by Sean Michael
“God yes. Good old Payne MacG.” Flynn started to giggle.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Get it all out of your systems now, boys. This guy is a client, okay? C-l-i-e-n-t. He’s going to give us money to hunt the ghosts in his house, and it’s one that’s famously haunted at that. So if you’re going to think ‘Payne in the ass,’ let’s at least not call him that to his face.”
Will snorted. They all fed off each other, as Jason very well knew. But they were professionals on the job. It was only when they were on downtime together that they let themselves go. Apropos of which Will couldn’t resist teasing Jason. “No promises, but I’ll try.”
“Well, if anything comes out, say the ghost made you do it.” Flynn was cracking up.
Will howled. “That’s fucking perfect. I’m using that!”
Jason threw up his hands and started laughing too.
God, Will thought, these were the best friends on earth, the best guys a man could know. He grabbed his soda and held it up, waiting for everyone to notice and quiet down. “Here’s to the Supernatural Explorers and a paying gig. I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”
“No one else would take any of us,” Jason said.
“Nope. Now raise your glasses and cheers with me, assholes.”
Laughing, everyone clinked bottles with him. Yeah, the best group of crazy ghost hunters ever.
“Okay, okay.” Jason tapped away at his laptop. “I did a little research before bringing this up to you guys, and I bookmarked the tabs with the best information. There’s a lot of stories about the house—it is the oldest of its kind still standing, and the family that built it was filthy rich. It was constructed in the 1780s. They broke ground in 1782 in fact, and it took nearly five years to build. Apparently Angus MacGregor was a real harsh taskmaster, and the builders were treated worse than cattle. They lived in tents on the grounds while the building was being erected. They lost half the workforce to the cold the first winter, but despite the ground freezing and the snow, MacGregor insisted that the work continue through the winter months. He and his family lived in a hotel in town the entire time.”
Will made a face. “He sounds like a real prince.”
“You haven’t heard the half of it yet.”
“Go on, then, don’t leave us in suspense.” Darnell grabbed another slice of pizza, picking the toppings off and eating them bit by bit. Will tried not to watch.
“They lost fewer workers the second winter because by then the basement had been built and they were at least protected from the elements. From what I gather, food was the real problem at that point. MacGregor and his foreman rarely went out to the house with supplies during the winter months, and at least one worker had died of starvation by the time spring rolled around.”
Wow. This was some real Scrooge-type stuff.
Jason continued. “So when the place was finally finished, Angus MacGregor moved his family in. He had a wife and eight kids, seven girls and a single boy. Eight legitimate kids that is. The servants lived in the basement—there’s a half-dozen tiny bedrooms down there, along with the original kitchen.”
“I’m surprised he gave the servants their own bedrooms.” Will didn’t think that sounded like this guy.
“It makes more sense when you learn that he slept with most of the female staff and had God knows how many illegitimate kids by them. There’s no proof, but rumor had it that Mrs. MacGregor used to beat the girls he slept with, badly enough that not all of them carried their pregnancies to term.”
“God, that’s awful.” Flynn looked horrified, as did Blaine and Darnell. Will felt the way they looked. Probably had that same stunned-and-not-in-a-good-way look on his face they did.
“The daughters were all married off, and the boy—Angus Junior—inherited when Senior died. Apparently there were mysterious circumstances surrounding his death. It’s listed in the registry as natural causes, but many believe that the servants revolted. Maybe because two weeks before he died there was a fire in the basement that killed over half the staff. The fire never spread up to the main building—it stayed in the basement, and all the servants who were down there at the time died.”
“Jesus Christ, no wonder the place is haunted.” Will took a bite of his pizza because nothing was scary when you were eating pizza.
“There’s certainly a long list of possible ghosts.” Blaine took Flynn’s hand again, and this time Will was definitely envious.
“You got anything else on the place?” Darnell asked.
“There’s been a MacGregor there ever since. Direct descendants. What’s really bizarre, though, is that there’s always been only one son in each generation. And he’s who inherited. I’m not sure if that was codified into the will or not, but that’s how it’s gone.” Jason closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table. He stretched, long gangly legs spread out.
Blaine curled against Flynn’s side. “I don’t want to speculate too much before we get there. I don’t want to contaminate anything. Better if I go in and feel it out first.”
“That works.” Jason grabbed his laptop again, opened it. “I’ll email Mr. MacGregor and let him know we’re available for next weekend, starting Friday evening.”
“You guys want to stay for a movie or something?” Blaine asked. “We’ve got the good flavorings for popcorn again.”
Darnell checked his watch. “Oh, I can totally stay.”
“Me too.” Will was game.
Jason nodded and grabbed some more Coke. Flynn got up to make popcorn while Blaine set up the movie, and they all settled in for the rest of the evening.
Chapter Three
PAYNE felt a little like an idiot, calling for a group of actors and con artists to come investigate the house, but he’d done his research—he was a trained librarian, after all—and there were a number of reasons to go with these guys. To start with, there was the fact that they advertised an interest in hauntings with a gay element, which he imagined meant that some or all of them were gay themselves. At any rate, even if they weren’t, it had to mean they wouldn’t object to having a gay client. Second, and most importantly, there were rumors that these boys had actually seen something. A real something.
God knew he had seen things.
He’d inherited the big old MacGregor manse two years ago, and he’d finally made it livable about three months ago. The fourth-floor attic was scary as hell. He wasn’t sure what had gone on up there, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but it kind of looked like they’d padded the walls and maybe kept someone up there. The padded walls suggested that someone had been crazy. And as for the basement, where there were supposedly servant’s quarters, he hadn’t ventured down there yet. Every time he thought about checking it out, something seemed to come up to make him decide to put it off.
Payne had been handling the way things moved around and the opening doors and the way he kept hearing whispers, even the tossing of books and dishes. He put his head down and worked. But the whole pushing thing was new. Down the stairs, in the shower, across the newly mopped floor. That was too much.
The doorbell rang around ten minutes past their appointment meeting time of 7:00 p.m. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that these so-called ghost hunters weren’t punctual.
He opened the door, or tried to. The lock wouldn’t turn. “Hold on! I’m coming!” He fought with it, but it was like the damn thing was rusted closed. Except he’d opened it not more than an hour ago, and it hadn’t been rusty or sticky at all. “It’s stuck!” Goddamn it. He hated this shit, and it was happening more and more.
“Your door is stuck?” The disembodied voice came from outside. “You want us to push or something?”
“The lock. Just a second.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath; then the goddamned door unlocked. Just like that. Boom. Unlocked. Audibly. All on its fucking own.
He opened it, his hand trembling, and discovered a motley crew of five guys on his doorstep. The tall, lanky one with
acne—he was what, fifteen?—thrust out his hand. “Supernatural Explorers, at your service.”
“Payne MacGregor. Pleased to meet you.” Breathe. In and out. The worst that could happen was that these guys were the con artists he was expecting, and they’d be on their way in short order.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Jason. We spoke on the phone and via email. This is the team. Blaine, Flynn, Darnell, and Will. Can we come in?”
“Please do. Come on in.” He held the door open wider, trying to find a smile. “Welcome to the MacGregor house.”
“Thanks.” A guy who looked more like a biker than a ghost hunter—what did a ghost hunter look like anyway?—was the first in. He’d always found the bad boy look hot, and this guy was no exception. He hadn’t expected that. The guy offered his hand.
Payne reached out, and pure lightning seemed to jolt up his arm. “Oh. Static. Sorry.”
The guy looked at his own hand, shook it a moment. “Weird. I’m Will, by the way. This is Jason, Darnell, Blaine, and Flynn. We’re here for your ghost.”
Strange, it was like Will had totally missed Jason introducing everyone not thirty seconds ago. Payne decided to ignore that—after all, what was a little more weirdness?
“Well, I hope you can find it.” What was he supposed to do next?
“If there’s really a ghost here, we’ll find it.” The guy named… Flynn, he thought… said cheerfully.
“I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t know there was a ghost.” Whether these guys could tell or could do anything about, there was no doubt in his mind that the ghost existed.
“How about we sit, and you can tell us about it,” Jason suggested.
“Of course. Please come into the drawing room.”
“Dude, this place has a drawing room!” Someone—he wasn’t sure who, though it was either Darnell or Blaine by process of elimination—was stupidly excited.
“This is wicked cool.” Will was the first behind him, looking around, clearly fascinated. “We’ve always wondered about this house.”
“I inherited it. I’ve been doing a ton of work.” And research, making sure he got everything as accurate as possible.
Jason pulled a tablet out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I take notes?” When Payne shook his head, Jason bobbed his head. “Cool. So, the work—is it restoring-to-former-glory type of work or modernizing?”
“Restoration, barring things like electrical and plumbing, of course.” That needed to come up to code. Besides, who wanted to live in a place without running water and proper heating?
“Well, then, I can’t wait to see the place,” Jason actually bounced in his seat on the couch. He was obviously really into the gothic style.
Payne nodded. “I’m happy to give you a tour afterward. Some of the rooms are less renovated, of course.” At least they were all livable, though. Finally.
Will grinned at him. “We’ve been to all sorts of places, many of which have been condemned, so I think we’ll manage less renovated.”
“Well, I swear, there have been days I almost just had her torn down, but…. The fact is, the house has been in my family for generations, and I’m committed to saving it.” He’d put more money into it than he could possibly recoup in a sale too.
“Oh, that would have been a shame,” Flynn said. “She’s got so much character. And your ghost might have reacted badly if you had.”
“I didn’t believe in ghosts until I moved here,” he admitted. And if it hadn’t been for the repeated, undeniable things going on now, he still wouldn’t believe. But you could only reason away things flying across the room so many times before you had to admit there was more going on than shifting foundations.
“We do,” Flynn said, and the others all nodded.
“If anyone is the skeptic among us, it’s me.” Will shrugged. “But I’ve seen enough that I’m not really a skeptic. I keep the guys honest, though.”
“Good for you. I hope you prove me to be an idiot.” He wasn’t. He knew that.
The guy sitting next to Flynn, who looked like a real flower child, shook his head. “We won’t. You’ve got a spirit. Maybe more than one.”
Oh. Oh damn. “How—how do you know?”
“Blaine is our medium. He’s more sensitive than any of us, and he can see spirits, communicate with them.” Jason made a few notes. “What are you picking up, Blaine?”
“There’s just…. Your grandmother lived here before you?”
“Well, yeah, of course. My grandfather left the house to me since my dad predeceased him, but my grandmother had a life interest, so I took possession after her death. That’s all public record.” He frowned, not at all impressed. These guys would have done their research, right?
“Easy.” Will grumbled at him. “Give Blaine time. You don’t need to start with the dismissive attitude right off the bat like that. You called us, remember?”
“Will,” Jason hissed, glaring at the man.
“Right.” Payne pulled himself up, stung. “Yes. This home has been in my family since it was built in the eighteenth century.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. MacGregor. We can be a bit protective of Blaine. The usual reaction to a medium is skepticism and disbelief. People assume he’s conning them and act accordingly. But that reaction was uncalled for.” The last was aimed at Will. Jason could glare.
Will sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. We are here to help. And obviously you believe or you wouldn’t have called us. Right?”
Payne nodded, his lips tight. He did believe. He didn’t want to, but he did. It would have been so much easier if he could dismiss everything that happened with logical explanations. But he couldn’t.
“Then I hope you’ll accept my apologies.” Will sounded sincere enough.
“Sure.” What did it matter? Seriously? He was going to be the librarian who believed in ghosts. The crazy guy who lived in the big old house.
“Okay, thank you.” Will sat back, dwarfing the chair he had chosen.
“Why don’t you tell us about your ghost, then,” Jason suggested. “The things that you’ve seen and heard. Who you think it is, and why you think they’re here.”
“It started slowly, with things not being where I left them, different construction workers losing their tools.” He’d thought it was a thief, honestly, at least until things started flying across the room and one guy had gotten hurt.
Jason made notes on his iPad. “Is there a reason why you didn’t think it was some mischief maker—given that you’ve had people coming in and out, like the construction workers?”
“That’s exactly what I thought at first, but then the accidents started happening.” He wrapped his arms around his body, comforting himself. “That’s when I started to worry.”
“Accidents?” Jason asked, and all five of them leaned in.
“A cut hand. A window pane smashing into a worker. Then someone was pushed down the main staircase, and I saw it.” The guy hadn’t tripped—he’d clearly been pushed. Thank God he hadn’t been badly injured, but the truth was he could have been killed.
“Did you see the person doing the pushing?” Jason asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” He’d seen the guy being pushed, but no pusher. Although he thought he’d seen something out of the corner of his eye, but maybe his brain had made it up, trying to make sense of it.
“So this isn’t a happy haunting.” Jason made more notes on his tablet.
“Do you have any idea why the entity is so mad?” Will asked. “I mean—you’re bringing the place back to what it was. I would have thought that was a good thing.”
“I don’t have any idea. I brought in a priest, a psychic cleanser. I even did some things on my own.” Lots of sage, salt on the window sills and across the doorways.
“A psychic cleanser?” Will nodded sagely. “No wonder you were questioning Blaine when he asked about your grandmother.”
“I just….” He’d put everyt
hing into this house. Literally. If he left, he’d be penniless, but something was making it hard to stay.
“Go on. You just what? Anything you can tell us could be useful.”
“This is my home. I can’t leave. I’m going to outstubborn whatever it is.”
Will chuckled. “You know what? I think I like you.”
Darnell snorted. “I’m sure Mr. MacGregor will sleep at night now.”
Will tossed one of the throw pillows at the guy. “Shut up.”
Lord, they were young, but Payne thought the energy was good, friendly. Sort of wonderful.
“So what happens next?” Getting rid of his ghost problem tonight was probably not on the menu, though that would be nice. If these guys could get the ghost to leave, he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep.
“We’re going to explore the house,” Jason said. “Check out all the rooms and see where we get the most activity. With your permission of course. Speaking of permission.” Jason turned the tablet toward him. “We have a boilerplate agreement that basically says you won’t hold it against us if anything happens to you or the house because of the ghost.”
Payne frowned and started reading through the document. “Does this specify that you won’t pull up floors or tear anything down?”
“We won’t,” Jason told him. “But we’re not responsible if we piss off your ghost in our pursuits and it does the damage.”
“Does that happen very often? Major destruction like that?” He had a contingency fund, but it wouldn’t cover having to redo any of the renovations already completed.
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.