Authors: David L. Golemon
“I’m glad you’re so goddamn confident, Kennedy,” Kelly hissed. “It’s my ass on the line here.”
Kennedy laughed sharply. “Summer Place may just avail itself of that ass if you don’t respect it, Ms. Delaphoy.” He started toward the interviewers, to say goodbye to Father Dolan.
“I can handle that, if anything really happens inside that house.”
Kennedy turned back to face her and Dalton, but continued to walk backward.
“I hope you can handle it. If you can’t, you may just end up like your friends Kyle Pritchard and Paul Lowell. They didn’t take this house seriously, and see what that disrespect did for them?”
Kelly and Dalton watched Kennedy go, and then looked up at the looming house.
“He better be right,” Kelly said, looking up at the blank windows.
“For your sake I hope he is,” Harris said. “And then again, I really don’t want to see anything like what happened during the test again.”
“Why? That’s just the kind of show we want. Well, short of getting people eaten, of course.”
“You really don’t believe Kennedy, do you, even after all we’ve seen?”
“Oh, I believe him, it’s just that I’m not as afraid of the house as he is.”
Harris Dalton watched Kelly stride up the steps toward the double front doors.
Summer Place looked down on him like a giant looking at its next meal. To him, the house didn’t look cleansed at all—like Professor Kennedy said, Summer Place looked hungry. For the first time since the 1930s, the house would have a large menu to choose from.
As the large trucks started off-loading the heavy equipment, the clouds started gathering over the westernmost range of the Poconos. Summer Place was preparing for All Hallows Eve.
PART FOUR
THE GATEWAY
Halloween
I know that brother's blood they've spilt,
And sons of Cain must pay their guilt; I know the deviltries that stem
From dark abyss we must condemn; I know that but for heaven's grace
We might be rotting in their place
—Robert William Service
Summer Place
As more security poured into Summer Place, the crowds seemed to sense that their presence was causing the desired effect—UBC was paying them the attention they desired. They became louder and the clash between townies and fans became more boisterous and at times violent—the townfolk of Bright Waters wanted the UBC network and its fans out of Summer Place, and the fans of
Hunters of the Paranormal
wanted the townies to butt out of everything. The additional security was helping to keep the two sides separated and most thought it would calm down as soon as the district judge in Bright Waters issued his orders for the protesters and the fans to vacate private property under the threat of arrest.
Kennedy and his team, still minus Leonard Sickles and George Cordero, set up their meeting space in a large yellow and blue tent the network had set up just in front of the large pool. The commissary tent, a sixty-five foot long monstrosity, was arranged not far away by the giant red barn and stables. All of the production equipment was off-loaded and sat under tarps for the move into the house. Dalton and Kelly were inside the massive ballroom trying to convince Wallace Lindemann to grant them early access so that the cameras and sound systems could be placed a day early. The expected setup time for Leonard and his experimental equipment was a looming threat to their timetable. He and his technicians still had not left New York.
At four o’clock, Gabriel, Julie, John Lonetree, Jenny Tilden and Jason Sanborn—who had abstained from joining the argument with Wallace Lindemann—left their tent and started walking toward the wooded area behind the pool, following the riding trail that had eventually cost the life of gossip columnist Henrietta Batiste back in 1928. The rain clouds stayed far to the north for now, flooding the small valley with sunshine, something that Jason Sanborn frowned upon. They needed a dark and stormy night, and thus far their own meteorologists at the network were promising nothing but a clear, cold sky.
“Now, according to the stable boys on duty that day, including the caretaker’s father, John Johannson, Miss Batiste left the stables early that morning. By all accounts she was an accomplished rider, backed in tournaments by the likes of John Barrymore and Mary Pickford.”
“How many horses did Summer Place accommodate at any one time?” Jennifer asked. She walked slowly beside John Lonetree.
“During the spring and summer, the Lindemanns emptied their Kentucky stables and brought over fifty horses here—pure thoroughbreds,” Gabriel added.
“Even if she were an accomplished rider, an accident can befall anyone on one of those horses. They can be very finicky,” John said. “Without trying to cast too much aspersion, she just very well could have been lying, trying to cover up the fact that she was thrown from a horse. I mean, no one wants to admit that.”
“I see the point you’re trying to make here, John. The police reports on the attacks and the disappearances are the only facts we have. This story, like all of the rest, is a hand-me-down story.”
“Is this where it happened?” Jenny asked as Gabriel stopped in front of a copse of large pine trees.
“Right in here someplace. I believe she was indeed thrown, and then she claimed the attack came on so suddenly that she was caught totally by surprise.”
“I’m not feeling anything. There’s no residual energy here at all.” Lonetree placed a hand against the trunk of one of the large pines. “I think we will miss having George the most on things like this. He could be better at picking up residuals without having to sleep on it.”
“Well, I thought it worth a try, John,” Gabriel said. He turned back toward the barn and stables.
As the small group walked, they saw Kelly Delaphoy and Harris Dalton coming their way. Kelly didn’t look all that happy, and neither did Harris, but that could have been because he couldn’t stand being around Kelly.
“Julie,” Kelly said, “I thought I gave instructions that Professor Kennedy and his team were not to go anywhere on this property without at least one camera crew accompanying.”
Julie raised the small digital camera from her large bag and held it so Kelly could see it.
“Oh. Well, did you come across anything?”
“Nothing but a bunch of trees,” Julie said.
“Well, at least I have some good news. Wallace Lindemann said he owes us one for allowing in the priest and ghost hunters, so he’s letting us start setting up the equipment.”
“That’s good,” Jason said as he pulled his pipe from his mouth.
“But?” Gabriel asked as he half turned toward Kelly.
“But, we can’t have anyone in the house past midnight; he said he doesn’t want any accidents without independent witnesses.”
“A cautionary, but sane request,” Sanborn said.
“Bullshit. It’s a conman trying to keep his play hidden for as long as he can,” Julie quipped.
Kennedy had to smile. Julie was far more observant than he gave her credit for.
“You do realize the person that let Father Dolan loose in Summer Place was your boss, Lionel Peterson, don’t you?” Gabriel asked Kelly.
The question brought her to a stop.
“I would need proof of that,” she said. “I mean, why would he sabotage himself?”
“After becoming acquainted with you, Kelly,” Julie said, “I think the Professor has a valid point. He would do anything to see you fail. Men like Peterson always squeeze their way out of trouble, but he figures no matter what, if the show fails, you’re gone for sure.”
Again, Julie’s assessment was right on. Gabriel decided that she might not be so bad a partner.
As they strolled through the late afternoon, Lonetree was surprised to see that Gabriel’s attitude and demeanor had changed over from night to day. It was as if he had come home to a welcoming reunion with a long lost family member. It wasn’t only in the way he looked, but the way he carried himself, as if the horror of seven years ago never happened. It was as if he hadn’t recounted to him and the others the nightmare of Kyle Pritchard’s death in a town not an hour and a half away, or the dead animals he and Julie saw on the road in a spot that coincided with an area they had broken-down the night before.
John waited for Gabe to catch up with he and Jenny, and then intentionally slowed his pace until they were shoulder to shoulder. He would not only see how Gabe reacted, but he also wanted to gauge the others as well.
“Since we’ve been on property, Gabe, have you felt it?”
Gabriel looked up at his old friend with a curious look on his face. The others heard the question and listened in, which was exactly what John wanted. He would judge each, especially Kelly Delaphoy, by their reactions to his upcoming statement.
Gabriel didn’t answer right off. He stopped and tilted his head, as if trying to detect something he might have missed.
“You know what I mean,” John said. “Without actually going inside the house. It’s changed, hasn’t it?”
Gabriel turned and looked up at the massive summer home, watching as a light breeze blew the curtains in the third floor windows. Eunice must have been by and opened the windows to air the house out for the big night, he thought.
“It’s not oppressive to you, is it?” John persisted.
“What do you mean?” Kelly asked.
“I mean, for at least the moment, Summer Place is just a bunch of wood and stone,” John answered as he turned to face Kelly. “Does that worry you at all, Ms. Delaphoy?”
“Why do you say that,” Julie Reilly asked, eyeing the concerned look on Kelly’s face.
“Whatever was in there,” he faced Gabriel once more, “and I do believe your story, is gone.”
“Goddamn it!” Kelly said loudly. “I knew that son of a bitch was here to fuck this show up!”
Gabriel wanted to laugh at Kelly’s terror. The others saw his reaction to John’s statement and probably wondered why he would take John’s feeling so lightly.
“You’re right, whatever is in the house, or walking these grounds, isn’t active right now.” He faced Kelly. “And if it doesn’t choose to display its abilities tomorrow night, that’s just what your show is going to report. Is that clear, Ms. Delaphoy? If you try to fake something and we catch it, we’ll humiliate you. If there is one person in the world who can smoke out a rat, it’s my friend Leonard. Don’t try it.”
Kelly closed her eyes and mentally made herself not react to Kennedy’s statement. Instead she turned on her heel and went up the small incline to the large production tent.
“Jesus, I think you just scared her more than Summer Place ever could,” Jennifer said as she watched Kelly leave.
Gabriel smiled. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a drink. Miss ace reporter, may I assume your people brought the makings of a martini?”
“Oh, I think we can dig something up. If not we’ll break into the ballroom and steal some of Lindemann’s private stock.”
On the way up the hill, Gabriel looked over at the tree line and wondered if anyone had seen what he had. When he locked eyes with Julie Reilly, who was trying hard not to show Gabriel’s hole card, he knew she had seen them also.
Fifteen feet inside the tree line, beneath one of the large and ancient pine trees, Gabriel had counted over twenty dead birds and three dead squirrels.
Summer Place was very much alive, he thought. Alive and waiting for its time.
George Cordero sat
in the backseat of the cab as it slowly made its way along the Van Wyck Expressway in bumper to bumper traffic. The turnoff for JFK airport was nowhere in sight. The cab driver looked in his rearview mirror and saw that the dark eyed man hadn’t moved since he had been picked up in front of the Waldorf Astoria an hour before.
The driver reached over and switched on his radio.
“This is the top of the hour news from KWBW, John Stannic reporting. All is going well for one of the strangest television events to be launched in many years over at the UBC television network, as their highly anticipated Hunters of the Paranormal Halloween special is set to go off with wide spread fanfare tomorrow night from the Pocono Mountains. While the outlook is bright for record-setting numbers of viewers to tune into the extended programming, many stockholders are furious over the cost of the program itself. They say that Abraham Feuerstein, CEO of the parent company, has overstepped his bounds in the expensive endeavor. Meanwhile, here in New York, many residents are anticipating a glorious night for all Trick or Treaters and partygoers. Expect some of the nicest evening weather of the year, mild and almost balmy all the way from Washington, D.C. to the Maine border…”