Authors: David L. Golemon
“Can you tell us why you’re here and what you want?” Julie asked. “We’re tired, and we have an early day tomorrow.”
At that moment Kelly Delaphoy stepped into the room, followed by the CEO himself. Abe Feuerstein still had on his customary bowtie and his brown suit. He slid easily into a chair at the table. He was looking directly at Kennedy as he pushed a chair out for Kelly to sit. When she did, the CEO placed a hand her shoulder and squeezed.
“I sure as hell will tell you, Ms. Reilly,” Peterson answered smugly. “Although, you being the ace reporter here, I believe you should have had an inkling of what was happening right under your nose.”
The CEO of UBC watched, letting it all play out without comment, but still he kept his aged hand on Kelly’s shoulder.
“I was awakened an hour ago by the Pennsylvania State Police, I immediately called the CEO and he suggested we get here and sort this mess out.”
“And that mess is?”
“Your intrepid detective shot and wounded Kyle Pritchard tonight in that small town out by Summer Place. He shot him, after the man cut the throat of Kelly’s other conman, Paul Lowell.”
Shock settled on Julie’s face as the news sank in. She sat hard in the chair she was standing near and placed a hand over her face. It was when she looked over at Kelly Delaphoy that her anger seethed to the surface.
“You stupid fool, what have you and your people done?”
“I don’t know what the hell anyone is talking about. I had nothing to do with this. Those two have been missing since the night of the test. I had no idea they were still near the house!” Kelly looked to Gabriel for some sort of help, but immediately saw that there would be none there.
“Can you explain in detail what happened, Mr. Peterson?” Feuerstein asked, patting Kelly on the shoulder in a calming gesture.
“All I know is what the detective told me over the phone. He wants to talk to Kelly. He suspects, and rightly so, about her connection to Pritchard. I think she has something to do with this.”
“Are you kidding me? Murder?” Kelly stood so suddenly that the CEO’s hand flew from her shoulder. “In case you didn’t realize, Lionel, you just told me one of my best friends in all the world just had his throat sliced!”
“I didn’t think sharks had any friends,” Peterson spat back.
“Most sharks are loners, Peterson. That’s why you travel as a singular entity yourself,” Gabriel said. “I doubt very much that Ms. Delaphoy’s imagination would go to that extreme. I mean, to kill another human being for high ratings...”
“Now you listen to me, you crack—”
“Professor Kennedy is right, where would the gain be for Kelly?”
Peterson stopped in midsentence and looked at the CEO. He was attempting to get Kelly to sit once more.
“Obviously Kyle Pritchard was insane. He more than likely abducted the poor man, and did God knows what to him. And then, in the end, he snapped and killed him. Sad, but I think all we can accuse our little producer of is extremely poor judgment.”
“Did Jackson say anything more?” Julie asked. She changed targets, shifting her glare from Kelly to Peterson. “Did Pritchard say anything at the scene?”
“Detective Jackson didn’t go into any detail. He just wants to speak with Kelly.”
“Well, he can do so, but in the presence of our team of criminal defense attorneys,” Feuerstein said, rising from his chair.
“Sir, it’s obvious we have to cut this program from our lineup. I mean, we have to use a little bit of taste and common sense.”
“Common sense, yes, yes we do, Lionel. We have already spent a tremendous amount of money in advertising. Common sense is indeed needed. Good taste, however, is something that reality television left out of the equation many years ago. No, the show goes on. We will turn this Pritchard thing into a beneficial part of the show.” He placed his hand back on Kelly’s shoulder and squeezed hard enough to elicit a wince from the blonde woman. “You’ll see to that, won’t you, young lady?”
“Yes, sir,” she said shrugging away from him.
“Good,” the CEO said as he moved to the door. “Professor Kennedy, I would appreciate it very much if you would be present at any questioning. It seems Detective Jackson may have some preconceived notions regarding Ms. Delaphoy here.”
“He won’t be the only one there. I want a crack at Detective Jackson, also. How convenient that all of this happened right in front of him,” Julie said. Kennedy stood and, without a word, bypassed the CEO at the door and left the room.
“It seems we are fast becoming a disappointment to our good professor,” Feuerstein said, surveying the people still inside the room. “Lionel, please attempt to follow up and get as many details about this incident as you can,” he said. Then he turned and followed Kennedy out the door.
“Goddamn you two, you’re going to go down and you’re going to take everyone with you.”
Julie grabbed her bag and took a menacing step toward Peterson.
“That just may be worth it, you little prick.”
Kennedy walked down
the hallway in silence. Julie glanced back and saw that Kelly was waiting on the CEO and Peterson. She would like to have stayed and listened to Kelly try to explain the sudden reappearance and then death of her co-host, but she knew Kennedy wasn’t going to allow this incident in Bright Waters to pass by without doing something.
“I’m coming along,” she said as she caught up to Gabriel. He looked tired.
“No, you have the assignment; you don’t need me to go to the Lindemann historical society. I’ve got business.”
“I know, and that’s why you need me along.” She stopped suddenly and took Kennedy by the jacket sleeve. “Jackson’s not going to allow you to talk with a murder suspect, not when he thinks you’re one also. He not only believes you killed your student, he thinks you’re possibly in on this, too. Professor, you need me.”
Kennedy shook free of her grasp and looked around. His eyes traveled to the ceiling as he thought about leaving John and Jennifer alone upstairs.
“I’ll get Jason Sanborn to sit outside Lonetree’s door for the night. If anything happens we can be back here in a few hours. Look Kennedy, if this is a part of Kelly’s little plan that got away from her, we need to know that. If she was, she’ll never admit to it and you know that. You need to know what you’re dealing with here. The only way you can do that is by speaking to Kyle Pritchard, and I’m sorry, but you need me for that.”
“Goddamn it,” Gabriel hissed, finally sparing Julie a look. “What are you after? Tell me the truth. Do you believe what happened to us seven years ago, or are you just playing along until you can pull your
60 Minutes
spring-trap on us?”
“I’ll tell you the truth: I don’t know. I think that maybe you have good reason to fear that damn place and that maybe you have justifiable reasons in your own head for what happened that night. But there is one thing I will tell you, Professor. Even after all the hocus pocus I’ve seen today, there are no ghosts in that house. There are just people. People are capable of creating the true horror stories of our day, I’ve seen it time and time again. Kyle Pritchard is one of those—a part of the mystique of a wooden and concrete house, that makes up a whole puzzle. If this is a fake, I will report it as so.”
Gabriel nodded his head. “Okay. Report things as you experience them, tell people the truth after Halloween, I’ll be satisfied with that.”
“And Pritchard?” she asked.
“I’ve told you before; I’m not a big believer in coincidence. Why would Pritchard do what he did?”
“Maybe he’s just crazy, did you ever think of that?”
“That’s a very clinical analysis Ms. Ace Reporter, and I’ll even grant you that and counter with my own clinical report—yes, his cheese has slipped his cracker. Now that that’s taken care of, why did Pritchard wait until now to kill Mr. Lowell? Why did he travel that distance to do it at that particular place and in front of the one policeman linked to that damn house? And here’s one you’d better burn into that notebook of yours, Ms. Reilly: just where the hell have Pritchard and Lowell been for the last eight days?”
Julie had posed the same question to herself in the meeting room, but it hadn’t made her stop and think like it did now, spoken in the light of the hallway.
“But you’re right. I will need you to get through Detective Damian Jackson,” Kennedy turned and started for the immense lobby of the Waldorf.
“Damn right you do,” she said as she caught up with Kennedy once more.
“And it’s just not for the reasons I just mentioned.” He reached the front doors and stopped. “For some reason, that house knows Jackson is involved with what’s happening on the 31
st
. It tracked him down to deliver UBC’s missing people to him.”
“Yeah?” She switched her large bag to the other shoulder.
“They were sent to deliver a message.”
The light finally dawned in Julie’s eyes. “We need to know what Summer Place communicated to him.”
“Now you’re starting to get just what may be crazy here, Ms. Reilly.”
Julie smiled as Kennedy turned and went through the doorway. The doorman took Kennedy’s valet ticket.
Julie shook her head. “My bet is still on the human factor.”
“Yeah?” he said with a larger than normal smile.
“Yes, it is.”
“Mine’s on Summer Place.”
Jason Sanborn yawned
, leaning forward and pressing his head lightly against the door. He heard nothing but the hiss of air by his ear, and so he pulled away and leaned against the wall. He pulled his pipe from his jacket pocket, looked from it to the “no smoking” sign, and frowned. He placed the pipe back into his jacket and then leaned his ear to the door once more. He was rewarded with a mumbled shout, and then sudden silence.
“No horrific sounds, no blood curdling screams yet?”
Jason’s heart almost jumped from his chest. The voice caught him totally unawares. He turned and saw the smiling face of George Cordero. “Oh, God. You scared the living hell out of me.” Jason grabbed his chest.
“Calm down old boy. This is the Waldorf, not the House on Haunted Hill.”
“What are you doing up here? It’s nearly two in the morning.”
“Ah, the lounge died down to nothing after Jennifer’s magic trick, so I thought I would cruise the hallways looking for adventure and hijinks.”
Jason rummaged in his pocket, fumbling for his pipe once more. He placed it in his mouth and tried to look as if he wasn’t on edge. “Well, you’re not missing anything up here, so I guess you’ll have to find your hijinks and adventure somewhere else.”
“Boy, everyone’s just as friendly as hell tonight.” Cordero leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “Still, I think I’ll wait and see if our resident medicine man gets a line on anything.”
Jason removed the pipe from his mouth and looked at George. He studied him for a moment and then looked at his empty pipe.
“You don’t care for Mr. Lonetree, do you?”
George smiled as he looked to his left down the long and empty hallway.
“I don’t care for most people, Mr. Sanborn. If you had the talent,” he looked at Jason with serious eyes, “or curse, you would find that the basic human being is a piece of shit. Always out to screw someone over.”
“Then why are you here?” Sanborn asked.
“Kennedy. That man is tenacious. I was a patient of his many years ago; he hadn’t been out of school very long. He found me in an alley in Pasadena. When he pulled me out of there and started talking to me, I would have never known he was a shrink. Then he took me to his house and I saw his diploma on the wall. At first I thought he was a freak or something—you know, out to doodle a kid off the street. But instead of being a perv, the man actually tossed me his house keys and told me where the food was, and then he left. I didn’t see him for two days. You see, Kennedy had a feeling too. He knew I wouldn’t rip him off. After that, we spoke for weeks. He taught me that it was okay to be bitter about my talent.”
“Did you ever use your talent on Kennedy?” Jason asked.
“No, if I did that, it would open a two way street and exchange of information, and I don’t need Gabriel Kennedy that far into my head. He did test my clairvoyance, though, and he did verify what I had wasn’t natural. He believed me right off the bat, and didn’t try to give me the full battery of medical testing that most doctors would do. You know, looking for the grapefruit-sized tumor on my head, or the dark past that had me killing my immediate family. He knew it was a gift and never doubted that or tried to cloud it with medical terminology. That, Mr. Sanborn, is why I’m here.” He stared Jason for a few uncomfortable seconds. “Gabriel Kennedy is my only friend in the world, and I suspect if he doesn’t get answers this time around, it will kill him. Maybe physically, maybe mentally, but it will certainly damage him beyond repair. I won’t let that happen.”
“Well, that proves you have some humanity in you. So why don’t you respect Mr. Lonetree’s talent?”
Cordero chuckled and then examined the hallway. The elevator chimed, a hundred feet away. He heard the doors slide open, and then closed. He watched, but no one came from the elevator landing.