enjoyment of his fellow researcher.”
“Mr. Angeles, is there really much pleasure in fumbling about in the dark?” She prevented herself from rolling her eyes. NADGEL’s investigations were executed at night, at strange sites, and in absolute darkness. Their sole source of light was the solitary glow of the flashlights and infrared cameras each investigator carried.
“Fumbling about?” He appeared to find the comment amusing before he sobered. “As long as your fears don’t control you, yes, there's an inexplicable enjoyment. Perhaps, the sensation can be likened to an adrenaline rush. There’s the sense of the unknown, the longing to discover what lingers on the fringe of human existence.”�
“Are you ever doubtful about a proposed site?”�
“Always,” he affirmed without hesitation. “There’s more enjoyment if a site is entered with a sense of skepticism. Disbelief affords the opportunity for an investigator to remain removed from the situation.”�
“Do you research the sites you investigate?”�
“Basic background information about the site is noted. I urge my crew not to delve too deeply into legends and myths. The locale is far more important,” he responded candidly, reminding her more of a studious college professor. “I believe, when too aware of the tales surrounding the area, a person’s objectiveness becomes contaminated.”�
“What would you say has caused the phenomenal success of Those Among Us?”�
“There are millions of people that believe in the world existing beyond what we see with the naked eye. My crew and I offer that link to the unknown, and offer explanations. We are that connection to the paranormal, and our fans seek explanations only we can provide.”
Okay, she thought, he was creepy and a little too self-assured.
“Is there anything else that contributes to the international success of your show?”
“Communication and camaraderie is the key to the program's worldwide success,” he provided effortlessly. “My team’s various forms of knowledge are phenomenal in an investigation. I’ve always endeavored to understand what they observe, and how they feel when a certain situation arises.”�
“How would you say the connection is between yourself and the other investigators?”�
“I would hope we’ve a created a strong bond,” he continued easily, as if he had rehearsed each answer provided. Briefly, he spoke of his associates and their various fields of knowledge. Eva detected an underlying respect in his words, noting he appeared more proud of his partners than the television program.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the quick hand sign delivered by her producer. Unprepared for time to elapse so rapidly, she hadn’t realized the close of the hour was nearby. Luke Angeles noticed her momentary distraction and graced her with a tight-lipped smile.
“Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Miss Keyes?”�
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she responded boldly, a series of questions burning in her mind. “As the head of NADGEL, do you truly believe in the paranormal? Do you think you're capable of seeing spirits?”
“Why, Miss Keyes, what an unprofessional question!” The sting in his words was evident. “I had held such high hopes for a young woman of your esteemed caliber.”�
Painfully she blushed, the ringing increasing in her ears to a nearly mind numbing pitch. She didn't hear the marked gasps of disbelief from the floor crew, nor did she heed the frantic hand signals of her producer from the set wings. Luke Angeles was correct, and she’d done the unmentionable, Eva Keyes had overstepped professional boundaries.
“Do you truly believe in what you investigate, Mr. Angeles?” She persisted, even as a slight wave of nausea struck her.
“Do you, Miss Keyes?”�
“I don't believe in phantoms.” The words were an effort to pronounce, each syllable thick in her throat.
“Not in the slightest sense?”�
“No.” The camera panned in her direction. She kept her features tranquil, even as a wave of heat flooded her chilled flesh.
A slight smile touched the thin line of his lips. “I dare you, Miss Keyes, to join my team for an investigation.”
“You dare me?” She asked, flabbergasted, his words sending an additional cold chill over her flushed skin.
“Oh, yes, I dare you,” he reaffirmed smoothly. “I dare you to join me.”�
“I don't believe in the spiritual world,” the brightness of her gaze dropped as her producer signaled a commercial break. The camera didn’t move and her stunned expression was visible to every person viewing the night's broadcast.
“You don't believe in that voice?” His words were a simple whisper and nearly undetectable, even to the sensitive lav mike.
….having trouble, Noah. Mike seems to be on the fritz…�
“What voice?”�
….Eva, there's a problem with your mike. We