Ghost Town (22 page)

Amber glanced at Drew, excited. Then she turned back to the chief. “When did the sightings start to increase?”

“Hard to say off the top of my head. A year ago, maybe? Yeah, that's right. The first one came in less than a week after last year's Dead Days celebration ended. I remember because I thought that if she'd shown up earlier, no one would've noticed. They would've just thought she was another person in a creepy costume. Hell, do you know how many people—both women
and
men—dress up like her every year?”

“Did anything happen at Dead Days last year that might've served as a catalyst for the sightings?” Drew asked. “Some sort of tragedy, maybe?”

“Nothing that I know of. The Chamber of Commerce estimated that we had a record number of tourists last year, though it looks like we may be in the running to beat that total this year. But that's all.”

“There were no murders or mysterious deaths over the last year?” Amber asked. “Before Tonya, I mean.”

“No. Just a few drunk drivers wrapping their vehicles around telephone poles. There
was
that kid who died out at the Reilly Farm last week, but that was an accident. He was poking around
in the barn when a rusty old hay elevator fell on him. There were No Trespassing signs posted all around the property, but the kid ignored them. Guess he was too eager to get some good footage.”

Amber and Drew looked at each other.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“He was one of the people making the documentary about Exeter. Ms. Gilman sent him to take some film of locations where they might shoot later. Scouting, she called it. I don't know why she even bothered with the Reilly Farm. Nothing much ever happened out there. A few reports of horses neighing in the night even though the farm's deserted, but that's about it. I guess a run-down, abandoned farm looks spooky on film. I suppose she'll have a marketing hook now, though. You know how movie people are. ‘A crew member died under mysterious circumstances during the making of this film.' ” He sighed. “Well, that's all the time I've got to give you. Thanks for the information, Ms. Lozier, Dr. Pearson. I'll let you know what happens.”

The chief stood, but before he could depart, Amber said, “One more thing.”

He frowned. “Make it fast, please.”

“There have been three murders so far. Don't you think it might be a good idea if you canceled the rest of the Dead Days festivities? Just as a precaution?”

Chief Hoffman looked at her as if she were crazy. “You think this is the movie
Jaws,
and I'm the chief who should close the beaches because there's a killer shark in the water? Right now, I don't have any proof that the murders at the bookstore and the museum are connected. Hell, I don't have any proof of
anything
yet. All I've got are three dead bodies and a hell of a lot of questions. And that's not enough to shut down the town's biggest moneymaking event of the year.”

The chief gave them a parting nod, then turned and walked out the hotel's front entrance.

Amber looked at Drew. “He's not the chief from
Jaws
. He's the mayor who wants to keep the beaches open.”

“You can't blame him,” Drew said. “As he said, we don't have any solid proof. Besides, even if he canceled the parade, a lot of tourists booked hotel rooms for the weekend. They'd be disappointed that the parade wasn't happening, but they wouldn't leave town any earlier because of it. They'd just start their parties earlier.”

“I suppose you're right. But I don't like it. Things are going to get worse—a
lot
worse—if we don't do something soon.”

Drew sighed. “I figured you were going to say something like that.”

“Hey, everyone.”

As Jenn approached their table, Trevor got up and pulled over a chair for her. Amber thought the gesture was sweet. She had never known Trevor to make a fuss over anyone like this. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and she liked it. He waited until Jenn sat down before retaking his own seat.

“How are you doing?” Drew asked.

Jenn shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. I think I slept some. I'm not sure. If I did, at least I didn't have any nightmares. None I can remember, anyway.” She attempted a smile and managed a passable imitation of one.

Her eyes were still half-lidded from sleep, her face pale and puffy. But she seemed awake and alert. Amber thought she was holding up well, considering the circumstances.

“Can I get you something?” Trevor asked. “Water? Coffee?”

“Nothing right now, thanks.” Her smile was more genuine this time. “So, what have you four been up to?”

“Asking questions and comparing answers,” Trevor said.

“And unfortunately, the answers are just leading to more questions,” Drew said.

“As usual,” Amber added.

“Where's Arthur?” Jenn asked.

“He was here until a few minutes ago,” Amber said. “He decided to go wander through the Exhibition Hall, talk to some more fans, and sign a few more autographs.”

“Speaking of Arthur, he said that Erin filmed a segment at your store yesterday,” Trevor said.

“That's right.”

“Did anything unusual happen?” Drew asked.

“What, you mean unusual as in paranormal? No. She just asked me some questions. What I think about living in Exeter, what sort of customers I get, stuff like that. She filmed me serving some customers, interviewed a few, and shot some footage of Arthur chatting with them. She also shot close-ups of a few book covers—and before you ask, Trevor, I made sure she filmed yours as well as Arthur's. But that was it.”

“Was your assistant there at the time?” Connie asked.

“Yes, Tonya was working then. Why?”

Connie looked thoughtful, but she didn't reply.

“Did you ever experience anything strange in the bookstore?” Amber asked.

“Given the kind of customers that Forgotten Lore attracts, of course I have,” Jenn said. “But no, not in the way you mean.”

“How about any previous owners of the building?” Drew said. “Did they ever report any strange occurrences?”

“Not that I'm aware of.” She thought for a moment. “When I bought the place, the real estate agent told me that it was supposed to have been haunted a long time ago, but a spiritualist had been brought in to ‘cleanse' the building. I didn't pay her story any attention. A lot of people around here believe in ghosts. Some of them like the idea that the building they're about to buy is haunted, especially if they're running a business and can use that to attract customers, but some want nothing to do with ghosts. I figured the real estate agent had pegged me for the latter type
and was just feeding me a line to get me to make an offer on the property.”

“If her story was true, it sounds as if whoever it was didn't do a very good job of cleansing,” Trevor said. “At least, based on what happened last night.”

“Maybe,” Connie said. “Or maybe the building had been cleared of supernatural entities for a time, but new ones moved in. It's like spraying for termites. If you don't do it regularly, you risk a new infestation.”

Amber was getting used to Connie's unexpected insight into paranormal matters, but she could tell that it still bothered Drew and Trevor. The two shared a quick glance after Connie's latest observation, and Amber knew it was only a matter of time until the three of them would need to address the matter. She supposed she should have been more bothered than she was about Connie, but the more time she spent in the woman's presence, the more comfortable she was around her. She wasn't sure why, but having her be a part of the team felt right, and that was enough for now.

“Why the focus on Erin's film?” Jenn asked. “Do you think it has something to do with the murders?”

Before any of them could answer, Erin said, “It's not polite to talk about people when they're not present.”

The five of them turned to see Erin standing next to their table, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

“Did I hear right? Do you really believe that my film pissed off some ghost, and she's now going on a murderous rampage through town?”

“Something like that,” Trevor said.

“That's ridiculous! We've been filming in town all week. We've shot footage in a dozen different locations. It's a coincidence that the murders happened in two of the places where we filmed. That's all.”

“Two of the places where you filmed
yesterday,
” Trevor said.

“And the murders happened in the same order you filmed in,” Drew said.

“That doesn't mean anything,” Erin said.

“And then there was Alex,” Connie said. “Arthur told us he died last week while scouting a location for you.”

“That was an
accident,
” Erin said. “Tragic as it was, there was nothing weird about it. No flying books, no lungs filled with river water.”

“What about the message that appeared while you were filming at the museum today?” Amber asked. “ ‘Stop.' ”

Erin frowned. “Are you suggesting the message was for me? That the ghost or whatever it is wants me to stop making my film?”

“It's a theory,” Drew said.

“Well, it's a dumb theory,” Erin said. “If some ghost wants me to quit making my movie, the easiest way would be to kill
me,
not kill other people in places where I filmed.”

They all looked at her for a moment.

“She has a point,” Connie said. “That's how I'd do it—
if
I were a murderous ghost, that is.”

“Look, I understand that you're all just trying to figure out what's going on,” Erin said. “You want to prevent more deaths from happening. I get that, and I'm totally with you. But the best way to do that is to keep investigating. My crew and I are scheduled to film at Tri-County Community College this afternoon. It was built on the site where a prison stood for almost fifty years before the flood. And every Dead Days, they have a festival for students. They have ghost tours, a costume contest, a horror-film marathon in the student union, and a haunted maze set up in the library. A lot of prisoners died during the flood. The guards didn't bother letting them out of their cells, and they drowned. The college is supposed to have more ghost sightings than any other location in town. It's a perfect place for you guys to do your thing.”

“And our thing would be . . .” Drew said.

Erin made a vague gesture. “You know. Checking out the psychic vibes in the area, seeing if you can contact any spirits. That kind of stuff.”

“Stuff that makes for great footage, you mean,” Amber said.

“Duh,” Erin said, smiling. “Of
course,
I want to get cool shots for my movie, but that doesn't mean I don't want to help you guys figure out what's going on, too. I'm a firm believer in win-win scenarios.”

“No murders have occurred at the college,” Connie said. “At least, not yet. It would be quite a coup if you and your crew were present during a killing, wouldn't it? You could record every gory detail, and your film would go from a minor-league documentary that almost no one would see to a movie notorious the world over. I imagine that would do a great deal to boost your career.”

Erin glared at Connie, but she didn't respond. Her silence was response enough.

Then she said, “Look, I'm going to track down Arthur, and then my crew and I are heading over to the college, with or without you. You can't stop me. What are you going to do? Call the chief and tell him that you're worried I'm going to stir up a bunch of murderous spooks? He'll just hang up on you. Since I'm going to do this, you might as well come along. If something bad
does
happen, at least you'll be there to try to deal with it.”

“And you'll be there to film it all,” Amber said.

Erin grinned. “Like I said, I believe in win-win scenarios.”

Mitch had parked
his Impala close enough to the hotel entrance so he could keep an eye on it but not so close that he would be easily spotted. There was a dull throbbing at the base of his skull, and although he tried to ignore it, it was really starting to bug him. Maybe his headache was from not getting much sleep last night and sitting upright in his car when he had slept. Maybe it was because he still hadn't had anything to eat.

Maybe it's because you let a damned ghost-bitch mess with your head,
his father's voice said.

Mitch paid his father's voice no mind. It wasn't real. More to the point,
she
didn't like it when he listened to his father's voice. He didn't want to be punished again. Until today, he had thought his father's punishments would be the worst he would ever experience. He had been wrong.

He was watching the hotel entrance when Amber walked out. Drew was with her, as was that chunky guy, the sexy babe, the old guy, the black chick, and three other people he didn't recognize. But from the equipment they carried, he guessed they were the black chick's film crew. The black chick and the old guy got into a VW Bug, the film crew climbed into a van, and Amber and the others got into a Prius.
What a pussy car,
he thought.

He started his Impala.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to follow them.”

“Turn it off.”

Despite what she had done to him earlier, he hesitated, his hand still on the key. “But Amber—”

She reached over and placed her hand over his. Cold so intense it burned sank into his flesh and penetrated his bones. He gritted his teeth and turned off the engine. She kept her hand where it was a few seconds longer before removing it. Mitch's hand still burned, and he massaged it with his other one, trying to work feeling back into it.