A Ghostly Ride in Gulfport (Gulf Coast Paranormal Book 10)

by M. L. Bullock

  “Can you tell us what’s been going on?” Midas asked politely.

  “Sure, follow me to the Duck Shoot.” We traveled over the broken pavement, and I scribbled on my notebook as Trenton continued, “People see a shadow here. He’s described as tall and menacing.”

  “Menacing?” I paused my writing. “What do you mean?”

  “This shadow person, I guess that’s what you call it, he steps out from the exterior wall. Right in the path of the person who is walking by, like he doesn’t want you here. That’s what I’m told, anyway. I haven’t seen anything as far as shadows go.”

  “I wonder why he hangs around the Duck Shoot. Or has he been seen all over the park?” Midas asked as he snapped a picture with his phone. “I hope you don’t mind that I grab a few photos. It’s for the team to plan our investigation.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind at all. They say the guy that used to run this particular stand back in the day was a real piece of work, a convicted felon with a lot of violence in his past. In fact, he was one of the people suspected of killing that Pettis kid, but he was cleared. Nobody was ever charged with that boy’s murder.”

  “How did he die?” I asked.

  “That’s also kind of a mystery. Blunt force trauma to the head; his body was found at the carousel, but nobody saw anything and there was no evidence to suggest he was killed there. In fact, the carousel was closed for repairs during that time. The kid was probably killed somewhere else and then dumped there. Like I said, though, the carousel was shut down that night so nobody should have been there.”

  We continued our walk through the creepy corridor of vacant booths and games. “Why was it shut down?”

  “Electricity problems. Whoever installed the electrical system did a piss-poor job, pardon my French. Some attractions weren’t grounded properly, some connections looked like they were put together by toddlers. From the very beginning, the amusement park had issues with the power. Lights flickering, rides stalling.”

  “That doesn’t sound very paranormal,” Midas said with a grin, “but I agree it would be unsettling for most people.”

  Trenton stopped and said, “There’s no power out here now. I never had it turned on; this place has been sitting silent for the entire three years I’ve owned it. But lots of people see lights on in here all the time. I’ve driven by and seen lights on in the midway myself.”

  We were walking to the ride area now. I could see just beyond the rides section were the attractions, and I shivered as I looked at the funhouse. It was covered in creepy clown faces, with the worn paint making it look even more unwelcoming. Dang, that place didn’t look too fun. I borrowed Midas’ phone and took a picture of it to send to Sierra. I needed to prepare her before she came out here—she had a deep and abiding fear of clowns.

  “Could be flashlights, you know, people snooping around, but we’ll check it out.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I believe the security guard. Buddy says that the lights and music were on, that the ride was moving. Again, there shouldn’t be anything moving in here. Come on, I’ll show you what I mean.”

  There was a small dingy-looking building next to the old ticket booth. We stepped inside, and I immediately began waving spider webs away. Trenton removed a small flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at the breaker box. He opened the box, and I tried to hide my surprise. It was empty. “See? Nothing at all. This is the main breaker box. I had everything gutted last year, right after I heard about the lights.”

  “That puts an interesting spin on things. We’ll check that out. What else is happening?” Midas said. I could tell by his tone of voice that we were taking this job. Was there ever any doubt?

  The three of us walked back outside, and I was glad to breathe the fresh air. Or somewhat fresh, at any rate.

  “Besides the phantom music? People say they have seen a child here, a little girl wearing one of those old-fashioned prairie dresses. I can’t understand that at all. People hear growls by the carousel, lots of growling, and there’s some that say they see different-colored orbs bouncing around the funhouse and along the back fence.”

  I scribbled like a maniac as Trenton went on to explain. He was clearly not happy about any of this and seemed really worried. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move, floating. Were those balloons? I turned to get a better look, but they were gone. I swore I saw bright yellow balloons floating up just for a second. Midas didn’t seem to notice anything, and neither did Trenton. I kept quiet but noted it in my book. That was totally weird.

  “What is it you hope we can accomplish here, Trenton?”

  He sighed and closed the door of the ticket booth, then shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and glanced around. “This bit of land has seen so much tragedy. You know some of the histories, about the Pettis boy and all, but there’s more. They found a thousand bodies here when they first began building the park. Apparently, some part of this was a Native American burial ground. The bodies were reinterred somewhere, but nobody seems to know where. Then there were some murders in the 1800s. A family. I don’t know. I guess I want to know if there is anything here or if it’s all just speculation. I have to know. Just for me.”

  Midas reached out to shake Trenton’s hand and said, “We’ll do our best to get you what evidence we can. Can we get started this weekend?”

  “The sooner the better. Suits me fine. Here are the keys, but please, be careful. My insurance company isn’t very happy with me right now.”

  “We always are. Thanks, Trenton. We’ll be in touch.”

  We didn’t talk much as we drove away, but I could tell Midas’ wheels were turning. I didn’t mind his quiet spells. It was just who he was. I reached for my sketch pad and began to draw the balloons I’d seen. Four—no, five of them. Yellow balloons. And other images were coming to me too, a young man with a narrow face and almond-shaped eyes. He had dark fringes for lashes and the stubble of a new beard on his chin. Yeah, he was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen? Midas answered his phone, and I half-listened as my pencil sketched out the boy’s face.

  I knew this was only the beginning.

  Chapter Two—Cassidy

  By the time I got home, I had a decent sketch. Midas wanted to see it, but I asked him to wait. I couldn’t be sure this portrait wasn’t anything but my vivid imagination stirred up by the tales of murder and mayhem at the amusement park. I mean, I was pretty sure I was seeing something in my mind’s eye, but I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.

  Come on, Cassidy. When have you just drawn someone’s face with such detail except when you’re on a case?

  Before I left for Gulfport, Helen had sent me a text to let me know she was thinking of me. My sick friend had good days and bad days, but at least she was getting the best of the cancer and not vice versa. I’d have to go by Dixie House to see her soon, whether she liked it or not. Helen was always polite whenever I dropped by, but I knew it was taxing to visit with folks when she was having a rough day. That’s why I was so surprised to hear that she was going to Boca Raton to visit her sister for a few weeks. Yes, I’d have to call her when I got back from the investigation.

  I tidied up a few things and began to sweep the kitchen floor when the doorbell rang. I was surprised to see Jocelyn Graves on my doorstep. “Hey! When did you get back?” I hugged her and welcomed her and Sherman inside. “Tell me everything. Did you catch any evidence?”

  Jocelyn shook her head and rubbed her arms. “That place is creep central, Cassidy. The woman who arranged for me to be there, Adrian, wants us all to come up and check it out, I think. But I don’t know…once was enough for me. Whatcha got to eat?”

  “Come on in the kitchen. I’ve got some leftovers from Papa Angelos. Tell me about the Leaf Academy. Is it really as scary as they say? I’m dying to hear.” I went into “good hostess” mode as Jocelyn plunked down at my kitchen table and Sherman flopped down beside her. Her blond hair was almost white it was so light. Jocelyn had long dreadlocks
and tanned skin like she’d been living on the beach all her life. I knew she liked to surf and swim, but so far, we hadn’t been to the beach together. I hoped when the weather got warmer we could change all that.

  “Have you heard of a maelstrom, Cassidy?”

  “No, but I don’t know much about spirit classifications, if that’s what you’re referring to. I’m a rookie, remember?” I heated up the leftover eggplant moussaka and dug around for parmesan cheese and clean silverware.

  She laughed at that. “After the Crenshaw Road investigation, none of us are rookies,” she said with a smile.

  “True. So, what’s a maelstrom?” I put the cheese and silverware in front of her and waited for the microwave to work its magic.

  “It’s a really strong entity that pulls in other ghosts or energies to create a kind of spiritual whirlpool. That’s what is going on at the Leaf Academy. There’s a maelstrom, and it likes to pose as a small boy. It’s been going on for decades. People have died there. It’s not a good place. It’s a lucky thing my dog was with me. I think…no, I know he saved my life. If it hadn’t been for Sherman, I wouldn’t be here today.” The dog huffed beside her as if he agreed.

  The microwave beeped and surprised me. With a red and white checkered cloth napkin, I removed the warm dish and set it down in front of Jocelyn. She didn’t dive right into it. My fellow investigator was clearly upset and shaken. That wasn’t like the confident, fun-loving young woman I knew.

  “That’s frightening, Jocelyn. I’m glad you’re here. Good boy, Sherman.” Sherman lifted his head and panted, showing me his pink tongue. He seemed bored until my mischievous black cat joined us. Domino and Sherman had met once before and seemed to get along just fine. Domino liked being the alpha, and Sherman was sweet enough to let Domino pounce on him playfully. Jocelyn sprinkled cheese on her food and picked at it with her fork. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t really want to even think about it. I’m still trying to process everything, but I want to show you something. Look at this.” She dug in her bag and grabbed a folder. “Tell me this isn’t super creepy.”

  I opened the worn red folder and nearly fell out of my chair. There was an old piece of paper with a very detailed drawing done in black pencil. The paper was brown along the edges and yellowed all over. “This drawing is so old, but that looks like you. What are you doing? This auditorium, is this at the Leaf Academy?”

  “Yes, it is. That’s the center of all the disturbances there, that auditorium. It’s horrible. I want you to keep that for me. I don’t care if I ever see it again. I just thought maybe you could get some clues from it. Why did the maelstrom target me, and what does that mean? I know how skilled you are with drawings and paintings. It’s kind of like you’re a medium but with art. Like me and my camera.”

  I didn’t tell her that just handling the drawing sent strange sparks through me. I immediately got up and hid it in a kitchen drawer. I’d check it out later when Jocelyn wasn’t around. “I guess that is a good way of putting it. I’ll let you know if I get anything. I’ve started a new drawing, though, so it might be a little while. I wouldn’t want to get my wires crossed, so to speak.” I brought her a bottle of water so she wouldn’t think I’d gone into the kitchen just to get rid of the drawing.

  Jocelyn cracked open the bottle and took a big sip. “I am being totally honest here when I say I’m not in a hurry. I’ve still got tons of footage to go through myself. I did catch some amazing pictures, but I’ll wait to show them to you. I understand about getting your wires crossed.”

  I nodded and fussed at Domino for smacking Sherman. He ignored me, as he always did. My cat had a lot of nerve and didn’t seem to care that his bad behavior affected anyone else. He liked to chew cords even though he had a ton of toys. That was a worrying development. I’d taken to closing all the doors when I left the house to keep him out of mischief. It bothered me that sometimes when I returned all the doors were open, but I chalked it up to my deceased Uncle Derek, who I knew still lurked around the place. This had been his home before it was mine. But we’d reached a sort of understanding—I asked him to stop doing creepy things like moving items around, and I promised not to paint another room or move the furniture.

  “I had pizza with Aaron when I got back,” she said with a sunny smile as she petted her dog’s head. I don’t know why I’d heated the food up for her. She didn’t seem that hungry.

  “Did you?” I decided not to remind her that I’d been with Midas when she told him. “Aaron is such a sweet guy.”

  “Do you know much about him?”

  “Probably not as much as you. Sierra hired him a few investigations back. She’s the one to ask. I know he worked with another paranormal group before he came to us, but that team broke up and he’s with us now.”

  “I like him, Cassidy.”

  “I can see why you would. I think you two would have a lot in common. He’s very athletic, likes to rock-climb and whatnot. He seems like the adventurous kind of guy.”

  “You think I’m adventurous?”

  I laughed at her question, not mockingly but in a do-you-really-have-to-ask kind of way. “Well, yeah. Didn’t you just come back from a solo investigation at one of the area’s most notoriously haunted locations? I’d say that was pretty darn adventurous.”

  There was a lull in the conversation after that. I kind of felt like she wanted to ask me something else or say something else but wasn’t sure how to do it. I waited, but nothing. We watched the pets frolic around and fight over Domino’s toys. The funny thing was the cat didn’t really play with that particular toy, but now that the dog had shown some interest, it was Domino’s favorite. He meowed up at me plaintively to step in.

  After a while, Jocelyn said, “This is for you.” She slid a bright pink jump drive my way. “Those are the pictures I took, the ones with your sister. I thought you might like to have them.”

  I nodded and thanked her as I held the thing in my hand. That familiar pang of grief sprang up in me, but it wasn’t as painful as it used to be. I would never love Kylie less, and I would miss her every day, but knowing that she was still with me—at least visiting me occasionally—brought me great peace. It was a selfish way of thinking, but it was what it was.

  “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. You’ve got that faraway look in your eyes, Cassidy Wright.”

  I rose with her and waited as she hooked the leash to Sherman’s collar. “Do I?” I didn’t bother denying it. I wanted to paint, paint the boy. No, the teenager. He wouldn’t appreciate being called a boy. He was almost a man, or at least he had been.

  “Is it related to the new case?”

  “Might be. I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably know more tomorrow. You’ll be at the team meeting, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks for dinner. Thanks for everything.”

  I hugged her, and she hugged me back. I sometimes forgot people didn’t like to be hugged, but thankfully I wasn’t crossing any lines with her. Jocelyn was a very free person, and I liked that about her.

  “Don’t thank me yet. I may not get anything out of the drawing.”

  “Well, even if you don’t, thanks for trying. I’ll see you tomorrow. Say goodbye to Domino, Sherman.”

  The white dog loped out beside her, and I closed the door behind them and locked it. A sudden worried feeling hit me. I needed to call Helen. I needed to hear my friend’s voice. I picked up the phone just as the back door blew open. Was it a windy day? I didn’t recall seeing any storms rolling in here, and there weren’t any stormy skies when I went for that ride with Midas. I knew what this was. This was an invitation. I put the phone down, grabbed my sketch pad from the hall table and scooped up Domino. He could go with me if he behaved himself.

  I walked out of the house and closed the door behind me. Yes, I had the key to the studio in my pocket. I dug it out while I wrangled the cat and the sketch pad. It didn’t take long for me to get bac
k into the flow of things. I flipped through the pad. Nope. I wouldn’t need that sketch of the balloons. Not yet, not now. I needed to see that face again. Ah, here he was.

  I studied it carefully and began to set up a new canvas as the picture developed in my mind. I could see him, a nice young man. Studious, hopeful. Full of life.

  With a pencil poised against the canvas, I began to sketch.

  Chapter Three—Benjamin Pettis

  Gulfport, Mississippi, 1987

  Brittany left her Trapper Keeper open on the bar while she answered the phone, so I did what any older brother would do—I peeked inside. Her handwriting was horrible, but at least she was doing her homework. She was a bit of a flake with the schoolwork, but she was about to be fifteen and wanted our neighbor’s used car more than anything. I told her there was no way she was going to get that car unless she brought those grades up, but Brittany didn’t want to hear it. She knew everything, and years of practice had taught her that she would get whatever she wanted if she whined to Dad long enough. But to his credit, I didn’t think he was going to budge on this. At least I hoped he stuck to his guns.

  I had to work my ass off to get my motorcycle. I’d always gotten straight A’s, but I had to earn the money for the down payment for my bike. Sure, Dad paid the notes a few times, but I had a good part-time job now. That down payment had been a lot of work; I cut a lot of grass and raked a ton of leaves. In Brittany’s mind, the rules were not the same for her. And they never had been. Probably because she was a girl or maybe because she was the baby and spoiled rotten. Either way, it was okay. I’d given up being bitter about it a long time ago. She was my little sister, and I loved her even though she was a pain in the ass most days.