The Supernaturals (8 page)

“Yes, we have a large broadcast van and tech-crew truck coming in about an hour; could you let them in when they arrive?”

“Well, Miss, I guess I will, since that’s the job they pay me to do.”

As Greg climbed back into the van, Kelly watched as the middle aged man unlocked the thick chain holding the two halves of the wooden gate securely. His eyes never traveled over to the strangers as he pulled the chain through. It was as if he had no interest in them whatsoever. As he pulled open the left side of the double gate, which was plenty wide enough for them to get the van through, he tipped his hat as Greg pulled in.

“Thank you,” Kelly said as they passed, but the large man said nothing.

“Friendly folk out here in the wilds of Pennsylvania, I must say,” Sanborn quipped. Turning, he watched the man through the rear glass as he closed the gate behind them. Johansson looked their way, and a smile—or maybe more of a smirk—crossed the caretaker’s face as he shook his head. “Yeah…friendly folk…” Jason mumbled again, his words trailing off to nothing.

“You said the original Mr. Lindemann hunted this valley before he built Summer Place?”

“Yes, this used to be a hunting camp in the early 1880s.”

“I can just imagine this place back then. The deer had to be everywhere,” Paul ventured from the back.

Kelly, in the front seat, took the opportunity to examine Summer Place as they approached on the circular drive. As she took it all in, she felt in turn as if it were examining her. She jotted the thought down in her notebook for use in the script.

“
It was an evil house from the beginning;
a house that was born bad.”

“What—what was that?” Jason asked.

“Oh, just a quote from Shirley Jackson’s book,” Kelly answered, half-turning to smile at Sanborn.

The long circular drive led to massive front steps, covered by a roof that sent a high gable climbing toward the sky. A large old-fashioned wood carved chandelier hung low as the van drove under the portico and parked.

“I don’t see any valet,” Greg said, making the others chuckle in the backseat.
 

Kelly tossed her notebook into her bag, then grabbed her briefcase and stepped out of the van. The large veranda was laden with chaise lounges, and actual swinging bench seats hung from the thick-timbered rafters of the wraparound porch overhang.

“I have to admit, this place is something. I could see why the rich and famous would come here to get away from the grind of counting money,” Paul sniped as he stood and stretched. He turned and looked up the large stone staircase leading to the massive double doors and suddenly went rigid. A woman was standing at the top of the stone stairs, staring down at them.

Kelly had to smile. “Some ghost hunter you are.” Quickly, and with her best smile, she turned and bounded up the stone steps two at a time. “You must be Mrs. Johansson?”

“Yes, name’s Eunice. I was told you were fourteen?”

“We’re it for now. The other two vans will be along shortly.”

“Mr. Lindemann hasn’t arrived yet. I have instructions for you to start your lunch without him.”

“Thank you,” Kelly said as the tall woman started to turn away. She was dressed in regular denim jeans with a bright red blouse, and Kelly thought she looked nothing like a housekeeper of a mansion was supposed to look. She smiled, knowing that she had read too many haunted house books in her childhood. She had been expecting an old woman in a black dress who would issue dire warnings about the dark. “Uh, would you mind if I ask you just a question or two?”

The woman turned but kept walking. She was pretty, in a rough farmwoman kind of way. Kelly was having a hard time placing this attractive woman with the burly man at the front gate. She had to be his daughter, or his niece.

“Not at all, ask away,” she said. Her hand paused above the large door handle on the left.

The three men joined them at the front doors. Greg raised a brow as he took in Eunice Johansson and nodded his approval.

“I know you two,” she said looking at the show’s two hosts. “We watch your show religiously, right after
Wife Swap
.” She smiled, looking from Greg to Paul as if sizing them up, or as Greg was probably thinking,
down
. “That show’s a little spicier than yours, but you have your moments, too.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked closer at Greg. “I thought you would have been taller.”

“Camera angles,” Paul said, smiling.

“Do you and your family live on the property?” Kelly asked, getting the woman back on track.

“Yes, we live five miles down the road, in a house that was built especially for our family by the Lindemann’s.”

“So you’ve been in their employ for—”

“My family, along with my husband’s folk, have been in this valley since revolutionary times. However, we’ve only worked for the Lindemann’s since just before the war—World War Two, that is. My grandmother worked here when the house was first built, helping out with Mrs. Lindemann’s summer functions and all. That’s my husband, Charles, who let you in. You’ll also run into my four daughters and three boys around here. It takes all of us to cover the grounds and house full time during the summer months. The girls take turns going to school in the fall and winter.”

“Must be hell.” Kelly caught herself. “I mean, it must be hard to get the kids to school, living way out here.”

“My oldest girl is going to Penn State, thanks to the Lindemann Foundation. My children, like myself and their father, and my parents before, are homeschooled. We don’t take to the townspeople around here much, just as they don’t take to us. Never have.”

“Why is that?” Kelly asked.

“When our family was chosen long ago to caretake this place, others around here didn’t take too kindly to old man Lindemann’s choice; steady income, and all that. With the hard winters, jobs become scarce if you don’t work for one of the ski resorts. The Bright Waters folk keep clear of this place and spread their gossip, and lord knows if gossiping was a paying job there would be more than a fair share of other rich people here ‘bouts.”

“I see,” Kelly said.

“I’m sure you do, Miss. Now, if you’d like to follow me, I’ve set your lunch out in the formal dining room.”

“Thank you.”

Kelly, Greg, Jason and Paul entered the house for the first time. An immediate feeling of hominess came to them in the huge and comfortable foyer. Large landscape paintings of the local area were hung on thick, rich wood paneling around the welcoming entrance. Even a picture of George Washington hung above the large cloakroom that had obviously seen busier times. The smell of wood was everywhere and the bright sunshine was dispelling every bad thought the four may have had.

“Boy, this is something you would see in New York. These people had taste, simple but elegant.”

“Yes, it’s nice until you have to oil all of this wood and dust all the picture frames. Then it brings itself into perspective,” Eunice Johansson answered. She gestured for them to follow her. “You can just leave your coats on the cloak counter—I’ll hang them up later.”

They passed through the grand living room. Every piece of furniture was impeccably cleaned and dusted. The massive stone fireplace—twenty feet wide and twelve feet high—was cold and empty, but looked as if it would have been very warm and inviting in the early spring and late summer. Kelly could picture guests congregating here, drinking brandy and smoking cigars.

“I’m surprised there aren’t any animal head trophies on the walls,” Paul said.

“The Lindemann family didn’t hunt on the property after the house was built. The entire estate is free of hunters, and the animals here ‘bouts know they’re safe anywhere in the valley. That was always one rule that was, and is, strictly enforced.”

Kelly wondered who did the enforcing of the Lindemann laws. She decided she would ask later and wrote down the thought on her notepad.

They followed the housekeeper through the arched doorway and into the formal dining room. They all had to stop as they took in the fifty-foot cherry table centered in the room. The ceiling that hung over it was forty feet above them and had etched flowers in the plaster. Down at the far end of this expansive table was their lunch. A silver service waited on a large credenza with gleaming white china stacked beside it.

“Oh, something a little less troubling would have been fine,” said Kelly turning to Mrs. Johansson.

“Was no trouble, I enjoy cooking for guests of Mr. Lindemann. I hope you like brook trout; I also have a nice Chicken Kiev for anyone who doesn’t like fish. There is a bar to your left, and water on the table. Please keep to the main floor until Mr. Lindemann arrives.” She looked at her wristwatch. “He should be along any time now. I have to excuse myself, my family and I must be—”

“Leaving before it gets dark?” Greg asked with a mysterious air to his voice.

The woman smiled at Greg as if he were just an obstinate child.

“Not at all. We still have chores to do before three, and tonight
is
American Idol night. We like to leave at three and get our own chores done at home, and then eat early so we can watch people make fools of themselves.”

“Oh, I…”

“Thank you, Mrs. Johansson, we appreciate it,” Kelly said with a smile. She eyed Greg, who turned away, feeling rather stupid for what he had said about the darkness. Still, Kelly caught the drift when the housekeeper said
watching people makes fools of themselves.
She had given away her true thoughts on
Hunters of the Paranormal.

“Mrs. Johansson, can I ask one more question?”

The woman stopped and turned with her smile still in place, but Kelly could tell that the housekeeper had anticipated her question and put on her happy face for the answer that was to come.

“Young lady, I don’t know anything about what has gone on here. To us this is just a house. We have from time to time had some excitement out here, and have had to clean up some god-awful messes by vandals and such—and that man, Professor Kennedy. However, if you’re going to ask me if this place bothers us, or if we have ever experienced anything like what your show investigates, the answer is no. We love this house and the property. It provides for my family, so how could that be bad?”

Kelly smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

The housekeeper nodded her head and then turned away. “Just leave everything on the table and I’ll clean up in the morning. The refrigerator and pantry are full. If you would like something to eat this evening, just help yourselves.”

“Mr. Lindemann can afford all of this? I thought his money was tight?” Sanborn asked.

 
“We’re paid through the Lindemann Foundation,” Eunice said. “The upkeep, the food, the repairs, our paychecks, all of it comes from an office in Philadelphia. Now,” she said looking at her watch, “have a good evening.”

The four of them watched her leave. Jason slapped his hands together and started for the table. He stopped when Kelly placed her manicured fingers on his shoulder.

“Do you for one minute think we’re going to eat when we have this place to ourselves?”

“But the food—”

“The housekeeper said to stay put until Mr. Lindemann—” Greg started to say but stopped when he saw the mischievous look on Kelly’s face.

She smiled and started pulling at Jason’s sleeve, tugging him away from the food and cutting off Greg’s concern.

“I checked. Wallace Lindemann has already cashed the check from the network. What’s he going to do, give back the money because we went exploring?”

The men exchanged uneasy looks.

“Okay, guys. It’s time to introduce ourselves to Summer Place.”

Los Angeles, CA

Lionel Peterson listened to the voices of the Chairman of the Board, Abe Feuerstein, and CEO Garth Timberline, who had initiated the conference call from corporate headquarters in New York. He had to assume Kelly Delaphoy had called them to say she had received grief from him in the production meeting, and that they had waited a few days to call in order to cover the fact that she had done so.

He gestured for his assistant to pour him a drink from his private bar in the corner of the spacious office, even though it was only ten-thirty in the morning.

“I understand you’ve given her a blank check for this Halloween special. That doesn’t alleviate the fact that we have concerns about covering the cost through sponsorship. With the high price of ad time, we’ve already had three sponsors decline. Eight hours of uninterrupted feed is going to cost us in revenue, and it will totally wipe out our late night lineup.”