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

by M. L. Bullock

  “Yeah, looks like. Why don’t you call it a night and then take a look in the morning when you aren’t zombified? I think we’ve both had enough for today. Let’s go back to bed. How long have you been up, Cassidy? You probably dabbed that on and didn’t realize it is all. Don’t read too much into it. You need help tidying up anything?”

  “No, I did that already. I was just coming to bed after I drank my tea.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the small patch in the lower right-hand corner of the canvas, but Midas turned off the light. I walked to the door and picked up my cup along the way. Could I have painted myself into the picture without even realizing it? I closed the door and locked it. Midas and I held hands as we walked back through the house locking doors and turning off lights. I hadn’t realized how many lights I had left on.

  Gosh, and look at the time. I’d been painting for four hours straight. No wonder my fingers were sore. Yeah, Cassidy. Think about anything except what you just saw.

  Without saying much, the two of us returned to bed and I prayed that I could fall asleep soon. My prayers were answered pretty quickly because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was up and I was by myself with a sweet note on my pillow.

  How did I get so lucky? - Midas

  I folded the note up and put it under my pillow as I made the bed. That way when I went to bed tonight I could read it again. And I was the lucky one. What were the odds that a creative like me, a person who believed she could talk to the dead through her artwork, would meet someone as amazing as Midas Demopolis? And he totally dug what I did. He didn’t care that I had a strange “hobby” or that I was short, skinny and red-headed. Midas Demopolis loved me, and I loved him. And one day soon, I was going to be Mrs. Midas Demopolis. Cassidy Demopolis. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it.

  Speaking of ring…I raised my hand to look at the diamond. It always sparkled so beautifully in the sunlight. But it was gone! What happened to it?

  “Oh no! Oh God! This can’t be happening!” I immediately tore the bed apart; I needed to wash the sheets anyway, but I wasn’t washing anything until I found that ring. No matter what, I had to find it! But there was no sign of the ring. I looked under the bed with a flashlight. Then I paced the bedroom floor as I hurriedly dressed in blue jeans and a Gulf Coast Paranormal t-shirt. I combed through every inch of the house and even searched the cat’s favorite sleeping spot. Nothing there.

  Okay, think, Cassidy. When was the last time you remember wearing it? I had it on last night when I came home because I scratched myself with it when I was putting my hair up in a ponytail before I went to paint. I went to bed with it on, because I never take it off, and I had it on when I went to the studio. Maybe it’s there!

  I hurried off in that direction. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet, so I took a few minutes to locate my slippers. I slid them on and paused at the back door. “Uncle Derek, if you moved my ring, I’m going to be so ticked at you. If you have it, please return it. Put it on my dresser. If not, help me find it!”

  I waited but heard not a sound. The house was clean, quiet and empty. Nobody was here but Domino and me. That was strange. Even during those rare weekends when I wasn’t doing anything, I could usually sense Uncle Derek around. But not today. It was like he wasn’t here anymore, and that made me kind of sad. Sadder than I could have predicted. But I didn’t have time to stand here and mull over my feelings. I had a ring to find! A very special, worth-more-than-my-car ring to find!

  I headed out to the studio and immediately began ransacking the place. I checked by the industrial sink I had installed. Nothing. I prayed to God that it didn’t go down the drain. If it did, how was I ever going to retrieve it without Midas finding out?

  I checked under the easel, all around the studio, but I couldn’t find the ring. Before I knew it, I was crying. Who could I call? Not Helen, since she was in Boca Raton with her sister Carol. Sierra wouldn’t appreciate me calling this early to wake up the baby. Jocelyn and I were friendly, but we weren’t that close. I wanted to sit down on the floor and sob. But before I did, I walked over to the painting, still amazed by the tiny edge of my nightgown and smock—and oh my God! My ring! I could see my hand reaching for something—it was my ring.

  I hadn’t lost my ring at all. Not in this world or time but in Benjamin’s. Without thinking too much about it, I closed my eyes and touched the canvas.

  Rats! It’s dry!

  I raced to the sink to get some water for my paint cup. I squirted paint on my palette and dabbed the colors together quickly. I touched the corner of the painting with the brush and steeled my nerves in preparation for what was about to happen. Did I really want to do this? I had resisted the urge earlier; I mean, I wanted to touch the painting, but I hadn’t done that. Now here I was, standing here again, only this time I had to go!

  I closed my eyes and touched the paint. It felt warm beneath my fingers, as if it had been heated up before I used it. It felt charged…yeah, that was the right word.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter Twelve—Benjamin

  I never believed I would fall, but I did. I would never forget that moment, the moment of falling from the wheel, feeling as if I’d never land. But I did land. Twice. First I hit the spinning seat beneath me, and then I slid off and onto the ground below. I was out for I don’t know how long; when I came to, there was a crowd around me. I didn’t recognize anybody except the Ferris wheel operator.

  “Come on, buddy! Wake up!” He slapped my cheeks, and I thought I saw tears in his eyes. Did he think I was dead? I wasn’t dead, stupid jerk! He should have stopped the wheel when I asked him to. He should have stopped it, and then I wouldn’t have had to try to get out.

  Oh, my head hurt so bad I thought I would puke all over him. He kept going on and on, talking and talking, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. The blood was rushing to my ears, and my heart beat ninety miles per hour in my chest. I knew what was happening—this was an adrenaline rush. I’d felt this before on a flight with my father one time. He was an airline pilot, so his kids got to fly for free…but after that time, he never asked me to again.

  That wasn’t fear, son. That’s the adrenaline that done you in. I seen that a lot in the war. Men shot, near death, but got up and ran for two miles before they died just because that adrenaline was racing through their bloodstream.

  I hadn’t understood it then; I was just a kid when it happened. I’d thrown up all over the cockpit as soon as we got the plane off the ground. Now the adrenaline was racing again. I was on my feet and practically running away from the man who tried to drag me back. I felt blood wet and sticky on my neck. It was warm, and that was proof I was alive, right? But I had to find Brittany! I could have been wrong, maybe she didn’t take my car. Maybe not! I mean, there were lots of cars in the parking lot. I might have seen one of them taking off, not her. She would never leave me like this, not when I was hurt so bad. Why was everyone screaming at me?

  I began to cry, and my legs wobbled. I felt sick again, like I was going to vomit. And I did. The crowd backed away; someone called me a drunk, but clearly, they were wrong. My head felt like someone had split it with an ax. I rubbed the back of my head and felt a deep slice, yet I couldn’t feel the pain. No pain at all. Just my heart racing. Just the desire to puke some more. I needed to let it go. Where are you, Brittany? Why did you ditch me? You’re not supposed to ditch your brother.

  There! She would probably be at the carousel. She mentioned riding it before; that’s probably where she went. And she was waiting on me, surely she was. Oh man, it looked like the ride was closed. What was going on here?

  “Brittany,” I tried to scream, but nobody could hear me over the loudspeakers blasting Alice Cooper’s “I’m Eighteen.” The guy who had been following me disappeared, but I found an open door. I stumbled through it, my arms barely moving now. How much blood had I lost? Too much. Way too much.

  And then I saw the figure at the other side of the room. A tall,
dark figure. I couldn’t see his face; I didn’t even know if he was really there because there was no face. It was speaking to me…somehow, it was talking to me, but it wasn’t making sense. Was that a woman’s voice? I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t sure about anything. I staggered on and reached for the figure, and that’s when I heard the sound. Like a gun going off right in my ear.

  Have I been shot? Isn’t it enough that I fell off the Ferris wheel? You want to shoot me too? What a horrible day! This has been the worst day of my life for sure. Worst day. But it can’t be the last day. Brittany stole my car, and my keys and my class ring. It was in the pocket of my jacket. I’d been carrying it around with me ever since Kendra gave it back. I didn’t want to admit it was really over…yeah, I talked a good game, but losing her really hurt. To make matters worse, I was tossed to the side for a wannabe jock. And now I’d lost my ring too.

  Why, Brittany? I want my ring! I shouted to the dark figure that leaned over me. Only my mouth wasn’t moving, and I was getting cold. Oh, so cold.

  I fell off the Ferris wheel, and then someone shot me. Shot me dead.

  No, that’s not true. This can’t be true. I have to keep thinking. As long as I am thinking, I am alive. That is the truth. Yes. Truth. What is truth?

  Four score and seven years ago…I can’t remember any more of it.

  My name is Benjamin Lee Pettis. I am alive and not dead.

  My name is Benjamin Lee Pettis. I am alive and not dead.

  My name is… I could think it but couldn’t say it.

  I was so cold, and so tired, and so dead.

  Yeah, I was dead.

  Chapter Thirteen—Midas

  “Apologies to the team, to all of you. I wasn’t giving my best last night. I am sorry about that, but I’ve got it under control now. I had some personal issues, nothing to do with any of you, just some of my own stuff. Anyway, I think I’m ready. No, I know I’m ready. Hey, here’s Cass—”

  Cassidy’s expression was one of terror and sadness. “Sorry to be late, y’all. I think I lost track of time.”

  “What is it, Cassidy? Is it Helen?” Sierra sidled beside my fiancée and put her arm around her.

  “No, thank God. I lost the ring, Midas. It’s in the painting. I can see myself reaching for it in the painting. Like I dropped it or something while I was there. You have to believe me.” She put her head down on the table and began to cry. I believed every word of what she was telling me. Yeah, it stung that my grandmother’s ring might be gone, but Cassidy was all that mattered right now.

  “It’s okay, Cassidy. We’ll get another ring. I promise you, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters to me.”

  She slapped her hands on the table. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her fingers were stained with paint. She must have tried unsuccessfully to get back into the painting. “I want the ring back, Midas. It’s not right that this ghost has my ring. I am sorry for what happened to him, but he’s confused. He needs to give it back.”

  “In the painting, is he holding on to it?”

  “He’s reaching for it. And I didn’t paint him like that. The ring is in midair, and we are both reaching for it. And,” she said as she turned to me with tears in her eyes, “I can see my face and my hair now. It’s like I’m coming to life in the other place, in Benjamin’s time. What can that mean?”

  Sierra broke in, “Do you have a picture? I think we should all see it, Cassidy.”

  “Yes, but don’t you want to wait? I thought that was protocol now, wait until the investigation was over to share my paintings with the team. Isn’t that what you said, Sierra?”

  Sierra didn’t bark back at her even though Cassidy sounded snarky and on the verge of tears. I mean, it was what Sierra had said. On more than one occasion, she reminded Cassidy that GCP was a team, not a single person. I guess in some ways, even though Sierra was as confident as heck, she was a tad bit insecure. But now, she just wanted to help.

  “You’re right, I did say that, but clearly I was wrong, especially with stuff like this. I am sorry for being such a jerk, Cassidy. Please tell me what’s going on. What did you see? May I see the picture of the painting?”

  Cassidy dug her phone out of her purse and handed it to Sierra, then put her head back down on her folded arms.

  I hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. I am so sorry this happened to you.” She cried on my shoulder and apologized again. “No need for that,” I murmured. “We’ll get the ring back. If you want it back, we will get it back.”

  “How? How can we do that?”

  I smiled at her and turned to Bruce. “Call Brittany for me, please. Ask her to come here. Tell her I have some money for her, but she needs to bring something that belongs to Benjamin. I think it’s time we make an exchange.”

  Cassidy wiped her eyes and accepted a tissue from Jocelyn. “That reminds me, Benjamin was thinking about his jacket in the painting, plus a few other things. He had some things in his pocket, his father’s car keys and his class ring. He’d been carrying it around since he broke up with his girlfriend. Maybe if she has those things, he will give me my ring back.”

  Bruce nodded but warned, “Even if she still has the ring after all these years, it’s not likely that she will want to part with it. That’s just how she is, Midas, and you met her boyfriend. He’s even worse. You might have to pay a high price to get that ring.”

  “Whatever the price is, it will be worth it. Just get them here.”

  “Roger that,” he answered as he headed off to my office to make his phone call. He came back sooner than expected. “Well, believe it or not, she has agreed to come. And she says, and I quote, ‘I think I have something Ben would want,’ end quote. I’m not sure I would trust her, though.”

  “I don’t trust her, but Benjamin isn’t letting go of Cassidy’s ring. In the meantime, let’s all have some coffee and donuts and go over our plan of attack for tonight.”

  “You still want to go back, after everything I told you?” Cassidy asked me in a surprised voice.

  “We have a job to do, sweetheart. We have to go. We know Benjamin is hurting, and we are going to try and help him, but what about the others? The prairie girl, as Sierra calls her. That creepy thing with the werewolf head. Then there are the orbs, the lights…there’s a lot going on at the Gulf-A-Rama. What else did you see with Ben? Did he get shot?”

  Cassidy accepted another handful of tissues from Jocelyn and cleaned her face. “I heard the sound; it sounded like a gunshot, but I don’t think it was. It was more like the popping you hear when hydraulics go bad. I think Benjamin thought he’d been shot, but that wasn’t the case. I could feel what he felt, see what he saw. He was so fixated on getting his dad’s car and keys and his ring. He also thought about Stephanie, the girl that got away. I think she was probably the last thing he thought of. Well, almost the last thing. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, and he tried really hard to do that. I think it was a horrible accident. Nobody killed him, not deliberately or directly, but he naturally has some animosity toward Brittany for leaving him there. Or maybe he’s still trying to look out for her. Who knows? I can’t say for sure.”

  “Interesting. It’s possible that we are hearing phantom sounds. Maybe some hydraulics popping or who knows what. We’ll cover that area with digital recorders tonight,” Josh said.

  “Great, and I have some other ideas too,” I said as our plan began to come together. It was a good plan, I thought. “Why don’t you sit this one out, Cassidy? Get some rest. Stay at my place until I get back.”

  “No way, Midas Demopolis. I’m going with you, like it or not.”

  “Oh, I like it, but you stay close to me. You hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

  “All right, let’s load up.”

  Thirty minutes later, we were leaving the Gulf Coast Paranormal office for the supply store to pick up batteries and a few new flashlights. And then we turned the vehicles onto
the highway and headed to Gulfport.

  I didn’t feel any foreboding at all tonight. I guess whatever was going to happen had already happened. Maybe Papa Angelos’ phone call, the first one, had been about the ring. Maybe the worst had happened now. Nothing else to worry about, right? I would probably never know. Not really. I set the SUV to cruise, and we drove the hour to the Gulf-A-Rama without much traffic. It was dusk when we arrived, with purple shadows smothering the last rays of sunshine. I loved this time of day. Yes, it would be dark soon.

  And we weren’t alone.

  Chapter Fourteen—Cassidy

  “Jocelyn? You got your camera ready?” The SUV came to a rolling stop, and I waited for someone in the other van to reply.

  “What’s up, Cass—oh my God! Look at that! Yeah, I see them.” The radio broke off as the van rolled up beside us. We were packed and ready for our Night Two investigation, but apparently, we weren’t the only ones here.

  “That can’t be fireflies,” I whispered to Midas as he turned off the lights. Bruce leaned forward to get a better look at the swarm of orbs that lingered near the front gate. They were a myriad of colors, red, green, white and blue. A few bounced up and down playfully, and others hovered as if they were watching us.

  “Orbs! Where’s my camera? Move slowly, guys. They tend to be skittish,” Bruce reminded us.

  I eased the door open on the SUV feeling more wonder than fear. Sierra and Josh were right behind us; Jocelyn and Aaron closed the van doors quietly and eased up too. I could hear the soft clicking of Jocelyn’s camera as she shot dozens of photos.