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

by M. L. Bullock

  I dug in my purse for a pen and allowed the waiter to toss a linen napkin into my lap. I felt my cheeks burn but didn’t say another word. I opened the envelope and pulled out the papers, then signed the bottom of each flagged page. I slid the papers back to him and started to get up when he spoke again.

  His eyes shifted around the restaurant as if he were more concerned about what people thought than about the fact that his only niece and last remaining family member was ready to walk out on him. “Surely you can spare a few minutes for me. If not for me, then do it for…”

  “Don’t say his name. Don’t you dare!” I whispered vehemently.

  “I wasn’t going to say his name. I was going to say, well, I guess it doesn’t matter.” He tugged at the neck of his cashmere sweater and examined me.

  I accepted the menu from the oblivious waiter, pointed at some random item and asked for a glass of water. As always, Uncle Derek took his time, asking questions about the entrée he was interested in, and then turned his attention back to me.

  “What can I do to heal this rift between us?” He crossed his arms and leaned on them as he studied my face. It was then I noticed that he actually did look a little different. He wore his hair very short, and there was more white than red in it now. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept much recently, and it looked as if he had lost weight since we last saw one another. Was he sick? Should I ask?

  “I don’t know. To be honest with you, I don’t think I’m really interested in healing any rift. I like being by myself.”

  “I figured as much. You always were a loner, Cassidy. That’s a trait you get from your mother. You look more like her every day.”

  I eyeballed him unhappily. “Okay, you can start this healing process by not mentioning Mom and Dad. You can’t just invoke them anytime you want to manipulate me. I don’t like it, and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing? Manipulating you?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer me right away and seemed to be considering my question. “I guess we do a lot of things we don’t realize. I’m willing to break the cycle if you are. We are family, after all. I know you hold some grudge against me.” His voice dropped a little. “Probably because your father and I didn’t see eye to eye on some things, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him. Or you. He was my brother, after all. And when he…well, after he was gone, I guess I didn’t do a very good job of reaching out. But I want to change that.”

  I couldn’t figure out why, but I was just so suspicious of this man. My inner voice said, Walk out now! But my father’s daughter decided to suck it up at least one more time and try to make a go of our relationship. Probably mostly to assuage my guilt. “What did you have in mind, Uncle Derek?”

  His expression softened a little and he muttered, “Counseling? Maybe therapy? I think it might do us both a world of good to talk about things with someone who understands. I mean, we have had a triple dose of tragedy, and I don’t think it’s unusual for us to behave the way we have. I admit I haven’t been the best adult, the best uncle, the best brother or even brother-in-law, but I’m not the only one to blame, you know. You aren’t a kid anymore, Cassidy.”

  “This is my fault, then?”

  “No. It’s our fault. Let’s end this quarrel and move on.”

  I sighed. How could I argue with that logic? “Just say when. I guess it can’t hurt to try.”

  He smiled his approval, and it had to be the first smile I’d seen from him in about ten years. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d disliked him for a long time, a lot longer than since Kylie’s disappearance.

  I glanced at my watch; it was a movement that did not go unnoticed.

  “You have an appointment?”

  “Kind of. I’m working with a group, doing some investigative work.” The waiter set down salads in front of us and asked if we wanted fresh ground pepper, which we both refused.

  “What kind of investigation?” He sounded nervous.

  “It’s not about Kylie. I’m working with a local paranormal group. We’re investigating properties for individuals who say they have ghost problems. Believe it or not, there’s a lot of supernatural activity right here in Mobile.”

  His voice was like steel now. “I don’t like the sound of that. Is that something you should be tampering with? Let the dead stay dead, Kylie.”

  With a glowering stare I muttered, “Cassidy.”

  His expression didn’t soften. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Cassidy, please stop this foolishness immediately.”

  “What do you mean? It’s not foolishness. I’m helping people!”

  He reached across the table and put his hand on mine, as if I were a child. I snatched it away as he said, “Don’t raise your voice, and what about your job?” He spoke in low tones now, but I didn’t give a damn. “Don’t tell me you’re not teaching anymore.”

  “Let me ask you something, Uncle Derek. Did you send Mike to see me? Back in October?”

  He sipped his water calmly and said, “I saw him at a fundraiser. He was there with his parents—they are wonderful people; I can’t figure out why you guys couldn’t make it work. But no, I did not send him to you.”

  Right. I’m sure. “Here’s your chance to be supportive, Derek. With this investigative group, I get to use my painting talents. I like it, and I’ve made some good friends. And for the record, if you see Mike again, please don’t send him in my direction. I have had enough of him and don’t want him back in my life.”

  My phone rang beside me, and I was anxious to end this conversation. I answered with clumsy fingers. I didn’t care if it was a telemarketer or Mike himself; I was going to talk to whoever was on the other end. “Hello?”

  “Cassidy Wright?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Detective Lewis with the Mobile Police Department.”

  My heart dropped about a thousand feet. “Yes?” Could this be the call I’d been waiting on for four years? “Is there news about my sister?” I held my breath.

  “No, I’m sorry to say, but we haven’t given up on finding her. Actually, that’s why I’m calling you. I’m reading over old interviews and talking with potential witnesses, and I’d like to talk to you about the case if you have the time today.”

  “I’m not a witness. I wasn’t even in Mobile when she disappeared.”

  The detective covered the mouthpiece of the phone while he spoke to someone and then returned. “Oh, I know, but I’d still like to talk to you. How about four o’clock this afternoon?”

  I stared at my uncle’s wide-eyed expression. “No, I can’t do it then. I have to…I have something I have to do. Can I come see you in the morning?”

  “That will be fine, but Miss Wright?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t. Where is your office?”

  “My office is in the main headquarters on Government Street. Just ask for me at the front desk.”

  “All right.”

  He hung up, and Uncle Derek’s jaw tightened. He had apparently heard the conversation and wasn’t too thrilled about that either.

  Well, it just wasn’t his day, was it?

  I felt the world swirl around me. “You know, I think I better go. Do you have what you need from me?”

  “Yes, I do. You’ll have the deposit in your checking account in the morning.”

  I stood up and slid my purse strap up on my shoulder. I looked down at him and wished I felt any kind of love for him. “I’m not going to do this anymore. My attorney will be in touch with you about the dispersal program. If we are to ever have a relationship, it can’t be based on your control of my finances.”

  He grimaced but was clearly too afraid to raise his voice at his favorite restaurant. With a tight nod, he dismissed me by ignoring me and sipping from his water glass.

  I left, passing right by the waiter carrying my food.

  Whatever. No meal was wo
rth enduring that man’s presence.

  It was time to go home and refocus before tonight’s investigation. I had a lot to think about.

  Maybe I’d paint.

  Chapter Seven—Sabrina

  Wednesday came and went. And despite my fears, my future husband knew nothing about what happened to me. I would rather die than tell him. I told no one—who could I confide in? Perhaps I should visit the sheriff? I decided against it. Bear would undoubtedly find out, and if he knew, he’d kill the doctor.

  I suspected Shannon knew all about it. She cut her eyes at me and barely spoke a word for days, at least not to me, but she smiled at nothing on more than one occasion. She spent most of her time lately either in the stalls upstairs or in the doctor’s apartment. I couldn’t understand the attraction. If that’s what it was.

  The doctor had left no injuries on me, no permanent ones, but there were purple bruises around my neck where he’d nearly squeezed the life out of me. To my horror, when the assault was over, he’d tried to kiss me. I didn’t fight him, although I wanted to vomit, but I didn’t kiss him either. I feared him, but I could not stomach the idea of his lips on mine.

  I hid the fingerprints by leaving my hair down when Bear came to me.

  Fortunately, he did not notice those marks around my neck when we made love in the dark. His touch would wash away the horrible memories of my time in Mobile, at the Red House and on Bloodgood Row and would heal the cruel marks left behind by Dr. Long. Or I wanted to believe they would. I wondered if I would ever truly forget this horrible place.

  Bear was gleeful, as excited as I had ever seen him. Before he left, he kissed me deeply and tenderly, which was unusual for him. He held me close and said in a soothing voice, “Just a few more days, Sabrina Elizabeth. Just a few more days.” I clung to him, pretending I didn’t sense the horrible foreshadowing that I occasionally experienced.

  Perhaps Saturday would never come!

  But it would come—I was being impatient.

  “Yes, Bear. Just a few more days and we will have the life we always wanted. I shall be a good wife to you—I swear it on everything.” Even though the room was dark, I felt him smile, and he touched my cheek before he walked out, his heavy boots clunking on the wooden floor. I crawled into my bed feeling happy. But sleep still eluded me until far into the night.

  The doctor never came. And Shannon did not return to our room that night. All the time I had lived in Mobile and stayed under her roof, she had always come back. If I cared for her, or if she cared for me, perhaps I would’ve worried about her—but it was a freeing thing to wake up without her pouring a drink from a whiskey bottle, poking me in the side with her bony finger and demanding breakfast. Or worse yet, waking up to find a strange man asleep in her bed.

  I took advantage of the time alone. I slid my worn suitcase, a hand-me-down given to me by a kind neighbor before I made the trip to Alabama, from under my bed. It felt like a lifetime ago when I met my first husband, but I had a second chance now. A chance to be happy.

  I opened the suitcase, my eyes feasting on the treasures I kept there. Yes, everything was still intact. I had a pair of candlesticks, which were not worth much but were about the only thing I had left of my family. That and the old Bible that had belonged to my late father. I also had bits of fabric and ribbon that I would use to decorate my new home. No, it wasn’t much, but it would be a start. A start for my new life. I hastily added a few more items to the suitcase, things Shannon would not notice. Although she knew I was leaving, she was not happy about this turn of events. Provoking her would not be in my best interest, and I believed that she would find a way to stop me if she could.

  I slid the suitcase back in place just as Shannon pushed the door open. She saw me but paused only momentarily before she flopped in her favorite chair and reached for her bottle. Her usually bitter tongue was silent, and she swallowed the whiskey in a single gulp. Shannon’s appearance disturbed me. She wasn’t normally a tidy woman, and she didn’t bathe quite enough or have a care for her clothing, but her dress was ripped in a few places. And as she turned her head, I could see the tell-tale bruises around her neck.

  She had been with Dr. Long!

  I dipped a cloth in water and wrung it out. She accepted it and pressed it against her neck. With closed eyes she whispered, “You must go, Sabrina. You have to pack your bag and go now.” She’d been crying; I could hear it in her raspy voice.

  “What?” I shot to my feet. “What is the matter? Did the doctor do this to you?”

  “Please don’t ask me any questions. Pack your bag and go, girlie. I have some coins in my purse. Take them and leave.”

  “I’m not leaving without Bear.” I poked my chin out and slapped the table. “You can’t do this.”

  She shook her head and threw the dirty rag on the table. “You are an idiot, girlie. I oughta let you get what you deserve, but for some reason I have a soft spot for you.” She poured more whiskey and appraised me with her sad hazel eyes. “You have to stop depending on men, girlie, or you’ll end up like me. On your back, all day, every day. You think the past few months have been bad? You just wait until you don’t have me around to protect you.”

  “Protect me? When have you ever protected me?” I sobbed. “I’ve done things I never wanted to do, just to pay you. Is that protection?”

  “I’m not your mother, girlie! And you don’t work for me, or haven’t you figured that out yet? You don’t belong to me—it’s him you have to worry about!” She pointed to her neck. “Now do as I say. Leave now, or I can’t protect you.”

  I froze in my tracks, trying to take in what she’d told me. What do I do? I can’t leave Bear! Where would I go?

  “You’re all he talks about, all he wants, Sabrina Elizabeth. He won’t be satisfied until he’s squeezed the last breath of life out of you. Trust me, girlie! Go!”

  I flung myself in front of her, looking up into her face from her feet. “Please don’t turn me out. Bear is taking me away Saturday. He didn’t want me to tell you until it was time to go, but please, just a little longer. I am sure he’ll make it worth your while. Please, Shannon.”

  She swallowed the liquor again and brushed me off her lap. “That’s it, then. But mark my words, you’ll regret this decision. He’s not going to let you go. He wants you. And I think he hoped you would want him too, but he doesn’t really care about that.”

  I sat on the floor, stunned. “Did the doctor do this to you, Shannon? We could tell someone! We don’t have to let him do this to us.”

  She stared past me and kept talking as she sipped her whiskey. “I used to love him once. I thought he loved me too, but he’s moved on now. I used to bring him toys to play with, but he’s not the kind of man who can keep control. He breaks his toys, but he won’t break me. And now he wants someone younger, fresher, with firmer flesh and sweeter breath.”

  “Bear and I are going to be married. I’ll be gone soon—I swear it!”

  Then she laughed and laughed and slapped the table. “You really are the stupidest girl I’ve ever known. To have all that fine white flesh and angel’s hair and be as dumb as a bag of rocks. Oh well, I tried to help you. I tried to warn you, but you’re too stupid to know it. If you only knew what I’d done for you. Maybe then you’d appreciate it.”

  A shout rose from the street. Shannon and I were on our feet in a flash and standing outside to see what the ruckus was all about. Someone was shouting about an accident at the mill. Cotton boys of the doffer crew ran down the street beside a cart that held a bleeding and broken body.

  Whoever the poor soul was, he was a giant of a man.

  And that man was my Bear.

  Before I knew it, I was running toward him.

  Chapter Eight—Midas

  First Night Investigation

  I poured Helen a cup of coffee and listened as she explained how she acquired her latest piece of jewelry. It was a large silver pin in the shape of a scarab with blue sapphires for eyes. �
�And my name is engraved on the bottom in hieroglyphics. They say scarabs bring you luck. I’m hoping this little thing will bring me some good luck. Not bad.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admitted. The bell rang on the door, a new feature I recently added when I failed to notice a transient who came in and helped himself to our coffee before I discovered him. I didn’t mind the coffee, but taking anything else was out of the question. I let him walk with the toilet paper but vowed that I’d do a better job with security. Things sure had fallen apart since Sara and Peter split.

  Did I miss her? No, I reminded myself.

  Maybe I’d ask Cassidy to come up more frequently to help around the office. Between her and Sierra, we might get something done around here. I was still up to my eyeballs in paperwork that Sara had left in an unsorted mess. I couldn’t understand it. She used to be so neat, so careful with our reports and records. I wondered how a person could change so much, but then I remembered she’d cheated on me. She wasn’t the same person. Or she’d finally gotten around to showing her true colors!

  Sierra was hanging out in my office, printing research for the Bloodgood Row investigation, and Josh hadn’t arrived yet. I hoped they could figure their relationship out before it was too late. They were good kids, if immature.

  “How is Bruce?” Helen asked me coyly.

  “I think he’s doing well. He’s in Biloxi this weekend, working at a paranormal conference at the university. He’s teaching his paranormal archaeology tactics to new students.”

  “Such an interesting concept. I’d be interested in participating in more of those…maybe I’ll call him.”

  “You should, Helen. He’d welcome your help.”

  “You have that on good authority?”

  “Let’s call it an informed guess.”

  She smiled at my answer. “Bloodgood Row is where we’re headed? Well, that place has quite a history! I’m surprised anyone would want to rebuild it. You know, the original buildings partially burned down in the 1950s. And back at the turn of the century, there was a serial killer who went after the women who worked in the Red House. That was a popular brothel…I think it was in the middle building. It was not the nicest ‘house of ill repute’ in the county, but whoever ran the place made a fortune because the men from the cotton mills loved to spend their money there. The Black Rose Saloon was next to the brothel, and between the two, Bloodgood Row was a happening place.”