Moody & The Ghost - Books 1-4 (Moody Mysteries)

by Kim Hornsby

  “Bryndle, Evelyn, Everyone! Ron has arrived!” my mother trilled from the foyer like we were all supposed to run out of our respective rooms and greet the weekend guest with a choreographed song and dance like in The Sound of Music.

  I was working in the den, talking to Carlos about our next case, a haunted hotel in Portland, Oregon, we would visit on Monday night. I considered getting up and tapping my way to the foyer with my cane, but then thought it would be easier for the sighted people to come to me. Blindness had some privileges. Not many, but a few. “I’m in here,” I yelled. “Now would be a good time, Caspian,” I whispered to the space in front of my face. I wanted to see my mother’s latest conquest and if Caspian showed up, I’d finally be able to.

  “How long has it been since you saw Caspian?” Carlos whispered nearby. I’d forgotten my tech guy was so close.

  “Four days, twelve hours and fifty-eight minutes,” I answered. I wasn’t sure about the minutes unless I asked my phone what time it was but added them for impact. I was all about the drama and effect, and that’s what made me perfect for having a successful YouTube show. I was a performer as much as a medium.

  I stood and found my way around to the front of the desk as the happy couple entered the room and closed in on me. “Hello, Ron. Welcome.” I stuck out my hand knowing Ron was within ten feet. He took my hand, covered it with his other and pulled me in for a hug. I’d forgotten that Rachel said he was a hugger, something I was not.

  “Bryndle, nice to see you again,” he said.

  Ron smelled like very expensive cologne and I immediately wondered if he was on the take.

  “Nice to see you too,” I said, just to make him uncomfortable for using that terminology. “Did you have any trouble finding the house?”

  “None at all. The address is on Google Maps. This is quite a place you inherited.” He was nervous, something that made me happy, because I was not.

  I attempted to look at his face, just above where the words were coming from.

  “Isn’t it? Rachel will have to give you the tour. This is Carlos, my technical assistant,” I waved in the direction of Carlos’s asthmatic breathing.

  The men shook hands or did something I assumed was shaking hands judging by the shuffling and grunting hello.

  “Your mother tells me that you’re working on a case in this house,” Ron said. “A murder.”

  Oh, now Rachel was really in trouble. I tried to shoot her one of my looks that says I’ll deal with you later, but I had no idea where she was. The whole room smelled like White Diamonds now. “We’re not sure if it was a murder but yes, there’s an ongoing paranormal investigation in the house. Don’t worry about disturbing the crime scene though, because this crime was one hundred and seventy years ago.” I laughed at my cop joke.

  Ron chuckled, and I located my mother when she giggled with him. “I’ll leave the fingerprinting kit in my car,” he said.

  “Yes, do. Unless you want to check my mother for priors.” It was one of my faults that I thrived on messing with people. Rachel had a few visits to the police station on her record and I wondered if Ron knew that. Before the thought of fingerprinting my mother set in Ron’s mind I continued. “Would you like to sit and have a cup of tea or coffee by the fire,?” I asked to change the subject. I didn’t want to talk to Ron about Caspian’s death or the other ghosts in the house who’d all presumably died on the property and I was buying time.

  “I’m going to show Ron around first,” my mother said in a girlishly high voice. “We’ll round back here eventually.” I could tell she was upset about my crack about her having priors.

  “Catch you later,” I said.

  They didn’t want to sit and talk first thing. I wasn’t expected to entertain him or talk to him about Mrs. G’s death. Not quite yet. The two lovebirds left the room but the scent of my mother in love lingered. Now that my sixth sense was operating in full capacity I was left with several concepts as Rachel and Ron talked their way across the foyer. One was that my mother was head over heels for this man and the other was that Ron was keeping her at bay, harboring a big secret from her, something he was guarding very carefully.

  “He’s got a secret,” I said to Carlos forgetting that I hadn’t told anyone that Caspian somehow had restored my abilities.

  Carlos chuckled. “He’s a cop. I’m sure he has lots.”

  ***

  When Eve and Jimmy Big Ears returned from town with groceries, there was more giggling. Now Eve was giggling, and I sensed that love was in the air between my cousin and Carlos’s childhood friend who had abnormally large earlobes.

  Weeks ago, when we first brought Jimmy in to help with my archenemy, Bane Jackson, the paranormal debunker, Eve had alluded to Jimmy being attractive if it wasn’t for the ears. And recently, I’d become aware that she’d developed some sort of friendship with Jimmy. For the twentieth time that day, I was wishing I had eyesight to pick up on all those little clues and nuances that eluded me without seeing them together. I could hear them putting groceries away and the fridge door opening and closing from two rooms away, the kitchen like an echo chamber that amplified conversations throughout the house.

  I found my way across the foyer and to the hall to inquire about dinner. And to do a little eavesdropping. TapTap took me along as I sang. “I’m running down the road trying to loosen a toad with several women on my mind, four who wanna tone me, two who won a Sony, one says Pete’s a friend of mine.”

  I tapped the last few bars of music to the doorway. “Did we make a plan for dinner tonight?” I was sure that something was on the menu if they went to town for groceries.

  “Jimmy and I are going to attempt to make his grandmother’s recipe, Chicken Parmesan. I say attempt because I totally suck in the kitchen, news flash, but I’m hoping Jimmy’s Italian kitchen skills will balance me out.” Yes, they were definitely flirty and fun around each other. Unlike Rachel, I was happy for Eve.

  I leaned against the doorjamb and tried to look casual. “That sounds fantastic. I love Chicken Parm. BTW, Ron has arrived and judging from his hug, he’s a big guy and might eat a lot.”

  “We crossed paths on the way in. They went to the beach to make a sandcastle or something,” Eve said.

  “Did they take Hodor?” I hadn’t heard my dog’s nails clicking on the floor recently.

  “They did,” Jimmy offered. “When your mother grabbed her coat, Hodor raced to the door.”

  I couldn’t help but remember a time last week, walking with Caspian on the beach below the cliff. I could still see him throwing sticks for Hodor as if he was a neighbor who’d dropped by on his way to a costume party wearing old-timey garb. Of course, Hodor couldn’t see who was throwing the sticks and didn’t care. As far as he knew, the sticks were levitating and throwing themselves into the sea and down the beach.

  So much had happened since then, including a kiss followed by Caspian’s disappearance. Remember me, he’d said. Words that now haunted me for several reasons.

  What did it mean?

  Was I supposed to keep the dream alive during Caspian’s absence, or was I supposed to dig deep into my memory and try to remember something about Caspian from the days I met him as a child? Those two words could mean lots of things and these days, I felt sort of tormented in trying to figure out the mystery. Did Caspian know he was disappearing and might never come back when he uttered the words? I might never know if he didn’t return. It hadn’t been weeks, but since I met Caspian, he’d shown up regularly. And then he hadn’t.

  Now that my mother had moved to another bedroom, my plan was to sit by the fireplace in my bedroom tonight, trying to summon Caspian. That, or walk around the house in the dark, then up to the third floor where I first caught sight of the sea captain skulking around doorways to remain undetected. If I had to sit there every night waiting and hoping, I would, but damn, that would be boring.

  Remember me.

  There was no way I wouldn’t remember Caspian, even if he�
��d vanished, never to return. And it wasn’t necessarily the kiss that I’d remember. It was the overwhelming feeling that I knew Caspian better than our short relationship in Cove House suggested. Was that what I was supposed to remember? I imagined Caspian returning to laugh and tell me that he’d merely wanted me to think of him between visits.

  “Bryn?” Eve’s voice broke through my daydream. “Did you hear me say that Mrs. Hightower is coming to tea in an hour?”

  I hadn’t heard. I’d called Joan several times since she went running out of the house at our haunted dinner party last week, but she hadn’t called back. When Eve said she was headed to town to grocery shop earlier, I’d asked her to drop in on the museum curator to see if Joan would attempt another visit. Give us yet another chance. “Tell her this time,” I said to Eve, “to come during the day.” Although ghosts prefer the dead of night, the ones in this house--Caspian and his wife, Jacqueline--also materialized during the daylight hours leaving me to believe that Cove House, or Spook Central, as I liked to think of it, was a round-the-clock, 24/7 ghostly hang out.

  “Tea with Joan sounds good,” I said. I had questions for Joan Hightower today and if I got closer to getting some answers, I just might be able to lure Caspian back to this world with information about how he died.

  Chapter 3

  It was almost better I couldn’t see Joan Hightower when she stepped inside Spook Central. Even saying hello, Joan sounded like she believed I might eat her alive at any moment. Her voice quivered when I asked if she’d like tea in the den or the salon.

  “The den will be fine,” she whispered nervously. The last time Joan visited, the piano had played itself under the hands of Eve who was inhabited by the ghost of Jacqueline and although I wasn’t present at the concert, I heard the clicking of Joan’s heels as she made a hurried exit for the door.

  I led the way to the den, TapTap sweeping arcs in front to alert me to all sorts of things as well as obstacles. Joan was silent as she followed me to the den. I, on the other hand, had a new song to tap out quietly so Joan wouldn’t hear.

  “I remember when rock was young, feelin’ boozy and had some fun, singing songs and skippin’ stones, had a no top Chevy and some plates of my own.” I’d always loved Elton John.

  Once seated in front of the now dying fire, I felt an apology was in order. I wanted to get to down to business as quickly as possible because Joan was usually good for five minutes tops before she got spooked and ran for the door. “I’m sorry you had to see Eve possessed by Jacqueline last time you were here.”

  Joan cleared her throat. “It gave me nightmares for a week after. I’ve never seen someone possessed before.”

  A laugh escaped my mouth. “Most people haven’t. In my business, it’s a regular occurrence. But I’m sure it was frightening for you. Soon after you left, I came downstairs, realized what was going on, and asked Jaqueline, the ghost, to leave Eve’s body.” I felt like I owed Joan a better explanation about Caspian and his contribution to everyday life around here. After all, she had originally spilled that I was looking for a handsome dude, according to her BFF and former owner of this house, Belinda McMahon. “Joan,” I said carefully. “I know all this supernatural stuff scares you, but I feel I should tell you that I’ve been in touch with the ghost I’m asking you to research. Captain Caspian Cortez is the handsome man Belinda wanted me to contact. I’m sure of that.”

  “You’ve spoken to him?” Joan’s voice was cautious, whispery.

  Eve set the tea tray on the table beside me and handed me a mug.

  “Many times,” I said. “He appears before me and, miraculously, I can see him. I can see everything when Caspian is nearby. Not through my eyes, but with my psychic abilities. We’ve had many conversations about his life in this house. And about Belinda.” I paused wishing I could see Joan’s expression. Were her eyes bugging out of her head? Was she smirking? I missed so much without eyesight.

  “He and Belinda were very close when she was younger.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. I had to tread carefully with the historian. I knew the relationship between Belinda and Caspian had involved admiration and love. “Did they grow apart?”

  “Mercy no. But it became more difficult for her to see him as she got older, I believe.”

  This was interesting. “Did she think it was caused by anything in particular?” I kept my voice light and casual as if the answer wouldn’t change everything.

  “Perhaps she once mentioned to me that he was fading from this world.”

  “About to cross over?” I knew this kind of talk was troubling to Joan. I could feel her hesitance. She didn’t need to speak for me to know the answer was no.

  “I don’t know,” she lied. “She didn’t say.”

  I wasn’t sure why Joan wouldn’t confirm that Belinda was concerned Caspian was fading away to nothingness. I suspected she didn’t think it was the good kind of leaving, the one where a ghost happily says adios and crosses over, never to haunt his world again. “I’ve had many conversations with Captain Cortez and he does fade away and stays away unwillingly. I haven’t seen or heard from him for days and that’s unusual. I often see him every day.”

  Joan’s intake of air told me she was concerned. It was a small gasp but enough to make me pursue the questioning.

  “What do you make of that?”

  “Has he asked you for anything?” Joan’s voice was high, a sure sign that she was trying very hard to mask something.

  “He’s asked me to find his bones and bury them so he can move on.” I laid it all out on the table seeing Joan was withholding information I might need. I waited for her to speak. And waited. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Did he ask that of Belinda?”

  “No.” Joan’s answer was too quick, too definite then she backtracked. “I don’t think so, anyhow.”

  “I wonder why he asked me?” Now, I was very curious.

  “I’m sure I don’t know. Belinda said in the last ten years he was often gone for weeks at a time and near the end of her life, he was gone for months. When she died, she hadn’t seen Caspian for over a year.”

  This was terrible news to a gal who depended on the dude for vision. And had a hankering for the manly man who’d kissed me. I gulped down a lump of disappointment and changed the subject, slightly. “It’s a very active house. The ghost who inhabited Eve was a woman named Jacqueline who once lived in this house.”

  “I believe that was the ghost who killed your sea captain.”

  “Why do you say that?” Did Joan know the blood on the wall upstairs had been Caspian’s?

  “Belinda once told me that Jacqueline stabbed him.” Joan said this so quietly, I could barely hear the words.

  She was obviously scared of the mean ghost who had been married to Caspian. I tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Jacqueline has never been seen or heard in this room, if that makes you feel any safer. And, yes, Caspian was indeed stabbed in the bedroom with the mural, but he recovered from that wound. Jacqueline was not successful in her late-night murder attempt.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes, he did. Do you think it’s a lie?”

  Joan cleared her throat. “I don’t know. It’s just that Belinda thought he died by her hand. Do you know why she tried to kill him?”

  This was good, Joan asking questions. Up until now, her interest in our captain was bordering on only slightly forthcoming and barely curious, but this question came out of her with a deep need to know the answer. If Joan was interested, she’d be more likely to help me track down information. “I believe Jacqueline discovered that Caspian was going to expose her boyfriend as a smuggler.” I continued. “Alexander Stevens was Jaqueline’s lover and also head of the shipping company Caspian worked for.”

  “Yes, I was going to tell you that Stevens was involved. Do you think that Captain Cortez was also a smuggler?” Joan sat forward in her chair, staring at my face. I didn’t know this because my vision had mi
raculously returned. No. I knew this through my clairvoyance. I sensed she was on the edge of her seat, her eyes fixed on me.

  “He’s adamant he was not and seems indignant if I suggest it. According to the sea captain, he sailed along the western coast and once to Hawaii with cargo, none of which was illegal.”

  Joan cleared her throat, noisily. “He was probably delivering timber and various goods, picking up more cargo as he dropped off. In those days, the sea captains worked for shipping companies by contract work and sailed mostly from Victoria to San Francisco.”

  I looked towards Joan’s voice and tipped my head wondering whether to risk Joan’s departure with my next question. “As a psychic, I sense that you’re not telling me something Joan, and I wonder what it is.” I crossed my fingers and waited.

  As was her custom, Joan took a few sips of her tea and stood quickly to announce her departure. “That’s all I know. Caspian worked for Stevens. Time for me to go. Thank you for the tea.”

  Damn. I wish just once this woman came over when Caspian was present and I could read her facial expression. I knew that she had information she was guarding very carefully but I could not penetrate her mind to draw out what it was. When she headed out of the room, I grabbed TapTap and started sweeping my way to the door. “Joan, what are you hiding from me? Why do you always run out of here?”

  Her footsteps sounded across the hall tile. “I’ll keep researching. Thank you again for the tea.” Her voice was so cheerful, it was as though I hadn’t just accused her of lying and withholding information.