I twisted my purse strap and chewed on my bottom lip. “All right.”
“And one quick question, you are twenty-one, right?” He gave me a sheepish smile.
“Uh, yeah. Way past twenty-one. I’m twenty-four.”
Midas chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that’s way past twenty-one, but good. That’s good. There are certain insurance rules we have to follow on these investigations.”
“Okay.” I shuffled around wondering how to end this.
“I’m picking up Sierra and Josh on the way. I wouldn’t mind picking you up too if you’re close. Every minute the team can share helps to keep everyone on the same page.”
“I think I’ll drive, if you don’t mind. We’re meeting here, right? I’ll just follow you guys.”
Midas shrugged good-naturedly. “That works.”
“I’ll check in with Sara. I’ll see you back here at four.”
“Don’t forget to wear your hiking boots.”
I gave him a thumbs-up and went to face Sara.
Chapter Eight—Midas
I had a stack of paperwork to file, and I put in another call to the current owner of the Oak Grove plantation. I left a polite message and hoped that someone responded soon. Getting into the house would be helpful, or so I thought. By the time I stepped back out of my office, it was nearly noon and Cassidy was gone. Sara was closing up her laptop and getting ready to leave too.
“You want to grab some lunch?” I suggested. I hoped this would give us the chance to talk. This was probably the first time I’d suggested “talking” with Sara; she always had to win, even when we weren’t arguing. But if we were going to move on and remain friends, apologies needed to be made. There was plenty of blame to go around for why it all fell apart. I should never have been so dead set against her Hollywood aspirations. At first, I laughed it off. Personally, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else than GCP, but as she pointed out to me on more than one occasion, she wasn’t independently wealthy.
“I don’t have the Demopolis wallet behind me, Midas. Unless you’re asking me something specific. Is this your roundabout way of proposing?”
I’d stammered and stuttered my way out of that line of questioning, but it didn’t last. And once the Triton Film Company came calling, there wasn’t anything I could do. She hinted once that she’d stay if we did take the marital leap, but that was hardly a reason for proposing. We’d been dating for four years, almost as long as we’d been operating GCP. For the first two years, things were great; we had our mutual love for the paranormal to keep us close. But then things went haywire. Our team grew, and we had the headaches of running a business—one that didn’t charge customers for our services—and a complicated relationship. It just didn’t work. But I missed her. I missed what we had.
“I’m no wide-eyed ingénue, Midas. I don’t think lunch is a good idea. Besides, I think you’ve already found my replacement.” She shook her red curls, and I tried to pretend I didn’t see her silk undershirt peeking out from the open buttons of her shirt. “Take my advice, quit mixing business with pleasure. You won’t always come out on top. One day, someone is going to break your heart.” She stomped toward the door, her high heels clicking on the stone floor.
“Sara, can’t we at least try to part ways as friends? We have other things to think about besides ourselves. What about what we’ve built together—Gulf Coast Paranormal was our baby. Don’t you think we at least owe it to our team to try and work things out?”
“I don’t think this was ever our baby. This was all you, Midas. Just as you’ve shown today. You didn’t even think to talk to me before you hired another person? Yeah, save me the bull.”
“What bull? Cassidy has a talent we can use, but I haven’t hired her.”
“You mean a talent you can use.” She was visibly angry and not in the mood to have that talk, apparently.
“No, that’s not what I mean, and I’ve never dated anyone on this team but you. Let’s be real, Sara. Our breakup was your idea. I think you must have amnesia.” Why did she always bring out the worst in me? My efforts weren’t bringing me the results I’d hoped. In fact, I was making it worse. I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “What do I need to do to make you happy?”
“What do you mean? You want us together again?”
I dropped my voice and spoke as evenly as I could. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. You have made it perfectly clear to me that your future isn’t here. But I would like to keep things civil. I don’t want us to part ways with bad feelings. I care about you, Sara. I always will.”
She said perkily, “How very giving of you, Midas. To be honest, I’m much happier pretending to be your friend than actually being your friend. I don’t want anything from you, least of all your friendship. I’m out of here in two weeks. Surely we can fake it until then.” With that, she pushed the heavy door open and walked out of the office.
And that was that.
Chapter Nine—Ranger
I didn’t answer the phone when Midas called. He politely left me a message informing me that he was indeed taking my case and that the preliminary investigation would begin this afternoon. He reminded me that he couldn’t promise me anything, as some mysteries are never solved, but he did assure me that he’d do his very best.
What else could I lose? I didn’t have a dime to my name, and even if I could work with this dang lung cancer nobody would hire me. If it hadn’t been for my online work, I wouldn’t have anything. And now I only had a few months to live, according to the crummy state doctors. My old man was right. I should have died in the Gulf War. At least I would have gone down with some dignity, not like a wheezing coward.
And I was a coward. That’s what people said, those who didn’t believe I’d actually killed Melissa. “The boy’s a damn coward,” I’d heard even my old man say about me. I wished I could disagree with him. The only one who didn’t call me that was Beau. He’d been my friend all these years and never once called me into question.
“Come on, Ranger,” he’d said when I told him about wanting to work with Midas. “Let it go. She’s gone. Probably ran off with some college kid. You know how she was. Why drag up old bones now?”
“She was never like that, Beau. And she wouldn’t leave her Momma. She might leave me, but never her Momma.”
I couldn’t make him understand that I had to know what happened. I had to know that I had done everything I could to make it right. After all, I had left her there that night. I was a coward. Yes, the truth was I believed it too. I left my girlfriend on that road. I left her there to get killed by that screaming ghost and the black owl. I left her, and there was nothing I could do about it. She haunted me in my dreams, her big blue eyes questioning me.
Don’t you love me, Ranger?
I’d wake up screaming her name and sweating through my clothes. That had killed my short marriage with Ann Beauregard. “I can take a lot of things, Ranger, but you pining over a dead girl isn’t one of them.” She left me and our kid in a hurry. I couldn’t blame her for leaving me, but leaving little Steve? That was just shabby.
So I had reached for happiness but never quite captured it. I left it on Kali Oka Road one fall night in 1983. And as death approached I began to think of Melissa even more. In fact, it was easier than ever to summon her face. At times I could almost feel her beside me, her soft hand on my shoulder. I heard her whisper, “Go back. Find me, Ranger.”
I’d blown most of my minuscule savings on detectives and even asked a cop friend—well, I guess you could call him a friend—to investigate her disappearance, but nobody turned up as much as a fingernail.
Maybe Midas and Gulf Coast Paranormal would find her. Maybe they wouldn’t. It had been a good idea at the time. I heard they did pro bono work, and since I was completely broke there wasn’t any other option for me.
I picked up the phone to call Steve. “Son, you feel like taking me for a ride?”
“Yeah, sure, Dad. Are you going back
to the doctor today? I thought your next appointment wasn’t until Monday.”
Steve’s little girls were screaming in the background. Oh, that’s right; they were going on a road trip today. I’d forgotten all about it. Damn medications had me so loopy I barely knew what day it was.
“You know what? You’re right. I must have been looking at the wrong date. Sorry, son. You have a good time on your trip. I’m sure the girls are going to love Disney.”
“Listen, if you need me, just say so. The girls can wait to see Disney. You’re my number one priority right now.”
Steve had always been a good boy, and he was a great husband and father. Unlike other kids facing similar situations, he was humble and kind. He’d never met a stranger, and most everyone in the area held him in high regard.
“No, I’m good. Got everything I need. See you when you get home.” I hung up quickly and went in search of my keys. Then I had another thought. I picked up the phone and dialed Beau. He didn’t pick up, so I left him a voicemail.
“Beau, it’s me, Ranger. I’m taking a ride out to Kali Oka Road, going to look around. I was hoping to catch you, but you must be out. All right, talk to you later.” I hung up the phone and had a mild coughing spell, then quickly popped the pills they gave me. It would only stop the coughing for a little while, a few hours, tops. Then I would be as tired as all get out. That was plenty of time to do what I had to do. Beau didn’t return my call, and I decided I wouldn’t wait. Besides, this was something I needed to do.
It was now or never, as the King used to sing. I couldn’t die knowing I was a coward. I was going back to Kali Oka Road. I wanted whatever took her to know that I wasn’t a coward, that I would fight for her. And if she could see me, I wanted Melissa to know that I loved her so much I was willing to face hell itself to find her. If I was going to die soon and was lucky enough to see her again, I wanted her to welcome me with open arms, not run the other way in tears. She had to know that I tried. That I wasn’t afraid.
I walked outside. The noonday Alabama sun shone like a thousand lightbulbs. The old glass kind, bright and clear. I eased into my dusty blue truck. Once I’d planned on leaving my Blue Beauty to Steve—I’d hoped he’d appreciate her as he got older, but it hadn’t happened. I’d leave her to him anyway, and he could do what he wanted with her. He’d probably sell her. He was always scolding me about buying a new truck, even offered to buy me one for my birthday, but I’d refused. “Save that money for something else. I love my old truck.” Today I slid on my sunglasses, coughed into my napkin and ignored the red stain it left behind.
I put the truck in reverse and made the twenty-minute drive to Kali Oka Road. I thought about Melissa’s laughter. Her absolute love for life. Her off-key voice. Her soft hands. Tears threatened to blind me, and I brushed them away. I pulled off to the side of the road before I got to the bridge. I felt sick and not for the first time today. But I surmised this was a different kind of sick. I wasn’t sure yet.
I reached under the seat for my baseball bat and climbed out of the truck. I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror. I looked like death warmed over. I had lost so much weight I was barely recognizable to my grandkids. I had on a worn old denim jacket, even more worn blue jeans and my cowboy boots. For the first time in a long time, I had a strong craving for a cigarette. I wasn’t going to succumb to that craving; cigarettes were what had gotten me sick to begin with. That and a broken heart.
A shiny red car blew past me, honking its high-priced horn on the way. I didn’t care. I’d just as soon die like that than waste away in a hospice bed. Much better than drowning in my own blood.
I closed the truck door and walked across the bridge to the narrow lane where Melissa and I had parked so long ago. It was not used anymore. Who in their right minds would want to come out here knowing that a girl got killed here? I was gasping for air before I even made it to Lovers’ Lane. The once narrow road was covered by bright green bushes and prickly vines that appeared determined to smother the countryside. No fresh tire tracks and no evidence of partiers, like beer cans or prophylactic wrappers. This place used to be littered with them. But that was a very long time ago. For some reason, I began calling her name. “Melissa! Melissa Hendricks! It’s me, Ranger! Where are you? I never gave up, Melissa. I want you to know that.” I walked deeper into the woods; tears were streaming down my face now, and I called again, “Melissa!” For a split second, I actually felt brave. Brave like I could actually do this. I could walk this entire lane and find Melissa.
“Melissa, baby! I love you! I always loved you. You were the only one! Melissa, please come out. I want to see you one last time!” I cried now, “Melissa, I’m dying. I need to see your face before I go. Please! Come out!”
I continued down the path, stepping over broken logs and refuse. Someone had dumped an old air conditioner out here. Who would do that? Tears flowed down my face, and I struggled with the feeling of hopelessness.
“Please come out, Melissa. I may never get to see you again.” I was so weary that I held the bat limply. Who would I scare with this? I’d never be able to swing it. Not if my life depended on it.
I heard a crunching of the leaves behind me. Footsteps walked toward me and stopped just a few feet away. “Melissa?” I whispered without turning around. What if it wasn’t Melissa? What if I turned around and it was Melissa?
What if she has no face, no eyes? What if her mouth is black? What if she’s the screaming woman now?
I closed my eyes and held my breath and then turned around. When I opened my eyes and exhaled, there was no one there. “Melissa? Melissa, baby?” I couldn’t understand it. I knew I heard footsteps behind me. I wasn’t imagining that. No way.
A sudden wave of nausea overtook me. Damn cancer meds. They were almost as bad as the freaking cancer. More than once I’d had negative side effects from the many experimental medications I’d endured. At least now I wasn’t throwing up, but I felt strange. Like the time I did acid with Beau and Hope. Yeah, that was horrible. I clenched my fists and waited for the sensation to pass. It didn’t completely vanish, but I felt like I could go on. I didn’t hear the crunching sound again.
After a few moments, I decided I had been wrong. Maybe I should go back and let Midas handle this. My strength was leaving quickly, and I felt a weird buzzing in my ears. I turned around and opened my mouth to scream her name again when I froze.
Melissa stood in front of me. Or what was left of her. She wore her white and red t-shirt jersey, her cheerleading skirt and tennis shoes, but she was missing her hands and her head. Her hands were mere bloody stumps, and her head had been torn off its shoulders. Bits of flesh and tendons covered her shirt.
“NO! This can’t be you, Melissa! This can’t be you! I came back for you! Melissa!”
Then a loud screech filled the air. The black owl sailed toward me now. The thing that I believed was Melissa collapsed to the ground, just as she would have done the night she was killed.
The owl dropped lower and lower until it was at just the right height to grab me with its vicious talons. I ran back down the path away from Melissa’s dead body. How was that possible? How? I wanted to cough so badly, and I could barely breathe. I fell on the ground as the owl sailed past me, and then I rolled under my old truck. I would wait it out. I could see Melissa’s body still in the sand not far from the truck.
“Melissa, baby. I’m sorry I ever brought you up here.” I clutched the bat. I was steeling myself to face the creature. When I climbed out I would be ready for it. I’d pop it with my bat and escape. At least that was the plan. As I got ready to climb out from under the truck I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Melissa?” I eased my head around to see what was now with me under the truck. It was the woman with the black eyes and the black mouth. I saw her and screamed—she screamed back.
“Good God!” I tried to roll out from under the truck, but she reached for me and grabbed my jacket. I wasn’t going anywhere if she had anything to say
about it.
“Let me go! Let me go!” I said, swinging my bat at her. The woman was made of nothing. I was sure she was a ghost because my bat swung right through her. I jerked myself free, climbed out and stood up with my bat in my hand.
SCREECH!
I turned, and a second later I felt talons piercing my face. I was being lifted off the ground. And it all happened so fast I had no time to think about fighting it. I knew I was about to die. I should have died that night with Melissa, but somehow I had managed to cheat death. Not anymore. Death would find me now.
Then Beau was there. Standing over me. “Ranger, I told you to leave it alone.” The next thing I knew, my bat was swinging toward me. Everything went dark.
Chapter Ten—Cassidy
On my walk home, I had a crazy thought. Maybe I should touch Kylie’s painting again. Perhaps wet paint was the catalyst to entering my visions. I’d work on the painting, wait for it to set a bit and then touch it. I opened the door of my apartment and let the loneliness sweep over me. Sometimes I wished I had a dog or a cat waiting at home to greet me, but I’d never gotten around to it. Maybe one day, if life became normal again, I’d make that happen.
I closed the door quickly and locked it too. What was up with Mike? We’d been broken up for a while. I hoped his earlier “pop-up” wasn’t an indicator that he wanted to wheedle his way back into my life. Now wasn’t the time for him to reappear. I would never take him back. As if to banish any thought of Mike, I turned on Pompeya’s 90 and rocked out. After pouring a glass of apple juice and snacking on a leftover sub in the fridge, I decided to give my painting idea a shot.
I slid the canvas out of the closet and placed it on the free easel. I lovingly removed the sheet and stared at Kylie’s sweet face for a few minutes. For the 9,000th time, I asked, “Where are you, Kylie?”
Hmm…maybe I could add some detail here and here. Another dandelion near her foot. Another white cloud above. I couldn’t bring myself to touch her face. That seemed kind of sacrilegious. With a careful mix of paints, I lovingly added the new details and stood back to see my work. With hopeful expectation I put my finger on the wet paint, but nothing happened. I sighed, and my heart felt deflated. “Well, little sister. I sure miss you. Please come home soon.” I wiped a tear away with my thumb. I washed the brushes and turned my attention to the newer painting.
Ghosted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
