What a Ghoul Wants (25 page)

I let that sit a minute with the crew before I continued. “The important thing on
this shoot is going to be to protect ourselves first, get the footage second. I don’t
want anyone taking unnecessary risks. Even if Gopher pushes you for it, you’re to
stick to the game plan and follow my or Heath’s instructions. Got it?”

To a person everyone nodded.

“Good. Now, Kim and Meg, you’ll need to go into town and find the right-size sweatshirts
for the crew. You’ll need two sweatshirts per person—I want backups just in case someone’s
gets torn or lost.”

Meg raised her hand. “M. J.?”

“Yes?”

“I had a thought,” she said hesitantly as she eyed the sagging mass of fabric around
Gilley.

“Which is?” I really wanted the girl to just spit it out.

“Well, I know we’ve always glued the magnets to sweatshirts, but what if there was
a better garment that might let everybody move a little easier?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“A bubble vest.”

“What’s a bubble vest?” Gil asked.

“You know what a bubble coat is, don’t you, Gil?” she replied. “It’s a puffy down-filled
coat.”

“Oh, I know what you’re talking about,” Gil said. “I have one of those at home in
Boston, but I don’t wear it ’cause it makes me look fat.”

Everyone at the table seemed to press their lips together, because Gil’s current choice
of protective ghost-gear made him look like something out of a tire commercial. “Anyway,”
Meg continued, “I was at this store in town yesterday, and they have a whole section
of bubble vests on sale—probably because summer’s coming. I was thinking that we could
take out some of the stitching in the quilting that holds the down, and shove in some
magnets, then sew the seams back up again. That way the material wouldn’t sag, the
vest would still keep you nice and warm, and you’d have the full use of your arms
without being weighed down by the magnets.”

Shy little Meg surprised me with her ingenuity. “Girl, that’s a fantastic idea!” I
said. “How long do you think it’ll take you to convert a vest into a magnetized version?”

“Maybe an hour and a half?”

I grimaced. We’d need a total of eight vests plus maybe one or two extra for security
and it was already well after ten. Meg would also need to buy the vests after our
meeting.

“I could help,” Kim said. “I’m pretty good with a needle and thread.”

“You’re hired,” I told her. “And I want you guys to head to town right away to purchase
the coats. Get Gopher’s credit card before you go, and if he gives you any flak about
it, call me and I’ll set him straight. John, can you take notes for the rest of the
meeting and fill Kim and Meg in when they get back?”

“No sweat.”

“Great. Kim. Meg. Go get ’em.”

The two assistants pushed back their chairs and practically ran to do my bidding.
I was rather liking my little power trip. Too bad I couldn’t get Gil to react like
that.

“I hope you don’t expect me to jump to your command,” Gil muttered, as if he’d read
my mind.

I ignored him and focused on Michel. “When they get back, I’d like the first vest
to go to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I think we should get some stills of the castle, both inside and out, to use
in the movie. I know Gopher’s directing this thing, and he may toss out the idea of
using stills, but if we have photos on hand, we can better formulate a plan about
where to shoot first. All of the shots should be taken in the daytime, and the minute
dusk hits, you hightail it back here so that we can have dinner and catch a little
sleep before we set out tonight.”

“Of course,” Michel said. “I like the idea of using stills in the movie too.”

“No getting too close to the south wing, though,” I warned. “Even with a magnetized
vest it’s not a good idea.”

“Got it.”

Next I turned to John. “I need a blueprint of the castle, John. If there isn’t one
on hand, then please find Mr. Crunn and have him help you draw a map. Let him know
I need to be able to see every secret passage and hidden stairwell he knows about.
I don’t want any of us to get caught like you did the other day when you fell against
that sconce.”

John nodded. “I’m on it.”

Finally I turned to Gilley. “Yes?” he said with half-closed lids.

“I need some additional research.”

“Don’t you always?”

“Are you really going to be difficult on this bust too?”

“Why change now?”

“Because, smart guy, if you don’t get us what we need, the Widow could strike in a
way or in an area we don’t expect, and Heath is the only one I’d go back in the water
for.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “What do you need to know?”

“I’m curious about this Desperate Duke character. I’m convinced it was his ghost I
saw after I fell onto that strip of land outside the door I jumped from the other
night, and the Widow was clearly wary of him. I think he’s someone we may want to
make contact with and maybe even enlist to help us fight his widow. I’m still not
sure if he was also the ghost I saw out on the moors from inside the castle, so I’d
like it if you could confirm that the duke also haunts the moors. And I want to stick
to the original plan we had to go in search of him first, before we tackle the Widow.
Also, see if you can find any good deeds done by this man when he was alive. Maybe
he wasn’t a total bastard and something you dig up will help us remind him of his
humanity.”

But Gil was already shaking his head. “M. J., you’ve already seen him once and that
means you’re marked for death! How many times are you gonna tempt fate on this bust?”

“I’m still alive, Gil, which means the legend is probably flawed. Besides, he helped
me, which means in life he might have been a misogynist bastard, but in death he did
a girl a great favor, and that has to count for something.” Gil continued to glare
at me contemptuously, so I repeated firmly, “Just get me the research, will you?”

He muttered something that I’m sure was unflattering to me, but he also tapped a few
notes into his phone, so I didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Anything else?” he asked.

“No. That should do it.”

“What’re you and Heath going to do?” John asked.

“We’re going to pay a house call,” I said.

Heath looked at me curiously. “Who’re we going to see?”

“The Dowager Countess Lydia Hathaway.”

Several mouths fell open.

“I don’t believe the dowager would be willing to meet with you without an appointment,”
Michel said.

“Maybe not. But we have to try. I don’t have a lot of confidence about our ability
to shut the Widow down, and if we fail in that goal, then I think we’ll need a backup
plan. Ideally, I’d like to see the castle closed and locked up tight, but I think
I’d settle for having the moat drained. Either way, Kidwellah Castle shouldn’t be
a vacation destination for anybody. And with three recent deaths on castle grounds,
I can’t see how the dowager could reason otherwise.”

“Good luck with that,” Gilley said, and not like he actually meant it.

I gathered up my messenger bag and stood to end the meeting. “We’ll regroup back here
at six for dinner, get some shut-eye for a few hours, then start filming around one
a.m. If you run into any issues with your assignments, please call me on my cell.”
And that’s when I remembered something else and I turned to Gil again, dreading that
I had to ask him one more favor.

“Oh come on!” he yelled, clearly reading my expression. “Pick on somebody else, would
you?!”

“Heath needs a new phone,” I said, ignoring the drama queen fit he was throwing, but
conscious that the rest of the crew had paused to listen.

Gilley glared at me. “Let him get it himself,” he snapped, clearly irritated that
he’d been assigned so many tasks.

“You have the crew’s cellular account info, Gil,” I reminded him. “It’s a lot easier
if you handle it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Michel said, and I could’ve hugged him, because Gilley immediately
softened.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Michel said. “It’ll be our little date. You can convince me to get a
mobile and I can keep you company.”

I thought Gilley might float right out of his chair—he was so pleased—but then he
remembered me and cut me another dark look. “You owe me.”

I sighed. “Don’t I always?”

Gil muttered again, but I could tell it was all an act. I turned my attention one
last time to the crew. “Okay, everybody, you have your assignments. Let’s get to it!”
With that, everyone scattered.

Once we were back in the main hall, I asked Mr. Crunn to order me a taxi, and Heath
and I waited out on the road, well away from the drawbridge. While we stood there,
Heath turned back to stare at the castle. “What?” I asked him, wondering what he was
looking at.

“You’d never know it was such a terrible place in the light of day.”

I looked back too. But I wasn’t fooled. I’d seen way too much in the past few days
to ever think of it as anything but an awful place. I turned away without comment
and stared instead out at the moors. To my eye, the rolling hills and lush green grasses
were far more picturesque. The taxi didn’t take long to reach us, and I couldn’t help
but notice how the driver looked a bit relieved that we met him out in front of the
castle so that he didn’t have to drive across the bridge. Once we were seated, I said,
“Do you happen to know where the Dowager Countess Hathaway lives?”

In the rearview mirror, his eyes grew wide. “I do, ma’am, yes.”

“Can you please take us to her home?”

The driver shifted in his seat. “Pardon my asking, ma’am, but do you happen to have
an appointment to see the countess? And I’m only asking because without one, you’re
not gettin’ an audience with the likes of ’er.”

“Well then,” I said, unperturbed, “we’ll ring her bell, make our inquiries, and ask
you to wait for us should we get turned away, if that’s all right by you?”

The driver mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “It’s your funeral,” but
he didn’t try to talk me out of going.

We drove in silence the fairly short distance to a large redbrick home that sat atop
a hill overlooking Lake Byrn y Bach. When I realized how close the house was, I felt
a blush touch my cheeks. If we’d only asked Arthur for directions, Heath and I could
easily have walked.

We got out and I paid the driver, thanking him and letting him know that we would
find our own way back to the castle. He smiled and winked at me, knowing he’d just
taken another American for a few pound notes she could easily have kept.

Heath and I approached the front drive a bit warily. I had no idea what the dowager
was going to be like, or if she would even see me, but I had a compelling urge to
talk to her, and I don’t usually ignore my own intuition.

At the front door I let Heath press the bell. It gonged with a somber tone. A few
moments later the door was opened by an elegantly dressed gentleman, tall and imposing,
with silver hair, a long hooked nose, very erect posture, and a clear disdain for
the appearance of strangers on the dowager’s doorstep. “Yes?” he said, in that way
that suggested his next comment would be “No thank you, good day.”

For a second, I had no idea what to say, but then I just blurted out a partial truth.
“Hello, sir, my name is M. J. Holliday and this is my associate Heath Whitefeather.
As you can probably tell from our accents, we’re from America, and we’re currently
staying at Kidwellah Castle filming for a television show we’re featured in, and I
was wondering if the Lady Hathaway might perhaps be able to give us some history on
Kidwellah—if it’s not too much of an imposition, that is.”

The man at the door stared down his hooked nose at me as if he could barely fathom
the audacity of such a bold request, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, from
somewhere inside we heard, “Fredrick? Who is it?”

Into view came a woman perhaps in her early to mid-seventies, smartly dressed in fine
silk and cashmere and with perfect ash-blond hair cut to just under her chin. “Hello,”
she said cordially.

“These are two Americans, my lady,” the butler said with a slight bow.

“Oh?” she replied, her eyes alight with interest. “Are you here on holiday?”

“No, ma’am,” I said, wondering if it was correct to address the countess as “ma’am.”
“We’re here on business. We’re filming a television show at Kidwellah Castle.”

The countess stepped forward. “Oh, yes! I had heard you were coming to investigate
my beloved Kidwellah. How are you enjoying your stay?”

Her question took me by surprise. Surely she’d heard about the tragic happenings of
the last few days. “It’s been. . . eventful, ma’am.”

The half smile she’d worn since making her appearance never wavered, and I didn’t
quite know what to make of that, but I really wanted to have a chat with this woman,
so while the opportunity presented itself, I took it. “I hope you’ll forgive our unannounced
intrusion, ma’am, but our producer told us this morning to call on you and beg an
audience. You see, we have very little background on Kidwellah, and he thought it
might be a good idea to ask you about it. I mean, no one could be a better resource
for the castle’s history than its owner, right?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the butler subtly roll his eyes. He didn’t care
for my informalities one little bit, but either the countess forgave me my ignorance
or she had nothing better to do that morning. “Would you and your gentleman friend
like to join me for a spot of tea?” she asked.

“Yes, please!” I said with great relief as the butler stepped to the side and opened
the door wide to allow us entrance.

Both Heath and I formally introduced ourselves and followed Lady Hathaway a little
deeper into the beautiful home. I knew that her house had been described by the taxi
driver as a “cottage,” but it was by no means modest. However, it was quite cozy.

By the look of it, the dowager’s home was at least five thousand square feet, with
large airy rooms adorned in the most beautiful fabrics and rich array of colors. A
lovely collection of artwork graced nearly every wall, and fine antique furnishings
completed the setting.