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

by M. L. Bullock

  Beverly nodded and tilted her pretty head as if she were listening to someone none of us could hear. Except Sierra’s face said it all. Deter was very near to Carl. “Put your mind at rest, Carl,” Beverly said. “He’s better than ever; he’s not broken anymore. I see scribbling, like graffiti. Oh yes, he scribbled a lot at the end. He says he didn’t mean to frighten anyone. It’s just that he couldn’t express what he wanted to say. Deter saw a spirit before he died, a young girl. He says he could not understand what it was she wanted from him then—and that frightened him. He was trying to warn you when a warning wasn’t really necessary. Claudette does not want to harm anyone. She wants to be remembered. She wants justice.”

  “The girl from the journal, Carl! That Claudette.” Sierra’s excitement was contagious. Cassidy and Carl nodded as Sierra continued, “She wanted Gabrielle to help her, to tell the truth about what she saw. But poor Gabrielle, she went mad. She could not help anyone.” Now she was crying. “Please, Beverly, I know Gabrielle is here, please help her.”

  “Oh…” Beverly said with her eyes open now. “I came for Claudette. I speak for her now. She wants to know: Carl, will you speak for her? You know the truth, you read the truth in that book. Will you tell the world what happened to her? Tell them that she was murdered. The priest knew what he was doing. He killed them all because he wanted to rid the ship of the disease. All of them. Yes, it was yellow fever, but many of them would have survived if he had only waited for them to recover. A man in authority over him ordered him to leave the sick behind before they landed, and so he did. He killed them all. Some were already dead, but some were not. Claudette was still alive. Speak for her, Carl. Promise her, and she will leave you alone! She was the one who screamed at you, but she was just trying to get your attention. That’s all she was trying to do.”

  “My God, I can hardly believe this. Yes, of course, I will speak for her. I will tell the world what I have discovered about that fateful journey on the Pelican. In fact, I will give a lecture on this new discovery. I have the book to prove it, thanks to Sierra.”

  “Ah, and there she goes. I see her smiling. Her beauty has been restored; what lovely blond curls and dimpled cheeks. She is made whole now. Thank you, Carl. You did something no one else could do for her. You set her spirit free.” Beverly clapped her hands and said a prayer for Claudette as she left. The room felt lighter, less frightening, but there was still something lingering.

  “Oh, and those others, she took them with her. Those girls from of old, the Pelican Girls, they stuck by her. She called them and they came, but now they have gone. Claudette doesn’t need their help anymore. She is free.”

  Sierra smiled proudly, and Joshua kissed her on the top of the head. I didn’t scold him for his lack of professionalism. I couldn’t help but smile too. These investigations rarely turned out this way. It was usually terrifying, and sometimes shots were fired—just ask Peter. Other times, you showed up and nothing happened. The past few nights, we’d seen it all, and it looked like our work here was coming to an end. This was a happy night.

  Except Cassidy looked miserable. Beverly noticed it too.

  “What is it, sister-psychic? Why are you so down?”

  Cassidy took her hands. “Gabrielle needs me. She is lost, stuck in between. She is alone and has been for a very long time. And I can’t help her.”

  I put my arms around her. I knew she was thinking about Kylie. Cassidy had the biggest heart of any woman I knew.

  “Let’s try, Cassidy.” Sierra joined us and took Cassidy’s hand, and Beverly took the other. “Gabrielle Bonet Batiste, are you here?” Sierra asked.

  Yes, I am here…

  No digital recorder necessary. We could plainly hear her voice.

  “Gabrielle, I am Sierra. Claudette is free now. She is gone. Can you see her?”

  Clau-dette, I cannot find you…Clau-dette, I am sorry…come to me, Clau-dette…

  “Oh dear, I was afraid of that,” Beverly said sadly. “I felt it, but I was hoping I was wrong. She’s had a breakdown of sorts.”

  “So had Deter, but he was okay,” Cassidy said defensively.

  “It is not the same, Cassidy. Deter had dementia, a disease that affects the mind, but Gabrielle went mad. Her life was not kind to her; it left her a shell of who she had been. Spirits don’t always come back from that.”

  “What do I do, then? Gabrielle? Can you hear me? Claudette is gone! She’s not here anymore. You did your best, but it is over. Go find your Poppa! Go find Jean!”

  And then we heard weeping and, as sure as my name is Midas Demopolis, a girl appeared. A girl in a white dress with a cloud of dark hair held back with two silver barrettes. She was old-world beautiful with dark brows, dark eyes and pale skin.

  This was Gabrielle! She walked through us weeping and vanished into the boat. She wept for a little while longer, and then the sound stopped.

  “Is she gone? Did she pass over?” Cassidy asked hopefully.

  “Not yet, sister,” Beverly said softly. “With spirits such as these, you have to be patient. But she knows you. She knows you want to help her. She’s going to go where you go, and she is drawn to you because of the other spirit.”

  “You mean Claudette? But she’s gone.”

  “No, not her. I mean the little red-haired girl who follows you around all the time. She’s got your eyes. She likes to stick her tongue out at me. Her name starts with a K. Is it Kate? Katie, Kayley. Nope. I have it. It’s Kylie! That’s her.” Beverly was quite proud of her observation, but I felt Cassidy go slack in my arms.

  “She’s gone, Midas. I knew it but didn’t want to believe it. My heart can’t take it.”

  “I am so sorry, Cassidy. She is still with you. She loves you so much, and she likes Midas. She said to tell you, she wants to be called Little Sister, too.”

  Cassidy cried, and I cried with her. This touched us both now, and I knew for sure what I had to do for my girlfriend.

  “One more thing, Cassidy. Gabrielle likes your sister. She reminds her of Claudette. I think wherever you two go, she is bound to follow. Don’t let that make you fearful, I think it’s a good thing. Give Gabrielle time to figure out what you’ve done for her and Claudette. I think one day you’ll wake up and she’s going to be gone.”

  Suddenly, Carl was there. He put something in Cassidy’s hand and whispered, “When you see Gabrielle, give her this. This might be what she’s looking for. I don’t know why I’m saying that, but I feel it is true.”

  Sierra smiled wide and said, “Carl, are you psychic too?”

  “I guess I am. Who would have believed it? Please don’t tell my wife.”

  We laughed about that, all except Cassidy. I excused us and we went outside, leaving the rest of the investigation to Sierra to handle. She was doing a great job, and I was proud of her.

  “Let me take you home, Cassidy.”

  “Only if you’ll stay with me. I don’t want to be alone tonight, Midas. I need you.”

  “Not like I need you, Cassidy.”

  We kissed and drove away. It was time to leave the spirits behind.

  Epilogue—Cassidy

  The rain had passed and left the air smelling fresh and clean. Even though it was technically still winter, shoots of green were appearing everywhere. Midas’ vehicle rolled to a stop as we pulled into Mobile Memorial Gardens. Yes, this was one of the most beautiful places in the city. Dotted up top of the rolling hills were well-kept grave markers. Just beyond this area was a small pond and mausoleum. In this section of Memorial Gardens were the memorial stones, places for remembering lost loved ones who were truly lost like my Kylie. She deserved to be remembered. I needed to remember her like this. And I knew she was gone even though I did not know where her body was located. Her spirit had been with me the whole time.

  “Midas, thank you. Thank you for…all this.” Midas was elegantly dressed today in a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. He’d been quiet this morning, and I welcomed the
silence.

  “I love you, Cassidy Wright.” His voice broke, and he squeezed my hand. Even though he had never met Kylie, this was an emotional event for him too. His cousin Dominic had been laid to rest nearby, and we were going to visit him before we left today.

  We rarely made declarations of love, and that’s what made them so special. Some folks told one another “I love you” every moment of every day, but not us. We were careful with those statements, and to me that meant we really meant them. Today of all days, I welcomed hearing it.

  “I love you too, Midas Demopolis.”

  A girl, a young teenager with long, straight blond hair, waited a few feet away on the grassy curb. I recognized her even though I had not seen her in many years.

  “Angela?” I said as I opened the car door. With a smile, she walked toward me like the tomboy I remembered. Little Angela Michaelson had been Kylie’s best friend, and now here she was almost grown. Seeing her alive and well was bittersweet. We immediately hugged, and I couldn’t help but smile even on this sad day. Kylie would want to see this. Maybe she was seeing us right now…

  “Thank you for coming, Angela. Is your mom here?”

  “Yes, Cassidy. She’s just over there waiting with everyone else.”

  “Everyone else?” I looked back at Midas, who was putting the keys in his pocket and coming up behind us. I asked again, “Everyone else? Who all is here?”

  “Only the people that matter.” He put his arm around my waist, and we walked up the hill. A green canopy had been raised over Kylie’s memorial stone. Around the stone and beyond it were dozens of people, many of whom I had not seen in ages. They welcomed me with hugs and smiles and tears. My friend and former boss Desiree Chalmette hugged me a long time.

  “I missed you, my friend.” I wept at seeing all those familiar faces. Imagine, I had felt so alone so often, but all these people, they knew me, they knew Kylie. We were not forgotten. And to make things even better, the entire Gulf Coast Paranormal team was there: Sierra and Joshua, Peter, Aaron, Helen and Bruce. Even a few of our former clients had come by Kylie’s memorial stone to pay their respects. Finally, I hugged Sierra.

  “You had to have done this. Midas isn’t this great at organization,” I said with a teary smile.

  “You’d be surprised at how involved he was in the planning. It was a team effort,” Joshua said as he hugged his wife and then me.

  Kylie was lost to me, but in some strange way, she remained with me. And I had a family now, a weird, wonderful family who’d gone out of their way to make this happen for my sister and me. I would never forget them. I would never forget this. As people left, I sat in the chair the garden director had placed next to my sister’s memorial stone. It was nice to be alone with Kylie for a few minutes.

  “I almost forgot.” I reached in my pocket, pulled out the comb I’d wrapped in a handkerchief and placed it at the base of the memorial. It seemed right to leave Gabrielle’s comb here. “Kylie, there’s a girl here, Gabrielle. This is her comb. I’m going to leave this here for her, but I want you to help her, Kylie. Help Gabrielle find who she is looking for; she’s lost, but you’re not. I know you’re here, with me.”

  I wiped a few tears away and continued, “Gabrielle Bonet, I know things in life were very unfair for you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you; neither did Claudette or your Poppa. But I can’t fix the past, Gabrielle, and neither can you. Please, let my sister help you find peace. Kylie’s good at being a friend.”

  I closed my eyes and basked in the warm sunshine. Birds were chirping in a nearby weeping willow, and I heard soft laughter in my ear.

  Kylie!

  “Are you ready to go, or do you need a little more time?” Midas asked sweetly.

  I held my hand out to him, and he helped me up from the chair. “No, I don’t need any more time. I’m ready.” I slid my oversized sunglasses on, and together we left the Memorial Gardens and headed to his place. My GCP family was coming over for a special meal prepared by Papa Angelos. I would enjoy every minute of it, but I already knew what I would be doing tonight.

  Tonight, I would paint my mother. I had questions that only she could answer. I hoped they were answers I didn’t regret hearing. But whatever the outcome, I wanted to know. I had to.

  Before we drove away, Midas and I embraced. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he held me for a moment. I said softly, “I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Thank you.”

  “And I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. I love you, Cassidy.”

  And all was right with the world. At least for a little while.

  The Ghost of Harrington Farm

  Book Eight

  Gulf Coast Paranormal Series

  By M.L. Bullock

  Text copyright © 2018 Monica L. Bullock

  All rights reserved

  Dedication

  For Carly-By-Chance.

  Prologue—Private Plum Darcy

  Patch Town, Mississippi

  1864

  Lieutenant Bart Humphries was no friend of mine, but we wore the same uniform, which made us brothers, at least until this war was over. Although I had no siblings, I had cousins, and that was as good as having brothers or sisters. I hoped that Leevale and Thomas survived this damned dust-up; I hoped it and prayed it every day. My back ached, my feet were swollen in my shoes, and my hands shook with hunger, but I swore on Aunt Ruby’s Bible that I would find my way back to Kentucky. We’d all taken that oath, all us Darcy boys. Our aunt insisted on it, and the three of us didn’t fear much of anything except Aunt Ruby and her Bible.

  I’ll find my way back, Aunt Ruby. All I have to do is make it one more day.

  With Bart leading the way, it was not going to be an easy task to trek back to Pointe County, Kentucky. I never considered myself to be a deep thinker, but the war had a way of making all men philosophers. After what I’d seen in recent days, I came to the sad conclusion that you could be a good man and a bad leader all at the same time. Lieutenant Humphries was living proof of this horrible truth. Maybe I would have been his friend if this war hadn’t spilled into our backyards. Nah, probably not. I wasn’t pedigreed. Not like him. His father was a judge, a politician. I never knew mine. Seen him once is all.

  Even without Humphries’ poor leadership, surviving to see another sunrise proved a difficult thing nowadays. But I’d have to survive. Aunt Ruby needed us to come home and plow the field. We needed to set the new fence posts as we all promised we’d do as soon as we made it home. I’d probably have to track down Lester, who had a tendency to wander whenever the mood struck him. How that old mule had lived so long was beyond me.

  Yes, ma’am, Aunt Ruby. I just have to make it one more day.

  I encouraged myself with that thought as I stared at the bottom of Bart’s worn boots, which were just inches from my face. We’d been perched in this spot for the past thirty minutes or so. The sun beat down on my neck and intensified my perpetual burn. My gun was as empty as my cracker tin. It felt like it weighed fifty pounds, and the pain in my stomach increased by the minute. We were lying on the side of a hill, one covered in blackberry briars, but there wasn’t a berry to be seen. Nothing for our trouble except scratches.

  Better to be scratched than dead, Darcy. Better to pluck out a few stickers than a few bullets. And from what I had seen of the lieutenant’s knife work, I was not sure I would survive his ministrations.

  So, I remained completely still on the side of the hill waiting to see if we would advance or retreat to the tree line. If I’d had my druthers, I would have opted for the retreat. We could hunt for food easily enough. I could, at least. We’d been wandering the woods for three days now. Got separated from the battalion back in Jackson. I reminded the lieutenant of our orders; that we were expected to flank to the left to take up the slack in the line, but he insisted we follow the creek and position further south to pick off the stragglers. Any idiot could see that we were going in the wrong directio
n. The Kentucky 21st needed us; the Union army was set to take Jackson, yet here we were traipsing down a creek.

  And now Young Springfield and another man, whose name I did not know, lay dead, picked off by an unknown sniper in those very woods. The Jasper boys called me a fool when I told them we needed to follow the lieutenant. I spat at the sight of him turning tail, but I did not dally. After he lit out for the woods, I ran after him, and somehow, by God’s mercy, I successfully avoided the bullets that flew around me. The air was thick with bullets and shrapnel, and everything moved so slowly. As I ran, I was amazed at how many there were; the rebel barrage was as thick as a swarm of black bees floating around me. Yet I didn’t flinch. I ran towards whatever fate was mine.

  All my life I had never seen a man run from a fight. Not even during my year of war, I had never known a coward like one Lieutenant Bart Humphries. And when I ran after him, all I could think about was bringing him back to the battalion commander. Humphries had to answer to somebody. Maybe not Plum Darcy, the bastard son of a failed preacher, but I would not forget my friend Young Springfield. I would not forget seeing his head exploding beside me, his body falling to the ground like a bag of rotten potatoes. I blinked the sweat out of my eyes and tried to forget that sound. That terrible sound. But here I was, three days later, still with the lieutenant. I told myself that I was keeping an eye on him, that I would bring him back to the commander, but maybe I was a coward too.

  God, kill me dead if I’m a coward. I’d rather die than be a coward, and don’t let Aunt Ruby hear such a thing about me.