Spooked on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 3)

by M. L. Bullock

  “I’m probably the last person who should give you advice about Sara, but I’m going to offer it anyway because we’re buds. We were friends long before she came along. Stay away from her, Peter. She’s a toxic person. Sara will always put her interests ahead of yours. That’s how she’s wired. I’ve never known you to fall apart like that. You’re on the right track now.”

  “I made a huge mistake; I know that. But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t care about her. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.”

  “Well, you need to because she doesn’t care about you or me.”

  An awkward pause followed my attempt at tough love. He finally said, “We’re never getting past this, are we?”

  “Come on, Pete. That’s not what I meant. You and I are more than good, and I’m excited about trying out this device. Look, I’m meeting with a client this afternoon; we might actually have an investigation, and you’ll never guess where.” Yeah, time to move this conversation along.

  He detached the sensor and placed it inside the egg carton foam-lined case. “The diner?”

  I shook my head with a grin. “No. You know Papa Angelos will never let us investigate that place.” I laughed out loud.

  “That’s a shame. I swear it’s haunted.”

  With another grin, I nodded in agreement. I’d often heard voices in the diner when no one was supposed to be there. “The client I’m meeting represents the Mobile History Museum. Carl Fletcher, the new curator, had an encounter. Something scared the hell out of him. His stepdaughter, Patricia, asked me to come speak with her.”

  “No kidding? Sweet. Might be the perfect place to try out our new gizmo. Lots of space in there.”

  “Don’t start packing yet. I’m going to meet with her this afternoon and do the walk-through. She seemed pretty hesitant about what we do, but then again, she called us. You want to go?”

  He closed the case and sighed. “I wish. My sister is coming to see me. She’s on me about moving to Pensacola. I told her I’m all right, but she doesn’t believe me. She has to see for herself. I swear, she’s more like a mother than a sister.”

  “Hey, you’ve got a lot of people who care about you. Tell me the truth, are you all right?” I had to know. Normally I wouldn’t pry into Pete’s business, but his recent struggles with alcohol had us all concerned. He seemed better, but I was no expert on addictions. “Have you found a support group? I remember you said you were looking.”

  With a half-smile, he nodded. “Yeah. I found a great group, actually. Right next to my apartment complex. I’m there five days a week unless I’m on an investigation, which I hope to be soon. The museum. Man, that would be cool. No telling what’s in there, with all those old artifacts and whatnot. Bruce would have a field day in there. Is he still out of town?”

  “Yes, as far as I know.”

  Obviously, my old friend didn’t want to talk about his addiction anymore. I could take a hint, but at least he knew that I cared enough to ask and that his sister wasn’t the only one keeping a close eye on him. The more people watching him, the better. To be fair, until last year, I’d never known Pete to drink more than the occasional beer. I didn’t blame his problems with alcohol on Sara, but I knew that her skill with head games could certainly drive a man to drink. When Sara loved you, she loved you…but when she wanted to make life hell for you, you got a double dose of it. Hardly seemed worth the trouble. I wondered how she and I ever made it as far as we did. And to think, I considered marrying her. For like a minute.

  “Yeah, but mum’s the word on the museum until we get the official go-ahead.”

  “Take Cassidy with you. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. I like her, Midas. She’s good for you. You’re one lucky guy.”

  The phone buzzed again. Another call from Sara. I debated what to do. If this was more of her legal crap, she’d have to talk to my lawyer. But what if it was something else?

  “And that’s my cue to leave. I’ll get the laptops configured for the new sensor so we don’t have to worry about which one to bring. I’m going to run by the office and upgrade Sierra’s computer too, if that’s okay. She’s griping about the spyware locking everything up.” He waited, and I wondered what he wanted. “May I have the key?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I wasn’t ready to drop a set of keys in Pete’s lap yet, but I did trust him enough to give him access to the place without someone looking over his shoulder. I hoped I wasn’t playing the fool again.

  “Later, Midas. Do yourself a favor. Don’t answer that call.”

  “Yeah. Good advice. Later, Pete.”

  He walked out of the house and closed the door behind him. Maybe he was right. What could Sara have to say to me? “Sorry I slept with your friend and took half the business”?

  I hit ignore again, went into the phone and blocked her number. The next person I called was Cassidy. I didn’t have a tinge of regret.

  Chapter Four—Cassidy

  When Midas called me, I was standing in front of my latest painting with Domino sleeping in my arms. After hours of frenzied painting, I’d taken a shower and changed my clothing. Surprisingly, I felt relaxed, not frightened or dissatisfied. This was good work, and more importantly, I felt like I’d connected with Gabrielle and maybe given her a voice. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened to her. I kissed Domino on the top of his fuzzy head as I dug my phone out of my pocket. He meowed happily and then complained because I wasn’t holding him exactly like he wanted.

  My moody kitten. How can I love you so much, so quickly?

  “Hi, sexy,” I answered my boyfriend’s call playfully. My fingers lingered over the almost-dry paint. Touching one of my paintings like this had occasionally triggered visions of the past. My strange ability had proven helpful for our Gulf Coast Paranormal team. I still had to shake my head at the thought—I was a paranormal investigator. Who would have imagined it? However, I knew that this particular illustration wasn’t quite ready to share. Yeah, something (or someone) was missing.

  “Oh, hi,” was his surprised reply. Not quite what I was hoping for. Was I being too flirtatious? He didn’t usually object when I joked around with him. “I’ve got to meet a potential client in about an hour. I was hoping you might accompany me. Maybe we can grab some lunch after.”

  “Yeah, that would be great. How soon?”

  “About fifteen minutes?”

  Domino began to dig his claws into my arm as he woke up. He smacked and gazed at me with sleepy eyes. It was like he knew I was about to leave him. “Good thing I’m dressed and ready to go. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  “We? Is Helen visiting?”

  “No, I’m talking about my furry kid, Domino. Midas, are you okay? You sound a bit edgy.”

  Now his voice sounded like warm honey, and I knew he wasn’t okay at all. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just antsy about this possible case. I’m on the way. Domino will have to stay home.”

  “Ten-four. See you soon, Midas.”

  “Bye, uh, sexy.”

  I chuckled at his lame attempt at flirting. Midas was a direct-approach kind of guy, never one for mucking about with sexual innuendos and double entendre. I wasn’t either, not really, but I liked surprising him once in a while. Being too predictable was boring. I hung up and struggled to keep a hold of Domino, who was now wide awake and had decided he wanted to explore my studio. I didn’t plan on letting him have free rein in here; there was way too much for a curious kitten to get into. Like paint. Lots and lots of paint. Just like his human mom, Domino was kind of a klutz.

  “Nope. You might as well settle down,” I said as he noised his complaint repeatedly. To the painting, I said, “I’ll be back, Gabrielle. I promise.”

  I stepped out of the garage, locked it up and went inside to change my shirt and put on some boots. I was clean but not quite ready for prime time. I hadn’t planned on going anywhere, but I couldn’t say no to a potential investigation and spending time with my boyfriend. Midas didn’t
tell me if this gig was inside or outside, and I hadn’t thought to ask. The thing I’d learned about ghost hunting was to always be prepared. That was a good rule to follow in the paranormal field period. I’d taken to packing a backpack with power bars, bottled water, extra batteries and a backup digital recorder.

  “Come on, Domino. Let’s get dressed.” He played with me happily until I got to my bedroom door. Suddenly, the miscreant hissed and jumped out of my hands. He hit the floor with a thud, quickly recovered and disappeared. At least he didn’t scratch me this time. “Kitty? Are you okay?” I followed him into the kitchen. He appeared hungry but otherwise fine. No, that wasn’t right. Something was wrong with my cat. Domino didn’t want to go in my room anymore, and that bothered me. In fact, come to think of it, he didn’t sleep with me anymore. When I first brought him home, I couldn’t shake him off with a stick. Now, I couldn’t bribe him to take a step near my bedroom. Could this be evidence of paranormal activity? I’d heard that pets were sensitive to that sort of thing.

  God, I hate this. I don’t want to investigate my own home. I paused in my bedroom doorway. What if there was something in here?

  Uncle Derek, if you’re in here, please go away. We’ve had this discussion before. This is not cool at all, and you’re scaring my cat.

  A shadow passed outside my window and I gasped, but it wasn’t anything. Just a bird swooping from tree to tree. Nothing paranormal here, I assured myself as I stared out my window. But then I heard a cabinet door close in my bathroom. Had Domino snuck in here when I wasn’t looking?

  Please let that be Domino.

  It wasn’t. I searched the bathroom, but all the doors were closed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My red hair needed brushing, my eye makeup was a mess, and I looked like a total slob in my favorite painting t-shirt that read: “Mondays Suck.” No time to chase down phantom sounds.

  “I don’t have time for this.” I immediately began tidying myself up. I settled on a soft blue sweater, tucked it in my jeans, strapped on a belt and slid on my boots. The doorbell rang as I finished. “Coming!”

  I scurried down the hall and opened it with a smile, but there was no one there. “What the heck?” I said as I walked to the driveway. Nope. No one there either. I stood with my hands on my hips wondering if I was losing my mind. Cabinet doors banging in the bathroom. Doorbells ringing. Either I was hearing things or someone was having a laugh at my expense…or someone wanted to send me a message. I had a feeling I knew which it was.

  And then Midas pulled up. He waved casually at me like he expected to find me waiting in the driveway for him. Well, after my flirtatious greeting, he probably did expect it. He rolled his window down, and the smell of cologne wafted in my direction. Now, this was real. He was real. No phantom doorbells or banging cabinet doors. Yeah, I was ready to get out of here for a few hours. Maybe a little time away would help me settle down.

  “You look great. You ready to go?”

  “Not quite. Let me grab my pack.” I stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek and scurried back inside. Domino hissed at me and leaped on the couch to challenge me to some playtime. Grabbing my keys, backpack and jacket, I said goodbye to the fluffy feline and quickly left my suddenly creepy house behind.

  “What’s up?” Midas asked as I buckled up.

  “Oh, nothing. I swear I thought you were already here; I thought I heard the doorbell. I must be hearing things. So, where are we headed?”

  “To the Mobile History Museum. We’re meeting a lady named Patricia Atkins. She’s the stepdaughter of the current curator, Carl Fletcher. Carl saw something that shook him up pretty good, but I’ll let Patricia explain her story. I only got bits and pieces, and I wouldn’t want to mislead you.”

  “You? Never.” I was being serious. Midas had integrity in everything he did and a memory like an elephant’s. For example, I didn’t recall ever telling him my birthday was next week, but he knew. He confessed later that he peeked at my driver’s license when I got carded at Shambeau’s Bar and Grill, but who does that? I was ashamed to say I didn’t have his birthdate memorized. Not yet.

  He was in a strangely quiet mood. He was generally quiet, but he seemed even more thoughtful today. Midas Demopolis was a handsome man. He had a chiseled face and was a fitness buff. He took pride in his appearance and health, but he wasn’t full of himself, not like you might expect. Midas had a soft heart and liked people. Yep. I was crazy about him, and I liked him more than I wanted to admit to myself.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “Check my phone. Look at the missed call list.”

  “Why?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind, take a look.”

  “All right,” I said slowly. I didn’t see anything unusual. Someone had called him seven times, and he hadn’t taken the call seven times. What was up with that? Why would he have me check his missed call list? And then it hit me. There was no name on the number. I had a suspicion of who the caller was.

  “Sara,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah. She’s calling me nonstop for some freaking reason,” he said as he took back his phone and put it back in the center console. “I have no idea why she’s calling, and I sure don’t want to talk to her.”

  “Why?” I asked as he navigated the traffic like a race car driver. Yep, he was high-strung today.

  He shrugged and glanced at me as if I’d lost my marbles. “Do you have to ask that? I thought as my girlfriend you might want to know about it. She’s not likely to be calling with good news.”

  “Okay…”

  “What?” He shot me a look as he made a right turn.

  “Well, I would want to know what my ex-business partner wanted. Especially if he or she called me seven times.”

  “So, if Mike called you, you would want to talk to him?”

  That stung; that’s not at all what I said, and Mike and I never owned a business together, or had anything together. I hadn’t thought about my ex-boyfriend in forever, and I resented having Midas bring him into this.

  He must have sensed he’d crossed a line because he added, “You know about our history, Cassidy. Sara and me. I don’t want to invite that madness back into my life. Knowing her, she’d make sure that you knew she was reaching out to me. I don’t want to keep secrets.”

  Now it was my turn to shrug. “I wasn’t suggesting that you invite her back into your life, obviously, or that you keep secrets from me. I was just saying don’t be a baby and answer the darn phone.” Yeah, I was ticked now.

  “You think I’m being immature?”

  “Let’s talk about something else,” I suggested, but neither of us spoke.

  We rode the rest of the way in silence, and I couldn’t help but notice Midas’ jaw pop as he parallel-parked in front of the museum. I turned my attention to the museum. It was a bright white building and not a new one either. The front of the building had false arched windows, two sets of double doors, one on either side of the façade, and a strange tower in the center. I’d seen it before; in fact, I’d visited once and remembered thinking it had some unique architecture. More like something you’d see in the Caribbean with its stucco walls and bright white paint.

  Uh huh. I can feel a presence here. Didn’t feel that before.

  “You ready?”

  I never took my eyes off the building. I felt a strange pull to explore every inch of it.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I hoped I was right.

  Chapter Five—Cassidy

  Midas grabbed his leather-bound notebook from the backseat and locked the SUV. “Hey, why don’t you let me do the note-taking on this case?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he answered with a grateful smile. “You know what my handwriting looks like.”

  I grinned. “Yep.”

  Evidently, Patricia Atkins knew what time we were coming because she met us at the front door. At least I assumed it was the client. “You must be Midas. I’m Patricia Atkins,”
she said as she extended her hand and gave me a polite nod. “Right this way, please.” With a cautious eye to the receptionist, she said, “You may go home now, Tina. Thank you.”

  We followed Miss Atkins to an out-of-the-way office, and she quickly closed the door behind us and waved us to two chairs. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  “This is one of my team members, Cassidy Wright.”

  “Hi, Cassidy.”

  “Hi.”

  Midas said politely, “We’re here to help in whatever way we can. What’s going on?”

  I opened the notebook, ready to jot down notes, but Patricia wasn’t as anxious to get started as we were. If I had to guess, I’d say the blonde was about thirty-five. She was tall and fit and had a sprinkling of brown freckles across her nose. “I hope you understand how important it is to keep what I’m going to tell you out of the public space. No blogs, social media posts or pictures about any of this. The museum has an unveiling next week; it’s our most important exhibit to date, and we’ve had some impressive ones in the past. You may have seen the Egyptian exhibit, from the Amarna period, last year. It made news around the country.”

  “I do remember seeing that one. Eighteenth dynasty, right?” I asked, hoping to move the conversation along.

  “Yes, that’s the one,” she said proudly. “But this one, this one is even bigger. My stepfather, Carl Fletcher, and his late friend Deter Simon had a theory about the lost Fort Louis de la Louisiane…and what we plan to show at this upcoming exhibit might change everything. It’s a matter of historical importance, not to mention regional pride.”

  “We want to help get to the bottom of whatever disturbance you experienced, and I can assure you that we are very discreet,” Midas replied in a patient yet professional manner.

  Patricia twisted her lips thoughtfully. I really wasn’t sure what her hang-up was; she called Gulf Coast Paranormal, not the other way around. “And there’s really no cost?”