What a Ghoul Wants

by Victoria Laurie

  Heath leaned in over the table, his face hard with anger “Are you crazy?” Gopher just frowned at him. “Seriously, sending any of us back there would be suicide! I mean. . . Jesus, Gopher! She almost killed me! And then she almost killed M. J.! And then she did kill Merrick Brown and André Lefebvre!”

  But Gopher was unfazed. In fact, Heath’s last statement actually seemed to animate him. “But that’s the hook, don’t you get it? All those other fake ghost movies that’ve come out in recent years—they’ve made hundreds of millions! Our movie would be real, backed up by actual verifiable events!”

  I crossed my arms and stared hard at him. Our producer liked to play a little too fast and loose with our lives for my taste.

  Gopher turned pleading eyes on me. “M. J.,” he said, knowing full well that if he had a chance in hell, he’d have to convince me, “if you agree to get more footage, and we sell this as a movie, you and every person at this table would stand to make a lot of money.”

  I cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

  Gopher seemed to take that as a sign to continue the argument. “I’ve crunched the numbers with Chris, and told him that for this kind of dangerous work you guys would need a couple of points on the back end of the deal.”

  I wasn’t going to agree to stay, but he had piqued my curiosity a little. “In English, how much is that, Goph?”

  “If we get enough for a full-length film, and if the studio takes it to the big screen, we’re talking a couple of million for you and Heath, and about a half million apiece for the rest of the crew.” My eyes bugged. Was he serious?

  “Or,” Heath said testily, “the two of us might die.”

  Meg scowled at him and nudged Gopher with her elbow. “Tell her about the bonus.”

  “The bonus is really more of an incentive for you and the crew to stick with this no matter what, but basically Chris is offering a thirty percent bonus for this shoot if everybody agrees to stay on to the end.”

  “No matter what?” I repeated. That was the part of his speech that worried me.

  Gopher shifted in his seat and dropped his eyes.

  “He means, no matter if someone from the crew gets hurt or dies during filming, Em,” Heath said softly.

  Around the table both Meg and Kim looked at me with hopeful eyes, while Heath’s position was perfectly clear, and Gilley of course was shaking his head adamantly, but John kind of looked undecided and Michel seemed to be taking in everything that was said with rapt curiosity. I had a feeling John would grudgingly vote whichever way I was leaning. The guy had seen too much in that hallway to not have a personal appreciation for the level of danger we could face.

  And I’ll have to admit that my mind was racing with the offer. Gil and I had lived close to the edge of poverty since college, and I suddenly realized what kind of lasting financial freedom making that kind of money could buy us. “How much more footage?” I asked, and everyone looked at me with no small measure of surprise.

  “Maybe three or four hours’ worth,” Gopher said. “But not all of that would need to be usable. If we edit what we’ve got now, I figure we’ll only need about thirty to forty more minutes of solid scary stuff, and not all of that has to be taken in the danger zone. I mean, if you fill some of that with a few knocks, bumps, disembodied footsteps, or whatever, then that should get us by.”

  I felt the weight of the decision settle onto my shoulders, so I decided to play devil’s advocate. “We have enough for an amazing episode of Ghoul Getters, Gopher—why are you asking us to risk to get more? I mean, is a movie really a big enough reason?”

  “No, but think what the money could do for you and the crew, M. J.,” Gopher countered.

  “That and the thirty percent bonus,” Kim said. “Me and my mom could really use that cash right now.”

  “There is one more incentive,” Gopher said, in that way that clearly indicated he hadn’t told us everything yet.

  Heath rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”

  Gopher took a deep breath before continuing, as if weighing whether to even let us in on it. “Chris believes in this movie idea so much that he’s laid it all on the line. He said that this would be an all-or-nothing offer.”

  I blinked and looked around the table. It seemed that everyone was just as confused as I was. “Come again?” John said.

  Gopher leveled his gaze at me. “Either we proceed with getting more footage for the movie or he’s pulling the plug on our show.”

  Several loud gasps echoed around the table, but I wasn’t surprised. I’d met Chris only once and even then it’d been brief. Still, it’d been long enough to label him a total douche bag.

  “I’m assuming the clock is ticking on our final decision?” I asked.

  Gopher nodded. “We have until midnight to give him an answer.”

  Looking around the table, I knew exactly how the vote would go. Meg, Kim, and Gopher—yea. Gilley and Heath—nay. John was the swing vote, but even if he voted yea, my voting no would effectively veto it. Gopher couldn’t proceed without at least one of his mediums.

  So the decision rested on my shoulders. Again.

  I sighed heavily. At that moment I was so damn tired of the show, I knew that I could easily walk away and not look back. I’d head back to Boston and carve out a living doing readings for clients and the occasional ghostbust, but what tugged at me—besides the pleading eyes of Meg and Kim, who I knew really needed the cash—was the nagging thought of the souls of those victims the Widow had claimed. I suspected there might be at least a dozen or more names to her macabre roster—Mr. Lefebvre and Merrick were only the two most recent. The look on the ghost of Merrick Brown’s face really bothered me. He’d seemed so scared and confused. I hated the thought of him spending an eternity with the likes of the Widow, and I knew that if we worked this bust right, we’d have to look more in depth at that, and at least try to find a solution to freeing those poor souls.

  But could I do that without getting myself, or one of the crew members, killed? That was the central dilemma tugging away at me, and one I couldn’t answer with confidence. So were the financial gain for me and the rest of the crew and the freeing of several imprisoned souls worth taking such a big risk?

  I reminded myself that there were other things that had to be considered as well, namely, the dismantled drawbridge, the blow to the back of Mr. Lefebvre’s head, and the rope burns on Merrick Brown’s hands. Along with a dreadfully deadly poltergeist, was there also a living murderer loose among us?

  “In light of the two deaths here in the past two days I’m kind of surprised the castle is still open to guests,” I said, stalling for time while I tried to make up my mind.

  “The police told us not to go anywhere,” Gilley grumbled. “Even that cranky Mr. Hollingsworth has to stay put until they’re done with the investigation. They’re interviewing everybody who was here at the castle last night, which, it turns out, wasn’t very many people.”

  I had no idea how many guests were currently staying at Kidwellah, but by the size of the castle and the dining hall we were sitting in, I felt it could easily be anywhere between fifty and a hundred people. “How many people were here inside the castle last night?” I asked, simply out of curiosity.

  Gil said, “You, me, Michel, Mr. Crunn, his sister Mary, Mrs. Lefebvre, the Hollingsworths, and that’s about it.”

  “For real?”

  “André Lefebvre and the models weren’t here, and neither was Gopher and his troupe,” Gil reminded me.

  “No,” I said, “I meant, this is a pretty big castle. I just thought there’d be more guests staying here.”

  Gil shrugged. “It’s the off-season. And from what I understand, business has been way down since oh-seven. Mr. Crunn as much as admitted to me that he was really relieved that our crew and th
e fashion-shoot people booked this week.”

  Michel grimaced. “If I hadn’t insisted to André that we use Kidwellah for its dramatic setting, then he might still be alive.”

  “Not if he was murdered by someone he knew,” I said, and Gilley laid a hand on Michel’s arm in sympathy.

  Michel nodded reluctantly, but his expression was still clearly guilt-ridden.

  “But who could have killed him?” Gil asked, turning back to me. “I mean, come on! His wife was upstairs sleeping, the Hollingsworths were in their room, and Crunn said that Mary turned in right after cleaning up from dinner. The models all went into town and have each other as witnesses. Michel, me, John, and Mr. Crunn were together until you got back from the hospital. Gopher and his crew were somewhere out on the downs, and they all have each other for witnesses. Everybody’s accounted for, so who could it have been?”

  “Not everyone’s accounted for,” Meg said, her eyes darting sideways to Kim and then Gopher.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, Franco left our little party just after we set out for the downs. He said he was cold and had changed his mind about going on the ghost hunt with us.”

  Gil and I exchanged a surprised look. “Where is he?” Gil asked immediately. “That guy still has my phone.”

  Michel also looked surprised. “I haven’t seen him since he left with you three,” he said, pointing to Gopher, Meg, and Kim. “Did he make it back to the castle?”

  Meg shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “M. J.,” Gil said, waving impatiently at me, “call my cell and see if he picks up.”

  I pulled out my phone and called Gil’s phone. “Hello?” a male voice answered.

  “Franco?” I asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Who is this?”

  Gilley reached out and grabbed my phone. “Hey, sugar,” he said in his most sweet voice. “This is Gilley. Any chance I can get my phone back?” There was a pause and then Gil’s brow furrowed. “Gilley Gillespie,” he said. Then, “You borrowed my phone from me last night before you went on the ghost hunt. Remember?”

  There was another longer pause, during which Gil’s brow lowered to the danger zone. “What do you mean, you lost it?” he demanded. Another pause, then, “Franco, you stupid queen! I’m currently calling my phone! And, as you’ve answered it, it appears that you have my phone!”

  There was another pause and then Gil said, “Hello? Hello? Ohmigod! He actually hung up on me!”

  Michel made a motion for Gil to give him the phone and he redialed the number. “Hello, beautiful, it’s Mickey. I need a head shot of you in the main hall. Meet me there in an hour, okay? Ciao, bello.” He then handed me my phone back and said, “I’ll get the phone, Gilley, don’t worry. Franco is a pretty boy but bloody stupid.”

  Gil settled back into his chair and for a moment he truly didn’t look like he knew whether to be grateful or still irritated with Franco.

  “Well,” I said, “at least we know Franco is accounted for.”

  “Can we get back to the vote about the movie, please?” Gopher asked with impatience.

  Gilley and Heath both said, “No. We vote no.”

  Meg pointed to herself, then to Kim and said, “We vote yes.”

  “You know I’m a yes,” Gopher said.

  All eyes swiveled to John. He sighed like he didn’t really know what to say and just shook his head.

  “I vote yes,” I said, taking all the pressure off him.

  “I knew it,” Gilley grumbled. Looking at Heath, he added, “I told you she was a nut.”

  “Em,” Heath began, but I laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Honey, my mind is made up. We’re stuck here anyway, right?”

  “How can that be a good enough reason to put your life on the line?” Heath asked me.

  “It’s not. But there are a few reasons why I’m saying yes.”

  “And they are?”

  “Well, for openers, I keep thinking about Merrick. You saw him, Heath. His ghost was so scared and so confused. The Widow had him chained to her, and I think she might be collecting the souls of the people she’s murdered. I saw Lefebvre’s ghost chained to her as well, and I don’t know that I can walk away from here knowing those two and who knows how many others will spend the next several centuries tied to that murderous witch if we don’t intervene. She’s torturing them, Heath,” I said pleadingly, and although he was staring hard at me like I had to be crazy, I could see that I’d moved him with my reasoning.

  “Also,” I said, knowing I might have some momentum, “I hate to sound materialistic, but if we go through with this full-length feature idea, the money is seriously hard to turn down. The crew benefits too, honey. I mean, if we quit now, what’re they going to do?”

  Heath’s eyes swung across the table to Meg and Kim, who were both wearing anxious hopeful expressions. “With a million or so bucks in the bank, I could retire,” I went on. “We could retire, sweetie, and we could live anywhere. We could afford to spend half the year in Boston and half the year in Santa Fe. Think about it.”

  But Heath was still resisting the idea. “I have thought about it. In fact, I had a lot of time to think about it while I was in the hospital. Em, you don’t know how strong she is! She pulled me over that half wall and underwater like I was a rag doll. I’m a damn good swimmer and she still overpowered me like it was nothing!”

  “So we’ll stay away from the half wall,” I told him. “And the moat.”

  “But what about that thing in the south wing?” John asked me.

  I knew he was talking about the shadow demon that’d chased us down the hallway. I was a little worried about that too, but then again, I hadn’t seen any signs of it the night before. “I’m not saying we won’t have to be careful. We’ll have to be damn careful, and we’ll definitely need more of Gilley’s sweatshirts. One for every member of the crew.”

  “John hasn’t voted yet,” Gil said, eyeing the sound tech with an intense look. “He’s the tiebreaker.”

  I held back from telling Gilley that it didn’t much matter how John voted—if I was in, Gopher would have his medium and he could hire a new technical person and a sound guy anywhere. Instead, I turned to John and said, “Gil’s right. Now that I’m in, what do you want to do?”

  John spent a few seconds looking everyone at the table in the eye. “I vote yes,” he said at last.

  Gilley pounded the table and Heath swore under his breath. “You guys don’t have to participate,” I said.

  “If they don’t, they’re fired,” Gopher snapped angrily.

  I turned to him and glared hard. “If they’re fired, then I’m changing my vote, Gopher.”

  “Aw, come on, M. J.! If they’re out, then they shouldn’t get paid!”

  “Heath has more than earned his fair share on this bust,” I said icily. “And for that matter, so has Gilley. Who do you think set up the camera to stream to the computer and capture that footage of the Widow in the first place? And for that matter, who do you think sent Chris the footage? No, they’re getting paid either way.” Gopher opened his mouth to protest and I leaned way in over the table and growled, “Do not test me on this, Peter.”

  I felt Heath’s hand on my back. “That’s okay, Em. If you’re really going to do this, then I’m in too.”

  That shocked me. “You mean it?”

  “I can’t let you face her alone, can I?” he said with a sheepish grin.

  “You’re all crazy!” Gilley yelled.

  “We can find another tech,” I told him.

  “Good luck finding someone as good as me,” Gil scoffed.

  “They don’t have to be as smart as you, hone
y. They just have to set up the monitors, computer, and cameras and make sure it’s all running smoothly.”

  Gil made a face and slouched in his seat. “No one’s touching my equipment but me.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked him. I knew that if we went ahead and agreed to do the movie, Chris wouldn’t have any problem widening the budget for more monitoring equipment and a new tech to run it, but that would take time to arrange.

  Gilley’s answer surprised me. “If you fools are all in, then I guess so am I. But I’m going to monitor the screens from a safety zone.”

  “If you’re too far away, the feed won’t connect,” I reminded him.

  “I won’t be that far away, M. J. I’ve been playing with the electrostatic meters all afternoon. There’s a safety zone right in the center of the main hall. Not a peep on the meters registers when I stand there.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said. “I’m just happy you’re in.”

  Michel raised his hand and I motioned for him to speak. “Would you by any chance need an extra set of hands for your shoot? I’m as good with a video camera as I am with a still camera, Mr. Gophner. And I don’t scare easily.”

  “You need some extra cash now that your boss is dead and your photo shoot went to hell?” asked our ever-tactful producer.

  “A bit like that, yes,” Michel replied.

  I couldn’t help but notice Gilley’s scowl completely disappear and in its place was the most hopeful face I’d ever seen him wear.

  Gopher must have noticed Gil’s change in demeanor, because he squashed a grin and nodded seriously. “Sure, Michel. I guess we could use you. Consider yourself hired.” Turning to Kim, who began to pull out several stapled sheets of paper, he added, “Get his paperwork prepared right after the others sign.”

  I squinted at the sheets of paper. They looked like contracts, and sure enough, Kim began passing them out around the table according to name. “You came ready to do this, didn’t you?” Heath asked, with a hint of irritation.

  Gopher ignored him. Instead he focused on all of us and said, “Read these over, initial at the bottom of each page, and pass them back to Kim when you’re through.”