In the Dead of Night (56 page)

“I sure as hell do have a clue…you just don’t know, bro. But let’s go back to your original point. No…not if you’re a ghost,” I said, no longer able to keep a straight face. “All ghosts—regardless of race—look gray in the night. It’s part of the Constitution for Disembodied Spirits, dude. Unless a ghost is gonna pose for a picture at Fort Negley. If that’s the case, then you damned well know they’ll be wearing Union blue.”

This time, Justin and I chuckled together, while Brandon wore a weak smile, as if he was still having trouble following us. Or, maybe it was his discomfort on account of our addressing him directly, when our contract clearly states we’re supposed to avoid this sort of dialogue with the station’s staff while filming.

“Hey…Brandon,” said Justin, lowering his voice while motioning for our freaked-out cameraman to come closer to him. “Did you catch all that, man? I sure as hell hope you did. You just might have something really significant caught on tape from Jimmy and me for once…. So, now you can relax and quit sticking that frigging boom mike in our faces. You dig me, man?”

Once Brandon’s initial expression of wide-eyed surprise dissolved into one of sheepishness, he laughed along with us. Granted it was nervous laughter, but it was laughter nonetheless.

“What’s so funny?”

Fiona and Jackie stepped around a wall, and frankly it surprised me that I was unaware of their presence. If they were psychopathic killers instead of the love of my life and her best friend, I guess us three guys would’ve been dead before we knew what hit us.

Jackie smiled at me, and I immediately wondered what Fiona had said to her in the last half hour. Obviously, it was something that made our co-leader view me a helluva lot differently than she had since last night. Or, perhaps Fiona was back to glamoring unsuspecting victims again.

Regardless, I was pleased that I might soon be pardoned, or at least paroled.

“We’re just having some fun, Miss Fiona,” said Justin, turning up his impish charm. “It’s all good, especially now that you ladies are here!”

“All right…and what sort of mischief have you both been up to?” she said, shaking her head in mock disgust. “I can tell by the look on our esteemed camera man’s face that you two have been up to some serious shenanigans.”

“We’re just having some fun with the poor guy, since we were relegated to do the grunt work down here,” I said, shooting a few pictures of the lower earthwork mounds to my right, since it seemed likely we wouldn’t be in this location much longer.

“Well, it’s been no picnic up inside the fort ruins either,” said Jackie. “The guys from the Madison group have been pestering Sally to where she told Michelle she is just about to quit on us and go home. So, when we visit Overton Hill and Montgomery Hill, she wants to switch up with Brandon.”

“That sounds good to me,” said Brandon, drawing immediate looks of surprise from us all. As is the case for us, our camera folks are supposed to not converse with the subjects they are filming. And, it had been more than a year since an employee of the station had broken that rule. Then again, since Sally had stepped outside of it that afternoon, he might’ve felt obliged to do the same. Or, more likely, he could hardly wait to rid himself of the ‘Justin and Jimmy show’.

“Well, we’ll be happy to entertain her since obviously Brandon prefers biker dudes to the more refined likes of us,” teased Justin, offering the same pat on the back to our suddenly embarrassed cameraman that he had given to me earlier. “Good luck to ya, man!”

“Ed suggested that we wrap up the rest of our tour here, since the Metro officers will need to move on to their other duties by three o’clock,” said Fiona, her smile fading as she addressed the business that brought her to our cozy little neck of the woods. “Is there anything else—”

“Hey, Jackie! Fiona!!”

Michelle nearly tumbled down the path as she ran to reach us.

“What in the hell?” Jackie ran over to her when Michelle landed painfully on one knee, and then caught her before she slipped again. Slight patches of ice would remain a menace until sunlight returned, and according to the local forecast that wouldn’t happen until Monday at the earliest. “Are you all right, baby? What’s with you running down here, anyway?”

“There’s a fight—a really bad one! Ace James and a guy named Pooch started duking it out over something mean that Ace said!” Michelle announced, and then motioned urgently for us all to follow her back up the hill. “The Metro guys are working to stop it now, and Ed sent me to get y’all. He said ‘the party’s over.’”

“I knew we shouldn’t have allowed them to join us!” fumed my wife, lamenting to Jackie. “I tried to tell Tom this was a stupid ass idea to include them—a
very
bad idea!”

“Yeah, I know,” Jackie agreed, sighing deeply before brushing off Michelle’s right knee that had likely been bruised on the unforgiving frozen ground when she fell. “This really sucks. It royally sucks bad!”

I’m sure that Justin and I would’ve agreed, had our opinions been sought for consideration. But the female trio before us suddenly acted as if we weren’t there. Fiona and Jackie flanked Michelle to help her walk since her injured knee almost buckled on her. Then they turned around and headed back up the path.

“I don’t know which is worse,” I said to Justin, as we set out after them, while Brandon followed from a safe distance of nearly twenty feet behind us.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it better to be a leper or invisible?”

“Man, you crack me up!” He chuckled again. Suddenly, he stopped and grabbed onto my left arm. “Shit! What in the hell’s going on over there?”

He pointed to the heavier tree line to our left, less than a hundred feet away.

“What are you talking about—
Oh shit!”

My first instinct was to call to the gals ahead of us, and I would’ve done so. It might’ve made things worse, however, since the figure clad in a gray hoodie was moving away quickly from us through the sparse foliage along the hillside. Moving away, I should say, with what looked like a rifle bag strapped to his shoulder.

Since it’s illegal to hunt animals within Nashville’s city limits, I’d say chances were high he was stalking something else…human game? Perhaps unsuspecting humans who thought a daytime visit might protect them. How frigging arrogant and foolish of us all! The only positive thing was the dude was heading farther away…and yet he was also going up the side of a hill that would provide a nice vantage point of the fort. Not to mention the fact ours was a sizable collection of ghost hunters at war with one another for a variety of reasons.

It brought to mind the sort of herd turmoil that once worked well for the plains warriors of yesteryear when hunting bison. And the irony that our current predicament could well present a sweet delight for this lone gunman hit me full force. A gunman who likely had brought along a high-powered rifle of some sort…maybe even a weapon that was loaded with military grade ammunition.

“We need to warn the others right away!” I urged, motioning to Brandon to keep up with us as I picked up my pace to catch our vulnerable ladies. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

Chapter Fourteen

Saturday afternoon’s sighting of the mysterious gray hoodie man might’ve been the hot topic of conversation at Sunday’s Christmas party at Tom’s. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, because other than us three guys, no one else saw the gunman scurry up the hillside across from the fort.

By the time we caught up to Fiona, Jackie, and Michelle, we could no longer see him. He must’ve moved into deeper cover, as the only thing that Justin and I could detect was slight movement in the brush where we last saw the top of the maroon rifle bag. Brandon’s powerful zoom lens confirmed this, in addition to providing the image of several branches from a nearby evergreen swaying. But, it all could’ve been caused by one of the strong gusts swirling through the area.

Yes, we still advised everyone about what we saw, and Fiona and Ed especially seemed to believe us. However, I would’ve thought at least some of the guest attendees would desire to hightail it home to avoid any imminent danger. Instead, the wee ghost busters from the sticks south of Nashville wanted to give chase to our apparent stalker—his high-powered rifle and possible hollow point ammunition be damned.

Obviously, the folks from Murfreesboro and McMinnville indulge themselves with too many vigilante action flicks. Either that or they carry an insane wish to experience the afterlife firsthand. I’m thankful none of our group embraced such crazy notions. And, I must say the gun-toting Thomas twins showed no inclination to pursue the gray-hoodie dude either.

What did turn out to be the big buzz for our group was the fact three members of the Madison Wraith Hunter Society were arrested Saturday afternoon in the fort’s parking lot. Two members—Stanley ‘Ace’ Johnson and Michael “Pooch” Picaro—were arrested for disturbing the peace, due to their all-out fistfight. One other member—Michael’s younger brother, Johnny Picaro—was taken in for narcotics possession, after a small vial of heroin fell out of his coat pocket. If he hadn’t tried to rescue Pooch from the pummeling he endured from Ace, his little illegal stash would’ve likely remained undetected.

It turned out to be a nice distraction to laugh about amid all the stress and unfortunate events happening around us. As I mentioned earlier, Sunday evening was when Tony and Ricky resumed their friendship with me. However, if not for our earlier meeting that day in Tom’s studio, where we discussed our meager findings from Saturday while game planning for the next ‘official’ PTW studio show that had been confirmed for January 13
th
, the détente might’ve continued indefinitely.

In retrospect, I think the forgiveness on Tony’s part was aided by the studio’s confirmation that our individual contracts would be renewed in January in preparation for next spring’s bed and breakfast tour. Also, the surrounding states of Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, and Kentucky were being added to our scope of venues, which in turn meant a much bigger road production budget to work with.

“Man, are you stoked?” asked Justin, shortly after the meeting ended and we prepared for the catered party that Tom was throwing for us inside his home.

“I’m feeling pretty good about things,” I said, grabbing a few cheese cubes and crackers from a goodie tray in the living room to tide me over until dinner, which was set to begin at 6:00 p.m. sharp. “The spring tour should be a blast—especially if it’s true that we’re staying at the Emma Tremaine House in Savannah. Fiona and I encountered a ghost there on our trip down to Tybee Island for our fourth anniversary.”

“Sounds like fun,” he said, but not anywhere near as excited as he was a moment ago.

Justin loves to investigate spirits. However, like me, he’d prefer they’d not be standing near his bed looking at him when he awakens in the middle of the night. I’m sure he remembers, at least vaguely, that’s exactly what happened to Fiona and me at the Tremaine House. Totally freaked me out, man…but at least it was the ghost of a middle-aged gentleman who tipped his hat to me before disappearing.

“Look…if it gets bad enough, you and I can grab a room at the Hilton and Lakisha and Fiona can deal with the ghosts that keep watch over the house—or any other haunted place for that matter,” I assured him.

He chuckled, and my words seemed to lift the cloud that had briefly settled over his countenance. His smile grew wider when he glanced at his fiancé, who stood with Fiona and Michelle near the kitchen. She paused to flash her gorgeous smile our way, while raising a Killian’s in salute. Strikingly attractive, Lakisha was once a cheerleader for the Titans. Her greatest feature is her eyes, which are often more iridescently green than Fiona’s.

“I think I want what she’s drinking…. By the way, y’all should get a picture taken together tonight before you leave,” I said, referring to the hired photographer that Tom had also splurged on. Justin joined me as I walked over to the kitchen, where the beer and ale awaited us. “You two look really good, and God only knows the next time you and I will be dressed up like this.” I laughed.

“We’re doing that on New Year’s Eve when we double date at the Cascades Restaurant in the Opryland Hotel. Remember?”

“Yeah, that’s right…I almost forgot.”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“No, man, I remembered we were getting together with you and Keesh,” I assured him, chuckling myself this time. “I just thought we’d be slumming it at some Italian place downtown.”

“Dude, everyone dresses up for New Year’s.”

“We don’t…well not always.”

“Well you should…since you never know where the red hot parties are gonna be. Gotta be prepared.”

“Sounds like Boy Scouts.”

“It also goes for people who want to have a very cool time out on the town, on the best night of the year for that shit.”

He shot me an imploring look that said I better be ready to dress to the nines that night, and that my beige brushed corduroy coat and faded jeans look wouldn’t cut it for New Year’s—despite the Ralph Lauren dress sweater and viper Durangos.

Hell, I was comfortable and endearing, I thought, although in a very rock n’ roll sort of way.