New York and LA. We’ll need to side light it, maybe with a standard flashlight…yeah, that’ll do it. We’ll bring it out in relief, use shadow to highlight what the audience will be looking at.”
Paul turned and looked at Kelly.
“This isn’t where that student disappeared, Kelly. Hell, come on; this is just a fluke. Bad workmanship, that’s all.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that, but this is something we can use, damn it. I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought of something like that.”
“Okay, point taken,” Paul said. Kelly jotted it down in her notepad.
“Now, let’s check out the sewing room,” Kelly said. When there was no immediate answer, she looked up with her pen poised above the paper. “What?” she asked. She was starting to get annoyed at her team’s hesitation. Then she saw both men looking to their left. Her eyes followed theirs. The door to the sewing room was standing wide open. It looked as if the room was welcoming them.
“That door wasn’t opened a moment ago,” Paul stepped back and brushed against the wall with the outline in its paper. He took two quick steps forward, away from the outline.
“Lindemann must have opened it on his way back down,” Kelly said.
“Lindemann went the opposite way back to the stairs,” Greg said. “We need to get downstairs; we’ll check that room out…later. Maybe during the test.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to grab a sandwich and start helping with the setup. I’m not used to working with an entire production van and a director.”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Kelly asked. The two hosts shrank from her gaze. But they ignored her the best they could and turned for the staircase as if she weren’t even there.
“Yeah, and of all the directors it has to be Harris Dalton, for Christ’s sake,” Greg added without a backward glance at Kelly.
“Isn’t he the one that started with…like, Monday Night Football or something?”
Kelly finally shook her head at both men’s timidity. They were afraid not only of a wall, but of a room where a mother once darned socks and made dresses for her daughters. She shook it off and followed the two men toward the stairs.
“He’s supposed to be a real prick,” she heard Paul say.
“He’s not God, but we better get going nonetheless,” Kelly said, looking back at the wall and the sewing room one last time. She scribbled another hasty note and then underlined it. The one hundred and thirty-second entry in her notepad read: Check out the sewing room after the test!!!
Paul also looked one last time at the flaw in the wallpaper. He decided he would give the stand-up shot to Greg and one of the assistants. He didn’t want to be too near the strange outline.
As Kelly stepped up next to her partners, she glanced back and her eyes widened. The sewing room door was closed.
three
Kelly, Greg and Paul stepped into the large broadcast trailer that sat on leveled blocks behind the Peterbilt truck. They sat in various chairs around Jason Sanborn, who was huddled with the director, Harris Dalton, watching the sixteen screens arrayed on the wall of the trailer—one for each of the cameras throughout the house. For Kelly, this was a reward of sorts, a standard none of the Hunters of the Paranormal production team was used to. Usually they ran control from the back of a Ford van with just enough small computer monitors to cover the live action cameras. Almost everything on their show was run from a small laptop. This van had enough equipment to rival a NASA remote station.
“This shot here, that’s no good.” Harris Dalton tapped the screen with the taped letterhead CAM-RMT-ONE. “You must have placed the camera too close to a wall conduit or something. We have a serious picture degradation issue,” Dalton finished, placing his headphones on.
“Damn, that’s the camera in the opera lady’s suite on three,” Greg said. Static lines coursed
Paul turned and looked at Kelly.
“This isn’t where that student disappeared, Kelly. Hell, come on; this is just a fluke. Bad workmanship, that’s all.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that, but this is something we can use, damn it. I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought of something like that.”
“Okay, point taken,” Paul said. Kelly jotted it down in her notepad.
“Now, let’s check out the sewing room,” Kelly said. When there was no immediate answer, she looked up with her pen poised above the paper. “What?” she asked. She was starting to get annoyed at her team’s hesitation. Then she saw both men looking to their left. Her eyes followed theirs. The door to the sewing room was standing wide open. It looked as if the room was welcoming them.
“That door wasn’t opened a moment ago,” Paul stepped back and brushed against the wall with the outline in its paper. He took two quick steps forward, away from the outline.
“Lindemann must have opened it on his way back down,” Kelly said.
“Lindemann went the opposite way back to the stairs,” Greg said. “We need to get downstairs; we’ll check that room out…later. Maybe during the test.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to grab a sandwich and start helping with the setup. I’m not used to working with an entire production van and a director.”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Kelly asked. The two hosts shrank from her gaze. But they ignored her the best they could and turned for the staircase as if she weren’t even there.
“Yeah, and of all the directors it has to be Harris Dalton, for Christ’s sake,” Greg added without a backward glance at Kelly.
“Isn’t he the one that started with…like, Monday Night Football or something?”
Kelly finally shook her head at both men’s timidity. They were afraid not only of a wall, but of a room where a mother once darned socks and made dresses for her daughters. She shook it off and followed the two men toward the stairs.
“He’s supposed to be a real prick,” she heard Paul say.
“He’s not God, but we better get going nonetheless,” Kelly said, looking back at the wall and the sewing room one last time. She scribbled another hasty note and then underlined it. The one hundred and thirty-second entry in her notepad read: Check out the sewing room after the test!!!
Paul also looked one last time at the flaw in the wallpaper. He decided he would give the stand-up shot to Greg and one of the assistants. He didn’t want to be too near the strange outline.
As Kelly stepped up next to her partners, she glanced back and her eyes widened. The sewing room door was closed.
three
Kelly, Greg and Paul stepped into the large broadcast trailer that sat on leveled blocks behind the Peterbilt truck. They sat in various chairs around Jason Sanborn, who was huddled with the director, Harris Dalton, watching the sixteen screens arrayed on the wall of the trailer—one for each of the cameras throughout the house. For Kelly, this was a reward of sorts, a standard none of the Hunters of the Paranormal production team was used to. Usually they ran control from the back of a Ford van with just enough small computer monitors to cover the live action cameras. Almost everything on their show was run from a small laptop. This van had enough equipment to rival a NASA remote station.
“This shot here, that’s no good.” Harris Dalton tapped the screen with the taped letterhead CAM-RMT-ONE. “You must have placed the camera too close to a wall conduit or something. We have a serious picture degradation issue,” Dalton finished, placing his headphones on.
“Damn, that’s the camera in the opera lady’s suite on three,” Greg said. Static lines coursed
Similar Books
