Ghost Mysteries & Sassy Witches (Cozy Mystery Multi-Novel Anthology)

by Неизвестный

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. We were the ones who screwed up. Mostly me.”

  “You did have a nose for trouble.”

  The panel was blank for a moment, then Eli continued reading the next string of letters, which was just one word: “Dad?”

  The reply came hesitantly. “Yes? You can tell me anything, Donny. I love you no matter what.”

  “Dad, I’m not going to come home.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Something happened. It happened a long time ago, and that’s why I never returned your calls or answered your letters.”

  “I understand,” Mr. Quentin said. Softly, as an aside to Eli, he said, “What people say is true. Not knowing is the worst part.”

  “You have to stop waiting for me,” Donny said, through Eli’s mouth.

  “A father can never give up.”

  “Dad?” He sounded so young.

  “Yes?” He sounded so sad.

  “I am truly sorry for all the times I let you down, all the times I disappointed you.”

  “I’m not sorry at all, son. You weren’t always perfect, but whenever you did wrong, you knew it. You felt it, and you learned. That was how you learned to be a man.” His head nodded down, and he clutched the edge of the doorway for balance. “I know sometimes I was quick to anger, but no matter what you felt or thought you saw, I was never disappointed in you. You were only learning. Every day, I loved you more.”

  “I have to go, Dad.”

  “You’re not coming back?”

  “Please go. Move in with Danica and her family. You won’t be a burden, I promise. They need you as much as you need them.”

  “I don’t want to be any fuss.”

  “Dad, if you don’t go, I’ll make you go.”

  The light overhead, the one that had been burned out, crackled noisily and flashed the room in light before sizzling back off.

  “I guess that settles it,” Mr. Quentin said with a sigh.

  They were in darkness again.

  Donny stopped speaking, and crossed the room to the doorway.

  Eli crossed the room, somewhere else, toward his own father.

  I’m sorry I disappointed you.

  The son reached the father, and was swept into his arms.

  I was never disappointed in you. You were only learning. Every day, I loved you more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eli slept well that night, on Mr. Quentin’s well-worn sofa in the front room of the farmhouse.

  By the time they’d finished talking, it was well past Eli’s bedtime, and he’d already started to nod off just sitting on the sofa. Before he could put up too much fuss, he already had a fresh pillow laid out for his head, and a soft quilt pulled over him.

  Eli dreamed of a snowy white cat that glowed from within. He knew that wherever his father was, he was at peace.

  Eli finally understood the look he’d seen in his father’s eyes that night at the police station. It wasn’t disappointment or anger. It was just growing pains.

  In the morning, Eli awoke to the scent of fresh coffee brewing.

  He found Mr. Quentin in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Eli watched, fascinated, as the man cracked eggs and scrambled them by touch alone.

  “How do you know when they’re cooked?” he asked.

  Mr. Quentin smiled. “The texture, and the smell changes.” He served up the eggs with toast. “I haven’t made eggs in a long time, Eli. Most mornings, I don’t have any appetite. I usually force some cereal down around lunch time. Today is different. I’m hungry.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Eli took a sip of the coffee. He didn’t normally drink the stuff, but he didn’t want to be rude to his host. It tasted about how he expected. “Have you given any more thought to moving in with your daughter? I could give you a ride to the bus station, or the airport.”

  “Sure.”

  Eli munched on the toast, ignoring the fleck of green mold at the edge. He’d eaten mold before, and it hadn’t killed him.

  “I’ll leave you my phone number,” Eli said.

  “Sure.” Mr. Quentin consumed his breakfast in huge, ravenous bites. The food seemed to already be putting color in his cheeks.

  “Of course I don’t know how to poke all those braille dots,” Eli said lightheartedly. “I’d hate to think I was writing my phone number and it turns out to be a swear word or something.”

  Mr. Quentin laughed—a beautiful sound that filled the kitchen with life. When he stopped laughing, he wiped a tear from the edge of his eye.

  “Actually, if you don’t mind helping me put a suitcase together, I’ll leave with you today.”

  “Today? Sure. I guess so.” Eli felt the enormous weight of someone taking his suggestion seriously. He breathed deeply as it settled on his shoulders.

  He’d always wanted to help people, to make a difference in their lives. In high school, he’d had long talks with the career counselor about the path he might take in life.

  What Eli didn’t realize at the time was that being able to lie was a requirement for almost any career, and not just the ones with a bad reputation. He knew he couldn’t be a politician. That one was obvious. But it turned out many interesting careers that seemed honest enough also depended heavily on the ability to at least tell white lies, or exaggerate.

  Eli briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a psychologist, like his father, but his short stint as a peer counselor at the high school put a bullet in that dream.

  A cute girl named Heidi came to see him about some homework problems and time management issues. He’d been reading the DSM the night before, and diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder on the spot. To her face.

  “That’s all I need,” she howled through her tears as she stormed out of the office.

  Eli regarded this as a therapeutic breakthrough. For a moment, he imagined an illustrious career ahead of him, as the tough-love psychologist who didn’t pull any punches. He’d be rich, maybe famous. He could license his life story for a TV series.

  Then Heidi’s parents contacted the school. Eli found out people didn’t want to be told what was wrong with them.

  “Psychiatry is a lie,” he angrily told the career counselor. “What is the value of the truth if nobody wants it?”

  The woman didn’t argue with him. “How do you feel about plumbing?”

  “What else is there?”

  She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the computer screen between them. “Surgeon?”

  The scar on Eli’s head began to itch.

  “No,” he said glumly.

  The woman shrugged. “Take some first-year classes, since your father’s got your tuition saved up. You’ll figure something out.” She put on a smile, looked him straight in the eye, and lied to him. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do when they begin college, but everything falls into place. You’ll see.”

  Eli left the career office that day with his head hung low. He could never be a career counselor, or a mortgage advisor, or a real estate agent. He could never tell people everything was going to be okay, because everything was not okay, and it never would be.

  “Orange juice?”

  Eli was startled out of his thoughts by Mr. Quentin offering him orange juice.

  He accepted the offer, and watched as the man poured him a glass, using one fingertip inside the glass to tell when it was full.

  Sunshine filled the kitchen.

  Happiness filled Eli’s heart.

  Maybe things weren’t okay, but life went on. The man across from him couldn’t see with his eyes, but he saw with his heart, and his fingertips.

  People lied to each other. Every day.

  But more often than not, they did it out of kindness, out of love.

  If everyone just agreed to pretend that everything was fine, maybe that created a new truth.

  Eli wanted to live in that new world.

  They finished breakfast and washed the dishes, even though Mr. Quen
tin wasn’t planning to come back. Eli wrote a note for the housekeeper, asking her to take away whatever food she wanted and throw out the rest.

  They located two suitcases, the buckles and zippers stiff from disuse. Eli packed the clothes while Mr. Quentin spoke to his daughter on the phone, making arrangements. The plane would leave that afternoon.

  Eli couldn’t hear the exact words she was saying, but she sounded overjoyed.

  After the packing was done, Eli led Mr. Quentin to the van, loaded up his suitcases, and drove him all the way to the airport.

  When they reached the terminal, Mr. Quentin insisted he could make the rest of the journey himself, but Eli wouldn’t hear of it.

  They checked the suitcases and did some shopping. With Eli’s assistance, Mr. Quentin purchased some stuffed animals to bring his grandchildren.

  When it was finally time for the two to part ways, Eli wanted to say he had dust in his eyes, but he couldn’t, so he only said goodbye.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Instead of returning to his apartment, Eli drove from the airport to the Ghost Hackers storefront. He rehearsed what he would say.

  Hello, Khan and Valentine. I have some information to add to Mr. Quentin’s file as an addendum.

  An addendum.

  Was that the right word? He didn’t know.

  To his disappointment, the door was locked and the interior was completely dark. There were no hours posted on the door, but it made sense they’d be closed on a Sunday.

  Eli turned to walk back to the van, but stopped when a black cat ran across his path and darted off down the street. He did a double-take. The cat turned into a puff of smoke and dissipated.

  Eli stared down the street, and thoughts of the diner came to mind. He was hungry for dinner, and he was almost certain he’d find Khan and Valentine there.

  He walked down the street, into the diner, and went straight to the booth where they were seated.

  They glanced up briefly, then turned their attention back to the papers on the table. Neither seemed surprised to see him there.

  Khan slid over on the red vinyl booth and patted the seat next to him.

  Eli took a seat. His grin was so wide, his face hurt. He was too excited to correctly say the line he had rehearsed.

  “Addendum,” he blurted out.

  Valentine smiled up at him, her pale green eyes crinkling at the edges with mirth. “Is that so?”

  Eli realized he was staring at Valentine, so he forced himself to turn and look at her brother. Khan was not nearly as interesting to look at, but his spiky bleached-white hair was intriguing. There was no tell-tale margin of brassy orange between the white and the dark roots. The hairs seemed to go from dark brown at the scalp, to gray, and then to white, as though the pigment faded to nothing when exposed to light.

  “How is Mr. Quentin?” Khan asked.

  “Gone,” Eli said.

  Khan winced and said gently, “He was kinda old.” He patted Eli on the shoulder. “There, there. Sometimes they slip away, but it’s to a better place, as long as it’s not a steel box.”

  “No, I mean he’s gone to the airport, to live with his daughter.” Eli licked his lips, drawing out the suspense. “He had a son. That’s what he didn’t tell us the first time around. And that’s why he wouldn’t leave the house. He was waiting for his son to come home.”

  Khan and Valentine exchanged a look.

  Valentine asked gently, “Did his son come home?”

  “Yes.” Eli nodded, beaming. “Well, he just popped in for a minute. I guess the microwave was possessed after all. Anyway, it was all very dramatic, and I was terrified, and then I wasn’t. The son just wanted to have a few last words. That was all.”

  Valentine’s eyebrows raised higher and higher, and her gaze darted between Eli and Khan.

  She leaned forward and whispered, “Eli, did the spirit take possession of your body?”

  A chill ran up Eli’s back. He shrugged it off. “I think so, but only for a minute. Mr. Quentin and I hugged. We had a moment. It was nice.”

  Khan snorted. “Nice.” He put both of his hands on Eli’s nearest shoulder and shoved him out of the booth. “There’s nothing nice about possession. We need to get you into the decontamination shower.”

  Eli staggered to his feet. “The what?”

  Khan said gravely, “We need to get you decontaminated like the devil eats cookies!”

  “The devil… what?”

  Khan shook his head. “The devil eats cookies fast, Eli. Fast.”

  Valentine jumped to her feet and started herding him toward the exit while Khan gathered their files and threw some folded bills on the table.

  As the three walked hurriedly back to the Ghost Hackers storefront, Eli began to feel unwell.

  He’d been contaminated.

  No wonder he’d felt so different all day. He was still possessed, and now Donny was inside his body, making himself at home, and rifling around in places he shouldn’t be.

  Eli fought the urge to retch. All of his insides felt wrong, and something terrible was happening to his consciousness. He was being pushed out, like those nights Brenda kicked him in her sleep and stole the bedcovers, sending him to the couch. Soon his body would no longer be his body.

  Bile came up the back of his throat. He coughed it up into his mouth. Taste that, Donny. This is what you get for trying to steal my body.

  The three of them rushed in through the door, and Eli charged back into the darkness, demanding to know where the decontamination shower was. He tripped over a chair and fell forward, catching the chair’s back in the solar plexus.

  Coughing up more bile, he wrestled with the chair in the dark until Khan and Valentine each grabbed him by one arm and helped him up.

  “Stay calm,” Valentine ordered.

  “Think happy thoughts,” Khan barked.

  “Happy thoughts,” Eli repeated.

  They dragged him into a dark room that echoed like it was covered in tiles.

  “Close your eyes,” Valentine instructed. “Don’t look in the mirror. Don’t look at yourself.”

  Eli clamped his eyes shut. A light went on, but he saw only the red of his eyelids. He tried to think happy thoughts.

  For one thing, he’d done a good deed. Mr. Quentin was on an airplane right now, on his way to better days. That made him happy.

  For another thing, he’d made it back to the Harts before it was too late for him. This ordeal wasn’t going to kill him. In fact, his body had never felt stronger. Once he had this decontamination shower and got Donny out, he was going to get a gym membership. He was going to be the biggest, toughest, strongest version of himself.

  His father would be even more proud.

  Something wet splashed down from above. Eli opened his mouth and roared.

  He still had his clothes on, because there hadn’t been time to get them off. The cold liquid felt good as it soaked his head and clothes. Refreshing.

  And then, after a few minutes, it was just cold.

  He kept his eyes shut and waited for further instructions. The decontamination shower had no scent, and felt exactly like regular water.

  “Um, guys?” he asked.

  “Let it all out, Eli.” Khan began slapping him on the back, the way you might assist someone who was choking. “Get out of there, spirit!”

  Now the water was really cold. Eli’s teeth began to chatter. He felt around inside himself and found no trace of Donny.

  Valentine giggled.

  Eli opened one eye and then the other. He was standing in an ordinary shower stall, in an ordinary bathroom. Valentine was leaning against the wall near the toilet, reading a magazine.

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  Khan gave him a final whack on the back. “All clear,” he pronounced.

  Eli stepped out of the ice cold spray.

  “This isn’t a decontamination shower,” he said.

  Khan twisted the handle and shut off the water.

>   “We may have jumped the gun,” Khan said. “But look at it this way. You’ve already been initiated, so when you start work on Monday, you won’t have that hanging over your head.”

  Valentine closed her magazine and set it aside. “You are starting work Monday, aren’t you? We’ll match whatever you were making for the delivery company, plus perks.”

  Eli pulled the front of his shirt away from his body and twisted the fabric to squeeze out some of the water.

  “What perks?” he asked.

  The two looked at each other for a moment.

  “We’ll figure out something,” Khan replied. “How do you feel about space rabies?”

  Eli shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  “Is that no to the job offer?”

  Eli’s teeth chattered one last time, then his jaw relaxed. He looked from Khan’s face to Valentine’s. A week ago, he’d never heard of a ghost hacker, and now he had a job offer to become one.

  He thought of all the things he enjoyed about being a delivery driver.

  And then he thought of all the things he didn’t enjoy about being a delivery driver, which took a little longer.

  He considered how ticked off Brenda would be that she would no longer be his supervisor at home and at work.

  “Monday,” he mused. “What time do I start?”

  Khan handed him a towel.

  “Welcome to Ghost Hackers, my man.”

  * * *

  We hope you enjoyed

  About Last Night: Ghost Hackers Book 1 by T. Paulin

  * Table of Contents *

  Bring on the Poltergeists

  Three misfit heroes hunt for ghosts in a city on the brink of destruction.

  DESCRIPTION:Former delivery driver Eli Carter has a new job hunting ghosts. His boss, smooth-talking Khan Hart, assures him their first official case is an easy one. A slam dunk. A home run. But the job doesn't go according to plan. This poltergeist doesn't play by the rules.

  In Ghost Hackers Book 2, Bring on the Poltergeists, fun and games... turn deadly.