Inside the Executive's Pocket

by Etta Faire

  “Why are you hugging me like I’m dying?” she asked, pulling away after half a minute. “What is wrong with you?”

  I couldn’t get myself to say it. I just stared at her.

  “Oh stop it. I ought to kill that ghost friend of Louis’s for showing you stuff.”

  “Yeah, someone beat you to that,” I said, still staring. “And I need your help to figure out who it was.”

  “I can’t imagine why I’d help Sylvia Darcy out. Or anyone else from that club.”

  I put my stuff away in the back, calling out to her as I did. “Because you’re the bigger person. You’re the one who, when faced with the opportunity to hurt someone back, instead decides to be above it.”

  “Nope.”

  I put my coat and purse in the cabinet. “I’m thinking about doing a seance at the scene of the incident.”

  “Have fun. You can’t use any of my seance stuff, especially not my good tablecloth,” Rosalie yelled back. “I don’t want Sylvia’s bad energy all over it.”

  This was going to be harder than I thought. I came back out to the front room. “You don’t have to say ‘yes’ right away. I’ll give you some time to think about it. Like a couple hours. I want to do this on Saturday while your cousin’s still in town.”

  She seemed to snap out of it. “You two getting along then? That was nice of you to take Jean in, by the way. I know that woman is not easy,” she said in a way that suggested she wanted me to talk about it.

  “She’s great,” I replied.

  “And her mental health? Do you think she’s okay?”

  I nodded. “I think she really sees a vampire, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It’s not.”

  “And I don’t think she gives a damn about what others think about that. As a person who sees ghosts, I gotta give the woman respect.”

  Rosalie pursed her lips. “I guess because you’re helping Jean, I’ll help you with your seance.”

  I hugged her again and she practically flung me off of her.

  “I might also want Mr. Peters to cater things for me. Do you think he will?”

  I was hinting that I wanted her to ask him, but she didn’t catch on.

  She shrugged. “To tell you the truth, an outside seance sounds expensive.”

  “It shouldn’t be too bad. I could borrow some awnings and tables…”

  “And lights. How are you gonna bring lights down there? A super long extension cord? You’ll need a generator. And heaters because when the sun drops so does the temperature right now.”

  She had a point. This was starting to add up and I’d already spent way too much on my ghosts this month. “Maybe I can get Paula Henkel onboard. That woman has a ton of money and some pretty nice seance stuff.”

  Rosalie’s face went red. “Paula Henkel and the Executives Club? In the same seance? You’re just trying to kill me early, huh?” She sat down on the nearby stool and fanned her face. “And how are we going to get people to buy seance tickets last minute?”

  “I’ll call Mrs. Carmichael,” I said because she was the town gossip and this was a time when I needed word to get around fast.

  Chapter 24

  The Incident

  Sylvia didn’t look like she was ready to die.

  She was already sitting on my couch when I got home, staring at her ghostly faded hands folded in her lap, same mannerisms as her mother, same perfect posture too. I could tell she was nervous.

  I’d lived through death before, and so had she. Some were easier than others, but none were easy. The hardest part was knowing it was about to happen and not being able to do anything to change it. I was reliving a memory not altering it. Still, in the end, a part of me always tried. Don’t get on the yacht. Don’t go to bed early. Don’t pull the paper out of the horse bank.

  “You ready?” she asked me.

  “Not in the slightest,” I answered. It was a lie. It wasn’t easy to live through death, but it was enticing. And I found myself wanting to do it again and again. This was not something I admitted to anyone, not even ghosts.

  My houseguest had already gone to bed, and judging by the angry grunts she made on her way up the stairs, she’d struck out again at the Dead Forest.

  Rex followed my every movement as I shuffled my way into the kitchen to feed him before I channeled. I had no idea how long it was going to take, and I couldn’t risk missing a feeding.

  I petted him while he wolfed down his meal. He was such a good protector of this house. Always here. Always ready. He didn’t really like Justin. I could tell by the way his back stiffened just a little whenever my boyfriend came around.

  And this made me not trust Justin as much as I probably should have. That, and the fact he hid a lot of stuff from me.

  I decided to stiffen my own back and confront my boyfriend about those books tomorrow.

  I tried not to think about all of that and sat down on the couch next to my ghost client. “It was around 8:00 when we left off.”

  “I remember. We were about to head over to the drive-in.” Her voice was low, quivery almost.

  “Let’s start there.”

  She nodded.

  I took one deep breath after another, freeing my mind, drawing her into me as I inhaled, quieting my breath and my thoughts on the exhales. I felt her merge with me, smelled the faint scent of a heavily starched polyester pantsuit.

  I Will Survive played on the radio as a cool wind smacked me in the face. My seat rumbled, vibrating underneath me, the smell of exhaust replacing the polyester.

  I opened my eyes. Jay was by my side. I could see his dimples in the streetlamp overhead out of the corner of Sylvia’s eye. He’d changed into an all black outfit, like our upcoming prank had turned into a covert mission. I was still in my tight, constricting pantsuit.

  My hands were sifting through papers in the glovebox as we pulled up to a stoplight.

  He looked over. “What are you doing?”

  “I didn’t believe him,” Sylvia said to me in our head, as we pulled out the registration, a pair of binoculars, and the Toyota manual. “He was caught and he knew it.”

  “Stop. Just listen to my words for once,” he said.

  I could feel Sylvia’s face grow even hotter as Gloria Gaynor belted the empowering lyrics out. “Don’t treat me like a child,” she said.

  “Then stop acting like one.” He paused. “Look, I’m sorry I said that. But I am really, honestly trying to understand your here and now, but you’re making it impossible.” He turned down the music and hit a button on the radio. “I hate that song. So overplayed.”

  Night Moves played softly instead.

  We finally found what we were looking for. A dangly feather earring. We pulled it free from the papers it was tangled in and held it up by his face while he pulled through the intersection. He pushed our hand away.

  “So that’s how you got Rebecca’s earring,” Sylvia said. “Didn’t think I’d remember about that, huh? It all makes sense now. I found this in your truck after I came home from my conference. Remember, remember…”

  “That’s why you’re mad all over again? I thought you were over that.”

  “You told me she left it at the club, but…”

  “An earring? You’re accusing me because of an earring and some notes that I did not write. They were typed out. What? Do you think I asked the secretary to borrow her typewriter so I could write out love notes to a porn actress?” He smiled again. “Besides, I thought you were going to reserve judgment until we talked to Rebecca.”

  “She’s more than a porn actress,” Sylvia muttered. “She’s my best friend. Was my best friend… and that’s the part that hurts the most.”

  Sylvia rolled her window down even farther and let the wind blow through her hair. It felt good, but her mind still raced with all the possibilities and scenarios. “You two did it at the vet clinic, huh? Couldn’t do it at your place. Too many people lived there. Someone would tell me.”

  He s
hook his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Plus, in your letter you said you reenacted your favorite scene. Must’ve been the vet clinic. Because that’s where that whole movie was based. And Rebecca could get anyone in after hours.”

  “Those weren’t my letters. Stop saying that.”

  Jay turned down the narrow lonely street leading to the drive-in and I felt our stomach lurch. This was it. We were almost there. “Do you want to do this or not,” he asked.

  I could already hear the sounds of mumbled conversations and laughing.

  He continued. “Personally, I can’t wait to ask Rebecca about this because I know I didn’t write those letters, and I bet she doesn’t know a damn thing about them either.”

  Sylvia nodded. “I guess we’ll find out. Since we’re here. Might as well.”

  “Might as well,” he snapped.

  They didn’t talk much heading down the narrow road to the drive-in. Sylvia looked out at the forest, which looked exactly the same as it did in the present. I almost expected to see a boxy shadow running between the trees.

  After a minute, he smiled and patted our shoulder. “Try to have fun, okay? Not everything has to be heavy crap. How many Friday the 13ths we gonna have when Texas Chainsaw is playing near the Dead Forest?”

  She half-smiled back.

  “After we’re done scaring the crap out of ‘em, then you can ask her everything you want to ask her,” he added.

  She looked over at him, studying his face for signs he wasn’t telling the truth.

  “Then you’ll see,” he said. “I love you, and only you. I would never hurt you.” He ran a hand through our hair. She didn’t lean into him, but she didn’t pull away either.

  It was strange, hearing noises coming from this area. I’d only known it as deserted and creepy. It was still creepy, though.

  The drive-in’s enormous screen came into view as soon as we turned around the bend. The place was packed. Cars, trucks, and vans parked all along the dirt lot.

  The second movie had already started. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was just after 9:00 now. I saw it on Jay’s dashboard clock.

  I wanted to tell the woman on the humungous screen not to go into the house, or maybe not to take five minutes questioning why there are dead-human sculptures everywhere. Just run like hell when you see the first bone.

  But like my channelings, I didn’t have any control over someone else’s fate.

  Jay paid for our tickets and we pulled into a dark spot close to the other cars but not too far from Couple’s Path.

  “Danny’s going to meet us here. He’s bringing the chainsaw,” he said, chuckling under his breath, as we listened to the movie, watched the horror unfolding in front of us, larger than life. “When it starts to wrap up, we’ll head over before the credits roll.” He put his arm around Sylvia and pulled her in close. She stared at the screen, conflicted about the earring and the notes.

  The passenger door opened and a chainsaw plopped down by Sylvia’s clogs. She screamed, surprised by how jumpy she was.

  A man with wild dark brown hair that extended down to bushy sideburns laughed loudly into the truck. I recognized him as the guy from the garage who’d been standing next to his own sculpture. He was no longer wearing a tan leisure suit, though. He was all in black, same as Jay. He told Sylvia to scoot over but slid in before she had a chance, sitting on part of our leg. He shut the door.

  “Where’d you park?” Jay asked.

  “Don’t worry. They won’t see me,” Danny replied, pointing down through the lot. “I’m over there by the picnic tables. They’re way on the other side.” He patted the chainsaw. “I’m using this baby for one of my sculptures when we’re done. What do you think? Put it in the backyard? An ode to Chainsaw Massacre. An ode to tonight. Or maybe an homage to horror movies and how they shape our culture.”

  “Right on. Whatever,” Jay said, dismissively. He snatched the binoculars from off the middle console and looked in the direction Danny had pointed.

  “Found ‘em,” he said. “Nice Camaro.”

  Danny seemed pretty jittery. He sniffed for no reason and looked around a lot. I wondered if he was on drugs. “We should get going while we have the chance,” he said.

  “Calm down, dude,” Jay replied. “You okay?”

  “The Dead Forest makes me nervous,” he said. “That’s all. The rumors.”

  “All those weird rumors are what makes this so perfect,” Jay replied, getting out. He walked around to the bed of the truck, grabbed a large duffle bag and tossed it into the passenger’s seat. Danny stuffed the chainsaw into it.

  “You guys ready?” Jay said.

  “Yeah.” Danny pulled a black knit ski mask over his face. “Let’s blow this taco stand.”

  Sylvia gasped. “That’s scarier than the rumors,” she said when she saw that his mask covered everything but his eyes and mouth.

  Jay yanked the ski mask off his friend and stuffed it into his jacket pocket before opening the door to get out. “You look ridiculous. Don’t.”

  It was a quiet part of the movie, one of the intense parts where you know something is about to happen but you aren’t sure when or what.

  We passed by the backs of the cars. Everyone’s attention was on the screen and no one really noticed us. Our footsteps cracked over sticks and rocks. I could hear Sylvia’s breathing growing heavier.

  Much like the rest of the forest, the opening to the path looked the same today too. It was exactly where the bigwigs were stationed, where the German Shepherds had smelled Bobby’s t-shirt and tried to catch his scent, where Jean had been all day and where George had passed out. It was the perfect spot for my seance.

  Sylvia and Danny both hesitated at the edge of the forest. Jay tugged on Sylvia’s arm, pulling it harder than I was expecting. We stumbled forward. “Come on,” he said.

  It was already too dark to see properly. The lights of the drive-in didn’t really extend into this part of the lot. The sound of a chainsaw and screaming came from some of the speaker boxes in the cars behind us like a faraway dream, or an impending nightmare.

  The air felt different, even just down the path a little. Warmer, thicker, sweeter.

  “Not too far,” Danny said. “And stay on the path. I hear if you go off the path you become disoriented.”

  “That’s an old wive’s tale,” Jay replied, pushing by his friend.

  Sylvia pulled her jacket in tighter and searched through the trees as the wind howled around us.

  “First time down the path?” Jay asked.

  She nodded. “How ‘bout you?”

  “I’ve only been down it a couple times, just to go to the bathroom when I was younger and parking here,” he said. “It’s not that weird, except the unexplainable mist that always appears for no reason.”

  “Thank God I don’t see that,” Sylvia whispered under her breath.

  Danny looked around, bug-eyed and nervous.

  Jay stopped at a clearing and sat down on a log. Sylvia and Danny did too.

  “You’re trembling,” he said to her. “You guys, this is supposed to be fun.”

  Sylvia hugged her arms over her pantsuit. “I’m just cold and, I don’t know, it’s a little juvenile, don’t you think? I mean, we’re all young executives now and I just feel like what’s next? We gonna toilet paper the cheerleader’s front yard?”

  Danny chuckled by our side, a nervous laugh.

  “Juvenile?” Jay said. Danny stopped laughing.

  “Go on home then,” her boyfriend continued. “Go on.”

  “You know I can’t. You drove me,” she replied, her voice low. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, and I felt the key. It was still there. “It’s just silly, is all.” Her head was pounding. She rubbed her temples and smoothed out her jacket.

  I fast forwarded, listening to the sounds of the ending scenes streaming out from the speakers behind us, the music being played afterwards, the cars slowly pulling away.


  Sylvia was only thinking about her life and where she was headed. Who would be her best friend if Rebecca said all of this was true? She needed a new best friend anyway.

  A loud car approached our area, and Jay checked his binoculars, motioning for Sylvia to be quiet and get down. With his chainsaw by his side, Danny squatted next to her.

  And we waited. Sylvia could see Curtis’s new Camaro clearly from where she was crouched at, behind a bush just off the beaten path. He and Rebecca were already kissing, breaking in the Camaro.

  Danny leaned into Jay, almost falling onto Sylvia. “They’re really going at it. Hot damn. Hot damn. Just like that movie. Curtis is one lucky man. That is for sure. No offense, Sylvia.”

  “None taken. You’ve obviously been trained by a male-dominated society to think women are only good for sex,” Sylvia said.

  “Lighten up, Gloria Steinem.” Danny sighed heavily.

  “Okay, you two, stop,” Jay said. “We need them to look over…” His voice trailed off as he grabbed a rock and threw it in the direction of the car. It whizzed by the side mirror, landing in the dirt. He picked up another one and threw it harder. It hit the front window and landed on the hood.

  That got the attention of the new Camaro owner.

  “Oh crap,” Jay said as Curtis flung the driver’s side door open and looked out at the forest.

  “He’s going to kill us,” Sylvia said.

  Curtis walked around the back of the car and opened the trunk, still staring at the forest.

  He pulled out a tire iron and lifted it over his head. “Someone think this is funny?” He yelled out into the forest. “You better not have scratched my car.”

  Rebecca got out and ran beside him. Green dress blowing in the cool wind, leather jacket over it. “Curtis, be careful,” she said as she rushed to keep up with the angry bike manager.

  He headed into the forest, nostrils flared.

  Sylvia moved back behind a tree, no longer wanting to be a part of this.