Love & Ghosts: Crescent City Ghost Tours

by Pulkinen, Carrie

  “It finally broke her. I think she went crazy. She got so moody—sad one minute, furious the next. Robert—that’s her husband—he didn’t know what to do. We would trade off taking care of her, but she didn’t want to talk to us. Then one day, he called me. He said she’d locked herself in an upstairs bedroom for two hours and wouldn’t come out. He wanted me to come talk to her.”

  She stared straight ahead, her eyes not seeming to focus on anything, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I talked to her through the door for fifteen minutes, but she didn’t respond. Finally, we broke the damn thing down and found her. The bedroom had attic access. She’d tied a rope…” A choked sob escaped her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to say any more.”

  “No. No, I need to finish.” She inhaled deeply and set her jaw. “She’d tied a rope to a rafter and wrapped it around her neck. Robert held on to her while I cut her down. She looked exactly like that picture you drew.”

  “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must’ve felt. And then to see the picture. I should’ve been more careful.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry I made you relive that horrible memory.”

  She brushed her tear-salted lips to his and pressed her forehead against his. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you know.”

  “You think your sister went crazy from her gift, and you’re afraid the same thing will happen to you?”

  “I’m fine as long as I ignore it. I haven’t had a problem since I convinced myself ghosts weren’t real, and if I continue this way, I’m not worried. But…”

  “But you are worried about me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can assure you there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been this way my entire life, and I’m one of the sanest people you’ll ever meet. I never let spirits use my own energy, and I definitely do not practice any kind of magic—black, white, or any other color. Have I ever done anything to make you question my sanity?”

  “No.” She bit her bottom lip.

  “We can make this work, Emily. Please give me a chance. You might see me talking to invisible people from time to time, but I promise that’s as crazy as it gets. And if you want to learn to use your gift, I can help.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “No. I haven’t seen a ghost since I was sixteen, and I don’t want to ever see one again.”

  “Okay. Then keep that channel blocked. You can believe in ghosts without actually letting them in. But will you be okay with me seeing them?”

  The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed. “Are you sure you won’t go crazy?”

  “Positive.”

  She finally offered a small smile. “Okay. We’ll give it a try.”

  Relief unfurled in his chest, the tension releasing with his breath. “Thank you.”

  She furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to speak but hesitating. “Do you…do you think you can find out what my sister wants?”

  “I’ve been trying to for the past month.” And Emily must be whom she wanted him to help. Now the question was, what did she need help with? “Since I know her name now, it should be easier to communicate with her.”

  Her gaze darted about the room. “Could she be here now?”

  “I don’t allow spirits to enter my home.”

  “Only your dreams?”

  “That I can’t help. Can we talk about your apartment now? Do you really think it was vandals?”

  She inhaled deeply and slid off his lap, sitting cross-legged on the couch. “I guess it could have been Jessica. Maybe it was her way of warning me to be sure my door is locked?”

  “Why do you think it was her?” He tried to hide the doubt in his voice. A benevolent spirit wouldn’t cause that much damage, even if she were trying to make a point.

  She turned her hand and gazed at the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “That butterfly statue was Jessica’s.”

  He traced his finger across the delicate design. “The reason you like butterflies.”

  A dry laugh slipped from her lips. “I hate butterflies.”

  “Then why the tattoo?”

  She shook her head and clenched her hands in her lap. “I gave her that statue when I was ten years old. She didn’t have anything with butterflies on it; I just thought it was pretty. After that, she started collecting them. She became obsessed with butterflies. Her curtains, her bedspread, her notebooks for school…everything had butterflies on it. I started her obsession.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Lots of people like butterflies.”

  “That’s not the only obsession I started for her. It was my idea to take the Ouija board to the cemetery to contact Ricky. I started her obsession with spirits. If I hadn’t taken her to the cemetery that night, she’d still be alive today.”

  “Oh, Emily. Jessica made her own choices. You are not responsible for your sister’s death.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his side. No wonder she’d been holding back; she’d been carrying so much fear and guilt for so long. His heart ached at the years of torture she must’ve endured. No more. He was going to help her heal.

  Her laugh turned cynical. “That’s what everyone tells me. But you’re right; it’s time to move on. I came to New Orleans for a fresh start, and that includes letting go of my fear of spirits.”

  He straightened and turned toward her. “I know the perfect way for you to do that.”

  “Oh?” She eyed him skeptically.

  “Tomorrow is Halloween. My team’s investigating the ballroom at the Maison Des Fleurs, and I know the friendly spirits there.”

  “The children in the portrait?”

  “That’s a couple of them. Do you want to come investigate with us?” He tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  She unfolded her legs to rest her feet on the floor and stared at her hands in her lap. “I told you I don’t want to see spirits.”

  Kneeling in front of her, he placed his hands on her thighs and peered through the curtain of hair framing her face. He needed to see her, to gauge her reaction so he didn’t push her too hard. “You don’t have to see them. Just see the effects. Interact with them on a physical level, and you’ll see they aren’t scary. They’re just people without bodies.”

  “I don’t know.” Her brows knit together as if she were considering his offer.

  She needed this. If he could get her to go and experience the children, watch his crew communicate, she’d see there was nothing to be afraid of. He took her hands in his. “I’ll talk to them before we go in. They won’t try to show themselves to you. Sydney can’t see ghosts either, and she’ll be there. Please? Give it a try for me? If it’s too scary, we can leave, but I promise you will be safe.”

  She chewed her bottom lip and stared at their entwined hands for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she met his gaze with a look of sheer determination. “All right. If I’m going to admit ghosts exist, I might as well be all in. I’ll go with you.”

  Cool relief flushed through his body, loosening the knots in his stomach. He pulled her close and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “This ‘us’ thing…we’re going to be okay.”

  She took a deep breath. “I hope so.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sean, Emily, and his crew gathered outside the double doors leading into the Maison Des Fleurs ballroom. He took off his Dread Pirate mask, shoved it into a gear bag, and ran a hand through his hair. He might as well have called it a Zorro mask for all the people who still mistook his character’s identity. But it was worth it to see the smile on Emily’s face when she showed up at the ghost tour earlier in the evening.

  When she saw him, she squealed “Westley!” and ran to him. And in typical Emily fashion, she tripped over her own feet and ended up throwing herself into his arms. A perfect way to start the night. She even tagged along on his tour and actually wat
ched the evidence this time.

  She wore her usual work attire—slacks and a sweater—but a pair of cat ears sat atop her head, and she’d pinned a tail to her pants in honor of Halloween. She’d also painted a little nose and whiskers on her face. They were smudged now, but no less adorable.

  He glanced at Sydney and tapped his own mouth. “Might want to take out the fangs. We don’t want to scare the kids.”

  “Ghosts can get scared?” Emily set the gear bag she carried on the ground and stretched her arms over her head. Her midriff peeked from beneath her shirt, a quick flash of pale, creamy skin that sent his heart racing. It was going to be hard to focus his mind on the spirits when all his body wanted was to be on Emily.

  “They’re just people without bodies, remember?”

  She nodded.

  “And the main ones we’re trying to talk to tonight are the kids, so we need to be sure we’re approachable. I’m going to go in first. Give me ten minutes to try and make contact, and then you guys can come in and set up the equipment.”

  Emily reached across her middle to rub her arm. He stepped close and lowered his voice so only she could hear.

  “You’ll be okay for ten minutes?”

  She nodded.

  “Sydney and the guys are here. And the ghosts are generally only active in the ballroom, so you won’t experience anything until you come inside.” He pressed his lips to her cheek and gave her hand a squeeze.

  The door clicked shut behind him, and he walked to the center of the dark, quiet ballroom. Soft moonlight trickled in through the high windows, casting a silvery glow across the empty space. His footsteps echoed on the wooden dance floor as he made his way toward the stage. He turned in a circle, taking a deep breath and opening his channel to the spirits.

  “My team is investigating tonight. Alice, Jonathan, if you’re here, we’d love for you to come out and play.”

  The little girl giggled and appeared in front of him.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  She pointed to the stairway leading up to a balcony. Jonathan lifted his hand in a tiny wave and disappeared.

  He looked at Alice. “I have someone special here with me tonight. Her name is Emily, and she’s afraid of spirits.”

  She put her hand on her chest and furrowed her brow.

  “She’s afraid because she doesn’t know you. I need your help proving to her that ghosts aren’t scary, okay? Will you help me?”

  She grinned and nodded.

  “Fantastic.” He stood straight and addressed the room. “No tricks tonight if anyone else is here. You are not allowed to scare the redhead. And, Eli, you’re not allowed to show yourself at all. Stay away.”

  He’d already informed his team there’d be no pranking Emily tonight. Hopefully the ghosts would cooperate. Since he didn’t own this property, he didn’t have as much power over the spirits. But they usually did as he said.

  The door opened, and his team entered the room. Emily set her bag on a table and hurried toward him. She was trying to be brave, but her eyes were tight with worry. Hopefully by the end of the night, he could dispel her fears.

  “What do you want me to do?” She splayed her fingers and squeezed them into fists over and over.

  He needed to calm her nerves, so he pulled her close and slid a hand down her ass. “I can think of a few things.”

  “I’m serious.” She swatted his chest and pulled away, a playful grin dancing on her lips. Mission accomplished.

  “There are some toys in that bag over there. Set them up on the dance floor. I’m going to position the camera so we can catch any movement if the kids decide to play.”

  She took the bag to the middle of the floor and pulled out a red ball, some trucks, and a doll. As she turned to reach into the bag again, her foot bumped the ball, and it rolled across the floor.

  She squealed and jumped to her feet. “It’s moving already.” She ran toward him. “The ball moved.”

  He clamped his mouth shut, trying desperately not to laugh. Eric snickered, and he cast him a warning look. The last thing he needed was for Emily to leave now, before they even got started.

  “You kicked it, sweetheart.”

  She stopped and dropped her arms to her sides. “I did?”

  He nodded, still trying to fight a smile. “Were we rolling, Syd?”

  “Yep,” Sydney said. “Everything’s running.”

  “I can show you the footage. Your shoe bumped the ball when you were reaching for the bag. Do you want to see?”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “No. I believe you. I’ll be more careful.”

  He shrugged, trying to play it off. “No worries. It happens to everyone. And now it’s been what we call debunked. Most of the activity we pick up ends up being debunked as wind, machinery, human error.”

  He nodded toward the toys where Alice tiptoed toward the baby doll. “Look now, though. If the doll moves, that will be supernatural.”

  Alice reached for the toy, but her hand passed right through it. She furrowed her little brow and held her tongue between her teeth as she tried again. This time, she was able to focus her energy, and the doll’s arm lifted when she grabbed it. The ghost giggled and clapped her hands.

  Emily clutched his arm, digging her nails into his shirt. “Was that a ghost?” Her voice was strained, higher-pitched than normal.

  He patted her hand. “Yes, but she’s a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old. Look at the portrait.” He pointed to the framed sketch adorning the wall. “Does she look scary to you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to talk to her?”

  “I don’t. I can’t.” She tightened her grip on his arm.

  “You can talk. She can listen. We have ways for her to respond to people without the gift. Sydney’s talked to her before.”

  Sydney approached and put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “She likes to use the dowsing rods.” She held out a pair of metal L-shaped rods. “You hold them like this, and the spirits can move them to answer your questions.” She demonstrated holding the short end of a rod in each hand, pointing the long ends away from her body.

  Emily looked at him, and he nodded.

  “This is an EMF detector. It measures the electromagnetic field. When a spirit gets close to it, it makes a noise like this.” He walked toward Alice and held out the device. The little girl rolled her eyes and touched it, making a high-pitched beep sound from the machine as a red light blinked.

  “She doesn’t care much for our technology, but she’ll usually respond to the rods.” He looked at the spirit, and she nodded. “What do you say, Emily? Want to give it a try?”

  * * *

  Emily took a deep breath and tried to calm her sprinting heart. Eric sat on the stairs holding a small gray device while Jason fiddled with a black cylinder. She pointed to the guys. “What are they doing? That looks a lot less…interactive.”

  “EVP session,” Sydney said. “And that’s a REM Pod. It also measures fluctuations in EMF.”

  She shook her head and looked at Sean. “I don’t understand all your acronyms.”

  “EMF is electromagnetic field. A REM Pod radiates its own electromagnetic field and can detect changes in it. EVP is electronic voice phenomenon. Sometimes we can catch a spirit’s voice on a recorder, even when you can’t hear it with your ears.”

  “Can we do that instead?” The idea of holding something while a ghost moved it had her trembling.

  “We will,” Sean said. “I’ll have a recorder running the whole time. But Alice really likes the rods.”

  Sydney offered the metal sticks to her, and she took them. She needed to get over this fear, and Sean seemed to think it was safe. Surely he wouldn’t ask her to do anything that could get her hurt. “Okay. What do I do?”

  “Sit here.” He guided her to the steps leading up to the stage. “She’ll move the left rod for yes and the right one for no. Are you ready, Alice?”

  Emily nodded. “Oh, you weren’
t talking to me.”

  He sat next to her and bumped her shoulder with his. “Are you ready, Emily?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Ask her a yes or no question.”

  “Okay. Umm…hi, Alice. I’m Emily. How old are you?” Nothing happened. She glanced at Sean.

  “She can only answer questions with a yes or no answer.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut and berated herself for asking such a stupid question. “Do you like the ballroom?” The rod in her left hand slowly turned ninety degrees. Her heart rate kicked up, and her stomach twisted. “Oh, god. Is that a yes? Did she just answer me?”

  Sean chuckled and rubbed her back. “She did. You’re doing great. Ask her something else.”

  “What do you like about the ballroom? Oh, shoot. She can’t answer that.” She glanced at Sean, and his eyes grew wide.

  “She said she likes the dancing. I’ve asked her that question many times, and she just giggles. Ask another question.”

  “Did you die here in the hotel?” The right rod twisted in her hand, and excitement bubbled in her chest. “Where did you die?”

  Sean sat silently, staring at the empty space in front of her. “She said it wasn’t a hotel when she died.” He turned to Emily and lowered his voice. “Don’t ask her anything else about her death. She doesn’t like to talk about it, and I want her to stick around tonight.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed the thickness from her throat. She was actually communicating with a ghost. “I saw the portrait Sean drew of you and the little boy. Is that your brother?” The left rod moved. “This is so cool.”

  Sean grinned. “You like Emily, don’t you?” The left rod moved, and he held out the recorder. “Can you say that really loud so maybe she can hear you?” He paused. “And say again what you want her to do. I don’t think she’ll believe me unless she hears it from you.” He laughed. “Thank you, Alice. You go rest now.” He took the rods and set them on the stage.

  “She’s gone?”

  “It takes a lot of energy for spirits to communicate like that. She needs to recharge. But listen, let’s see if we caught her voice.” He pressed a button on the recorder and held it up to her ear. Sean’s voice came through first, asking her if she liked Emily. Then a tiny, muffled sound.