Moody & The Ghost - Books 1-4 (Moody Mysteries)

by Kim Hornsby

  “On paper only. Before I died, we hadn’t seen each other in a decade, but fate saw fit to send her to me in the afterlife.” Caspian gestured to the door on the other side of the grand foyer. “Shall we take our tour?”

  I decided to drop any more questions I had about Jacqueline. I wanted to see as much as I could quickly, in case my sight disappeared along with Caspian. We would begin our tour of a house I would commit to memory, my eyes feasting on the colors and configurations of everything I’d felt but hadn’t seen yet. As we walked from room to room, Caspian wanted me to know his life, his associations, the details of the day he died, probably to give me information so I could honor my side of our deal. We talked like friends, even laughed at one point over his description of wanting to become a sea captain as a boy so he could say words like “dead ahead,” and “hoist the mainsail.”

  The tour ended in the bloody wall room where I asked him what happened in here.

  “A story for another time,” he’d said wistfully.

  I considered trying to keep the conversation going, but he left the room and waited for me outside the door. We talked about his ship, the Isabella, on our way back to my bedroom when suddenly, he looked concerned.

  “I feel myself leaving,” he said from my bedroom doorway. “Remember our deal.”

  Apparently, he couldn’t materialize any time he wanted or stay as long as he wanted. Before he faded away, he hurriedly said that we’d continue our conversation later. “Of that, I’m sure,” he said.

  I didn’t know the rules of his ghostmanship and wasn’t even sure he knew, but this time he’d left not of his own accord.

  I entered my bedroom blindly, cursing my reliance on a fleeting companion. I’d been lucky to have this much, I knew that, but still.

  **

  I shuffled into the kitchen before Eve and Carlos woke. I hadn’t heard them moving around yet. It was before seven and too early for them. Me too, considering last night. My eyes were heavy, my mouth dry and I felt like I’d been at an all-nighter, which I kind of had, but without the alcohol. Sleep hadn’t come for me after Caspian left. I hadn’t tried.

  In some regards, the visit from Caspian felt like a dream, but because I hadn’t slept, I was able to realize my ghostly visit wasn’t a dream. That, and the ring I now wore on my right index finger. I knew what it looked like even though this morning I couldn’t see it. Last night I’d studied it though. Caspian had suggested we trade something as a token of good faith for our deal. He’d offered to give me one of the rings he wore on his right hand, a gold emblem of a lion on a shield. I gave him a bracelet with a ghost charm my mother had given me years before. At the time, I doubted his ring would remain when he left me, but it did. I could feel the heaviness of the gold on my right hand as I thought about Captain Cortez.

  He was open but guarded in some regards and I got the hint of a quirky sense of humor that matched my own. I’d let him do most of the talking. Our conversation wasn’t like a dinner party with friends, or the beginning days of a romance where you divulge your life story and find commonalities.

  It was a business arrangement, but still, a frickin’ miracle to be hanging out with a ghost.

  I made coffee in the cold kitchen, having forgotten to set the coffee maker last night in our excitement about trying to contact the ghost on the third floor. Calling him “the ghost”, now felt too unfamiliar after hours of feeling like I’d been interviewing a subject for a college paper on shipping in the 1800’s. “How big was your ship?” I’d asked. “How many crew?” When I’d asked if he was a smuggler, he’d looked solemn and shook his head.

  I didn’t know if he wasn’t a smuggler or he wasn’t talking, but when I asked again to clarify, he continued to shake his head as if to say that subject was out of bounds and then continued to detail the men who might have been out to get him.

  “Did you ask Belinda to solve your murder?” I’d asked him.

  He’d taken a long time to collect his thoughts before he answered, and I was glad to have sight because I saw deceit in his eyes when he answered. “Belinda was limited in her ability to help me,” he said. Although our conversation flowed easily, Caspian Cortez was not about to give up all his information to help me find his body. I wondered what he was hiding.

  I leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the Kona Gold coffee to drip, my arms crossed. The kitchen felt colder than usual, and I wondered if Jacqueline Cortez was around. I now knew she’d moved my coffee mug. It hadn’t been Harry, unfortunately. At least Caspian said she would have done something like that to be mean.

  “I seem to be the only ghost who can’t shake free of you,” he’d said. “The kitchen antics were not light-hearted fun,” he’d gone on to say. “Moving your cup would have been to see you squirm.” I’d been advised to stay away from Jacqueline. “She has a mean streak,” Caspian said.

  But how does one stay away from a ghost? They come into your life without an invitation.

  Was Jacqueline here now, plotting her next joke? Maybe this time with knives.

  I continued to think about the strangeness of last night until I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Not the lightness of Eve but someone heavier. Not as heavy as Caspian.

  I blinked, hoping to lighten my vision. Still blackness. The footsteps were closer, now in the hall. I turned to face my ghost. “Who’s there?” I said.

  “Great Googly Mooglies,” Carlos said. “You’re up early.”

  “Still up,” I said, bragging that I’d had the worst sleep of anyone, something the three of us often did. I remembered I had a bone to pick with Carlos and met him head on, conversationally. “I realize you were listening to me last night.”

  In the last twelve hours, so much had happened that was beyond amazing that being spied on seemed minor. Still, I had to address it.

  “How did you know?”

  “Just because I’m blind, you don’t have the right to try to put one over on me, do you understand?”

  He stopped nearby, and I could smell his Eau Sauvage. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “It’s an invasion of privacy, like if I bugged your cell phone,” I said.

  He moved in beside me and poured a cup of coffee. “Let’s sit at the table, I’ll explain.”

  “I hope you poured that for me. Add just a tiny bit of cream,” I said and found my way to the table.

  I heard Carlos texting and realized he was summoning Eve to join him. Coward. They’d have been in this together. He poured a second cup and walked slowly to the table. “We were worried you might fall down the stairs. You don’t call Eve for help when we ask you to. You just navigate your way back to your room.”

  Two days ago, I would have been furious at them. Little did Carlos know, they were going to get off easy today because I had something bigger than being spied on in my bag of tricks. I had a ghost who appeared before me as if he was living. I had vision when he was around and had yet to tell my awesome twosome the particulars of all this amazing news.

  But first, I’d make them sweat it out. Fall over themselves apologizing and vow never to do this again. I had to maintain my position as their boss, even if I was their blind boss.

  Eve’s footsteps padded down the hall hurriedly and she entered the kitchen. “Don’t be angry, Bryn. It was my idea. I just wanted Carlos…”

  “Sit down, both of you.” I clutched the hot mug in my hands and waited for them.

  Both Carlos and Eve were used to being told to be quiet and were really good at waiting to speak because on investigations, their silence was imperative. When I realized they were sitting at the table, waiting, I spoke my mind. “Bugging me or watching me without my knowledge, is not acceptable. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Their voices were whispers.

  “I won’t tolerate it again.” I sounded so serious, when in truth I was bursting to tell them my big news. “This is your warning to not interfere again with either my private investigations or my personal s
pace. When I tell you to leave me, it’s just as if I was still a sighted person. You need to leave me and respect my wishes. Is that clear?”

  “It is,” Eve said.

  I continued. “You are both my friends and my employees, and I know that’s hard sometimes, but when we’re on an investigation, like last night, you are only my employees and under an obligation to do as I say. Unless I ask you to do something you feel is wrong.” I now understood where they were coming from. “In a case like that, you can voice your opinion but under no circumstances can you ever again bug me or spy on me, even if you feel it’s in my best interest.”

  I took a sip of my coffee.

  “Now, tell me what in the world you were thinking last night to listen in on my investigation.”

  “Bryn,” Eve said. “It was my idea. I asked Carlos to put a bug under the table because I worried you’d get up, not call me to help you, and fall down the stairs. I just worry that you’re trying to do too much too fast,” she said. I heard tears in her voice. “And it turned out I was right.” Her voice hitched. “You didn’t call me, and I slept through the night only realizing that just now.” She turned to Carlos. “You were supposed to phone me if she started downstairs!” Her voice had risen.

  “I didn’t even know she’d left the third floor,” Carlos said, “until I heard her bedroom door close, so I’m sorry. Our plan was flawed in so many ways. And Bryn, I didn’t really overhear what you were saying. I was working in the den,” Carlos said, “half listening. You seemed to be talking about Rachel and I tuned out.”

  Although these two knew all about my relationship with my mother, I didn’t really want anyone to hear my babbling last night. It was embarrassing enough to think a stranger, even a ghost, had heard me. I’d gotten on a tangent and let loose all these emotions about my life. I didn’t want anyone but that cat, Moonraker, to hear my speech, but it turned out one ghost, one cat, and one employee had been privy to the fact that Rachel and I had once had the same boyfriend, at the same time, unbeknownst to either of us. That was a tidbit I kept under lock and key, especially because the thought of that boyfriend cheating on us with each other was sickening to me. Rachel had laughed when she found out, but my relationship with Justin had been much more serious. On my part only, it turned out.

  Eve sniffed. She was crying. Now I felt bad I’d made her cry, the sensitive thing she was. “OK, you two,” I said. “No more of this spying stuff. If I fall down the stairs and break my arm, you are not responsible. But you have to allow that I’m going to keep trying stuff to become more independent. Being blind sucks big-time, and I have to have moments when I don’t rely on you.”

  “I understand,” she sniffed.

  “Get a cup of coffee, Eve, because now I have something incredible to tell you both about this pirate ghost who is not a pirate and doesn’t appreciate we call him that. He’s a reputable sea dog from the 1850’s named Captain Caspian Cortez.”

  **

  We had to leave Cove House that morning. The Roslyn Eatery was waiting for the follow-up to our investigation. And I had a reunion with Hodor later, something I was looking forward to with such delight, it was hard to concentrate on much else. I’d sleep with the warmth of Hodor on my bed in Floatville tonight. That was something else to look forward to.

  Although I hated to walk away from this gold mine of paranormal activity, I knew we could pick up our Oregon investigation where we’d left off in a few days. We’d be back to the coast as soon as we could. I’d only mentioned I was leaving for a fortnight in an effort to bring the ghost out of hiding. We hadn’t intended to be gone long at all. Certainly not two weeks.

  Our original plan had been to return to the coast in a week, but things changed now that I had Caspian and because of him had my sight. I’d decided to temporarily move Moody Investigations headquarters to Oregon for the Spring. April was a few days away, the rain would let up soon, and I had an idea of how to proceed on the mystery of Caspian’s murder in exchange for sight.

  These next weeks I would be torn between accommodating three beings of the masculine persuasion — Caspian, Jim, and Hodor. I had obligations to each of them. I also had to accommodate my mother and her need for a place to hang her witch hat for a few weeks. I’d told Eve and Carlos, who feared her equally, that my mother would return to Oregon with us. I hadn’t been able to see the look they exchanged but could imagine it involved wide eyes in fear and maybe even a retching parody from Carlos. I’d initially balked at the idea of Rachel’s invasion, but she reminded me several times in one conversation that she’d provided a roof over my selfish head for years. “The least you can do for me is let me stay in your guest room for a few nights.”

  Living under the same roof as my mother would be challenging enough, but I said yes to two weeks. Then, it became three weeks. Every time I spoke with her the visit increased by another few days, something that made me a tiny bit suspicious. And wary.

  “I want to see the house you inherited,” she’d said. “I love the Oregon coast.”

  My friend, Rhonda, a psychologist, once advised me, “Imagine yourself in a suit of armor, not letting your mother’s verbal daggers able to penetrate.” In my mind, I even wore the headgear too, like a jouster, with not even my eyes showing. Even before I went blind.

  While Eve and Carlos packed up any equipment we’d need for the Roslyn case, I decided to enjoy a second cup of coffee on the porch. I tapped my way outside, in time to “Great Bowls of Fire.” I’d always been careful to hide my screechy singing voice, but these days, I couldn’t have cared less. Being blind afforded me liberties I hadn’t felt before and it was liberating.

  “You shake my butt and you rattle my pain,” I sang. “Goodness Graces, Great Bowls of Fire.”

  Finding the wicker chair, I seated myself with my mug of hot coffee and cream. Bundled in a red fiberfill parka and a wool beanie, I let Carlos and Eve do all the work loading The Marshmallow and thought about their reactions to my recent revelation.

  These two were used to hearing I saw ghosts, communicated with them in some way, had feelings and twinges and visions, but they’d never heard me say I had a three-hour conversation with someone who’d been dead over a hundred years. Not until this morning. I’d told them everything. Had I been able to see Carlos and Eve, I was sure their mouths were open as I described Caspian, his way of speaking, even the fact that he called my face grotesque after all that attention Eve spent on my makeup.

  “He was damp from drowning,” I’d said. “He squishes slightly in his boots and wants me to find out how he died to give him a proper burial.”

  Eve wondered why they couldn’t see him and a niggling thought wormed its way into my mind to ask myself if she believed I’d seen a ghost at all. After all, I’d lied on camera about seeing blood on the wall. Eve knew I could lie now. Convincingly.

  “I don’t know why you can’t see him. Neither does he.” I remembered a Primrose cousin having an imaginary friend when he was eight years old and all my weird relatives believing that he had a spirit guide who was a super-hero until he confessed his lie at the age of eighteen. Other families might have sent him for counseling. Mine praised his mojo, then when he turned out to be a fake, they simply chuckled and said he had the Primrose imagination.

  The morning air was crisp enough on the porch to keep me awake. A crow called from the trees to my right and took flight. I heard the wings flap as it passed the space not far off the porch.

  “Do we really need everything for Roslyn?” Eve asked.

  “We do.”

  For the first time in months, I was almost happy. As happy as I could be at this point. My heart felt lighter, like when I’m lying in bed with an entity on top of me, unable to move and the scary thing lifts off me and dissipates. This morning, something dark and oppressive had lifted from my psyche but I wasn’t sure what it was.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you guys,” I said as Eve walked by with a heavy box, my lips twitching in a smile
.

  Carlos followed. “No, you’re not. You love being the pampered talent.”

  They both stopped in front of me.

  “Do you think,” Eve ventured, “Caspian will leave the house and come with you to Roslyn?”

  “I know he can because I saw him at The Eatery. I’m hoping he does it again.” The cawing crow took up again in a tree to my left.

  “At least he isn’t with you all the time, hovering,” Carlos said. “That would be invasive.” Carlos picked up a heavy box from the porch and started down the steps for The Marshmallow. “If he was here now, you’d be able to see us doing all the work.”

  “And you could help us,” Eve laughed.

  I looked to where Caspian had appeared, leaning against the post at the top of the stairs smiling smugly. I turned to look Eve in her beautiful black eyes and grinned, my eyebrows arched.

  “What makes you think I can’t see you?”

  Eve shot me a look of surprise. She spun around to scan the porch, attempting to see if Caspian was present. “Is he here?” she asked.

  I pointed to the man standing directly behind Eve, a man who had his arms out as if to reveal himself. He stared into her face six feet away.

  “I don’t see him,” Eve said disappointed.

  It was fricking awesome being able to see, even if my sight was sporadic and dependent on the presence of a ghost who came and went. “I guess the sea captain is just my ghost.” I stared hard at the man on my porch.

  Caspian’s eyes sparkled in the morning light as he dipped his head as if to say, “You’re welcome.”

  I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help myself.

  THE END

  Thanks for reading Moody & The Ghost –DEAD AHEAD

  Acknowledgements

  There are always scads of people to thank for helping make a book a reality. Luckily, I don’t have all those editors, agents and publishing people to list because I’m an Indie Author. My staff are my husband, who supplies meals and support, and my dogs who supply entertainment and foot warming on cold days. There are always various sub-contractors who don’t do any of that care-giving stuff and actually get paid.