Chapter 1

      Deserted alley in the middle of the night when all sensible people were in bed? Check.

      Famously haunted and badly lit location? Check.

      Ground fog swirling thickly enough to create a spooky-as-heck mood and obscure everything? Check.

      Either she was ready to start shooting the next episode of the popular television show America’s Ghosts, or she was about to commit a homicide.

      Of course, if the show’s host didn’t quit trying to tell her how to do her job filming him, there might just be a murder out here tonight.

      Carrie Price stared through the viewfinder of her digital movie camera at her boss and renowned ghost hunter, Gary Hubbard. For tonight’s episode he’d picked Pirate’s Alley in New Orleans. The tourists and foot traffic were long gone, leaving just their footsteps to echo weirdly off the brick walls and their grotesquely elongated shadows to freak her out a little bit.

      Bounded on one side by St. Anthony’s Garden behind a tall, wrought-iron fence and on the other side by darkened shops with tightly closed wooden doors, the narrow alley was only lit by widely spaced cast-iron streetlamps, forming blue haloes of light in drifts of ground fog. The old bricks glistened with moisture and a damp chill hung in the air. She wouldn’t have to apply any filters at all in post-production to achieve the show’s signature gothic vibe.

      Gary walked backward down the alley, narrating a story about the possibly haunted buildings now standing on the site of the Calabozo, a prison that once housed pirate Jean Lafitte and much of his crew. Then Gary spun a tale of a lost pirate treasure rumored to be hidden somewhere in New Orleans, known only to the city’s ghosts. This season he’d branched out from strictly ghost hunting to include a treasure hunt in the show, a blatant publicity stunt to get America’s Ghosts renewed for another season. It had been a good move. His ratings had gone through the roof as he churned out a plot line of convincing ghosts to lead him to a mythical treasure hoard.

      She let Gary back away from her far enough that he became little more than a silhouette within the mysterious fog, his melodic baritone voice a disembodied entity floating out of the mists of time. She should get a freaking Emmy for this camera work!

      Just starting to move forward and rejoin Gary for some close-ups of him looking tense and then excited as tonight’s ghost “appeared” to him, she spied something dark moving out of the shadows behind Gary. Two dark somethings, in fact.

      She jolted but kept the camera rolling. Gary hadn’t told her he’d hired anyone to stage an apparition appearance. But these actors looked terrific. Clothed in black from head to foot, they’d even covered their faces with some kind of black cloth, which gave them an otherworldly eeriness as they crept up behind Gary.

      He turned just as the pair of “ghosts” reached him. Uncharacteristically, Gary threw up his hands and stumbled as if he was frightened of these apparitions. Oh, God. This was going to make for a great episode. She would cut to commercial just after he threw his hands up and cried out in surprise. All of America would be on the edge of its La-Z-Boys waiting to see what happened after three minutes of sponsored ads.

      The ghosts grabbed Gary and commenced dragging him down the alley away from her. He struggled, but the apparitions easily overpowered him. What was he doing? He never interacted physically with ghosts. Sure, he’d been going for over-the-top supernatural elements this season, but was he seriously staging a ghost abduction? Why hadn’t he said something?

      Whatever. It was his show. She was just the camerawoman.

      Dammit, they were moving away from her too fast! Gary’s silver hair was part of the white fog now. She was live recording audio, or else she would have shouted at them to slow down or maybe even to reset and redo the take. She would keep the footage of that first jolt of surprise from Gary, though. It had looked totally authentic even though he wasn’t the world’s greatest actor. She often had to coach him through multiple takes to get a decent look of surprise out of him.

      She moved forward more quickly, hurrying between the soaring walls of St. Louis Cathedral on her left, and on her right, the Cabildo, once the seat of government in Louisiana and now a museum. Gary and the two ghosts were only vague shapes in the fog ahead of her. She was losing