Haunting at High Tide

by Agatha Ball

  I motioned to all the people. "Quite a crowd."

  She gave a faux self-effacing shrug and flicked her blonde ponytail. "What? This? Oh, this is what I normally do when people allow me to do what I'm good at."

  "Ghost tours...?" I commented.

  She rolled her eyes. "Taking a rundown mess and making it magic."

  I lowered my voice. "The only problem is that we don't have ghosts on this island."

  She gave a barking laugh. "Well, I seem to recall you saying there was a ghost in the hardware store."

  "The wind knocked down some paint trays."

  "And we have had PLENTY of true crimes." She held up a handful of cash. "I can practically print money."

  Suddenly, my stomach dropped into my shoes. "Wait. You're marketing what's happened here at Seaside?"

  Madison shrugged. "Lemons. Lemonade. Etc."

  I couldn't believe it. "We're trying to distance the island from all that. We're trying to reinvent."

  "Listen, it is what it is. And I can either sell spades to the gold miners or do what you're doing, which is to tell the gold miners there is no gold here. Except there is." She shoved the stack of money back into the box. But before I could say anything more, Madison swiveled to face the group. She threw her hands in the air and shouted like a drunk sorority sister, "Alright! Let's get this party started! Who wants to see some murrrrder!"

  I watched the gang make their way down the street and then turned to Johnny, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. "I can tell you, I'm about five minutes from killing someone myself."

  Chapter Five

  We walked into Trevor's saloon. A shanty about what you do to a drunken sailor played over the speakers in the empty bar. Blue lights flickered on the walls like we were under the sea.

  The only person there was Lottie, who was sitting at the bar, nursing a pint of something amber. Lottie had once dated Nate and, I think, still held a little candle for him. But she seemed to be getting along just fine with Trevor as second prize. She was laughing with him and flicked her long, curly mane of black hair in what looked suspiciously, from across the room, like she was flirting.

  I walked over. "Hey, Lottie! Hey, Trevor!"

  My ex rolled his eyes. "Ah jeez, Paige. You here to bust my balls about the ghost tours?"

  It was exactly what I was going to do, but figured I'd take a more tactful route. I sat down on a barstool and motioned for Johnny to sit next to me. "We're just coming in for a drink."

  "Hey, my man!" Johnny said, raising his hand for a high five. And when it didn't come, he high fived himself.

  Trevor tilted his head like he didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth.

  "We'll have a black coffee and a Coke..." I said, as if to prove my point. I even took out a wad of money and put it on the counter.

  He could see right through me, but he got our beverages.

  I shifted on my stool toward Lottie. "Good to see you. I thought you were done with Seaside?"

  Lottie had been here last month covering the bake off competition for the local paper, but it was later revealed she had been fired as a reporter, was freelancing, and had gotten stuck on the island broke with nowhere to go in the middle of a storm.

  She shook her head. "I have started up a travel blog of the area and was going to give some reviews of things to see and do in Seaside."

  I pointed at the door. "The ghost tour just left."

  She sprang out of her chair. "Crap! I lost track of time!" She held her hands out to Trevor like she was at a loss for what to do next. "Um..."

  He waved her away. "I'll close out your tab once you get back! Hopefully everyone from the tour will be coming in for a post-tour drink."

  Her face lit up, unable to hide the happy anticipation of getting to spend some more time with him. Oh, what a girl does for a head full of curly black hair and the charm of a homecoming king. I should know. He got me under his spell, but fortunately I had since seen the light.

  Trevor's smile faded as she walked out the door, and then came over with the drinks for Johnny and me.

  "Dude, she has got it for you bad," Johnny said, slurping a large gulp of his Coke through a straw.

  Trevor tried to brush it off, but I could see he was flattered. "Nah. She's just nice. She knows I'm with Madison."

  "Don't deny it, bro," said Johnny. "Pushing down your feelings will only give you sadness. Or gas. They sort of feel the same."

  "She does seem really into you," I added. Listen, sometimes I feel in a generous mood to spread some kindness, especially if it meant ruining his relationship with Madison. "What's a nice girl like that doing attracted to a guy like you? Lottie is cute!"

  He rolled his eyes. "If you two don't quit, I'm going to ban you from my bar."

  "This is a saloon!" Johnny replied, giving him finger guns. "And in a saloon the wild west rules win!"

  Trevor waved us away and started refilling the snack bowls with party mix.

  "It was really nice of you to let Lottie know that you were running a ghost tour," I said, trying to lead Trevor along.

  "Well, she went through some rough stuff with being laid off from work. I just want to help," Trevor replied, not able to meet my eyes.

  Oh, I knew where his head was at. There is nothing Trevor loves so much as a damsel in distress. It makes him feel important.

  "So, whose idea was this murder tour?" I asked.

  Trevor groaned, as if bracing himself for some onslaught of condemnation from me. "Here it comes!"

  "No!" I said, raising my hands in protest. "Just thinking that seeing how you are the nephew of a mass murderer, maybe it wouldn't be something you wanted to align yourself with."

  "That was my uncle, not me, and as Madison said, if you've got skeletons in the closet you might as well make them dance."

  I realized that Johnny had wandered off to enjoy Trevor's Halloween decorations. He chose that moment to make a skeleton cutout Trevor had taped to the wall shimmy in example.

  "That's great you are reclaiming your place, but seriously, Trevor..."

  Before I could continue, Johnny piped up, flipping up the skeleton's bony arm to stop me. "Naw! I think it is brilliant man. Hold onto what is yours. Don't let people make you ashamed of who you are. And you have the blood of a murderer running through your veins."

  "Okay, so I am SERIOUSLY going to ban you if you don't stop." He then turned to Johnny. "Your dad wasn't exactly a saint, either."

  "Oh yeah!" exclaimed Johnny, struck by the realization, but I don't think it was the connection Trevor was hoping for. "I should start a ghost tour, too!"

  And then suddenly a light went off in Johnny's eyes and I groaned, realizing we had created a monster.

  "No..." Trevor started to say.

  "NO! It's a really great idea!" Johnny exclaimed. "I could, like, totally run ghost tours out of the surf shack. Things are really quiet right now. We've got the ticket booth and my trailer and the cannery. Like, I could clean up! Thanks, Trevor!"

  And then I saw Trevor realize that he had just created a monster, too.

  Chapter Six

  The bell tinkled over the door to Bitter Beans and a guy dressed in black from head-to-toe carrying a heavy, black shoulder bag came wandering in. His straight hair was the flat black you get out of an off-the-shelf dye box. He was a little older than me and had the eerie paleness of a person who basks too long in the rays of a computer flicking screen rather than those who step outside when the sun is up.

  He sauntered over to the counter and barked, "Do you have WiFi?"

  "We do," I replied.

  There was a tone to his voice that made everything seem more like an accusation than a question. "And there's only the two ferries, right? One in the morning, one at night?"

  "We're in the slow season," I explained, "but on the weekends, we'll have two in the morning, two at night."

  That was one of the big wins that Nate had managed to secure with the transportation authority. We had hea
rd one of the things keeping people from visiting our island more was that if they came over at night, they were stuck until the morning. Now, that was fine and dandy if you lived here and commuted to the mainland for work, but it wasn't very helpful if you were trying to build a tourism industry.

  He rolled his eyes. "Great. So, I'm stuck here until 6:00 PM. Do I need to like, buy something to hang out here or what?"

  I took a deep breath. "You are welcome to stay for as long as you would like," I informed him, trying to keep my hostess-with-the-mostest demeanor. "But we do appreciate a purchase."

  "Greeeeat," he said resentfully, pulling some coins out of his front pocket and counting them on his palm. "I'd like just a small drip coffee. And do you do free refills?"

  I realized I was going to have to come down hard with some boundaries. "First refill is free, second refill is a dollar."

  He shook his head like I was committing highway robbery as he handed over the exact change.

  "And what are you here for?" I asked him as I rang him up and grabbed his paper cup. Hopefully, he'd decide to make this to-go.

  "Some guy named Johnny in need of some ghost hunters," he replied, casually leaning on the counter, as if to make sure I was in the presence of a celebrity. "I'm here for the interview and to maybe start up some tours."

  "Ah!" I replied, trying not to sound surprised.

  So, Johnny is a mystery. Just when you think he's a total goof, it turns out he was on top of everything and in the span of 48-hours, had put out the word to start interviews and begin hiring people.

  But speaking of the surfer, in Johnny popped, his tousled, sun-bleached locks bouncing as he loped into the room. He walked up to the counter. "My man! You came!"

  The ghost hunter was a little thrown as Johnny gave him a handshake and a fist pump half-hug.

  "I'm sorry...?" he said, not sure who this stranger assaulting him was.

  "I'm Johnny!" Johnny replied, like he was a Christmas gift he was presenting.

  "Oh! Right!" said the ghost hunter, now behaving a little more politely, but he was still a prick. "I'm Echo."

  "DUDE! Echo! Like the Grand Canyon."

  "Like the call sign," the ghost hunter primly informed him.

  "Rad," said Johnny. "So, listen, I've got all the local legends and ghost stories up here in my noggin—"

  But as Johnny tapped his temples, Echo stopped him, almost insulted. "Sorry. While that is informative, I would prefer to find the REAL ghosts myself."

  "There aren't any real ghosts," I said. "You're here to be a tourist attraction."

  He gave me a dirty glance. "I'm sorry. I don't think you are aware of what I do. I'm a professional ghost hunter, not like the amateurs who show up to do carnival tricks like SOME hunters. I'm not a charlatan." He folded his arms, as if waiting for an apology.

  "Cool!" said Johnny, totally onboard. "Ghosts are real and I don't even have to tell you anything! SCORE! Alright. Since you save me some brain power, I'm buying! Did you order?"

  "I got a coffee," he stated sourly. I think he was mad his decision to cheap out turned around and bit him.

  "Paige, hook him up with one of your cinnamon rolls. On me! You're going to love them, Echo. Then we can sit down and hash out a plan. Go save us a table!" Johnny added, motioning to the almost empty café. "That bag looks heavy."

  The promise of breakfast seemed to make Echo a little happier about life as he headed over to a spot by the window. Maybe he was just hangry. He gave Captain a little scratch behind the ears, which tended to indicate while the dude might be a social dud, he might not be a completely terrible person.

  "Did you know cats can see ghosts?" he called out to Johnny.

  "DUDE! No way!" Johnny replied. He turned back to me as he took out a wad of cash. "I gotta get me a cat."

  I leaned across the counter. "So, what's going on?"

  Johnny was so excited. "Okay. So, dude. Paige. Like, I got to thinking about this whole thing and how I could be competitive in a niche market like Seaside."

  "Have you been Googling marketing jargon again?" I asked.

  "Totally. So, I was analyzing my competition." He stopped, just to make sure I was keeping up. "Madison. She's the competition. So I started thinking, what differentiates our two companies? I mean, we both have blond hair. It's easy to get us confused."

  I let it slide. Sometimes it is important to let Johnny keep speaking when he's on a roll.

  "And we both have this great plan that good for the season. Both know how to talk to people."

  "I think you may have a leg up on that."

  "Thank you," he said with an acknowledging nod. "But it wasn't enough. So then I thought, I gotta go with expertise. So, I brought the dude!" He motioned to Echo, who was unloading his bag.

  "So... what does this 'dude' bring to the table?" I asked.

  "You mean other than what he's putting on the table?"

  I looked over. He had pulled out a black box with a big antenna. Echo pressed a button and a bunch of green lights lit up. It seemed like he was checking in with Captain to see where the cat was staring, and then pointed the box in that direction.

  "He has this ghost hunting machine," said Johnny, conspiringly. "He doesn't just tell the ghost stories, he can show you on his radio computer thingies when you walked through a ghost or something. I mean... can you even wrap your brain around it?" He made an explosion sound and staggered back, showing me how much everyone's mind was going to be blown.

  But the only thing about to be blown was Johnny's great plan because suddenly the bell tinkled again.

  "Aw, crap," said Johnny. "The competition."

  Madison tottered in, staring at Echo like she had no idea why we were letting riffraff like that onto our shores. All the green lights turned red on Echo's box. Made me wonder if it was more in tune with detecting evil.

  She came up to the counter. "Um... excuse me. Who is he? And why is he here instead of Trevor's saloon? Are you stealing our customers?"

  Madison has a way of pushing my buttons, but before I could launch into how everyone was welcome at Bitter Beans and Echo was free to park himself and mooch off whatever complimentary offerings I was thinking about providing, Johnny decided to go stick his flip-flop encased foot in his own mouth.

  "He's my ghost hunter!" he exclaimed.

  Madison's eyes narrowed. "Um... excuse me?"

  Johnny leaned his elbows against the counter. "Yeah. I thought you had a really great idea with the ghost tours. Congrats! And Trevor pointed out that he and me have a lot in common and that it might be something I should think about. So, I thought. And decided we needed more ghost hunters and I could do some tours, too! Thanks for being such an inspiration, Madison."

  "EXCUSE ME?? You STOLE my idea?" Madison shrieked, her voice escalating with each word.

  "Dude! Dude! Calm down!" said Johnny, mystified by her reaction. "There's room enough on this island for two tours. Competition makes for a better consumer experience. Monopolies are illegal and, I dunno about you, I don't want The Man coming and hauling you away for owning the market share." He lowered his voice. "Don't start up a ghost cartel."

  "I... I..." Madison was so mad, she couldn't even speak. She clenched her fists at her side and spat. "Well, you want a little competition? I'll SHOW you some competition, Johnny." She pointed a finger at Echo, who was staring at her like she had grown two heads. "You and your little friend are going DOWN. DOWN I SAY!"

  And then she spun on her high heels and stormed out of Bitter Beans.

  Echo looked down at his box before turning to Johnny and me. All the lights were gone. "I don't know what to say, but that woman's energy is enough to scare away the dead."

  Chapter Seven

  "He WHAT?" Nate exclaimed.

  We were walking down the Main Street, hand-in-hand, stealing a moment to enjoy the fall. The leaves on the trees had all turned bright red and orange and the rolling hills of the island had changed from green to gold. The storefronts w
ere now completely transformed for Halloween with plenty of spiderwebs and jack-o'-lanterns. Someone had even tied a scarecrow to a signpost with one arm pointing to the ferry and the other toward the fairgrounds.

  Other than some texts, Nate and I hadn't had a chance to connect in a couple days. Nate was running around, helping all he could with the island Halloween party, and I had been so busy with Bitter Beans. Granny was so preoccupied with mortgages and wedding plans, I had been trying to help her by picking up longer shifts. Not that I minded. I mean, when she and Richard finally opened their museum, Bitter Beans was pretty much just going to be me. This was a harbinger of things to come, but I was glad to report I still enjoyed it.

  However, it meant that Nate and I had a lot to catch up on, which meant I just now was updating him on all that was going down with Madison and Johnny.

  "So, yeah, Johnny is now offering competitive ghost tours," I concluded.

  "Johnny?" Nate groaned, shaking his head with bemusement. "My own cousin..."

  "It's kind of in his wheelhouse," I reminded him. "He did all those treasure hunt tours dressed as a pirate."

  "Tell me he's not dressing up as a ghost..." Nate said.

  "Don't mention it, because he just might do it."

  "My lips are sealed." Nate became reflective. "With all the holes in his ratty old sheets, he wouldn't even have to cut new ones for the costume, though."

  The image of Johnny standing in front of his surf shack wearing the dinosaur bedding he still had from when he was a kid made me laugh. "Okay, so that might actually be genius."

  But this is when we passed by Trevor's saloon, just in time to see a guy coming out with a bag and tight black t-shirt emblazoned with a logo that read "Terror of Tango." His blonde hair was done in a buzz cut and he was built like a warrior wannabe who pumps iron at the gym to shoot paintballs in the woods on weekends.

  "Tell me they are not starting up haunted Latin ballroom dancing ..." Nate murmured.

  And probably the scariest part of it all is that I couldn't immediately negate the notion.