The Supernaturals (52 page)

The group was quiet as they took in the gathering darkness in the third floor hallway. John and George could feel the energy coming off of Gabriel in waves. They couldn’t tell if it was growing fear of the night ahead or the hatred he felt toward Summer Place. The two men exchanged glances and a silent message—one of them would be at this man’s side all through the broadcast.

“Jenny,” Gabriel looked down the hallway toward the suite where the German opera star had once stayed, and then past it to the sewing room. He purposefully refused to look at the area of the wall where his student had vanished, but he felt the spot nonetheless. “You haven’t felt the presence of Bobby Lee at all?”

Jennifer could tell that Gabriel had been banking heavily on Bobby Lee McKinnon’s help. She could see it in his eyes as he finally turned to face her. She almost wished she could help Gabriel, even though it would have meant having Bobby Lee back inside of her. Yet, she knew if that happened again, she would never survive the ordeal. He would make her go without sleep and practically sing herself to death. The past few days, she had regained strength and the perception of what a living hell she had endured at the hands of the mad ghost, and she didn’t think she could willingly go back. It had been a fluke at the Waldorf when Bobby Lee had came across the man ultimately responsible for his death, and she knew how lucky she had been to get relief; lucky that Bobby Lee felt avenged when he confronted the man after all those years. It had been as simple as that, as if the old-time record producer had unwittingly performed a half-assed exorcism and sent Bobby on his way, content just to have had his say.

Jenny took Gabe’s arm and shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

“Gabriel, I don’t mean to be an ass here, but you asking her that...it worries me,” Lonetree said, studying his old friend. “You would be willing to risk Jenny over this house?”

Kennedy felt ashamed. He realized that was exactly what he would have been willing to do. He looked away.

“John, it’s okay.” Jenny smiled first toward Lonetree, and then Gabriel. “If I thought Bobby Lee could really be of some help here, and if it meant driving out into the open the thing that’s inside this house, I would have done it. Don’t blame Gabriel.”

Lonetree nodded, unconvinced. They heard the creak of a door opening. The sewing room door stood wide open; they could see the sheet-covered furniture inside, even through the gathering darkness. No one moved or said a word. It was as if the five of them were standing in front of an old enemy and both sides were sizing each other up. If it weren’t for Julie Reilly coming up the stairs with a script girl, the stare-down would have continued.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she gained the third floor landing. Her eyes went from face to face and then settled on the portrait of the Lindemann clan on the wall facing the staircase.

“Oh, we were just discussing how to keep Kelly Delaphoy from making a mockery out of our attempt to find out what’s going on here,” Jenny said, lying smoothly.

“Well, I think one of the answers to that just came in. He’s down in the ballroom with Lindemann and Peterson. Detective Jackson made his grand entrance a few minutes ago. He’s taken up station in a corner of the ballroom after threatening anyone that would listen about what will happen to them if they get his face on camera.”

“Any other demands?” Gabriel asked, his eyes moving back to the sewing room door.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Julie said. She wrote something on her notepad and read it over, then tore the page out and handed it to the script girl. The girl didn’t even see the instruction Julie had written out; she was staring at all of the camera equipment and Leonard’s strange devices lining the hallway. Julie pushed the paper at her and the girl finally took it, then started for the stairs.

“Miss,” Gabriel said, stopping the girl. “No one goes anywhere in this house alone. Leonard, will you see that she makes it back to the first floor?”

Leonard smiled at the young, pretty girl and nodded. “You bet, Doc.” He took the girl by the arm and started down the staircase.

“You were saying?” Gabriel said, getting Julie back on track.

“He told Dalton and Peterson that he wants to travel the house tonight with your team. Specifically you.”

“And this cop is camera shy?” Lonetree asked.

“Lionel, the big mouth that he is even when he’s sober, said it would be no problem. They can get shots of the team without including Jackson. So I guess he’ll be behind the camera and sound men the whole night, but he’ll be there watching.”

“It sounds like he would be better off watching Kelly if you ask me. She’s the real danger here.”

They all looked at Jenny, who stood with her back to the sewing room, not wanting to give her cold chills any credence.

“Harris will have her in the production van right at his elbow. He’ll be watching her. After all, his reputation is on the line here also.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything. Damian Jackson was one small problem in a chain of them. He finally looked away from the sewing room and at the four people with him.

“Remind me to tell Leonard to concentrate his investigation in the archives on that room and the person who used it the most—Mrs. Lindemann. I’m wondering if something may have happened to her inside there. It seems to be making sure it’s noticed.”

“I agree, there’s more power coming out of there than any other room,” George said. He took a step toward the sewing room. Gabriel took his arm and stayed him from going further.

“Not now,” Kennedy said. “We’ll accept its invitation later.”

Julie looked at her watch. It was well after four-thirty. “I agree. Right now we have the final run through of the opening sequences, and Harris wants a word with everyone. And, just so you know, since the promos for the show have been running, the anticipated viewership has risen to close to fifty million.” Julie looked around the third floor and at the sewing room, then finally back at the others. “So if we fall flat on our faces, the whole country’s going to witness it.”

“I think we can bear up under the pressure,” Gabriel said staring directly into Julie’s eyes.

“That’s nice, Professor, but your career was already in the shitter. My fall will be from a much higher plateau than yours.”

“That shouldn’t bother you, Ms. Reilly. You should be more worried about what’s going to cause your falling to your professional death—a flop, or a success?”

Julie looked at Jenny. Her tense and smile said that she was only concerned about the flop portion of the equation.

 
As she watched the others start down the stairs, Julie looked up at the Lindemann family portrait and the smiling faces of the large clan. Then she heard a noise and turned. The sewing room door was once more closed. She shook her head as she turned and followed Gabriel and the others, wondering for the first time which death would be worse: the flop she fully anticipated, or something Summer Place had in mind. The possibilities of the latter alternative might just be the worse of the two.

“Goddamn creepy place.”

The commissary tent
was packed with technicians, electricians, cameramen, soundmen, hair and makeup stylists, production assistants and producers. And, of course, the people who were going to be seen live across the nation in less than three hours—the group that a lighting technician had dubbed the Supernaturals: Gabriel Kennedy and his team, along with Julie Reilly and Detective Damian Jackson.

While everyone sat around the ten long tables drinking sodas and coffee, Jackson stood in the far corner of the tent with one hand in his coat pocket and the other at his chin, listening but not hearing as Harris Dalton addressed the hundred or so crew. The lieutenant’s eyes were squarely fixed on Gabriel Kennedy. And what was most irritating to the state policemen was the fact that Kennedy stared right back. Jackson realized for the first time that the psychologist actually believed this night would bring him the redemption he sought over the disappearance of his student seven years before. But Jackson knew he would never see that redemption. He knew Kennedy would throw up a smoke screen at some point during the night to mask his culpability in the incident years before—to make people believe, or guess at his innocence. Jackson would be right beside Kennedy the whole night and he would make sure that the smoke screen was not as thick as the professor would like it to be.

“The two generators are outside the production vans for quick and easy access,” Dalton said as he looked at his notes. “The state police have moved the looky-loos three miles down the road, so we shouldn’t have any interference from them.”

“Just how many police will we have on hand?” a nervous production assistant asked. The pretty young woman was one of Dalton’s own people, and he felt for the girl. This was a lot of pressure for her first live assignment.

“The state police will have six men stationed in and around the property,” he answered.

“But not in the house, correct?”

All eyes turned to Kelly.

“Only Lieutenant Jackson, as per Professor Kennedy’s request,” Dalton answered. Kelly knew exactly who was to be allowed in the house, but was baiting both Wallace Lindemann and Lionel Peterson who sat side by side in the furthest corner away from everyone, watching silently. Both men were impeccably dressed and cleanly shaved and showered.

“Can we discuss the roving teams?” Julie Reilly asked.

“Please do. It’s time each team met their camera and sound people,” Harris Dalton said as he gestured for Julie to take over.

As Julie stood, Jennifer nudged Gabriel’s arm. She raised her right eyebrow as if to tell him to end the staring game with Jackson. Before she turned, however, she saw a small smile crease the state policeman’s mouth. Then he relaxed, but not before placing his hands on his hips; in so doing, he uncovered the black pistol he kept holstered on his hip. Jenny lightly shook her head.

“Professor Kennedy’s technical man, Leonard Sickles, will be with the four computer assistants inside the ballroom. They will be covered by a static and a remote controlled camera. Lighting there will be minimal, so expect a lot of blurred close-ups,” she said, smiling at Leonard.

“Blurred? Baby, this is the one face you want clear,” Leonard said with a grin. He kept his smile on until his eyes went to Jackson who merely stared at the former gang member. Then Leonard lost the smile fast.

“Just do your job in there, Mr. Sickles. Your research, which should already have started, will be going out live if you uncover anything.”

“If there’s something to dig up, we’ll dig it up. But I will need clear access to the west coast. Anything spotty may lose us valuable time and data,” Leonard said. He glanced nervously at Damian Jackson, knowing the man could see right through his bravado.

“Your satellite link is secure and every computer has a battery backup,” Julie reassured Leonard. “Team two, Professor Tilden, John Lonetree and George Cordero. Team three, myself, Professor Kennedy, Father Dolan and Detective Jackson.” She looked at the lieutenant, who raised his brows. “Detective Jackson will be the only one not filmed, taped, or otherwise recorded.”

Gabriel stood up and looked at the others. “Only one team at a time will be on any floor of the house, with at least one floor separating teams for sound variance. When team two is in the basement, team three will be on the floors above. When three is in the barn, two will be on floor three, and so on. You will be told your assignments during the show and at commercial breaks. It’s not perfect, but it will keep us from crowding each other.”

“Shouldn’t each team have a…” Lonetree looked around as if not being able to come up with the word. “Shouldn’t each team have a seer?”

All eyes looked at John.

“No. With Professor Tilden’s friend missing in action, I want her covered. I think she still may be a magnet for whatever it is in there. She attracted Bobby Lee McKinnon; she just may do the same here. You two will watch her and try to feel if that happens before it happens.”

John Lonetree looked satisfied at the answer, but not truly happy about it. It was as if Gabriel was still using Jenny as bait. Jenny calmed John when she reached out and wrapped her thin fingers through his enormous ones. She smiled without looking at him.

“By Professor Kennedy’s request, after the taped lead-in from New York, and after my intro from the front steps along with the introduction of the teams and their expertise, Summer Place will be secured—locked from the outside.”

“That’s just a little extreme, isn’t it?” one of the soundmen asked from the back table.

“Integrity.” Kelly stood, her clipboard held against her chest. “That’s the modus operandi of
Hunters of the Paranormal
. No one in or out for the duration. At the very least, it compels the viewer to believe the teams are isolated, which is hard enough to do on television.”

“Look, we all heard what happened the last time we had people in this funhouse. What if we need to get out of there fast?” the same man asked. He didn’t looking the least bit ashamed at questioning the
Hunters of the Paranormal
routine.

“For all of those who have the same concerns, I present you with this magic talisman,” Kelly said dramatically, holding something up like a cross to a vampire. “The key to the front and back door!”