The Jolly Dodger (The Soul Seekers Book 8)

by Alice J Black

  “I’ll go get us a coffee.”

  “Food.” He waved his hand.

  I rolled my eyes, pulled on my clothes from the night before, determining that I’d shower at a more reasonable hour, and slipped into my trainers. “Won’t be long.” I picked up my bag and left.

  The ship was eerily quiet. My footsteps were loud, and I wondered what time it was. I grabbed my phone from my bag and saw that it was seven.

  Seven on a Saturday morning and I was walking down the corridor of a pirate ship, in search of caffeine. I smiled at the absurdity.

  The bar was closed, a metal shutter pulled down over its front. It was a stark contrast from the night before when the pub was bellowing and lively. Now only the glaring lights of a slot machine were visible.

  A slot machine. On a pirate ship. Real authentic.

  It was a welcomed relief to see that the cafe was already open, the metal shutter rolled up high, and the lights on inside. I stepped in and inhaled as the scent of coffee hit me and happiness washed over me.

  “What can I get you?” a man behind the counter asked. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin was pale.

  “Late night?” I asked as I stepped up.

  “It’s not just you landlubbers who can party.” He shot me a quick smile.

  He’d made some effort with his pirate costume, but I saw a pair of trainers on his feet and smiled. I’d still give him points for trying.

  “Could I get two lattes, please?”

  “Sure.”

  He set to work, and as he made the coffees, I selected a couple of pre-packaged treats. He set two cardboard cups completed with lids on the counter and rang it all through. I paid and headed back to the room.

  Jake had fallen back asleep, but he woke when I entered, took a cup from me, and sipped.

  “That tastes good.” He leaned back against his pillow, with a deep sigh. His skin was pallid, and he had bags beneath his eyes.

  “Want a flapjack or some crisps.”

  “I’ll take them both.”

  I threw them in his direction and they landed in his lap.

  I grinned as I removed the bag from my shoulder and dumped it on top of my bed. “That bad?”

  “That bad,” he said. “Do you still have an issue with sharing the bed?”

  “Not so much.” I smiled as he scooted over, then shed my jeans and climbed beneath the covers.

  We squished into the tiny bed, enjoying our coffee and a mini-feast of greasy goodness.

  “So tell me about your night,” I said.

  “Honestly, most of it is black matter now.”

  “How much did you drink?”

  “I have no idea.” He shook his head. “Way too much. I can’t remember the last time I drank like that. Being with a girl who doesn’t drink kinda makes you not drink so much.”

  “Hey, don’t act like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It’s not a bad thing. Only when you decide you’re going to drink like a fish again.”

  “You’ll recover.”

  “So tell me about your night.”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to relive it. “It was boring.”

  “Even the part where you spotted a man overboard?” He arched his brow.

  “You remember.” I sagged. He didn’t remember anything else except the fact that I’d made a fool of myself.

  “Yes. So spill.”

  “I told you everything last night. I was exploring, heard a splash, saw someone overboard, summoned help.”

  “Only, there wasn’t anyone there.”

  “Exactly.” I nodded. “Or at least that’s what they tell me.”

  “You know, Peyton, ever since we stepped on board, you’ve been a little . . . off.”

  “Off?”

  “Yeah. Tense. On edge.”

  “I guess I have been.”

  “Any reason why?”

  I looked at him and considered lying. He needed to enjoy some time away, ghost free. My lifestyle wasn’t the easiest to take, but I hated lying to him. Plus, I was pretty terrible at it. And maybe talking to someone else would help.

  “I think there’s a spirit on board.”

  “Of course there is.” He sighed, then took another sip of coffee.

  I expected an admonishment, an angry curse, but there was none.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  “While we were eating yesterday, I heard a voice. And then last night, when I came in here, I heard it again. I was exploring, looking for something old that a spirit could be tied to, when—”

  “Why old?”

  “Oh, the spirit was a pirate.”

  “Everyone here is a pirate, Peyton.”

  “No, this spirit is like a real pirate. Yo-ho-ho and everything.”

  “Right.” His brow arched again.

  “So I was looking for something it could be connected to, when the whole man-overboard thing happened.”

  “You think that could’ve been a part of it?”

  “A ghost, you mean?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah. I mean, if there really wasn’t a man overboard, that’s the only other explanation, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I hate this.” I shook my head. “I go on vacation to get away from ghosts, just for a few nights, but they’re still there. All the time. They follow me around.”

  “Chin up. At least you’ve got me.”

  “Yeah. I know.” I patted his leg. “I’m surprised you haven’t run away screaming yet, but I’m glad.”

  He moved in to kiss me, but I held up my hands.

  He frowned. “What’s up?”

  “You still have beer breath.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go brush. But when I get back in bed I’m going to maul you.”

  “Is that a promise?” I winked.

  He jumped up, and I laughed as he squeezed into the tiny bathroom. Then I heard the buzz of his toothbrush.

  Breakfast didn’t occur until hours later, and even then, everyone was still looking rough. My morning session with Jake had perked him up a little, but his eyes were still heavy and he wore a hoody reserved for such days. Olivia came out without a smidgen of makeup on, and Rob looked green around the gills.

  In the cafe, we squeezed into plastic seats around a small table. It had been the only table available when we got there. The entire population of the ship seemed to have had the same idea. But judging by many of the expressions, I figured they would need more than caffeine to perk up.

  The smell of coffee was divine. I felt fresh as a daisy, and that made me joyful I didn’t partake anymore.

  “That hit the spot.” I patted my stomach.

  The flapjack I shared with Jake didn’t last long, but the full English was perfect. Olivia was still nibbling on a slice of toast, and Rob had only ordered black coffee.

  “So what’s the plan today?” I asked.

  Olivia moaned. “I think I might need to head back to bed.”

  “Really?” I sighed.

  “I feel rough as hell.”

  “This is your own fault, you know.”

  “Shut up,” she snapped.

  “Hey, if you need your bed, then fine.” I turned to Jake. “You feeling up to doing something?”

  He nodded. “Breakfast has sorted me right out. And besides, I’ve got some making up to do.”

  “That’s right.” I grinned. “So we’ll see you guys later?” I said.

  Olivia nodded, and Rob muttered something unintelligible.

  Jake grabbed my hand, and together we left the coffee shop.

  “I’ll never call Olivia a grump again.” Jake grinned.

  “I haven’t seen her hungover in a long time.” I returned the smile. “Hey, you know what just hit me?”

  “What?”

  “Everyone I know, mostly, they don’t drink around me.”

  “That’s because you work so hard to stay sober that nobody wants to throw it in your face
.”

  “Yeah, but just because it was an issue for me doesn’t mean it is for everyone else.”

  “Think of it as a positive thing.

  “I guess. So what do you want to do?”

  “How about we check out all those pictures?”

  He pointed to the walls, and as a frame came into view, so did the memory of the previous night when I was the laughing stock of the Jolly Dodger.

  “We need to figure this out, right?”

  “I’m tempted just to ignore it all.” I grimaced.

  I didn’t want to face it, not after I’d sent half the staff on a wild goose chase last night. And the ones that weren’t involved had heard about it and judged me.

  “It’ll only last so long. And we’re here another night. If we don’t at least try, things might get worse. They have a habit of doing that.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “You’re right.”

  “Come on. We can just take a little look.”

  “Okay. Just a little look,” I allowed Jake to lead me towards the first picture.

  “It’s a drawing of a pirate ship.” Jake pointed.

  It hung in a golden frame. The edges of the picture were yellowed with age, and I wondered where it had been sourced.

  “It looks just like the Jolly Dodger. Kind of.” I squinted, turning my head to the side.

  Maybe it was the Jolly Dodger before health and safety inspectors had come on board.

  “Maybe they fashioned the ship from the picture?” he said.

  “I guess that makes sense.” I nodded.

  After a few minutes, we moved onto the next picture. An image of sailors on a dock, ready to board. They stood to attention, suits immaculately pressed. The black and white image was grainy, but I still saw the excitement of the youngest crew member, standing at the end of the line.

  We strolled along the corridor, taking in the pictures, reading the small captions. We saw artwork, photos, and diagrams. A map of an island, a photo of the ship’s wheel, and a painting of a whale. They were all framed the same way and hung at regular intervals across the wall.

  “Do you think any of these could be the culprit?” Jake asked as we reached the end and turned back.

  I shrugged. “Could be. Hard to tell, really. I think I need to talk to someone about the spirit.”

  “They’re already looking at you like you’re crazy, and you want to encourage it?” His mouth gaped open.

  “What’s new?” I smiled. “Besides, you’re right. Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy most of the time anyway, and we have to figure this out.”

  “Shall we try to find Pete?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We eventually located him on the deck a half an hour later, after a whole load of walking and a casual tour of the ship. He was holding a small group of people captive as he told them about the rigging on the ship.

  Jake and I joined the throng, and I half-listened while fighting the urge to turn around and look at the plank.

  Eventually the talk was over, and after a lack of questions forthcoming, the group dispersed and we moved forward.

  “Pete?” I said.

  “Oh, hi.” He turned to face me, with an empathetic smile. “I heard about last night.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who hasn’t?”

  He shrugged. “Listen, don’t let them bother you. The sea at night can do funny things to the mind.”

  “It wasn’t a trick of the mind. At least I don’t think it was.” I frowned. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” He nodded, looking from me to Jake, waiting for the questions to commence.

  “Have you worked on the Jolly Dodger for a while?” I asked.

  “I’ve been here since it opened.” His chest swelled as he rubbed his hands together.

  “How long has it been open?” Jake cocked his head.

  “Seven years this year.”

  “Pete,” I said, “have you ever noticed anything strange about the ship?”

  He frowned. “Strange, how?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe, like, weird voices or noises. Things moving on their own. That sort of thing.”

  “Ghosts, you mean?” He looked me in the eyes.

  I expected him to explode into laughter or at least chock my questions up to a screwed-up mental state.

  “Yeah. All the time,” he said.

  My jaw dropped.

  I had been fighting against the staff team since the episode, but Pete agreed with me. There was a spirit on board and he knew it.

  “So the Jolly Dodger is haunted?”

  Pete nodded and crossed his arms. “It’s haunted by an old seafaring man. Whitby Sutton was his name, but he was more commonly known as The Nightmare.”

  The Nightmare?” I exchanged a look with Jake. “Surely, nicknames like that are stuff of fairy tales and myths.”

  Jake shook his head, turning his lip out. “Never heard of him. And with a name like that, he’d be hard to forget.”

  “If you’re not a seafaring man, the likelihood is you wouldn’t have heard of him. Even this lot on board doesn’t really know the stories.” He shook his head in disgust. “That’s the problem with the company now. They get whoever will do work like this. Not true sailors or seamen.”

  “What about Whitby?” I asked.

  “He sailed on a ship called Soul Stealer.”

  “How ominous.” I shook my head.

  “He was a pirate, the worst of the worst.”

  “So tell me, Pete, how did his ghost come to be on the Jolly Dodger?”

  “He was invited aboard, of course.” Pete shrugged.

  “What do you mean, of course?” Jake stepped forward.

  I laid my hand on his arm and he stopped mid stride but Pete’s words rolled across my mind. I couldn’t believe it myself. For somebody to invite a ghost in was unheard of. Ghosts were, at best, pesky creatures, and at worst, dangerous. Nobody would willingly invite one into their home, so I was struggling to understand the concept of inviting one on board.

  “Whitby’s ghost was invited on the Jolly Dodger?” I asked.

  “When the Jolly Dodger opened, we knew we had it made. The ship was taking a killing, and it was booked up for months in advance, but a lot of the feedback we received was about authenticity. That was back before all the health and safety laws. Even then, people weren’t happy with how it looked.” He shook his head. “It was decided that what we needed was a true seafaring man. The Nightmare was the local legend amongst us sailors. It seemed like a good idea at first, like it might help the ship’s reputation.”

  “You brought a ghost on board to boost authenticity?” I chided.

  “I didn’t do it.” Pete held his hand to his chest. “I was one of the ones who said it was a bad idea, but I was outnumbered and they did it anyway. The first few months were chaotic, but his spirit has settled down and it’s rare that we hear from him.”

  “Until someone like me comes on board and his spirit is attracted,” I snorted.

  “Just because you saw something overboard doesn’t mean he’s come out of hiding.”

  “I saw sharks passing the window. A voice invaded my mind. He knows I’m here, and he knows what I am.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Jake edged forward.

  My grip tightened on his arm.

  “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to. She’s being affected by this ghost, and all you can do is apologise?”

  “It’s okay, Jake.” I shot him a quick smile and turned back to Pete. “You do realise that a ghost is the soul of a person who hasn’t passed over.”

  “I know what a ghost is. I’ve worked on the seas for many years before I became a puppet at the Jolly Dodger.” Pete shrugged.

  “You’re toying with someone’s soul,” I spewed, my teeth gritting and heartbeat racing.

  This man was standing in front of me with apparent ignorance or complete idiocy, pretending that inviting a ghost on
board was the most natural thing in the world.

  “He’s dead,” Pete said.

  I bit my tongue, counted to three, and took a deep breath. In all my time as a ghost hunter, and even before that when I avoided spirits like the plague, never would I have dreamed of using them as a weapon. Risk came with spirits, and toying with them was a dangerous game.

  After I’d taken enough deep breaths to calm myself, I asked, “How did you get him on board?”

  “We acquired a few things.”

  “Like?”

  “Pictures, maps, that sort of thing.”

  “You’re not being very helpful.”

  “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

  “I’m a ghost hunter, and ever since I set foot on this ship, Whitby Sutton has been hounding me. I plan to get rid of him.”

  Pete’s arms tightened over his chest. “You can’t.”

  “I can, and I will.”

  “I’m not worried,” he sneered. “There’s no way you’ll find his anchor.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I will.” I crossed my arms.

  Jake swelled up to his full height.

  “And let me tell you something. Once I finally release him, he’ll be gunning for revenge. Make sure you’re nowhere near, otherwise you might get dragged down to Davy Jones’s locker right with him.”

  Pete scoffed and dropped his stance, looking me up and down. “You know, maybe the guys were right about you. You are batshit crazy.”

  Jake jerked forward, and Pete jumped back.

  I held Jake back while glaring at Pete. “You say I’m crazy? I wouldn’t invite a spirit into a place I spent most of my time, especially when it knows you were involved.” I stared at him.

  Jake was foaming at the bit.

  I cocked my head. “Like I said, be careful when I set him free.”

  Pete turned away, scowling, and headed starboard.

  “That idiot,” Jake said. “You should’ve let me at him.”

  “And risk being sent back to shore in a dingy? No thanks.” I shook my head. “As much as I don’t like being stuck on a ship with a ghost, we have to deal with this, and I need your help.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to find whatever’s keeping Whitby Sutton on board and to burn it.”