by Amy Boyles
For the first time I realized I’d been living a pretty lonely life. But whatever. It was my life and I loved it. I loved chasing down ghosts, helping them transition, even using my ghost lasso to catch them.
Wait. No ghost lasso. Anita had yanked my clearance to gear. Didn’t matter. I could do this job without the gear. I’d been trained by the best—Vince Breneaux.
Only now Vince was dead.
The air conditioner kicked on, and cold air washed over my skin, pricking it to points. I closed my eyes. I needed rest. When my watch alarm went off much later, I awoke ready for action.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Susan was nowhere to be found. A knock came from the door.
I opened it to find Roan. The woodsy scent of his aftershave trickled up my nose, making my insides twist. “You’ve got visitors downstairs.”
I grabbed my purse and threw it over my shoulder. “Time to get rolling.”
FIVE
I stood outside Soul Food and Spirits with Xavier Bibb and his posse. Xavier, dressed in black, his blond hair spiked to a point in the center of his head, waved his arms around as he directed how the whole shebang was going to go down.
“Truck and Slick, stay close to Blissful, here. We need to make sure she feels safe. Do we each have our EMF recorders?”
Slick, a redhead with his hair plastered to his head with what looked like a handful of gel, snickered. “We’re not amateurs, Xavier. Just because you’re getting movie offers doesn’t mean we don’t remember how to do our jobs.”
Xavier waved his arms again. “I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
He pulled a rectangular box from his back pocket. It looked like a phone, but from the buttons and lights I could tell it was an EMF—Electromagnetic Field device.
I rolled my eyes. Folks who claimed to have seen ghosts or interacted with spirits often used EMF readers. They claim the electromagnetic field that naturally occurs on the planet is disrupted when spirits are nearby. This usually caused a spike on the reader. It was just a way of creating pizzazz for a viewing audience.
Folks like me didn’t need EMF readers. I am an EMF reader. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like that when ghosts like Susan decided to have lunch with me.
“Blissful,” Xavier said dramatically, “I need you to stay here for a minute. Is that okay? I will go and check that everything is ready inside for us.” He enunciated each word as if he were talking to someone who was, I don’t know, stupider than stupid.
“Sure. I’ll be fine.”
The night had cooled off from the day. I hugged my arms, warding away a chill.
“We’ve got hot chocolate if you’d like some,” Slick said.
“Sure.” Why not? Might as well fuel my body with some sugar before I fake ghost hunted. “So how’d you get here so quickly today?”
“We live nearby,” Slick said.
“Why?” Not that I was trying to be nosy, but why would you live near a tourist town that specialized in ghosts?
“Because we like spirits,” Truck said. He was big, with dark honey-colored skin, curly black hair and light blue eyes. “We’d never done a show here before, though, so when Xavier heard about your encounter today, it seemed like the perfect time.”
Slick sniggered. “Yeah. Perfect before he jaunts off to Hollywood to sign a big movie deal.”
Did I sense tension in this ghost-hunting paradise?
“Everyone’s got to live their own life,” Truck said.
Slick clenched his jaw. I sipped hot chocolate that Truck had poured from a thermos and pretended to be intensely interested in it even though all I could think about was whether or not Susan would get enough juju going to get Lucky Strike to show up. Course, once I had him cornered, how was I going to catch him? It’s not like I could snag a ghost with my bare hands.
Problems, problems.
But this was a big problem. Like a huge problem. I couldn’t just show up to Anita and say, Hey, I had Lucky, but since you didn’t let me have any of my equipment, therefore sabotaging me, he slipped through my fingers. But he did agree to transition to the other side. So, can I have my old life back, please?
Yeah, that crap wasn’t going to work. Not even if I poured freaking sprinkles on it and set it on fire with gasoline.
“Where are the ghosts? We’re ready for them. We’re here to splat every single one of them.”
Truck and Slick both groaned.
I glanced around the van and saw two little old ladies, legs splayed wide, with what looked like Ghostbusters proton packs strapped to their backs.
I burst into laughter.
All eyes shifted to me. I bit my tongue to keep from busting a gut. One of the old ladies was short with thick Coke-bottle glasses. Her lower lip trembled from…I didn’t know what, because the look of absolute seriousness on her face was shockingly funny.
The other woman was taller, with her silver hair wrapped into a bun atop her head. She looked like a baking granny. The kind who always showed up to a wake with casseroles and cookies. But she was surprisingly modern with straightened bangs that were somehow blonde even though the rest of her hair was silver.
“We’re not joking,” said the banged one. “We’re here to help. Alice and I will go in with you. We’ve been working on the packs. We can trap a ghost.”
“Well,” said Alice. “We’re almost sure.”
“Shh,” said the other one, “don’t tell them that. Why do you always screw it up, Alice? We don’t want them to know that they exploded on us the other day.”
Alice threw up her hands. “I’m the one who screws it up? Ruth, you idiot, you just told them they exploded. How in tarnation are we supposed to convince them to let us in now?”
“Oh,” said Ruth, who clamped her jaws shut.
Alice shot Ruth a look full of ire. She turned back to Truck and Slick. “We’re ready to go in. Our equipment can help bring out a ghost. Then we’ll catch it on live television. We can help.”
Slick shot Truck a look that said, You deal with it.
Truck, who appeared to be the nicer of the two, stepped forward. “Alice, how many times have we got to tell you we don’t need help, and we wish you’d leave the ghost investigating business to the professionals.”
I laughed. To call themselves professionals was ludicrous. If anyone was a professional, it was me.
“We are professional,” Alice said. “We have a shop, and we work eight hours a day.”
“Do you have a television show?” Truck said.
“We don’t need a stupid television show to prove we’re professional,” Ruth, the banged one, snapped. “Besides, everyone knows Xavier is leaving y’all. Alice and I reckon he’s going to Hollywood to make it big. Y’all will need someone to replace him. That someone can be the two of us.”
Truck stifled a laugh. “Ruth, Alice, go home.”
But Alice wasn’t giving up. She pointed one squat finger at me. “You saw the ghost. If you demand we come in, Xavier will have to let us.”
Oh, now she was trying to make a deal with me? Yeah, right, as if I bought into amateurs making equipment. The pack on her back would probably explode if she farted the wrong way.
“Um, I don’t think—”
But a voice interrupted me. “Ruth Biggs, Alice Cassidy, meet Blissful Breneaux.” Xavier said it nice enough, but then he scowled. “Ladies, what are you doing here?”
For the first time I noticed the slight Southern tinge to Xavier’s speech. I don’t know why I never realized it—oh, I know why, because the guy was a fraud, selling television drama instead of real life.
Ruth stepped forward. “We’re here to help y’all. Our equipment’s ready. Just think, Xavier, you could be the first person to ever capture a real life spirit—well, not really alive.”
“He knows what you mean,” Alice said sourly.
Xavier placed a hand on each woman’s shoulder. “Ladies, I appreciate your help. I appreciate the fact that you wan
t to capture ghosts, but that’s not what this show is about. We investigate. Not capture. Besides, you know what happened the last time you tried to capture a ghost.”
“That wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Alice said. “The pack fell apart because it wasn’t screwed in right.”
Ruth laid the flat of her hand on her head. “We were just beginning to learn, then. Our technology has gotten much better. They get hot now. I even baked a chess pie on one.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Alice said. “He’ll think the equipment will melt.”
“Like it did that one time,” Xavier said.
Alice shot Ruth a dirty look. “See? I told you not to say anything.”
Xavier corralled the women away. “Ladies, let’s move on. We have a serious investigation to perform. If you want to help, go home and stop meddling with equipment that could kill you.”
Ruth waved him off. “Bah. I’m old. Lived a long time. It won’t bother me if the equipment kills me.”
“Yeah,” snipped Alice, “because you’ll probably come back and haunt me.”
Ruth smiled. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
I couldn’t help but smile as they ambled off, fussing at each other as they walked.
“Sorry about that,” Xavier said. “Everything is ready for us inside.” He did that weird shoulder squeeze again. I think he thought it was comforting, but I just thought it was weird, like he was faking his intensity. Boy, was Xavier intense.
“I’m ready,” I said. Was I ever. I just hoped that Susan was, too. Whatever she had planned, it needed to be spectacular.
Xavier glanced at Truck and Slick. “Is the equipment ready?”
Lines of ropes and cords wound from the back of their van, trailing all the way inside the restaurant.
“When is it not?” Slick said under his breath.
Truck nodded. “It’s ready. We’ve got everything all set.”
Xavier turned back to me. “Do you think you can do this?”
I bit back a laugh. “Yes. I know I can.”
His gaze narrowed. Xavier wagged his finger at me. “Your name. It’s been bugging me all day—Blissful Breneaux. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Vince Breneaux, would you?”
The bottom fell out of stomach. How would a cheesy television show host from a B-rated TV channel know anything about my dad?
I gulped a knot in my throat. “Yes. He was…he was my father.”
That fake concern filled Xavier’s eyes again. Okay, maybe it wasn’t fake, but it was seriously over the top.
“I heard about his death. I’m sorry.”
“How did you know my dad?”
Xavier slicked a hand down the side of his hard-shelled hair. “He was a legend in the field. But I never knew him, only heard of him.”
How could my dad have been a legend to Xavier when the Ghost Team was off the grid?
“You’d heard of him?” I said.
“Yeah, from Anita. Anita Tucker.”
The bottom fell again. The world was shifting. How the heck did Xavier know Anita?
Xavier squinted at me. “Now it all makes sense. You’re Blissful Breneaux. No wonder you had lunch with a ghost. You’re a ghost magnet!”
“Shh,” I said. “Don’t say it too loud.”
He smiled coyly. “You’ve been pretending this whole time. I must say, I nearly fell for it. You haven’t been scared at all.” He didn’t wait for me to speak. “But listen, for the show can you keep it up? Make the folks at home think you’re pretty upset but strong enough to handle the spiritual realm?”
Sure. Why not? “I can do that.”
The excitement in Xavier’s voice was evident. “Wow. Blissful Breneaux. You can see ghosts. Talk to them.”
“Like I said,” I ground out. “Can we just keep that between us? I’m here working.”
Xavier looked confused. “I thought you were fired.”
My stomach pretzeled tightly. I scoffed. “I wasn’t fired.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. “I have to say, you’re nothing like what Anita described. She said you’re cocky, difficult to deal with and even self-righteous.”
“Did she?” I said between clenched teeth.
“But Anita exaggerates,” he said. “She sent me an e-mail a couple of months ago that the two of you weren’t getting along. She figured it was only a matter of time before she got rid of you.”
I stopped. “What?”
Xavier shook his head. “I said the wrong thing, didn’t I? Sometimes I forget and say the wrong thing. Listen, don’t let this affect how you react in there. This could be a whole new job for you. As you know, I’m leaving Ghost Wranglers. They’re going to need a new leader.”
I slowly followed Xavier up the steps, letting what he’d said sink into my brain. Anita had known months ago that she was going to get rid of me. She’d known it the entire time; she’d been waiting for her chance.
Fire burned in my gut. I fisted my hands. I watched as Xavier hit the top step and opened the door to Soul Food and Spirits. In that moment I knew exactly what needed to be done.
I had to get a copy of his e-mail. Prove that I’d been sacked by a biased woman. I slowly smiled. Anita Tucker, you’ve met your downfall.
SIX
I met the owner of Soul Food and Spirits as soon as we entered. She was an older woman, midfifties. She wore a floral skirt and black button-down blouse. She reminded me of a 1960’s housewife, like June Cleaver from Leave It to Beaver.
“It’s so wonderful to see you.” She even spoke like June Cleaver.
Xavier laser focused his dark eyes on me. “Blissful, this is Meredith Wilkes. She owns the restaurant.”
She gloved my hand with hers. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you had such a distressing encounter at my restaurant. Please come in tomorrow for a free meal.”
As much as I didn’t want to hang around town like I was some sort of local celebrity, I still smiled and managed a, “Sure. Thanks.”
Xavier turned to the camera. “Now Mrs. Wilkes is going to leave so that we can start our investigation.”
Meredith turned to the door.
“But before she leaves, Mrs. Wilkes is going to lock us in for the night. She will return at precisely three a.m. to free us.” Xavier shot her a dramatic look. “Are you ready, Mrs. Wilkes?”
She raised a key. “I am.”
“Then do it. Lock us inside with a spirit so terrifying that Blissful here is traumatized.”
Truck swung the camera to me. I grimaced as if I were terrified. Not sure it worked.
Mrs. Wilkes exited, and Xavier turned to the cameras. “Everyone, flashlights ready?”
I’d turned on a headlamp I’d been given.
Xavier sized all of us up and looked at Slick. “It’s lights out.”
Slick flipped off all the lights, leaving us cast in darkness.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I don’t want you to try this at home. This is not for the faint of heart. But if you do try it, make sure you’ve got your EVP—electronic voice phenomenon—recorder ready.”
He raised his wrist. Strapped to it was a very expensive-looking watch. “I’ve got mine here and ready to go. What we’ll do is walk around the house and attempt to speak to the spirit.”
He paused. “If anyone is here, if the spirit that haunted this place earlier is here, speak to us. Can you give us a sign that you understand?”
A rap sounded on the wall. Xavier, bug-eyed and bushy-tailed, whirled toward the camera. “Did you hear that?”
Slick walked forward. “Definite spirit sign. The EMF is off the charts.”
“Wow.” Xavier turned to me. “Blissful, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Listen, Xavier, I was wondering…when we’re done, can I take a look at that e-mail? The one from Anita?”
Yeah, I knew it wasn’t a great time to ask, but they could edit it out. I mean, these guys were professional. At least that’s what they’d been te
lling me.
He gripped my shoulder. “Absolutely.” Then he turned to us. “I think it’s time we split up.”
“Great,” I said. I was dying to get away from these guys and do my own investigating. Other spirits might appear. Fingers crossed.
“You’re with me,” Xavier said.
My hopes sank. But I had to look on the bright side. Maybe I’d find out more about his relationship with Anita, the bimbo who stole my job.
Sorry. That is not nice to call someone a bimbo.
How about bimbette?
Better.
I followed Xavier through the darkened restaurant. The building had originally been a house. The dining room was the parlor/dining area of the home.
He spoke into the camera in his hand. “Blissful and I have moved into another part of the house. It’s just us. Alone. With the ghost. I’m keeping my feelings in check, but it’s hard. The fear in this place is thick.”
I rolled my eyes. What a ham.
Wooden floorboards creaked beneath my feet. If I hadn’t been afraid of ghosts, I might’ve been spooked.
“Psst.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Susan stood in the corner. “Psst. Can you see me?”
I nodded.
“We have a problem,” she said.
I squeezed Xavier’s arm. “I need to run to the little ladies’ room. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I’ll be here.”
I crept off to an old bathroom and shut the door. I didn’t know why I was hiding. Xavier knew about the team. He wasn’t supposed to know. We were clandestine. But nevertheless he did. I’m sure I had Anita to thank for that. She probably met him at some ghost convention, gushed about how perfect his hair was and then snuggled her fake boobs in his face and told him all about what she did. Then she slept with Xavier for good measure.
Wow. Sometimes the extent of how much I didn’t like Anita surprised even me.
“What’s the problem?” I said.
“The kitchen ghost is threatening to come out. She’s all mad about the fact that you’re here. She wants to steal all my thunder.”
