AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did you see the readings on the tri-field meter?” Jay jerked his thumb toward the “ghost-hunting” equipment that Clyde used. “It detected some crazy electrical fluctuations. We’ll want to get that on camera.”
Adam nodded. Though the electromagnetic field meters were the bane of his existence as a scientific consultant—any device reputed to measure paranormal energy fields was a waste of both money and time—the show often used the fluctuations as a good way to support a “haunted” claim.
“I’ll write it into the script,” he said.
After they went over the plans for the next shoot, he closed himself off in the conference room for the rest of the morning. Not because he was trying to avoid the distraction of Bee—or so he told himself—but because he needed to finish reviewing the footage and audio and call the producers to assure them that everything was on track.
“We already got some passable footage of activity,” he told them. “A few more nights here and we should have a good haunted storyline.”
“What’ve you got?” the executive producer, Dan, called into a speakerphone.
“Some unexplained shadows and light anomalies, and a thumping noise on one of the recorders.”
“What about the EFMs?” another producer, Kevin, asked.
“Lots of fluctuations, especially on the tri-field meter. We’ll get it on camera tonight. Paul’s looking into getting us some backup equipment.”
“Sounds like you won’t get anything production-quality,” Dan said. “Clyde says he can’t even get good sushi in that town.”
“It’s not bad.”
“What about your findings?” Kevin asked. “How’s the little librarian fooling the cameras?”
Adam’s back teeth snapped together. He pushed down a surge of annoyance.
This was hisjob. The Explorer Channel paid him to give the producers real-world explanations for all this crap. But he hated the idea that they already assumed Bee was a hoaxer.
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “It’s pretty good footage. And it’s a pain in the ass to shoot in this house, but it looks amazing on camera. With the right music and editing, it’ll be a great Halloween haunted house episode.”
“The episode is airing during sweeps week, and our hoax episodes have been getting higher ratings lately,” Dan said. “Plus, the viewers love your segments when you debunk all the evidence. Ryan wants to talk to you about possibly expanding your on-screen role.”
Adam’s chest tightened. “My contract is only for a three-minute segment.”
“Yeah, but it could be more. And you know that comes with a pay raise too.”
“Think about it,” Kevin said. “Keep us posted.”
There was a click as he ended the call.
Adam let out his breath slowly. He couldn’t be too obvious about his reasons for wanting them to announce to the world that the Gardenia House was authentically haunted.
He’d never once failed to come up with a real-world, science-based explanation for every single site they'd investigated, every strange occurrence or anomaly.
He couldn’t play dumb now—especially on the episode he was directing. The producers weren’t in this business to save old libraries, and they’d give him hell for forgoing his job because he’d been taken in by the pretty librarian.
No, he just had to be smart about how he approached this. He needed to stick to his science-based explanations while also compiling enough good footage from the cameras and Clyde Constantine to edit into a solid “haunted house” storyline.
He also had to get Constantine on his side—the show’s host was far more influential about the story’s direction than Adam was.
He could do all of that and still do his job as well as he ever had. He didn’t want an “expanded on-screen role”—in fact, he wanted off this damn show ASAP—but he wasn’t going to screw anything up for the producers, who’d hired him when no one else would, or the crew, the showrunner, the postproduction staff…or for Bee.
Glancing at the clock, he pushed away from the table and stuffed his laptop into his backpack. He had time to grab lunch and work on the script before tonight’s shoot.
After driving to downtown Bliss Cove, he parked on Starfish Avenue and walked to the Mousehole, which was located a little off the beaten path in a grove of redwoods. White lights twinkled around the windows, and flagstones led to the front porch.
Inside, he was greeted with the noise of conversation, laughter, and Steppenwolf’s “Born to be Wild” pumping out of the jukebox. Constantine was holding court at the bar—white smile gleaming and his signature curl glued to his forehead as he charmed a circle of four admiring young women.
The hostess waved for Adam to sit anywhere, so he grabbed a menu from the stand and made his way to an empty table in the corner.
