Stage Fright (4 page)

“Well, that’s it,” he said. “Nothin’.”

Toni rose from the table, stretched and feigned a yawn. ”I'm exhausted. I think I’m going to a call it a night.” Mike was putting away the equipment and just nodded. Bridget did not look convinced.

Toni hurried from the room without giving Bridget a chance to question her. In the hallway, she slid her key card through the reader, opened her door and closed it loudly while still standing in the hall. She glanced towards Mike and Bridget’s room, and hurried for the elevators.
This is probably a bad idea
, she thought. Inside the elevator, she reached out and depressed the button marked L. Her stomach knotted as the lift descended to the lobby level. Fear and anticipation had always been a heady combination for Toni and now both emotions twisted in her belly.

With her head down to avoid eye contact, she hurried past the night clerk. As she walked down the quiet street, she fished in her purse for the keys to the theatre. Snagging them from Mike’s jacket pocket had given her a little thrill and she felt like a rebellious teen sneaking out on a forbidden date.

The nape of her neck tingled as she unlocked the glass front door and slid inside the lobby. She dropped her coat and purse inside the ticket window, turned on the house lights then took the side steps near the end of the concession stand up to the balcony. She walked to the railing and looked out over the dim room. Her gaze settled on the row of the seats where she’d encountered the ghost, but she saw nothing otherworldly. Only stuffed chairs with ratty upholstery. Toni felt nervous and excited, but did not detect any entities. Closing her eyes she extended her arms out over the railing, spread her fingers wide and concentrated. Nothing.

She turned and walked up the wide carpeted steps towards the back of the balcony. Glancing at the projection booth and finding it empty, she made a left at the top of the stairs and entered the VIP screening room. She groped for the wall switch and flicked it on. Sconces with tinted glass shades illuminated the space giving it a warm glow. Dingy rectangles marked the walls where pictures once hung and the carpeting was so faded she could barely make out the oversized pattern. Toni could almost imagine what the room must have looked like in its heyday, when it was a lounge for visiting celebrities.

A wave of energy washed over Toni's skin. She stood in the centre of the suite and turned slowly, sweeping her gaze over the huge pane of glass overlooking the theatre and the small window set in the adjacent wall. Opposite the viewing window was a long couch covered with a yellowed drop cloth. She turned again until she faced the door. To the left a sheet was tacked over a closet. The fabric rippled as if caught by a gust of air. The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. Toni fought the urge to flee. She willed her feet to move and inched towards the closet. She reached out and grasped a handful of dingy cotton. A painful surge prickled up her arm. Drawing in a deep breath, she yanked hard ripping the sheet from the nails that secured it at the corners.

The closet was stuffed with cardboard boxes and rolled up posters. Empty wire hangers clanged against one another. An old garment bag hung at the end of the metal closet rod. Toni reached out and pulled down the zipper. She pushed back the bag and swept the back of her hand over the pale blue chiffon. She pulled the gown from the hanger and draped it on the sofa. She arranged the dress, trying to understand the construction of the yards of diaphanous fabric.

A puff of warm air stirred the curls at the side of her neck. Toni’s muscles tensed. “Try it on,” a voice whispered in her ear. An invisible touch swept across her collarbones then trailed downwards until a ghostly hand cupped her breast and squeezed. An electric tingle spiralled over her flesh before concentrating at her nipple. The excited skin puckered and hardened. “Ah,” Toni breathed. Her eyelids felt heavy and she let them slide halfway closed.

“Try it on,” the voice urged.

The sensation of being touched faded and Toni mewled in protest at the loss of it. A delicious warmth spread outwards from the pit of her stomach. Her limbs felt loose and heavy, as if she’d been drugged. She lifted her arms to the front of her blouse and slowly undid the buttons, then tossed the shirt behind the sofa. Her boots and the rest of her clothes followed. Toni’s bare skin seemed hypersensitive. She stood motionless for a moment, waiting—hoping—for the phantom touch to return.

“Try it on!” the voice demanded. This time it was not in her ear, it filled the entire suite and the tone was impatient.

Toni snatched up the gown and reflexively held it against her naked body then looked nervously around the room. It was empty. With shaking hands, she pulled the covered buttons from their loops then stepped into the confusing layers of fabric. Once she’d slipped it on, she could see that it was a plunging halter-topped gown with a tightly fitted midriff and full skirt. She contorted to fasten the buttons at the small of her back then secured the straps behind her neck with hidden pairs of hook-and-eye closures. Her full breasts fit into the tailored top as if it had been custom made for her. The gathered bodice looked effortless, but the foundation was constructed for support. It was a marvel of fashion engineering.

At the bottom of the garment bag she found a black velvet pouch. She loosened the drawstring and pulled out a pair of beaded sling back sandals. They too were a perfect fit. Toni turned and admired her reflection in the viewing window. She closed her eyes, swivelled her hips and smiled at the rustle of the tulle and the brush of the luxurious fabric against her bare legs.

The sweet fragrance of roses filled the air and she could hear the murmur of a cocktail party. Beneath the din was instrumental music, accompanied by the unmistakable crackle of an old phonograph record. Toni pulled the floral scent into her lungs. She detected cigar and cigarette smoke and opened her eyes. She was surrounded by men in tuxedos and women in long party gowns at least two decades older than her own dress. They were clustered in groups, lounging on the sofa and gathered around the Victrola. The festive atmosphere was contagious.

A couple stood just inches from her left shoulder. The woman was wisp thin and stood with her pelvis thrust forward, a delicate hand resting on her sharp hipbone. The man took a sip of his martini. “…and that’s when I told the old chap that I’d sooner ride an elephant through a monsoon.” The woman threw back her head and let out an exaggerated laugh. The insincerity of the reaction was obviously lost on the man, who provocatively raised an eyebrow. Toni shook her head.
Maybe that’s the 1930s version of a faked orgasm
, she thought.

Toni reached out and waved her hand in the space between the couple’s faces. They took no notice of her. The woman slipped a silver case from her handbag, pulled out a cigarette and tapped it on the lid before sliding it between her red lips. “Those things will kill you, you know,” Toni said. The ghost ignored the warning and batted her lashes as her date flicked his lighter with a flourish. Toni chuckled. “I’m sure the smoking didn’t do you in. You probably starved to death. Eat a sandwich for God’s sake, woman!”

The noise in the room suddenly diminished as if someone had dialled down a volume knob.

“They liked ‘em skinny back then.”

Toni wheeled around towards the door to face the source of the voice. A young man leaned against the doorjamb. His dishwater blond hair was greased into a pompadour. The collar of his scuffed black leather jacket was turned up and he wore a tight white T-shirt, jeans and black boots.

“Kip?” Toni asked.

He affected a bow then strode to where she stood. “At your service, doll.”

Kip circled Toni, making no effort to hide his frank appraisal of her. She stood in place but turned her head to follow him. He passed right through the images of the other ghosts and when he’d completed his circuit, he let out a long wolf whistle. “That getup suits you.”

Toni felt a flush creep over her chest and into her cheeks. Kip swept the back of his hand over her face. She was surprised that his touch felt warm and solid. “Aw, why so shy, honey?”

“Toni,” she corrected.

“Toni,” he repeated softly. “That suits you too.”

He swept his gaze over her again from head to toe then slowly shook his head. “Mm. Mm. Mm.”

His brazenness was unnerving. Toni smoothed her hands over the front of her dress. “Who’s was this?” she asked.

“Preston’s wife’s. You fill it out better though. You look kind of like her—prettier—and she had red hair.”

“You two were an item?”

Kip laughed. “To hear the old man tell it, yeah. He was a jealous son of a bitch. We flirted, sure, but it was just for kicks. I never laid a hand on her—well almost never. I kissed her once. Not that I didn’t want to do more. All those curves. Man! A guy can dream. Right?”

“So why didn’t you go through with it?”

“Let’s just say we got interrupted. But that’s not going to happen to us. Is it, doll?” The ghost scooped up Toni’s hand and squeezed. A jolt of energy radiated up her arm. She jerked away.

Kip narrowed his eyes. “Playing hard to get, huh? You weren’t so coy earlier—rubbing against me like you were. My dick’s been hard for hours.”

He grabbed Toni’s wrist and flattened her palm over his crotch. He held her with his stare and she couldn’t help but knead the huge erection that strained against the denim. He let go of her wrist, but she didn’t pull her hand away. She played her fingers over the outline of his shaft, measuring its impressive size. Her sex tingled and she felt her juices flow beneath the yards of crinoline. Studying his handsome face, Toni noticed a slight, almost imperceptible jerk of his chin, then felt the hem of her dress rise up of its own accord. He reached underneath the fabric, grasped her ass with both hands, then squeezed hard. She laced her fingers behind his neck and he yanked her against him a moment before his hot lips engulfed hers. White hot desire flashed through Toni’s body. Her attention was divided between the strong fingers digging into her backside and the warm, wet tongue plunging into her mouth. In a confusing instant, another set of hands roughly crushed her breasts and fingers plunged into her pussy.

Toni jerked her head to the side. “Who else is here?” she cried.

Kip stared down at her and she could see flashes of light pulse out from his blue eyes. He opened his mouth wide and laughed. The sound of it was deafening. When she began to tremble, his expression softened. “Shh…shh…shh,” he soothed. “Nobody—and nothing—else is here, baby. It’s just you and me.”

“But the other… I felt other—”

“It’s all me, baby. Everything I ever did in life—everything I’ve thought about doing since—now I can do it all at once. There are no rules on this side, sweetheart.”

The prospect thrilled and terrified her. When she looked into his eyes again she saw all-consuming lust—and something else—something almost menacing. He winked as if to placate her. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long, long time and I’m going to give you a night you’ll never forget.”

The instinct to flee was almost overwhelming, but in an instant he was upon her and countless hands and lips teased her towards unimaginable ecstasy.

* * * *

Bridget was jolted awake. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and remember that she was in a hotel room. The frantic pounding had woken Mike too and he stood beside the bed pulling on his boxers.

“Open the fucking door!” came a man’s panicked voice from the hallway.

Bridget’s gaze met Mike’s. “That’s Thomas!”

Bridget pulled on her robe an instant before Thomas burst into the room.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Who? Toni?” Mike asked.

“Yes, God damn it—Toni! Where is she?” Thomas said.

Bridget shook her head. She felt muddled and tried to recall the last few hours. “She, um, she went to bed early—said she was exhausted and…”

“Well, she’s not in the room,” Thomas said.

The three hurried into the hallway. The door to Toni’s room was ajar and Thomas’ bags were just inside. Mike ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. “I have no idea, man. Maybe she went to the theatre.”

“And you let her?” Thomas thundered.

Bridget laid her hand on Thomas’ arm. “Thomas, you know nobody has to
let
Toni do anything. It’s no big deal. We’ll get dressed and head down there right now. What are you so worked up about?”

Thomas jerked away from her. “Did you do any research on that place at all, O’Malley?”

The anger in his voice stung her. She’d been working with Thomas since the beginning—long before Paranormal Research Team became a hit TV show. And now he was questioning her thoroughness? “I did plenty, Thomas. It’s a standard residual haunting—”

“Guess again, Red. This thing is intelligent—intelligent and dangerous.”

What did I miss?
she thought.

“Get dressed. I’ll tell you about it on the way. Come on! We’re wasting time!”

* * * *

The tyres squealed as Thomas gunned the Paranormal Research Team van out of the parking ramp and onto the deserted downtown street.

“Left at the lights,” Bridget directed, then glanced at Mike in the back seat. He shrugged. She was confused and shaken by Thomas’ demeanour. “Thomas…please. What the hell is going on?”

Thomas pulled out his cell phone, opened his email programme and passed it to Bridget. “This was waiting in my inbox when the plane landed.”

Bridget stared at the screen. The subject line read RE: Bijou Theatre Investigation—URGENT! “Who’s John Rudolph?”

“Fan of the show—retired doc from the state mental institution. He follows the blog and saw Mike’s post about the investigation. Just open the attachment.”

Bridget touched the paperclip icon and waited for the image to fill the tiny screen. It was a scan of a file from the State Hospital’s Psychiatric Department. “1974,” Bridget read aloud, “Who’s Tanya Jameson?”

Thomas glared at her then turned his attention back to the road. “The last medium to make contact with that freak. Just read.”