Ghast Me Gently (Wicked Good Witches Book 4) (5 page)

“Okay,” she agreed.

Suicide Light was a shorter more rotund lighthouse, which sat just twenty feet away from the edge of a cliff, with a steep drop off directly into the ocean far below.

It was probably the least visited lighthouse on the Isle, and there was no gift shop or guided tours. The lighthouse was still in use, but there was no keeper on site. This one was run electronically, its light, keeping fisherman and their boats from being pulverized by the sheer rocky wall it sat atop of.

Most visitors came in the evening or at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of the infamous ghost girl.

Eva turned the knob to the lighthouse door and found it was still locked. “How are we going to get in?”

Charlie glanced around. There were a couple of tourists hanging around, peering out over the cliff. He gazed down at the doorknob and aimed the palm of his hand at it, speaking something under his breath. They heard a click and Eva smiled, trying the door again.

“You’re very handy.”

He puffed out his chest and took in an
I’m-completely-full-of-myself
breath. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my hands.” His voice held sarcasm, and he made dramatic googly eyes at her, while stepping past and going through the door.

“I can’t decide if that was pathetic, or funny,” she mumbled, following him inside.

“I am a man of mystery… okay, never mind, no idea where I’m going with this now. Humor, not my thing.” He let the door slam behind them, thrusting them into complete darkness.

“Well,
Mr. Good With Your Hands
, can you do anything about the lighting situation in here? I can’t even see my own hands moving in front of my face.”

“Can do.” Charlie faced his palms upward. He clenched his hand into a fist and upon opening, a glowing orb jutted upward, hanging near the ceiling. He did this a few more times until they could see their surroundings.

Eva sighed at the sight of the place. Charlie understood why.

If it was this hard for them to get inside, and to see, there was no way her father could have been inside this lighthouse. This could not have been where he disappeared.

“Let’s look around, just in case,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, okay. Just in case. Cover all the bases.”

“You a baseball fan?”

“Me? Nah. Just something my dad’s always drilling into my head. Cover all the bases. Check everything. Even the smallest detail could lead to something big!”

“Gee. Sounds familiar. I can’t count how many times my dad told me stuff like that.”

“Just trying to keep us safe,” she guessed. 

Charlie chuckled. “Unfortunately, and I hate to admit it, but they are both right.”

Eva made a sound that said,
don’t remind me
.

Even with Charlie’s magical orbs lighting the room, it was still dim inside. They could make out the circular shape of the lighthouse’s walls and had to be careful not to bump into one of the steel partitions that jutted into the room. The floor was concrete and covered in a thick layer of dust.

“This place was built to withstand the most brutal weather known to this area,” explained Charlie. “Have to keep that in mind if we suddenly ever need a bunker.”

“What about over there?” asked Eva, pointing to a rusty looking spiral staircase leading upwards.

“Let’s check it out.”

Charlie went first, checking each step to make sure it was sturdy before climbing. It may have looked rusty, but the staircase did little more than squeak as they stepped upward. Charlie stopped when he realized there was a door over his head. He hoped it wasn’t too heavy, or rusted shut. Using magic to unlock a door was one thing, but a heavy, jammed door…

He pushed above his head and to his surprise, the door lifted quite easily. The more he opened the door the brighter it became.

Below him, he heard Eva gasp.

“What?”

“Something touched me,” she told him. “I-I felt something touch me.”

He let the door slam down over their heads. He looked, but saw nothing moving. “There’s nothing down there.” He assumed she was playing a trick on him.

He stepped down a rung, sharing her stair and searched the room. He saw nothing but the dim lights of his magical orbs, still floating near the ceiling.

Eva squished in alongside him, her face paler than usual.

“I know what I felt, Charlie. Something touched my back. I didn’t imagine it.”

“Sorry. I don’t see anything.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth turned up in a controlled grin.

She let out a frustrated groan and motioned for him to continue up the stairs.

A low rumble echoed inside the room, bouncing off the walls.

Eva gasped, grabbing hold of Charlie.

A bright wisp of light swirled toward them darkening as it approached, taking the form of inky black veils that billowed like smoke in front of them.

Charlie’s jaw dropped.
Son of a freakin’ bitch.

“You don’t belong here! Filthy Howard! Get out! Get out!” The dark tendrils of smoke-like veils engulfed them, sweeping through their bodies and straight up through the rusty door Charlie had let close overhead.

A coldness crept into their bones, goose bumps springing up on their arms. Charlie grabbed Eva, darting for the exit, bursting out into the sunlight. He slammed the lighthouse door shut, leaning against it as if somehow this would protect them from a ghost that could seep through walls.

Eva suddenly put her hand over her mouth, nervous laughter funneling out.

Charlie bent over, shaking his head.

“That totally just happened, didn’t it?” Eva contained the laughter, a smirk forming.

“I feel like a ten-year-old kid that just ran screaming out of a haunted house,” Charlie admitted dejectedly.

“Well,” started Eva, reaching out and patting him on the back. “I guess we can confirm that the ghost girl is indeed real.”

“Without a doubt.”

“Do you ever get used to this sort of thing?”

“You know, you’d think so… but obviously by my pathetic, school boy reaction,
no.
”

“Well good, I don’t feel like a total lame-ass then. And did I hear right? She called you Howard? So… even ghosts know you by name?”

“It comes with the job. Kind of weird though, she clearly didn’t want me around.”

“Do you think that could mean anything?”

“Regarding your father, no. Spirits can get feisty if left to fester in this plane of existence. It’s a shame she doesn’t just move on.”

“She must have a reason to stay,” figured Eva, once again disintegrating into a mass of doubt.

Charlie peered into her brilliantly hazel eyes; even etched with doubt and worry they were beautiful. “Ghost girl is a problem for another day. C’mon, let’s keep moving.”

Eva sighed as they headed toward the parking lot. “We’re no closer to finding my dad, Charlie.”

“No, but I think we can safely cross the Suicide Light off the list of suspects. Even with a ghost in action, that place was locked up tight.”

She nodded in agreement.
Where the hell are you, Dad? I really don’t need to chase ghosts across the Isle looking…
and Charlie. He was being far too nice. She didn’t have time for that, either.

They walked back to the jeep. Charlie called Michael but got his voicemail. He left a message that their first visit was a bust and they were moving on.

Charlie motioned for Eva to hand the keys over to him and she did so without argument. Once on the road again, a thought hit Charlie, something he had overlooked.

How had the ghost girl spoken to them? To his knowledge, spirits needed a vessel to speak to the living; someone like Emily Morgan… someone that could allow a spirit to take over and control their body, temporarily.

Yes, spirits could appear to the living. And with many years of practice they might even make noise or cause things around them to move. But they were not supposed to be able to speak. He would be sure to discuss it with William later.

CHAPTER FIVE

Melinda begrudgingly accepted Riley’s assistance in getting off the beach. She wanted to get away from the crowd of gawking onlookers. Once back in town, she spun around and faced him. The words came out easier than she expected.

“Thanks for your help, Riley, but I can manage just fine from here.”

“Maybe so. But I’m not sure you should be on your own right now.”

She frowned. “Well, what you think doesn’t really matter.”

He let out a growly breath. “Look, Melinda. I really don’t know what to say. I’m mostly just sorry.”

“About?”

“You being a Howard and me being a Deane. My brother was so pissed when I told him.”

“You told your brother?” She didn’t believe it.

“Yes. Why? You didn’t tell yours?”

“None of your business.”

“Well, yes I told my brother,” he confirmed. “I had to. He would have found out sooner or later and better from me than someone else.”

Melinda frowned again. She feared he was right on that point.

“He was livid though. I mean, it was the
one
thing he swore me not to do. Don’t go bothering the Howards. Let them go about their business, don’t get in their way. Let them get used to us being here and let us have a chance to introduce ourselves, let them understand we mean them no ill–will…” he went on, as if speaking to no one in particular.

When finished, he looked up at Melinda and shrugged.

“Sorry, rambling.”

She nodded
whatever
in reply. In truth, she had been listening and clinging to his every word. She heard nothing but sincerity as he spoke, but perhaps that’s just what her heart wanted to hear.

“So how is it you just so happened to be here on this very beach, at this very moment?” she interrogated haughtily.

“Um, well, do you remember how I’m sort of perceptive about things?”

“What about it?”

“It’s a bit more than that. Sometimes those perceptions I get… well, more like feelings really. Anyway, they drive me to have this need to do something, to be somewhere specific. Today they brought me to this beach. I had no idea why until I saw you, and that wave.”

“Wait wait wait.” Melinda flung her arms around her head wildly. “Are you saying that you’re prophetic, or empathic?”

“I wouldn’t say prophetic, or empathic. I’ve always called myself a
feeler
.”

“A feeler?” Melinda snorted. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Yeah, um, not my forte, coming up with names for things. My brother always makes fun too. But what else could you call it? I mean it’s not like I’m a full on empath, and the things I feel don’t really tell me anything specific, they just lead me to places where for some reason, I need to be.”

“You could have called yourself a detector, a finder, a perceiver, or probably a dozen other names I can’t think of right now, but you went with a
feeler
…”

“Okay, I got it,
feeler
sucks.”

Melinda took in a deep breath. “Riley, I’m sorry. Really, thank you for your help today but I
cannot
be seen with you. Do you have any idea what people would say? What my brothers would say?”

“I know. I get it. I had no idea that my
whatever you want to call
it
was taking me to see you. Although I should have guessed, seeing as I haven’t stopped thinking about you in days and it does
sometimes
lead me to things I want.”

“Really?” Melinda’s anger slipped away for a moment.

Riley shot her a quick smile that said,
yes
.

Her legs went jelly-like, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was just because she had run long distance and nearly drowned, or because Riley was so close.

“I… I really wish you weren’t a Howard, Melinda.” His voice was low, his gaze averted at the ground.

Melinda could not reply, her throat swelled up and no words would formulate.

How could he possibly be evil? Perhaps on the surface he wasn’t. Perhaps he didn’t believe himself to be. Perhaps he was very good at faking, being good.

She took a step back, not having realized that she had stepped closer.

“Goodbye, Riley,” she bemoaned, walking away before either her courage or her legs failed her.

“Okay. Yeah. Goodbye, Melinda. I have to go too,” he muttered, sounding annoyed. “My
feeling
is
telling me there’s somewhere else I need to be anyway.”

Melinda spun around. “Meaning you have to save someone?”

“Um, not necessarily. Sometimes it leads me to nowhere. Sometimes it’s really stupid stuff like saving someone from spilling a hot coffee on themselves.”

“But it’s still saving someone, from something?”

“I guess. But no.”

She stood, staring at him, waiting for him to explain.

“Sorry, other than my brother I’ve never told anyone about this thing I do. I just don’t really know the proper way to explain it.”

“But it’s good things? Helping people? Normally?” she reiterated.

“Sure, it’s always helping something. This one time I had this need to spend six hours sitting at a bus stop. Until finally, this bus pulled up and this old lady got off and needed help getting her bags to her apartment, and there was no one around but me.”

“Oh,” Melinda said. “But that’s still kind of sweet.”

“Extra sweet if you ask me because the lady was so happy for the help she eagerly spent another hour telling me her entire life story.”

Melinda could not help but chuckle and bit her lip to stop. She sighed, making a decision. Protecting The Demon Isle was a job for the Howards. Perhaps she should help Riley… keep an eye on him… for the Isle’s sake…

“Well, I should probably go,” said Riley, turning to leave.

“Yeah, um, I think I’ll come with you,” she spouted.

“What?”

“I know the island better. You might need my help.”

He tossed her a confused look, trying to curtail the smile he couldn’t help but flash. “Probably won’t need any help, but as you say you do know the island better than me.”

“Let’s go then,” she pressed, impatiently motioning for him to lead the way. “But just so we’re clear, this isn’t any kind of date. Or hanging out. Or even being friends, or anything like that.”

“Your wish is my command,” he remarked. Although more sheepishly than he had in the previous days.

She rolled her eyes, but followed, telling herself that she believed every word she’d just said. 

##

Michael and William finished checking out their second lighthouse, located at the far end of Bloodsucker Bay. This lighthouse had been built into the rock that made up the marshy bay, where both fresh water and salt water mixed into swirling streams that swam through the bay. They drove past the area Michael and Charlie had dived into a week prior, once again finding no clues to help in the disappearance of Anthony Jordan.

Michael’s phone rang. “Hiya Charlie,” he shouted over the hum of the jeep.

“Where you guys at?”

“Just leaving the Bloodsucker Bay Light, heading toward our rendezvous point.”

“Perfect, we’re just leaving the Breakwater Light. Didn’t find anything at our first two. Mack was actually just pulling in as we left, going to question some of the tourists. Breakwater’s crawling with people.”

“Well it is the most popular light on the Isle, seeing as it’s right near the ferry landing and all. So no luck yet?” Michael confirmed.

“Not a thing. You?”

“Ditto. Nothing.”

“Well, still one to go,” Charlie spoke heartily.

Even over the phone, Michael could tell his brother was saying this for Eva’s sake.

“Yeah, see you in a bit,” said Michael, hanging up.

“I have to say I’m rather perplexed over Mr. Jordan’s whereabouts,” admitted William.

“Yeah, I could tell in Charlie’s voice they are feeling the same.”

William stared out of the jeep, deep in thought, as Michael drove them toward the final lighthouse.