by B L Maxwell
Ghost Trapped
Valley Ghosts Series Book 2
BL Maxwell
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by BL Maxwell
Copyright
GHOST TRAPPED
The Valley Ghosts Series, Book Two
Editing provided by: Pinny’s Proofreading
Proofreading provided by Anita Ford and Nicole Walker
Copyright © 2019 BL Maxwell
All Rights Reserved
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permissions from the author, except for using small quotes for book review quotations. All characters and storylines are the property of the author. The characters, events and places portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Trademarks:
This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks in not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Warning
Intended for a mature an 18+ audience only. This book contains material that may be offensive to some and is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations.
Dedicated to all the ghost hunters, and lovers of the paranormal. Happy Haunting.
Chapter One
Wade
“I guess it’s official, we’re in the ghost hunting business.” Jason smiled over at me as we drove away from the restaurant in Old Sacramento.
“So, do we get to have matching jackets? Maybe shirts?” I teased, then turned in time to see Jimbo roll his eyes.
“We need a name first, a really good name.” Jason rubbed his chin in thought.
“Oh boy,” Jimbo breathed out as he turned to look out the window.
“Basement Dwellers Ghost Hunting?” Jason suggested.
“Little long, don’t you think?” I commented, but he didn’t stop suggesting even more names that were no better than the first few.
“Unchain the Spirit.”
“Specter Squad.”
“Specter Detectors.”
“Mostly Ghostly.”
“Spooks R Us?”
He really had lost his mind, but that didn’t stop him.
“Spectrally Challenged, Haunt Helpers, Soul Chasers, Phantom . . . something.”
“My god!” Jimbo commented.
“Apparition Alleviation, Kelpie Keepers . . .”
“What the hell’s a kelpie?” I asked. “No matter what name we choose, we’re basically running scared as soon as shit happens—wait, that’s it! Running Scared Paranormal Research.” I slapped the steering wheel and nodded to punctuate that decision.
Jason and Jimbo both rolled their eyes in answer. “Yay, so it’s official, we’re Running Scared?” I said.
“Fine. But we won’t be running this time,” Jason said.
“Speak for yourself, Jason,” Jimbo added with a sniff.
“Dude, you do realize we had to drag you into The Vineyard House, and then one of us had to keep a hand on you at all times to make sure you didn’t run screaming into the night,” I reminded Jimbo as I met his narrow-eyed glare in the rearview mirror.
“Fine, whatever. Running Scared it is,” Jimbo snapped back.
“Fine,” I countered.
“So, do I get no say in this whatsoever?” Jason asked.
“No,” we both barked at him.
“I guess it works. It describes you two perfectly,” Jason said with a huge grin.
Jimbo rolled his eyes again, then muttered, “Whatever. But I’m not wearing a shirt that has Running Scared printed all over it.”
“Who says it would be ‘printed all over it’?” Jason asked, and settled back into his seat.
“Yeah, we just need a logo, nothing huge,” Jimbo added from the back seat.
“Just a logo? You two have lost your freaking minds.”
“We’ll see what your mom thinks.” Jason effectively ended the conversation with that statement. There was no way my mom wouldn’t absolutely love the idea, and knowing her, we’d have shirts, business cards, and pens printed up within twenty-four hours.
We had just finished our first official meeting with a client about a haunting in his business. Dean was the manager of The Hitching Post, a popular new restaurant in the Old Sacramento area. The whole time the business had been open he’d suspected they had a ghost, but so far it had been more mischievous contact than harmful—moving a glass or napkin to a different spot, hiding a fork, only to have it returned the next day to the exact spot. That kind of nonthreatening stuff.
It was only after one of the waitresses was trapped down in the lower level for hours and left terrorized by what she’d experienced that he decided he needed our help. He explained he’d seen a story about our adventures on the news and was desperate enough to find out exactly what he was dealing with, so decided to give us a call.
“Hey, Jimbo, what’s up with you and Dean, the manager?” I asked, looking back at him.
He stared straight ahead, not bothering to act like he’d even heard me talking to him.
“Jimbo? What the fuck?” Jason turned and looked at him. “Is there something you need to tell us, about how you know Dean Peterson?”
“I don’t need to tell anybody anything. It’s my own damn business.”
Jason stared hard at him for a full minute, before Jimbo squirmed a little then started to speak. “Fine, we may have been in culinary school at the same time.”
“No way, what was that, like, fifty years ago?” I asked, knowing full well it would get a reaction.
“Fuck you, Wade. It wasn’t that long ago,” he snapped back in his usual snarky way. “And that’s all you need to know.”
“Oh, so there’s some history there, huh?” I pressed, knowing it would piss him off.
He folded his arms and once again clammed up, looking out the window as we drove back home. “I wonder if Mom knows about your history with Dean?” I said as nonchalantly as I could, and held in a grin when I saw Jimbo’s gaze snap away from the window to stare a hole into the back of my head. He noticed I was watching him through the rearview mirror, and he huffed out a breath while doing his best to ignore me again.
I smiled over to Jason and put my hand on his leg. “So, do you think we can help Dean? No one seemed to be in a hurry to go down into the basement there.”
“I think so, we’ll need to do some research and find out what all those people are doing down there. Jimbo, would your sister help us if we need it?”
We’d found out that Jimbo and his sister were both powerful in their own right—Jimbo was a beacon, someone ghosts were drawn to, where his sister was a strong psychic, and able to communicate with the spirits in a way neither Jason or I could.
“I have no clue, you’ll need to ask her yourself,” he huffed, actually huffed.
I stopped at a light and turned to look at him straight on and laughed. “Jimbo, you make it so hard to take you seriously when you’re always in such a grouchy mood.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He squinted. “I’m always Mr. Personality, ask anyone. Your mom would be pretty pissed if she knew you were giving me shit.” He raised his chin to accent the line of crap he was trying to sell us.
“Just because my mom thinks you’re ‘adorable,’ doesn’t mean I agree. And you’re way nicer to her than you are to anyone else. Even Dean, who you lied to us about knowing.”
“Leave him alone, Wade,” Jason said as he patted my shoulder.
“Yeah, listen to your boyfriend,” Jimbo snapped at me, taking full advantage of the situation.
“You know your mom will get it out of him, and she won’t be able to keep it to herself. The things that woman has shared are truly embarrassing,” Jason said, and turned around to look right at Jimbo.
Jimbo tried to give him a dirty look but ended up looking horrified. “That woman has told me details about the two of you I’d rather forget,” he mumbled.
“Yep, that’s my mom. And just imagine what she’ll tell us after you tell her about Dean—and you know you’ll tell her. She should work for the government, that woman can make anyone talk,” I said.
“You have no idea,” Jimbo mumbled, again with a huff.
We pulled up to my house, and Mom was right out front, watering the plants as usual.
“Hey, Mom,” I called out as I closed the car door and walked toward her.
“Hey, baby, how’d it go? I want to hear all about it.” She turned off the water and rushed over to the front door. Jason and Jimbo followed us in, and we all took our usual seats in the living room.
“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” she said, waving her hands in anticipation.
“Oh, we thought of a name for the business. What do you think of Running Scared Paranormal Research?” Jason asked.
“Can we have shirts?” she asked immediately, sitting on the edge of her seat.
“Sure, whatever you want,” he answered.
“I thought we agreed no shirts,” Jimbo said.
Jason gave him a slow smile before he spoke. “You might want to ask Jimbo about who our new client is first,” he said, changing the subject and throwing Jimbo under the bus with one sentence.
My mom’s gaze locked on Jimbo and he squirmed a little. “Fuck you, Jason.”
“James, you know I don’t want to hear that language, now spill, who was the client?”
“His name is Dean Peterson, he’s the manager of The Hitching Post, and him and Jimbo have some super-secret past that he won’t tell us about,” Jason revealed as he threw Jimbo further under the proverbial bus.
Mom’s head snapped back around to face Jimbo, and she pinned him with a stare he visibly flinched away from.
“So, James, care to tell us the whole story?” she asked, voice as sweet as could be.
“Oh for the love of—fine! I met him when we were in culinary school. He was just starting out, and I was just beginning my last few courses. That’s it.”
“There’s nothing else you want to tell us?” Mom pushed, moving to sit next to Jimbo. She took his hand in hers, and he melted a little; he really had a soft spot for her.
“Well, we might have had a moment,” he said with a fond smile and a shake of his head.
“Come on, James, you know I want all the details.” She smiled at him then and leaned on his arm, and to my surprise, he smiled back at her. A rare occurrence for this professional grouch.
“We might have hooked up once or twice,” he said, his hand partially covering his mouth and muffling his words.
“What?” Jason jumped up. “Why didn’t you tell us that? I thought maybe you two worked together, or you had a bad time with him at culinary school. And why are you grinning, Wade?”
“This is gonna be so good,” I breathed out and tried to hide my excitement with a wide smile.
“I hate you all so much,” Jimbo grumbled, before smiling at Mom, who smiled back at him and looped her arm with his then rested her head on his shoulder.
“Okay, James, I want all the details, now.”
Chapter Two
Jason
We drove away from our meeting with Dean. Jimbo’s reaction to him was so bizarre, the man didn’t seem to like anyone, well, besides Wade’s mom. Yet there had to be something between him and Dean for him to react the way he did. It was amusing and weird, but not as weird as what had met us in the basement of The Hitching Post. As soon as we’d entered the dirt-floored space, I could feel all the spirits that were trapped there—all of them in pain, fearful, and wanting desperately to leave but not being able to.
They were trapped. Someone, or something, was keeping them there, and we’d need to figure out what that was before it would be safe for anyone to go into the basement of Dean’s business.
I tried to join in with Wade and Jimbo as they harassed each other, but I was so distracted by what I’d felt, I had a hard time concentrating.
Wade parked in front of his house, and we all sat in his living room, watching on as his mom interrogated Jimbo. She was an expert, as Wade and I both knew, and he cracked in no time at all, but all the while my mind kept wandering back to the basement.
“Hey, are you okay?” Wade asked, pulling me in closer to his side.
I hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I’m just thinking about what I sensed when we were in the basement. Did you feel it too? There were so many, I couldn’t separate them, there were just too many.”
“I felt it too—fear, panic, and confusion. I don’t think they understand why they’re trapped there. I don’t understand it either. They can’t all be from one flood or event, that’s not possible,” Wade said.
“I’m not sure, it doesn’t seem like they’d all choose to stay,” I said.
“What are you two talking about?” Wade’s mom asked.
“Sorry, I can’t get it out of my mind. There were so many spirits in that basement. Jimbo, could it be they were all attracted by you?” I asked.
He thought for a second before he answered. “I’ve spent years blocking that part of me. I keep my walls up all the time. I know for a fact, when we were in there, I was not open to attracting spirits. I kept myself hidden from them.”
“Do you think your sister would be willing to visit there? Maybe she can communicate with some of them, give us an idea what we’re getting into.” I hoped she’d be willing to help, this felt different to me. Of all the places we’d been to that had been haunted, none of them felt this suffocating.
“I’m not sure, she tries to stay in control, and if you’re right and there are a lot of spirits, it may overwhelm her.”
“That can happen?” I asked. I knew psychics were vulnerable to the powers some ghosts possessed, but I also knew his sister had said she had protections against it.
“With that many, I’m not sure. We’ll need to ask her if she’s interested or willing.”
“It’s so exciting to see you guys all working together. I feel like I’m living in a crime novel, or something crazy like that,” Mrs. Rivers said as she leaned on Jimbo. He didn’t even flinch anymore. He’d learned, like we all did, that it was easier to just go along with her.
“We’ll need to do more research on events that have happened in that area. We know there was a flood or two, which led to mass casualties, but I’m not sure about more than that.”
“Why don’t you boys go take the underground tour? My friend went on it and said it was very interesting, and she’s not eve
n interested in ghosts. There is quite a history in that area, apparently,” Mrs. Rivers said.
“I’m not going on a tour,” Jimbo snapped.
“Oh hush, James, it’ll be good for you, it’s educational,” she scolded.
“Great idea,” I said, and opened my phone to find out when the tours were scheduled. “It looks like they have a few tours daily, is everyone going?” I looked at them all. Jimbo rolled his eyes, Wade looked a little hesitant, and his mom looked at me with wide-eyed wonder before her hand shot up.
“I want to go,” she announced.
“You don’t have to raise your hand. I’ll go, you know I’m not letting you go without me,” Wade said as he reached for my hand. I smiled and leaned into him, before looking over to Jimbo.
“Fuck, I guess I’m not getting out of this one,” he grumbled. Mrs. Rivers smacked him on the arm, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I meant to say, I’d love to go.”
“Much better, James, now when are we going?” Mrs. Rivers asked.
“How about now?” I suggested, hoping they’d agree, and wouldn’t protest, as we’d just driven back from that area.
“Might as well get it over with,” Wade said, making me laugh.
“Might as well,” I said.
Chapter Three
Wade
