The Good, The Bad and The Ghostly ((Paranromal Western Romance))

by Keta Diablo

  "Not until I finish punishing Georgie." Julia took another swig from the flask. "And I’m not sure I’m going to heaven anyway. Not with all the things I’ve done."

  "But you were forced to do them."

  "Think God will know the difference?"

  "I do. Absolutely."

  "Regardless of where I go after this, I’m going to make sure the world knows Georgie for who he really is first."

  Talk about a conundrum. Annabelle needed to talk this over with Cole. "Will you wait right here for me? I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to let Cole know that we’re all right."

  "Make it fast," Julia said, the anger flooding back into her voice. "I don’t trust him or any other man for that matter."

  "He’s a good man. I understand why you don’t believe that yet but you will."

  Annabelle walked out of the front door to find Cole leaned up against the façade of the building. He rushed toward her, arms extended.

  "Are you alright? Did she hurt you? How’s your cut?"

  She fell into his embrace, tucking her face into the hardness of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. "I’m fine but I’m not sure what we’re going to do." She looked up at him. "There’s not an easy solution to this haunting."

  He raised one eyebrow. "Explain."

  "Our ghost Julia was once the lover of Preston G. Astonbury. He was the ‘G’ in the letter. He lured her here under false pretenses and forced her into a position where she’d have to sell herself to survive. He advertised her virginity. In the newspaper. Can you imagine? After months of heartbreak, booze and laudanum, she took her own life."

  "Why is she haunting the place?"

  "She’s determined to ruin Astonbury and protect the other girls from him."

  "Protect them?"

  "According to her, he’s not only the President of Midas Mining, he’s got a sideline. He owns dozens of saloons, all over the West, and he finds women like her to work in them. When Julia met him on the train, she had no idea who he was. He told her his name was George and that he worked for the railroad, not that he owned it."

  "It seems unlikely to me. Maybe she’s confused."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Astonbury seems like an awfully big fish to be dealing in prostitution at that level."

  "He owns saloons all over the West and picks women like her, women of breeding that he can advertise, to bring in some big money."

  "How does he convince them to become working girls?"

  "Love and the promise of marriage. She ran away from home to meet him in Reno. He promised he'd pick her up and take her to Frisco where they’d marry. He never showed, she ran out of money. He sent a telegram telling her that Busbee would help her and she did help her. Right into the life that forced her to take her own life, but only after he profited."

  It was all beginning to make sense. Preston Astonbury was in business with Katherine Busbee. Son of a bitch. Where did that leave his employer? Busbee had indicated that she had a special relationship with Tremayne. Was he part owner in The Blade, too?

  Everything Cole thought he knew tilted sideways. "That’s why it only started recently. Everything was fine until he was announced as the guest of honor for the Empire Extravaganza."

  "Exactly. She’s refusing to stop until everyone knows who he really is."

  Cole felt the beginnings of a massive headache beginning at the base of his skull. "So what do we do?"

  "I was hoping you’d have a brilliant idea."

  Cole whistled and shook his head. "This is a fine mess."

  "It sure is." She stepped back into his embrace.

  Chapter Seven

  Cole had never been more on edge. In the half an hour Anna had stayed inside The Blade with Julia, he’d imagined at least ten ways to rescue her if it came to that. Now that she was safe, and in his arms, he could think rationally again.

  One: In order to keep his job, he had to rid The Blade of Julia.

  Two: Julia’s goal was going to remain at The Blade until she could expose Astonbury.

  Three: Exposing Astonbury, if he was in fact in business with Tremayne, might cost him his job.

  Four: If The Blade was forced to close permanently, he’d be the least popular man in Reno.

  Five: He needed Anna to help him find the perfect solution. If there even was one.

  "I have no idea where to start."

  She shook her head. "Everything is at sixes and sevens. If we solve one problem, we create another one."

  "Let me talk to her."

  Anna quickly stepped between him and the door. "That’s not a good idea. Give me one more shot at it. I think she trusts me."

  He didn’t want to let her go. After seeing what Julia was capable of, he didn’t want to take any chances with Anna’s safety, but she did have a point. "I’ll wait right here."

  She turned to go and he noticed that a droplet of blood from the cut on her cheek had fallen onto the shoulder of her new yellow dress. She’d been heartbroken when she discovered it and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, have that. He’d buy her a new one as soon as they solved this case.

  Unless he was out of a job.

  * * *

  When Annabelle reentered The Blade, Julia was sitting on a barstool, her flask in front of her. Annabelle wondered if it was perpetually full or if she had to refill it from the bottles behind the bar. It’s not like anyone would notice a ghost. At least not until she started screaming like a banshee and scaring everyone completely out of their wits.

  "I’m back."

  Julia gestured toward the stool beside her and Annabelle sat. "He’s still out there?"

  Annabelle nodded. "Why five past eleven every night?"

  "It’s scarier that way."

  Annabelle laughed. "I guess you’re right."

  The two women, one dead and one alive, sat side by side on the barstools in silence for several minutes. Finally, Annabelle asked, "What would it take for you to leave this place?"

  "Your promise that Astonbury can’t do what he did to me to other women, that everyone will know who he really is, I’ll leave." Her face was expressionless and Annabelle knew there was no room to negotiate.

  "For good?"

  Julia nodded. "You have my word." Her ghostly form began to shimmer, wrinkle. "I’m tired now. So tired." She faded, layer after layer, until there was nothing left of the woman in green.

  Annabelle sat on the barstool and wished she had her own flask.

  * * *

  By the time he and Anna locked up The Blade and started walking back toward the office, Cole’s nerves were shot. His hands were shaking and his heart was pounding so fast he felt it in the back of his throat. He loved his job, at least he had until he’d come to Reno, but if Tremayne was involved in something unsavory, it certainly took the shine off the apple.

  "We’ll figure something out," Anna said, as if reading his thoughts. "Let’s have some supper and a good think."

  He’d grown so attached to Anna, he had no idea how he was going to put her on a train to Kentucky. "That sounds perfect."

  They stopped by The Lick Skillet and ate mostly in silence. Anna’s eyes were tired and her shoulders drooped with the weight of the day. When they finished, they headed back to the office and he sat behind the desk facing her on the sofa.

  "There’s simply no way to accomplish our goals, not without putting everything in jeopardy."

  "What if we approach it a different way?" Anna asked. She had a gleam in her eyes. "In a way that helps everyone?"

  "Shoot," Cole said.

  "If Astonbury wanted everyone to know that he had his hand in saloons as well as railroads, then he’ll tell everyone himself. He’s hiding it on purpose."

  "So?"

  "So, we exploit that."

  "How?"

  She leaned forward and her scent wafted across the desk. "We make a deal with the man himself."

  "There’s no way we can get to him personally." Co
le didn’t feel good about that. He didn’t like making deals with the devil, regardless of who that devil might be. "I don’t think that will work anyway. There’s a high likelihood that Astonbury would rather shutter The Blade than to reveal himself or admit to anything that would tarnish his railroad reputation."

  "We need to talk to Katherine Busbee."

  "I can talk to her."

  Cole shook his head. "Nope. I want to do it alone."

  Anna swallowed hard. She’d blown the case wide open and without her, he’d still be struggling to find out who was haunting The Blade, but he wouldn’t draw her any farther into the case. "If you must," she said. Her voice was quiet and he heard the disappointment in it. "As long as you tell me exactly what happens."

  "I will."

  * * *

  Cole walked her to the door. "Thanks for all you’ve done today."

  The evening sun glinted off the stubble on his cheeks and she fought the urge to run the tip of her finger along the edge of his jaw. He was tired, too; she saw it in his eyes and in the way he held his shoulders.

  "I’m sorry it created more problems than it fixed."

  He shrugged. "Not your fault."

  "I’ll be at the office a little early tomorrow so I can make a pot of coffee before you arrive."

  "I’ll bring some soda biscuits from Mrs. Stampley’s. If we’re lucky, she’ll stick some sausage in them."

  "See you then." She opened the door to her room and looked over her shoulder at him. He tipped his hat to her and walked down the stairs. He cut a fine figure, tall and slender and she found her mind wandering back to the kiss. For the hundredth time in a few hours. She watched until he’d walked around the corner before going inside.

  After unlacing her boots, she fell back onto the bed, still in her dress. The day had been utterly exhausting, an exercise in extremes, and even though it wasn’t yet seven o’clock, she could barely keep her eyes open. She had to hang her dress up, brush the dust off and wipe off her boots but the day had exhausted her. She only intended to close her eyes for a minute but she fell fast asleep before she could think any more about and Preston Astonbury. Preston G. Astonbury.

  * * *

  Cole dreaded the meeting with Katherine Busbee. Not least of all because he had no idea where her loyalties might lie. Was she really a saloon owner who only wanted to be able to run her business without the interruption of a ghost? Or was she involved in a far more sinister plot, as Julia had suggested?

  And what about the agency? He’d given his life to the Tremayne Agency and now he had no idea how his employer fit into this puzzle.

  The more he rolled the problem around in his head, the more he wanted immediate answers. Instead of going home, he walked toward Mrs. Busbee’s hotel. The Goldrush was the nicest hotel in town and he had no doubt she was occupying the Californian Suite, especially if Julia was telling the truth. She’d have gotten a cut of the money Astonbury made off the women he was forcing into prostitution.

  When he arrived at the hotel, it was mid-afternoon. If he could meet with Mrs. Busbee and get to the bottom of her association with Tremayne and Astonbury, he might be able to put this case in the solved column by dark.

  Although there was one downside to solving the haunting at The Blade. He’d have to say good-bye to Annabelle.

  He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to do that.

  At the front desk, he asked for Mrs. Busbee and an employee was dispatched to summon her. He waited nearly ten minutes until she came downstairs. Dressed in a chocolate brown dress with a low neck, she swept down the stairs with a grace he’d expect from a stage actress. Her makeup was carefully applied and she wore several rings on each finger.

  Even in a warm, earthy color, there was a coldness about her that permeated the air in the hotel.

  "Agent Swansby," she said, dipping her head slightly.

  "Mrs. Busbee."

  The overpowering scent of a flowery perfume flooded his senses. The crisp acidity was nauseating.

  "I hope you have good news for me."

  "Is there someplace, other than The Blade, where we can speak privately?"

  "If you wanted to go up to my room, all you had to do was ask." Her voice was loud and it embarrassed Cole.

  "I’d rather—"

  "Follow me." She swept back up the stairs leaving him no choice but to follow. Her skirts swished making the sound of footsteps on dry leaves.

  When they arrived at the door of the Californian Suite, Katherine looked over her shoulder at him. The coy expression on her face made him very uncomfortable. "Come on in, darling. Make yourself comfortable."

  The room was large and well-appointed. A large, four-poster bed dominated the center of the room. He walked past it and sat on a horsehair sofa situated under the window that looked out over Sierra Street.

  Katherine sat on the edge of the bed and poured two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter. She offered one to him and at first he waved it off, but after the day he’d had, he thought better of it and took it. After he took a couple of sips, appreciating the sweet fire as it burned the back of his throat.

  "The Blade is being haunted by one of your former employees. I got some unexpected help from a friend of mine and she talked to a woman name Julia. Remember her?"

  Katherine’s eyes went wide. "But she took her own life years ago. The laudanum pushed her too far. Why would she be haunting the saloon now?"

  "Astonbury." Cole took a small sip of his drink and let the name sink hang in the air. He was gauging Katherine’s reaction to it, in relationship to Julia. The best way to take the measure of a person was in silence. Katherine fidgeted, played with the fringed trim of her dress and refused to meet Cole’s eye. Bull’s eye.

  "But what could he have to do with her?" She finally asked.

  "Didn’t he tell you to hire her?" He scooted to the edge of the sofa and leaned forward. "She says he told her to ask you for a job as a barmaid."

  Katherine exhaled loudly. "Maybe. Hell, it was years ago. I’ve been through dozens of girls since her death. I can’t remember." Her voice shook a bit and she fought to control it. She remembered plainly but she wasn’t going to admit it.

  Cole decided to apply a little more pressure. "Regardless, she was wronged by him and she refuses to stop haunting The Blade until his sins are exposed." He rose, drink in hand, and looked out the window. Turning his back on Katherine was a calculated move and it paid off quickly.

  "Which sins?"

  He pivoted on one heel. "Are there a lot of them?"

  Katherine stood up and began pacing around the room. "I have no idea. Mr. Astonbury was a good customer who turned into a good business partner. While we know each other and some of our endeavors intersect from time to time, I can assure you that I know very little about his day to day life."

  "You don’t have to tell me anything you’d rather keep confidential. However, if you want to get rid of Julia and reopen The Blade, you have to understand that there’s only one way to do that."

  "Why can’t you make her go?"

  "It’s not how these things work."

  "What does she want to expose?"

  "That he’s targeting young women of substance, promising them marriage and then forcing them into prostitution. She claims he advertised her virginity."

  Instead of the shock he’d expect from someone who had no idea she was in a partnership with such a man, she only blinked several times. "Who does she want to tell?"

  "Everyone. She intends to ruin him."

  "Ruin him?"

  Cole saw the flash of recognition. If Julia ruined Astonbury, she’d ruin Katherine by association and while Reno was a town that liked a good saloon and a good brothel, he had no doubt this tawdry affair would turn its collective stomach. He placed the glass on the side table. "Ruin him," he repeated.

  "That won’t do. It won’t do at all." She threw back the rest of the liquor in her glass. "I have to get out of town."

  "If you
had nothing to do with it—"

  "Whether I did or didn’t, everyone will assume I did." She grabbed several baubles from the dressing table and shoved them into her large satchel. "See yourself out."

  Cole rose. "One last question. Did the Tremayne Agency know this was going on?"

  Katherine’s eyes were as sharp and hard as obsidian. "You work for Nat. Find out yourself."

  Apparently the detective work never stopped.

  * * *

  "Katherine Busbee has decided it’s easier to leave town than to stay and face the music."

  Annabelle wasn’t surprised. In Kentucky, she would have been, but Nevada was an entirely different matter. "What’s our next move?"

  "We need to tell Julia."

  Even though the dreams had scared her and stolen her sleep for the better part of four years, now that she’d met Julia, she understood her power to help lost souls and it felt rewarding. She wished she’d pushed harder to become a full-fledged Tremayne Agent. "Tonight?"

  "Let’s save it for the morning."

  Even though she’d like to help Julia as soon as possible, Cole was right. Talking to ghosts exhausted her and she’d do better with a good night’s sleep. "I’ll be downstairs at the usual time."

  "We’ll go to The Blade at eight."

  Annabelle slept so soundly she didn’t dream. If she did, she didn’t remember it and that was a welcome respite. She woke to soft white sunlight streaming through the windows. She washed her face and slipped into her yellow dress. Looking into Julia’s small mirror, she noticed a small spot of blood where it had dripped from the cut on her cheek. She dabbed it with water, but the stain was set.

  "Just my luck," she said to herself as she grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

  At eight o’clock in the morning, Reno was awake and moving. The streets were filled with buggies and horses and women and children. Dust coated everything.

  Standing on the covered porch of the saloon, Cole took Annabelle’s hand. "Are you ready for this?"

  She nodded. "Stay here on the porch. I won’t be long." She pulled the hand mirror from her bag. "I thought she might want to destroy this before she goes."

  "She just might. She’s not afraid of a little mayhem." In the clear light of the morning, Cole’s eyes shone. He was more handsome than ever and Annabelle would be sad to leave him. In the past few weeks, he’d become her friend, her protector, and the star of more than one of her fantasies. "But then again, neither are you," he said with a wink.