Ghost Handled (Valley Ghosts Series Book 3)

by BL Maxwell

  As we drove by, I noticed a swath of green behind the building. The perfectly kept lawn seemed out of place here in the business district.

  “That didn’t take long at all,” Dean said, as we pulled into a parking lot next to the building.

  “No, it didn’t. But I’m sure after being here all night it’ll be a longer trip going home,” Jimbo said, always the optimist.

  “Let’s go inside and see what they have to offer for food. Might be a good idea to eat here, so we can check it out on the sly,” Jason said, already in investigation mode.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m really curious about this place.”

  “The owner will be here already. He told me he was working today.” Jason shut the car door, and we all stood on the sidewalk waiting for Jimbo to get out so we could walk in together.

  “Do we need to bring anything in yet?” I asked.

  “No, let’s wait until we know where we’re setting up,” Jason said.

  We all walked toward the building, and the closer we got the bigger it seemed. Unlike the buildings in Old Sacramento that were built close together, this structure stood independently. The arch above the front door seemed a little out of place, but maybe it was added at a later date, or it was something unique to this building. Under the arch was an American eagle. This design I’d seen many times, and I wasn’t sure why it even stood out to me it was so common on older buildings.

  The door swung open as a group of people were leaving. “I got that,” Jason said as he held the door for them, and then for us.

  The restaurant and bar were both on the first level, and it was busy. A hostess seated us in a booth close to the bar and handed each of us a menu. We’d just opened them when a man with curly brown hair came walking over to us from behind the bar.

  “Evening, name’s Travis. I believe you all are here to see me?” Jason stood and shook his hand. He was dressed in a western shirt, Wrangler jeans with a huge silver buckle, and had a moustache that was wider than his face. He looked like a lot of farmers in the area did. He was probably closer to Jimbo’s age, and the flecks of silver in his hair, along with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, did not detract from how attractive he was.

  “Travis, I’m Jason, pleased to meet you. This is the rest of the team.” He introduced us all, and then Travis pulled a chair up to our table and sat down too.

  “I recognized the shirts. I’m so thankful to you for coming all the way here from Sacramento.” He gave us each an amused smile that was so friendly it put us all at ease. Even if he was giving us shit about our shirts.

  Jimbo grumbled something under his breath I ignored, but was probably about the Running Scared Paranormal shirts we all wore. Even Dean had his on. Which was a little weird; he normally wore a suit, or at least a jacket.

  “Yeah, my mom went a little crazy with the shirt idea,” I confessed, and felt my cheeks heat up.

  Jason patted my hand, and ignored all the talk about shirts.

  “So, Travis, fill us in about what’s been going on around here.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jason

  “I’m not sure how much you know about the building, but we’ve always had activity here. I’ve owned the building for around ten years, and there were always little things that let us know something was here. But the past few months everything changed. The upstairs is a dancefloor, with a few rooms for storage and private parties, so we’re not always up there. It started with a mirror that was leaning against a wall in one of the rooms that isn’t being used. We’ve used it to store extra chairs and tables. Some linens and dry goods. Well, one of the waiters went up there to get something, and when he turned to leave the room, that mirror fell on him. Now, I’m not talking about a small mirror. It must weigh at least three hundred pounds. Luckily it didn’t break. But he was pinned under it for a while until someone finally went looking for him.”

  “Did he say if he saw or heard anything while he was waiting?”

  “No, but he was terrified. The only thing on his mind was getting the hell out. He quit on the spot.”

  “I understand that feeling,” Jimbo said with a sniff and looked away from us all.

  “I looked into the history I could find online, and I know the upstairs was a brothel for years. It also said there were a few deaths here. A place that’s been here as long as this has, is sure to have had a few incidents that have made an indelible mark on it. Sometimes it’s not really a spirit, but more like a memory that’s on a loop. But other times there really is a spirit, and we’re the people that will help you find that out.”

  Travis leaned back in his chair and brushed his fingers down his moustache. “I sure hope so,” he said, with no heat in his words. “I felt awful when that young man was pinned under the mirror. And since then it just seems to keep happening. Just the other day, one of the customers set his empty beer glass on the bar and it exploded. And I’m not talking about a cracked glass. I’m talking about shards of glass flying all over the place. It was a miracle no one was injured.”

  “We’ve had experience with ghosts breaking glasses before, well, actually throwing them. It wasn’t pleasant.” Wade squeezed my leg at the mention of our adventures at The Vineyard House. Neither of us would ever forget anything that happened there.

  “Alright then, you boys order some dinner, and when you’re done, I’ll show you around the place. We’re usually closed by midnight, but I believe we can close around eleven instead tonight. I hope that helps.”

  “Yes, sir, it does,” Wade said. “We can start bringing in equipment whenever you want us to. It won’t take us long to set up.”

  “That sounds good, I’ll send one of the waiters over to take your order.” He didn’t wait for us to respond before he walked back over to the bar.

  We all huddled closer in the high-backed booth. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think we’re once again fucked,” Jimbo whispered, but it wasn’t actually low enough to be considered an actual whisper.

  “Aw, I think it sounds fun. As long as we stay out of the spirit’s way it won’t hurt us. Right, Jason?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raised in excitement, or curiosity, or maybe both.

  “It’s hard to say, if it’s a spirit with a vendetta we might be fucked.” I tipped my head at Jimbo.

  “We’ll just be cautious. I don’t feel anything with bad intent. But I’m afraid to open myself up more to hear if any of them have something to say. And, Jimbo, for the love of god, keep your beacon locked down tight,” Wade said.

  “You don’t need to tell me.”

  “Everybody know what you want to order?” The waiter effectively shut down our conversation as we placed our order and when they brought out our food, it was so good none of us mentioned ghosts until after we’d finished.

  “Jimbo, these guys could give you a run for your money. That was some tasty food,” I said, and patted my stomach.

  “Eh, it was okay,” he said as he leaned back in the booth.

  “James, you have got to be kidding me. You attacked that burger like it had personally offended you and you were hoping to show it who was boss,” Dean said as he finished the last of his fries.

  “Like I said, it was okay.” He rolled his eyes, and reached across to steal a fry, as Dean slapped his hand.

  I looked at Wade and smiled when he squeezed my leg. Yep just another night.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wade

  The need to reach out and feel for spirits was so strong it was hard to ignore. But I knew if I did, they’d feel it and they’d want to get my attention. Jason was wound so tight he looked like he was ready to explode, but it was obvious he was keeping his curiosity tapped down too. During our meal, I’d glanced around the bar area numerous times and so far, I hadn’t seen anything.

  The bar itself was massive, a product of the 1800s, and had probably witnessed far too much violence and greed through the years. Movement to the right drew my eye, and fo
r a second, I thought I’d seen something, but then a waiter came walking out from the kitchen area. I took a moment to visualize the barrier I’d placed around myself and made sure it was strong enough to withstand any attacks from the veil. Jason took my hand and I felt my inner strength kick up a notch with his touch.

  “Did you see something?” Jason leaned in and asked.

  “No, I thought I did but it was just someone walking out of the kitchen. I haven’t felt any spirits here so far. But we both know they’re good at hiding when they want to.”

  “We’ll know soon enough if any of them are here. Jimbo, you keep a lockdown on your beacon. We don’t need to bring more spirits here if there’re any others in this area.”

  “Fuck you, Jason, you know I don’t ever open myself up to that shit.”

  Dean smiled and rubbed his bicep.

  “Have you seen Emma?”

  “No, not since we left The Hitching Post. I know she said she’d be there if we needed help, and hopefully she does turn up if we need her.” Emma was a young ghost that had attached to us from The Vineyard House. We didn’t know she was with us until we were in danger on a job. She had helped us in ways I’d always be thankful to her for. But I hoped her help wasn’t needed again anytime soon.

  “Well, no news is good news. If she’s not around then we must not be in trouble,” Jimbo added.

  “She wouldn’t just desert us. But maybe she chose to move on, and in that case, I’m happy for her.”

  “I hope you’re right. I wouldn’t want her staying here just in case we need help.”

  “I’m okay with her being around if we need it. She really helped at Dean’s place,” Jimbo mumbled.

  “Look at the bar, it has to have seen so much through the years,” I said, and everyone looked in that direction.

  “So, Jason, what did you find out about the history of this place?”

  “Well, I didn’t find any actual accounts of a haunting. Mostly people felt uncomfortable when upstairs, or even down here if they’re the only one working. There’re rumors of a murder here when it was still a brothel, but mostly a lot of hearsay.”

  “Let’s hope we can help, maybe it just needs a cleansing. Did Travis mention if he’d tried that yet?”

  “No, I don’t get the feeling he puts much faith in any of that. He’s a very reluctant believer. So maybe there is something here. If we don’t find anything, we’ll do a thorough cleansing and hopefully it leaves him feeling a little more at ease,” Jason said, and once again looked around. “I packed everything we need for a cleansing just in case.”

  “You always think of everything. I should have trusted you when you had it all packed. It just seemed like so much to bring for one night.”

  “You were right. I had way over-packed. I think I’m too used to doing the bigger jobs, and I need to learn to adjust for the smaller ones.”

  “Babe, we’re still going to be taking bigger jobs. This is just something fun, remember? I don’t want you to think we’re going to be doing this regularly. It’s easier to do a thorough investigation when we’re there for a few days. Don’t worry, we’ll be committing to more. Not like there’s any shortage of hauntings in the Sacramento area.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Dean ignored the snark, put his arm around Jimbo and hugged him close. I hated to admit how cute they were. As though he knew what I was thinking, Jimbo’s eyes met mine, and for once he let his mask slip and all I saw was happiness. Who would have thought hunting ghosts would help us both find love.

  Not me that’s for damn sure. “So, anyone want dessert?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jason

  We moved to the bar as the place slowly cleared out after people finished their meals and a few drinks. Travis was still working the bar, and running around helping anyone who looked like they needed it. He stopped in front of us and wiped off the bar as he spoke.

  “You guys are welcome to bring in your equipment and start setting up. I’ve made sure there’s room up there for you to set up wherever you think is best. There’re a few rooms with desks, and—why don’t I just take you on up there so you can see for yourself?”

  “That sounds great,” I said, as we all stood.

  “This bar was built in the 1800s, around the same time as Sacramento was built. Marysville was the last stop for the steamers that would come up the river from San Francisco. Many came here looking for work, and something to do other than look for gold.” He walked up the stairs, and at the top he turned and leaned on the railing. “For years, this was a brothel. The girls that worked here also lived here. Now, there’s a rumor that one or two of them died here. But I’ve never been able to find actual proof of that.”

  “So, have you seen or heard anything that makes you think the place is haunted?”

  His eyes met mine and he gave me such an intense look it was hard to hold his gaze, but somehow, I knew if I turned away, he’d never trust us.

  “I’m usually the last one here. Occasionally I’ve let other staff close up, but for the most part I like to take care of that myself. I was here after everyone had left, and realized I needed to bring down some towels for the dayshift. When I got to the top of the stairs, I could tell something wasn’t right. There was a heaviness to the air that had nothing to do with it being hot up there. I tried to ignore it and went directly to the closet we store the linens in. As I was standing there holding a stack of towels, I heard someone call my name. I thought maybe one of the staff had forgotten something and come back. When I called out no one answered, so I gathered up what I’d come up for and turned to walk downstairs.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Son, you need to realize, I’m not some crackpot that believes everything someone says is true. I need to see it for myself. And even then, I’m what you’d call a skeptic. But when I turned around, all that changed. A woman was standing across the room from me. She wasn’t see-through or a mist. She looked as solid as you or I.”

  “We’ve experienced that too, it takes a powerful spirit to appear like that,” Wade said.

  “I don’t know anything about that, but I know what I saw. She stood there for a moment, and neither of us moved. But I knew she was aware of me—her eyes were locked on mine. My mind kept trying to rationalize what I was seeing. She was dressed in white bloomers and a corset, with long dark hair pulled up on top of her head. It was so surreal, she reminded me of every western I’ve ever seen, except she was really from that time. Or she seemed to be.”

  “Did she try to talk to you?”

  “No, she didn’t say a word. She walked toward me then vanished. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. I left right after it happened. It really rattled my nerves, but then I remembered the cameras.”

  “You captured it on video?” I hoped this was true. I would never tire of seeing a ghost captured for everyone to see.

  He smiled slightly and nodded. “I did. At first, I was afraid of what I might see, but then I thought maybe it wouldn’t show up. But the cameras recorded exactly what I experienced, and once I knew that, I went through more video footage. She’s not the only ghost here. There’re several. Some of them don’t show themselves, they shove barstools, knock over glasses . . . there’s one that blows on the back of your neck. I have video clips of them all. Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  This assignment just got a whole lot more interesting, and possibly a lot more complicated.

  “What would you like us to do? We can cleanse the place, and usually that helps them move on and keeps them out if they’re not willing to leave. Or we can leave them alone, and teach you some ways to control them. But I will warn you, if they’re not being violent or causing harm to anyone, we recommend leaving them alone.”

  “I’m inclined to do just that. The only problem is, for some reason they’ve started being more active while people are here. We’ve had a few incidents of them breaking glasses, and shoving
stools out from under customers. I can’t have that. If someone is injured, I’m responsible. And while I don’t particularly mind the ghost or ghosts, I cannot have them harming my employees or customers.”

  “I understand. Wade, what do you think?” I knew he could open up and feel what the ghosts were putting out there. But we’d decided it was best not to tell clients about our talents unless we needed to.

  “I’d rather wait and see what we’re dealing with. Can we see the videos?” he asked Travis.

  “Of course, right this way.” He led us to a room in the back that held several monitors and was obviously the control center of the place. “I’ve got it cued up and ready to go.”

  He pushed play and I hoped this place wasn’t more serious than we’d originally thought. But either way, we’d know by morning.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wade

  We gathered around a large monitor in a room that reminded me a lot of The Vineyard House. It had probably been a hotel room at one time, or maybe a bedroom. The video started with the woman Travis had told us about. It was exactly as he had described.

  “Have you seen her around here since then?”

  “I haven’t, but I’ve heard my name called a few times. I’ve ignored it hoping I wasn’t giving it any power by paying attention.”

  “You were right to do that. The more you build up those barriers around yourself, the harder it is for spirits to contact you. Once they know you’re listening it’s harder to make them stop contacting you.”

  “I didn’t know that. I just didn’t want it to keep contacting me. I figured ignoring it was a safe bet.”