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“Don’t say it,” Dev warned.
She raised a brow and quirked her lip. “What? Don’t say that show headed by Z—”
“Don’t you do it,” he interrupted with a growl.
Hanlen winked and then patted him on the ass as she made her way over to me. “He’s so salty with that one.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “Ever since he dissed him on national television.”
“He took my job, Hanlen! He knew we were going through some shit and took Buckner Mansion right out from under us. He has an entire freaking country and beyond to work with. We’reHaunted New Orleans.New. Orleans. Our area is in the show’s godsdamn name. We do Louisiana and the occasional emergency out of state.”
He closed his eyes and blew a breath out his nose. “And he had the audacity to say—on national television—that we don’t do things therightway. And then went on record in that interview saying that Van and Lennie stole tech from his guys. That’s absolute bullshit. Aside from the things that every team on every show uses, all our stuff is custom. And his show doesn’t even have engineers on staff. They outsource everything.” He shook his head. “Uh-uh. We shall not speak his name. I really kinda want to hex him.”
I laughed. Itwaspretty messed up, and the bromance was most definitely no more. They used to be friends. We all used to hang out with the cast and crew of a bunch of the major paranormal reality shows all the time when we found ourselves in the same areas or at conventions. Now, it was some weird feud, and it seemed to be spreading. Honestly, if anyone were to ask me for my opinion, I would say it was the fact that our contract got extended, and our ratings skyrocketed even more after Arborwood—and they were good to begin with. Jealousy was an interesting thing.
“You two should really just hug it out,” I said and smirked when Dev shot me a glare.
Just as Hanlen and I fist-bumped, Pax walked in with a massive box of French doughnuts and a bunch of drinks. I rushed over to help.
“Geez, did you buy the entire place out?”
“Pretty much,” he said and held out the stack for me to take the tray on top. I grabbed it, and we headed over to the table to set everything down. The cardboard had barely made contact with the surface before I had the straw jammed in my mouth and took a huge gulp.
“Mmm, that’s the stuff.”
Pax snorted and popped the top on his black coffee before taking a sip. “It is pretty good. But I’m starving, and fully leaded on an empty stomach is never a great idea. When is everyone getting here?”
“They should be here soon,” Hanlen said as she came in with Myst, Dev following close behind with Lennie and Van’s new device in hand.
“Yeah, a couple of them just texted me,” Dev agreed. “Go ahead and eat something, Padre. Nobody’s gonna care.”
Less than forty minutes later, the entire cast and crew was packed into the mansion’s dining room, stuffing their faces with beignets and fueling with chicory coffee—or in some cases, tea. I would never understand the tea fascination. It was dirty water. I mean, I could maketeaby putting some weeds from my front lawn in some hot water, popping in a packet of artificial sweetener, and calling it good. But . . . to each their own.
I’d stick to some good ‘ol café au lait that stuck to my ribs. But then again, me drinking only cold coffee could be seen as bizarre by some. My mom thought I was addled. She told me that in her and Dad’s day, drinking cold coffee would have been considered sacrilegious. That was what microwaves and stove-top percolators were for. My argument? It was like drinking mud from the Hell’s Gate natural spa in New Zealand. But as one of the most powerful natural healing places on Earth, that might actually be good for you. Radioactive sludge from Mr. Coffee seemed like Montezuma’s Revenge waiting to happen. Just saying.
Harper filled us in on some of the research she was following up on regarding the house. Aaron and James took us through some of the things they had planned for filler shots and told us where they needed each of us and when they wanted to get some of the footage. Turner went over the locations of all the static and trail cameras so we knew what we’d be working with, and then Lennie and Van showed us the new gear. They called it theJumpBoxas a nod to their namesake band, Van Halen, and a play on the fact that it might, indeed, scare the piss out of some people. I kind of appreciated that.
“Okay, so,” Van said, “we started with the concept of Steve Huff’s Wonder Box, the instrumental trans-communication device that scans radio frequencies and adds reverb, using the results tosupposedlyhelp spirits communicate easier during electronic voice phenomena sessions. Then, we tweaked it to be more tonally realistic to the ear so you could distinguish between male and female energies better.” He explained some more.
I nodded, impressed by the technology, still not so sure about the application. From what I could gather, though, the super twins had enabled it to use a much larger sound bank to expand the possibilities, getting rid of all the clicking and static and feedback usually present with devices of that type along the way, and then also enhanced it to connect to an integrated tablet to show text output of what was being said and keep a log on the device’s hard drive. As a team, we spent hours going over EVP recordings, trying to decipher what we may have heard—if anything. If Lennie’s software and Van’s hardware could cut that work in halfandmake it more interesting and pleasing for both us and the viewers, it would be amazing.
After that, we split into teams. Pax, Dakota, and I took the second floor to do our initial investigations and walk-throughs and let Dakota work her psychic mojo, whatever that entailed. Turner had mounted cameras there, complete with night vision for when things really got underway, but we’d also each have a Handycam.
Dev, Hanlen, and Myst took the bedroom suites on the ground floor with James.
Aaron went with Larken into the screwed-up back area so she could do what she needed to do with the chest in the storage space and get some impressions there.
Van and Lennie stayed in the control room with Turner to monitor the cameras and let us know if anything needed to be adjusted or if they saw or heard anything, and Harper took off to see to a couple of patients and continue her research on the house and its earlier inhabitants.
We’d pick a group to take the third floor and the attic later in the investigation.
“Everybody clear on what we need to do?” Dev asked, and we all nodded.
“I’m so excited to be involved from the start with this,” Hanlen said as she squatted to give Myst some love. “And I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.” She laughed. “This time last year, I was in Texas and thought all of this was bullshit.”
“Not too long ago, you almostdied,” Dev said, and we all looked at him. “What? It’s true, and I don’t think ignoring the fact is healthy. I’m sure if Harper were here, she’d agree with me. I’m grateful that everything that happened brought us together,”—he smiled at Hanlen—“but I could have done without the whole serial-killer-taking-my-girlfriend-hostage thing.”
Hanlen stepped towards him and rose on tiptoe to give him a kiss. “I’m fine, babe. You were the hero. As always.”
“Uh, actually,” Dev said and looked at me, “Sky kinda saved the day. If she hadn’t busted in, guns blazing—literally—who knows what might have happened?”
