The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1)

by Danielle Garrett

  When I finally accepted that there was nothing left to do, I shut off the lights and went back upstairs to my apartment, making sure to lock both the door at the bottom of the stairs and the door to my apartment. Sometimes I found it ironic that despite dealing with the dead on a nearly endless loop, I was still so afraid of the worst. In some ways, it made sense. I constantly met spirits who each had their own death story. Tragic accidents were far more common than murders, but I’d heard some truly horrifying stories over the years. Those were the ones that made me double-check my locks.

  I might be surrounded by the dead, but I wasn’t in a hurry to join them anytime soon.

  Chapter 4

  Unfortunately, the next time Lucas Greene crossed my path was not in the middle of a coffee shop. In fact, I was unfortunately under-caffeinated and not in a mood for the charming smile he threw my way. What, were we best friends now? Was that whole tackle routine some kind of bizarre bonding experience?

  Yeah, I wasn’t buying it.

  He wanted something.

  Hank, of Hank’s Hardware, was off in the back room rounding up the supplies to temporarily board up my door when Lucas came sauntering into the shop. “Morning … Miss,” he said. If that was another prompt to get my name, he was out of luck.

  I’d tried to avoid the bathroom mirror that morning, but had inadvertently caught a glimpse and knew the reality; I was a hot mess. A near-sleepless night had done nothing for the dark circles under my eyes, and the rough ponytail I’d raked my hair into was more frizz than finesse. There wasn’t time to bother with makeup even though I definitely could have used a few coats.

  As luck would have it, I actually had a jam-packed schedule for once. I had a list of arrangements to make for the funeral of a well-known resident that would be taking place in two days so I needed to get the shop back up and running as quickly as possible. Hank’s opened at nine a.m. and I was the first—technically only—one in line when the older man opened the doors.

  “Are you following me?” I growled at Lucas.

  He ignored my barbed question and casually sipped from the paper cup in his hand. The logo for the local coffee shop, Siren’s Song, was splashed on the side, and I could smell the savory nectar of the gods from five feet away. My mouth watered and I decided I’d take the long way back to Lily Pond and stop in at the gourmet shop. I was going to need the extra jolt to get me through the day. Besides, after the fiasco of the last twelve hours, I’d earned a treat.

  Lucas wandered the outskirts of the shop, his eyes roving the low shelves. In the light of day, I could see they were a dark green. They flicked over in my direction and caught me staring. He grinned and a wave of heat washed over me.

  Damn it.

  “If you’re not following me, then what are you doing here?”

  “I’m picking up a few things for the show.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “So you’re part security, part errand boy?”

  A flicker of irritation crossed his handsome face but he recovered quickly and rearranged his expression into a smug grin. “I’m a jack of all trades.”

  “You’re a jack something,” I muttered, turning back to the counter at the sound of footsteps on the polished cement floor.

  “Here you go, Scarlet,” Hank’s cheerful voice called as he emerged from the store room. He held up a bundle of particle board. “These oughta do the trick until you can get a new door. You need any help with the installation? My grandson, Drew, could come over and give you a hand after he gets done with school this afternoon.”

  I offered Hank a polite smile. “That’s all right, Hank. I think I’ve got it.”

  He gave me a skeptical glance but didn’t press the issue. “You need me to order a new security door?”

  I shook my head. “The landlord told me he’ll have someone out to replace the glass by the weekend.”

  “Very good.” Hank set the thin boards on the counter beside the register and started ringing up the purchase. He rattled off the total and I handed over my credit card, desperately hoping there was enough to cover the balance. The last thing I needed was for it to be declined in front of Lucas.

  Seconds later, the machine sputtered out a receipt and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I signed, handed the slip to Hank, and gathered up the boards. “Thanks again, Hank.”

  He tipped his faded ball cap at me, then turned away when the phone behind him started to ring.

  “Busted door, huh? That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. You sure you don’t need a hand putting these up?”

  I cringed at the offer and glanced over as Lucas sidled up beside me at the front door. “I got it. Thanks.”

  “At least let me help you out to your car, Scarlet.”

  I scowled at his use of my first name. He must have overheard Hank. “I didn’t drive here,” I replied, struggling to maneuver the boards so that I could get a hand free long enough to open the front door of the shop.

  Lucas moved in front of me and opened the door. “Obviously your feathers are still a little ruffled after last night. Let me make it up to you.” He tilted his head. “My truck’s right outside.”

  I glanced out the doorway and saw a jet-black Ford F-250 parked at the curb. It was an older model, but looked to be in good condition. Shifting my eyes back to Lucas, I arched an eyebrow. “I thought you had something to pick up? For the show, remember?”

  “I’ll come back when Hank’s not busy.”

  I looked over my shoulder to see that Hank was still on the phone. From the snippet of conversation that floated over to us, it sounded more like a recap of the weekend’s fishing expedition than official hardware store business.

  Frowning, I turned back to Lucas. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to carry all of this back to the shop, and you owe me for tackling me last night.”

  Lucas chuckled and followed me out to the curb, then dropped the tailgate and set his coffee cup down before turning to take the boards from me. When they were neatly arranged in the bed of the truck, he grabbed the cup, slammed the gate shut, and followed me around to the passenger door. “How long do you think you’re going to be mad at me?” he asked, his face too close to mine as he leaned in to manually unlock the door of the old truck.

  I sidestepped and he opened the door. I peered up at him a moment longer, completely baffled. “Why do you care?”

  “Call it idle curiosity.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” I answered, hoisting myself up into the cab of the truck. “I don’t even know you.”

  Lucas gave me a skeptical nod and then gently closed the door. He jogged around the front of the truck and swung himself into the driver seat. I stared out the window up at the red-and-white sign above Hank’s shop, ignoring the man in the seat beside me.

  “You’ll have to give me directions,” he said once he fired up the truck’s engine. His coffee cup sat in the cup holder between the seats. Beside it was a paper bag that was dotted with grease spots and smelled like heaven. He must have caught me staring—or heard my stomach rumbling. “There’s an extra muffin in that bag if you’re hungry,” he offered with an easy smile.

  He reached for the shifter but I reached out and blocked him.

  His eyes snapped to mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  He sighed. “Why are you making it so damned difficult?”

  I crossed my arms. “You can’t answer a question with another question.”

  “Fair enough,” he huffed. “I’m not a bad guy, Scarlet.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “Then what’s with the ice-queen routine?”

  With a heavy sigh, I folded. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult. I had a long night, before you were even involved.”

  He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “That have anything to do with the busted door?”

  I nodded. “I run the florist shop on the other side of town. Last night I had an incident. The door was bu
sted and after dealing with all that, I went out to the store, then got tackled by this overzealous rent-a-cop on my way back home.” I flashed him a saccharine smile.

  “Rent-a-cop?” he scoffed. “Come on. You can do better than that. You seem like a clever woman.”

  I laughed and dropped my head back against the seat rest. I didn’t want to like him, but between his charming smile and gentle ribbing, it was hard to keep a grip on my disgruntlement.

  I dropped my hands into my lap and worked my fingers together. Lucas shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. I gave him the directions, and minutes later, we were parked in front of the small strip of shops on Hydrangea Lane.

  Lucas hopped out of the cab and retrieved the boards from the back while I unlocked what was left of the front door and pushed it open. Lucas followed and set the boards down beside the counter and I set aside the bag of other supplies Hank had provided. He left the shop and, just when it occurred to me that he left without saying a word, he reappeared, a toolbox in his right hand. Before I could stop him, he unpacked his collection of tools on the counter, found his tape measure, and went to work.

  I stood behind him and crossed my arms. “What are you doing?”

  He tore off the cardboard barrier I’d put up the night before. “What does it look like?”

  I huffed. “I can handle it, all right?”

  “I know.”

  “I—”

  “Ooh! My, my, Scarlet, your gentlemen friends just keep getting better and better.”

  I winced as Gwen floated into view. She was eying Lucas’ backside with interest. There was no doubt that she’d been a heartbreaker back in her day; she was young, stunning, and had an infectious zest for life. Joie de vivre. Not to mention that she held a degree in the art of flirtation.

  I could probably take a lesson or two.

  I shot her a look and mouthed stop staring!

  “Hayward’s been looking for you all morning,” she said, still ogling Lucas as he worked. He jotted down some measurements and went to work cutting the boards down to size with his hand saw, then stapled the planks until he had a door-sized sheet. I wasn’t sure how he was going to get the boards to stay in place on the metal frame, but figured he knew what he was doing.

  I couldn’t reply to Gwen and she knew it. Sometimes I think she likes to taunt me in front of other people just for kicks. It was all in good fun, but annoying nonetheless. Giving her a meaningful glance, I gestured for her to follow me back into the studio portion of the small shop.

  “You said someone broke the door,” Lucas said over his shoulder. “What for? Angry customer?”

  I tore my eyes from Gwen. “Uh, yeah, something like that.”

  He rocked back onto his boots and twisted to look up at me. “You call the cops?”

  I nodded. Technically I hadn’t had to call them. The racket the ghost had made was more than enough to warrant a neighbor calling them for me.

  “What were they so worked up about?” he asked, his expression twisted like he was trying to imagine a scenario where someone would be filled with rage over a bouquet of flowers.

  “It was just a misunderstanding.” I gestured at the door. “Is there something I can do to help move this along? I’m supposed to be open for business in half an hour.”

  It was a lame excuse. It wasn’t like I was expecting a Black Friday rush at ten o’clock in the morning on a Monday.

  He looked up at me, noting that I was avoiding his question. Instead of calling me out, he asked me to hold the plywood boards in place. He drilled a couple of holes and did some jimmy-rigging to get the two sheets to stay together and showed me how to fasten a small iron bar to lock it up at night. It wasn’t pretty, but it would do the trick until the new door arrived.

  When it was done, he dusted his hands off on the back of his jeans and glanced over at me. “Listen, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Okay?”

  He hesitated just long enough to pique my curiosity.

  “Oooh! He’s going to ask you out on a date!” Gwen squealed from her position behind the counter.

  I ignored her.

  Lucas wandered back to the counter and packed up his tools. He took a moment and curiosity started burning a hole in me. Patience wasn’t my strong suit. Finally, he glanced up at me. “Last night, when you were tailing that stray cat, did you see anything … strange?”

  “Strange how?”

  He rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck. His jaw tightened and relaxed a few times in short succession, as though he knew what to say but couldn’t quite get it out. “This might sound completely insane, but I’ve been working for the Carters for three years now, ever since the show started its first season. I don’t know if you’ve seen the show, but their specialty is finding old homes. They especially like homes that have some kind of past. The more history the better in their minds. Makes for great TV and the show employs a historian who does a voice-over segment on each home’s past.”

  I nodded slowly, unsure what he was building up to. “I’ve seen an episode here and there.”

  He sighed and dropped his hand. “Most of these homes have seen multiple generations and some of the pictures they paint aren’t exactly pretty. Stu especially likes homes where a murder has occurred. People go bananas for that stuff and it sends the ratings through the roof.”

  I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. The direction of the conversation was suddenly clear and there was no easy way out.

  “Now, I’m a logical kind of guy, but I’m telling you, Scarlet, I’ve seen some weird stuff. I’ve been wound too tight since production started here. There’s something about this site that has me on the edge. That’s really the only explanation I can give to you for last night.”

  “It’s fine, Lucas,” I said, softening. “I shouldn’t have gone onto the property. As for your question, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “It’s like … a presence,” he said. “Like we’re being watched.”

  “So, what, you’re thinking it’s a ghost?” I smiled, hoping he would drop the conversation at hearing the absurdity out loud. I expected him to grin, wave a hand at me, and dismiss the whole thing. Instead, to my horror, he grew even more serious.

  “I don’t know for sure.” Lucas shifted his weight and, for the first time since I’d met him, looked uncomfortable. “Do you believe in that stuff?”

  Gwen laughed. “Hot and smart. Ding, ding, ding! Scarlet, you need to get this one’s phone number.”

  I shot her quick scowl before turning my attention back to Lucas, who looked conflicted.

  “Last night, after you left, there was another incident,” he continued.

  I drew in a breath, steeling myself.

  “Some windows were broken. After the vandals the other night, I put up some security cameras out in the trees; they trigger and start shooting as soon as the flood lights go on, and they cover the whole property. That’s how I knew you were slinking around last night. I saw you on the monitor while I was eating dinner.”

  “I was not slinking.”

  Lucas’s lips turned up into a slight smile.

  “Well I didn’t see anyone,” I said. “Just the cat. I hope you catch whoever did it though. My guess? Probably a couple of bored teenagers. There isn’t a lot to do around here, as you might have noticed.”

  He shook his head, the smile vanished. “That’s the thing. I’ve scoured the tapes. Not only can I not see what triggered the flood lights, but I can’t see who was responsible for the windows, either. There’s no one there. They just … shatter.”

  I backed up half a step and pivoted away as my heart rate kicked up.

  “You know something,” he accused.

  I reached up and massaged my temples.

  “Scarlet, please, tell me what you know.”

  My eyes darted to his. “You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you.”

  Lucas frowned. “Why’s that?”

 
I raked my fingers through my hair and sighed. “Because it’s a little … crazy.”

  He folded his arms and fixed me with an unblinking stare. “Try me.”

  I drew in a slow breath. “I’ll tell you, but on one condition.”

  His face snapped toward me. “What’s the condition?”

  I cringed. “That you don’t have me committed to some kind of psych ward.”

  Lucas straightened, his expression unreadable. Calmly, he folded his arms and rocked back onto the heels of his boots. “Fair enough. Besides, that all sounds like a lot of paperwork that I don’t have time for. Go on. Spill.”

  OK, then. Here goes nothing.

  Chapter 5

  “I’m a ghost whisperer.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I could practically hear Pandora’s Box spring open, and I squeezed my eyes shut. It was all downhill from there. I might as well pick up some moving boxes and packing tape when I went back to drop off Hank’s staple gun.

  That is, if I still had use of my hands. A straight-jacket would definitely stall my progress.

  Lucas’s face drained of color as he stared at me. “I’m—I’m sorry, a ghost what?”

  “Whisperer.”

  His lips parted and then closed again.

  “I know it sounds insane, but I’m dead serious.” I cringed at my own bad pun.

  “Nice one,” Gwen chimed in, her voice flat.

  “Sorry,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Lucas asked.

  I glanced around the shop. We were alone, well, besides Gwen. The problem with conversations like this was that once you popped the cork, there was no going back. Sure, Lucas was only in town for a few weeks, but I didn’t know him well enough to know if he would keep my secret to himself.