equipment,
When they finally reached what Guy assumed was their destination, he had to think quick. How was he going to get out of the van without being seen by Nonie? The only thing he could think of was as soon as Tatman or Jack opened the cargo doors, Guy would roll out and hide under the van. Then he’d wait for them to go into the house before slipping out. After that, he had no clue. If Nonie was one of the first ones to go inside the small house, he’d be able to sneak in behind the last one who entered and dart off into a side room, any room where Nonie wasn’t. He’d have to simply keep room hopping and closet dodging in order for him to keep an eye on her but keep her eyes off him.
The van doors opened and within minutes, Tatman had the cargo doors open. Guy rolled out of the van and slipped under it. He heard the twang of bungee cords being released and soon saw Tatman’s feet and equipment cases being set gently on the ground.
“Shaundelle, why don’t you take your camera, and Buggy you take a recorder, and Nonie you bring an EMF meter. Tatman and I will get the cameras and monitor set up,” Jack said.
“Uh . . .” Nonie said. “You showed me a Rem Pod and how it works but what is an EMF meter? I forgot.”
Jack pulled a Trifield meter out of one of the equipment cases and turned it on. It gave off a high-pitched whining sound, then settled into silence. “EMF stands for electromagnetic field. If it spikes,” he showed her how the measurement apparatus fluctuated,” then Shaundelle should take pictures around that area. It means that something has changed in the electromagnetic field around you, and we want to measure that. Take pictures in the area around it. Buggy, you can do an EVP session then. Do you remember what EVP stands for?
Buggy looked down at her digital recorder and back up at Jack, frustration on her face. “Yeah, electronic vomit a
nd piss machine, ‘cause that’s what I’m going to do if Nonie’s doomathingy goes off!”
Jack grinned. “Close. It means electronic voice phenomena. If there’s a spirit around, you may not be able to hear it with your human ears, but the recorder might pick it up. We can only hope so anyway.”
“Hope my ass,” Shaundelle said. “With just the three of us out there, you’ll be lucky if we don’t start hitchhiking our way back to Clay Point.”
“What about all that brave, ‘I’m going to get it done’ talk you gave us in the van?” Tatman asked.
“Shut up before I whack off your ponytail and use it as a broom,” Shaundelle said.
Tatman’s expression darkened, and Jack stepped in between them. “Okay, you two. Once we get inside and have the monitor set up, we’ll pair up to work the area.”
“There’re five of us, Jack,” Nonie said. “How do you split up five?”
“Yeah,” Shaundelle said. “Didn’t they teach you no ’rithmatic in school?”
Jack didn’t bite on her bitch bait. “Tatman will stay near the monitors, so he can see what’s going on in each room from the infrared cameras we’ll set up in them. Shaundelle, since you’re doing handheld cameras and Buggy digital recorders, you two stick together. I’ll stay with Nonie and work the rest of the equipment. We’ll set up the same way at the plantation, only there’ll be more cameras to watch on the monitor because it’s a bigger place. If you run across anything in either house, radio me.” He handed each a walkie-talkie. “I’ll come right away.”
“And if I see something on the monitor,” Tatman said, “in a room where y’all aren’t, I’ll radio you, too.”
“Good, Tatman,” Jack said. “Exactly what we need. Now let’s get to work.”
“You sonofabitch,” Guy said softly. He was still lying underneath the van but had heard every word they’d said. “That’s what you meant to do all along, you bastard, get Nonie alone. I knew it. I knew you were nothing but a lowlife. Well, if you want to see a ghost, Mr. Nagan, I'll show you one. You’d better leave my Nonie alone or I'll make sure that you never want to go ghost hunting again. Ever!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
As they gathered equipment in the driveway of the small house they were getting ready to investigate, Shaundelle suddenly slapped a hand on the side of the van, startling Tatman.
“Yo, Jack, I just thought of something,” Shaundelle said. ‘We gotta do this small house and then the plantation behind it. Are we gonna get paid for only one job since they’re right next to each other or if we find something in both we get paid five hundred each?”
“Two different locations,” Jack said, “So that’ll be five hundred per house.”
“Okay,” Shaundelle said. “Didn’t want to be wasting my time on a rush, you know?”
Jack looked back at her. “A rush?”
“Yeah, you know. When you get jacked out of something because you’re so damn rushed into it that you forget to ask for details.”
“Oh,” Jack turned back with a grin. “No rush here, for sure.”
Shaundelle leaned against the van. “So this could be a very, very lucrative night. This is a good thing. We should try to make two for ones every time we go out.”
“We can certainly try,” Jack said, “but the chances of finding two houses that are supposedly haunted side by side or back to back are rare. Guess it’ll depend on how hard and fast we can work to find something like that.”
“Oh, I’m all about hard and fast,” Shaundelle said. “You can count on me. Like out in the wards in New Orleans, I gots a lot of my people who live out there. They’ve got creepy shit happening all the time. I bet we could do two or three in one night if we go out there. I’ll call my cousin, Dashone and find out what’s been hangin’. I’ll get us some creepy shit. Don’t you worry.”
It was then Nonie noticed a gray Pathfinder pull up and park directly across from them on the street. A tall, lanky man with wiry salt-and-pepper hair got out of the SUV. He looked to be in his early fifties, wore Dockers, a button-down shirt the color of dirt, and black-rimmed glasses. He had a narrow, long face with a nose to match it.
“Stay here, Jack said. “That’s Frank Richardson, the son of the woman who owned this house. I’ll make sure everything’s still cool, then we’ll go in and get started.”
As Jack got out of the van, Nonie inched toward the front of the van to do a bit of eavesdropping.
Jack held out his hand when he met up with Frank, and the man took it and shook it enthusiastically. They stood in the middle of the street, chatting like they’d known each other for years.
‘How’re you doing, Frank?” Jack asked.
“Best as can be expected I guess. You know Mom was well into her nineties, so her dying didn’t come as a huge surprise, but she had such a big personality, you’d have sworn she’d live forever.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks, buddy. Look I’m not going to stand out here getting all mushy and hold you up. Here’s the key to the house. Just a heads-up. There’s a lot of . . . stuff in there. Mom never threw anything away. I’ve been packing up just the living room since she passed away and still have a good bit left to pack. At the rate I’m clearing out the house, I’ll be lucky if we’ll be able to start renovations by next Christmas. Anyway, the house itself was . . . Well, is pretty cluttered with boxes and the rest of her things. I haven't even touched the other rooms yet. Feel free to go through any room you like. All I ask is that you leave what’s boxed in the living room alone. It’s just souvenirs and things she collected over the years.”
“You can trust me, of course,” Jack said. “No one will mess with the boxes.”
“Oh, I know. Wouldn’t have given you the key otherwise. I’ll give you a call sometime mid-morning tomorrow, and we’ll meet up so I can get the key back. I’ll be interested in hearing if you guys find anything in there tonight. Mom always claimed there was a ghost in the house. Called him Captain. She claimed most of the activity was in the kitchen and upstairs. Now upstairs is not a living area. She kept it as kind of museum of sorts because it served as a hospital during the Civil War. She has a couple of army cots up there with Confederate uniforms laid across them, and heaven only knows what else. You’re welcome to go up there, just ask your people not to handle the antiques if you don’t mind.”
“No problem.”
“Oh, and just so it won’t take you by surprise,” Frank said. “Mom has a sawhorse in the middle of the living room with a saddle on it. She used to ride, you know. Won that saddle in a riding competition. Very proud of it, too. I’m afraid you’ll have to work around that along with the rest of the chaos.”
“Not to worry, my friend. We’ll be very respectful of her things. I just appreciate you letting us in to do an investigation.”
As Frank and Jack shook hands, indicating they were about to part ways, Nonie hurried back to the other side of the van. If an old woman claimed that she had a ghost in her house, she either had a vivid imagination or it was the real deal, which made Nonie nervous. The spirit the old woman claimed she saw was either residual energy, like a shadow of a person from the past playing a role they’d played in life over and over again or an intelligent haunting, meaning that the spirit was able to communicate with the living. For all she knew, as attached as Frank’s mother was to her home, she might very well still be hanging around inside. Nonie was concerned that if the spiritual activity in the house was intelligent, and she did see it, she was going to have to watch her reaction to it so the others, aside from Buggy, wouldn’t discover her secret.
Jack hurried back to the van and dangled the house key in front of everyone. “Time to get to work. Everybody grab an equipment case. I’ll open up the house and see what we have to work with.”
“Hol’ up,” Shaundelle said. “That man just gave you them keys? Wasn’t he afraid you or one of us might steal something inside?”
Jack shook his head. “I’ve kn
own Frank for a long time. Knew his mom, too. They’re good people, and they know I’m not a thief. Do I have to worry about any of you being thieves?” Jack said, eyeing Shaundelle since she’d brought up the subject.
“And have some ghost chasin’ me all the way back home to get their shit back?” Shaundelle said. “Oh, hell, no. I ain’t even gonna collect dust in that place. Pictures, remember? I do the pictures. No stealing here. No, and hell to the no.”
“Good,” Jack said. “Frank said the place was pretty cluttered with memorabilia that he’s been trying to pack away for weeks. So let’s be on our Ps and Qs and not touch anything. We’ll just have to work around the clutter.”
“Yeah,” Buggy said. “Old people have a tendency to hold on to things forever.”
“It’s more than that,” Jack said.” Frank’s mom was the first Miss Louisiana and also the first woman to win ribbons and trophies for barrel-racing quarter horses. He said she still has the saddle she won from one of the competitions in the living room. It’s sitting on a sawhorse.”
“Wow, Nonie said. “Impressive lady.”
“Oh, she was,” Jack assured her. “And she had the one of the most positive attitudes I’ve ever known in anyone. She was a pip.”
Nonie chewed her bottom lip, getting more nervous by the minute.
“Because of the clutter, I don’t think we’ll have room to set up a command station with our cameras and monitor. So we’ll each carry handheld equipment and go from room to room and see if we pick up anything. Nonie, you can still handle the Rem Pod, only take a camera with you, as well. Buggy, you can still bring a digital recorder, but I’ll give you an IR camera to operate, too. I’ll handle the rest of the gadgets with Tatman. We’ll each have a walkie and they’re already set up on channel one. If you run into a problem, all you have to do is depress the talk button and the rest of the team will hear you and come to where you are. And remember, no matter what kind of clutter you run into, don’t move it. That was important to Frank, and I don’t want to violate his trust.”
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