Free Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio

asked
her.
    “No. It’s horseshit.”
    “Let me guess,” Zach said. “Old Man
Winkler?”
    “It’s not funny.” Sara put her hand on her
hip. “We wasted most of the morning here, and we don’t even have a client
walkthrough.”
    “What the hell was the state thinking
sending us a schlock like that?” Zach asked.
    “Follow the money, my friends,” Bryce said.
“Follow the money.”
    After less than twenty-four hours, Bryce’s
arrogance had worn thin, but Zach was curious as to his theory. “What do you
mean?”
    “Okay. It’s like this. They can’t tear this
place down because of this landmark status or whatever, right?”
    He waited a second for confirmation, but
Zach said nothing. Sara merely twirled her hand for him to continue.
    “So like, they want to sell this place,” he
said. “They give a shit if it’s haunted or not. All they need is the publicity.
From what I’ve heard, Illinois is one of the more ‘ethically casual’ states in
the country right?” Bryce was one of those people who used his fingers as quotation
marks around words when he spoke.
    “Go on, please,” Zach said.
    “Dude, they need the publicity. That’s where
we come in. If we show that it’s not haunted…Boom! They sell it off or can
justify reopening it as some hospital or something. Hell, probably somebody’s
brother-in-law gets the construction contract to gut the place and—”
    “And if it is?” Zach asked.
    “And if it is, what?”
    “And if it’s haunted ?”
    “If it’s haunted, and we can prove it…”
Bryce’s face took on a smug satisfaction.
    Zach looked at Sara; she wasn’t getting it
either.
    Bryce sighed and rolled his eyes. “This
isn’t 1905. Do you know how many people out there are into the paranormal?
Dude, why do you think we and a dozen others like us have TV shows in
the first place? You know how many rich people would love to own a ‘verified’
haunted asylum built in the 1800s? I bet there are tax benefits up the yin yang
to owning a federally protected landmark. They come in and give tours of the
place. Or they turn it into some damn bed and breakfast. I dunno.”
    “A bed and breakfast?” Zach echoed.
“Seriously?”
    “Okay, maybe not that, but they could turn
it into something....something cool.”
    Zach hated to admit it, but Bryce made
sense—at least a little. “So why send us Winkler, then?”
    Bryce shrugged. “He’s the perfect guy for
the job. Whoever’s pulling the strings knows how he feels about this place, how
he’ll come across on TV. What better person to represent their official
nonchalance? This way, they don’t look pushy or desperate. We’re practically
their real estate brokers. All they have to do is sit back and field offers!”
    “So, come on guys,” Sara said. “What
difference does it make? We’ve got a show to do. We need to film a tour of the
grounds. Ideas? Suggest—”
    “I’ve got one,” Bryce said.
    “Go.” Sara pointed as though they were on
camera.
    “Well, Patrizia is a bit put out.” Bryce
eyed Zach. “She didn’t get any air time earlier and she helped Wendy with the
historical research until the wee hours of the night. I say we have her host a
tour of the place based on her research. We explain on the air that there’s no
guide from the state because we couldn’t get anyone willing to brave the
infamous Rosewood Asylum.”
    Zach wondered how Bryce had done it. In one
fell swoop, he’d gone from numbskull to white knight. He’d not only rescued
Patrizia, but had restored balance to Sara’s show. Worst of all, he’d slyly
introduced a slightly dishonest spin that not only seemed justified but
entertaining. Sara said nothing, but by the way she gazed at Bryce, she could
have been about to say, “My hero.”

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Even with the doors open an hour, they
hadn’t completely aired out Rosewood’s stale air. Angel had managed to sweep a
full box worth of dirt and dust out of the lobby with a broom