Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Whispers in the Sand
A Barefoot Bay Kindle World Novella
Gail Chianese
Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
Books by Gail Chianese
Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of Whispers in the Sand. This book is entirely the work of author Gail Chianese, a talented writer I handpicked to write in the world of Barefoot Bay.
I first met Gail a few years ago at a writer’s conference and am delighted she’s bringing her lovely voice to Barefoot Bay. And what an adorable story she’s written! A ghost hunter who doesn’t believe in ghosts, but might very well believe in love with the one that got away. This one will give you chills…the romantic kind!
Roxanne St. Claire
PS. If you’d like to read all of the Barefoot Bay Kindle World novels, or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, stop by www.roxannestclaire.com for details!
Dedication
This one is for my baby girl, Devin.
Acknowledgements
Dear Readers,
When Rocki contacted me and asked me to contribute to her wonderful world of Barefoot Bay, I couldn’t have been more thrilled or terrified. I’ve been a huge fan of Roxanne St. Claire’s for years. What if I let her down? What if I let you down? But despite the fears, I knew I’d be a fool to pass up on this wonderful opportunity and the chance to write this story. Call me a bit of a rebel, but I’ve bent the rules a little here. I’ve written a contemporary romance with a dash of the paranormal thrown in. Thank you for forgiving me my transgression and extending a little trust in Rocki’s faith in me and giving Whispers in the Sand a try.
I also have to give a shout out to my amazing daughter, Devin who helped plot this book. She’s one smart cookie and came up with some key points. Also, a shout of thanks to Jessica Andersen for so many things, but mostly for her encouragement and listening to me when I needed it most. And to Jane Haertel, editor extraordinaire, who made this story so much better than when I started out. Please know that any errors are my fault and not hers.
Chapter One
She doesn’t believe.
“Don’t you worry, love. I’ve got a plan.”
Shay O’Malley stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the living room. That was strange. She’d swear she’d heard a second voice, a male voice.
“Did you say something, Grammy?”
“Talking with O’Malley, dear. He’s quite proud of you. Your first week on Mimosa Key and already you’ve landed a job.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Come sit and tell me about your first day.”
“Hang on.” Shay grabbed the two glasses of sweet tea from the counter and walked back into the living room. She looked to the seat next to her grandmother and then opted for the chair instead, hoping she’d chosen wisely. Not that she believed they had company, especially that of her dearly departed grandfather who had been gone for twenty-five years.
“Tell Grandad thanks.”
“He can hear you just fine.”
“Well, I can’t hear him.” Except for that once. But no, that was just a dream.
“You could if you tried.” Her grandmother sipped from her tea, head cocked and attention elsewhere for a few moments. “Hmmph. Fine, I’ll drop the subject for now, but mark my words: gifts naturally given don’t like to be ignored forever.”
Shay reached out a hand and squeezed her grandmother’s. “Gram, I’d love nothing more than to be able to talk to Grandad daily like you do. Now, let’s talk about how much I love this place and my new job and how I’m so thankful you invited me to move down here with you.”
Living here she could keep an eye on Grammy while still allowing the too independent, nearly eighty-year-old woman to enjoy life. It gave her parents the freedom and peace of mind to focus on their upcoming retirements and to follow their dream of traveling around the country in their RV.
“Tell me about the resort you’re going to work at. I’ve not been out there, but everyone says it’s something else.” Her gram’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’ve also heard it attracts a lot of hot, handsome men.”
“Grammy! I’m shocked at you. What would O’Malley say?” Shay laughed.
Her grandmother swatted at her knees and cackled with laughter. “O’Malley has nothing to worry about and he knows it. I’m thinking of you, my dear. You’re too young to be spending all your time with an old lady.”
“I’ve been hired to run the Casa Blanca Kids Club, Grammy. Any men I meet will most likely be married with children. Besides, I like the company I keep.”
“You need friends your own age, to get out and have fun, not sit around here babysitting me.”
Knowing where the conversation was headed, Shay looked out the window and focused on the unmarked black panel van and matching SUV that had pulled up. What the heck? Had Homeland Security spotted something wonky on her grandmother’s browser history? One never knew with Siobhan Doyle O’Malley. Or had she and Grammy just found themselves in the middle of a government op?
But they were on Mimosa Key, a tiny island paradise off the Gulf Coast of Florida. Shay couldn’t imagine drug running or other crime or anything bad ever happening here.
She got up and pulled back the curtains.
“Grammy, are you expecting company?” She dropped the edge of the sheers to look over her shoulder. Her grandmother’s mouth scrunched up, and she gave a nod, but she wasn’t looking at Shay.
“Gram,” Shay prodded.
“Oh dear.” Her grandmother’s hands flew to her hair and she glanced down at the turquoise jogging clothes she still had on from her morning walk.
“What?”
“I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow. You’ll have to greet them while I fix my hair and put on my lips,” she called cheerfully with a wave as she hustled down the hall to her bedroom.
“Greet who?”
“The ghost hunters, dear.”
“Just shoot me now,” Shay whispered. “Grammy,” she called down the hall. “You promised no more and you know O’Malley never comes around
when they’re here.”
She was blaming this all on her brother Ian. If he would just pretend to believe in Grammy’s ghost like the rest of the family, the woman wouldn’t be constantly out to prove he was real. Now Shay would have to deal with some loony bunch who either agreed with Grammy or, worse, were looking for a “donation” to exorcise the evil that resided in the house.
“I know, I know, but this group is different. And O’Malley’s promised to cooperate this time.”
“That’s what he always says.” Or rather, what you tell us, because no one else can see or hear him.
They’d been through this countless times before her grandmother and parents had moved from Connecticut to Florida for the warmer climate. Group after group. Some legit, but a lot of them no more than clueless wannabes fumbling around in the dark, terrified of their own shadows. A few, looking for an easy mark. And all brought in by her grandmother to prove that the love of her life was still with her.
Sure, they’d gotten a few K2 hits showing elevated electromagnetic readings, lots of orbs on camera—more likely a sign that they needed to keep the house cleaner—and a few whacked-out claims of demonic attachment.
Whatever. She’d dealt with their kind before and if this group thought they’d con one penny from her family she’d send them packing faster than you could say, “boo.”
“Shay.” Grammy poked her head out into the hall. “Be nice, dear.”
“I’m always nice.” Well, mostly. A cool breeze from nowhere blew a rogue strand of hair across her face. “Okay, fine. Sometimes, but I’m only not nice when people deserve it,” she admitted under her breath.
Taking another peek out the front window, Shay saw three guys, each holding a case and two of them handling a giant plastic tote between them. They were in deep discussion. After a few moments she left the window and headed to her grandmother’s bedroom on the main floor.
“Grammy, you know you don’t have to do this. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone and you sure don’t need that group of strangers to help you communicate with O’Malley’s spirit.”
Maybe if she could get her to see reason, Shay could send the group packing before they even crossed the threshold.
But it was too late. One of them knocked on the door. Shay stood, dreading the next few hours. If her Gram didn’t have such a trusting heart, if she weren’t so vulnerable to their lies, Shay would leave. She’d use the excuse that she needed to move her meager belongings to her new bungalow provided by the resort. But she couldn’t trust them alone with Grammy. She’d seen first-hand how some of these groups operated.
Open the door.
Shay looked around. There was that voice again. A man, but it was just her and Grammy inside. Clearly she was tired. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
Not anymore.
A second knock on the door had her feet moving forward.
Still… “Save the theatrics for the team, O’Malley,” she muttered.
Shay opened the door to find the three guys and a camera in her face. They weren’t wasting any time, but cameras rolling before they even said hello? Were they hoping O’Malley would appear to let them in?
Slowly the camera lowered.
“Shay?”
That face.
That voice.
Everything inside of her lit up like the night sky on the Fourth of July, until she remembered why she hadn’t seen him or heard from him in years and why they were standing on her grandmother’s front step.
“Oh hell no.”
Shay slammed the door shut and put her back against the cool wood.
Chapter Two
“Grammy, we need to talk,” she called. “Now.”
Her grandmother walked down the hall, dressed in white slacks and a lemon-colored shirt, looking nothing like a lady who carried on conversations with a dead man on a regular basis.
“Shay, what’s wrong? Where are the ghost hunters?” A knock on the door answered her second question. “Oh for Pete’s sake. We’re not having this discussion again. Now, if you can’t mind your manners, you don’t have to stay.”
Her grandmother gave her the look, the same one Shay saw in the mirror when she was determined to do what she wanted. She could try to explain her actions, but right now wasn’t the time. Grammy wasn’t in the mood to hear excuses or logic. Shay nodded and walked to the far end of the living room.
Colin Mackay.
Of all the ghost investigation teams out there how had Grammy found him? It’d been five, no six years since she’d last laid eyes on him. Had he sought her out? No, based on his surprise, he hadn’t planned it. He’d never been a good liar, hated it in fact, so she trusted her gut. If he thought she was behind this whole thing, she was pretty sure her reaction made it crystal clear that he was dead wrong.
They were all in the house now, completing the introductions: Don—the blond with the beard. Dave—another blond without a beard, but clearly a sibling. PJ—a silver-haired gent, and of course him.
Did he have to look so good? He’d cut his silky, shoulder-length brown hair, and his once smooth baby face now sported a day’s worth of stubble, but otherwise he looked the same.
“Welcome.” Her grandmother gestured to them to sit. “You’ve all met my granddaughter, Shay, at the door. She’ll be—”
“Staying,” Shay filled in. If she had thought for even a moment that she could leave, that idea had been squashed with Colin’s arrival.
Don, apparently the leader, nodded and turned his focus back to her grandmother. Before he did anything else he outlined the team’s goals: to bring peace of mind to Mrs. O’Malley and to make sure she felt comfortable and safe in her home. Grammy got a good chuckle out of that and assured him she was as safe as a chicken in a house full of vegans.
“Good. I know you said during our initial call that you wanted to prove that you had a ghost living with you. We’ll do everything we can to help. We’ll come back and do multiple investigations, but you have to understand that we can’t force a spirit to interact with us. We also won’t fake evidence, even if doing so brings us to our goals.”
“Or gives you your fifteen minutes of fame?” Shay whispered the question, not thinking anyone would hear or answer.
“Not even then,” PJ replied. “I don’t want to be famous. We just want to help and to find answers.”
Her grandmother frowned at her. Dave raised his brow and looked at Colin, who shook his head, cheeks reddening. At least he wasn’t going to sit there in her grandmother’s house and deny the past.
“Shay, can you give me a tour of the house while the guys talk with your grandmother? This way I can see where to set up our equipment.” Colin stood and dared her with his eyes to deny his request.
Forgive. The word, barely a whisper, had her looking to the others to see if they’d noticed. Her gram’s frown deepened and she looked from Shay to Colin and back.
Great. Now Grammy not only hears spirits, but can also read minds, because that had to be my subconscious talking to me.
Shay swallowed and smiled. “Sure, let’s start upstairs.”
She waited to speak until the two of them were standing in the tiny bedroom at the far end of the house that had been her room for the past week. It was barely big enough to hold the dresser and twin bed and still allow for a person to get dressed without banging her knees on the bedposts. With Colin in the tight space, Shay felt trapped.
“What are you doing here—”
He kissed her, long and hard until she was panting for air when he released her mouth.
“What?! Wha…” She couldn’t even find the words. She was spitting mad and it took everything she had not to slap Colin.
“That always was the best way to get you to be quiet.”
“Do it again and you’re going to be singing soprano.”
He held up his hands in the form of a T and she stepped back, waiting.
“To answer your question, I’m here with the team at your grandmot
her’s request. And before you ask, no, I didn’t connect the names. I just got the call from Don this afternoon with the bare basics.”
She dropped onto her bed.
“But why are you here? You don’t even believe in the paranormal.”
“Neither do you.” He sat next to her, the heat from his body scorching every inch of hers that he came into contact with. “Maybe this is a good thing. I can’t remember how many times you worried about your grandma and her imaginary friend. Maybe my team can help put his spirit to rest, if he’s here, and she can finally let go of his memory.”
She hated to admit he was right. She had worried, still did, about her grandmother’s mental health and her inability to move on from her husband’s death. Shay could only hope someday to find a love like theirs. But this was Colin and she didn’t fully trust him.
“I won’t let you make a mockery of her.” Shay shifted to face him and for a moment felt something like a zing when she looked into his whiskey-brown eyes.
“We won’t. I won’t. Whatever we find or don’t find here, it stays private unless your grandmother says otherwise,” he assured her.
“No.” She shot up off the bed. “No matter what, it stays private. She’s got a clean slate here. No one knows her history. No one looks at her funny or calls her the ghost lady. The evidence has to stay private.”
“You mean you have a clean slate here, don’t you, Shay?”
Oh damn him for knowing too much. Why had she shared so many of her hopes, dreams and fears with him when they’d been together? Why couldn’t he stay where she’d left him? As a distant memory in her past.
“We both do, Colin. I’ve got a great job over at Casa Blanca Resort heading up the children’s program, and I don’t think they’d want some crazy woman who believes in ghosts taking care of the kids.”
Barefoot Bay: Whispers in the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 1