Ghost Town Read Online Free PDF Page A

conference.” He nodded toward Trevor. “From what I overheard earlier, I take it that you’re a writer. Might I have heard of anything you’ve done?”
    On the surface, Carrington’s question seemed innocent enough, but Amber detected a snide undercurrent, as if he expected to have never heard of Trevor. Carrington’s attitude irritated her, and she found herself leaping to Trevor’s defense.
    â€œHe’s Trevor Ward. His books are really great, and today he’s going to preview his latest one at the conference.”
    Trevor gave her a thank-you smile, but Carrington’s reaction took her by surprise.
    â€œTrevor Ward! Of course! We’ve met before, haven’t we? A fewyears back, right here at Esotericon, if I remember right. You were dating that charming woman who runs the Forgotten Lore bookstore, Jenn . . . Rinaldi, I believe. Are you two still together?”
    â€œAfraid not,” Trevor said.
    â€œPity. But then, the course of true love has never run smooth, has it? My three ex-wives can testify to that!” He laughed. “Well, Trevor, how about you introduce me to your friends?”
    But before Trevor could say anything, they heard the front door bang open, and a woman’s voice called out, “Arthur? Are you up yet?”
    An African-American woman rushed into the dining room. She was in her late thirties, her red-dyed hair so short it was almost a buzz cut. She wore horn-rimmed glasses—what Amber thought of as hipster glasses—and a small diamond nose stud. She was tall and thin and wore an open jeans jacket over a T-shirt with the words “Ghost Town” on the front.
    She fixed Carrington with a disapproving look. “Did you leave your cell turned off again? I’ve been trying to call you for the last fifteen minutes!”
    Carrington gave her a thin smile. “This is Erin Gilman, a talented documentarian and, as you can see, a somewhat impatient woman. Erin, this is Trevor Ward, a fellow scribe, and his two friends . . . ?”
    Amber and Drew said their names, but Erin didn’t acknowledge them. She kept her attention focused on Carrington.
    â€œArthur, we need to go. There’s been a—” She glanced at Amber and the others. “Something’s come up that’s altered our shooting schedule, and we need to, uh, get moving so we don’t lose the morning light.”
    â€œThere’s no need to play things so close to the vest, my dear. It’s not as if we’re doing an exposé revealing sensitive government secrets, now, is it? We’re making a simple little film about a town that trades on its reputation for paranormal occurrences in order toattract tourists. Surely, whatever has come up can wait until after I’ve finished my breakfast.”
    And then, as if he were a child determined to make a point to his mother, he took a forkful of scrambled eggs, put them into his mouth, and began chewing.
    Erin glared at Carrington, and from the way things had gone between them so far, Amber had the impression that she did that a lot. “There was a murder here in town last night. A weird one.”
    Carrington swallowed his eggs and put his fork down. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then rose from the table.
    â€œMy apologies for rushing off like this, but it’s unprofessional to keep one’s director waiting.” Carrington gave them a parting smile before he turned and started to follow Erin out of the dining room.
    A cold emptiness opened in the pit of Amber’s stomach.
    â€œWhere?” she asked. And although she didn’t say the word very loudly, something about her tone made both Carrington and Erin pause.
    Carrington gave Erin a look, and then, almost grudgingly, she said, “The Forgotten Lore bookstore.”
    She and Arthur hurried off, and the front door slammed.
    â€œJenn,” Trevor said in a stunned voice.
    Drew gave Amber