Ghost of a Chance (Banshee Creek Book 2) Read Free Page B

the fake blood and dismembered limbs. When the ruckus had died down, the Town Council president had kindly asked Caine to leave the podium.  
    It had been a complete disaster.
    At least Caine had gotten the last slide right. It was currently posted on the screen and it detailed the attendance result from last year's event: The Cole Hunt Memorial Halloween Costume Party. Gabe still didn't know exactly how Cole's paranormie friends had managed to convince him to fund a party in his best friend's memory. His recollection of the night after Cole's funeral was fuzzy. All he could remember of the wake were sad songs, Caine's drunken rants, and copious amounts of Woodford's Reserve. But the next morning, he'd woken up to find his email inbox jammed with a proposed party budget, a rental agreement, and a letter from the Guinness World Records Association agreeing to tabulate the attendees.
    The crazy, over-the-top feast had been an enormous success, and the final slide of the presentation laid out the results. The World's Largest Halloween Party had attracted thousands of attendees, massive social media coverage, and huge profits for the local retailers. That was what their proposal to the Town Council was based on, and it was a great pitch.
    The irony wasn't lost on him. For years he'd been the rational foil to Cole's madcap ideas, the math and numbers guy who doubted everything and came up with reasonable rebuttals for each of Cole's pseudoscientific theories, the one who quoted Carl Sagan and James Randi.
    The sensible one.  
    The skeptic.
    And, yet, here he was, using all of his considerable resources to make his dead friend's dream come true. He was going to turn Banshee Creek into the country's foremost paranormal destination.
    Well, at least he stood to make a lot of money out of it. The Haunted Orchard idea was inspired, even if he did say so himself. The income projections were quite impressive. And that was just the start. His research team had compiled a long list of future projects, all of them with significant income potential, for his hometown. Banshee Creek was a potential gold mine.  
    But only if he could get the stupid Ghost Tours approved. He had a long list of projects lined up, but the Ghost Tours were the thin edge of the wedge. If he didn't get the tours approved, his plan was toast.  
    If only Caine hadn't messed it up. Gabe should have done the presentation himself. True, the town may have resented being bossed around by someone who used to deliver pizza, but that was better than being grossed out by a lunatic biker.  
    But all was not lost. The Historical Preservation Committee, composed of a handful of desiccated old mummies, was up next. Caine had done badly, but the Committee would do even worse. Their slides certainly didn't inspire confidence. They were bland and colorless and featured cartoon frogs in colonial-era clothes as decoration.
    Pathetic.  
    PRoVE should be able to win this vote in spite of Caine's dismal performance. Gabe wouldn't contemplate a different result. He had invested a lot of money in the Haunted Orchard Cidery, and its marketing plan depended on his hometown's Wes Craven-meets-Scarlet O'Hara mystique. He needed this plan approved and pronto.  
    He leaned forward to listen to the Committee's presentation. Mr. O'Reilly, the history teacher, approached the podium, and Gabe instantly relaxed. Mr. O'Reilly could be counted on for an hour-long digression into the basket weaving styles associated with colonial Williamsburg. The Town Council, bored to death, would become ghosts themselves.  
    He examined the audience while his old history teacher fiddled with the projector. Many of the attendees were skimming the PRoVE handouts. A couple of kids were eating ghost-shaped cookies, and a group of teenagers giggled as they passed around the "Suck it Salem" bumper stickers.
    He allowed himself a satisfied smile. This vote was as good as won.
    He pulled out his smart phone and started to