Ghouls Gone Wild (36 page)

Gilley calmed down as well, and I finally got him to go to sleep without a fire extinguisher for a binkie. And while Heath and I cleared the tree, castle, and woods of the spooks, Gil continued to play with Fergus’s gadget, telling me it might come in handy one of these days.

Gopher was all for that.

Katherine also took an interest in our work, and came out with us on the ghost hunts, revealing that Cameron had never changed his will after they split up and he’d left her a sizable sum. She planned to buy Joseph’s place, rent out the main house, then work on renovating the castle. She liked Fergus’s idea of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast—sans ghosties.

The day before we were set to leave Scotland for good, a message arrived for me at the front desk that there was a package awaiting my signature. I passed Heath in the hallway on my way down to see what it was. “Where’re you headed?” he asked, bumping me with his elbow. He and I had been making goo-goo eyes at each other for days now, but we’d always stopped just short of doing anything other than hold hands.

“Down to the lobby. Someone sent me a package.”

“A package?” he said with a smile. “I wonder who could have sent you something.”

He said it so coyly that I thought he might be up to something. “Want to come with me to see what it is?” I asked flirtatiously.

“Sure,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, right,” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing. Come on, let’s see who sent me a sweet nothing.”

We made our way down to the first floor and over to the front desk, and I continued to smile and poke him in the ribs while we waited behind some other folks checking in. “Come on,” I prodded. “What’d you get me?”

Heath laughed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly into him. I was surprised by his sudden boldness, but I didn’t fight him off. “I didn’t,” he said, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

I giggled. “Sure, sure.”

“Can I help you?” the desk clerk asked.

I held Heath’s hand, tugging him with me to the front desk. “I was told I had to sign for a package?”

“And you are?”

“M. J. Holliday.”

“Ah yes,” said the clerk, disappearing into a little room and coming back a moment later with a huge bouquet of flowers. “These just arrived for you.”

I squealed with delight and poked Heath again. “Ohmigod! Heath, they’re gorgeous!”

His eyes were huge and I had to hand it to him, because now he looked convincingly surprised. “I didn’t,” he said.

“Yeah, right,” I said, snatching the card and ripping open the envelope. With great happiness I read aloud, “Turn around.” That made me blink. “What does that mean?” I asked him. But Heath was only staring at me blankly. “Heath? What does ‘turn around’ mean?”

“It means turn around,” said a deep baritone that froze me in place and sent a shock wave right down to my toes.

Slowly I swiveled in place to face the gorgeous brown eyes of my current boyfriend. “Steven!” I squeaked.

“Surprise,” he said levelly.

Oh boy
.

“Um . . . ,” I said, trying to think of something to say. “What are you doing here?”

“Gilley sent me an e-mail and said you’d been in a fire. So I got on a plane and came here to make sure you were all right.”

I attempted a smile in the awkward silence that followed. “Maybe we should talk?”

“Maybe we should,” he agreed. “Are you free now? Or do you two have plans?”

Oh boy times ten
.

“I’ve got time,” I said quickly. “Tons. Let’s go someplace and talk.” I took Steven by the hand, trying to lead him away from Heath, who did not seem at all pleased that Steven had shown up out of the blue.

We’d only gone a few paces when Steven called over his shoulder to Heath. “Are you coming?” he asked.

“Me?”

Steven nodded. “I believe your name will likely come up, so it’s only fair for you to be included.”

Oh boy times infinity
.

I had a feeling this was going to be a very long night. And the truth is, that wasn’t even the half of it.

But that’s another story. . . .

For the record, I am not a morning person. Especially not the morning we were about to depart Scotland, because, technically, I believe it was so early it still qualified as the middle of the night. However, the hour did nothing to dampen my producer’s enthusiasm for our next shooting location for our new cable-TV ghost-hunting show. “I know you guys don’t want to hear too much about the history of the place we’re investigating next,” Gopher was saying as the entire cast and crew were seated around a table at a small café in the airport. “But in this case, I really think it’s necessary.”

I felt something heavy hit my shoulder, and when I turned, I saw my business partner and best friend’s head, resting near my collarbone.

Gilley Gillespie and I have known each other since the first grade. After high school, I followed Gil to Boston, where he attended MIT and I did readings for clients, connecting them with their dearly departed.

From there, Gilley and I became partners in a rather unprofitable ghostbusting business. Last year, in search of other funding, Gilley had signed us up to participate in a cable-TV show that investigated haunted possessions, and that was where we’d met another medium, Heath Whitefeather, and of course our producer, Peter Gophner, or Gopher for short.

Gopher had shown the film from that original haunted-possessions show to some bigwigs at Bravo, and they’d signed me, Gilley, and Heath up for thirteen episodes of a production called
Ghoul Getters
.

Since filming began, we’d solved a big mystery or two, and had our lives endangered on a regular basis. All in a day’s work when you’re a ghostbuster, I suppose. And did I mention that the schedule Bravo had us on was exhausting? Hence, why we were at the airport so early, ready to depart to our next shooting location, and why Gilley was now unconscious with his big heavy head resting on my shoulder.

“Gil,” I whispered, nudging him with my elbow.

“ZZZZZZZZZ . . . ,”
he snored.

Heath laughed quietly. “He’s out cold.”

“ZZZZZZZ . . . ,”
Gilley agreed.

I sighed, yawned, and tried to focus on the map Gopher was laying out on the table. “As you know from your tickets, we’re heading to Belfast, Ireland. From there we’ll travel by car to Portrush and check in to our hotel. Once we get some rest, we’ll head here.”

Blearily I followed Gopher’s finger, which had zipped over the map to rest on a small
X
that seemed to be in the middle of the channel that ran between Scotland and Ireland. I vaguely remembered approving some ruins along the Irish coastline back when we were still planning this excursion to Europe, but my brain was so foggy that the details were lost.

“Are we going scuba diving?” I asked.

Gopher smiled and for the first time he seemed to detect the rather cranky mood of those of us still awake at the table. “Ha,” he said, flashing a toothy grin. “No. This is actually a very small island just off the Giant’s Causeway.”

“The whose what?” Heath asked.

“The Giant’s Causeway,” Gopher repeated. “It’s a narrow strip of water that cuts into the coastline of Northern Ireland.”

“ ’Kay,” I said. “I’m following you.”

“Anyway, right here is Dunlow Castle. And that’s the spot for our next investigation.”

Gopher looked around at us with an expression that suggested he was really excited and we should be too.

The only one who said anything was Gilley.
“ZZZZZZZZ . . .”

“Gil thinks that’s great,” I said, hiding a smile. Next to me Heath ducked his chin and snorted.

Gopher glared at us. “
Any
way,” he continued, “Dunlow Castle comes with a pretty rich history and is said to be very haunted.”

“Hopefully not quite as haunted as Queen’s Close,” I muttered, referring to the rather dicey bust we’d just come off.

Gopher ignored me and laid out a set of blueprints on the table. “Legend has it that in the late fifteen hundreds a ship from the Spanish Armada came close enough to Dunlow to become a prime target for Ranald Dunnyveg—the lord of the castle. He sent a flotilla of ships against the Spaniards, sank the vessel, and traded the crew back to Spain for a tidy ransom.”

I yawned again. So far, I wasn’t that impressed, but I knew that Gopher wouldn’t be this excited about something unless he was working a specific angle, so I waited him out.

After taking a sip of coffee, he continued. “So, from that conquest, a legend grew. It seems that many believe the Spanish vessel was carrying more than just soldiers. It was carrying gold bullion.”

I sighed. This was getting complicated and I was getting hungry. “Anyone want a muffin?” I asked, ready to gently transfer Gilley’s head onto Heath’s shoulder.

“Hold on, M. J.!” Gopher snapped. “I haven’t gotten to the best part yet.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, hoping he’d get there really,
really
soon.

“Legend has it that Ranald kept the bullion a secret so that he wouldn’t have to pay taxes on it, and he snuck it off the Spanish Armada and hid it somewhere in his castle.” Again, Gopher looked around at us to get our reactions, but we all just stared blankly back at him. “Don’t you get it?” he asked us.

“Clearly we don’t,” said Kim, one of our assistant producers.

Gopher tugged on the brim of his ball cap and said, “The ghost of Ranald is one of the spooks said to haunt the castle! If M. J. and Heath can find him and talk to him, maybe he’ll tell you guys where he’s hidden the bullion!”

That got my attention. “Hold on,” I said, putting up my hand in a stopping motion. “You mean to tell me this bust isn’t about documenting spooks as much as it’s about sending us on some sort of ghost treasure hunt?”

Gopher beamed at me. “Yes!”

“ZZZZZZ . . . ,”
said Gilley.

I eyed Heath over Gilley’s head and saw that he was looking at me to gauge my reaction. Something unspoken passed between us, and he and I both smiled at each other. I then turned back to Gopher and asked, “If we find the bullion, can we keep it?”

“Yes,” Gopher said, a twinkle in his eye.

“We’re in,” Heath and I said together.

Gopher let out the breath he’d been holding. “Really? You guys think this is a good idea?”

“Dude, if we find a lost treasure of gold bullion, then it’s a genius idea!” I said.

Heath was equally enthused. “This could open up a whole new industry for us. Instead of ghostbusters we could be ghost treasure hunters!”

“We could retire early,” I agreed.

“There’s just one catch,” Gopher said softly.

I snapped my head back in his direction. “What’d you say?”

Gopher smiled nervously. “It shouldn’t be any big deal,” he assured us.

“A time to worry,” Heath said.

“What’s this catch?” I demanded.

Gopher sighed. “The castle’s supposed to also be haunted by a particularly nasty phantom.”

My brow furrowed. “A phantom?”

Gopher nodded. “Some supernatural being is supposed to lurk around the ruins in search of trespassers. He’s so scary that none of the locals will go near the place.”

“What’s he done to make everyone so scared?” I asked.

Gopher swallowed and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“ZZZZZZ . . . ,”
said Gilley.

“Come on, Gopher, out with it,” Heath insisted.

Gopher took a big breath. “Supposedly, he’s responsible for throwing a few people off the side of the cliffs.”

“What?”
Heath and I said in unison again.

“But he hasn’t attacked anyone in a few years now,” Gopher added quickly. “The last victims were thrown over the side well over six years ago.”

“Who were they?” Kim wanted to know.

Gopher smoothed a hand over the papers on the tabletop. “A group of paranormal treasure hunters. They lost three crew members.”

“WHAT?!”
Heath and I exclaimed again. It was freaky how many times we said the same thing at the same time.

Gilley woke up at this point, probably from all the yelling. “What’d I miss?” he asked.

“Gopher’s trying to kill us,” I snapped.

Gilley rubbed his eyes and looked around blearily. “So, nothing new, huh?”

“Seriously, guys,” Gopher said calmly. “This thing is nothing you can’t handle! I mean, you two are the best at busting the worst demons and spooks the underworld has to throw at you. I’ve seen that firsthand!”

I eyed our producer skeptically. “Someone’s got gold bullion on the brain.”

“Want to pull out?” Heath asked me.

I sighed, thinking about the pros and cons for a minute. Finally I looked at him and said, “I’m in if you’re in.”

Heath’s smile returned. “Then we’re both willing to go for it.”

“Awesome!” Gopher exclaimed. “Guys, that is awesome!”

At that moment the call to board our plane was announced, and we all got up and shuffled toward the gate. And while I tried to appear enthused as we moved to the plane, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if by agreeing to this bust, I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.