“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.