Spirits of the Pirate House (27 page)

“Uh-huh,” said Bortnicker devilishly as he
popped
Yellow Submarine
into the console. “Hey, Chappy, your
band was amazing last night. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Yeah,” agreed T.J., “it was a great
time.”

“You
know
it had to be great if these
two would actually get on the dance floor,” joked LouAnne.

“Oh, I don’t know, Miss LouAnne,” said Chappy
wryly, “I believe the young gentlemen comported themselves quite
admirably. There was a sense of romance in the air, I think.” He
gave Bortnicker, who turned beet red, a conspiratorial wink.

“Do you think it’s gonna rain, Chappy?” said
T.J., tactfully changing the subject.

“I think you can count on it before the
night’s out,” said the driver. “Hopefully it will blow through
quickly.”

“Think Sir William’s going to show up?” asked
LouAnne as she watched the swishing palm trees fly by.

“I couldn’t say. I’m just sitting here
watching the wheels go round and round.”

“Hey, that’s from a John Lennon song!”
remarked Bortnicker proudly.

“And where do you think
he
got the
phrase?” smiled Chapford.

* * * *

“Wow,” said Bortnicker as the minivan began
its climb up the driveway. “Looks like the captain was living
large.”

“It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever
seen,” marveled LouAnne. “Like a fairy tale.”

“Yeah,” cautioned T.J., “but remember, we’re
looking for what’s inside, and it might not be too pleasant.”

As they pulled up to the ornate, hand-carved
teak door, Mike came outside, his body exuding nervousness and
excitement. “Welcome to Hibiscus House,” he said with a grand sweep
of his arm, “home to Bermuda’s very own slave-driving pirate,
William Tarver.”

As the kids got out, Weinstein jogged around
the car to the driver’s side window. “What’s your plan, Chappy?” he
said.

“I think I’ll just park off to the side and
wait it out,” he said calmly. “No sense in going all the way back
home. I brought a book, and I might just take a nap as well.” What
he didn’t say was that he wanted to be right there if someone was
injured or the police had to be summoned quickly.

“Fine with me,” answered Weinstein.

As if on cue, Tom Sr. cruised into the estate
entrance, followed by Jasper Goodwin’s vintage Toyota, from which
Ronnie alighted. Jasper parked near Chappy and approached Tom Sr.,
who was removing his helmet. “So good to see you again, Tom,” he
said. “Seems like a lot has changed since our merry feast a few
nights ago after we found the bell.”

“Yes,” said Tom Sr., shaking his hand in
greeting. “The kids told me all about the slave find. Sorry it came
out that way.”

“What’s done is done. I’m just concerned
about my daughter’s well-being now. Will you be sure to keep an eye
on her tonight? She’s been rather agitated since that last
dive.”

“We’ll all keep our eyes open tonight, don’t
you worry. And I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

“Thank you.” The Divemaster looked skyward at
the gathering storm clouds. “Even so, Veronique has my cell number,
if I can be of any assistance.”

“I’m sure it’ll go just fine,” Tom Sr. said.
“Mike’s an old pro at conducting these investigations.”

“You’re probably right,” sighed Goodwin.
“It’s just that ... there’s something
wrong
with this house.
I just can’t say quite what.” With that he returned to the car and
eased off down the driveway.

“Glad you made it,” said Bortnicker to
Ronnie, who was dressed in a black tee shirt and shorts.

She gave him a quick hug. “Wouldn’t miss it
for the world.”

“Okay, dudes,” said Mike, calling the teens
together on the front entrance landing. “Time for us to film our
intros. I’m going to do the greeting, which will play before the
dive sequences when we put the show together. Then, each of you
give a good sound bite of what you’ll be looking for tonight in our
first investigation. Got it?”

“Got it,” they said in unison.

“Okay, then,” he said, handing LouAnne the
camcorder. “If you’ll do the honors, I’ll get things started.”

She took the camera and counted in from
three, then gave a quick thumbs-up.

“Behind me is Hibiscus House, the palatial
mansion built by Sir William Tarver on the idyllic island of
Bermuda in the 1700s. For many years it has been one of the most
visited spots on the island, but it has been vacant for the past
six months.

“Hibiscus House has always been active in the
paranormal sense, but apparently things have ratcheted up to the
point where nobody wants to work here.

“Is Hibiscus House cursed? Is the ghost of
William Tarver haunting these grounds, and what secrets are there
to discover about Bermuda’s most famous pirate?

“We’re here to find out. I have assembled a
team of talented teenaged ghost chasers who will try to get to the
bottom of this mystery—”

A rumble of thunder briefly interrupted
Weinstein, who then added, “A perfect evening for a haunting,
wouldn’t you agree? Welcome to
Junior Gonzo Ghost Chasers
,
Bermuda.”

“Great job, Mike,” said LouAnne, clicking
off.

“Yeah,” agreed Bortnicker, “and the
background thunder was cool!”

Weinstein took the camcorder from LouAnne.
“Okay,” he said, “you’re up first, babe. Smile big and tell us what
you’re looking for tonight.”

“During tonight’s investigation I want to
contribute a little more than I have been,” she said confidently.
“Since I wasn’t a participant on our two dives, I hope to find out
more about Sir William by actually recording him.”

Bortnicker shot a wink to Ronnie, who stood
behind Mike, and said, “We’ve found out some pretty nasty stuff
about William Tarver on our dives, like the fact that he owned
slaves. I want him to show up so I can confront him on this and
find out how he felt living like a king while others suffered.”

T.J. offered, “William Tarver seems to be a
man of contradictions who’s always been looked at as a Bermudian
hero. I want to find out his true colors and set history
straight.”

“Outstanding, dudes!” cried Mike. “If this is
any indication, tonight’s gonna be awesome. Let’s go inside and
I’ll show you the layout.”

The entourage, save for Chappy, who lowered
the seatback of the minivan for a snooze, ventured inside as the
first soft rain of the storm proceeded to fall. They began on the
second floor and toured the various bedrooms and suites, gradually
making their way back down the grand staircase where, unbeknownst
to them, Willie B. had met his demise the previous night. Then it
was on to the sumptuous bedroom of William Tarver, which looked out
on the rear gallery and provided sweeping views of the fields where
his slaves toiled in the Bermuda sun. They finished in the library
under the glowering eyes of Tarver’s portrait.

The house itself was immaculate; not one
piece of furniture or the Irish lace doilies that protected them
was out of place. The entire mansion smelled of old wood and
polish.

“Get your bearings now,” reminded Mike, “and
try to remember where everything is, because when we go ‘lights
out’ for the investigation it’s going to be pretty weird, at least
at first.” He led them back down the long ground floor hallway to
the entrance foyer, where he’d set up a bank of computer terminals
that would monitor virtually every passageway and room in the
house. With Tom Sr. looking on he pointed out the locations of
static night vision cameras he’d set up that afternoon. “They’ll
constantly be recording, so we’ll pick up any anomalies that
surface. If Tom or I see something on the DVR’s, say, in one of the
upstairs rooms, we’ll direct one of you teams to get right on
it.”

“What about handhelds?” asked T.J.

“Each team will have one infrared camcorder
and an EVP recorder.”

“Could you explain that to me?” asked Ronnie.
“I don’t watch too many ghost shows over here.”

“No problem,” smiled Mike. “EVP stands for
electronic voice phenomena. It’s been found that spirits can
manifest themselves through sound waves that are not readily picked
up by the human ear. These recorders are tuned at a much higher
frequency so that if you ask a question, and there’s a spirit
present, you might just hear a response when you play back the
tape.”

“For real?” asked Ronnie skeptically.

“Oh yeah,” said Mike assuredly. “We get some
feedback almost every investigation. Now, in some cases the words
or sounds might be garbled or very faint, but with computer
enhancement, we’ve actually captured intelligent responses.”

“And have you actually had a ghost, you know,
show up?” she questioned, her eyebrow arched.

“Over the first few seasons of the show we’ve
had shadow figures, knocking, and stuff falling or even being
thrown around in the dark, but we have yet to experience a full
manifestation. But your three buddies here are living proof that
ghosts exist. Right, dudes?”

“I know it sounds crazy, Ronnie,” said T.J.,
“but believe me, last year we were talking to a ghost who seemed as
real as you or me.”

“I know,” she said. “Bortnicker kind of
filled me in on your adventures from Gettysburg, although I’d still
have to see it for myself to become a believer.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
said Bortnicker.

“That’s why we’re
all
here,” said
Mike. “That’s why millions of people tune into
Gonzo Ghost
Chasers
every week, and other paranormal shows. We all want to
be the first to capture a full body apparition on video. It’s the
holy grail of paranormal investigating. And you guys, based on
what’s happened to you already, have as good a shot as any to be
the first.” His passionate words hung in the air.

“But no pressure, right?” joked Bortnicker,
breaking the tension.

Another rumble of thunder rolled across the
island, causing vibrations throughout the house. “This could be
problematic,” grumbled Mike. “Lots of extraneous noise outside can
wreak havoc on the audio, and if we get a lot of lightning there
will be shadows flying all over the place.”

“What if we lose power?” asked Ronnie. “That
happens a lot here with tropical storms.”

“Well,” sighed Mike, “the one thing we
weren’t able to lug over here was a generator, and I couldn’t find
one on the island that would suit our needs. My bad.”

“Aw, c’mon, Mike,” said Bortnicker. “You
couldn’t think of
everything
.”

“I agree,” said Tom Sr. “The command post
you’ve established here is pretty impressive.”

“Yeah,” said T.J., “and it’s not like the
famous Bermuda National Heritage Trust was killing themselves to
help you out.”

Mike held out a hand to stop them. “Listen,
dudes,” he said, “it’s as simple as this. If we lose power, you’ll
still have the small light on your camcorder, and I’m going to give
LouAnne and Ronnie a flashlight to stick in their pocket. T.J. and
Bortnicker will also have a walkie-talkie clipped on their belts,
so we’ll always be in communication.” He looked at his watch. “With
the stormy conditions outside, I estimate that we’ll lose most of
our sunlight within the hour. Then we’ll go lights out. Until then,
I want both teams to take all their equipment and become
comfortable with it. We’ll also do a walkie-talkie check.
Okay?”

“Got it,” said T.J., offering Bortnicker a
high five.

As the two teams separated, Ronnie latched on
to Bortnicker’s arm with a force that made him flinch. “Oww!” he
cried. “I didn’t know you were so strong.”

“It’s all those years of lugging diving
tanks, I guess,” she said apologetically. “And maybe because I’m,
ah, a bit afraid of the dark.”

He turned to her, his eyes widening behind
his Coke-bottle glasses. “You wait until
now
to tell me? Are
you sure you’re up for this, Ronnie? You can still back out—”

“Just stay close to me,” she whispered, and
brushed his cheek with her lips.

“No problem there,” he smirked.

* * * *

It was just before 8:00 p.m. when the team
gathered around the command post. All the equipment had been
checked and re-checked; it was time to get underway.

“Okay, dudes,” said Mike, as rain drummed on
the windows, “we’ve got ten rooms upstairs: five on each side of
the hallway, and eight down here, five and three. Bortnicker and
Ronnie, you start up top. T.J. and LouAnne, cover the first floor.
Then you’ll switch.” He paused, as if searching for the appropriate
words.

“Now remember,” he began, “that this is a
serious investigation. We’ve done a lot of amazing groundwork
already, with our two dives. But don’t forget that the thing that
makes
Gonzo Ghost Chasers
different than the other
paranormal shows out there is our style. We like to be
provocational and confrontational. When you’re asking questions on
the EVP recorders, don’t be afraid you’ll hurt the feelings of
William Tarver or anyone else. Make sure your questions are stated
in a way that can be answered with simple responses. Also be sure
to allow long pauses after questions so the spirit can respond
clearly. You want to be a little on the dramatic side? Hey, go for
it. This is Hollywood, after all.”

The last comment drew nervous chuckles from
the teens, except for Ronnie, who remained stone-faced.

“If there’s an emergency, both of you boys
have the walkie-talkies. Tom and I aren’t going to move from this
post unless you need us. Comprendo?”

They all nodded.

“Okay then, at the beginning of each
investigation we have a custom with our team. Everybody huddle up
and put your hands in.”

This they did, their bodies trembling with
excitement.

“Gonzos rule, on three. One, two, three.”

“Gonzos rule!” they cried aloud, and the
sound of their cheer echoed throughout the halls as the first crack
of lightning cast an eerie flash of light on Hibiscus House.