Free Ghost Camera by Darcy Coates Page A

camera in the study.”
    Bree chewed her lip for a second, then she nodded, tossed her bag over her shoulder and marched into the foyer. Jenine sat on one of the kitchen chairs to wait, her towel draped over her lap and her damp hair sticking to her neck.
    “Can I ask you something?” Jenine leaned forward and lowered her voice. “After everything you went through with Becca, what did Bree say to change your mind? She didn’t… threaten you or anything, did she?”
    Richard let his face relax into a wry smile. “Unless emotional blackmailing counts, no.”
    “What then? Why didn’t she want me to hear?”
    He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “She said she couldn’t stand knowing she’d encouraged you to take more pictures. She said she wanted to try anything, no matter how slim the chance, to buy you some time. She said she didn’t want to die with your blood on her hands.”
    Jenine groaned. Stupid, sweet Bree. If she had any sense, she would have been spending her last days with Travis.
    “This isn’t going to work, is it?” she asked Richard.
    He considered his answer carefully before speaking. “It’s not impossible…”
    “But you don’t think it will work.”
    “No.” He looked ten years older than he had that afternoon. “No, I don’t believe it will.”
    The door swung open and slammed against the wall as Bree re-entered. She was towelling at her hair, which was wet again. Apparently she didn’t trust Richard enough to leave the camera in his study. “Did I miss anything?”
    “We’re just about ready now.” Richard plugged in the last cable, which was connected to a microphone. “I built this device myself nearly a decade ago. Under normal circumstances, it’s not strong enough to pick up much more than faint sounds, but—well, I don’t expect that will be a problem tonight.” Sweat beading on his forehead, he glanced at Jenine and Bree. “Speak clearly when you ask questions, and try not to interrupt them when they’re talking. That seems to make them angry. And keep your voice quiet. They don’t have any trouble hearing whispers.” He pressed a button and the machine hummed into life.
    Jenine and Bree scraped their chairs closer together. In the silence, Jenine could hear the rain roaring through the trees’ leaves and drumming on the windows. The machine was making a faint, almost inaudible whirring. Then a third noise became audible: a woman’s voice, speaking rapidly.
    “You don’t understand. You do not understand! You don’t understand…”
    Richard motioned for the friends to stay quiet, then he leaned close to the microphone. “My name is Richard Holt. Can you hear me?”
    The voice abruptly fell silent.
    Jenine counted the seconds : One, two, three, four, then the woman spoke again. “ You don’t understand .”
    “Tell me what I don’t understand,” Richard said, keeping his voice slow, clear and calm.
    “Who are you? I don’t talk to you. I want the girl.” The voice was winding up, becoming higher and tighter.
    Jenine could hear a rumble in the background but couldn’t make out what it was.
    “I am her friend,” Richard said. “She would like to know why you follow her.”
    “ You don’t understand. ”
    “Explain it to me, then.”
    “Give her to me.” The voice was stronger, harsher and demanding.
    Richard paused for a second before replying. “She would like to end this business with your realm. She wishes to be left alone.”
    Silence for a second, then the voice broke out into something resembling laughter. It was the single worst sound Jenine had ever heard; a twisted mockery of the real thing. The steady “ha, ha, ha, ha,” was completely devoid of joy, but filled with cold intent. The woman kept making that same sound, like a broken record, and the rumbling noise in the background grew in volume, becoming clearer. Other voices—dozens, maybe hundreds of them—added their empty laugher and cold voices to hers, until it grew