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

by M. L. Bullock

  Sierra was lying on the floor at the far end of the hallway with Midas beside her. He was still on his feet and looking as surprised as I was. Joshua asked her what happened; the young blonde was a weeping mess, but it didn’t appear that she had been physically hurt.

  “Joshua, take her out of here. No, I mean it. You need to go, Sierra. Go sit in the SUV until we’re done. Your emotions are too raw right now. You’re like a spiritual lightning rod. You don’t need to be up here.” Joshua didn’t argue, and neither did Sierra. He helped her up, and together they walked downstairs. Sierra was still crying as they left us alone.

  I looked at Midas with wide eyes. “Is she okay?”

  “She said she saw someone, but I didn’t see anything. I don’t know how much you know about sensitives and psychics, but it doesn’t take much to affect them when they’re stressed. Sierra gets oversensitive. Feels too much.” As Midas was speaking, I felt the air move around us.

  “I’m sure. I’m not a psychic, but this place creeps me out.”

  “Here, let me have the recorder. Let’s see if we can record any voices up here. Why don’t you walk the hallway slowly with the K2 to get a feel for the place? And then we’ll go room by room. Might help us to narrow down the investigation. We obviously won’t be covering the whole place this time.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I flipped on the gadget and slowly moved it back and forth in front of me.

  Midas clicked on the digital recorder. “My name is Midas, and this is my friend Cassidy. We’re not here to harm you. If you have something to say, speak into the red light and we’ll hear you. It’s the red light right here on my device. The device will not hurt you. It will allow you to speak to us where we can hear you. Did you die in this building?” He waited a good half minute and then asked, “Do you have something you want to say?”

  This went on for about fifteen minutes. The K2 bounced around a few times, but largely the baseline for the upstairs area was .4. I made a note of that in my phone, and we headed to the second building. Déjà vu washed over me, and I felt dizzy.

  “Okay, Midas, I have to confess. I’ve been here before, at least in my work. I painted this place yesterday. I took a picture of the portrait.” I tapped on my phone and pulled up the picture of Sabrina Elizabeth. I filled Midas in on what I knew, which wasn’t much except that she was a young woman whose husband had died unexpectedly and that she was about to remarry but might have been killed instead. “Yeah, the place isn’t like it was, not at all, but it feels the same.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “This place was called the Red House, and there were rooms called stalls upstairs where the women went to perform their services. There were some private quarters downstairs, but not everyone had those. Sabrina stayed with the woman who ran the place, Shannon. Here was their room.” I walked to the far left. This space wasn’t as nice as the building next door, but I could see the construction project hadn’t advanced too far in here.

  “As I mentioned, the brothel rooms were upstairs. A lot of women worked up there. In the building next to us, not the one we were just in but the one on the other side, there was a saloon. I could hear the music in the vision. It sounded tinny, like one of those pianos that plays old-timey music.”

  “You amaze me, Cassidy. This is exactly what Mark was talking about. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you don’t have a gift—that it’s not genuine—because you do.” His dark eyes were penetrating yet soft, and he touched my hand carefully.

  Despite all the questions I had for him about Kylie, I couldn’t help but joke, “Hands off, Midas. You’re breaking your own rule—again.”

  He showed off his half grin. “I now abolish that rule. It’s impossible to keep my hands off you, Cassidy Wright.”

  “Okay, back to business,” Joshua said as he came in and interrupted the moment. “She’s all right. She’s sitting in your truck. What’s it looking like in here? Any action?” Despite his bad mood, he couldn’t resist a wisecrack. I couldn’t blame him. Midas and I were being ridiculous right now, and there was serious stuff going down here. Or at least there had been.

  “We took baselines in the other building and are working on those in here. Cassidy’s got some information about this place. She’s been painting again, but let’s fill you in on all that later. For now, let’s finish the baselines, walk the next building and head back to HQ and wrap it up. I’ll tell you guys the whole story about Mark and what happened with him.” Midas appeared genuinely excited about it all. I had to admit I was feeling better than I had earlier today.

  “For the record, Midas,” Joshua complained, “I like doing the recon knowing what the client experienced. It helps with the debunking. I mean, if we don’t know what we’re here to prove or disprove, then how can we do either?” He put a camera on a stand and pointed it at the staircase. This building’s staircase was steeper and less grand than the one in the first building.

  “I get that.” Midas didn’t argue the point, but he wasn’t liking Joshua’s attitude right now. “When we head back tonight, you’ll know it all, and then you can go into full debunking mode. I think we’ll leave Sierra to watch the cameras tonight. She’s like a spiritual hot spot right now.”

  “Agreed, but…” I paused and glanced up. “It’s those footsteps again. Clunky and heavy. You hear that, Joshua?”

  “Yep. We’ve definitely got some activity. That’s no mouse running around up there. Let’s go.”

  And that’s when the fun began.

  Chapter Five—Midas

  I commandeered Josh’s thermal camera, and he took the digital recorder. Cassidy kept the K2 moving as we surveyed the top floor. The footsteps stopped, but the air grew heavier and sickeningly stale. That was surprising with all the recent renovations. As always, I wondered if we were alone. Unlike the rest of my team, I didn’t really have any kind of superpowers. But occasionally I could pick up on certain things, certain types of personalities. I’d never sensed fluttery, friendly ghosts. My few encounters were always with angry spirits that had an agenda—including my cousin Dominic.

  Where were you, Midas?

  Ah…there you are, Guilt. I was wondering when you would reappear. It’s been a few days.

  Maybe if I’d been more in tune I would’ve been able to prevent his tragic end. Or maybe not.

  “You see anything on the thermal?” Josh asked me.

  “Nope. Nothing unusual.”

  Cassidy whispered, “Oh my gosh!” I could hear the excitement in her voice. “I’ve got a point six, point seven. Back to point three now. Definite spike.”

  “Wait a second. I thought I saw something on the thermal. Kind of like someone poking his head out at the end of the hall. Last room on the right.” I was behind Josh in a second. I looked into the thermal screen but didn’t see anything. It wasn’t completely dark in here, but it was dark enough to get a good reading on whatever was around us. I felt my pulse racing now. These were the moments I lived for!

  “Play it back for me,” I insisted. Josh pushed the buttons, and we watched the figure pop in and out a few times. “Yeah, I see something, but man, that thing moved fast. Let’s walk down there and check it out.”

  “Shoot! There was something there!” He grinned with nervous excitement. Before I could respond, I heard the K2 hit the ground and turned around to see Cassidy getting slammed against the hallway wall. Her hands flew to her throat, and it sounded like she was being choked. In one horrible second I saw her lifted off her feet a few inches. Someone—or something—clearly had her. Then she collapsed against the fresh Sheetrock, creating a cloud of dust around her.

  “Cassidy!” We both scrambled toward the redhead, who was half sliding down the wall. Pissed off now, I growled at the air around me, “That’s enough! You don’t have permission to handle anyone in this group! You hear me? Josh, grab her K2. We’re done for today.”

  “Sure.” Josh’s eyes were wide with surprise, and I was sure his heart was ra
cing like mine was.

  “Can you breathe? Are you okay?”

  She gasped for air and said, “I can now. Thanks.”

  “Let’s get out of this building.”

  “No! We’re not running out of here—we came to investigate, and that’s what we’re gonna do. I’m not leaving just because Dr. Long wants to scare me off!”

  “Who the hell is Dr. Long?” Josh asked.

  Cassidy called out as she rubbed her throat, “Get the recorder!” I clicked it on, and she kept talking. “Is that how you get your jollies, Dr. Long? Strangling young women because you can never please them? You really were a murderer, weren’t you? What kind of man are you, anyway?”

  “A murderer?” Josh was as white as a sheet now.

  The red light beeped on the digital recorder. We had captured a voice!

  “Let’s get a camera set up in this hallway, Josh. I guess we’ll have to use one of the wireless ones we have downstairs.”

  The three of us scurried around like rabbits setting up the equipment. When we couldn’t stir up any more excitement, we went next door and did the walk-through. At least that building was somewhat quiet, although there were some significant spikes in the electromagnetic readings.

  We locked the buildings up and gathered outside before we left.

  “Okay, guys. Let’s meet at the GCP headquarters at five. I’m going to take care of a few things and then head over there if anyone needs me.” This whole situation with Josh and Sierra was awkward, but I didn’t want to press the issue. Josh left without another word to his wife, and he was clearly ticked off at me about not having the full prep on the building’s back story. Cassidy had questions for me too, but I still wasn’t prepared to answer them.

  I climbed in the SUV and turned the air conditioner down. Little Sister had her earbuds in, probably listening to country love songs, and she was threatening to freeze me to death. “I’m going to take you to the house because I have something to take care of. You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry if I messed up any plans you might’ve had.”

  “You didn’t,” I lied politely. I drove her to my house, handed her my keys and made her promise not to get into the liquor cabinet. I didn’t know what had possessed her to get a little buzz yesterday and confess to Josh, but I didn’t want a repeat performance. “And give Josh some space. Don’t call, text or post things to his Facebook page. Give him some breathing room. Talk to him after a few days if that’s what you want to do.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. God, I’m such a screw-up.” She got out of the truck, and I headed in the other direction.

  It had been many years since I’d been to the Mobile Police Department. I hoped Detective Steve Lewis was still on the force. He was one of the good guys and familiar with my cousin’s case. Luckily for me, he was there. He was completely surprised to see me. “Midas! Hey, what cha’ know that’s good? Besides me?” Detective Lewis stretched his hand out to me, and I shook it.

  “Good to see you too,” I said, grinning back at him.

  “What can I help you with?” He tapped his fingers on the countertop and examined me with a serious expression.

  “I need your opinion on something. Are you familiar with the Kylie Wright case?” My question caught some attention because everyone in the front office got quiet. They didn’t directly stare at me, but I could tell they were listening. Detective Lewis quickly waved me into his private office and closed the door behind him. He sat behind his desk, and I sat in front of it. Now I felt like a kid back in school.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I have a friend who’s interested in the case.” That wasn’t completely the truth, but I wasn’t ready to out Cassidy yet.

  “Is this work-related? You still chasing ghosts, Midas? I heard what you guys did down on Kali Oka Road. That was amazing, but I have to say you got lucky there. It could have turned out much worse for you. Someone must be looking out for you.”

  “You know, Detective, I totally believe that.” I didn’t care if he mocked me; I was used to it by now. Nobody believes in the supernatural—until they believe in the supernatural. “But I saw a painting the other day, and the setting looked a lot like the place where you found my cousin. Wasn’t that over off Hanover Street? Behind the old school?”

  “You know it was. Why are you asking me about this? You remember something about Dom’s case?”

  I was feeling frustrated now and second-guessing myself. Why had I come here? I should’ve known that Lewis wasn’t going to answer my questions. He was gonna want his own questions answered—good guy or not. This was a bad idea. Get up and leave now, Midas.

  “Well, I think this painting might be somehow connected to Dom’s disappearance. I mean, I know we found him and all, but are we any closer to knowing who murdered him? It’s been over ten years.” The older man stiffened, and his cheap wooden chair creaked. Lewis had put on a few pounds since I saw him last, but he still looked like a force to be reckoned with if you were on the wrong side of the law.

  “It’s true that it has been a long, frustrating ten years, and I won’t insult your intelligence and tell you these things take time. It’s just that we don’t have a lot of leads. We never have. And I’m not blaming anyone, but your family isn’t exactly forthcoming with information. If there’s anything you remember, anything you think you should tell me, now is the time. I would love nothing more than to find who is responsible for your cousin’s death and for Miss Wright’s disappearance.”

  With an unsure glance at him, I answered, “I wish I did have something to share with you, but I don’t.”

  Lewis’ probing eyes didn’t let up. He knew I had something. “You mentioned a painting. Is this something I can look at?”

  “Oh yeah, I guess you could. I have a picture of it on my phone. Keep in mind this artist has no idea about Dom’s disappearance or death. She knows nothing.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” I showed him the picture on my phone. “Yeah. That’s it. That’s where we found him. And this is Kylie Wright. Is this artist suggesting that Kylie is buried there? We haven’t been back there. I guess it would be the perfect place to hide a body, if you were inclined to do so.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Yes, that’s Kylie, but no way was the artist involved in this. I just thought you should see it, in case there was a connection of some kind.”

  “Who painted this? Who is the artist, Midas? I’m not saying she’s involved, but she clearly knows something, and it might be something she’s not even aware of.”

  I didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t how I imagined this conversation.

  “You’ve known me for years. I’m not an unfair guy. You want answers about Dom, and I need answers for Kylie and Dom. Having a conversation with this lady can’t hurt. Just give me her name.”

  I swallowed and told him my secret. “The artist is Cassidy Wright.”

  Chapter Six—Cassidy

  It was a good thing we wrapped up our investigation early because Uncle Derek was ringing my phone off the hook. I scolded myself for bringing it with me. It stays in the car next time. Today was apparently the deadline to sign the dispersal paperwork, and if I didn’t meet him and sign the papers, there would be no monies dispersed for this quarter. Seeing as I didn’t have a paying job anymore, I decided to bite the bullet and meet him between my appointments with Gulf Coast Paranormal. I texted him back and agreed to meet him at Dauphin’s Restaurant.

  The restaurant was high above the city, overlooking the dark waters of Mobile Bay; this was a place for special occasions, not the quick exchange I’d hoped for. I was a little underdressed for such a swanky restaurant, but I wasn’t going to go back home to change just for Uncle Derek. I didn’t really give a hoot what he thought about my wardrobe or anything else. Since my breakup with Mike, I’d successfully avoided him. Strange that those two would hit it off so well.

 
Sighing to shake off the heaviness, I pulled the car into the valet, stepped into the lobby and then dashed into the closing elevator. For thirty-four floors, I reminded myself that this was my father’s brother and that I needed to show him some respect. It was what Dad would want.

  I miss you, Dad.

  Sometime last year I had put all my family photos into an empty drawer in my bedroom. I occasionally took the pictures out, ran my finger over the faces and put them back again.

  Kylie…Mom…Dad…

  I felt bad each time I tucked them away, but seeing their faces every day hurt me more than it comforted me.

  And now I would have to see Dad’s face again because Uncle Derek looked so much like my father it was uncomfortable. But that was where the similarities ended. My dad was not a perfect man; he had quite a few flaws. He frequently forgot important appointments, and once he even forgot my birthday until the next day. He also didn’t know how to cook, wasn’t able to properly brush a girl’s hair and was a horrible singer. But those weren’t really flaws…those were just Dad. I’d give whatever I had just to eat his horrible food again or let him pull my head bald as he tried to cinch my hair with a ponytail holder. He’d done the best he could, all the while dealing with his own heartache. When Dad died, it was like the end of the world.

  And now Uncle Derek seemed to want to be the uncle he’d never been before the tragedy. I walked into the restaurant, ignored the hostess and looked for Uncle Derek. He waved me over with a frown.

  Speak of the devil.

  I could almost hear my Dad scolding me: Okay, Cassidy. Enough with the sour attitude.

  My uncle stood while I sat. It was an old Southern habit, and he was one for tradition.

  “Cassidy, dear. Good to see you. You’re looking…well.”

  “Uncle Derek, you look exactly the same. What’s the word I’m looking for…?” I smirked.

  “While you decide on what new insults to toss my way, here is the paperwork. Just sign it and you’ll be free to go. After lunch, of course.”