Naomi steered clear of the kitchen excitement and tried to ignore the hushed whispers passing between her bartender and her manager, but she caught the gist of it. She considered offering to help, but ghosts really weren’t her forte. Naomi could cast a spell for protection, and she could probably rid the building of one misplaced ghost, but she didn’t want to. The heart attack moments and the dangers involved were not worth it. Her craft was more suited to love and abundance potions. She could help someone stay focused and centered during an important interview or test. She could cure a headache and call the deer into the yard. If you wanted singing birds during your wedding ceremony, call Naomi. Expelling unwanted spirits? Out of her wheelhouse. Way out — like located in another universe.
Jack arrived before Chris and his assistant, Juliana. Her boss bravely entered the kitchen and shut down the grill for the night, and he managed to remain uninjured. Lou begged Naomi to stay and take care of the customers before she even had the chance to ask for an early out. Being the new girl, and in desperate need of money, she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter.
In her mind, if she left work, she would be totally alone — and alone with a ghost seemed a lot worse than with a group of living, breathing people. Since she currently slept in her camper trailer behind Jack’s, the proximity of her mobile home was too close for comfort. Better to remain with the herd and be informed.
So, she stayed. Naomi cast a spell around herself to remain unseen unless she wanted to be seen. The magic she called upon used air and light waves. A technique learned at a young age. Bending light and shifting air currents proved useful in many circumstances, including confusing wayward spirits.
As she took care of the customers, Naomi had been thoroughly fascinated with how the Native American shaman worked his magic. His power came from a source foreign to her, and it appeared to come easily. Apparently, no fancy implements were needed. A commanding voice, some sage, and sweetgrass, and not much else. From what little she caught, his technique was otherworldly. The feelings he elicited within her bubbled, new and thrilling. Naomi was awestruck.
Just before Naomi served last call, the ghost hunter, and his assistant, finished up and left the pool hall. She shepherded the late night stragglers out the door, collected the rest of her tips, bussed a couple tables, and said goodnight to Lou, Jack, and her bartender.
Living behind her place of employment had become a necessary inconvenience due to the engine light glowing orange on the dashboard of her old Subaru. The light came on over a month ago. She didn’t have enough money for the repair. Leaking oil and black smoke aside, the car continued to run. She suspected that was only due to the number of prayers and spells she kept in her prayer grid.
Inside her travel trailer, she could not calm the apprehension buzzing through her insides. Something felt amiss, a supernatural disturbance in the air that had not been there before. Naomi lit candles, incense, and rearranged the crystals and stones in her prayer grid, but nothing made a difference. If she was going to find any peace, she needed to move her car and trailer away from Jack’s Corner Pocket. She could park for the night just outside of town in the national forest and wake up in the morning surrounded by the serenity of the woods.
Naomi looked at her magic circle made of quartz and amethyst crystals. The pyramid and other geometric patterns inside the circle glowed with a soft iridescence, confirming its positive charge. She held her palms over the circle and focused her mind. The folded notes and prayers overflowed the circle. With a dubious look, she realized she would need to invest in some larger crystals soon if she continued to pile on the spells and prayers inside the grid.
Leaning over from her spot on the edge of her bed, she grabbed a small notebook and wrote, “I’m safe from all harm.” “My Subie runs perfectly,” and, “I have more money than I need.” She tore the affirmations from the pad, folded them into squares, and placed them on top of all the other requests. Naomi blew out her candles, grabbed her incense, and stepped out of the trailer and into her car. She stuck the burning stick of incense in the ashtray and started the engine. The motor turned over and she stared at the orange light requesting maintenance. Naomi sent some positive thoughts to her magic grid, and then shifted into drive. It’s the last thing she remembered before seeing Chris, the ghost hunter, sleeping in bed.
* * *
Now she found herself watching two men drag Chris from his truck. He was inert and looking like this wasn’t the best morning of his life. Who were these guys? Why did they hurt Chris? He was just sitting in his truck minding his own business. Okay, maybe that wasn’t one hundred percent true. They’d both been snooping around. She didn’t think they saw him, but she was too busy trying to puzzle out why this location projected so much Earth energy. And she had been attempting to measure the vortex. Her extrasensory perception told her the vortex was expanding rapidly. A phenomenon she had never heard of before.
The construction workers didn't scare her away from exploring along the creek. The men were obviously preoccupied with the trench and the leaking pipe. She stayed out of sight, and the men never glanced her way. The ghost dressed like a time traveling Native American gave her the heebie-jeebies, though. She caught him spying on her, and he looked overly interested in what she was doing. The goofy look on his face didn’t match the intensity in his eyes, and well, the whole dead thing had her scurrying away from finding the borders of the vortex. She decided it was time to find Chris. He was the paranormal specialist after all, and he could take care of the oddball creeper following her.
Naomi dragged a hand over her scalp and tugged at her curls. She couldn’t believe the men were kidnapping Chris. She thought they were harmless only a few minutes earlier. What the heck had happened while she investigated the vortex? She glanced over her shoulder for like the tenth time. The Native American ghost had disappeared — thank the Goddess. Naomi hid behind the excavator, waiting and watching.
“Dude, why did you hit this guy?”
“He was trespassing. I smelled something shifty about him. Take a look at this blowhole. I bet he works for the city. An inspector, or worse, code enforcement.”
“You screwed up bad, man. You’re going to be in deep shit with the boss over this.”
“We’re not telling him squat. Besides, he’s my dad. He won’t fire me.”
“You're walking a fine line, Todd. After you hit his car with the backhoe last week, he said that was your last mistake. You’re so done.”
“Shut up. I am not. You have to help me dump this cocksucker.”
“Seriously? You’re an asshole, you know that.”
“It takes one to know one. Listen, Marlin,” Todd said. “We’re here to fix a problem, and that’s what I’m going to do, but first, we tie and gag this loser, drive him out to Tim-buk-fucking-tu, and by the time he resurfaces in town, we’ll have this covered up. No one will know a thing.”
“Who ties your shoes for you in the morning? That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard. You’re going to get us both fired, you stupid shit.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you helping me?”
“Because, Todd,”
The man drew out Todd’s name with a patronizing tone that made Naomi’s spine itch.
He went on. “Since you took it upon yourself to cold-cock this dude, without finding out who he is or what he’s doing here, we don’t have many options left.”
Marlin dropped Chris’s legs and opened the back door on their quad cab truck.
“So you’re saying I’m right. We gotta get him out of here before anyone spots us.”
“You’re not right. You’re a dumbass. And yeah, let’s get him out of sight. Where’s the duct tape?” He leaned into the truck.
Naomi stared hard as he rifled through the detritus on the backseat. Seconds later, he bound Chris with the tape. The two men lacked grace or care in every way as they hefted Chris into the truck and slammed the door.
Naomi winced in empathy for Chris�
�s unmoving body. What was she going to do now?
Todd walked around to the driver’s side and pulled open the door. “Marlin! What are you doing? Let’s get out of here.”
Marlin stopped walking toward the skid steer and backtracked. “We have to fix the mess you made yesterday. It’s almost daylight. If anyone sees the water running, and the pipes you broke and reports it, we’re in deep shit. The city will be all over us. The building department, EPA, city planner, and the freaking mayor will be all up in our business. You know how anal they are about every stupid thing, but especially their mineral hot springs. Your father will be fined, ticketed, and ordered to pay for God knows what.”
“They'll want him to replace every inch of rusted pipeline for the entire town while the tree hugging assholes count every bug and bunny in the county,” Todd said.
“We should have fixed this yesterday when you realized how badly you screwed up the job. Who digs in the wrong spot? You need to learn how to follow directions,” Marlin whisper-yelled.
“Did you forget to take your Midol this morning or what?”
“Go screw yourself.”
“Don’t have to. I already got some last night. Which is why I didn’t want to work in this mud hole until after dark yesterday. Maybe that’s your problem. You’re not getting enough.”
“Shut your damn trap, and help me finish this. Then we can take care of your other problem.” Marlin stomped across the lot and climbed into the skid steer. The engine growled to life, coughing and sputtering exhaust into the chill autumn air.
“Whatever,” Todd complained. “He won’t be going anywhere.” Todd left the truck door open and returned to work. When he reached the trench, he picked up a discarded shovel and leaned against it. Marlin ground the skid loader into gear and resumed pushing dirt into the trench.
Naomi didn’t waste another second. She snuck into the cab through the open door and climbed over the console to the back seat. Chris’s eyes opened wide, and he grunted against the tape over his mouth.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said. “I wouldn’t have pictured you for kink, but you know, to each their own,” she said, nonchalant and inappropriately making light of the situation.
Chris rewarded her with a glare through narrowed eyes. He could almost pull off an Asian face when he did that. She considered telling him that he’d make a decent looking Korean if his eyes permanently squinted like that, but held in the observation. It wasn’t PC. These days, everyone seemed to get offended by just about anything, plus she didn’t think Chris would appreciate her thoughts just now, given the circumstances. With desperation and panic driving her movements, she tried peeling the tape off his ankles and didn’t make much progress. He shook his head with urgency while mumbling something incoherent.
“Alright, but I’m going to do it fast.” He wore the squinty face again as she reached over to remove the duct tape from his mouth. Yep, definitely looked Asian when he made that face. Her Korean mother would approve.
Her mother may be Korean, but she married a Native American and African American U.S. Army soldier. Naomi grew up listening to comments about finding a nice Korean man, even though her own mother did not. What was with that? She and her mother had opposite views on just about every topic of discussion, but no more stridently than about who she should and should not date. In Naomi’s opinion, sexual and mental attraction had absolutely nothing to do with ethnicity and everything to do with butterflies and goose bumps. Chills ran up and down her arms when she looked Chris in the eyes, and she didn't know what to make of it.
She picked at the tape on his cheek until she had a firm grip on the edge and ripped. Every muscle in his body tensed and the muscles of his jaw hardened. To her surprise, he remained silent as he breathed through the free hair removal technique.
“There’s a knife in my vest pocket,” he said through gritted teeth. Then unnecessarily added, “Hurry.”
She patted around his waist and chest and didn’t find anything resembling a knife. However, she did enjoy a good feel of rock hard abs. For a lean man, he had some nice muscle tone. Chris caught on to her predicament.
“My inside left pocket.”
“Okay.” She searched again, and a surge of intimacy rushed through her bloodstream. This was the most intimate she had been with a man in forever. Too bad he had to be tied up. She kept her face hidden behind her hair as she dug around the bottom of the pocket and fished out the folding knife. With deft hands, she sliced through the tape with ease.
“Wow, sharp knife,” she commented.
Chris sat up, and she squeezed around him to place the knife at a good angle to cut the tape binding his wrists. Unfortunately, she glanced over at Todd and Marlin and saw something she could never imagine in her worst nightmares.
The thugs were busy working on the trench and ditches. Todd actually used the shovel instead of leaning on it, and Marlin continued to operate the skid steer. What freaked her out beyond comprehension was the circling vortex of energy funneling over the construction site and the arrival of at least thirty members of the undead. She knew they weren’t alive because of their semi-transparency. Some of the ghosts circled around with the funnel cloud of pure Earth energy, while others hovered or lingered near Todd and the open end of the trench.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Chris said. “Ow!” He yanked his hands out of the way.
Naomi shook like she was on permanent vibrate and accidentally cut him. He plucked the knife from her hand and snapped it shut. It went into his vest pocket, and he inspected the cut on his arm. Only a nick.
“Sorry.”
“I’ll live. Let’s get out of here.”
“You do see that, don’t you? What is it? What’s going on?” She babbled, scrambling away as fast as possible.
Outside of the truck, every ghost turned their eyes on them. All the blood in her body seemed to drain away. A black velvet shroud clouded her vision, and she swayed. Chris grabbed a hold of her and flashed a look of intolerance. She had the wherewithal to realize how easily she read his expression, even though they just met. She thought it was kind of funny, considering how he kept his expressions neutral. Being adept at empathy, she was used to knowing how the people around her felt and sensing their moods, but she was clearly reading his facial features. If she weren’t about to pee her pants with fright she’d like to share with him what a ripe turd he was for making faces at her.
Todd screamed, and she jolted back to the present. Passing out would have been so much better. Instead, she threw a glance behind them. Two ghosts stole Todd’s shovel. Naomi watched the shovel fly through the air and land somewhere over the sloped embankment that led to the creek. The skid loader wheeled around, and the engine died. The lot went silent. Another ghost climbed inside the cab with Marlin. The female spirit braced herself against the steel frame of the cab, lifted a leg and kicked Marlin off the seat with a booted heel. He tumbled out of the machine and landed in the dirt. Neither man could possibly be wearing clean shorts after the ghostly attack. Naomi barely controlled her own bladder as she and Chris made a break for it.
“What the hell!” she heard behind them.
“How did he bust out of the truck?”
“Grab him!”
“What do you think I’m doing!”
Naomi and Chris flew toward the pickup truck and threw themselves inside. She watched in horror as ghosts flocked behind and above Todd and Marlin.
One lithe male ghost materialized in front of Todd and screamed, “Don’t take away our vortex!”
Todd hit the sidewalk and rolled. He cowered, covering his head with beefy arms as he curled up like a baby. Marlin stopped and picked up his coworker. This gave Chris the time he needed to start the truck and tear away from the freak show.
Yeah, he was a ghost hunter, but come on, that didn’t mean he would always be surrounded by the nonliving, did it? Wow, she was on a roll. She just couldn’t figure out when she became a frequent flyer of th
e Bad Decisions Club.
“You know what, Chris? I would hang out with you a lot more if it were always this exciting,” Talks to the Wind said.
When the dead Indian appeared between them, spoke, and grinned at her, Naomi jumped so high she hit her head on the ceiling. After she finished screeching, she gripped her chest and passed out.
Chapter Four
“SHE’S A JUMPY ONE. Maybe you should teach her the ways of spirit.”
Chris tried a steadying breath. It failed miserably. Anxiety and irritation wouldn’t be alleviated with one well-intentioned inhale. While continuing to take long slow breaths he silently asked Great Spirit for clarity, fortitude, and the ability to endure through the morning. Better yet, he should request a new personality. His wasn’t working for him. He was on the verge of banishing Talks to the Wind to the farthest unknown reaches of the netherworld and taking pleasure doing it.
“What happened back there? In all my winters, I have never seen such a thing as what lay behind us. It is as if the Great Mother split open and pours out her life force.”
“That about sums it up,” Chris replied. “The new vortex is attracting lost souls and errant spirits.”
“It is pushing me away,” Talks to the Wind said.
“You are not lost or wayward,” Chris pointed out.
“That is a thought.”
A rumble or vibration in the air like that of a loud diesel engine had him checking his rearview mirror. What he saw upped his anxiety. The men who attacked him rounded the corner in their truck, tires squealing in pursuit. Chris pressed the gas pedal and took the next left at high speed. The truck leaned hard, pushing the suspension to its limit, and tossed Naomi into the door.
The Misplaced: An Angel Falls Novella - book #3.5 - Ghost Hunting with Chris Abeyta Page 3
