said something about another ghost.”
Hayden, as usual, was intensely serious. “I need you to hold a séance here. I think the store’s haunted.”
“What’s up?”
“When I’m here by myself, I hear strange noises. Footsteps, whispers, strange cries.”
This is business as usual for Hayden.
“And I find things rearranged or knocked over.”
Jerry listened very seriously. He didn’t say what I would’ve said, such as, “Are you sure it’s not kids?” or “Have you been taking your medication?”
“Sounds like a poltergeist.”
“Oh, my God. I knew it.”
“Now, don’t panic. They’re usually more mischievous than harmful.”
“Can you get rid of it?”
“Sure. Where did you find things rearranged?”
“I’ll show you.”
Hayden led us to the children’s section. Between the bookshelves was an open space with child-sized chairs and a little table. On the table was an empty plate.
“Georgia and I had some cookies for the kids. They’re all gone. And the other day when we had special treats for a book club meeting, those disappeared, too.” He pointed to the shelves. “And up there, I had a whole row of new books. Every single one was on the floor this morning.”
“Stacked in a pile?”
“No, just scattered.”
Jerry nodded. “It’s a poltergeist, all right. No problem.”
Hayden relaxed. “I knew you could take care of it. I was afraid it might have something to do with all this Mantis Man trouble.”
“What trouble?” I asked.
“The movie they plan to make. It’s really stirring up some resentment in town. I just hope it isn’t stirring up the creature.”
“Hayden, I seriously doubt that.”
But he wasn’t listening to me. “It’s like digging up a grave. You have to leave these things alone. No wonder a poltergeist is in the store.”
“What does Georgia’s Books have to do with Mantis Man?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked so troubled, Jerry said, “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll take care of it.”
Once outside, I frowned at Jerry. “Why in the world would you encourage him like that?”
Jerry shrugged. “He’s already decided it’s a ghost. Nothing’s going to change his mind. Might as well go with the flow.”
“But you don’t honestly believe there’s a poltergeist haunting the store.”
“Well, there could be.”
“No, there couldn’t.”
“Not gonna argue with you on this one, Mac. We’ll just see.”
When we got home, there was a message from Patricia on Jerry’s answering machine to call her right away. The director of Voltage Films was in town and interested in seeing the house.
Jerry returned her call. “Tell him to come out any time.” He listened, nodding, and then said, “That would be great, thanks.” He hung up. “They’re on their way.”
I have to admit the Eberlin house looks haunted. Although Nell’s done wonders with the inside, the outside of the house still looks the same as it did the first day Jerry and I saw it. The porch still sags, the roof needs repair, shutters hang loose, and the gray paint is flaked and cracked, giving the house a scabby appearance.
We had to wait only twenty minutes before a dark blue van and a black Lincoln town car came slowly up the winding driveway and parked beside the house. A dark bearded man in a black tee shirt, black jeans, and a black baseball cap got out of the van, followed by a thin girl, also in black, and another man. A lanky man I recognized as Lance Henderson got out of the Lincoln.
Lance Henderson looked impressive as long as he was in strong sunlight and a good distance away. Close up and in the shadows of the trees, I could see the fine network of lines around his eyes and mouth, the red-rimmed eyes, and obvious hairpiece.
The dark man shook Jerry’s hand. “You must be Jerry Fairweather. I’m Josh Gaskins. This is my assistant, Stephanie Harold, this is Flynn Davis, and of course you know Lance Henderson. Terrific house. Just what I was looking
Hayden, as usual, was intensely serious. “I need you to hold a séance here. I think the store’s haunted.”
“What’s up?”
“When I’m here by myself, I hear strange noises. Footsteps, whispers, strange cries.”
This is business as usual for Hayden.
“And I find things rearranged or knocked over.”
Jerry listened very seriously. He didn’t say what I would’ve said, such as, “Are you sure it’s not kids?” or “Have you been taking your medication?”
“Sounds like a poltergeist.”
“Oh, my God. I knew it.”
“Now, don’t panic. They’re usually more mischievous than harmful.”
“Can you get rid of it?”
“Sure. Where did you find things rearranged?”
“I’ll show you.”
Hayden led us to the children’s section. Between the bookshelves was an open space with child-sized chairs and a little table. On the table was an empty plate.
“Georgia and I had some cookies for the kids. They’re all gone. And the other day when we had special treats for a book club meeting, those disappeared, too.” He pointed to the shelves. “And up there, I had a whole row of new books. Every single one was on the floor this morning.”
“Stacked in a pile?”
“No, just scattered.”
Jerry nodded. “It’s a poltergeist, all right. No problem.”
Hayden relaxed. “I knew you could take care of it. I was afraid it might have something to do with all this Mantis Man trouble.”
“What trouble?” I asked.
“The movie they plan to make. It’s really stirring up some resentment in town. I just hope it isn’t stirring up the creature.”
“Hayden, I seriously doubt that.”
But he wasn’t listening to me. “It’s like digging up a grave. You have to leave these things alone. No wonder a poltergeist is in the store.”
“What does Georgia’s Books have to do with Mantis Man?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked so troubled, Jerry said, “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll take care of it.”
Once outside, I frowned at Jerry. “Why in the world would you encourage him like that?”
Jerry shrugged. “He’s already decided it’s a ghost. Nothing’s going to change his mind. Might as well go with the flow.”
“But you don’t honestly believe there’s a poltergeist haunting the store.”
“Well, there could be.”
“No, there couldn’t.”
“Not gonna argue with you on this one, Mac. We’ll just see.”
When we got home, there was a message from Patricia on Jerry’s answering machine to call her right away. The director of Voltage Films was in town and interested in seeing the house.
Jerry returned her call. “Tell him to come out any time.” He listened, nodding, and then said, “That would be great, thanks.” He hung up. “They’re on their way.”
I have to admit the Eberlin house looks haunted. Although Nell’s done wonders with the inside, the outside of the house still looks the same as it did the first day Jerry and I saw it. The porch still sags, the roof needs repair, shutters hang loose, and the gray paint is flaked and cracked, giving the house a scabby appearance.
We had to wait only twenty minutes before a dark blue van and a black Lincoln town car came slowly up the winding driveway and parked beside the house. A dark bearded man in a black tee shirt, black jeans, and a black baseball cap got out of the van, followed by a thin girl, also in black, and another man. A lanky man I recognized as Lance Henderson got out of the Lincoln.
Lance Henderson looked impressive as long as he was in strong sunlight and a good distance away. Close up and in the shadows of the trees, I could see the fine network of lines around his eyes and mouth, the red-rimmed eyes, and obvious hairpiece.
The dark man shook Jerry’s hand. “You must be Jerry Fairweather. I’m Josh Gaskins. This is my assistant, Stephanie Harold, this is Flynn Davis, and of course you know Lance Henderson. Terrific house. Just what I was looking
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