when we’ve done this before. But when Fiona runs an investigation, everyone better get used to the fact she likes living on the edge. Even more than her rock n’ roll husband does.
So, we are here. Seven figures clad in dark clothing, carrying cameras, voice recorders, EMF detectors, and flashlights.
After traveling in two SUVs—Tom’s and Jackie’s—we parked a quarter of a mile from the graveyard. Sprawling mansions border what’s left of the battlefield and plantation.
“ Man, did ya’ll feel the temperature drop just now?” whispered Justin, shortly after we crept inside the wrought-iron gate that marks the graveyard’s main entrance. “Last I checked it was still your typical humid July night back there in the parking lot.”
He pointed back to the small parking lot that separated the graveyard from the entrance road that leads to the plantation house.
“ Yeah, I’d say it’s a noticeable drop,” I agreed.
I looked over at Tom and Tony, and they nodded while testing the settings for the infrared camera and a new digital EVP recorder Tony picked up this morning before work, using the proceeds from his latest bonus check from our employer. Mine has been set aside for the kids, and Fiona and I plan to spend some of that cash tomorrow afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese’s and a matinee movie.
“ It could just be the fact we stepped under a few tall trees that have prevented the sun’s rays from warming the ground, as well as the very air around us,” offered Angie from behind me.
She and Jackie flanked Fiona, who now giggled.
“ Or it could be that even the spirits quiver before your powerful presence and fearsome strength, Muscle Mutt!”
Just teasing, of course, but even in darkness I could’ve sworn she glowered at me, as a warm tingling sensation suddenly traveled up my spine.
“ So, are you suggesting the restless souls of the Confederacy now tremble before the ladies in our little group, Cracker Jack-asshole?”
Ooh, always a bad thing when the uncomplimentary nickname gains a hyphenated add-on.
“ Just kidding, Angie,” I told her, peering over my shoulder to offer her a smile, and a tender wink to my wife. I’m not sure that either gesture was witnessed, given the twilight’s steady decline into deeper darkness. “By the way, did any of you sense something unusual last night at Johnny and Brenda’s place?”
“ There were a few cold spots,” said Tony, who looked over at Tom, as if waiting on a nod to confirm this.
Tom glanced up from his camera’s video playback screen and offered a slight nod to Tony, while we all waited for him to continue. I couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired since dinner to make surly Tom so amenable.
“ I thought for sure we’d leave there with all kinds of evidence,” Tony continued, pausing to adjust his UK baseball cap. “But nothing showed up other than in the still shots, unless we count the two EMF spikes we noted near the backdoor. No video, no EVPs, and—“
“ Nothing that anyone could sense,” Jackie interrupted, looking over at Fiona.
Unless we’re counting Candi’s dream visitation to my wife later last night. Sometimes Fiona shares that kind of thing with others in the group…sometimes not. I assumed from Jackie’s response and the crickets in the background that followed, no one knew about it. Maybe she felt this was the best way to protect our friends, or perhaps she thought it was just a dream after all, with no other importance. I could buy that, if not for several corpses being prepared for burial during the next few days.
She had some other reason—one that I determined to learn later, when alone with her in private
“ Let’s stay focused on why we’re here, everyone,” urged Fiona, a perfect opportunity to change the subject when a pair of headlights appeared briefly in the parking lot.
We all ducked down behind the nearest tombstones, and remained there until the small sedan turned around and left.
So, we are here. Seven figures clad in dark clothing, carrying cameras, voice recorders, EMF detectors, and flashlights.
After traveling in two SUVs—Tom’s and Jackie’s—we parked a quarter of a mile from the graveyard. Sprawling mansions border what’s left of the battlefield and plantation.
“ Man, did ya’ll feel the temperature drop just now?” whispered Justin, shortly after we crept inside the wrought-iron gate that marks the graveyard’s main entrance. “Last I checked it was still your typical humid July night back there in the parking lot.”
He pointed back to the small parking lot that separated the graveyard from the entrance road that leads to the plantation house.
“ Yeah, I’d say it’s a noticeable drop,” I agreed.
I looked over at Tom and Tony, and they nodded while testing the settings for the infrared camera and a new digital EVP recorder Tony picked up this morning before work, using the proceeds from his latest bonus check from our employer. Mine has been set aside for the kids, and Fiona and I plan to spend some of that cash tomorrow afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese’s and a matinee movie.
“ It could just be the fact we stepped under a few tall trees that have prevented the sun’s rays from warming the ground, as well as the very air around us,” offered Angie from behind me.
She and Jackie flanked Fiona, who now giggled.
“ Or it could be that even the spirits quiver before your powerful presence and fearsome strength, Muscle Mutt!”
Just teasing, of course, but even in darkness I could’ve sworn she glowered at me, as a warm tingling sensation suddenly traveled up my spine.
“ So, are you suggesting the restless souls of the Confederacy now tremble before the ladies in our little group, Cracker Jack-asshole?”
Ooh, always a bad thing when the uncomplimentary nickname gains a hyphenated add-on.
“ Just kidding, Angie,” I told her, peering over my shoulder to offer her a smile, and a tender wink to my wife. I’m not sure that either gesture was witnessed, given the twilight’s steady decline into deeper darkness. “By the way, did any of you sense something unusual last night at Johnny and Brenda’s place?”
“ There were a few cold spots,” said Tony, who looked over at Tom, as if waiting on a nod to confirm this.
Tom glanced up from his camera’s video playback screen and offered a slight nod to Tony, while we all waited for him to continue. I couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired since dinner to make surly Tom so amenable.
“ I thought for sure we’d leave there with all kinds of evidence,” Tony continued, pausing to adjust his UK baseball cap. “But nothing showed up other than in the still shots, unless we count the two EMF spikes we noted near the backdoor. No video, no EVPs, and—“
“ Nothing that anyone could sense,” Jackie interrupted, looking over at Fiona.
Unless we’re counting Candi’s dream visitation to my wife later last night. Sometimes Fiona shares that kind of thing with others in the group…sometimes not. I assumed from Jackie’s response and the crickets in the background that followed, no one knew about it. Maybe she felt this was the best way to protect our friends, or perhaps she thought it was just a dream after all, with no other importance. I could buy that, if not for several corpses being prepared for burial during the next few days.
She had some other reason—one that I determined to learn later, when alone with her in private
“ Let’s stay focused on why we’re here, everyone,” urged Fiona, a perfect opportunity to change the subject when a pair of headlights appeared briefly in the parking lot.
We all ducked down behind the nearest tombstones, and remained there until the small sedan turned around and left.
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