Prologue.
Christmas Village - Fiona
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed as I watched the tree lights outside flicker, go out, then come back on. Anxiously, I turned to Simon.
“We need to get someone in.” Simon prodded the turkey he’d just taken out of the oven.
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “I’ll call Connor.”
“Good idea. No! Not the damn turkey!” Simon yelled and lunged forward. Shocked, I gaped as the bird stood on its wonderfully basted, cooked legs and started scurrying across the worktop.
I couldn’t help it and screamed. Simon skidded to a halt as the turkey began doing what could only be called the cancan.
“Ah, no, I can’t watch,” I cried.
“Shit, I spent ages cooking that damn bird!” Simon yelled and lunged.
I shrieked as the turkey danced sideways, but Simon took it down like a professional running back. Juice spurted everywhere, and Simon’s tee became soaked with fat.
“Ow, ow, it’s hot!” Simon shouted and dumped the turkey on its cooling plate. The turkey shuffled, and wincing, I pointed a finger.
“Don’t you dare move! Simon, go shower… what on earth… nope, I can’t do this anymore!” I exclaimed, yanking my phone out.
Simon offered me a baleful look, and I shook my head. Tackling the turkey indeed. Why on earth would anyone do that? Then again, why wasn’t I fazed by a dancing turkey? These things happened a lot around here.
I heard a rattle and turned a beady eye on our dinner.
I’d accepted a while back that the town was haunted, but I couldn’t imagine my guests being overjoyed by a dancing turkey! Actually, they probably wouldn’t be happy with any of the shenanigans happening here.
Determined to get help, I yanked out my cell and dialled our old friend, Connor Cartwright. He loved the paranormal and would easily deal with this.
Chapter One.
Callie – June
Blast, we’d only just arrived at our next haunting and it had been cancelled. We’d been due to investigate a cemetery and a famous haunted house in New York State. Five minutes ago, I’d taken a call from the owners, who claimed they were having some required work done.
That had just thrown one part of my investigation awry, and the second location didn’t require all of us. Now I had a dilemma. What should I do? We couldn’t waste the filming time doing nothing, or we’d be behind schedule.
Agitated, I looked up as Connor Cartwright entered the tour bus. He was new and had been amazing so far. Connor had been a very famous investigator until he left his team, who had faked events.
“What’s up?”
“The house was cancelled, which has thrown our plans into disarray. I’m not sure if we should continue with just the graveyard, but honestly, we only need half a team on that.”
“Hey, don’t worry, I know the cemetery people. If you want, I’ll call them and explain, and we can reschedule,” Connor offered.
“Would you mind? It’s too late to book somewhere else. Damn it!” I cursed. This was an investigation I’d been excited to conduct.
“I’ve a suggestion,” he said, and my head snapped up.
“Oh?”
“Some friends bought a small holiday village in the Beartooth Mountains in Wyoming. Simon and Fiona have been working on making it an all-year-round Christmas Town. There’s a Swiss-style hotel there and twenty-five wooden chalets. But they’ve been getting a lot of paranormal activity. Fiona contacted me asking if we could investigate. They’re planning to open at the end of July, so we could go now.”
“But we’d be cancelling on the cemetery; that makes us look unreliable,” I argued.
“No, Callie, honestly, I know some of the board of trustees. Let me contact them and feel them out,” Connor offered.
