Page 64 of Ghost in the Night

We huddle together, watching the door, waiting for him to appear.

But it’s not Asher. It’s the blonde lady.

Britney.

And she’s holding a knife.

NINETEEN

Theflashlight reflecting off the sharp blade has me in a choke hold. I can’t seem to move or think.

Britney is taller than I remember. Bigger. Like she could be in the WNBA or something. Thick blonde hair so long it touches her butt. And with a knife in her hand, she looks like a monster.

I turn to Jabari. “She killed your uncle?”

Jabari nods slow, half  hiding behind Myah, who stares in disbelief.

“Who is this lady?” Myah snaps.

“I work with Asher,” Britney says with a slick smile. “Or used to.”

I think back to the night of the tour. She seemed so regular, so mousy, so … not crazy.

“Why did you kill Mr. Truman?” Myah snaps. “What did he do to you?”

Britney sighs, twirling her knife around. “Asher and I, we had a chance to pitch our own ghost TV show,” she explains, sounding almost excited to tell us. “But the producers said they only were willing to come to Savannah for something NEW and exciting. So, we made up a whole new story about a house in Calhoun Square. Told them some old slave was buried underneath here, causing all kinds of disturbances. I figured we’d do what we do best, make magic, just like on our tours. And with a house like this, in the middle of Savannah’s most haunted square, it tracks. But Asher …”

“He didn’t want to do it?” I say.

She shakes her head. “He said it wouldn’t be ‘authentic.’ Ha! Like we ever were. I get paid every night to come on tour and show our doctored-up pictures of ghost attacksand pretend to fall. We’re making a killing! So, I said I would do it on my own. I have the connections.”

Something dawns on me, and I take a step forward.

“There is no Myers ghost, either, is there?”

Britney chuckles. “No. We made all that stuff up. No one named Myers ever even lived here. This place was just old and abandoned.”

My hands ball into fists as tears threaten to stream down my face. I can’t believe it. We’ve literally been chasing a lead to nowhere.

“But come on! This house is perfectly creepy,” Britney says with a laugh, glancing around. “Anyway, in order to make our new story believable, I knew we needed one witness to back up our claim. And a Black historian, in a square known for being a burial ground for slaves … that’s television gold! So I asked Tim Truman for a little help. People definitely would’ve believed him. All he had to do was go along with our story that haints haunted the Myers House and drove everybody crazy.”

“So why did you kill him?” I mumble.

Britney sniffs. “That night … Tim and I had agreed tomeet here, at the house. I was gonna tell him all the ways we were going to pull this off. But he came and told me he wasn’t going through with my plan, that it was wrong to lie about his ancestors just for money. He said he planned to reach out to the producers himself and tell them the truth.”

“He didn’t want you disrespecting the ancestors,” Jabari shouts through tears, Myah holding him back. “That meant everything to him.”

“There are ghosts all over this city!” Britney snaps. “One more story wouldn’t have hurt anybody. I had the costumes, the makeup, all the props and gadgets we needed to make it look real. I’d asked Tim to come to the house, so he could see for himself. But he just wouldn’t listen.” Britney’s eyes bulge. “The TV show was going to be my big break. My chance to stop playing these bit parts, always the side character, never the lead. A chance to prove to my family that I’m onto something big so they’d stop looking at me like I’m some failure. And he was going to ruin everything!”

Myah stares in disgust. “You didn’t have to kill Mr. Truman! He was a good man.”

Britney shakes her head again, her eyes flooding withtears. “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident! We started arguing and I tried to stop him, to make him listen. I pushed him and he fell. Hit his head on one of the stones in the basement. Gone just like that. I had to move him, get him out of the house, or this place would have been a crime scene and the producers would’ve lost interest. But I didn’t know that nosy kid had followed us. I didn’t know he was here or even missing until it came up on the news. He must have been hiding in the shadows like a ninja or something.” She glances at me. “And when Asher told me about the picture you took on the ghost tour, I realized the kid must have still been hiding in here.”

“So Asher knows about everything?” I gasp.

She scoffs, shaking her head. “Not at first, but I called him that night. I told him to meet me here, then help me move the body, or I’d tell everyone he was involved, and like I said, my family runs this city. No one was gonna believe his word against mine. I told him that we shouldn’t do tours in Calhoun Square anymore, it was too risky. But he swore that if we didn’t carry on as usual, it would look suspicious. ’Cause what ghost tour doesn’t go to CalhounSquare?! Your uncle knew that well,” she tells Jabari. “Gosh, he would’ve made SO much money, and I even would’ve put in a good word with my father and the city council to change the square’s name, just like Tim always wanted. It would’ve been a win-win for both of us!”

City council? Wait! Her name is Britney Preston. She must be in the Preston family!