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

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Haunted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 2) Page 8

by M. L. Bullock


  “Bob, we’re glad you’ve joined us for the night investigation. How is Amy doing?”

  “She’ll be okay. She knows why I have to do this, and I’m grateful you included me, Midas. It means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome. Here’s what we know, Sierra had a personal encounter near the Blue Cross earlier, so there’s obviously some negative energy there. Cassidy and I will head there first, see if we can experience anything, then we’ll go to the stone altar area. There just wasn’t enough time to check it out earlier today, but I don’t want to pass it over. Sierra and Bob will take the pathway to the right at the cemetery entrance and canvas the property near the tree. Let’s be thorough. Our working theory is that Ettawa wants to find her son before they relocate this cemetery. Maybe by doing that we can bring closure and she’ll stop her destructive behavior.”

  “If she can’t find him in the spirit world, what difference will it make if we find his body?” And that was Josh. When had he walked in? I didn’t even hear the doorbell ring. As usual lately, his attitude ticked me off.

  “I don’t know that it will make any difference at all, but I’m willing to try. You in on this investigation, or have you come to clean out your office?”

  Josh rubbed his hand over his short blond hair and scowled at me like I’d lost my mind. I was tired of all the uncertainty in my life. If he was going to quit, I wanted to know about it sooner rather than later. I had some big decisions to make, but none of it mattered if I didn’t have a team anymore. “I’m not a quitter,” he said. I could see Sierra’s face pale at his answer, but she kept her mouth closed.

  “Let’s get going, then. ETA should be twenty minutes. Setup won’t take long. Josh, would you mind running the truck? Since you’re coming along, that means we can have eyes watching over us. I don’t know if you heard, but Sierra got slapped during the afternoon investigation, so there’s evidence of some negative energy around. Cassidy has seen this Ettawa Maybee, and we are hoping we can gather some clues as to the whereabouts of her son.”

  “Sure, I’ll man the van. You got the keys?” I tossed him the keys and decided I would take my SUV too. Cassidy and Sierra rode with me, while Bob hopped in the van to keep Josh company. Bob might talk his ear off, but better him than me. I liked Bob, but he was a lot of personality to handle all at once.

  “How are you?” Sierra asked Cassidy as we drove down Schillinger Road.

  “What do you mean?” Cassidy answered in a defensive tone while I kept my eyes focused on the road. This area was heavily wooded and known to have animals run across the roads at night. I also didn’t want her to know I cared. Even though I did, more than I wanted to admit. “Do you mean am I losing it?”

  “No, I mean have you added any more details to Joshua’s picture?”

  “Not really. Nothing that would give us any helpful information.” Hmm…that was a coy answer. I wondered if Sierra would pick up on the fact she didn’t say no.

  “How did Joshua know about the investigation, Midas? Did you call him? I wish you had given me a heads-up on that.”

  As much as I loved Little Sister, the McBride drama wore me out. With their constant bickering, Cassidy’s cold shoulder and Sara’s relentless pursuit of revenge, I was ready to blow a fuse. I’d hoped that at least with this investigation, we might have some peace between us all tonight. “Nope, it wasn’t me. I haven’t heard a word from him in over a week and not much before that.”

  “It was me,” Cassidy confessed from the backseat. I could see her chew her lip as she glanced up at me in the rearview mirror. “I told him about the painting. I showed it to him. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. Weren’t you trying to get a hold of him yourself, Sierra?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” she sniffed, but it wasn’t fine.

  Thankfully, we pulled into Valhalla Cemetery just then, with the van right behind us. “All right, we have permission to be here, but only til midnight. So we’ve got a lot to do in three hours. Let’s get those wireless cameras set up. What’s up with the fog?”

  Sierra’s worried expression didn’t shake the sudden shiver that ran across my chest. “It was like that the night Chris Trapper died too,” she said. “Bob said the fog was so thick you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t get that bad tonight, or else we won’t catch much on film,” I answered as we headed to the van.

  Josh had the back doors open and was already positioning laptops on the built-in shelf. I handed him a copy of the diagram I’d drawn. “I’ve got the map right there. We’re using all five cameras tonight in these locations. Cassidy and I are heading to the Three Crosses; Bob and Sierra will start at the live oak where they found Chris Trapper and then make the walk around.”

  Sierra lingered by my side, but her husband didn’t act like he saw her or wanted to talk to her. I hoped those two behaved tonight. “Perfect,” he replied as he put his headphones on to begin audio checks while the four of us waded through the fog to deploy the cameras.

  “Cassidy, you’re with me,” I reminded her, trying not to pay attention to her long red hair and fitted blue jeans.

  “I’m right behind you,” she called up as she fiddled with her phone. Ten minutes later we were checking the camera’s angle and making sure it was directly on the Three Crosses. Cassidy called Josh on the walkie, and after a few minor adjustments, we had a perfect shot. She shivered as she glanced around. “Man, this place is creepy.”

  “Yeah, most graveyards are like that,” I said sharply. She didn’t have a witty comeback, and I instantly felt like a jerk. “But the fog certainly adds to the ambiance.”

  “Ambiance. That’s a good word for it.” She put her hands in her pockets and watched me as I waved the K2 meter around the monument.

  “Seems pretty flat right now.”

  Cassidy pointed her flashlight at a row of old graves and scanned each one, probably hoping to see Leo’s name on one of them. “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing. Why would Quincy kidnap his son? And why would he kill him? It seems like a horrible thing to do just to get back at his ex. Kind of extreme, but then again, they do say love can turn to hate. What do you think?”

  “I think they sound like oil and water.” And then a blip appeared on the K2. “That’s interesting. Got a bump.”

  “Kind of like Josh and Sierra, or more like you and Sara?” What was the point of this conversation? Thankfully, I didn’t have time to answer; the K2 went bright red near the crosses.

  “We’re in the red now. Midas to Josh.”

  “Josh. Go ahead.”

  “We’re in the red at the monument. Can you see us with this fog?”

  “Clear around the monument. I see you, and I’m recording.”

  The air felt electric, and I was as excited as a kid in a candy store. “Feel this, Cassidy. Put your hand just there.”

  She placed her hand a few inches above mine and gasped. “Wow, it’s freezing. How do you explain that?”

  With a glance over my shoulder, I said, “Could be a cold breeze coming up from the lake. Let’s test that theory.” We moved around a few minutes looking for a draft, but there was nothing to find, and then the cold spot disappeared. The K2 went dead too.

  “Let’s go look at Gosling’s monument. It’s not far, and that’s where the activity started for me the last time,” Cassidy suggested.

  “Good idea.” We walked down the gravel path, and I followed her up a small, sloping hill to a tall angel statue that leaned over a plain gravestone. “Pretty ostentatious for a minister.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Oh, wow. Look at that!” She pointed at my device and waved her flashlight at the word GOSLING. “He wasn’t a very nice man, and for the record, she didn’t kill him. He fell down the stairs.”

  “Tell me about it again,” I encouraged her as I saw the lights ping across the top of the meter. Someone was listening—and responding.

  “Ettawa came to his house. She did
have a knife, and I guess if I saw someone come in my house with a knife, I might feel threatened too….”

  Vet-tu meong ichway…

  “Midas?” Cassidy’s eyes widened, and I saw a panicked expression cross her face.

  “Keep talking and hand me that digital recorder.”

  “Sure, uh…what I saw was…” She gave me the recorder and turned off her flashlight. “Ettawa went upstairs after Gosling went to bed. I think she only wanted to scare him into telling her where they’d stashed Leo. For some reason, she suspected the reverend was in on the kidnapping. They had a war going before any of that happened, and when Justice couldn’t force Ettawa out legally, he asked Gosling for help.”

  Vet-tu meong ichway…vet-tu meong ichway…bee konna vet-tu!

  “That’s her, Midas! She’s coming; I can see the fog moving!”

  “We’re not here to harm you, Ettawa. We want to help you,” I said as I peered into the murky mist that threatened to envelop us.

  With shaking hands, Cassidy flicked on the flashlight, and for a second I could swear I saw someone’s bare feet and the hem of a dirty gown, but then the image vanished as quickly as it appeared.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Yes, and I want to go now, Midas. I want to get out of here.” Cassidy backed away, still pointing her flashlight in the direction where I’d seen the footsteps.

  “This is why we came, Cassidy.”

  “I want to go, Midas. I don’t feel…normal.” Her eyes were wide with fear. We’d investigated together before, and I’d never known her to freak out, even when dealing with ghosts directly. She was kind of a ghost magnet.

  “What is it? Talk to me. How do you feel?”

  She suddenly fell to her knees and clutched her stomach. “Oh God, it hurts. It hurts so bad.”

  “Cassidy?” I squatted down beside her and looked at her face. She was clearly in pain, her pupils dilated, her breathing fast.

  Vet-tu meong ichway…vet-tu meong ichway…bee konna vet-tu!

  I clicked on the walkie-talkie. “Midas for Sierra.”

  “Sierra. Go ahead.”

  “I need help. I need to get Cassidy back to the van. Something’s wrong. We’re at Gosling’s memorial.” I swore as the fog swirled around us. It was like someone was manipulating it, trying to trap us with it. “What you’re doing to my friend isn’t right, Ettawa. She wants to help you. Stop this!”

  Vet-tu meong ichway…

  Cassidy gasped and reached for my hand. “I’ll be okay. Oh, God. It’s like someone is stabbing me in the gut. I can hardly breathe.”

  “Can you get up?” I asked, shoving the K2 in my back pocket along with the digital recorder.

  “I don’t know. Someone is coming! Tell me you hear that!”

  The fog swirled again, and a tall figure stepped out. It was Josh! “Hey, let me help,” he said. “You all right, Cassidy?”

  “No, but you shouldn’t be here, Joshua. She’s coming!”

  “Stop with the BS. Here, let’s get you up and…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, a hand came out of the fog and grabbed him by the shoulder. I could see the dark skin, the many gold rings, the sharp fingernails. It was Ettawa Maybee! As quick as lightning, Ettawa dragged Joshua into the fog. We heard his muffled scream as they disappeared.

  Leaving Cassidy for a second, I ran after him. I could see his feet ahead of me. This thing, whatever it was, continued to drag him through the cemetery.

  “Stop! Now! In the name of God!” I had no idea why I added that, but she released her hold on him. He fell to the ground and immediately climbed to his feet and ran toward me.

  “Run, Josh!” We ran back toward Cassidy. I’d left her near the Gosling monument, but she was nowhere to be found. “Cassidy!”

  “Sierra to Midas,” Sierra called on the walkie.

  “Midas. Go ahead.”

  “I’ve got Cassidy. We’re headed back to the van. I heard screaming…are you guys all right?”

  “Yeah, we’re on the way back now. See you in five.”

  We ran like lunatics to the van. When we got there, Josh sat on the bumper and tried to catch his breath. “Man, that’s some weird crap going on in here. I think that’s the first time anything ever grabbed me.”

  “Yeah, it’s not a good feeling, but what a rush, huh?” I said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Not really,” Josh said without any trace of his typical I-don’t-care attitude. “You okay, Cassidy?”

  “I swear I’m fine, just some stomach pain. I’ve never had that happen before. I’m sorry, y’all. I’m feeling better. It hit me all of a sudden.”

  Bob frowned nervously. “Should we call it a night?”

  “No, you can’t,” Cassidy spoke up. “I mean, I’m okay.”

  “I think we’ve all had enough for one night, Cassidy. I can’t put anyone back in there. That place is too hot for us right now.”

  “But we haven’t found Leo.”

  “It may be that we never find him. I think we got what we came for, proof that Ettawa is lurking around and that she’d love nothing more than to get her hands on Josh,” Sierra cautioned.

  I didn’t point out that she already had.

  Chapter Eleven—Cassidy

  Tossing my purse and keys on the entry table, I strolled to my newest canvas while tying my hair up in a bun. The fog had wreaked havoc on my straightening job—I don’t know why I even bothered. I took in the scene and hoped I’d experience that familiar compulsion to add details, perhaps something I’d missed before. No such luck. But, by faith, I mixed browns together and held the brush in my hand. Dipping the brush in the water, I moved closer and studied Ettawa’s expression.

  “Ettawa, why did you attack Joshua and Sierra? Don’t you understand that I wanted to help you? How are you ever going to find Leo without help? My friend Joshua has nothing to do with any of this. He’s not Quincy; he’s a good guy.” I tapped on the paint palette with my damp paintbrush, but still, no answer came. There wasn’t much to do besides fixing the smudged spot in the lower right-hand corner.

  Brush, rub, brush…

  Nothing else to add except maybe some intensity to her riveting eyes. Yes, Ettawa’s eyes were much more intense than what I’d first painted. Dabbing on a bit more black paint, I brushed the rims of her eyes in an attempt to portray her abject suffering. Such an unhappy life.

  Except for Leo. I thought about him, his round face, his eager, trusting eyes, his playful laugh. How much he had liked playing with animals. He was one to catch a rabbit for his Mama, but not to eat. He would find them, show them to her and set them free. He would never eat a rabbit. He would eat a chicken or a goat, even a baby goat, but never a rabbit. And she couldn’t kill a rabbit either, not even when a rabbit’s foot was required to reverse a person’s sour luck. Yes, Leo loved his rabbits, but he’d had to leave them all behind when Quincy forced them out of Red Hill. How the boy had cried and pleaded for his Mama to ask Quincy if he could bring Velvet with him. She told him she would, but that was a lie. She would never ask Quincy for that rabbit or anything. She had lied to Leo before, but she couldn’t beg, not for a rabbit. Not for anything.

  Mama?

  I froze with my brush in mid stroke. I heard the boy’s voice! I heard Leo. But he wasn’t even in this picture. Was he? Did he belong in it? I stared at the portrait while my ears perked up.

  “Leo?” I called. “Are you here? Do you see your Mama’s picture?” My hand shook now. Oh, how I wanted to put his face in the painting. Give me a clue, Leo! Tell me where you are!

  Mama? I gasped and spun around the room. Yes, he was nearby. I had to try and communicate with him. I considered picking up the digital recorder, but that would mean digging through my purse, leaving the painting and possibly breaking the tentative connection I had with my ghostly visitor.

  “We have to stop her, Leo. Your Mama is hurting people because she can’t find you. Won’t you help me? Help
me, Leo.” I heard nothing else. Nothing except the slow, squeaking sound coming from my bathroom door handle.

  Fear prickled up my arms as if someone had rubbed an ice cube on my skin, but I swallowed my fear. I didn’t race into the bathroom to see who was in there. I knew who had come to visit me. But why the bathroom? “Leo? I’m out here. Can you come out here?” Sierra had warned me about interacting with spirits in my home, but I hadn’t started this exchange.

  Now the hair all over my body crept up, and the feeling of dread surged to new, disturbing levels. Poking the paintbrush in the empty pickle jar of water, I watched the color change as I swirled it about nervously. Stay focused, act normal…

  And then I heard water running in my bathtub. The claw-foot bathtub was one of the features that had sold me on this place. Yes, I could hear the water running hard and fast out of the faucet. Walking slowly into the supposedly empty room, I stopped to turn on a lamp. The water didn’t stop.

  Holding my breath, I pushed the door open. I could feel the electricity surging through me like I was standing in an electrical storm holding a metal rod. I was about to get hit—and hard.

  “Who’s in here? Leo? Ettawa?”

  I tiptoed to the bathtub and leaned over to turn off the water faucets before the tub overflowed. It was a struggle, as if someone were fighting me and twisting the knobs in the other direction. I cried out in horror, unable to say anything coherent. Finally, with a gasp, I managed to turn the water off. Panting for breath, I leaned back against the commode to wrap my head around what was happening.

  That’s when I saw him. The boy.

  Leo Justice lay at the bottom of the tub, his once-hopeful eyes dead and staring at some fixed point beyond me. I stared, unsure what to do. A single bubble emerged from his mouth, and I screamed for my life.

  Then everything changed. I wasn’t in my bathroom anymore. I was at Ettawa’s shack. I was Ettawa.

  Things were about to get much worse.

  Chapter Twelve—Ettawa

  The shack had visitors, and not the kind who came to pay their respects to the Voodoo Queen of Mobile. These were angry, yapping hound dogs searching for a murderer—or a murderess. Ettawa scurried up the tree as fast as her sturdy brown legs would allow her. It wouldn’t keep them dogs away for long, but she had a secret weapon. Squirreled away in her skirts was a kitten. Miss Miss, her faithful cat, had delivered two loud kittens the morning life turned so bad for Ettawa and Leo. She didn’t smother the kitten, but she would keep its meows to a minimum until just the right time.

 

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