The Ghosts of Landover Mystery Series Box Set

by Etta Faire

  I looked at my cell phone, thankful I had a valid excuse not to be at the task force meeting currently being held along the perimeters of death.

  It was bad enough I’d already walked into what could have been the gates to the hosts of evil the other day. I didn’t need to test something else deadly.

  Justin squeezed my hand as we made our way down the cold concrete staircase, and I leaned into the warmth of his jacket. Even though neither of us would admit it, we were both here to make sure the other wasn’t at the Dead Forest. Me, as a member of the search party, and him, getting bear sprayed or shot by members of the search party.

  It was good to have trust in a relationship.

  A gust of wind went down the stairwell, sending the smells of garlic and bread through the air from the restaurant’s kitchen that was, once again, in full swing for Saturday’s lunch. A much nicer smell than the last time I was here.

  Mr. Peters paused at the door, little beads of sweat pooling along his receding hairline. He was a nervous man even when there was no reason to be nervous. “I’m doing most of the restoration process myself, basing it off of the photo from the Winehouse’s scrapbook that you made a copy of for me, Carly. Thank you for that.”

  I nodded. Justin, Rosalie, and I were all crammed by the small opening around the basement door. I shuffled my weight from foot to foot, hoping he would get the hint to open things up already.

  His hand hovered over the knob. “The bar and the couches were all really well preserved, believe it or not.” He paused to chuckle. “An astounding feat considering how many bad winters we’ve had since…”

  Rosalie put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get on with it, huh, Louis? We’re all dying to see the haunted speakeasy, but we don’t actually want to die waiting.”

  He opened the door. “Well, it’s only haunted by the two ghosts. You can let me know if they’re happy with the renovations.”

  I looked around, and I was instantly brought back to the channeling. The bar was largely in tact, no glasses had been hung along it decoratively yet, but the wood and the black leather stools around the edges looked the same.

  The sitting area off to the rear with white tufted couches and tables was also perfect.

  Drew appeared first, sitting on one of the couches, legs crossed in a stylish black dress. “Please tell the man in charge we’re very pleased.”

  Feldman faded into view, his pinstripe suit was gray. I could tell that now. His long face accentuated by his silver-blonde hair. “Very happy.”

  I turned to Mr. Peters. “They are here and they want you to know they love it.”

  “Good. Good,” he said. I searched his face for whether or not he really believed me.

  Justin rolled his eyes by my side. “I don’t know about ghosts, but I have to admit. This is nicer than I thought it’d be.”

  “I almost forgot,” Mr. Peters said, snapping his fingers. “I brought wine for the occasion.” He ducked behind the bar and pulled out a bottle and some glasses from a cabinet. “Don’t worry. All from the restaurant.”

  He handed each of us a glass.

  “We hardly ever served wine,” Feldman chimed in from the couch. “That was a little too fancy for this place.”

  I ignored him. Not everything could be authentic.

  “Here’s to closing the gates of hell,” Rosalie said, raising her glass. I could tell Justin wasn’t impressed with the toast. And neither were our ghost guests.

  “Can’t a ghost get angry without it being blown completely out of proportion?” Drew said. “The gates of hell. Really.”

  Jackson appeared in almost full color on the stool in front of me, right by the horse bank at the bar. It was good to have him back at Gate House. He was almost his normal self again.

  “Oh my. What a charming toy bank that I’m sure children loved playing with back in its day,” he said. “And, of course, by children I mean Satan.”

  I smiled at him without saying a word. Even though everyone here already knew I talked to ghosts, I didn’t want them to know just how thrilled I was to have my ex back.

  Justin pulled his phone from his pocket. It vibrated in his hand and he answered it.

  “Hey Christine,” he said, raising the one-minute finger at me. He moved to the back of the room for privacy, which was something he wasn’t going to get. I moved back there too. Since Christine ran the front office of the police department, I had a feeling this call meant I was going to need to get a ride home with Rosalie.

  Justin tried to keep his voice low. “What do you mean they went inside the forest? Is everyone okay? They should really have let us know.”

  When he clicked off, I grabbed his arm. “Okay, what happened?”

  “Something with the task force again. This time they’ve gone too far.”

  “Because bringing out a gun wasn’t too far last time,” I joked.

  He put his phone back in his pocket. “Apparently, old George passed out in the forest during the search party this afternoon. He’s fine. He didn’t even want to go to the hospital.”

  “Thank Goodness,” I said. “But what do you mean in the forest? I was there at the last task force meeting and they specifically said no one was supposed to go in the forest.”

  “Well, they went in this time.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “They’re all adults and this is a free country,” he muttered over and over, more like he was reminding himself.

  He bent down so he was closer to me. His breath smelled like the green tic-tacs he loved. “George pointed to something in the distance just before he passed out. No one knows what it was.”

  My mouth fell open. “No one saw it?”

  He shook his head. “Like I said, he’s fine. And yes, he’s being forced to go to the hospital.” He added before I could ask. “But it took five people just to lift him up and get him out of there. That seems like a lot.”

  I thought about how easily I was able to pull George up the hill at the last task force meeting. Dolls had more resistance than that petite man.”

  Justin went on. “And when they did pick him up, they found something underneath him.” He whispered in my ear. “Bobby’s wallet, right where George had passed out.”

  I gasped. “What? I’m glad George is okay, but poor Shelby. Please say there wasn’t money in that wallet.”

  He nodded. “A lot.”

  “Crap,” I said. I was so worried about Shelby I completely forgot to be happy that my boyfriend was finally sharing secrets with me. “So, I take it that means you’ll be headed into the Dead Forest soon to check on this.”

  “That seems to be the case.”

  I looked into his dark eyes, surprised to see he was worried. The man could hold in a lot, but by doing so, he gave away a lot as well. Was he worried about Bobby or about going into the Dead Forest or both?

  “I’m going in with you,” I said then quickly kicked myself for saying that. Where in the hell did that even come from?

  “Very funny,” he replied. “Not that I believe in the old rumors. But, this is an investigation now. This is no longer the amateur task force hour.”

  “Well, that has to be the funniest part, officer,” I snapped. “Because if it weren’t for the amateurs, the professionals wouldn’t even know they had a case.”

  He looked back at Rosalie and Mr. Peters, who were still busy making love-sick faces at each other, and he lowered his voice. “We talked about this, Carly. This has gotten serious.”

  I didn’t answer him. Of course, we both knew he was right. This had gotten serious, which was why we also both knew I was headed into that Dead Forest too, with or without him.

  The End

  Book Five Now Available for Preorder

  Hi. If you’d like to know when new books are coming out, just sign up for my list at ettafaire.com. (You’ll also get a novella in The Ghosts of Landover Mystery series free when you sign up.) Read on to the next chapter for a sneak peek at the fifth book in the series called
Inside the Executive’s Pocket.

  And please, if you have the time, I would really appreciate it if you could review this book. Indie authors, like me, need every review we can get. Thank you!

  Find a typo or other editing error? Please, email me at etta@ettafaire.com and let me know, and I’ll fix it right away. I try to put out the best product possible, but I’m far from perfect, so I appreciate your help and support on that.

  Book Five, Inside the Executive’s Pocket,

  is now available for preorder.

  Here’s more about it:

  History books say Landover’s Dead Forest got its name because almost nothing grows there.

  The locals know the truth.

  The fifth book in the paranormal series, the Ghosts of Landover Mysteries.

  Most people in Landover have heard the legend of the Dead Forest. It’s why no one wants much to do with the stretch of trees that separates Landover County from the rest of civilization.

  People who go into the Dead Forest generally do not come out. Not the same, they don’t.

  And rumor has it, paranormal massacres have happened there, twice. Once in the 1800s to a group of ranchers and again in 1978 to a group of young executives just outside the drive-in, the reason the drive-in closed. Just like with the ranchers, the executives’ mutilated bodies were found along the perimeter of the Dead Forest, with one person making it out alive to tell the tale.

  It’s the exact spot where Shelby’s missing fiancé’s wallet was found. It’s also where old George passed out. And now, it’s the spot where Carly picks up her newest client, one of the victims of the drive-in incident.

  Through channeling, Carly is taken straight to the night in 1978 to relive the story behind the Dead Forest incident and figure out the mystery. But while channeling memories from the 1970s, Carly gets more than just a dose of Disco Fever. She finds clues to Bobby’s missing-person’s case. And it changes everything.

  Read onto the next chapter for a sneak peek at it.

  Inside the Executive’s Pocket

  Chapter One: When The Dead Forest calls

  I’ll never forget the first time I heard the rumor about the Dead Forest. I didn’t grow up in Landover, so I had no clue something so weird could exist in life. Locals know all too well weird exists here.

  I had just met Shelby. We were both around twenty and heading off to one of her makeup parties that I was only going to go to so it’d look like there were more people. I was in no position in life to purchase twenty-dollar lip liner.

  It was dark, and on the stretch of highway we were on, also deserted. No people, not very many lights, like the city had just given up on expensive things like safety in the less populated areas.

  She suddenly pointed toward a dirt path to our left, her voice taking on a weird, ominous tone.

  “The old drive-in’s over there,” she said. “It shut down in the 70’s after the incident.”

  A chill went up my spine. “What are you talking about? You’re trying to scare me. It’s not working.”

  It was totally working.

  She suddenly veered the car down the path, and I held in my scream. Her Cadillac bumped and bounced, hitting potholes and crevices. I remember staring at her in the light of the full moon, wondering if I was about to get slaughtered by my seemingly sweet new friend, who I really didn’t know very well and was certainly exhibiting erratic behavior.

  I was about to tell her all about the mountain of lip liners I was going to buy from her as soon as we made it to that makeup party safely, when she pointed all around at the forest.

  “It’s called the Dead Forest,” she said. “Wikipedia’ll tell you the Dead Forest got its name because the farmers and ranchers who founded Landover couldn’t grow anything on this part of the land.”

  She barely looked at the road as she talked, and it was almost pitch black, despite the full moon. Still, I did not tell the possibly crazy person by my side to slow down or pay attention even though she clearly needed to.

  She continued. “But the locals know the truth. It got its name because strange things happen to people who go inside it.”

  She stopped the car suddenly right along the path. I fell into my seatbelt, my heart racing.

  I hit my lock three or four times before looking around, trying to decide which was my best bet. Stay in the car and defend myself against the bony, pink-haired girl who may or may not be about to murder me, or run screaming into the forest.

  The full moon had illuminated the trunks and branches of the trees so they looked like skeleton fingers beckoning me to come in.

  I decided to stay in the car.

  Shelby continued. “A group of settlers way back when went in there. Legend has it they got disoriented and lost. Only one made it out alive.”

  “Maybe they just needed a better compass,” I said, trying to make my voice casual.

  “Except, their bones were found a few weeks later neatly placed all along the perimeter.”

  I tried not to look rattled.

  “Then in the 1970s sometime, a couple stayed late after the drive-in closed. They were making out in the car when…”

  “Is this going to involve a hook?”

  She ignored me. “When one of them saw something in the woods. They thought they heard laughing, like their friends were playing a trick on them, trying to scare them. The boyfriend had a baseball bat in his trunk, so they went inside the forest to have a look.”

  I didn’t interrupt her even though this was already very unbelievable. Why would they grab a bat if they thought it was their friends? And how had they not recognized this scenario, even in the 70s? This was Horror Movie 101. Never assume it’s your friends making the noise in the woods. It never is.

  “The boyfriend didn’t make it out. Only the girlfriend did. And she had the same story as the old rancher. Disoriented as soon as they went in. They saw eyes. And laughing. Her boyfriend passed out and she remembered hearing his screams but she couldn’t help him or find him. She couldn’t tell where anything was coming from. Then, when she somehow got back to town, bloodied and crazed, the police discovered the couple’s friends were missing too. It had been them in the woods playing a trick on the couple. A few weeks later, all of their bones were found neatly placed along the perimeter. The boyfriend’s and the friends’. No one went to the drive-in after that. It went out of business.”

  I looked over at the drive-in, which was just a dark, dilapidated mass of burned-down, graffiti-tagged boards.

  And now, more than ten years after hearing that story, I was about to head into those woods with my own boyfriend. To find Shelby’s fiancé. This was not my brightest idea.

  I pulled up next to Justin’s truck by the path in the Dead Forest that Caleb was pacing in front of, and checked my makeup in the mirror. Last week, after Bobby’s wallet was found, I bought $50 worth of “new stuff” from Shelby’s makeup business just to try to cheer her up. It hadn’t worked. Fifty dollars for nothing, except ridiculously shiny lips right now.

  I smudged the lip liner into the glossy lipstick so it wouldn’t look like I was trying too hard. Then, I scrunched my blondish brown curls into a ponytail to complete the “not-really-trying” look.

  The old drive-in barely stood off in the distance behind us in a clearing that was now overrun with weeds and thick grass, like a shrine to “the incident.”

  I got out and gave my boyfriend a quick hug. With his thick dark-hair and broad shoulders, he looked good in most anything he wore, but I especially liked the way he looked in his deputy uniform. The hug was awkward, though, like maybe I shouldn’t have come. This was official police business, after all. And I hadn’t even mentioned I was showing up.

  Caleb waved his arms wildly when I looked over at him. “What in the heck is she doing here?” His voice dripped with the kind of disgust you reserve for cockroaches. But then, Sheriff Caleb Bowman was my ex-husband’s cousin, and when my ex died without kids or siblings, Caleb expected
to receive the entire Bowman inheritance. Instead, the cockroach got everything.

  Caleb was a thin, nervous man who always scratched at his dyed-black goatee. “The state police are gonna be here soon. We closed off the street. How did you…”

  “I drove around the closure signs, same as the state police are going to do,” I said, matter-of-factly. A cool wind picked up and I briefly wished I would’ve worn something warmer than my skinny jeans and the cute, new “perfect-for-spring” jacket I found online that was probably only meant for people with perfect-spring weather. Spring in Wisconsin still needed winter jackets.

  Caleb shook his head. “We can’t have this. Do you know how unprofessional we are gonna look, calling out the state police and then introducing them to a… a girlfriend? Carly Mae, you need to go.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Justin said to Caleb.

  Handle it? I bit back the urge to blow up into full what-does-that-mean mode.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Carly,” my boyfriend said.

  Caleb’s feet crunched along the sticks and leaves as he smugly smiled at me and waved good-bye. He whispered to Justin as I opened my car door, but I still overheard. “I’d just feel a heck of a lot better about this if old George remembered what he saw last week. It could be… anything.”

  About a week ago, George passed out in the Dead Forest during an unofficial search party for Bobby and his brothers. Apparently, the search party had formed a human chain to go into the first part of the woods in the area where Bobby’s wallet chain had been spotted. No one really believed the rumors about becoming disoriented if you went off the paths of the Dead Forest, but no one wanted to test things out too much either.

  Just before George passed out, he pointed into the distance like he’d spotted something awful. His face went white and his mouth dropped.