Ghosts Gone Wild: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 2)

by Danielle Garrett

  Returning my gaze to her pinched face, I drew in a slow breath and dropped my arms. “Honestly? I thought maybe being around other ghosts would prove helpful to you as you adjust to your new life.”

  “Life? Ha!” Kimberly surged up, moving higher and higher until her head nearly reached the ceiling. “This isn’t living! All of you need to wake up!”

  A wave of whispers swept through the room but no one looked angered. Instead, the faces cast up at Kimberly were filled with pity and a sad, shared understanding. I hadn’t known any of the ghosts in the room long enough to have witnessed their transition. Kimberly was my first kinder-ghost in quite some time.

  I’d forgotten how exhausting the beginning was.

  “Kimberly, please try to understand,” I started, raising a hand to beckon her back down. “This is your new life. You can choose to accept it and make the best of it, or you can reject it and spend years, even decades, wandering the earth growing more and more bitter with each passing day. There’s only one way out and it isn’t through your physical body.”

  Kimberly’s eyes narrowed. “What is it then?”

  Normally I kept talk of crossing over reserved for after a new ghost was at least a few weeks old because being dead was a lot to process without unpacking their entire history to figure out what blocked them from doing so at the time of their death. But, as in life, Kimberly was a special case and would require a different approach.

  “There’s another realm beyond this one. Some call it the Otherworld. The afterlife. Religious people refer to it as Heaven, eternity, etcetera.”

  Kimberly slowly drifted back down to the floor, like a Mylar balloon losing its last bit of helium.

  “Now, I can’t tell you how to get there, because it’s different for everyone. What I can tell you is that there is probably something holding you back. Something gnawing at you. You won’t find that true peace until you confront it.”

  “Oh ho! I already know exactly what it is,” Kimberly raged, her eyes blazing again. Only this time they weren’t directed at me. “This is about Casper!”

  Gwen and I exchanged a troubled glance. “Your fiancé?” she ventured.

  Kimberly gave a decisive nod. “We had a big fight the night that I … died.” She swallowed hard and the fire in her eyes dulled. “Maybe the universe, or whoever is in charge of this whole ghost thing, wants me to have a chance to resolve things.”

  “That sounds promising,” I replied, adding an encouraging smile. “We can discuss that after—”

  “Or, maybe I’m supposed to haunt him! Can I do that?”

  “Ugh. No!”

  It was going to be a long night.

  The meeting came to a quick conclusion after Kimberly’s eventual exit. She left in search of Casper not too long after coming up with the idea to haunt him. I probably should have tried to stop her, but it was pointless. If I’d learned anything about her during our one-sided pre-mortem collaboration, it was that she was an immovable rock. Once she made her mind up, that is.

  In any case, without her theatrics and outbursts, we were able to conduct our remaining business in a timely manner. The only problem was that by the time the last ghost floated from the shop, I still had no idea where Myra was or what might have happened to her.

  Gwen lingered after the other ghosts left. I tried to console her, promising that it was the beginning rather than the end of our search for Myra, but she didn’t look convinced. Nevertheless, she followed me upstairs, where we found Lucas in the kitchen. He informed me that the fries were in the oven, keeping warm. I smiled as he pulled them out and tipped them onto a plate.

  “Is there anything sexier than a man in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up?” Gwen quipped, giving Lucas a look that would have made me want to claw her eyes out if she were still among the living.

  Instead, I snorted and Lucas flashed a lopsided grin. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” I smiled. “Thanks for keeping dinner warm. The meetings usually don’t take that long.”

  “Trouble in the ghostieverse?”

  “Always.”

  Gwen sighed. “I suppose I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

  I raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised that I wouldn’t have to bribe her into leaving.

  “I’ll keep looking for Myra,” she said, a troubled look crossing her permanently young face.

  I gave her a nod when Lucas turned away and she waved before slipping through the living room wall.

  “You want a beer? You have a killer selection in here,” Lucas asked, gesturing for me to take a seat. “I can’t remember the last time I met a woman with better taste in lagers than me!”

  “Sexist much?” I teased.

  Lucas laughed. “I’m trying to give you a compliment. Could you just roll with it for once?”

  “All right, all right. Surprise me.” I twisted in my seat and watched him retrieve a pair of bottles from the fridge. I had to admit, it was nice to have someone around to take care of me. I was rarely alone, what with every ghost in a ten-mile radius always on the verge of breaking and entering to ask for advice. To be honest, though, I spent way too much time in the spirit world. Besides my regular customers and vendors, I didn’t know many living people in town. Holly Boldt, a powerful witch, lived across town in the Beechwood Manor with a pack of paranormal pals, and while I was familiar with all of them, we didn’t spend much time together outside my frequent visits to Siren’s Song, the coffee shop where she worked part time as a barista.

  Lucas cracked open the bottles and sat down opposite me at the round table. “So, tell me—what are these meetings like? I was tempted to stay and watch you in action.”

  I smiled and reached for a fry. “You sure you haven’t had your fill of ghost tales?”

  “I don’t think we’re in any danger of that. Kind of goes with the territory now that I’m a part of your life.”

  His tone was a casual statement of fact, but had a powerful impact on me as we looked at each other across the table. After a moment, I ducked my chin and considered the sandwich on my plate. “Well then, let’s see. Tonight I had Dr. Barnes’s ex drop by to tell me that she was ready to strike a new deal. Apparently he tried to have her exorcised, but it didn’t quite do the trick.”

  Lucas chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind going back to Dr. Barnes’s place. Maybe I could score an invite to the next Monday-night-football get-together. What do you think?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I might like beer, but you’ll never catch me at a football game.”

  He laughed a little louder and held up a hand. “Fair enough. But then I reserve the right to put it out there that I’m not getting dragged off to any kind of musical. If anything is 80 percent music and dancing, it’s a no-go in my book.”

  “Deal.” I giggled. “For a world traveler, you sure have a strong aversion to the arts. Isn’t that half the fun?”

  “I’d rather be climbing up a mountain or jumping off one. Now that’s really art, if you ask me.”

  “Uncultured swine,” I teased, popping another fry into my mouth.

  “Oh, and the food.” Lucas grinned. “That’s well over half the appeal.”

  “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten while abroad?”

  Without flinching, he replied, “Fire-roasted tarantulas.”

  “You’re kidding?” I leaned back, nose wrinkled. “We are never kissing again. That, my good sir, is simply too far!”

  Lucas roared with laughter. “I’ve gargled a lot of mouth wash since then, if that helps.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  He reached for my hand, his eyes sparking with mischief. “We’ll see about that.”

  Heat surged through me and I coughed to clear my throat. I might not be in danger of roasted spider remnants, but there was a good chance I was in danger of falling for Lucas Greene.

  After dinner, Lucas took me for a quick drive to a small town a few miles up the coas
t. He’d visited it on his initial visit to Beechwood Harbor and wanted to take me to a small gelato shop that he swore was as close to the stuff he’d had in Rome as anything he’d had since. We ordered two overflowing cups of the decadent dessert and wandered up the coast, enjoying the sun setting over the Pacific.

  “My first few months here were a little rough, at least when it came to the weather,” I told him as we walked. “But I have to admit, this view is more than worth it.”

  He looped his free arm around my waist and I leaned into him. A few stragglers remained on the beach, but were far enough away that it felt like we had the whole thing to ourselves. The tide was going out, leaving a glittering sheen on the sand where the last rays of sunlight bounced off the water. “I’ve missed it too.”

  “Have you decided how long you’re going to stay?” I asked before polishing off the last remaining bite of my creamy treat.

  Lucas had purchased a one-way ticket out to Washington after he’d made a brief pit-stop at his crash-pad apartment in Los Angeles. He said he’d make up his mind once he got out here. At the time, I’d wondered if that was in order to give himself an easy out in case things fizzled between us. We’d kept in contact over the two months since his departure, but I think we both had some doubts that we’d be able to pick up where we’d left off.

  Unnecessary worries, apparently, at least judging by the last few days.

  “Depends,” he replied in a maddeningly vague way. He took my empty gelato cup and nestled it with his own. “I know you’re really busy with work this summer, what with the weddings and all that. I don’t want to get in your way.”

  My heart sank. Was that his way of brushing me off? Was he looking for a loophole to escape through?

  I folded my arms over my stomach and wished I’d thought to bring a lightweight sweater. It had reached the mid-seventies earlier in the day, but with the sun nearly gone, the temperature had dropped rapidly.

  Lucas carried the trash as we wandered back up toward the small lot where he’d parked the car. The silence was overwhelming. I itched to break it, but had no idea what to say. As much as I wanted him to stay, I wasn’t going to beg.

  “Weddings and sorting Kimberly out,” I finally said, just to say something. “New ghosts are always major time sucks. There’s also a local ghost who has apparently gone missing. No one knows where she went.”

  “Sounds like you’re playing some kind of ghost Whack-A-Mole,” Lucas teased.

  I smiled but there was a painful truth to his statement. “Welcome to my world.”

  We stopped at the top of the slight hill. Lucas went to deposit the trash in a receptacle while I brushed off the soles of my feet and slipped them back into my ballet flats.

  “Ready to head back?” Lucas asked as he started for the car.

  My heart sank a little lower but I slapped on a smile and nodded. “Sure. Thanks for the treat. You were right: just as good as the authentic stuff.”

  We drove back to Beechwood Harbor and Lucas dropped me off at my apartment. He followed me up, seeing me safely home as he put it, but didn’t make an effort to stay.

  My tortured brain replayed the conversations of the evening but couldn’t figure out where things had gotten off track. In less than three hours, I’d gone from feeling like I was slipping head over heels, to wondering if maybe I’d been better off avoiding the whole dating thing completely. Eventually, I managed to shift my thoughts to Kimberly, Myra, and Ruth, but found no clarity there either. I tossed and turned all the more, until I somehow managed to fall asleep in a jumbled pile of frayed nerves, promising myself a fresh shot at all of it in the morning.

  Chapter 10

  “Scarlet? Scarlet, are you awake?”

  The soothing voice pulled me from a dream-riddled sleep and I slowly came to consciousness. I opened my eyes and found Gwen hovering nearly horizontally over the top of me. I jolted and she swooped away. “Sorry!” she cried, settling on the other side of the room. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

  I sat up and reached for my phone. Squinting, I tapped the screen, and the time flashed at me in bright LED lights. “Gwen, it’s four in the morning. What are you even doing in my bedroom?”

  I dropped the phone back onto the bedside table and rubbed my eyes to clear the blurriness.

  “I know that I’m not supposed to be here, but Scarlet, something is wrong. Another ghost has gone missing!”

  That brought me wide awake. “What?”

  “After the meeting tonight, I made plans to catch up with … well, with Quinton,” Gwen said, starting to pace back and forth. She wrung her hands and a small line had appeared between her brows. “We were supposed to meet at the park. I got there right on time and I waited, and waited. He never showed. I went to the house he haunts—you know that craftsman on Earl Lane? His roommate, Sturgeon, told me that he hadn’t seen him all day!”

  I sighed. “Gwen, you’re getting all worked up and it could be for nothing. This is very thin, circumstantial evidence. Maybe he got busy?”

  Gwen pivoted and planted her hands on her hips. Her gaze sharpened as she stared at me. “No one has seen him, Scarlet! I’ve gone all over town since leaving there and he’s just gone! He wouldn’t have just skipped out on me like that. Also, I asked Sturgeon and he said that Quinton has been having those strange dreams too, just like M&M. He never mentioned it to me, but then again, we usually end up … distracted. He’s close with Sturgeon, so I believe him.”

  I held out both hands. “Okay, okay. Calm down. We’ll figure this out, okay? Like I said before, ghosts can’t just disappear. I mean, unless they were exorcised, but—”

  “Scarlet!”

  Oops.

  “Gwen, please try to calm down. No one is running around exorcising stray ghosts, okay?”

  “Well then where are they?” Gwen’s tone was encroaching upon hysteria.

  “I don’t know!” I replied, a little gruffer than intended. “All I do know is that I’m not going to be able to do anything about it right this instant. I can’t go roaming the streets at four in the morning, calling out for people who’ve been dead for the better part of the last decade, all right?”

  Gwen looked hurt, giving a stiff lip as she nodded. “You’re right, of course. I guess—I guess I panicked. It’s not every day that my friends start going missing.”

  “Gwen, I—”

  It was too late—the rest of my protest was swallowed up in a soft pop as she vanished from the room.

  I groaned to myself and burrowed back under the covers.

  After Gwen’s pre-dawn wake-up call, I found myself dragging through my morning routine after my alarm went off a few hours later. Luckily, it was Sunday and the shop was closed, but thanks to the last-minute funeral, I was running behind on other orders and needed to clock in a few hours of work without the distraction of phone calls and walk-in customers. But first … coffee. I hurried to get dressed and then made my way across town to Siren’s Song to join the throngs of people in search of their own morning kick-start. The line snaked around a center display filled with branded merchandise, and I shuffled into place behind a couple of older women who were discussing the outrageous price hikes at Thistle, the local market.

  “Can you even believe what they’re asking for a pound of tomatoes? Back in the old days, you could plant a full acre of tomatoes for the price of a five-pound bag!”

  “Oh, I agree! It’s simply outrageous! How am I supposed to make my homemade marinara with prices like that?”

  By the time I reached the cash register to place my order, I was even more desperate for a coffee. A big one.

  To my relief, Holly was working the opening shift and offered a bright smile as she took my order. “Coming right up.”

  “Thanks, Holly. You’re a lifesaver. Though I’m not sure if you’re saving mine or someone else’s,” I added, shooting a look at the two women who had apparently moved on to discussing their hairdos, if their gesturing was any indication. W
onder if the hairdresser was charging too much too? The horror. How Gwen sat and listened to them all day was beyond me.

  Holly rang me up and then relayed the order to Siren’s Song’s manager, Cassie Frank, who was working the espresso machine.

  Within a few moments, I had my latte and a blueberry scone, and decided to take one of the few remaining tables to enjoy my breakfast treat. Knowing Gwen, she’d eventually circle back to ask for—or provide—an update on the missing-ghost situation, and I still didn’t have any ideas for her.

  Holly wandered through the dining room a few minutes after I sat down. She held a carafe of coffee and was offering free refills to the patrons who were getting their daily caffeine dose straight up. She stopped by my table, her carafe nearly empty. “How’s business going?” she asked with a friendly smile. For a moment, I wondered which business she meant. There was my flower business, but then Holly also knew of my frequent side projects. They didn't really equate to a full-fledged business, but certainly kept me busy enough to be considered one.

  “It’s picked up quite a bit, actually. Especially since the Lilac B&B opened its doors.”

  “I’ll bet!” Holly tucked a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. “I was over there the other day to drop off a catering order for some conference, and saw your flowers at the front desk. Very pretty.”

  “Thank you.” I sipped my latte. “What about you? It seems like this place is always jam-packed.”

  She laughed softly. “It’s that time of year. The tourists come out and it feels like we don’t get a spare moment for three months solid.”

  I glanced around the dining room. It was full, but everyone was engrossed in their own morning routines. Most people had newspapers, tablets, phones, and laptops in front of them. I decided it was safe and looked back up at Holly. “I actually had something that I wanted to ask you about.”