An Uninvited Ghost by E.J. Copperman Read Free Book Online Page A

card, and I took it.
    The card read, “Trent Avalon, executive producer: Down the Shore .” It bore the logo, in the top left corner, of VidChannel, a cable network that specialized in reality television and game shows aimed at an audience of teenagers and college students.
    But apparently it also attracted some senior citizen viewers, because my guests were absolutely agog over Trent, who had apparently been regaling them with tales of his television exploits.
    “Mr. Avalon,” I said, “I don’t mean to be insulting, but what does your TV show have to do with me?”
    Warren’s eyes widened. “You’re not a fan of Down the Shore ?” he asked. “I’m absolutely addicted to it!”
    “Not everyone is in our target demographic, Warren,” Trent assured him, then turned his attention back to me. “I’m here to discuss the possibility of us doing a little business together, Ms. Kerby.”
    That wrinkled my brow, all right. “I’m in the guesthouse business, Mr. Avalon,” I said. “You do television. Do you need to have some people stay here at the house?”
    “More or less,” he said. “Is there someplace we can . . .”
    “He wants to have the next season take place here !” Warren beamed. “Oh Alison, you really have to say yes!”

Four
    “They’re going to film a TV show in your house?” My best friend, Jeannie Rogers, four months pregnant and showing just enough that you wouldn’t think she’d just gained a little weight, was still walking faster than me on our trek from Stud Muffin, the local bakery café, to the Harbor Haven police headquarters. Jeannie was determined to gain weight only in her baby area and nowhere else, so she had decided to exercise until her doctor told her to stop. So far, her doctor had not told Jeannie to stop.
    “Well, I have Larry going over the paperwork, but they’re in a hurry, so I’ll know by this afternoon,” I said. Larry Morwitz is my lawyer, and even though the only time we’d ever done business before was when he represented me in the divorce from The Swine, I knew he could handle reading a contract.
    “What’s it about?” Jeannie asked. The sun shone brightly on her face, and she drank it in. Within six weeks, it would start getting warm, then hot in the afternoons, and neither of us would be walking this quickly, I’d bet. At least Jeannie would have the baby as an excuse.
    “It’s something called Down the Shore ,” I told her. “It’s . . .”
    “Omigod! They’re filming Down the Shore at your house? I love that show!” Jeannie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at me. “How did you manage that?”
    I was a couple of steps ahead before I realized she’d stopped. “The house they were going to use burned down,” I said. “A show about a bunch of drunken kids looking for sex in our own backyard? You watch that?”
    “Oh, it’s way more than that,” Jeannie answered, waving a hand. She started to walk again, and I fell into step with her, but it was hard to keep up. “These kids put on such an attitude, and they think they’re entitled to, like, everything. It’s a riot!”
    “It sounds disgusting.”
    “It is. That’s the best part. There was this one show where this guy, he calls himself Mistah Motion, he went to the Stone Pony, where Bruce Springsteen used to play, and tried to get onstage to sing ‘Born in the USA.’ They threw him out the back door into a Dumpster!” She practically doubled over with laughter.
    I shook my head. I was getting a tidy sum for me (a pittance in the TV business, no doubt, as VidChannel was sort of MTV’s poorer cousin), and was already beginning to question my decision to take it. The world had gone crazy while I slept one night, and I’d missed it. Now I was living in a house with ghosts and senior citizens, and by this evening it was likely to be invaded by four young people, each hoping for fame by being more obnoxious than the other three.
    I used to wonder why people made New Jersey