Chapter Four: Missing Property

 

Chapter Four: Missing Property

            Dr. Lisa Stevens always thought the atmosphere in New York City was the same every season – cold, damp, and crowded. She hadn’t been anywhere near the city in nearly a decade. Eight years ago, she graduated from Columbia University. Since then, she settled down in Tampa, Florida where many changes happened in her life, from marrying a brilliant, wonderful man named Adam and starting her own paranormal business. So why was she in the freezing, wet, and depressing atmosphere of New York and not in the warm, dry, and happy climate of Tampa?

            The answer was in the street corner she stood on, which happened to have been the location of the Ghostbusters’ firehouse headquarters. Word spread about the return of the superstars of the supernatural since the near-catastrophic incident two years ago, in which a powerful, long-dead sorceress named Maleficent almost started Armageddon in Manhattan. Thankfully, the Ghostbusters were there to avert the situation and save the world, much as they had done twice before. Only that time they had help from a young woman named Genevieve Marie who had sacrificed herself in the end.

            Of course, Lisa wasn’t just another crazy fan who dreamt of owning Natalie Venkman’s jumpsuit and selling it on eBay for $2,000. Unlike most people who came to the firehouse for help, press, or lame attempts of getting noticed, Lisa actually had history with the Ghostbusters (three of them, at least).

            Before she left New York City, she attended Columbia U. with the three parapsychologists who started the business: Natalie Venkman, J.G. Stantz, and Sean Spengler. Much of their college years was filled with trips to haunted spots, investigating history and collecting data on noises, sights, and other paranormal senses; the only exception being the Le Ficent Castle in Paris, France (Lisa wasn’t there for that one).

            Unfortunately, Lisa’s visit came with bad news.

            She arrived at the Ghostbusters’ firehouse HQ that evening via taxicab. It was the first time she saw the firehouse up close. The building was just as tall as the others surrounding it. Just from glancing over it, she felt like she was at home. For a brief time, she was caught in a trance, gazing on every inch of the firehouse exterior.

            And then she heard moaning from a nearby bench.

            Lying there was a sleepy young redhead in a grey sweater, black leggings, and black boots. She squirmed uncomfortably along the hard steel bench, which was barely long enough to suit her medium-sized frame.

            “Excuse me,” Lisa addressed the young woman, snapping her awake. “Are you alright, honey?”

            The redhead sat up, blinking a few times to clear her groggy vision and see the beautiful blonde in the black hourglass midi dress and amazing cheekbones. “Yeah, I’m cool,” she blearily confirmed.

            “Have you been lying there all day?”

            The redhead frowned. “All day? But it’s only been a few…” She suddenly looked around, seemingly startled by the fact that it was nighttime. “Oh, shoot! I overslept!” In her frenzy, she reached beneath the bench to retrieve a navy-blue backpack and then she rushed inside the firehouse HQ.

            Lisa calmly followed her in, lugging her own bags (she didn’t plan on staying in a hotel while on her visit). The inside of the firehouse felt just as spacious to her as the outside. The first floor mainly housed the garage (where in the famed Ectomobile was parked), the secretary desk, and an office at the rear – presumably for one of the three founders.

            At the secretary desk was another redhead – one that was a bit older than the bench girl. On the desk itself was a name plate that read “Christina Melnitz,” but the woman sitting there was not Christina Melnitz. Lisa recognized her as Egica Spengler, half-sister of Sean and biological sister of Callie.

            Of course, the bench girl wasn’t well-acquainted with Egica to know those details. She merely assumed Egica was Melnitz upfront and urgently requested, “Can I please see the Ghostbusters?!”

            Egica quietly acknowledged Lisa with a friendly wave while addressing the frantic young woman. “They’re busy right now,” she told her. “They’re about to leave for a night at Hoots. A party is being thrown in their honor.”

            “Hopefully, they can make some time for me,” Lisa said.

            “Hey, girl!” Egica welcomed, leaving the desk and enveloping Lisa in a big hug. “Long time, no see! How’ve you been?”

            “Working on my tan in Florida – as you can see, I’ve got a long way to go,” Lisa jested, indicating her fair skin tone. “Are the kids really busy right now? I can just sit and wait while they…”

            “Nah, go right up ahead,” Egica permitted. “They’ll be ecstatic to see you.”

            “Seriously?!” the bench girl griped.

            Before her compliant could be addressed by either Egica or Lisa, another group of visitors entered the firehouse and approached the desk – an African-American family that consisted of a twentysomething husband and wife and their three-year-old daughter, who clung to the father’s shoulder as he held her up.

            “Mr. and Mrs. Williamson,” Egica addressed them. “What brings you folks here?”

            Mr. Williamson, a clean-shaven individual, remarked, “We just wanted to thank you all for what you did at our penthouse. If it weren’t for you, that ice ghost would’ve kept half of the building frozen.”

            “And us with it,” added Mrs. Williamson, a radiant woman with long flowing black hair that appeared dark brown under certain lighting.

            “Aw, it was our pleasure,” Egica acknowledged.

            Mr. Williamson’s daughter cupped her tiny hands around her father’s ear, whispering a reminder to him. “Oh! I almost forgot. Bianca wanted to give you something, Professor Spengler.”

            Egica was deeply touched. “For me? What’d you want to give me, sweetheart?” She saw Bianca hold her arms out to Egica for a hug. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest! Thank you, honey!” She happily accepted the hug, once Mr. Williamson set Bianca down on her feet. Egica had to crouch to be at her level, taking the little girl in her arms, a few tears managing to stream down from her hazel-colored eyes.

            The grateful embrace lasted for a moment before Bianca returned to her father.

            “How…touching,” a dark voice spoke from behind, spooking them all. They turned to see Claude Frollo standing beside the Ectomobile, bringing a sense of foreboding to the otherwise warm, friendly ambiance. Neither the Williamsons nor Egica, Lisa, and the bench girl heard him come in.

            Recognizing Frollo and acknowledging the powerful influence he carried, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson took their cue to leave. “Erm, thanks again,” Mr. Williamson told Egica, without delay. “We’ll see you around.”

            As they passed the stoic Frollo, Bianca took one glimpse at him and said, “Daddy, that man looks like Woody.”

            Egica, Lisa, and the bench girl had to stifle their collective giggles from Bianca’s observant remark, which stemmed from the angle and shape of Frollo’s tricorn hat that did bear a resemblance to the Toy Story character.

            Obviously, Frollo didn’t find it so amusing.

            The Williamsons departed respectfully (and at a quicker pace, following Bianca’s comment), leaving Frollo to announce the purpose of his visit: “I am here to speak with Dr. Natalie Venkman.”

            “O.K.,” Egica cumbersomely reacted. “What about?”

            “The matter of something that was stolen from the cathedral,” Frollo stated.

            Rapid footsteps resounded from the nearby staircase as J.G. descended from them, adorned in a spiffy white suit with a black, open-collared dress shirt. “Was that the Williamsons I heard just now?” he asked, shortly before he spotted Stevens and beamed, “Lisa! I didn’t know you were in town!”

            “I am here to see Dr. Natalie Venkman!” Frollo again announced, this time with more insistence to cut J.G. and Lisa’s reunion short.

            “What for?” J.G. asked.

            “He says something was stolen from the cathedral,” Egica relayed.

            “Oh,” J.G. nonchalantly uttered. “Well, Your Honor…” He briefly cleared his throat, nervously fidgeting in his address. “Dr. Venkman is currently, uh, occupied at the moment. Perhaps I could—”

            “I have no time for such frivolities, boy! Out of my way!”

            Frollo stormed past J.G., moving upstairs to the second floor of the firehouse, which was reserved for areas like the sleeping quarters. When he got there, he was met with quite the enchanting sight: Natalie Venkman and Jacqueline Zeddemore standing in in their dresses for their evening out with J.G. Both women sparkled and glittered

            Natalie mockingly greeted him, “Claude, what a surprise! We didn’t expect you to come ‘Frollocking’ up here.”

            If it were possible for Frollo’s ghostly pale complexion to turn red, it would have in that very moment. Fighting through his anger, Frollo confronted Natalie, “I’m here to discuss a matter of great importance: I discovered some property missing from the cathedral, shortly after you and your associates departed. I have reason to believe it was stolen.”

            “You think we stole it?!” an offended Jacqueline gathered.

            “I’m sure we can settle this in a calm manner, if you would just describe the ‘stolen’ property to us,” Natalie suggested.

            Frollo remained tight-lipped. “You already know what it is.”

            “Well, that’s just silly,” Venkman argued. “How am I supposed to know what it is, when I don’t have a clue what it looks like.” She then turned to Jacqueline and asked, “Do you know what it looks like?”

            Jacqueline shook her head. “Not a clue.”

            “Well, there you go, Claude. Neither of us know what you’re talking about, unless you’re willing to describe it to us.”

            Enraged, Frollo scowled at the two women. “You’ve made a grave mistake this day, Ghostbusters. I will return with the constables and a search warrant. Mark my words!”

            “Looking forward to it, Claude,” Natalie ridiculed with a spiteful wave of goodbye.

            On that, Frollo thundered back downstairs, brisking past the perplexed J.G., Egica, Meagan, and Lisa, who watched him leave the firehouse in quite a huff. Shortly afterwards, Lisa sniffed and said, “I know this is a weird time to bring it up, but…does something smell funky to you guys? I’ve been smelling it from the second I walked in.”

            J.G. snickered. “Around here, it could be anything.”

            A brief moment later, Natalie and Jacqueline emerged from upstairs, the scent of their perfume canceling out whatever foul smell Lisa had hinted before. “What was all that business with Judge Frollo about?” J.G. queried. “He mentioned something about stolen property?”

            “Oh, forget him,” Natalie passively dismissed before she noticed Lisa and happily squealed, “My sistah! You lookin’ fine!” The two old friends embraced each other, hopping up and down.

            “And you smellin’ fine,” Lisa returned. “Better than whatever I was whiffing at a second ago.”

            Natalie’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, I’m whiffin’ it, too. What is that?” She followed her nose to where the scent was the strongest and highly noticeable: the bench girl’s backpack. Smelling it up close nearly knocked Venkman unconscious. “Girl, what in God’s green earth do you have in there?!”

            “I’m so glad you asked, Dr. Venkman,” the bench girl said. “My name is Meagan Tully. I’m 26, I live in Queens, and do I have a story to tell you!” She unzipped her backpack and reached inside, feeling through items that she deemed important to bring to the Ghostbusters’ firehouse, from her cellphone to some mango-flavored lipstick. Finally, she felt the object of her desire, as her hand came upon a rough object. She pulled it out, as well as the bizarre odor that it carried.

            Everyone was revolted to see it was a cardboard pizza box that still had bits of food and grease stains along the inside with a crudely drawn image of a green, one-eyed monster. “You’ll have to excuse my art skills – I drew this right after I saw the thing,” Meagan said.

            “The lack of artistry I can excuse, but that smell is unforgivable!” Natalie griped, holding her nose.

            J.G. analyzed Meagan’s drawing (from a distance). “Where did you see the monster?”

            “In my closet,” Meagan answered.

            Jacqueline did a double take. “Come again?”

            “In my closet,” Meagan repeated. “It’s been living in there for the last four days.”

            Her claim sounded as juvenile as her drawing to Venkman and her associates. “Lemme get this straight – you’re 26 years old and you have a monster living in your closet?” By her judgmental tone, it was obvious that she didn’t believe Meagan’s story.

            “Look, I know it sounds silly, but I swear I’m telling the—AHHH!!!!”

            Meagan was stricken with alarm just as she spotted a hunchbacked, disfigured man emerged from the Ghostbusters’ basement. “I…I t-thought I heard M-Master Frollo’s voice,” he stammered. “I-Is he still here?”

            Natalie saw how mortified he was. “He’s gone, Quasi. It’s safe to come up.”

            “Wait…so the ‘stolen property’ Frollo was going on about was Quasimodo?” Jacqueline realized in disgust. “Man! What a jerk!”

            “P-Please don’t speak against him,” Quasimodo beseeched. “My master may be gone, but he hears everything. He has power unimaginable and will do everything to return me to the bell tower.”

            “Let him try,” Natalie challenged. “In fact, I’m so certain Frollo’s threats are actually empty, I’m gonna invite Quasi to the party at Hoots with us.”

            “What?!” J.G., Jacqueline, and even Quasimodo yelped.

            “I-I-I’m not so s-s-sure about that,” the hunchback pleaded.

            “Well, I am,” Venkman insisted, pulling Quasimodo’s arm and guiding him into the backseat of the Ectomobile. She then looked back towards Lisa and asked, “You comin’, too? It’ll be like old times. We can catch each other up along the way.”

            Lisa had yet to tell them the unfortunate reason for her visit, but they were in too much of a good mood for her to spoil the fun. So, she shelved the bad news for later and accepted Venkman’s invitation. “Ah, what the heck,” she shrugged while climbing into the backseat with Natalie and Quasimodo. A reluctant J.G. and Jacqueline followed – the former taking position behind the wheel to drive the Ectomobile out of the firehouse garage and in the direction of Times Square.

            Egica had decided in advance to stay at the firehouse. She was the only working Ghostbuster there in the absence of Christina Melnitz, who was given the rest of the week off. Of course, there was still the matter of the lingering Meagan Tully, who stood forlornly staring out towards the empty garage, still holding her funky-smelling pizza box with the monster drawing on it.

            Taking pity on the poor girl, Egica asked her, “You really do have a monster in your closet, don’t you?”

            Meagan spun around, looking on Egica with hopeful eyes. “Y-Yes! I really do!”

            Egica sighed. “Alright. I’ll call a taxi, and we can head over to your place to investigate. Just do me one thing before we go?”

            “Anything,” Meagan graciously agreed.