Page 38 of Dumbstruck
I’m not sure I know enough either, but I’ll do my best. “Good afternoon,” I say, my voice as creaky from nerves as it is from trying to sound old. “We were told you could help us with a little problem we’re having.”
Glen’s eyes jump between us. “Oh? What sort of problem?”
We should have done some research before coming over here. I don’t even know how to get the conversation on the right track. “We have an RV, and the…” Shoot, I don’t even know what problems an RV might have, and the way Glen is staring at me is only making my nerves worse. “The sunroof. It won’t open.”
Jonah snorts a little laugh, covering it with a cough. “And the lights won’t turn on,” he adds. Oh, that’s way better. “Everything else seems to be in working order, so I think maybe there is a connection issue somewhere.”
For a guy who claims to know nothing about electrical, he sounds incredibly confident, and I envy that so much. Yeah, okay, he’s spent years learning to make his roles believable, but it would be a lot easier to see Jonah as a normal guy if he would stop being so perfect.
Glen tucks his pencil inside the planner and closes it, wiping his hands on his tan button-up as he stands. “I can take a look at it.”
“Oh, we didn’t bring it with us,” I say quickly. Maybe too quickly. Jonah tightens his hold on my arm, a nudge to remind me to stay in character. I clear my throat. “We parked over near the high school, next to all those movie trailers.”
Glen scoffs. “There’s your problem right there.”
I resist the urge to grin in triumph. “Oh?”
“The movie folk think the place is haunted.”
I glance at Jonah, who shrugs minutely. “How fascinating. That woman at the diner said something like that.”
Jonah chuckles, his expression a mixture of thoughtful and amused. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts, my love.”
Oh, he needs to stop calling me that if he wants me to stay focused. It’s bad enough that we haven’t stopped touching each other since sitting down at the diner, and the more he calls me his love, the more I might start to believe it.
Tearing my eyes from his, I focus back on Glen. “Martin is right, and I don’t believe in ghosts. But if I did, could a ghost do something to our wiring?”
He snorts. “Of course not.”
“What was that young man saying about a mechanical failure on the set the other day?” Jonah asks me, squishing his face into a look of consternation. “Maybe our problem is related to that.”
“Something about a forklift,” I reply, hoping the incorrect machine will make me sound less suspicious.
“Crane,” Glen grunts. “An actress got stuck in a harness in the air for a while.”
I gasp, covering my mouth in horror. “Oh no! How horrible.”
Glen blows a bit of dust from a shelf next to him, looking wildly uncomfortable. “She was fine.”
“What was the cause?”
“I, uh, can’t figure out how the wire got damaged to the point of breaking in two. I inspected everything myself before they rented the machine, and it was all perfect. Got the movie people pretty spooked.”
“So aghostchewed through the wire?” I ask, unable to hide my skepticism. He’s nervous about the whole situation, and my instincts are telling me to keep pushing. He knows something he’s not saying. “Maybe you missed a—”
“It was perfect before I turned it over to them,” he says again, narrowing his eyes at me. “Did you want to get your lights fixed, or what? I have to make a house call, and my schedule is pretty full, but my daughter just got out of class at the high school and could take a look if you’re in a hurry.”
“Oh.” I tilt my head, trying to imagine a teenage girl fixing an RV. An RV that doesn’t exist. “Oh, we wouldn’t want to bother her. We’re in no rush.”
Glen grunts. “I can tell you some things to look for until I have a chance to get over there.” His gaze turns stormy. “Could be a few days though.”
“Any direction you could give us would be lovely,” I say, though I don’t mean it. Jonah makes conversation look so easy when he does it, and I’m annoyed that I’ve already messed things up with Glen by pushing too hard. Maybe I should have let Jonah handle the investigation on his own—I’ve clearly lost my touch.
“Do you have any tools?” Glen asks, shuffling back to his desk. “If not, you can try the hardware store on Main Street.”
I perk up. “That store looks delightful.”
“Sure. I hear she might not have opened the door yet today, so you might be out of luck if you need something.”
