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"Let me get this straight. You want to take a bunch of whackos into Petrie Folly and 'research' the psychic phenomena?" Chris blurted in disbelief.
"Yes, the paper is so interested in the story that they're offering twenty thousand dollars a piece to the 'talents'. Vin Tanner will get an extra ten thousand, because he's such a well documented telekinetic. They all have proven abilities, even in the scientific community," Mary enthused.
"How many people are we talking about here?" Chris demanded sharply.
"Seventeen including the two of us," Mary smiled widely. "They're supposed to meet me at the Arms Hotel in . . . two hours." Mary Travis checked her watch.
"Mary, from now on you clear everything with me first. Do you understand me?" Larabee sighed.
"Of course Chris; I just got so excited I forgot," Mary smiled mischievously.
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I've never seen such a bunch of loonies in my life. Chris studied the table as he moved across the room.
"Mary, where did you get these people? They're the stereotype for paranormal twits," Chris snorted.
"That is the scientific team, Chris. The paranormals are at the other table," Mary laughed.
"At least they look almost normal," Chris huffed.
"Hey Stud, so you decided to join us," Buck's cheerful voice carried across the room.
"I should have known. Mary. you drug Buck into this stupidity?" Chris growled into the woman's ear.
"He volunteered," Mary gave a meaningless smile and joined the distinguished looking man that rose to greet them.
"Chris, may I introduce Professor Sydney Crooks? He's in charge of the scientific team. Professor Crooks, may I introduce Chris Larabee," Mary introduced the two men.
"What is your talent?" The professor snorted in distaste.
"Oh, Chris isn't a talent. Psychically, he's dead as a doornail," Mary laughed. "Chris owns Petrie's Folly."
"Oh, forgive me. I thought you were another of those charlatans," the professor sniffed disdainfully. "Really Ms. Travis, how do you expect me to perform delicate studies with those . . . nuts in the way."
"The same way I'm putting up with a manner less little twit for the weekend," Chris growled protectively. Buck had covered it well, but Chris had seen that old flash of pain in the eyes of his childhood friend.
"I beg your pardon?" Sydney Crooks blurted.
"Not mine but my . . . guests," Chris scowled. "I'm certain that even at this late date Mary could find a replacement for you. It's not as though you are an irreplaceable talent now is it?" Chris smirked. "I mean there are lots of professors out there. I'm certain another college would appreciate the funding."
"You sir, are a boor," Crooks huffed.
"And you are a conceited bully," Chris responded.
The talents and the scientists alike watched the heated discussion.
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"May I inquire as to who the . . . gentleman with Ms. Travis might be?" Ezra Standish's southern drawl was thick.
"That's Chris Larabee; he owns the Folly," Buck answered.
"I understood there would be six enhanced guests this weekend," Ezra mused.
"There are six," Mary responded as she walked over. "Elvin Tanner will be joining before we leave at five."
"What's his gift?" JD Dunne asked excitedly.
"He's a telekinetic," Mary answered distractedly, before moving to soothe the feathers of the professor.
"Looks like ole Chris is in top form," Buck chuckled.
"What do you mean?" Josiah asked.
"Ruffling feathers, it's his talent," Buck grinned.
"Buck Wilmington, I can do a little of everything," Buck introduced himself.
"JD Dunne, I'm a 'touch know'," the dark haired 'kid' spoke up.
"Touch know? I'm not familiar with that term," Josiah rumbled.
"I can get pictures, conversations or feelings from touching things." JD shrugged.
"Josiah Sanchez, I'm a spirit writer," Josiah responded.
"Spirit writer? Ghosts use you to write messages?" JD asked in awe.
"They have been known too," Josiah smiled kindly.
"Nathan Jackson. I have a healing touch along with a bit of precognition," the tall black man spoke.
"Ezra Standish," Ezra started to introduce himself.
"I know who you are. You're a conman," Nathan huffed in disgust.
"On occasion, Dr. Jackson. It was an accident you know. The overdose was not deliberate," Ezra sighed.
"What are you talking about?" Nathan snapped.
"Your mother," Ezra answered calmly. "She did not intend to kill herself."
"I know what happened with my mother, Standish," Nathan said emotionlessly.
"Then you realize you were not to blame," Ezra answered gently.
"I wrote the prescription," Nathan muttered.
"Which the pharmacist filled improperly," Standish said.
"What?" Nathan straightened.
"The pharmacist filled the prescription with the correct medication. Unfortunately the capsules dosage was triple that of your orders," Ezra revealed.
"Why didn't this come out when momma died?" Nathan demanded.
"Due to your mother's health issues, the police most likely never looked at it as anything except a suicide," Josiah said thoughtfully.
"How'd you know about momma?" Nathan glared at Ezra.
When the news of your mother's death reached the pharmacist, he realized what he had done and ended his life as a result," Ezra reported. "Mr. Eckert came to . . . visit today during my morning repast." Ezra visibly cringed and developed a greenish tinge. He wished for me to tender to you his apologies."
"Cool," JD breathed.
"Not so cool, Mr. Dunne. Mr. Eckert ended his life with a shotgun blast under his chin," Ezra shuddered. "It was not conducive to good cuisine."
"And they think we're the loonies," Buck sniggered, looking at the table next to them.
"An interesting cross-section of individuals indeed," Josiah smiled faintly.
"Most are mediocre at the best, the remainder are sycophants. Each having been surreptitiously selected so as not to diminish Professor Crooks' shining light. With the exception of the vivacious blond. Professor Crooks, I would presume will endeavor to captivate the young miss," Ezra mused.
"Very observant son," Josiah agreed.
"Mr. Sanchez, I am not your son. Please refrain from addressing me as such," Ezra's voice was quiet.
"She's very pretty," JD said wistfully.
"The little gal with all the hair?" Buck asked. "Look's like she's interested in you too, Kid."
"You think so?" JD breathed, ducking his head.
"Yeah," Buck winked at the girl bringing a flush to her face.
"She probably thinks I'm just a kid," JD sighed.
"I promise you JD, she isn't thinking of you as a little boy," Buck chuckled. "That girl's got a hell of an imagination," Buck flushed and blotted his forehead with his napkin.
"What?" JD looked bewildered.
"Kid you're in the gravy. Just go over there and tell her whether or not you have dimples on your butt," Buck urged. "And her name is Casey Wells."
"Are you out of your mind?" JD hissed.
"Some of the time," Buck grinned widely and waggled his eyebrows.
JD stared at Buck a few moments before he stood up and shyly approached the young woman.
"Wonder how long before he realizes?" Nathan chuckled, picking up a flash of a possible future for the pair.
"Oh she's smart enough to let him chase her, until she catches him," Buck smirked.
Amused looks were exchanged when the professor was politely ignored by the young couple every time he tried to break up the animated conversation. It was more than obvious that Casey had no interest in the professor in any way except as a teacher.
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Mary Travis introduced everyone and brought the meeting to order. The Professor seized control of the meeting almost immediately and proceeded to outline everyone's responsibilities. The 'talent's' duties consisted primarily of staying out of the 'scientists' way. A glare from Chris halted any mention of duties assigned to him. Only Mary was treated as having even a modicum of intelligence. Then he went on for over an hour and a half giving a history of Petrie's folly and the intent of the forth coming investigation in a monotone that had Buck asleep in moments.
Buck you're good but I know better. Chris grinned inwardly watching his friend's head nod.
"Professor Crooks, you haven't touched on the history of the ground itself," Josiah reminded mildly.
"It has no bearing on our investigation, Mr. . . . Standish," Crooks sputtered at the interruption.
"Sir, I am Ezra P. Standish Esq. the sixth, Dr. Sanchez is the gentleman you are currently addressing, Mister Cr . . . ank," Ezra responded.
"Forgive me," Crooks sneered and started in on his spiel only to be interrupted by a loud snore.
Hidden grins and sniggers erupted as Buck's snores continually drowned out the stuffy professor.
"Would someone wake that idiot!" Crook snarled.
"Why? You've already covered everything," Chris snorted. "Now you're just boring us with your preening and self admiration.