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.
I nodded. This was bad timing. The owners of the house said we could attend in fourteen days. Luckily, there’d been a ten-day break scheduled at the end of the investigation, which meant we could come back and continue without disrupting plans.
“Callie, you’re not going to believe this,” Connor stated, returning and looking amused.
“What?”
“The cemetery is off-limits. A water main broke, flooding the land. It was fixed yesterday, but they’ve got to wait for the flood to drain away. They said they can book us in, in fourteen days.”
Bemused, I began laughing. “Really?”
“Yes.” Connor chuckled.
“Okay, it’s too long a drive to reach Wyoming. Let’s see if I can organise a flight and stuff. Give me your friends’ details, I’ll contact them.”
“I’ve already called. Fiona said to come asap. Things are ramping up there. They’ve just had a dancing turkey.”
“Grab the others, Connor, we need to get to the airport, store the vehicles, and move our equipment,” I stated.
The door opened, and Sunny shoved his head in. “Got a plan?”
“Can you drive the RV to the airport? We’re going to Wyoming,” I said.
“Sure. You coming with me?”
“Do you mind my staying here to figure out what gear we require?”
Sunny smiled. “Whatever you need, baby. I’ll get the team together.”
Connor
“Connor, can you give us some background, please? Usually, we do this on the tour bus, but we’ve had to leave that behind,” Callie said.
“Sure.” I checked everyone was present and spotted Phil and Freddie, both filming. We were on a private aeroplane that Callie had hired. The equipment was stored in the tiny hold.
“Okay, so Christmas Village was a former ski and winter sports area. Fiona and Simon are my friends from university. Last Christmas, Simon retired from his job, where he’d made a bundle of money, and they bought the resort.
They’ve spent the last year restoring and converting it into their ideal Christmas resort. ”
“What?” Sunny asked. “I’m sure you just said it’s a Christmas town.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Connor, it’s June,” Sunny exclaimed.
“Yup, well done,” Callie teased.
Sunny glowered and slumped in his chair.
“Christmas Village is set high in the Beartooth Mountains, on the Wyoming side, in a valley that has snow all year round. It resembles Santa’s North Pole. They’ve worked really hard to establish themselves there.
“They have the hotel and twenty-five wooden cabins. A Santa’s village was built with shops, Santa’s House, Elf homes, and a toy factory. The village has everything to delight visitors, including a magical tunnel that ‘transports’ you to the North Pole—and there’s been activity there, too.”
“What are they getting?” Jack asked.
“From the moment they started construction, weird things began happening. Tools and furniture moving, strange sounds, and footprints in the snow where nobody has walked. They’ve heard voices and seen figures, but when they’ve turned around, nobody’s there,” I said.
“Any threats?” Michelle, our exorcist and a close friend, asked.
“Depends on what you call threats. Apparently, yesterday a turkey got up off its plate and did the cancan dance,” I explained.
Jack gaped and wasn’t alone. “Seriously, a dancing turkey?”
“Yeah. Fiona sent the security footage.” I turned and hit the play button on the laptop I’d set up. Everyone, including myself, gasped as Simon tackled the bird.
“Holy shit,” Jack exclaimed, laughing, and rewinding it to watch again. Although the bird was haunted, it was funny as hell.
“Wow.” Callie appeared lost for words while Michelle stared wide-eyed. Finally, even Sunny seemed amused.
“Well, that’s something I’ve never seen before,” Harry stated.
“Yup,” Michelle agreed.
“Anything else, Connor?” Callie asked, still chuckling.
“No, but Harry has some research,” I said and glanced at him.
“Yeah. Christmas Village was formerly known as Bearton and was a former silver-mining town.
Once the mine was played out, the town became deserted and fell into disrepair from around the eighteen-fifties.
Until the nineteen-thirties, it remained that way, before someone bought and converted it into a resort.
“But it was unsuccessful and passed through various owners’ hands. Sadly, they all had varying degrees of success. Finally, it was abandoned again in two thousand and six until Simon Barker purchased it with his wife, Fiona. They’ve owned it for just over a year.”
“Hauntings?” Callie asked, and I almost laughed.
That was Callie. Focused on the ghosts. I couldn’t blame her; I remembered that feeling from my early days.
It had been a fever in my veins that my previous team had slowly killed.
Even though I’d only been with Ghost Seekers Inc.
for a few short weeks, I knew Callie would never go to the lengths my former teammates had for sensationalism.
“There were several deaths in the mines located near the town. I’ve found some men who were hanged for theft, and two prostitutes hung for killing their clients.
Many children and women died in a tuberculosis outbreak, too.
There’s certainly been death there, enough to cause hauntings.
But nothing has been recorded. Probably due to the long breaks between occupations. ”
“Okay. But nobody has pictures or anything?” Callie pressed.
“Nope, just stories of vague ghost sightings but nothing concrete, until these complaints by Fiona and Simon,” Harry replied.
“That in itself is odd, right?” Sunny asked.
“Yeah. Usually, there are legends or tales, but we’ve got zilch.
No ladies in white, no rogue cowboys, absolutely nada.
It’s strange because most haunted places have stories of the spirits that haunt them.
Bearton, or now Christmas Village, lacks anything like that.
I’ve not dug deep yet into the hauntings, but honestly, I can’t find a single story. ” Harry seemed a little put out.
“That’s really strange,” Callie said, exchanging glances with me.
“I thought so,” I agreed. “I’ve investigated many places, and they all had tales to tell. Christmas Village isn’t something I’ve encountered before. A haunted town with no obvious reason behind it.”
“This is going to be interesting,” Callie exclaimed, clapping her hands together as a grin spread across her face.
“Especially with the dancing turkeys,” I quipped in reply.
Sunny
Seriously? I barely suffered Christmas when it was Christmas, but in June?
I could spank Callie’s ass raw. If I’d known we’d be coming here, I’d have begged off.
Worse, the snow was deep here, and I couldn’t even ride a bike.
The team was piled into four winter-ready SUVs as we headed towards Christmas Village.
It was set in a valley dip, high up in the mountains.
I’d been worried about road conditions, but was remarkably surprised. Tall barriers lined the edge of the mountain, thick and sturdy, easily capable of stopping a car from going over the side. The roads had been well gritted and were cleared of ice, which was at odds with the snow surrounding us.
“How come the roads are so clear?” I asked finally.
“That’s what made Simon his money. He created a compound that self-heats roads.
Please don’t ask me how it works, but it was much simpler and cost-effective than what we had before.
Simon sold the patent for the price of a small country.
He’s mega-rich. Put it this way, he would be able to fund Christmas Village for several hundred years without having a single guest,” Connor replied.
“Nice,” I drawled. Self-heating roads would be a Godsend in the winter. “Guess Simon wrangled his design to be used for his project first?”
“Yup. The roads constantly remain clear, no matter what. I’m no scientist, but an element in the compound Simon created heats up when it’s touched by cold.”
The driver who’d picked us up headed over a hill, and there before us lay Christmas Village. And immediately, Callie fell in love.