by Lotta Smith
“It was so warm, bordering on hot,” I interjected.
“Hey, Swanson!” Adam called out to one of the staff, and a young guy who looked almost like a high school student came running.
“Yes?”
As Adam explained his plan to shoot outside the studio, Swanson nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. We’ve got more than enough cables to reach there.”
“Good.” Pumping his fists, Adam walked toward the shivering girls. “All right, everyone, let’s get out of this freezing hell and get our hands working in the warm corridor!”
“That’s great,” one of the girls said between the chattering of her teeth.
“So true,” another girl said, and all the young women in swimsuits nodded.
“Okay, let’s go.” Swanson led them to the door. Considering they were wearing really high heels that must be handy when they had to change lightbulbs, the women walked really fast.
“Thank you, Rowling.” Adam grinned.
“No problem.” Rick nodded.
“Seriously? Couldn’t he have come up with this plan on his own?” Jackie commented.
“Good thing they showed up when they did,” Tina said.
“Right.” Adam nodded and then cocked his head. “So, what brings you here?”
“Actually, we have an appointment to talk to you about the game show with hypnosis,” Rick explained, filling him in with the date the show was broadcasted and the winners’ names.
“Oh, that show?” Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Yep, this is the same studio where we shot that episode. Man, that one was epic. Who could’ve guessed that the guy could actually be put under hypnosis?” His nostrils flared excitedly as he talked.
“So, was that show real?” Rick asked. “I thought everything was staged.”
“Actually, everything was real. The hubby wasn’t a former actor or anything like that.” Adam shrugged. “Had he been acting, then naturally he should quit his job and pursue a career in Hollywood. Seriously, such a natural actor is impossible to come by.”
“Oh, okay.” Rick nodded and looked at the studio thoughtfully.
“Adam, we’re ready to shoot,” Swanson called out.
“Coming!” Adam yelled and turned to us. “Rowling, Mandy, will you excuse me for a moment while we shoot the show?”
“Sure,” Rick and I said in unison, prompting Adam to chuckle.
“Wow!”
“What?” Rick eyed his high school classmate.
“Nothing. It’s just that I’m simply amazed to see how drastically you have changed, Rowling. I’ve been skeptical about a man deciding to exclusively sleep with just one special woman, and I never expected you to make such a vow.” Grinning, Adam patted Rick’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later.” He ran out of the freezing studio.
“Hmm… talk about drastic changes,” Rick muttered when Adam was out of earshot. “He used to be the dorky kid with thick Coke-bottle glasses, and now he’s acting like the most eligible bachelor.”
“He’s acting like a playboy because he used to be the dorky kid in high school,” Jackie analyzed.
It was getting colder and colder, and my breath turned white when I exhaled. “Let’s get out of here. It’s so cold.” I reached for his arm.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Rick took my hand and we headed for the door.
But then I caught someone saying, “Please… don’t go….”
I stopped walking. “Rick, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Someone pleading for us not to go,” I said, glancing at Jackie. “That voice wasn’t yours, was it?”
“No, I didn’t say that.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t catch the voice. Mandy, are you sure you heard that?”
“Well, I don’t know….” Shaking my head, I looked around the studio to see if anyone was left behind, but we were the only people in the freezing studio. “That’s so strange. The voice sounded so real.” As I tilted my head, I felt a sudden burst of coldness and sneezed. “Oops, excuse me.”
“Let’s leave here before any of us catches a cold, okay?” Rick pulled me closer and resumed walking.
“You have a point,” I agreed.
Jackie muttered, “Being alive has its perks, but apparently getting sick isn’t one of them.”
Then I heard the same voice again.
“Don’t leave us here. Please!”
That time, the voice was so much louder and clearer that I could determine its owner as a young girl, perhaps in her early- to mid-teens.
“Oh my God, Mandy, you were right.” Jackie’s eyes widened. “Someone said, ‘Please don’t leave us here.’”
“What?” Rick turned to me. “Are you okay?” His face was serious.
“I’m good. I just heard that voice again. I think it’s a girl’s voice, and this time, Jackie heard it too,” I told Rick. Then I called out, “Hello? Anybody here?”
“Hello?” Rick joined me. “Where are you? If you’re here, speak up so the lady here can hear you, okay?”
“We’re here,” the same voice responded.
“Here,” said another voice—another young girl.
And another different voice joined in. “Please… I’m here.”
“I hear three different voices—all of them are girls.”
“Three girls?” Rick furrowed his eyebrows. “Like… the three missing girls?”
Before I could answer, one of the girls repeated, “Please don’t go.”
“We’ll be good—really, really good.”
“Please don’t leave us here.”
Between the pleading words, I heard what appeared to be weeping and hiccups. And even though I couldn’t see them, I knew the voices were real. Of course, considering that we were in a TV studio, I could’ve suspected something like special effects or a simple prank, but the voices were so full of desperation, panic, and despair. And despite the volume of the voices, Rick didn’t hear them.
“Ladies, can you tell me your names?” I said. It would’ve been better if I could make out the direction the voices were coming from, but they sounded more like they were talking directly into my brain.
“What did they say?” Rick asked.
“They’re not talking.” I shook my head.
“Meghan, Lucy, Skyler-Mizuki… are you there?” Jackie said in her clear voice, trained throughout her years in Broadway, but no answer.
“Mandy, Rick… what are you doing here?” Tina peeked inside, waving at us. “The shooting is about to start. Can you guys step out of this freezer?”
“Sure.” Rick raised a hand at her. “Let’s go.”
As he practically dragged me out of the studio, I was cold to the bones.
CHAPTER 6
“All right, everyone! Let’s roll!” the director’s voice boomed as the girls in swimsuits strutted down the long corridor. “Good… this is so fine. Now everyone, raise your knees, shake your hips, and smiiiile!”
The slender girls who had previously been shivering like a bunch of wet cats were now all smiles. They looked like they were having a blast.
One side of the long corridor was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the place with plenty of light, and it was so warm it felt like the beginning of the summer.
“Thanks for the tip, Rowling,” Adam said, smiling fondly at the girls, who giggled as they strutted past. “Compared to the hellhole of the freezing studio, it’s like heaven.”
“Good thing we’re here. Lucky you.” Rick chuckled. “Hey, you’re really enjoying your job, huh? I remember you staring at the girls playing tennis all afternoon.”
“Oh, the girls’ school right next to ours?” Adam tilted his head to the side.
“Yup. Now you’ve got a good excuse to look at young women in swimwear all day long. Congrats,” Rick said in a tone that covered his sarcasm with nonchalant half-heartedness.
“Seriously?” Jackie rolled her eyes as Adam laughed so hard he threw back his head.
“Ah, memories.” Adam spread his arms, as if channeling some musical star on Broadway. “Those days, I like to call the days of innocence. Speaking of innocence, I have a hunch that these girls look young and pure, but they’re hiding their secret vamps.”
Rick shrugged. “Like some kind of femme fatales? For me, they look like a bunch of models giving it their best shot to grab whatever role they can reach.”
“That’s boring.” Adam harrumphed. “I like to see them as women with hidden secrets. Look, mystery is what makes already beautiful women even more so.” He flashed a cocky grin.
I thought Jackie would start gagging or something, but she tilted her head, muttering, “Oh my God, I think I’m getting used to seeing his behavior… and for a brief moment, I thought he was cute in his own way when I looked at him in a certain angle.”
I subtly shook my head.
Rick cleared his throat. “By the way, we’re here to ask you about the game show.”
“Oh yeah. That show.” Adam nodded. “I’d love to say, ‘Feel free to ask me anything about it,’ but truth be told, I’m not the real producer in charge of it. The guy who’s actually in charge had an appendectomy, and I worked on it just once as the pinch hitter.”
“Hmm… okay.” Rick rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “We want to know something about the particular episode you took charge of.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?” Adam crossed his arms. “By the way, I’d never imagined you turning into a guy who brings his wife to his workplace.”
“Well, we’re working on a cold case in which—”
As Rick started to explain, the director called out, “Everyone, silence please!” and Adam indicated the folding chairs, prompting us to sit down.
“Look at the girls in swimsuits,” Jackie said, lowering her voice. “Each girl are gonna start introducing themselves.
“So, Miss Number One, please step out and tell us a little bit about yourself.”
“Hi, I’m Andrea Weirs. I perform rhythmic sportive gymnastics. I’ve been studying it since I was seven.” A perky woman with platinum-blonde hair came running out carrying a ball. She swept it over her body, twisting herself to emphasize her cleavage.
She dropped the ball a few times during the performance, but she was welcomed with warm applause.
“That was awesome!” the director exclaimed. “All right then, it’s your turn, Miss Number Two. What are you up to showing us?”
“Hi, I’m Ginny Sylvester. I’ll dance ballet.” Another slender woman—this one a brunette—stepped out and started to twirl around wearing just a tiny bikini.
All of a sudden, I felt the same chill that had permeated the studio.
I shivered a little.
“It’s getting cold out here.” Jackie rubbed herself with both hands.
“Do you feel cold when you’re a ghost?” I whispered, slightly surprised.
“Of course I do.” She glanced at the studio. “Oh… that’s strange.”
As I followed her gaze, I found the door to the studio ajar—even though the last time I saw it, it was shut tightly. On top of that, what looked like white fog was seeping out.
“Something is going to happen,” I muttered.
“What?” Rick pulled me closer, his cheek brushing mine.
“Don’t you feel it? I think another blast of cold air is coming from—”
Before I finished the sentence, an extremely cold wind shot through the corridor, reaching for the spacious lobby where Ginny was dancing.
“Ow!” As the strong blast of cold air blasted, Ginny’s footing grew wobbly. She stumbled against the floor-to-ceiling glass. “What’s this coldness? Oh my God, I’m freezing!” she shrieked, then crawled to the edge of the lobby where the light was still coming in.
“Ginny, are you okay?” the director asked concernedly. She was turning paler and paler.
“Oh my God, this is not good,” Jackie muttered. Something white and shapeless was reaching for Ginny, about to wrap her in its fuzzy cloud-like elements.
“You’ve got to move her from this place,” I called out, but by that time, the cold air had shaped itself into a white, cotton-candy-like cloud.
“What the hell is going on?” Adam exclaimed.
Everyone seemed to be stunned, and no one was moving.
“Come with me.” Rick took my hand and scurried toward Ginny, who was crouched into a ball and shaking like she was pulsating. He took off his jacket and eyed me for assistance.
I helped cover her with the jacket and stood up. One of the female staff came running toward us, literally sweeping Ginny off the floor and taking her away from the cold window area.
“You need to warm her up,” Rick warned.
I turned back to take a look at the window.
Within a moment, the glass fogged and formed the shape of a human—like a white foggy shadow.
“Don’t go!”
The piercing cry boomed in my head—no, it wasn’t just booming in my head. Assuming from the women shrieking in apparent fear and one of the staff of the show muttering, “What was that cry?” I wasn’t the only person who heard it.
For a moment, I stopped breathing as I stared at the glass, completely captivated by the shadowlike fog.
In the white shadow, drops of water trickled down in streams.
“They look like tears,” I muttered.
“Yes, you’re right,” Jackie agreed. “They are tears… the tears of the three missing girls. I don’t know why, but I just feel that way.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been worried about someone catching me talking to nothing, but the situation was anything but normal.
Instead of asking me who I was talking to, someone exclaimed, “What’s going on?”
As if on cue, one of the models shrieked and others followed suit.
The streams of clear liquid trickling down the glass had morphed into a thick red liquid that looked exactly like blood.
The small streams of blood joined together, forming a bigger river.
“Mandy, stay away from the glass!” Rick warned me. I caught his words, but I wasn’t really listening.
Like a bug lured by the bright light of the flame, I approached the glass.
“Watch out! Stay back!” Adam screamed.
Instead of following their words, I went closer, watching the red liquid trickling down. As I got closer, I could smell the scent of blood.
“What are you doing?” Rick came running to me. Clasping my arm, he looked like he wanted to sweep me off the floor and back to a safe distant from the almost-arctic area by the glass.
I looked at him and shook my head, then reached for the glass. A part of me was almost desperate to touch it, but the rational part of me kept me from making physical contact. Touching blood was not only gross, but the risk of infection was more than scary. I suspected that the blood was going to disappear at some point, but touching it was a whole different story.
“I know you want to tell me something,” I whispered to the bloodied glass wall. “Where are you right now? Please tell me. I’m listening, and I want to help you.”
Jackie sucked in air. “The blood is disappearing.”
I took my handkerchief out of my purse and wiped the blood off the glass. To my surprise, the pink handkerchief was smeared in crimson—just like when you wiped off real blood.
The white shadow appeared on the window, and again I felt the coldness. Before I was able to react, a huge crack ran across the yards of glass.
That time, Rick didn’t wait for my answer. “Step back, Mandy!” He grabbed me at the waist and jumped back.
The next moment, the wall of glass shattered into pieces.
“Watch out!”
I heard people screaming, and Jackie was one of them. “Oh my God, oh my God, ohmigod!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Mandy, are you all right?”
Then the floor shook as everyone attempted to get the hell out of the place in a panic.
“Rick, are you okay?” I asked as he protectively held me in his arms. “Don’t get hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he replied and stood up. Helping me get to my feet and gently brushing off the shards of glass, he muttered, “Good thing we’re both still in one piece.”
“Ooh, Mandy!” Jackie cooed. “I was worried sick about you! When I saw the shards raining over you and Rick, I tried to use my willpower to scatter the sharp pieces away from you, but I’m not really sure if I was being any help.”
She was babbling, and her pale ghostly face was slightly blushing.
I noticed the pink stone of the ring on her finger sparkling. It was the ring that was granted to her for successfully completing the courses in postmortem criminal psychology and obtaining the certificate of crisis intervention counselor, level one.
“No worries. You’ve been a great help for us,” I said, smiling. “Look at your ring. The pink stone is shining. The last time it sparkled like this, you were a lot of help for me, you know.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the ring. “How sweet. To tell the truth, I haven’t fully grasped the power of this ring. The professor said every ring would develop a different type of power depending on its owner, and mine still has some mysteries.”
“You know what? Mystery always makes a woman even more beautiful,” I whispered, prompting her to flash a thumbs-up.
While Jackie and I were chatting—other people were completely preoccupied with their own well-being, literally running away, so I didn’t bother with pretending to have a phone call—Rick was observing the shards of glass scattered all over the place.
“Can I take a look at your handkerchief?” he asked abruptly.
“Sure.” I handed it over, half expecting to see no trace of blood. But when I looked down, the originally pale pink handkerchief was smeared with a reddish-brown something that appeared to be caked blood.
“Wow, it looks like real blood.” Rick’s eyebrows shot up. “Which means the part about bloody something running down the glass wall wasn’t some byproduct of a daydream.”
“Exactly.” I nodded.
“Mandy, Rowling… are you guys okay?” Adam asked, coming toward us. His expression was a mixture of puzzlement, panic, and fear.
