“….One, New York you’re a go for three minutes of ad time,” Dalton said. On his monitor, Julie was looking at Gabriel, and the professor was smiling.
“So you expected me to corner you?”
“I never had a doubt you would revert to your old ways. How can a shark not be a shark?” Gabriel said. He gestured toward the steps that led up to the wide double doors of the house.
Julie shook her head, still disappointed that Kennedy hadn’t stumbled at all in her surprise opening. She placed a hand to her earphone and spoke into her mic.
“Harris, or Kelly, any feedback from New York or the test family in Boston?”
Kelly flipped the switch that gave her direct communication to Julie.
“You mean any reaction about your little ambush, you little—”
“All right, that’s enough,” Harris said. “Kelly, settle down and do your job.” Dalton looked over at the monitor that held the view of the family of four sitting on their couch in the suburb of Boston. The father was watching the commercial; the mother was admonishing the two kids, and a boy and a girl of about of thirteen or so, about holding still when they went live on camera. “No test family reaction.” Harris examined the construction worker and his dowdy wife. “And if I have my way, we’ll not be showing much of Mr. and Mrs. American viewer tonight.”
“Let me know if New York has any comment. Especially the news division,” Julie said. She walked faster to catch up with Gabriel.
“Okay everyone, places in the ballroom. Julie and the Professor will enter the house. They’ll be in the ballroom exactly two minutes after we start rolling. For God’s sake, look like you’re busy doing something when the camera pans. Mr. Sickles, I don’t want to hear a smartass comment coming from your mouth, you hear me?”
Camera Ten moved just far enough to show Leonard standing behind one of his computer researchers with his hands on his hips, looking angrily at the lens.
“Not a word, even when they introduce you,” Dalton finished. “We’re back from commercial in five…four…”
The view opened with Julie Reilly standing in front of the massive stone and wood fireplace. Gabriel had already gone inside the ballroom to head off any chance that Leonard might retaliate for the slight.
Julie started explaining how the television investigation would be conducted — how the three teams would explore certain sections of the house after the lights went out. As she spoke, she moved closer to the ballroom, which had been tagged “command central” earlier in the opening.
“Before we meet our teams…On a personal note, I want to state that while I reported on a massive breakdown by the Kennedy investigation seven years ago, I am only an interested observer here. I have no evidence or convincing argument to say that Summer Place is at all haunted. I believe that Professor Kennedy’s original theory concerning this beautiful, mysterious house is nothing more than a conductor that allows the mind to roam freely, injecting anything it wants into the moment, and that includes things that go bump in the night and strange sounds coming from a very old house. Now, we’ll meet tonight’s team: the Supernaturals.”
“Damn it, she’s doing it again. Where the hell did that come from—the Supernaturals? She’s making a joke out of the whole thing!” Kelly said loudly. Dalton turned and gestured for her to shut up, waving his hand angrily.
“Peterson, you’re the executive producer. At commercial break, you’re going to have to corner that woman and rein her in,” Harris said, watching Julie Reilly enter the ballroom. She went directly to Gabriel, who started introducing the team. The only person off camera who looked pleased at all was Leonard Sickles. The grinning young man clearly thought that the new nickname was cool.
Peterson almost couldn’t hide his smile. Instead of answering Dalton, he just nodded. He would indeed talk with Julie about naming the team and going off script. However, deep down inside, he wanted to thank the arrogant bitch for upstaging the maniac professor and his team of ghost hunters.
“And finally a man who is not a member of my team, but an independent observer, Father Dolan of Columbia University,” Gabriel concluded.
“Well, there you have it, the three teams of men and women who will try and make America believers in the supernatural. Right after the break, the hunt is on. We’ll be right back.”
Julie nodded to the cameraman, who gestured that they were off live TV. Jennifer Tilden came forward.
“The Supernaturals? Are you joking?”
“I thought the team needed a name. It’s far better than calling you the group, or something.”
“Well let me tell you what I think,” Jenny continued. Lonetree took her arm, but she wasn’t dissuaded. “It may not be a joke to you, but you’re trying your best to turn us into one, on live TV no less. Why now? Why make us think you were coming on board as a fair and impartial observer? You know, Gabriel said he expected this much from you.”
The last statement caught Julie off guard. She felt hurt that Kennedy never had trusted her; that all of her acting had been for nothing. Had her insincerity been that obvious? Kennedy was ignoring her and he didn’t even seem upset. He walked up to Damian Jackson and looked at his watch. He had one minute to say what he wanted to express to the state policeman.
“You see, Detective, I’m more observant that you thought. I picked up on Julie’s little game early on, and now I’ll tell you what you’re hoping for in this mess. You think that I’m here to publicly declare that I was responsible for what happened that night. That maybe this is some grand stage for my confession and I’ve been waiting all of these years for the big moment.”
“Personally, I bet you want to confess that you had the disappearance of your student staged. That’s what I’m hoping for. And then I’ll arrest you all over again.”
“I guess we’ll see eight hours from now, won’t we?” Gabriel smiled and started to turn away. “By the way, are you armed?”
Damian Jackson smiled and patted his coat. “Always. Professor. Always.”
Gabriel allowed his smile to grow. The policeman’s grin vanished as he wondered what the professor’s question had been about. Why would he need a gun against ghosts? Now he had to wonder if Kennedy was running a game, just as Julie Reilly had been.
Dalton absentmindedly watched the commercial airing from the New York studio. The soap advertisement showed a small girl in a clean, unbroken field of wheat as the image of the bar of soap spread across the screen. Dalton blinked and then caught himself.
“Okay, we’re back in ten, people, get to your places. Professor, Julie, you’ll start off by taking Leonard up to the second and third floors to explain his tech. Then we’ll switch to Lonetree in the stables and his walk-through of the pool area. Then after the next three-minute commercial break, we go dark. All power inside the house gets turned off, save for the ballroom. Okay, here we go in five, four, three, two—”
As the camera panned backward, bringing the base of the large staircase into focus and showing the expansive stairs leading upward — just the effect Harris Dalton had been hoping for — Leonard Sickles, Gabriel Kennedy, Father Dolan and Julie Reilly began their slow climb to the second floor. Leonard started explaining the technology behind his motion detectors. He pointed out the small blue LED lights that had been strung along the thick wooden banisters of all the stairs. From the first floor to the third, the little lights were designed to detect the slightest variance in temperature and air movement; the miniscule swirling of dust particles to the minute drop in temperature. The system would track anything moving along the stairs or hallways. The blue illumination would be picked up in the dark by the naked eye, and would also show brightly for the infrared cameras.