Ghosted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 1)

by M. L. Bullock

  “I wouldn’t think so, but how can you be sure? It’s your house. I can see why you said bring the camera…I’d like to take pictures before you paint over it.” I turned Cassidy’s empty chair around and took a seat. “This is really something.”

  “Josh, don’t do anything hasty. She said she’d make it right, and I believe her. And what happens if you do paint over it before we figure out what this means? That could also be dangerous.”

  “It’s damn creepy. Wait. What do you mean dangerous?”

  Sierra shrugged and pulled off her blue jean jacket. “The last time she painted something like this, it really helped us figure out what to do at Oak Grove. She’s got a gift, and she’s obviously meant to be with us.”

  “You’re joking. That was just a fluke. Pure luck. Right, Midas?”

  I stared at the image and thought about Cassidy. About the whole strange thing. Sierra was right. Cassidy was supposed to be with us. There was no way she could know about the new client—or the old one, for that matter. Someone was orchestrating all this. We were supposed to be working together. And she needed us.

  Sara’s words rang in my ears: You need a project, Midas. You like being the rescuer. To hell with her. So what if Cassidy needed me?

  “Little Sister is right. No way could Cassidy know about the phone call I got today. Sierra didn’t know either until late this morning, so she couldn’t have told her. We either help her or we don’t. I say we do. What about you two? We’re basically all that’s left of GCP. If we bring in Cassidy, that makes four, but we still don’t have the recording stuff covered. I could talk to Jack and ask him to fill in on that end until we have someone permanently.”

  Sierra frowned at the mention of Jack’s name. For some reason, the two didn’t get along. “Yes to Cassidy. No to Jack, if I actually have a choice.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Josh sighed and shook his head. “Yes to both, but I’m not happy about this artwork. I’ll go get the camera out of the truck.”

  “Just use ours, sweetie.”

  “It sucks, and I need a minute to think. Be back in a minute.”

  Josh was clearly ticked off, but he wasn’t so ticked that he was going to fight the both of us. “Really? Jack?” Sierra said in a disgusted tone.

  “What do you have against him, Sierra? Give me one good reason not to bring him in—at least part time.”

  She shook her head and sighed. “You don’t want to know. Believe me. Don’t you have enough to think about?”

  I pushed the chair away and hugged her neck. “Yeah. I do. Don’t add yourself to my list.”

  With one last glance at the disturbing painting, I left the McBrides to figure out what to do with the life-size painting of the mystery woman. On my way out I made the call.

  Gulf Coast Paranormal was back in action. If Sara managed to tempt Sierra and Josh away, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t going to help her out and put stars in their eyes. For now, we’d do what we always did. We’d work our cases and investigate the paranormal.

  Somehow this would all work out.

  Chapter Three—Cassidy

  After a long shower, I decided to drown my sorrows in white wine and ’80s music. I had one simple job to do, paint a boring mural on Sierra’s blank wall—and I blew it. My visions weren’t getting better; they were threatening to take over my life. How was I going to trust myself to leave the house? Maybe I should stop trying. Just hole up here and order takeout and household supplies from the internet.

  Yeah, that’s a strategy.

  What was I going to do about this? I’d left the McBrides’ home two hours ago, and Sierra had called twice. When I didn’t answer she left a sweet, patient message. “Cassidy, pick up the phone. You can’t hide from this, and you’re not alone. Let’s talk. Okay?” I did plan on calling her back, just not yet.

  And then Midas called. My hand shook as I pressed the mute button. Maybe I should pick up? Nope. Couldn’t do it. I’d wait five minutes and listen. What could he say? I turned to the one person who might understand—Kylie. I pulled the sheet off the canvas and stared at her sweet face, my half-empty glass in my hand. I touched her cheek. The paint felt smooth and cool under my fingers. I rubbed my fingers along the edges of the water tower too but saw and felt nothing. A whole month had gone by, and I’d added nothing else.

  “Kylie, where are you? Please tell me where to look.” Then I heard something like a bump—at my door. “Kylie?”

  A sharp knock surprised the heck out of me. I jumped and sloshed wine on the floor. “Crap! Coming!” I put the glass down on the side table, grabbed a nearby paint rag and wiped up the liquid, and then hid the cloth in the kitchen. Then I went to see who was invading my space. It had better not be Mike. The way I felt, I’d punch him right in the face.

  I looked through the peephole and could hardly believe it. It was Midas.

  I leaned my back against the door. I couldn’t ignore him. I’d already shouted, “Coming!” I unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

  “Hi,” I said as I pulled my oversized denim shirt tighter. After my shower I had pulled it on, half thinking I might paint. I was glad I’d put on some tights too.

  “Hi. I was in the neighborhood and thought, ‘Cassidy needs a pet.’”

  “A pet? What?” I laughed. Midas pulled a bag from behind his back. Inside was a bright orange goldfish with puffy cheeks and nervous eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “I found him in the hallway. Figured he must be a stray. And by the looks of him I’d say he needs some air. Either that or an ophthalmologist. Look at those eyes!” What the heck was this about? The wine made me lightheaded, and now the guy I’d been crushing on was standing at my doorway with a fish in his hand. “Did I mention he’s free to a good home?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh some more at the totally ridiculous scenario. “Sure. I have a bad habit of taking in strays. Why stop now? You might as well bring him in. But I’m not sure he can stay. I don’t have any spare goldfish equipment. And if he’s a troublemaker or chews my slippers, he’s out.”

  “You’re in luck. I just so happened to find this bag next to him. Looks like there’s everything you need in it. And I have it on good authority that he doesn’t have a shoe fetish.” He smiled, flashing his beautiful white teeth. I liked knowing that he had a sense of humor. I didn’t know him all that well, but I could already tell a few things about him.

  Like he was fiercely loyal to his friends, had a great work ethic and loved his family. And now I knew he was kind of a jokester.

  “Well, I guess he can stay.” I opened the door and let Midas and his “stray” goldfish in. “Tell me the truth, though,” I said as I closed and locked the door behind him, “is this something you do all the time? Show up at ladies’ homes with goldfish?”

  He didn’t answer but gave me a half grin. “Where should we put him?”

  I patted the counter. “How about here? Unless he needs sunlight or something.”

  “I think this would be great, Cassidy. Let’s set the tank up and let him acclimate.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but okay. How about I get to know Thurston while you set everything up? I wasn’t joking. I have no idea how to take care of a fish.”

  “Thurston, huh? From Gilligan’s Island? Isn’t that show a bit before your time?”

  “I like the name. He looks so proper for a fish. I think Thurston is a great name.”

  “It’s better than Goldie. That’s all I could come up with. But I’ve already told you I’m not that creative.”

  I leaned forward on the bar and poked Thurston’s clear plastic bag. “Well, dude. I’ve been told I’m not a great roommate. I hope you know what you’re in for.”

  I watched Midas fill up the tank and put the bag in the water. “He’ll need to stay in the bag for a few hours. Then we can let him explore his new environment.”

  “Why? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Who knew fish
were so complicated?” I laughed as I grabbed two bottles of water out of the refrigerator. I guess now was as good a time as any to lay off the wine. At least until Midas left. I offered him one and he accepted. “Really…why did you bring me a fish? Do I look like a fish person?”

  Midas sat on the barstool next to me, cracking open his water bottle and taking a long drink before answering me. “You need something to take care of. You’re a nurturer, Cassidy. I see it all over you.”

  I felt my cheeks burn. “What do you mean?”

  He glanced at Kylie’s picture. “It took an entire art class to fill the empty spot she left behind. That class made you happy. Now it’s gone. And although you’re trying to get a handle on your visions, you still need to care for something or someone.” A hot tear rolled down my cheek. I could hardly believe it. Why was I always crying when he was around? “One fish won’t fill the void, but having someone depending on you will help. Believe me.” He pulled a tissue out of the box on the counter and handed it to me.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I know how it feels to lose someone. To wonder every day what you could have done differently, something that might have changed the outcome.”

  I stared at him in surprise. “You lost someone too?”

  “Yeah, but we found him. It was too late for my cousin Dominic, but it’s not too late for Kylie. People get found every day. They come home all the time. You just have to keep the faith—and keep looking. You can’t hide out here and give up.”

  “What about Melissa? Nobody helped her.”

  “You can’t think like that.”

  “What am I going to do, Midas? This is getting out of hand. I went to Sierra’s to paint a mural and ended up having a vision. What happens if I’m on a bus? Or visiting a museum? How do I control this?”

  “I’m no expert, but I’d say by being more open. More intentional. You have to carve out time to let those visions be expressed. Be ready to paint, and don’t run from it. Embrace it. Stop acting as if you have something to be embarrassed about. Lots of people would love to have your ability. Put it to good use.”

  “Why are you so kind to me? You barely know me. Not that I’m ungrateful.”

  He stood up and put the lid on his bottle. “Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I just want to do something nice for someone. It’s not a strange idea, is it?”

  “I think it is. At least it has been in my world.”

  “That needs to change, Cassidy. Listen, I’ve got to go. I have to meet a new client, but the team is getting together tonight for supper. I’m cooking spaghetti with Papa Angelos at Demeter’s. It’s at seven o’clock.”

  “I thought Demeter’s was just a coffee shop,” I said as I trailed behind him to the door.

  “Once a month he closes early and cooks spaghetti or penne or whatever tickles his fancy. He loves it, and I like cooking for my team. It’s kind of like a GCP tradition. A very tasty one.”

  I grinned at him as he hung in the doorway. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll think about it. I’ll have to check with my roommate first.” His puzzled expression left me feeling bad. “Thurston.”

  He smiled softly. “All right.” He paused again, and I thought maybe he’d hug me, or kiss me, or something. But it didn’t happen. “Oh yeah. Check the bag. There’s one more thing in there. It’s yours if you want it. And that’s true whether you come tonight or not. You’ve earned it.”

  “Okay.” I watched him disappear down the hall and head for the elevator. Mrs. Peterson stepped outside to pretend she heard someone knocking on her door. She wished someone as handsome as Midas Demopolis would come a-calling! I rolled my eyes as I turned to walk back inside.

  I couldn’t wait to see what Midas had left me. I reached in the bag and found the gift. It was my own Gulf Coast Paranormal t-shirt, solid black with bright red lettering, just like Sierra’s. This wasn’t just a nice present. Not like the fish. This was an offer. Midas wanted me to be part of the team, and to my surprise I never questioned whether I should be. I knew I should. And I was.

  With a big smile on my face, I scurried off to my bedroom to try on my new gear. It was a little big but looked great with my skinny blue jeans. A few hours later I was waving goodbye to Thurston as I headed out for dinner at Demeter’s.

  Things were looking up for a change. It was about time.

  Chapter Four—Midas

  Papa Angelos didn’t wait for me to come inside. As always, he behaved as if he’d not seen me in years, despite the fact I was in here for coffee just yesterday. He wrapped his wiry arms around me and squeezed me as if I were a Prodigal Son returning home after a year away. “There he is! The handsomest Demopolis boy ever born! Come in here, Midas Lucas. Let me see how much you look like me!” He opened the door for me, and I carried in the promised crate of wine.

  “He does not look like you at all, Papa. You look like an old warthog. Heya, Midas. Good to see you.” My cousin Dimitri hadn’t changed a bit. He was tall and swarthy with olive-colored skin and black olive eyes. He’d never quite outgrown his teenage skin problems, but the ladies didn’t seem to care. He was a self-professed “chick magnet.” It was probably the expensive cologne, shiny clothes and flashy ways that attracted the women. If anyone ever lived outside their decade, it was Dimitri. He truly belonged in another time.

  I wondered why he was here; he didn’t usually come to these monthly meals. I tried not to be suspicious. I sure as heck hoped he wasn’t hitting Papa up for money. And to think, just a few hours ago I was thinking about his brother, Dominic, who’d been my closest friend growing up.

  “Hey, D. Good to see you.” I knew Dimitri didn’t blame me for what happened. No one did, not openly. Except for my Aunt Portia, who never cared for any of the Demopolis men. Even the one she married.

  “Your father told my father that you’re going into the family business. Are you working with my father or yours? Because quite frankly, I never saw you as the corporate type. Now my dad, he’s salt of the earth, Midas. He’ll give you a good day’s work for a good day’s pay.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Dimitri wouldn’t know a good day’s work if it hit him in the face.

  Papa Angelos overheard Dimitri and scolded him, “Hey, none of that tonight. No talking of business. It’s a time for family and friends. Not business. And leave the boy alone; he is doing what he loves.”

  “Chasing ghosts, Papa? Do you think that’s what he should be doing? He’s hardly a boy.”

  Our grandfather shook his head. “Go take off that expensive jacket and chop the bag of onions in the kitchen.”

  “Fine.” Dimitri waved his hand dismissively at our grandfather but was careful not to be too disrespectful. He’d catch it from his father if he were.

  “Where do you want me, Papa?”

  “You make sure all the plates are clean and ready. Stack them up there.”

  “Papa, you should never have closed the diner. Mama loved that place—and so did you.” I took a plain white plate and began polishing it. I set it carefully on the bar and continued my work.

  “Your Papa is too old to do all that work himself. No. It’s time to give this place to a younger man. One who will take care of it and love it like I did. You know anyone like that?” I turned beet red under my tan skin. He was offering me the diner-turned-coffee shop, in a roundabout way. I didn’t know what to say to that. It was flattering, but it wasn’t for me. Besides, half of our extensive family would object. Demeter’s was a landmark in Mobile, and who could replace Papa Angelos?

  “Oh, I tease you, Midas.” He patted my shoulder. “You are doing what you think is best. I understand that. But if you ever change your mind, you tell me.” Papa’s white hair flickered bright under the lights. He looked around the near empty coffee shop. “Do you need some money, son? For your business?”

  “No, I’m fine, Papa. I have money.”

  “You know Sara called me the other day. She said, ‘Papa Angelos! You must talk t
o Midas; he has to listen to me. The television network will give him so much money if he will come out here.’ She said you were in trouble. That you might lose everything.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa. I wish she hadn’t gotten you involved in my business.”

  “I told her no! Your place was here and that I would help you if I needed to. I never liked that girl. Not even when she was nice to you, which was not for very long. She is not the kind of woman you should marry. Oh, but she wanted to marry you, didn’t she, Midas Lucas? And why not? You should marry—just not her.”

  It was my turn to good-naturedly wave him away now. “There you go meddling, Papa Angelos. I have no intentions to marry anytime soon.”

  Fortunately for me, Papa and I were speaking Greek when Cassidy walked in. She was an hour early but ready to help. “I’m bored, and I couldn’t wait for you to see my shirt. Thank you for my gift! Both of them. I never knew I needed a fish, but apparently I do. He’s still alive, by the way. As far as GCP goes, I say yes to the adventure! I’m in.”

  Before I could answer her, Papa Angelos broke into the conversation—in Greek, naturally. At least I didn’t have to die of embarrassment in front of my volunteer. “You should marry this girl, Midas! She’s the one!”

  “Papa, we’re not getting married.” And I didn’t know why, but I added, “I haven’t even asked her on a date yet.”

  He scratched his head. “What are you waiting for, Midas? You want me to ask her for you?”

  “No, thank you, Papa.” I smiled at Cassidy, who looked puzzled.

  “Did I hear you say you were going to ask me out on a date?”

  “You speak Greek?” I asked her, hardly believing that could be true. It couldn’t be, right?

  “I traveled abroad for a while after college, until Kylie disappeared. So yeah, I know a little. One of my traveling mates was Greek. She took pride in her language and culture and insisted that I learn it too. It was a blast. I admit I’m a bit rusty, but…I clearly heard the word ‘date.’”