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

by Kim Hornsby

  First, we needed to get Hodor. Although he had another few weeks of training, the school “principal” had phoned to say he would not be walking down the doggie aisle in a cap and gown. I was fine with that. I just wanted to run my hands through his shaggy black fur and smell his doggy odor again. Apparently, his Black Lab ancestry could not overpower his other breeds and Hodor was too excitable to be a guide dog. Since using TapTap, I’d given up on the idea of my dog being my eyes out there in the real world. According to the guide dog lady, we’d get some training with him today at the school. She would show me the basics of using him to guide me along the street. I had several lessons to take but today, I really just wanted to get Hodor back and go home to Floatville.

  I liked tapping and sweeping my white stick. I’d even named it and had taken to singing while tapping. I tapped out songs in time, even though you are supposed to listen to echoes as you blindly walk along hoping not to bump into a building or head out into street traffic. The cane was kind of growing on me. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to depend on a dog who licked his private area then tried to lick my face. He also chased his tail when he got excited and that had me wondering how intelligent my dog actually was, especially when he caught the thing and growled at it.

  As we drove, I imagined by tomorrow I’d probably have undone all the months of obedience Hodor had suffered. I was a pushover where Hodor was concerned.

  Tomorrow, we had actual work to do--work of the paranormal kind. My tiny team of us three would arrive in Roslyn, Washington, just before midnight to talk to a ghost who couldn’t keep her pinching hands to herself. That’s where I needed Caspian to show up because without him, I was kind of dead in the water, no pun intended. My clairvoyance was not kicking in these days unless you wanted to count channeling a ghost from the 1850s then not being able to read his thoughts at all.

  Two miles further down the highway, my nasty mind was already hatching a revenge plan for Bane Jackson and his skepticism. I didn’t just want to defend myself against this rumormonger, I wanted to make this guy look like an idiot. That sounded like fun to me and was completely justifiable if he was lurking in my coach house and snapping photos of me in private moments, all on my property.

  Game on, Bane Jackson.

  I already had some creative ideas about how to make him do a social face plant. My plan would involve Caspian and I hoped I could count on him.

  Chapter 2

  We pulled into the Seeing Eye Center for Dog Training in Olympia, Washington at one pm, exactly one hour ahead of schedule. I’d nixed the idea of us stopping first for lunch, so I could get to Hodor faster. The closer we got, the more I wanted to fling myself from the van and throw my lonely self on my dog to hug and kiss and never let go. “Bev won’t care,” I said. “She’s trying to get rid of him, seeing he’s probably bringing the other dogs down to his disobedient level.”

  I could sympathize with Hodor not doing well in school. I’d been a horrible student, attending school sporadically throughout my childhood. I was used to life on the road and could never sit still. Or make friends. Maybe Hodor felt the same way even though the only life he knew was first living the single guy life with Harry on a houseboat in Seattle, then with Harry and me as our practice baby.

  On Eve’s arm, I walked to the door of Bev’s facility, where the dogs were kept and trained. I wondered if they were all in cages in the back of the building. Barking filled the air as soon as Eve sounded the door knocker.

  I was probably better off not seeing how Hodor had lived these last months. If I’d seen him in a cage or kennel, it might have broken my heart. He’d been Harry’s and my baby, and we’d treated him like a pampered child, letting him sleep with us on the bed at night unless we decided to take advantage of our marriage vows. (At those times, Hodor was enough of a gentleman to jump off the bed and settle in his own dog bed by the door.)

  “You must be Bryndle,” Bev said. “Come in.”

  I just wanted Hodor to greet me, not have to converse with the woman about why she’d flunked my dog. “Thank you, Beverly.” I almost called her Boo Boo Bev by mistake, having taken up childish names for this woman who had the lovely countenance to train dogs for blind people like me. But ever since she’d said Hodor wouldn’t pass his exams to graduate as a seeing eye dog, the name Boo Boo Bev had been running through my head along with her words, that Hodor “marched to a different drummer.” I didn’t like this phrase for one good reason.

  I’d heard this phrase for years, about me. The first time, a second-grade teacher had told my mother the different drummer thing to explain why I did not follow directions like everyone else in art class when asked to draw a starry night. Apparently, I’d drawn a ghost floating over a city.

  I sat with Eve on what I imagined to be a couch and waited while Beverly left the room. “Is she going to get him?” I asked. I wished Caspian was here so I could see my dog when he entered the room but that would’ve made Bev wonder why I needed a service dog if I could see. The paperwork to get Hodor into service dog school had been extensive and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone who’d worked hard to try to give me a service dog.

  I heard dog’s toenails on the floor and the next thing I knew, Bev let out a yelp and Hodor was on my lap, licking my face.

  “Sit, sit,” Bev said from somewhere off Hodor’s wagging tail.

  “Hello, you big lug.” I had tears in my almost useless eyes as Hodor’s tongue found my mouth and inserted itself inside. I pulled back. “Hodor. Oh yuck.”

  I could hear Bev and Eve talking about signing papers and Eve, bless her darling heart, lied to say she had power of attorney and would sign. I hugged my dog and laid my face in his fur to breathe deeply.

  “He has learned some commands and I’d like to show you. It will be helpful to her,” Bev said.

  “Maybe we’ll schedule something another day,” Eve said patiently. “Bryndle has a horrible headache and wouldn’t be much good.”

  “I can put the harness on him and you might try having him lead her to the car.” There was a pause while Hodor continued licking my face, my neck, my coat. Then, Bev sounded like she’d resigned herself to the obvious. “I’ll email you to set up a time to do the training.”

  “Good idea,” Eve laughed. She loved Hodor too.

  Before I knew it, we were back in The Marshmallow and on the road, with Hodor standing between me and Carlos, his rear in the back seat, his front end almost on my lap. I wondered if he’d been in a car in the last few months. I’d read that the trainers take them everywhere to acclimate them to stores, schools, malls, and introduce them to situations that might otherwise be a temptation for disobedience.

  As we drove away, I thought about the money. I’d had to chip in a pretty penny to have Hodor trained and felt badly about anyone else who’d contributed, like the government, but I promised myself and them (in my mind) I would not let his training go to waste. I would communicate with Bev about how to best maximize Hodor’s special skills and minimize his problem areas.

  “I’m open to doing the training after Roslyn,” I told Eve. “Set something up.”

  That night, after phoning Rachel, my mother, and reassuring her that we’d take her back to Cove House while her place was exterminated, there was a knock on my bedroom door.

  Hodor gave a half-hearted bark from his sleepy spot against my legs.

  “Come in, Eve,” I said. Eve was the only other person in the house.

  “Bad news,” she announced, sitting on my bed to pet Hodor. “Bane’s blog has stirred up a lot of talk. People are wondering why you took so much time off. There’s speculation of addiction and rehab.”

  I might have laughed if rumors didn’t mean job loss. “Give me numbers and facts.”

  “On our site, fans are asking what happened, where you went, why you were unreachable for so long. Of course, they know you lost your husband, but they are all out of patience, I guess. Hashtag Moody is even trending right now in Seattle.


  “That’s kind of good!”

  “Publicity is great and all, but sometimes when you let the monster of speculation run rampant, it takes on a life of its own.” Eve laid down, snuggling with Hodor. I wondered if the room was dark.

  My cohorts knew I did not want to address the issue of my absence publicly, but it looked like I had to. Eve said there were hundreds of tweets and posts saying they’d heard I had a drinking problem, which was almost true seeing I often drank whiskey to be more open to channeling spirits. I never got drunk or even tipsy (I didn’t think) but I would drink enough to let go of the everyday worries that plagued my brain, all in an effort to loosen up. Yes, I drank to do my job better, but I didn’t want to lose sponsors.

  “Post something, then. Say I have a big announcement on Friday,” I said, then wondered what I would post.

  ***

  Like a doorbell, my ghostly guide had a unique way of announcing his arrival. As we entered The Eatery Restaurant at midnight, my vision returned, first with shadows and movement, then color and more clarity. I let go of Eve’s guiding arm to advance on my own.

  According to Jim, the owner of the large restaurant, Mary, the ghost, had surfaced recently to pinch his girlfriend and left a mark on her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure why she targets Britney,” he said innocently.

  We had an idea that Mary was jealous of the girlfriend but had yet to mention this to the portly businessman. Tonight was the night to run that theory by him.

  I looked to where Caspian wandered around behind the bar examining the rum section. I doubted Caspian could actually have a drink. When he whistled at the Captain Morgan bottle, I laughed.

  “Did you know him, Caspian?” I asked. I was pretty sure the rum company was named after someone who lived a century before Caspian. I was mostly teasing. Then I realized Jim and the others would see me smirking and talking to the bar shelves. They could not see Caspian.

  “I did not” Caspian said. “I suspect he is the exaggerated version of who you believe a pirate to be.” I stood to close the distance between the formidable sea captain and myself.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” I imagined Caspian with a tumbler of rum in his large hand. “Were you a rum drinker?”

  “I was. And whiskey.” His voice seemed wistful, probably remembering days when it slid down his throat to warm his insides on a cold night on his ship. This man had to miss so many things about his former life. His actual life.

  “Have you sensed a ghostly presence here?” I whispered only loud enough for the ghostly presence in front of me.

  “Not yet.” He turned, and his eyes twinkled, like he was enjoying himself almost too much. “It is indeed a wonderful distraction to be out of that house though.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. Until I came along, Caspian hadn’t left the property, he’d told me. For a century and a half, he’d been roaming around Cove House. For some reason, he could go outside, even to the beach, but no further than the property lines. He’d sadly recounted times he’d walked the property line wondering how to escape from his prison. I couldn’t imagine. “Let me know the minute you feel a presence or see someone else besides us.” I walked back to the table where Jim was watching me, his eyes big and I remembered that Jim knew me as blind. I had to come clean with Jim now that he’d seen me both blind and sighted. My client deserved an explanation to my unpredictable eyesight, as freaky as it would sound.

  I sat in the dining chair beside him. “I can see in the presence of my ghostly guide. He’s with me now, standing by the bar. I don’t see out my eyes, but I have psychic vision, clairvoyance,” I said. “My guide is here, and I’ve been talking to him.”

  Jim nodded like this was perfectly understandable although his furrowed forehead gave him away.

  “I’d prefer if this is kept a secret for now, Jim. As you know from last time, my fans don’t know that I’ve gone blind. And they don’t know that I only see in my guide’s presence.” I gestured to Caspian who was listening, leaning against the bar, his arms folded across his chest. “That’s who I was talking to. He’s been admiring your liquor.”

  “I see,” Jim said quietly.

  I asked Caspian just now if he felt Mary, or anyone else from the other side.

  “And?” Eve asked, approaching us. “Does he?”

  “Not yet,” I said, turning back to Jim. “I’d like to film this next part, if you’re OK with being on camera.”

  He nodded and looked to Carlos who was ready to press the start button on his camera.

  “Here we go then, Carlos.”

  Carlos counted me in. “4, 3, 2 …”

  “Before we try to summon Mary,” I said to Jim, “I want you to know that I believe Mary has some sort of attachment to you. We think when she touched you on our last visit, she said, ‘my love.’” I looked to Carlos who had the tape cued to play her voice amplified.

  When Jim heard her words, he looked properly shocked. “I don’t even know her!”

  “Maybe so, but she knows enough about you to have feelings, it appears. And that’s why we believe she’s been targeting your girlfriend.”

  “And cut,” Carlos said. “That looked good.”

  I put my hand on Jim’s plaid shirt sleeve. “There are lots of unexplainables here, Jim.”

  It was time to film the opener. Sometimes we filmed out of sequence, but I liked to keep the timeline straight and do the introduction at the beginning of the investigation. Harry used to say that my words held more anticipation, more excitement if I filmed just before I started the investigation.

  “Let’s film the opener outside,” I told Carlos. “The rain and the dark street looks ominous.”

  He agreed, and we all traipsed out the door. All except Caspian, who could not cross the threshold for some reason. He’d started to disappear the moment he stepped out the door. The lack of rules, procedures, guidelines in this ghost hunting and paranormal field was always throwing me off-track. Keeping me sharp. Just when I thought I knew what was going on, I didn’t.

  I glanced to Caspian who was now standing by the open door to the restaurant, looking as much like an Alive as Carlos and Eve. “Can you just stay there so I can look sighted?”

  He shrugged, looking insulted to be banished to the building’s doorway.

  Carlos was set up, the rain cover over our expensive camera, Eve under an umbrella beside him. “Ready when you are,” Carlos said.

  I nodded from under my black umbrella, the dark street behind me.

  “4, 3, 2 …”

  “Good Evening Mood Peeps. We are back at The Eatery restaurant in Roslyn, Washington, ready for the second part of our investigation into the resident ghost, a woman in a white dress named Mary.” I looked straight into the camera, because I could, and widened my eyes. “The ghost has been targeting women in the building, pinching and leaving bruises and we have a hunch that she might be jealous of the owner’s girlfriend.”

  It would be here we would cut away to my brief interview telling Jim that we believed Mary loved him.

  We filmed the next part with me just under the protected doorway. The rain was pelting the street now and sneaking under my umbrella to hit my pleather pants and boots. I worried it would be driven sideways to get the rest of me. Of course, I wanted to keep my gelled hair and fancy makeup intact. Show biz and all that was important. Especially these days because we hadn’t loaded a lot of new footage since the accident and I was using more smoke and mirrors in the act to keep people distracted from my lack of clairvoyance.

  After telling the camera we were going inside to investigate, we returned to the relative warmth of the restaurant and prepared to film in the hall where Jim had been contacted last time. Eve aimed a hair dryer at me, something she’d brought as part of her hair and makeup kit and after fixing my hair to stand straighter, I was ready to head to where we’d last seen Mary.

  I was walking with Caspian from the bar into the restaurant side of the building
when a coldness swept by me, chilling my back and making the hair on my neck stand on end. I looked to Caspian. “Did you feel that?”

  The room was dim, lit only by the lights under the bar, light coming in the window from a streetlight outside, and the light on Carlos’s camera, but I saw something in Caspian’s eyes that told me he’d felt something too. I put my hand on Caspian’s arm to stop him and we looked around the room.

  “Mary? Are you with us?” A brief chill of excitement shot through me to think that I might be back to summoning ghosts, to having my direct line to the afterlife restored. A year ago, I would have felt Mary’s presence so strongly the moment I walked in the door, that it would have left me dizzy. I might have known exactly what Mary was thinking. I might have even been inhabited by Mary herself. Ghosts often entered me to use my voice and get their point across. It was a freaky thing when that happened but over the years, I’d learned to control the spirit inside me, not let them control me.

  But, since the accident, nothing had worked the way it once had, as if I’d forgotten to pay the electric bill and I’d been cut off. As I waited for a sign from the resident pincher, I glanced at Caspian who was now headed towards the stage. Had this old building once been a theater? That would explain the large stage in this room. I’d meant to research the building but had totally dropped the ball in all the recent excitement. Now, I’d be adding historical bits and pieces after the investigation.

  I glanced to Eve who was behind me, taking cues from my words and motions. “I’m going to the basement stairs.”

  “She’s here,” Caspian said from the far side of the stage. “She’s angry that the man you call Jim has brought more people,” Caspian was now striding towards the dark hall leading to the basement. He stopped at the hall entrance and turned to face us. “She’s asking you to not come any closer.”

  “Eve, stop,” I said, freezing in my tracks. “She doesn’t want a crowd. Caspian just said this.” I kept forgetting that it was only me who could hear Caspian.