Ghosted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 1)

by M. L. Bullock

  I suddenly began to worry what my faced looked like. There were no mirrors in this room. The sky was gloomy, and there was no way to see my reflection in the window glass. I picked up the shiny bedpan, but it offered nothing except a blurry image.

  I heard screaming and dropped the bedpan on the floor. It landed with a clatter, but even that noise did not draw any attention. The nurse ran past my doorway, and others followed her. Someone was in distress on the other side of the hospital. I hovered in the darkened doorway and watched a stream of staff disappear down a stairwell. A gas lamp on the wall near me flickered and dimmed before it finally went out. Another figure approached, and I stepped back even further into my room. The screaming continued; it sounded as if some man was in pain. A sense of urgency grew within me. I had to go—had to flee. Now was the time to leave. I could wait no longer.

  In the darkness I searched for my clothes but found none. What could they have done with them? Surprisingly, the Frenchwoman’s clothing was stuffed in a basket, along with a brooch and a small book. The clothing fit me snugly and the skirts were an inch or two shorter than I liked, but this would do. Her shoes, however, were impossible to wear. She had much smaller feet than I did, and I would never squeeze mine into her cheap, stiff boots. Shoving the brooch in my pocket, I tiptoed down the hallway in search of the exit.

  The man continued to wail, and I walked in the opposite direction. I felt my hunger return as my stomach growled loudly now. I glanced behind me and scampered across the wooden floor to the presumably empty stairwell; everyone else seemed to be on the opposite end of the building. As I turned the corner I ran into someone. It was no nurse, but another patient. She wore a sack-style gown, her hair down in a fuzzy mess. I didn’t look much better.

  It was dark, but I could see her face well.

  And she saw mine. Her hands flew to her mouth and smothered a scream, but even that sound filled me with dread.

  And I knew the truth. The monster I had been, the one I’d artfully kept hidden for so long, was plain for all to see now.

  I was truly a monster.

  Chapter Fifteen—Midas

  Today Cassidy and I represented the team at the evidence presentation with Norman. Sierra and Josh were taking some time off to “get their crap together,” as they put it, and Jack had to work. I was beginning to think Sierra was right, it had been a mistake to invite him into our group. So far he’d done nothing but become a sore spot for Little Sister. Maybe I wouldn’t invite him back. Helen asked to sit in just for fun. She was anxious to see the place again and said she wanted to be available to answer any questions Norman might have about the original theater. I didn’t hesitate. She had proved to be a fount of valuable information, and I liked having her around.

  We pulled in front of the Crescent, and I stared at the blank marquee. Cassidy’s idea might be a bit much for Norman, but I felt confident that once he saw the evidence he’d be a believer. It was worth a shot.

  He was waiting at the door. It was a few hours before the theater opened, so we had plenty of time to discuss our findings. “Hey, guys. Come on in. I’ve set up a table here in the lobby.”

  “Great. Norman, this is my friend Helen Devry. She’s an expert on local history and was a big help in our investigation. I think you met her before.”

  “Pleasure to meet you again, Helen.”

  “And you’ve met Cassidy already.”

  Norman cleared his throat and offered his hand to Cassidy. She politely shook it as Norman invited us in. “Come have a seat, please. Ladies. Midas.” Norman’s nervous smile stretched across his face as he led the way to the seating area he had prepared. “From the tone of your voicemail, I can tell you have something to share. This place is haunted, isn’t it? Ginger was right?”

  “Normally we don’t give a cut-and-dried answer to that question, but we can in this case. The Crescent Theater is definitely haunted, and you have several types of hauntings going on here. At least that’s what we believe.”

  Norman removed his gold-rimmed eyeglasses and set them on the table in front of him. “Oh? How can you be sure?”

  “Let me show you the video and audio evidence, and I’ll explain what I mean.” For the next few minutes we reviewed audio and video clips, including the sound of the crashing mirror in the ladies’ room, the shadow figure that stood behind Cassidy in the hallway and the sounds of applause we heard a couple of times during the night. With each piece of evidence, Norman became quieter and more uneasy about what he saw. I think he really didn’t know what to do with the information.

  “I believe that you have both residual and intelligent hauntings here. Residual hauntings like the sounds of applause are just that, residual imprints like memories that play repeatedly. Because this spot has been a home for theatrical performances for hundreds of years, it makes sense that some of these imprints would stick around and be heard occasionally.”

  Norman nodded in agreement. “What about this intelligent haunting? Is this the woman who chased Ginger out of the theater? Is it Estella?”

  “We don’t know if anyone actually chased Ginger, but we think it’s pretty clear that the upcoming performance of Fortunato’s Spring has led Estella Winters to make her presence known in some frightening ways. The renovations probably added to the ‘spiritual’ excitement. That happens more often than you think at these old buildings and properties.”

  “That’s bad news for me because Ginger Perry won’t come back if this place is truly haunted, and she’s the star of the show. My wife and I hoped that this concert would put this place back on the cultural map—not to mention get us out of debt.” Norman slumped back in his chair. “Well, I wanted to know, and you’ve certainly provided me with sufficient evidence.”

  Cassidy spoke up, “We don’t want to leave you or the theater like this. Midas and I have talked, and the team agrees that we would like to help you. I think I have an idea that might satisfy Estella, if you want to hear it.”

  “You mean like an exorcism or a blessing of some kind?” Norman rubbed his glasses again. Clearly the man was worried about what he might hear next.

  Hoping to explain what Cassidy meant and calm his nerves, I added, “Those kinds of solutions would work with an inhuman haunt, but that’s not what’s happening here. We think the activity is Estella Winters and Martin Hankins, meaning it’s human. So no, an exorcism is not what we’re talking about.”

  “If you have some suggestions, Midas, I’m all ears.”

  “This ghost, Estella…” Cassidy glanced around as she said her name. I wasn’t too worried; the lights were on and the place felt less ominous tonight. But then no activity had been reported here in the lobby. “She wants the performance she was denied in life. She committed a horrible crime to secure her role. And when that backfired on her, she was essentially turned out of the theater. I’m not saying she was a good person, but she’s lingering because her soul isn’t at rest. I think if we give her the chance to perform, she’ll be satisfied. It’s worth a shot.”

  “And if she goes, Martin Hankins will go. At least that’s what we hope,” I added quickly. What would Sara say about all this? She’d be kicking me under the table and voicing her concerns. We probably wouldn’t be having this conversation with the client, but this was Cassidy’s idea. It was worth a shot. Things were so active here, I couldn’t imagine it could be worse.

  “And has this sort of thing worked before?” Norman asked hopefully as he slid his glasses back on his narrow face.

  Time for some honesty.

  “I won’t lie to you. We’ve never done this before, but Estella told us more than once that it was her ‘turn.’ She’s going to continue to interact with the living until she gets what she wants. I don’t think trying this can hurt.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind, Midas?”

  “Put her name on the marquee. Let’s play the soundtrack and give her the applause she wants. I mean, let’s do it all. Deliver flowers to her dressing r
oom—your ladies’ room. We can even introduce her.”

  “How will we know it worked? Do you think she’ll actually show up?”

  “You might not see her, but I think it’s safe to say she’ll show up. She will make her presence known. And when we’re done, we’ll remind her that she has had her turn.”

  “I hope you don’t mind if I take some time to think about all this. I’d like to talk it over with Lucretia, my wife. If we agree, how soon could you do this?”

  “We could be ready in a few hours. You just say the word. Just call me. I’ll be bringing a friend in to help. He’s what you call a ghost archaeologist. He specializes in helping ghosts move on through various methods. He’s had some success.”

  Norman raised his eyebrows. “Ghost archaeologist? I’ve heard everything now, but I’m not saying no. I’ll call Lucretia and call you soon.”

  Helen, Cassidy and I left Norman and headed back to our office. We didn’t talk much on the ride back. I wondered what I was doing putting my reputation on the line like this. I liked Cassidy, but she’d never dealt with this kind of stuff before.

  “He’ll call. He’ll agree to it. He has to…he has no other option,” Helen said as she poured us all a glass of tea and we settled around the conference table.

  “I don’t even know if Bruce has time to do this. I should have called him first.”

  “Are you having second thoughts?” Cassidy asked in a worried tone.

  “I’ve never done this kind of thing before. It sounds logical, but anytime you deal with the supernatural it’s a crapshoot. It’s not a bad idea; I just hope Estella plays along.”

  “Oh, she will,” she said quietly. “She’s been dying to play this part.”

  My skin crawled to hear her say that. When the phone rang I nearly jumped a foot off the ground.

  “Gulf Coast Paranormal,” Helen answered cheerfully as she put the phone on speaker. I liked how she just jumped in and took charge. It was refreshing.

  “Hi, Helen. It’s Norman. Lucretia and I agree. We’re on board for the event you proposed, but the sooner the better. Is tonight after the theater closes too soon?”

  Without batting an eyelash or asking me, Helen agreed. “Sure, we’ll call with the details later.” He hung up, and we sat looking at one another.

  “Snap out of it, Midas. You call Bruce. We’ll do the rest. Cassidy, grab that phone book. We’ve got to order those roses!”

  For the next few hours we planned and plotted the evening. I called Sierra to let her know what we were doing.

  “That’s crazy, Midas. You guys are putting yourselves in danger. Please think about it.”

  “I know it’s crazy. That’s why it is going to work.”

  She sighed as if she were talking to a child. “You know, there are other ways to impress the girl. Less dangerous ways.”

  “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m trying to help Norman.”

  “Sure.”

  I heard muffled talking as she placed her hand over the receiver. Everything was not well at the McBride house. Another situation I wished I could fix. “You need anything?”

  “Yeah. How about a time machine?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s not worth talking about. I’ve got to go. Call me later. And Midas…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  It was too late for that.

  Chapter Sixteen—Cassidy

  I had no idea what to expect when ghost archaeologist Bruce Goddard walked into the GCP office, but it quickly became apparent that he took his field of paranormal study quite seriously. I was amazed to learn that he was also a criminal defense attorney. Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine him strutting around a courtroom in a suit. He seemed like the outdoorsy type, a guy who’d rather spend his time out in the woods looking for Bigfoot than defending clients.

  And as far as connections went, he knew as many folks as Helen Devry, who knew everyone, and the pair got into some fascinating conversations. If I had to guess, Bruce was around fiftyish but had the energy of someone half his age.

  The premise of his archaeological study was to recreate settings for spirits that they might be familiar with. His theory was that if you set the scene with items that might be familiar to the ghost, items like period clothing and everyday objects, you would attract those spirits and encourage them to interact with you. Midas gave Bruce the big picture of what we—or rather I—proposed to do. Bruce agreed that it might help Estella find rest, but he had some suggestions I would have never imagined.

  “If we’re going to be the audience, we have to dress appropriately. Midas, you need a suit, and Cassidy needs a dress. But where to find turn-of-the-century clothing on such short notice? Are you sure we can’t ask for additional time?”

  Helen spoke up, “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got you covered, Bruce.” She smiled prettily; her teeth were dazzling white. And was she wearing perfume? I didn’t recall her wearing perfume the last time I was with her. Hmmm…I wondered what that could mean. I smiled at her as she flipped through the contacts in her phone. “My dear friend Bunny has a photography studio, and she has props—every kind of prop you can think of. I’ll call her and see if we can peek through her closets.”

  “Could you?” Bruce smiled wide. “That would be great. And you too, Helen. I bet you’ll be a fine sight in an off-the-shoulder evening gown.” She smiled demurely, like she was a schoolgirl. Now this was sweet to watch. “Are there any others coming?”

  “Jack, our technician, and Norman, the owner of the theater. He might show up.”

  Midas glanced at his watch. “We don’t have much time to take care of everything, so whatever we’re doing, let’s do it. We have to be back at the theater at eleven o’clock.” He sounded irritated, but I didn’t know why. His phone had been vibrating all afternoon, and he’d repeatedly hit the ignore button. I didn’t want to be nosy and ask about it, but it was clearly bothering him.

  “You okay? You don’t look too happy about this investigation. You know, if you think it’s a lame idea, all you have to do is say something.”

  He gave me a half smile. “I don’t usually attempt to resolve these paranormal situations, so yeah, I’m a bit off my game. But I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” His dark brows furrowed as he spoke. He was packing up cameras and checking batteries. We were bringing only a few tonight, for investigation resources.

  Bruce called out to Midas, but he’d been so focused on his task he didn’t hear him. I leaned across the wooden table and folded my hands together. “Gee, somebody sure wants your attention.”

  “Yeah, she’s been calling all afternoon. I don’t want to hear anything she has to say.”

  “Oh.” I stood up with my hands on my hips. I tried to act like hearing her name didn’t concern me. It didn’t, did it? “Sara, you mean?”

  “Yeah, who were you talking about?”

  “Um, Bruce was calling you.”

  He shook his head and flushed under his tanned skin. “Yeah, just a second, Bruce. I’m almost finished.” He closed the last battery canister and shot me a pained expression. “I need your help for a second, Cassidy.” He took my hand and led me to the storeroom, then closed the door behind us.

  And then he kissed me. Again and again we kissed. I thought I’d drown in his embrace—and I sure wanted to do just that.

  “You have to know I’m crazy about you, Cassidy,” he whispered in my ear.

  Trying to catch my breath, I whispered back, “I’m kind of getting that impression, Midas.” I kissed him again and said, “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Sara is in the past—we’ve been over with for a lot longer than a few days. I’m not rebounding, I hope you know that. I want to get to know you…badly. It is taking everything I have to keep myself in check and remind myself to go slow.” He stepped back and held my hands, which were pale and small in his. His skin felt electric, and I couldn’t help
but smile despite his serious tone.

  “So yes, Sara’s been calling me, but I don’t want to talk to her. She made her decision, and I’m so glad she did because I would have wanted you anyway. I’m drawn to you. I swear, I never talk like this—I’m not the romantic type. But I seriously have a thing for you, Cassidy Wright.”

  I kissed him again, and when he let my arms go, I wrapped them around his waist and enjoyed feeling his muscular arms around me. Why had I ever fooled with a loser like Mike? Midas was so different, and everything I wanted. Smart, funny, but serious when he needed to be. And he understood me.

  “Unfortunately, although you are a lovely distraction, you are still a distraction. I’d like to keep our professional and personal relationships separate, if possible. That’s always been my rule.” He touched my hair and ran his thumb across my bottom lip.

  “I hate your rule,” I said with a frown. “And for the record, you broke it this time. I didn’t invite you into the storage room.”

  Midas grinned down at me, and I thought he might kiss me again, but he didn’t. “So noted. Let’s stay sharp, especially since we are breaking new ground tonight. I’ve never watched a ghost archaeologist at work before.”

  “Let me go, Midas, or I won’t let you out of this room.” With a laugh he released me, and I stepped back feeling warm and flushed. And a few other things.

  Jack walked in and caught us—but he either didn’t care or he’d seen it before. He wasn’t impressed. “Come on, you two. Am I the only one working here?”

  I elbowed Jack playfully. “I’m working. What can I help you with?”

  “Let’s load the van. We’ve got to set up the cameras once we get there, and then y’all have to put the props out after that. This is a crazy idea.” He shook his head disapprovingly.