Haunted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 2)

by M. L. Bullock

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “It’s a new habit. Want one?”

  “No, I’d better not.” I quickly opened my phone to show Joshua the picture of my painting. Tapping on the screen, I pulled up the image and slid the phone in his direction. “This is what I wanted to show you. I painted it just a few nights ago.”

  Rubbing his eyes, he let the cigarette dangle from his lips as he stared at it. “Damn, that’s creepy. Why would you paint me? And who is this woman?” He couldn’t stop staring at the screen, and I could tell the image made him uncomfortable. Or maybe I made him uncomfortable. I sensed that was closer to the truth.

  “Her name is Ettawa. Ettawa Maybee. She was a voodoo queen, and she haunts the Valhalla Cemetery. You probably read in the paper about the guy that they found hanged there a while back. That’s the cemetery I’m talking about.”

  Joshua handed the phone back to me and leaned back in the chair, pretending to be unconcerned and unimpressed with what I presented him. “God, you’re so strange, Cassidy.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  “I still don’t know what this has to do with me. Why did you have to show me that? Like I don’t have enough hell in my life.”

  “But that’s you in the picture, Joshua. And that has to mean something. Has anything been going on? Anything paranormal? Have you seen this woman before?”

  He flicked his half-smoked cigarette in the trash can and sighed. “No, and I think I would remember her if I did. Does the rest of the team know about this? What does Midas say?”

  I put the phone back in my purse and zipped it up. “Midas hasn’t said much yet, but he’s busy with something personal. I know he plans on investigating the cemetery, though. I’ve checked it out on my own—I mean, with Bob Estes, the guy who ran the tour that was going on when that guy got killed—and there’s activity. Ettawa’s there, and she wants us to find her son. He’s buried in Valhalla somewhere, but nobody knows where his grave is. I think if I can find it, she’ll rest and you’ll be safe.”

  “Sounds like you already have all the answers, Cassidy. What do you need me for?”

  “I thought you’d want to know. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew something might…I mean, if I knew you could be in danger and I didn’t say anything. My only thought was to help you. Make sure you’re okay. I see that you are, and I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  I started to leave, but Joshua stopped me. “Wait, the truth is, I haven’t been sleeping well lately. But I’m pretty sure that has to do with the fact that my wife cheated on me and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t seen any ghosts, but I do feel at times like someone is watching me. Like someone is standing outside my window at night. I haven’t slept with the curtains closed since I was a child, but if I expect to get any rest at all, I have to.”

  I gave him a sympathetic look and said, “For the record, Sierra doesn’t know I’m here. She didn’t send me; I just wanted you to be aware. If you see anything, hear anything, call me. Or Midas. We’re your friends, and we want to help. Maybe I’m wrong. I could be. But one more thing—you do favor this woman’s ex-lover. I mean, big-time favor him.”

  “So, it could be him in the painting and not me? Why didn’t you say that?”

  “It could be, but as your friend, I felt that I had to show you. I guess you can do what you want with the information.”

  “I’m sorry I’m being such a jerk. I’ve just had a rough couple of months. It’s not fair to take it out on you. Email me a copy of that picture, and if I see anything or see that woman, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s all I can ask, but please…consider coming out to investigate with us. We need your help.”

  “What about you and Midas? Have you apologized yet?”

  “I’m working up to it. I know I have to.”

  “I’m not one to give advice when it comes to relationships, just saying.”

  No time like the present, I thought. “Well, I’d better go. I have a phone call to make.”

  Joshua lit another cigarette, and I waved goodbye to him as I drove off and dialed Midas.

  “Hey, Midas. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, what’s up?”

  “I’m sorry, Midas. I’ve been a horrible friend. I treated you like you did something on purpose when I know you didn’t. I care about you. A lot. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too. When this investigation is over, I’d like to talk, if that’s all right with you.”

  We talked a few more minutes, and I hung up feeling better about us.

  I hoped it would last.

  Chapter Nine—Sierra

  The only person who seemed excited about tonight’s investigation at Valhalla was Bob. Amy tagged along too, which I could see didn’t make Midas too happy. The five of us rode in Midas’ SUV to the cemetery where we met his cop cousin, Jimmy, who gave us exclusive access to the cordoned-off area near the live oak.

  “This place is all clear now. The investigators say they’ve searched the site with a fine-toothed comb, but if you find anything—I mean, like real evidence—let me know. And don’t touch anything.”

  “Of course, and thanks for getting us in here.” Midas shook Jimmy’s hand. The cop looked nervous but nodded solemnly as if he might change his mind at any moment and call the whole thing off. I couldn’t see any resemblance between the Demopolis men. Midas had a handsome face and toned physique, while his cousin could blend into a crowd easily. Nothing remarkable about him, but he was friendly.

  “You’re Sierra, right? I met you before, back at Midas’ barbecue last summer. You were there with Sara and that other guy. What was his name?” Jimmy grinned, and suddenly I saw the Demopolis smile, awkward but beautiful.

  “You mean Joshua, my husband?” I reminded him, figuring it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “Oh yeah. You were with Joshua, that’s right. Well, you keep my cousin straight.” He pointed at Midas as if he were his older brother and Midas a naughty teenager.

  “I’ll try, but it’s a full-time job,” I replied with a smile. Jimmy tipped his hat slightly and left us alone at Valhalla.

  By now, Cassidy and Bob were in the back of the SUV digging out equipment while Amy watched nervously. I could see she didn’t want to be here. Why had she come, then? To keep an eye on her dad? He seemed like the type to get into trouble whenever he could. I guessed in their family, Amy was the grown-up. Kind of like my marriage. I was the grown-up until I admitted to one mistake. And it was a whopper, Sierra Kay!

  I felt lonesome for Joshua, but I refused to call him and harass him. If we were meant to be, it would happen. If not, well, I had no one to blame but myself.

  After talking with Bob, Midas decided that the GCP team needed to take a daytime tour before our night investigation. There were some natural dips in the landscape, some hazards that we needed to become familiar with before we went traipsing through Eight Mile’s oldest cemetery. And we were talking about investigating five acres of land. It was important to narrow down where to set up the cameras; we only had five, not nearly enough to cover every inch of the place.

  Midas said, “Naturally, tonight we’re going to cover the tree where they found Chris Trapper, the Three Crosses and that patch of the old cemetery where you two had some activity with our cameras, but we have two more to use as well. At some point, I’d like to do some work on those ‘altar stones’ or whatever they are. Let’s set some cameras up over there too. This afternoon we’re just here to get a feel for the place, take some pictures, note anything unusual and of course, get some recordings. Record times and locations if you do see something strange. According to the witness, Carla Trapper, whistling in this graveyard got the activity stirred up, so maybe some of you could try that if nothing else works. Cassidy has seen Ettawa Maybee, the suspected ghost, so I think it’s smart to talk to her. Why don’t Bob, Sierra and Amy walk down to the Three Crosses, take some photos and look around? Cas
sidy and I will check out this tree. Sierra, you take that walkie. We’ll take this one. Meet you back here in thirty minutes, and we’ll head back to the GCP office for a quick review and heavy equipment prep.”

  “Sounds great,” Amy said, smiling tentatively at Midas. “I think I can handle thirty minutes here, but that’s it. This place creeps me out, especially after Chris Trapper.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Amy. Why don’t you stay here and let us walk around?” he suggested, his eyebrows furrowed.

  “No way. I’m not letting Dad loose in this cemetery without me again,” she replied, eyeing Cassidy angrily. Cassidy didn’t appear to notice. She was fighting with the battery case on her digital camera.

  “Hey, I’ve survived worse than this place,” Bob said as he flicked on his camera and took her picture.

  “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” With a stubborn stride, she began to make the trek to the crosses.

  “Wait, Amy! We need to take pictures as we go. What’s the hurry?” I trailed behind her, determined to be thorough.

  “I just don’t like it here, and I’m not sure I like your friend.”

  “Cassidy? Why? What did she do?”

  “Nothing except get my dad involved in this.”

  “Hey, I’m right here, kiddo. Don’t talk about me like I’m deaf. I’m here because a man got killed on my tour, Amy. Don’t you think I should help find some answers if I can?”

  “That’s a job for the cops, and I’m sure it wasn’t a ghost that killed Chris Trapper, Dad. People kill people. Not ghosts. Doing this isn’t going to bring us any closer to finding out what happened. All this paranormal crap gets on my nerves. For the love of God, why can’t you be like a normal dad?”

  I stopped on the gravel pathway for a moment. “Not to get into your business here, but this kind of contention isn’t useful for paranormal investigating. And for the record, you’re right. Ghosts don’t kill people, but they can influence the living to do all sorts of things. Inciting people to murder is one of them.”

  “That’s great. What happens if we’re influenced to do something like that?”

  “Amy, I’ll be happy to talk about all this after we’ve finished. Do you want to go back to the car? I can have Midas meet you there.”

  “You know what, that sounds like a good idea. I can’t take this. I don’t want to be here.” There were tears in her eyes. I pulled the walkie off my back pocket. “Sierra for Midas.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Is the SUV unlocked? Amy needs to rest a minute.”

  “I’ll head there now. Be there in a second.”

  Amy left us without another word, and Bob watched her walk back to the safety of the SUV. “She’s always been nervous about stuff like this. Funny, considering we run a haunted tour company. I don’t think she actually believes in this stuff. Sorry about that.”

  “No worries at all. Should we try some whistles by the crosses, just to see what happens?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Let’s go slow, though. I don’t want to miss anything.”

  I let out a whistle, like the one I used with Bozo. He was a cute little thing, and I missed him, especially at meal time when I had to eat alone. I began recording our conversation. “So, Cassidy has a picture of Joshua, a painting that she says looks like Ettawa’s ex-lover, Quincy Justice. Now, why would Ettawa want to kill Joshua, unless she thinks he’s Quincy? She’s never met him.” I was talking to myself, really, as I always did when I was on an investigation. I whistled again as Bob snapped photos of the crosses from all directions. He even snapped a few of me.

  “Hey, Ettawa, let me tell you something. If you come after my man, you won’t know what hit you.” I’d thought to provoke her a little, to try to capture her voice on the digital recorder, but she didn’t take the bait.

  We waited, and Bob watched as I examined the crosses. “I don’t see anything unusual. If there are special nails inside these things, how would we know it?” I waved my EMF detector near one of the crosses, but it didn’t register a thing, not even a bump in the electromagnetic field. That was disappointing. “Ettawa, you don’t impress me at all. I think my friend is dreaming you up. If you’re here, make your presence known.”

  “Yeah, I think this talk about Ettawa coming back here is just that, a lot of talk. I don’t think she’d have the nerve to come this close to the Three Crosses. Reverend Gosling must have prayed a powerful prayer at this monument to keep the old girl out for so long.” Bob winked at me, letting me know he was attempting to provoke Ettawa too.

  “Shall we keep going? What about the Blue Cross? Do we have time to investigate that?” I asked with an exasperated sigh. “Maybe someone else can talk to us.”

  “Yeah, that sounds great.” Bob snapped photos as we traveled to the edge of the lake.

  According to my research, a local politician erected the Blue Cross in the 1980s in honor of some fallen policemen. They lit the memorial up each night, and lots of people came to take pictures and stand beneath it. Right now, it didn’t look too impressive, just an unlit sign, but the graves around were neat and tidy, and there was a shady live oak off to the left of it.

  “Leo? Are you here? We’d like to find you. We know you’re lost out here.” I heard a muffled sound. “Did you…”

  “Yep, let’s play that back.” Bob rewound the tape, and we listened to the response. Someone had answered us, but I couldn’t determine if the voice was male, female, living or dead. I didn’t see anyone around, and neither did Bob, but voices could carry sometimes. “That’s something, at least. Let’s keep talking to Leo. Since you’re getting the responses, you should stay in the lead.”

  I nodded and squinted against the sun as I said, “Leo, can you hear us? Can you tell us where you are so we can help you?” I waited a few seconds and then heard a moan. Bob and I stared at each other when we heard it again. A low, indistinct sound was coming from one of the nearby graves. I suddenly recalled Ettawa’s alleged powers, especially the one that claimed she could raise an army of spirits whenever she liked. We heard the sound again, but then I knew the truth. That was no moan but a meow. Before I could speak, the animal shot out toward Bob and fled from our presence.

  “Darn cat!” Bob nearly jumped out of his skin when the mangy-looking tabby scampered past us. It meowed one last time and then streaked across the cemetery toward the eastern woods.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Bob’s long legs hopping up and down. The image of an angry spider came to mind, but then I was slapped into silence. “Ow!” I grabbed the side of my face and gave Bob an accusing stare.

  “What?” he asked in a bewildered voice.

  “I know you couldn’t have done it because you aren’t close enough, but someone just slapped my face.” I rubbed at the spot and asked him to take a look.

  “That has to hurt! There’s a small handprint, right across your cheek.” Without asking permission, he snapped a picture, but I didn’t fuss about it. It would certainly qualify as evidence.

  “I can’t believe this. It’s the middle of the day, the sun is shining, and I get slapped in the face by a ghost.” I clicked on the audio recorder and asked, “Ettawa, was that you who slapped me? Why would you hit me? That’s not okay.” We waited but heard nothing and had no other interaction.

  Bob tapped his oversized watch. “Shoot! Our time is up. I think we’ve got some good evidence, though. Let’s go back to the SUV and talk to the others. I believe it’s clear that whoever is walking the grounds here, whatever spirit haunts this place, has mischief on their mind.”

  “I would agree with that,” I said, rubbing my burning cheek. “Is this getting redder? It feels like it’s on fire.”

  “Yes, it is. You might need to ice that down. Oh Lord, Amy’s really going to freak out when she sees that. I think maybe I’ll skip the review this afternoon; my daughter is going to need some reassuring. But I’ll be more than happy to show up tonight. We have to find Leo’s g
rave. That will fix everything, I think.”

  We all arrived at the SUV about the same time. Midas and Cassidy hadn’t heard or seen anything, but the handprint on my cheek was enough proof that there was something to Cassidy’s portrait. And certainly sufficient evidence to warrant coming back tonight. Of that, there was no doubt.

  If I had any brains, I would have called in sick.

  Chapter Ten—Midas Demopolis

  “Okay, guys. It’s 8:30, time to roll out.” I tossed my keys up and caught them before shoving them in my pocket. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this investigation. It hadn’t come to us through the usual channels. The typical scenario went something like this: homeowner or property owner has a disturbing experience, someone mentions Gulf Coast Paranormal, they call us and then we check it out. But this investigation came to us through one of Cassidy’s painting sessions.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her sessions were genuine, but in my opinion, she was too fragile, at least at the moment. I’d been secretly relieved when she hadn’t shown up for the last several investigations. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a natural talent for paranormal work or that I didn’t like her. No, I liked her a lot—probably too much. The simple fact was I worried about her, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible for what happened. Her disappointment over not finding Kylie had rocked her, and I knew she hadn’t gotten over it. As much as I knew all that, I couldn’t help but feel I’d let her down.

  Cassidy asked Sierra, “How are you feeling?”

  Sierra tapped her cheek tentatively. “My face isn’t on fire anymore, so that’s good. I’d advise everyone to go easy on the provoking tonight. Ettawa would appear a bit touchy—if it was her, anyway. Who knows who hit me?”

  I said, “Yes, less provoking tonight, please. Did you remember to grab the shadow detector?”

  “Yes, Midas. Bob and I have everything loaded in the van.” Sierra waved her clipboard as if she wanted to prove that she was telling the truth.