Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls: A Ghost Hunter Mystery

by Victoria Laurie

  Gopher sighed. “Supposedly the castle’s also haunted by a powerful phantom.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I honestly laughed. “A phantom?”

  Gopher nodded. “Some supernatural shadow that’s reportedly eight feet tall and super scary is supposed to haunt the ruins looking for trespassers. I hear the thing is so creepy that none of the locals will go near the place.”

  “What’s he done to make everyone so freaked-out?” I asked. “I mean, other than being eight feet tall and all.”

  Gopher swallowed and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “ZZZZZZ ...,” said Gilley.

  “Come on, dude, out with it,” Heath insisted.

  Gopher took a deep breath before he finally answered. “According to the research I have, the phantom has actually thrown a few people off the top of the cliffs.”

  “What?” Heath and I said together.

  “But it hasn’t attacked anyone in a few years now,” Gopher added quickly. “The last victim was thrown to his death well over four years ago.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Oh, well gee golly, Gopher, if it was over four years ago, then I’m sure we don’t have to worry about it!”

  “Who was it?” Kim wanted to know.

  Gopher swirled his finger over the papers on the tabletop. “A guy heading a small group of treasure hunters. The official report suggests the phantom threw him right over the side.”

  “WHAT?!” Heath and I exclaimed again.

  Gilley woke up at this point, probably because of all the yelling. “What’d I miss?”

  “Gopher’s trying to kill us,” I snapped.

  Gilley rubbed his eyes and looked around blearily. “So, nothing new, huh?”

  “Seriously, guys,” Gopher said calmly. “This phantom isn’t anything you two can’t handle! I mean, you’re great at busting the worst demons and spooks the underworld has to throw at you. I’ve seen that firsthand.”

  I eyed our producer skeptically. “Someone’s got gold bullion on the brain.”

  “Want to pull out?” Heath asked me.

  I sighed, thinking about the pros and cons for a minute. Finally I looked at him and said, “I’m in if you are.”

  Heath’s smile returned. “Then we’re both willing to go for it.”

  “Awesome!” Gopher exclaimed. “Guys, that is awesome!”

  At that moment the call to board our plane was announced, and we all got up and shuffled toward the gate. In the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if by agreeing to this bust, I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  We landed in Londonderry heavy with fatigue and all of us ready for a nap. Gopher splurged on two vans for the seven of us, and we loaded our luggage and gear and prepared to drive north. I found a spot in the lead van, sitting right behind Heath, who was helping navigate our driver—Gopher—along the winding roads. From the sound of it, the navigating wasn’t going so well. “Wait!” I heard Heath exclaim. “You missed the turn!”

  “What turn?”

  “The one you just passed.”

  “I didn’t see any turn!”

  “It was behind that herd of sheep.”

  Muttered expletives followed while Gopher looked for a place to turn around. A bit later when Heath had apparently directed our van to a dead end, both men’s tempers boiled over and Heath tossed the map at Gopher before opening his door to go sit with Gilley in the other van.

  For a moment, no one spoke, and Meg—one of the production assistants—shot me a concerned look. “Hey, Goph?” I said cautiously.

  “What?” he snapped, eyeing the map with frustration and obviously still irritated.

  “Want me to copilot?”

  Gopher sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said, tossing me the map and motioning to the front seat. “You can’t be any worse than your boyfriend.”

  My cheeks reddened. For the record, Heath is not my boyfriend. At the moment, I’m decidedly boyfriendless, after having dumped my previous S.O. in Scotland when we both realized that distance wasn’t making our hearts grow fonder.

  And, strangely, now that I wasn’t Dr. Steven Sable’s girl—I missed him much more than I had when we were merely separated by an ocean.

  It served me right, though, because Heath and I had been crossing the line with each other well before I’d had a chance to talk to Steven, and since then, the guilt of my flirtations with my fellow ghostbuster had chilled things down for us and we’d both agreed to focus on the job at hand rather than getting handsy with each other.

  So Gopher’s remark cut into me, but I couldn’t let it show; otherwise he was the type to continue to push my buttons. Instead I gave him a tight smile, got out of the backseat, and hopped into the front, picking up the map and studying it for a minute before I instructed him to turn us around.

  It took a few minutes to get our bearings and find the main road again, but I soon had us back on track, and as we traveled along, I got to once again enjoy the gorgeous scenery. There was a lovely stretch of highway that took us right along the coast, and then we traveled into the countryside, slowly making our way northeast.

  Everywhere we looked, the hilly green terrain was dotted with fluffy white sheep. Here and there we saw smoke coming up and out of tall, weathered chimneys attached to quaint little houses with thatched or clay roofs.

  Pedestrian traffic was light, and those locals we did spot could be seen getting around on bicycle or horse. “I feel like we’ve gone back in time,” said Meg from the backseat.

  I nodded. “But I like it.”

  We finally arrived in Dunlee near noon and by that time my lids were feeling like sandpaper against my eyes. I was so tired I felt woozy.

  Still, I felt a bit better once we found the small bed-and-breakfast Gopher had booked for us and I could stretch my legs and breathe the fresh, crisp air.

  “I’ve reserved the whole thing,” Gopher said, waving his hand grandly at the rather small-looking structure.

  “How many bedrooms?” I asked, knowing Gopher could be cheap.

  “Four.”

  I frowned. There were seven of us. “So we’ll have to double up.”

  Gopher regarded me in that way that suggested he hadn’t expected me to complain. “What’s the big deal? John can bunk with Gilley. Meg and Kim can room together. You and Heath can do your own thing.”

  My eyes narrowed. Not only was Gopher assuming way too much here, but he’d purposely avoided mentioning that the last room would obviously go to him. “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said as the others gathered round.

  “I want my own room!” Gilley pouted. “I have a very strict prebedtime moisturizing routine, and if someone else is hogging the bathroom, my skin’s supple texture could be compromised.”

  My eyes swiveled to Gil. “Jesus, Gilley, could you be more of a girl?”

  “Well, one of us should be!” he snapped back.

  It was obvious that the lack of sleep, long drive, and unfamiliar surroundings were setting everyone on edge.

  That was when Heath took charge, and not a moment too soon. “Meg and Kim, you don’t mind sharing a room, do you?”

  They both shook their heads. “We’re good,” Kim said agreeably.

  Next, Heath turned to John. “You okay bunking with me?”

  “I am,” he said.

  “Awesome. Gopher, why do you think you deserve a room to yourself?”

  “Uh,” Gopher said, “because I sign your paychecks?”

  Heath nodded. “That’s a pretty good reason.” Turning to me, he asked, “Would you and Gil mind rooming together so that we can continue to get paid?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, okay.”

  Gilley’s pout deepened. “I get first dibs on the bathroom,” he grumbled.

  We made our way inside, and I was struck by the cramped feeling of the space. All the rooms were small, and so was the furniture. When I thought about it, however, I realized that I was perhaps being a bit too “
American” in my thinking. We’re used to big rooms that allow for large overstuffed furniture, giant plasma screens, and lots of legroom. But here, everything was more utilitarian, and if I gave it half a chance, I might actually like it.

  The owner of the B&B was a lovely middle-aged woman named Anya, whose hands and lips were all aflutter. “Oh, you’ve come!” she said with a small hop and a clap as we hustled our luggage through the short hallway into the sitting room. “I’ve been fretting that you might’ve missed the torn down the wee road at the train station.”

  “The torn?” Heath whispered in my ear.

  “Turn,” I whispered back.

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. “I think it’s harder to decipher the brogues when you’re tired.”

  Anya and Gopher exchanged pleasantries, and Heath and I smiled politely as the rest of the crew was introduced. “I expect you’re all a bit knackered, then?” she asked.

  Six heads looked at one another, unsure what she meant. “Tired,” I whispered to my confused companions. “She means tired.”

  Six heads swiveled back to Anya and nodded vigorously. I stifled a grin.

  Anya clapped her hands merrily. “Well, then! Let’s show you to your rooms so you can lighten the sand-man’s load for a wee spell.”

  While we followed behind Anya, Gilley leaned in and said, “I have no idea what she just said.”

  I chuckled and told him only to follow along. Anya explained that her quarters were in the small guesthouse at the back of the property, so we’d have the whole bed-and-breakfast mostly to ourselves and we could come and go as we pleased without fear of disturbing her.

  Gilley and I took the last room at the end of a hallway on the second floor. There were two twin beds and I claimed the one by the window—suffering through Gilley’s disapproving look—and lay down on the bed. “I may never get up again,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

  A knock at the door forced me to reluctantly open them again, and I turned to see Gopher in our doorway. “You two get a few hours’ sleep and meet me downstairs at three thirty. I want to have a look at the castle while it’s still light out.”

  “What about food?” Gilley whined, and my own stomach grumbled. We’d had only a muffin for breakfast and we’d skipped lunch altogether.

  Gopher’s face softened. “You’re right,” he agreed. “Let’s meet downstairs at three. I’ll tell Anya that we’re eating out so she doesn’t have to worry about cooking for us, and we’ll grab something quick on the road before we head to the coast.”

  “Awesome,” I mumbled, laying my head back and closing my eyes again. I think I was asleep before Gopher closed the door.

  When I woke up, it was very dark in the room, and I had one of those moments of total disorientation and panic where I didn’t know where I was and couldn’t remember how I had come to be in this unfamiliar setting. The adrenaline pumping through my veins quickly brought it all back, however, and then I realized the room was far too dim to be midafternoon. Fumbling around in the dark, I managed to find the small clock on the bedside table. It read four forty-five p.m.

  Great. We’d slept right through our three o’clock meeting.

  “Gil,” I said hoarsely.

  My best friend replied with a rather loud snore.

  I got up and found the light switch. Flicking it on, I squinted into the harsh light and Gilley rolled over onto his stomach to hide his face in the pillow. “Off! Light off!” his muffled voice complained.

  “It’s almost five o’clock,” I told him.

  Gilley pressed his face deeper into his pillow, and waved one hand in a downward motion. “Off!”

  With a sigh I turned the light back off, and for a moment I couldn’t see a thing. After my eyes had adjusted, I felt my way into the bathroom and took a delightfully hot shower.

  Emerging twenty minutes later, I found Gil fast asleep on his back again, and decided to let him slumber. Exiting my room, I crept along the hallway only to bump right into Heath. “I overslept!” he whispered.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  The door next to Heath’s flew open and out rushed Gopher. “Shit!” he said when he saw us. “Why didn’t you guys wake me?”

  I eyed Heath sideways, and he gave me a mischievous smile. “We tried, dude,” he told our producer seriously. “I mean, we knocked on your door for at least ... what?”

  “Ten minutes,” I said, playing along.

  “Yeah. Ten whole minutes. You never woke up.”

  Gopher’s face fell. “Shit!”

  “Well, we might as well get some dinner,” I suggested, grateful that our first night in Ireland would be blissfully uneventful and allow us to catch up on some much needed rest.

  Gopher, however, thought different. Looking at his watch, he said, “We can grab a quick bite, then check out the castle.”

  “In the dark?” Heath and I said together. I hated walking into any deserted location at night—you never knew what unseen obstacles, rotting wooden stairs, or unstable foundation awaited you.

  “You plan on busting these ghosts in the daylight?” he asked in return.

  “Gopher, that’s way too dangerous,” I reminded him. “I’m not setting foot in an old abandoned castle without making sure it’s safe first and mapping out a baseline, and I can only do that in the daylight.”

  Gopher scowled. “We’re already behind schedule, M. J.”

  “Too bad,” I snapped. I was sick of being rushed into things and forgoing my usual safety precautions. Plus, I was really worn-out, and my bones needed a good rest.

  “Can we at least head to the island tonight and check it out from the shore?”

  I sighed heavily and looked to Heath; I’d let it be his call. He appeared reluctant too. “You want to try and what, swim there?”

  Gopher smiled smartly. “Low tide’s at six. The causeway rises above sea level two hours before low tide and stays that way for another two hours. If we eat fast, we’ll have just enough time to walk there and back.”

  “Perfect,” I grumbled. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was pick my way across a slippery causeway to a deserted island with a haunted castle that I wasn’t even going to investigate until the next day. But I knew that look on my producer’s face, and he wasn’t about to let us off the hook.

  “Please, guys?” he begged.

  “Oh, all right,” I said with a sigh. “But I want real food at a sit-down restaurant for dinner.”

  We collected John and Kim (Meg begged off, and there was no rousing Gilley), and found a nice little restaurant in town called the Green Rose by six thirty. There was a lot of lamb on the menu, and my dish, at least, was delicious.

  We were on our way again by seven; John was playing navigator this time while Gopher drove. We picked our way along the shore, going slowly down to beach level. There was no one out and about on the roads, and very little in the way of light, which made the night spooky.

  To make it all the more eerie, a fog began to roll in from offshore, and Gopher had to slow the van down because he could barely see ten yards ahead. “How are we supposed to find our way across the causeway with this fog?” I asked, when the obvious hadn’t occurred to him and he showed no sign of turning around.

  “Let’s just get down to the beach and see what we see, okay, M. J.?”

  I frowned and looked at Heath, who was shaking his head. Gopher could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.

  Locating the causeway proved extremely difficult. We discovered that we’d actually passed it at least ten times as we cruised up and down the beach. The darkness and the fog all but obscured it. I was beginning to hope that Gopher would soon give up the search, as by now it was seven forty and we’d have only about twenty minutes left to get across and back, but he rigidly stuck to his plan. “There!” yelled John, finally pointing to our left. “That’s it!”

  Gopher stomped on the brakes and backed up. “About time,” he muttered, and swung the van around to park it off the road, pointing
the lights directly at the slick stone path. We all got out of the van and stared at the ten yards of causeway that we could just make out moving away from the pebbly beach.

  I shivered in the misty air, and Heath wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It’s cold, huh?” he said.

  I felt a rush of heat flow through me and warmed up fast. This was the first time we’d touched in the few days since I’d ended things with Steven. “It is chilly,” I said, even as a thread of guilt made its way into my thoughts. I wondered when I would stop bouncing back and forth between my attraction to Heath and the regret I had over letting Steven go.

  Meanwhile Gopher was rummaging around in the back of the van and came up with several flashlights. These he passed to John and Heath, keeping one for himself. “Shall we?” he asked. Without waiting for our reply, our fearless leader edged out onto the causeway.

  I scowled and moved with Heath after him, while Kim and John brought up the rear. Before long we were completely engulfed in fog and our progress was reduced to a slow and careful shuffle. “Gopher, this is ridiculous!” I finally said, stopping and refusing to go another step.

  Our producer turned to look at me with irritation. “It’s just ahead!”

  “How do you know?” I countered. “I mean, with the fog, there’s no way to tell where we are along this stupid thing, and have you noticed that the tide is coming back in?”

  Gopher inhaled and exhaled loudly. He then looked over his shoulder and pointed his flashlight behind while all around us water began to leak in over the sides of the stone walkway.

  “Fine,” he relented. “Let’s call it a day, but we’re coming back first thing in the morning.”

  I smiled at Heath, who winked at me, and we started to turn around, but at that exact moment we heard a male voice shout, “Alex!”

  All five of us stopped abruptly. “Whoa,” whispered Heath, and he pointed his flashlight back to the section of the causeway leading to the castle. “What the freak?”

  “Alex!” cried the voice again, and this time there was more than a little desperation in his voice.