Chapter 7

Jack came in the back door followed by Gillian as Mina went out the front. “Who was that?”

“My ghost writing neighbor. According to Mina, there’re a couple of stories we need to read about my house in her little green book.”

Mina was beginning to grow on me as I settled down and stopped acting like one big, raw nerve. Funny thing about me, but when I get scared or nervous, I move emotionally toward center and lop off things along the edges of my life that are strange, unusual, or different. Since I’d moved, I’d been reacting like that. Talking to Mina today reminded me that I needed to be open to the new possibilities afforded by this radical change in my life. Doris had already blown my preconceptions into glittering fragments. I breathed deeply. I had everything to gain.

“Is that Ghost Stories or More Ghost Stories?” Jack walked to the table and frowned down at the two books.

“No point in using the titles. They’re meaningless. Green book and yellow book are sufficient. It’s More, the green book.”

Jack walked over to the table, picked the book up, and skimmed it. “This one looks interesting: ‘The YesYes Board.’” He looked up. “Sounds like a séance to me.”

I shrugged. “She didn’t give me titles, and I didn’t think to ask. But she did mention a story about a séance that was a disguised version of one that occurred here.”

“She’s an author. She probably wants us to read all her work.” Gillian took the book out of his hands. “Jack, I know you’re easily diverted, but don’t randomly start reading ghost stories. We need to look for the one about Doris.”

“We should read ghost stories by the fire tonight.” Jack tried to grab the book back.

Gillian swatted him with it but surrendered the book. He thumbed through the book. “Here it is. Death on Murder Beach.”

I shivered. “I’m not sure I’m up for this.”

Gillian said, “Jack, this had better be—”

Jack raised a hand. “This isn’t really a story, probably not even scary. This book is more like an anthology, and this story or article has a different tone, less story, more narrative. ‘A small section of beach near the state park in Las Lunas is known to the locals as Murder Beach. No one knows when this appellation started, but the most notorious murder to occur here was that of a beautiful young flapper in the mid-1920s. Her murder was never solved, and her father died a broken man.’”

Someone snorted, and I looked around.

“Was that a comment on my reading?”

“No, Jack. Sorry.” I looked at Gillian.

She shrugged, and I knew it had been Doris.

Jack read, “He died shortly after her death.” He looked up.

Gillian folded a bath towel. “This investigation is going to take a while at this rate.”

“Her throat was slit from ear to ear—”

“Stop!” It was my turn to whip the book out of his hands. “This is daytime reading.”

“Okay, that was creepy. Not sure I want you to read more, either. Especially by firelight.” Gillian took the book from me, closed it, and set it on top of the yellow book on the table. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Okay. Hey, Cass, I enjoyed talking to your other neighbor.”

“Really?”

“Um hum.”

“And?”

“He’s really happy that you’re in this house.”

“And?”

“And he’s really curious about what’s going on over here. He seems very ‘live and let live,’ but I don’t think he likes to be left out if there’s any fun going on.”

“And he thinks ghosts are fun?” Gillian chimed in, shivering.

“There’s something elfin about him.” Jack waved his hands in an indistinct gesture.

“Seriously, Jack?” I said. “He’s over six feet tall, shaggy blond, with over-sized feet and a love of falling off wood in the water. Just about as far from elf as you can get.”

Jack seemed reluctant to give his idea up. “Okay, but there’s something—I don’t know—twinkly about him.”

“Twinkly?” I sputtered.

Gillian just laughed. “Cass? Please. We have to tell him. I can’t take it anymore. He’s scampering around the edges of the truth.”

“Tell me what?”

“Sit down, Jack.” I gestured toward a chair. “What do you think, Gillian? A beer?”

She got one out of the fridge and twisted the top off, setting the cold one down in front of him. “Drink.”

He did as he was told. After a long pull, he set the bottle down. “Okay?”

Gillian sat down next to him and put her hand on his forearm. “I know you don’t believe in the supernatural, despite your ‘Dave’s an elf’ riff.”

His expression changed from confusion to cynicism. “If this is a practical joke because I was reading ghost stories…”

Gillian plowed ahead. “You were intrigued by Doris’ car. Did you see her sitting in the car?”

He rolled his eyes. “Hon…puh-leeze.”

“I did.”

“Sure.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Jack, I’ve seen her, too. We asked her why you couldn’t see her, and she said she didn’t want you to because she doesn’t trust men.”

“Riiiiiiiiiiight.” He drew the word out. “Okay, I’ll lay off the spooky stuff…for a while.”

“But you were intrigued by the séances! You seem to love the ghost stories.”

“Give it up. I’m not falling for it.” He stood. “Going for a walk along the beach. Want to come, Gillian?”

With a look over her shoulder at me, Gillian grabbed her jacket and followed him out the door.

“That went well,” I said to no one in particular.

“Men.” Doris materialized at the table with her chin resting on her hands. “And you wonder why I don’t trust them.”

I sat down opposite her. “Doris, you could have just appeared to him. Now he’s mad at me. Thinks I’m lying to him.”

She looked at me slyly. “Will you help me?”

“And you’ll appear to him?”

“In Technicolor.”

“Deal.”

“Thank you. I’ll be good. There are things I can do to help you. Things you don’t know about yet. I have ways of getting information.”

“I’m sure you do, but I’ll start with Google. I also need to spend some time looking for a job or I won’t be here very long to help you.”

She leaned back. “You should talk to Ricardo and Mia.”

“Why?” I thought about the two who’d come to my door. “Is he hiring?”

“When they play on the beach, they talk about their plans. He has some ideas for a company he and Mia are trying to start. He’s a little…um…unfocused. He’s looking for someone who can execute on his business plan while he handles the graphics and Mia handles the techy side.”

“Doris, the ‘techy’ side? I thought you were from the Twenties.”

“Get a grip. I’ve been dead since then, but I’ve been paying attention. At first I tried to hang on, but things went from bad to worse. The Thirties were beautiful and fragile. The Forties frightening. The Fifties boring. The Sixties rocked my world.”

I bit my tongue hard but didn’t interrupt her. This was so not what I was expecting.

“I loved the demonstrations over at the college. Ban the bomb. Civil rights. Women’s Studies Program. Lately, it’s been against the tuition hikes. I miss disco.”

“That makes sense.” As much as anything she was saying did. “I can really see a flapper getting into disco.”

“The point is that I’m not stuck in time even though my time was the best, most stylish time ever. Bix Beiderbecke. Best jazz cornet ever.” She closed her eyes and shimmied.

“I apologize. I was stereotyping you. I guess I thought I knew what a ghost was. You know. All woo woo. Stuck in the past. Moaning. Doomed to haunt the place they died.”

“That last bit is true.”

“Ah. That’s unfortunate.”

“Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’m working on ways around it. Since you moved in with the mangy beast, I’ve had a few ideas.”

“You aren’t going to hurt Thor, are you?”

“Oh, please. I love animals…mostly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means there are downsides to possessing them. Desire to eat mice. Lick between my toes. Yuck.”

“Possessing them?”

“When I’m possessing someone or something, I can go anywhere they can. At least, I think so. I’m still testing that theory.”

“You can possess us?”

“I haven’t tried a human yet, but there are a lot of stories about it, so it should be possible.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I said, scowling.

“Oh, I’m already thinking about it. If you won’t help me, I’ll have to do some poking around on my own.”

“I already said I’d help. You’re not as forthcoming, though. I’d like to know more about Ricardo and Mia.”

“He’s an art major. She’s a computer science major. He wants to make a go of the company now while he’s in school to help with his expenses and tuition. They’re piling up student loan debt. He’s tried to sell their services as a web site design company, but they’re kids and only a few places have taken them seriously. He needs someone older, someone more professional to sell the web sites and designs and handle the business end of things. The two of them will handle the back end, coding, graphics, and stuff. I’ve watched you on your laptop. You need a job; he needs a front man.”

“Front woman. Keep up.”

She grinned at me.

I couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across my face. “Thanks, Doris. I will follow up on your tip and then get to work on your little problem.”

Planning to try to catch up to Jack and Gillian to lure them back so that Doris could dazzle my brother, I pulled on my old dark green sweater and my black nylon windbreaker to offset the wind chill and started for the door. Thor beat me to it.

“Uh uh. No. No way. You’ll run away, and Jack will kill me.” A shiver shot down my spine. “Sorry. Didn’t mean that,” I said to the universe. Enough death on this beach.

I started to push the door open. Thor stuck his nose in the crack.

I sighed. “Look, Thor, you can’t go with me. Cats stay indoors. There are things out there that want to munch you. Haven’t you already had enough of the seagulls?” I looked at Thor’s menacing frame. “Then again maybe not.”

Grabbing him before he could get his teeth fully loaded, I tossed him on the couch and dashed out the door. I got twenty feet before I heard a sound like a boxer rhythmically drumming a punching bag with his gloves. I turned and saw Thor, standing on his hind legs, beat against the glass pane with his front paws.

“You’re going to break the glass,” I said. “Okay, you asked for it. I’m going to lock you in the bedroom.” I walked back and opened the door a crack, preparing to ease in and grab him. “I’m beginning to understand why Jack and Gillian got rid of you.”

Thor threw himself against the door. Startled, I relaxed my grip for a second. He bolted past me and out the door.

“No!” I yelled after him. “There’s something creepy about you, hairball.”

He chose that moment to meow-howl.

No, he couldn’t be answering me. Then again weirder things had been happening. I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked across my sandy lawn toward the rocks that kept the beach at bay. I looked down the beach to see if I could spot them.

With the tide in, the water was wild. The wide flat boulder that marked the border of my property was the best starting point to walk down the beach. I half-jumped onto it, not wanting to get too frisky since the rocks got slippery quickly, and, given the water temperature, I didn’t want to go swimming. Not when that might have been what killed Alan Howland.

The sea was gray today, the palette of colors ranging from pearl gray spray that fanned around the rocks to slate gray in the thickest part of the waves. The patchy surf swirled and then was sucked back into the sea. It was quickly becoming too dangerous to continue walking that close to the water. I found a small trail that led away from the beach and started up the steep incline, using my hands to steady myself. Perhaps it would lead to the road, and I could make my way back home. Tendrils of fog crept up the hillside. I looked up to gauge the distance I still had to go when I saw a large black cat with amber eyes watching me.

“Thor?” I called out, not sure.

The fog swirled around the cat, and it was gone. I headed in the direction I’d last seen the cat, picking my way carefully through the fog and over the uneven ground. I felt cut off from the world, almost as though I’d traveled to another dimension. Sounds were muffled, and it seemed to be growing dark even though it was still afternoon.

Then the fog cleared, and I was standing on my road above Mina’s house. Traffic sounds were back although distant, and I could see my own front door. I hurried down and discovered Thor sitting on the front porch, grooming himself. I bit my tongue before I said something that would make him scurry off again. Gently, I turned the doorknob and let us both in. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Cass!”

I jumped a mile. “Jack! Don’t do that.”

He got up from the couch. “We were worried about you.”

Defensively, I said, “I went after you. I was only gone a few minutes.”

He frowned at me. “Are you all right? Hit your head? We’ve been back an hour.”

That startled me. “You must have come in the front door when I went out the back, but I can’t have been gone an hour.” No point in arguing. Besides, I was anxious to have Doris show herself to Jack. “Doris said she’d show herself to you,” I blurted out. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t the concern that washed over his face.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He tried to take me by the arm, but I pulled away.

“I’m not feeble,” I said angrily.

“I’m going to have a glass of pinot. Want one?” Gillian caught my eye with a warning look.

“Yes.”

“Jack?”

“Grab me a Heineken.”

I watched him warily as I took my windbreaker and jacket off and hung them on the Arts and Crafts hall tree. Gillian returned from the kitchen and handed me a glass of wine, which I took gratefully before saying quietly to her, “Doris?”

“Drink first,” she whispered. “Before I forget,” she said at normal volume, “Ricardo from the beach called.” She looked down at some notes. “He works at the Comic Shack in town and also at a place called Crystalline. Busy boy. He left his cell number and said that, if he didn’t answer right away, he might be with a customer.”

I wondered how he’d gotten my phone number. I didn’t remember giving it to him, but then again this was a small town. “I’ll track him down later, but now… Doris!”

She materialized five feet in front of Jack.

“Shit!” He dropped his beer.

Gillian ran for paper towels.

“See?” I was all hands on hips.

To Doris’ credit, she didn’t disappear when Jack lunged at her, waving his hands in front of him. Encountering her slippery coldness, he jerked back and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“I think I’m offended,” Doris said and went hands on hips, too.

He jumped again when she spoke. Then he looked around wildly as if looking for the source of a projection.

“Seriously, Jack, you lunged at a ghost?” I said.

“She’s real, Jack.” Gillian finished mopping up.

“We tried to tell you,” I said. “Believe us now?”

“Where’s the projector?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. “Jack, you felt the clammy coldness, right? How could we have simulated that even if I could have afforded state-of-the-art holographic projectors?”

Doris walked over to face him with an exaggerated sway to her hips that caused the beaded fringes on her dress to swing back and forth. “Hello, handsome.” She batted her eyes at him.

“Cass, what the hell?” He backed away in the face of her advance.

“Jack, hold on. Doris, I’m really going to have trouble helping you if you scare my brother and sister-in-law away. Can you take it down a peg?”

She pouted, but she backed away, flouncing down into a chair.

“She’s so real.” Jack walked over to her and poked a finger through the top of her head.

“Hey!” Doris frowned and ran a hand over the top of her head as if smoothing her hair.

“Jack, you’re not helping. She’s a real ghost. The sooner you make peace with that, the better. She lives here. With us.”

“Actually,” Gillian said, “you live here. We’re just visiting.”

“Chicken,” I said.

“Yeah? So?” She smirked at me.

Doris stood up. “I’m still here, and I can hear you. If you’d care to notice, I haven’t hurt any of you. I’ve asked for your help. What does that tell you? Maybe you’re more powerful than I am? Hello?”

“Jack?” I asked.

“Sweet Pea?” Jack turned to Gillian.

“My original vote was for running screaming into the night. However…”

“However?” I asked.

“However, she’s growing on me.”

For the first time since she’d appeared, Jack spoke to Doris as if she actually existed. “You said you asked for help. What kind of help?”

“I’ll get you another beer,” Gillian said, heading for the fridge.

I sighed, knowing the first battle was won.

“I want to find out who killed me and why.” Doris crossed her arms.

“Talk about a cold case,” Jack said, taking the proffered beer from Gillian and taking a long pull. “Cold and clammy. Brrr.”

I stifled a laugh. “What time is it?”

Gillian checked her cell. “It’s getting on for dinner time.”

“Doris, would you be horribly offended if we went out to dinner? I think we need to talk about everything that’s happened by ourselves.”

She shrugged, trying to look as though it didn’t matter to her. “I guess I’ve waited this long.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jack finished his beer, grabbed his brown leather jacket, and headed for the door.

I got the impression he was trying hard not to run. “Thanks, Doris. I think that did the trick,” I said. “See you later.”

We left a light on for Thor—I wasn’t really sure that a cat would need a night light but hey—and went out to the car.

We drove down the road a few miles in silence and noticed a quaint old restaurant by the sea with a few parking spots available. I pulled in and turned off the car. Once inside, we only had to wait a few minutes to be seated.

I pulled off my leather gloves, unwrapped the red knit scarf from around my neck, and took the captain’s chair by the window. “Great choice, guys.” I looked up at the waitress. “Hi. Anything special?”

The waitress, whose nametag read Nita, rattled off the specials.

None really appealed to me. “I’ll just have a Greek salad and hot tea. Earl Grey. Thanks.”

Gillian ordered blackened salmon, and Jack went for the prime rib.

When Nita left, Jack leaned forward, elbows on the white, linen-draped table. “So, that was a ghost? You really didn’t rig something up?” He looked around. “Are you sure she can’t follow us?”

“Jack, seriously?” I said.

He looked down. “I guess not.”

Gillian put her hand on his forearm. “Kind of shakes up your world, doesn’t it?”

He shook his head. “You have no idea.”

Gillian and I exchanged glances. “I think we do.”

Gillian and Jack hugged and kissed. I looked out the window, but the dark only threw back a muted reflection of the old restaurant with its brass chandeliers glowing against the carved ceiling beams.

“Cognitive dissonance,” Gillian said.

“Rocked my world,” Jack said.

“Freaky,” I said.

“Your house is haunted,” he said.

“No shit.”

He laughed shakily. “Are you going to stay there?”

“I am, but are you guys? She’s growing on me. She startles me, but I don’t feel afraid of her. In fact, the whole town is growing on me. Don’t know why, but it’s true. It’s taking my mind off the divorce.”

“I’ll bet. You could call in an exorcist.”

“Ah, no. I’ve struck a bargain with Doris. We’re partners of sorts.”

Jack looked incredulous.

“Yeah. Strange, I know, but look at it practically. I’ve sunk everything I have into this place. This is my home now. I’ll figure it out.” I took a deep breath. “You two don’t have to stay.”

They looked at each other.

It was so easy to read Jack’s face, had been since we were kids. I could see the fear, the wonder, the uncertainty, and finally the stalwart support of one sibling for another.

“Don’t be silly. Of course we’re staying.” But there was a slight tremor in his voice.

I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”