The Wantland Files

by Lara Bernhardt

  “You should take the high road and ignore the comments. What do you think you’ll gain by allowing her to drag you into this?”

  “I intend to set the record straight. She’s lying. People should know the truth.”

  “You honestly believe all these people saying nasty things about you will suddenly realize the error of their ways?”

  “I think they’ll realize there’s more to this story than Amber is telling them.”

  “They don’t care. They’re just trying to be part of the latest scandal. Makes them feel important. If we participate, we only fan the flames.”

  “So you’re going to sit there and let her lie about you and trash you all over the Internet?”

  “Not much different than your continual posts about me being a fraud. Also a false allegation. Did I ever respond to your goading and harassing online? Would you have stopped if I had?”

  “This is different.”

  “Not really. The best thing we can do is ignore her and let it blow over. The less attention paid to it, the sooner people will lose interest and move on to the next scandal.”

  Sterling leaned close. “Except it didn’t work with me, did it? Because here I am on your show.”

  She had never in her life punched someone. But her right hand fisted while images of slamming it into his gut tantalized her. Even if she’d probably break her hand on those rock-solid abs of his.

  Before she could reply, his phone rang.

  She transferred her fist to her crystal, shut her eyes, and breathed deeply.

  “She won’t stop calling me. This is insane. Does she think I’ll take her back after this?”

  “Probably not. She’s just trying to hurt you. And as agitated as you are, I’d say it’s working.”

  His phone rang again. “Oh my God, crazy—” He glanced at the screen and did a double take. “It’s my agent. I need to take this.” He stepped away to take the call.

  For the second time that morning, she became painfully aware of silence. Deafening silence.

  Her head swiveled to meet the gaze of every crew member. Mouths hung agape, eyes wide as saucers. She turned to Rosie. “I thought you said they all knew.”

  Rosie pulled the corners of her mouth down into an overexaggerated grimace. “I assumed as much. Maybe I miscalculated.”

  Michael cleared his throat. “Footage review?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.” She hurried to the table, where Elise offered raised eyebrows, a sly grin, and a thumbs-up.

  “Sterling is . . . ?” Michael asked.

  “He stepped out to take a call. From his agent,” she added, to clarify he wasn’t talking to Amber.

  The silence continued, broken only by TJ clicking images on his screen. Until he spoke. “I can’t believe you would . . . with Sterling.” The cameraman spoke the name as though choking down vomit.

  Elise spoke up. “She said nothing happened.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Really, TJ? After you asked for his autograph and sneakily recorded us and planned to upload the video?”

  “That was before I realized he’s a complete douche.”

  “TJ!”

  “What? That’s the way I feel.”

  Elise cleared her throat and tipped her head toward the living room, where Sterling stood. How long had he been there?

  Michael spoke first. “TJ, you should—”

  “If you’re going to say apologize, Michael, don’t bother,” Sterling interrupted. “TJ is merely voicing the popular sentiment of the moment.” He carried the camcorder to the table, set it down with a thump, and switched it on. When he depressed “Play,” TJ spoke again.

  “If you plug it into a laptop, we can all see the footage on a nineteen-inch screen instead of that two-inch postage stamp.”

  “Not a chance,” Sterling answered. “No way will I let you mess with my recording.”

  TJ jumped to his feet. “I don’t ‘mess with’ any recording. Nobody can see that screen. Especially not you. You have no idea what you’re looking for.”

  “There’s nothing to see. This is my only shot at objective evidence. I’m not giving you the opportunity to plant something.”

  TJ stepped toward him. “How dare you—”

  “Okay, boys. Calm down.” She stepped between them, placing a hand on TJ’s arm. When he took his seat, she turned to Sterling. “I have to agree with TJ on this one—”

  “There’s a surprise.”

  “Since you’ve made me promise to use the footage. It’s only fair we review it with you. You’ll be standing right here, your camcorder will never leave your sight. We simply view it on the larger screen.”

  He shook his head. “I still don’t like it.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Afraid we’ll find something you won’t be able to explain away?”

  His brows met above his eyes. He picked up the camcorder and thrust it at TJ, then dropped into a chair beside the junior cameraman. “I’ll be watching you.”

  “Bring it.” TJ clicked the USB cord into place and brought up the footage.

  She shook her head. In addition to finding and clearing a ghost, it looked as though she would also get to referee a pissing contest. Terrific.

  25

  Sterling’s footage disappointed Kimberly. She’d hoped it would prove their evidence wasn’t doctored. But the grainy, shaky recordings only proved that he’d never operated a camcorder before in his life. And induced queasiness.

  TJ’s periodic scoffs and interjections of “Amateur,” and “Basic Camera Operation 101,” ratcheted up the tension in the room.

  When they reached the part where Sterling dropped the camcorder and raced to catch her as she fell from the toddler bed, she suggested a break.

  “Yes,” Michael agreed, one hand on his stomach. “And someone run to any place that sells Dramamine.” He squeezed his temples. “And to Starbucks for double shots.”

  Elise gestured to several of the support crew and scrambled to fulfill his requests.

  Sterling stretched. “You can criticize my technique all you want, but my footage proves me right so far.” He walked to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  She joined him, leaning against the counter. “Nothing yet, true. Though that’s not terribly surprising. And you did see that no one shook or kicked the crib to set off the baby rattle as you thought.”

  “I’m one hundred percent certain the rest of the footage will be equally boring.”

  Rosie turned the corner into the kitchen, carrying two mugs of steaming tea. “Here we go. A decoction of lemon, ginger root, peppermint, and a touch of honey. One infused with sage.” She handed a mug to Sterling. “One without.”

  Kimberly accepted the tea and smiled. “You read my mind.” The ginger and peppermint would soothe the motion sickness wrought by Sterling’s footage. And while she didn’t want any sage in her system when she’d be inviting spirits to connect tonight, Sterling needed the help.

  “Um, Kimberly?”

  She turned and found TJ ashen. Odd. She sipped her tea and joined him at the table. “What’s up?”

  “You guys need to see this.” His hand shook as he reached for the mouse.

  “Hey!” Sterling strode to the table. “Did you go on without us? That wasn’t the deal.”

  She rested a hand on his arm and felt his red chakra flair. “Calm down. I’m sure it’s—”

  Guilt settled on TJ’s face. “I only wanted to get past the boring stuff.”

  She stared at TJ. “You did continue on?”

  “This recording is now inadmissible!” Sterling reached for the camcorder.

  “No!” TJ grabbed his arm.

  “Whoa. Come on now. This isn’t a court of law, Mr. Wakefield. TJ, I’m shocked you’d do this.”

  “You guys were standing right there. And I didn’t expect to find anything. I only meant to fast-forward past where the camcorder fell on the floor and get to the hallway manifestation.” He held up his hands in sur
render. “I had no time to add anything. I didn’t copy it. Check my drives. No downloads. Ms. Wantland, you have to see this. And if Wakefield is truly a man of science, he’ll want to see it, too.”

  She looked at her cohost, who still seethed. “Please?”

  He clenched his jaw and glared at TJ. His face softened when he turned his attention back to her. “Like anyone could say no to that face. Fine. Go ahead.”

  Her insides quivered at his compliment. Did he really find her irresistible? Rosie nudged her in the back.

  “But as far as I’m concerned, this footage”—he jabbed a finger at the screen—“has lost all credibility.”

  TJ jumped from his seat. “As far as I’m concerned, you lost all respect when you jeopardized Ms. Wantland’s reputation. Pompous prick.”

  “Fine! I’m an asshole. Everyone hates me. No one wants me here, least of all Kimberly. So I’ll go.” He turned and headed for the front door.

  “Good!” TJ called after him.

  “What the heck happened while I went to the toilet?” Michael intercepted Sterling.

  “I’m leaving. No one wants me here. My presence doesn’t add anything to the show. Because of Kimberly, I now have a psycho stalker—”

  “That wasn’t Ms. Wantland’s fault!” TJ yelled.

  Sterling rubbed his temples. “Because of my actions involving Kimberly, I now have a psycho stalker trying to convince everyone on the planet I’m a jerk. And everyone believes her. This week has been a disaster. I’m going to go.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re not going anywhere,” Michael said. “You signed a contract to appear on this episode of our show. And it’s all over the Internet now, with everyone excited to see it.”

  “Because you leaked it,” TJ reminded everyone.

  She held up a hand. “Okay, TJ. We know.”

  Rosie held up her phone. “Hashtag wantlandsavethedate already has over a half-million follows.”

  Michael nodded. “Believe me, I know. RandMeier calls me every few hours to crow about all the publicity we’re getting from this and to gloat about what a smart idea he had to bring you on the show. You’re stuck with us until we close this investigation.”

  Sterling muttered, “Coming on the show was technically my idea. Not his.”

  “Sure. But as far as RandMeier is concerned, it was his. And there is no way I’m calling to tell him you left.”

  Two days ago, she would’ve thrown streamers and confetti at Sterling’s decision to leave. Now the idea of disappointing her producer and all the fans excited about the show made her blood run cold. “Sounds like you managed to record something no one else caught. Don’t you want to see? Aren’t you at all curious? Don’t give up now.”

  Sterling turned his dark eyes on her. Something troubled him. She saw turbulence and fear, something that hadn’t been there until now. Even last night when he’d worried what Amber would do to him, she hadn’t seen this level of concern.

  Finally, he spoke. “I suppose I have nothing to lose. Let’s see what TJ imagined on the footage. Someone needs to be the voice of reason around here.”

  She heard a collective sigh of relief as Sterling returned to the table.

  “Just for the record,” Michael told Sterling, “I’m the only one allowed to pitch diva-style fits on set. Not even Kimmy has diva privileges.”

  Sterling glanced at her. “I suspect she manages to get what she wants without pitching fits.”

  Elise and the crew members returned with Dramamine and coffee shots, passing them around the table. Michael popped open the cap and chewed several tablets, washing them down with a gulp of espresso.

  “Stan, if we have potentially exciting footage coming up, let’s have you on camera to capture responses. Kimmy and Sterling, I want one of you on each side of TJ so we can get all three of you in the reaction shots.”

  Stan scooped up his camera and stood across the table from the trio. She and Sterling scooted chairs near TJ’s and leaned in close. Michael counted them in.

  “Okay,” TJ said. “Sterling dropped the camera. You can see it’s sideways, just laying there. When I had the headphones on, I heard all of us moving away, worried about Ms. Wantland. No one thought about the camera. But watch this.”

  He played the footage. The camera lens angled to include the edge of the bed. On the rough footage, a shadow appeared, as though creeping out from under the bed.

  She saw it before TJ pointed to it and leaned closer. “What—”

  “Wait,” TJ said. “The form becomes clearer.”

  Sure enough, moments later, the shadowy blob looked distinctly like the silhouette of a cat.

  Sterling shook his head. “Is that stray kitten I found still in the house?”

  Stan swung the camera when Elise spoke up. “No. I can confirm the kitten is no longer anywhere near the house. I personally took it to the Humane Society shelter. And someone adopted it yesterday.”

  “But you admit you see the silhouette of a cat?” TJ asked.

  Sterling hesitated. “I’m not sure what we’re seeing. I’m admitting to seeing a dark silhouette I cannot identify at this time.”

  “You’ll love the next bit then. This is where I called you over.”

  The image crept nearer to the camera, appearing to approach with caution. The closer it drew to the camera, the clearer the image became until the frame was filled with what very much resembled a rounded head with two pointed ears. As they watched, the head seemed to press against the camera, as though rubbing it. A coarse, reedy sound accompanied the movement.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  TJ adjusted the volume. “Let me see if I can clean up the sound a bit.”

  “No,” Sterling said. “No adjustments or changes. I insist.”

  “Dude, it’s only to clarify the sound. So we can figure out what that is.”

  “Leave the footage as is. That was the deal.”

  TJ blew out a deep breath and cranked up the volume even more.

  Michael cocked his head. “Is that . . . purring?”

  Elise nodded. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I thought purring, too.”

  “This is exactly why I wanted you to see this, Ms. Wantland. It’s the cat, right? And it’s rubbing against the camera and purring. It doesn’t look angry or aggressive at all.”

  She stared at the screen. In three seasons, they’d never captured anything that so clearly seemed to be the entity they were tracking. But Sterling shows up, drops a camera, and inadvertently records what could potentially be the strongest proof of a spiritual entity ever captured? That just couldn’t be. “Can you replay it, TJ?”

  “Really? You’re not convinced yet?” Sterling sneered at her. “Your crew seems ready to accept it, and for once you’re balking?”

  “I didn’t say that. But I always want to be sure.”

  “Well, I’m sure that’s not the ghost of a cat, but go right ahead and watch it to your heart’s content.”

  “What do you think it is?” she asked as TJ began the segment again, and she saw the silhouette creep from under the bed. “Look at that. Something came out from under the bed. What is it?” At that moment, she hoped he had a good answer. She didn’t want him to be the one who provided proof on her show.

  “That could be anything—a smudge, something on the lens. Why do you always jump to spectral entity?”

  “You just asked if the stray cat was still around here,” TJ said. “You must’ve thought the same thing we did. You just won’t admit it.”

  “No, I thought perhaps an actual cat crawled out from under the bed. Not a ghost.”

  “But there is no cat in the house. So where does that leave you? You saw a cat. There is no cat. What conclusion do you draw?”

  “Honestly? I draw the conclusion that you tampered with my recording.”

  “Come on!” TJ’s voice rose. “I would never do that. But even if I wanted to, I didn’t have time.”

  While they bickered, th
e footage continued. The purring sound ended abruptly, and the silhouette disappeared.

  “It’s gone,” she said. “It just disappeared.”

  TJ and Sterling turned their heads back to the screen. TJ reached for the mouse, but before he clicked it, a mist clouded the frame.

  “What . . . is that?” TJ asked, adjusting his glasses and leaning closer.

  “You mean you didn’t see this part?” she asked him.

  “No, I stopped and called you over when I heard the purring.”

  She and Sterling leaned closer, as well. A shadow fell across the frame. Darkness shrouded the room. The camera shifted forty-five degrees, so that the lens centered on the closet. The mist and darkness lifted, leaving a clear image of the closet door as it swung closed and latched shut.

  26

  Kimberly blinked at the screen. “I can’t believe this happened while I was unconscious. If you weren’t here, Mr. Wakefield, we would’ve missed it completely.”

  “Someone turning the camera? I’m afraid I’m not terribly impressed.”

  “No one turned it,” TJ said. “We were all out in the living room with Ms. Wantland. And we’re all recorded out there.”

  “Every single crew member is on-screen every second? Someone could’ve slipped away undetected and turned the camera.”

  TJ affected a pompous voice. “‘Someone could’ve slipped away undetected.’ What is this? The movie Clue? Was it Mrs. White? Or Colonel Mustard?”

  “That’s a completely possible scenario.”

  “And shrouded the camera in darkness and some kind of hazy mist? And closed the closet door without being visible on the footage?”

  “I haven’t figured out how you manage those illusions. But I will.”

  “They aren’t illusions,” she repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. “When will you believe me? This is your own footage. You recorded this. No one else handled the camera. And still you won’t accept what you’re seeing.”

  “Because it makes no sense!”

  The screen went black. When the footage resumed, they were in the hallway. She heard her voice instructing him where to record. His camera caught the crew with their equipment, similar to what TJ and Stan had already seen on their own footage. She heard their voices and then her own, demanding to know what the spirit wanted. Sterling commented on feeling a breeze. He swung the camera around to face her.