scare the shit out of him. There is the suited guy and his thug, who is riding John’s soul like they’re on their fifth date.”
This surprised him. “You gave no indication that the ghosts were in the room.”
“They weren’t at first, and they aren’t now. They’ve headed to the bar, I hope.”
“Do you think you could give me a better heads-up next time?”
“You seemed to pick up pretty quick without the heads-up,” Mia said, winding her hand as if she were filming with an antique camera.
“Thanks.”
“Do you think we could go back on com now?”
“Yes,” Burt said, not sure how his chastisement had changed so radically.
“Mia on com. How’s my John?” Mia asked.
“What to rephrase that?” Ted asked.
“How is our John?” Mia tried.
“John is suited up and waiting for you and Burt, just outside the bar with Mike. We already have two stationary cameras set up. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Mia said and waited for Burt at the door.
They walked past the next two interviewees. Burt stopped to tell them that they would be back in a half hour, so they should make themselves comfortable.
“Come on, Burt,” Mia said impatiently.
“Those are the bigwigs, the ones who are paying us,” he said quietly through his teeth.
“Oh, do you think they want to come?” Mia asked.
Burt put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shove. “No.”
“K.”
Mia had vested-John behind the bar taking inventory. She sat on a barstool, doing a remarkable job of looking like a floozy. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail, taken off the cardigan, and tucked her tank into her pants until she could see the top of her bra.
Burt stood in the opposite corner, filming John.
John got up and turned around.
Mia followed his eyes to the corner. This time, Mia had rehearsed John to say, “What can I get you, sir?”
“He looks like a gin martini man to me, Johnny,” Mia said in a Betty Boop voice.
The pinstripe-suited man moved over and sat down next to Mia. “Make it two,” he said, leering at her.
“What about your friend? He looks thirsty,” Mia said.
The thug who was attached to John moved out of him and sat on the other side of Mia.
“Mia, nice to meetcha,” she said, offering her gloved hand.
The goon mumbled something.
Mia looked over at the suited guy and darted her eyes to the goon.
“His name is Billy. I’m Richard.”
“Oh, Richard as in Dick or Richarrrrd as the French would say?” Mia flirted.
“Dick, I mean Richard.”
“Nice to meet you Richard, and Billy. What brings you to this dump?”
“Died here. I died of thirst, and Billy here had a heart attack.”
“Hell of a way to go.”
John finished mixing the martinis. He poured three glasses. Mia picked up hers and toasted. “To two of the nicest guys, my mother never wanted me to bring home.” She giggled.
Richard raised the glass and clinked it with Mia’s. Billy mumbled something and pointed to something in the middle of the room.
Mia turned around but didn’t see anything. Richard did.
“I’m afraid, doll, I hear the missus, and she’s calling me home. Come on, Billy. It’s last call.”
The two ghosts moved quickly into the light.
“And cut,” Mia said.
John enthusiastically pumped Mia’s hand again, thanking her. “How did you know?”
“I wasn’t positive, but I think that the guy just wanted a drink. When you thought he was another worker and slammed the door shut, he took offense. Billy helped him out. So I thought, if we take the same situation but change the results, it might be enough to pull the light to the two goons.”
“Your Betty Boop was inspired,” he said.
“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few interviews to do before I can take a nap. Tonight, I fear, is going to be a busy one,” Mia told the bartender.
“Did you taste it?”
“The martini, no.” Mia walked over and took a sip. She gave