by Terri Reid
“We understand there was an accidental spill of anhydrous ammonia,” the older woman was explaining. “It caught the farmer unaware, and he died nearly instantly.”
Did he even know he was dead? Mary wondered. Was he wandering around wondering why no one was listening to him?
She shook her head and decided that she would try to find out the address of the farm and see if she could meet the farmer and have a little chat with him. Then the couple changed the tone of their presentation.
“We stayed at the farm throughout the night,” the man said. “And as we were leaving, the sun was just rising over the cornfields and the woods near the house. We decided to take some photos that had nothing to do with ghosts.”
They displayed a series of slides of the beautiful farm land, awash in the golden pink of sunrise. A flock of geese appeared on the horizon of one slide, traveling in formation. Another slide caught a curious deer peeking out from behind an ancient oak tree on the border of the woods. The views were breathtaking.
“I can see why he wanted to stay,” she murmured.
“Excuse me?” a man asked next to her.
She turned and saw a man about her age standing just behind her.
Shaking her head, she shrugged. “Beautiful photos,” she said, keeping her voice low because the presentation was still going on.
“Yeah, well, they should probably stick to photos of scenery,” he replied with a friendly smile. “No insult intended, but I’ve been to quite a few of these with them. And they really are clueless.” He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “I saw you walk in, so you missed that just a few minutes ago they shared the sounds of ghost chickens on their EVPs.”
Mary quickly covered her mouth with her hand to hold back a chuckle. “It could happen,” she finally remarked.
He smiled at her and shook his head. “We went out to check on it ourselves,” he whispered. “There was a farm about a quarter of a mile away with chickens. They were picking up those sounds on their equipment.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mary said.
“Well, really, a lot of this investigating relies on the kind of equipment you own,” he said as he pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket. “Our investigation team works with an equipment developer. We kind of beta test his meters and scopes. I think they’re the best I’ve ever used.”
Mary glanced down at the card and saw it held the website of Mystic Meters, Inc., a division of Ollie Elverson’s Electronics. Well, it was a better name than FART. “Thanks. I’ll look into them if I need equipment,” she said, knowing she would never need it.
“Well, if you buy something during the conference, I’ll let you use my discount,” he offered, smiling widely and then winking at her.
Taken slightly aback, Mary studied him. Okay, it’s obvious I’m both pregnant and married, she thought. Why is he flirting with me? Does he actually think a wink is going to get me to buy his equipment?
“Well, okay,” she said with a fake smile. “Thanks.” She started to move away, but he pivoted and blocked her. Her raised eyebrow and steady gaze caused his smile to falter just a bit.
“Excuse me,” she said, no longer smiling. “I need to get back to my team.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the table were Stanley and Rosie were sitting and shrugged. “They can wait,” he said with an engaging smile, dismissing her request. “This is important.”
Surprised at his boldness, she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. It can’t wait,” she said. “And whatever you have to say to me is not important. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She started to move around him when he placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her. “If you’ll…” he started to insist.
Turning, Mary met his eyes. “You don’t know who I am or what I do,” she said evenly. “And perhaps you think that strong-arming a woman is a good sales tactic. I can tell you it’s not. And if you don’t remove your hand from my shoulder and step away from me right now, I will either bring you up on harassment charges or lay you out on the ground in front of the entire conference. Your choice.”
His hand quickly dropped away. “You can’t…”
She cocked her head slightly, her deliberate stare daring him to say one more word. “Try me,” she whispered.
“Okay, well then,” he stammered stepping back. “If you have any questions, you know, just call me.”
With a disgusted sigh, Mary turned away and headed back to the tables.
“I reckoned I was going see myself a fight out there,” Stanley chuckled softly when she reached the table. “That idiot didn’t know who he was messing with.”
“I told Stanley that he should have gone over and helped you,” Rosie said, hurrying over and pulling out a chair for Mary.
Stanley grinned. “And I told her you didn’t need no help,” he said with a confident nod. “And that bully needed to learn that women can stand up fer themselves without men always interfering.”
Mary hugged Rosie, sat down and turned to Stanley. “Thank you,” she said. “It felt good to make him back down. But, really, he was an ass. Trying to sell me ghost hunting equipment.”
Stanley chuckled. “I’m guessing he won’t try that again.”
“He’d better not,” Mary said, the fire in her belly beginning to mellow. “And I nearly forgot what I was coming back here to do.” She motioned for Ian and Dee to join them, and they both came over. “Bradley called me a few minutes ago. He found Sven going through Dee’s room looking for something.”
“What?” Dee asked. “What was he looking for?”
“Footage,” Mary replied. “Someone approached Sven about some footage you shot, and he wanted to sell it to them.”
“Why didn’t he just ask me?” Dee asked.
“My boy is so sweet,” Gwen said, appearing next to Mary, her arms crossed over her chest and shaking her head. “But sometimes he is just too trusting, and sometimes he’s just a plain, old fool.”
Chapter Thirty-five
“So, what’s on the asylum footage that’s so important?” Ian mused aloud.
Dee shook his head. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “I mean, I haven’t reviewed all of it, but I was there. Nothing happened. No orbs, no EVPs, no EMPs. Everything was flat-lined.”
Ian shrugged. “With what I’ve seen of it so far,” he said, “I agree with you. I can’t see anything of interest unless someone wants footage of a totally empty, decrepit building.”
“We’re missing something,” Mary said. “People don’t pay money for nothing.”
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by applause, and they turned to see the last presenters smiling and waving at the crowd before they turned and walked off the stage.
“I like them,” Mary said. “They seemed to love what they do.”
“Yeah, they are good people,” Dee said. “Not showy, just good, solid investigators. They’ve gotten some really interesting things.”
“Chicken ghosts?” Mary asked.
Dee grinned. “Okay, there was that,” he said. “But all of us have had our chicken ghost moments. It just comes with the territory. When you have to rely on equipment for all of your information, you make mistakes like that.”
Mary thought about the confrontation she just had. “So, the right equipment’s vital?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Dee replied. “If you don’t have good equipment, you’re pretty much dead in the water.” He smiled. “Excuse the pun.”
“Excuse me. Excuse me,” Kathi’s voice echoed throughout the auditorium. “I just have a quick announcement.”
Mary’s group turned toward the stage to listen.
“On your programs it shows that we have a thirty-minute break before our next presentation,” she explained. “But one of our vendors, Mystic Meters, has a very short presentation they want to share with you. So, we’re going to let them take about five minutes, and then you’ll be free for twenty-five minutes before the n
ext presentation. Thanks, everyone.”
She got off the stage, and an older gentleman with a trim goatee and a tweed jacket stepped up to the podium.
“That’s what a Scottish professor is supposed to look like,” Mary whispered to Ian with a grin.
He looked down at her and then back at the gentleman, nodding slowly. “Ach, well then, I’ll be sure to take notes.”
The gentleman reached out and tapped his fingers against the microphone, sending electronic thumps reverberating around the room. “So, I guess it’s working,” he said with a smile, and the audience responded with laughter. “I’m Ollie Elverson, and I’m the head electrical engineer and owner of Mystic Meters. I am grateful to Kathi for allowing us to sneak in and make this short presentation. We wanted to do it directly after the last presenters while their slides and recordings were fresh in your mind.”
Mary glanced at the couple who had just presented. They had stopped putting away their equipment and turned toward the stage, obviously confused.
The older gentleman smiled kindly at the couple. “I’ve been following your work,” he said to them. “I was so taken by it that I decided to conduct an experiment using my new paranormal research equipment in the same areas you’ve done your investigations.”
He pressed a remote, and the screen was filled with the same farmhouse the couple had just shown. “If you remember,” he said, “in their presentation, there were a number of very interesting orbs floating in this room.”
He pressed the remote button again, and the screen displayed a photo that was very similar to the one they’d just shown, including the orbs.
“How did he do that?” Mary whispered to Ian. “This looks just like their photo.”
“Similar conditions, same camera view,” he whispered back. “But someone had to be watching this group pretty closely to be this precise.”
“You mean spying on,” Mary said.
He met her eyes and nodded.
“Now, this photo is generated using one of our old infrared cameras,” Ollie continued. “Let me show you the view using our new IRED9000, a groundbreaking tool for paranormal research.”
With a click of his hand, the screenshot changed, and the clarity of the picture intensified. “If you’ll note,” Ollie said, using a red laser pointer to highlight the screen, “each of these orbs can now be distinguished to reveal what they really are.”
He pointed at the first orb and then pressed the remote. The screen changed to zoom in on the area. “As you can see,” Ollie said, his voice gently sarcastic, “our new camera is able to show that rather than a paranormal experience, this was more of an arachnoid experience.” His red pointer pointed out the spider dangling from a web in the middle of the room. “A common mistake when you are using equipment that has limited functionality.”
“Ouch,” Dee whispered. “This guy is cruel.”
Ollie smiled at the audience. “I promised Kathi that I would only take five minutes,” he said. “So, I won’t show you the other zoomed in photos, but suffice it to say, none were paranormal. And if you come over to our booth, we’ll be happy to share the evidence with you. But there is one more photo I would like to share.”
He clicked the screen, and the crowd gasped at the photo in front of them. It was a translucent, full-bodied apparition standing slightly off to the side of where the original photo was taken. It looked like a thin man, slightly stooped over, reaching for something on a shelf.
“We were able to catch this magnificent photo with the use of the IRED9000, but more importantly, with our state-of-the-art EFP9150 meter,” he explained. “The meter is so highly developed that it could discern the presence of this ghost, and even though he was not visible to the naked eye, we could record his presence.” He smiled apologetically to the last presenters. “Unfortunately, your equipment just couldn’t pick him up.”
“Wow, good sales pitch,” Dee said softly. “I want one of those cameras. And one of those meters.”
“Well, that’s all the time I have,” Ollie said, clicking off the photo. “If you have any questions, I’ll be at our booth with answers.” He chuckled at his own joke and left the stage followed by thunderous applause.
The crowd surged in the direction of the Mystic Meter booth, but Mary’s attention was drawn to the last presenters who seemed to be packing up their equipment. “I’ll be right back,” she said to the group.
Chapter Thirty-six
Slipping through the crowd heading the other way, Mary approached the older couple packing away their displays. They looked up, their expressions tight. “Can we help you?” the older man asked, his tone belying his words.
Shaking her head, Mary smiled. “No. I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed your presentation,” she said. “And from the beauty of your last photos, I could understand why that farmer didn’t want to leave.”
Their expressions softened, and they both smiled. “Thank you,” the woman said. “I’m Betty, and this is my husband, Nick.”
“Hi,” Mary said. “I’m Mary O’Reilly Alden.” She nodded in the direction of her table. “We’re new this year.”
“Oh, you’re…” Betty clapped her hand over her mouth.
Mary laughed. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you decide your name on the fly,” she said.
Nick joined in her laughter. “That’s why, me and Betty, we’re just B&N Investigations. Didn’t have to be creative or nothing.”
“Well, that was brilliant,” Mary admitted. There was an awkward silence for a moment.
“I just wanted to come by,” Mary finally said. “I kind of felt, well, that last presentation was a little rude. And I wanted to let you know that I thought your presentation was great.”
“Have to admit, the guy was impressive,” Nick said.
“I don’t have to admit anything of the kind,” Betty said. “Besides, what was he doing, hiding in a closet to get those same photos?”
Mary nodded. “I was wondering the same thing myself,” she said. “Would anyone on your team…”
Betty shook her head. “No, we’re all family,” she said. “No one would bother to spy. If they wanted something, they would have just asked. Hell, if old Mr. Ollie pants had wanted, he could have come along with us. If he’d asked.”
“Well, that would have been the professional thing to do, in my opinion,” Mary said. “But it still doesn’t explain how he knew you would be there or how you’d set up.”
“Yeah, and I even downloaded a free video about his equipment,” Nick said with disgust.
Betty turned to her husband. “You did what?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It was going to be an anniversary surprise,” he admitted. “I was going to get us one of those new meters.”
“Well, that man is not going to get a penny of our hard-earned money,” Betty replied. “Not after what he did.”
“How did you sign up?” Mary asked.
“Like everything else,” Nick said. “Through my tablet.”
“And when you search for sites,” Mary continued, “do you use that same tablet?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but powerful, so it pretty much goes where we go,” he said. “We even run our equipment through it on our searches.”
“Do you have it with you?” Mary asked.
Nick pulled it out of a backpack hung on the back of his chair and held it up. “Here it is,” he said.
“Do me a favor,” she said. “Go to your settings and click on the privacy icon.”
He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, you younger folks seem to know a lot more about these things than we do,” he said. He pressed a few buttons and then looked up. “Okay, now what?”
“Click on location services,” Mary replied. “There should be a list of applications that will show whether you have location services turned on or off for them.”
Nick scanned the list. “Well, I’ll be dammed,” he said, turning the tablet around so both
Betty and Mary could see it. “Mystic Meters application with location services turned on. How did that happen?”
“Probably came with the ‘free video’,” Mary said, mimicking quotation signs with her hands. “They’ve been tracking you and probably picked you out because they knew they were coming to this conference.”
“So, they’ve got patsies all over the country,” Betty said. “And they pull this crap on them, too.”
Mary nodded. “And they probably pick people who they think won’t make a fuss,” she said, her anger growing. “This is so wrong.”
“Well, there’s not a lot we can do about it,” Nick said.
“Maybe not,” Mary replied, putting together a plan. “But maybe there is. Would you mind giving me the address of the farm?”
Betty reached into her purse. “Not only the address,” she said. “I still got an extra set of keys. It’s abandoned, but it’s only a twenty minute drive north of here.”
Mary took the keys and smiled at the couple. “Make sure you stay for the rest of the conference,” she said. “It might get a little interesting.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
“You want to do what?” Bradley asked Mary as they sat together at a lunch table in the cafeteria on the lower level of the conference center. The conference room had been cleared of the audience and shut down for thirty minutes so presenters and vendors had an opportunity to grab some lunch.
Mary put her hot dog back down on her plate and picked up a chip. “You know how I hate bullies,” she said, nibbling on the corner of the chip. “I just want to go out to that farm, walk around a little bit and see if we can’t find a little something to help Betty and Nick.”
“Who?” Dee asked, pulling up a chair next to them and placing his plate on the table.
“Betty and Nick. B&N Investigations,” she said.
“The dead chicken people?” Dee asked.
Bradley looked at his wife. “Dead chicken people?” he asked.
