Must Love Ghosts (Banshee Creek Book 1) (14 page)

Mike glanced at the plastic bin on the floor in front of them. It was labeled "Abby — Camping, Para."

"So this is all we have?" he asked.

"Yep." She kicked the bin, smiling fondly. "Everything I need for a camping trip is right here."

"Including, I see, night vision goggles." He picked up the goggles, brows raised. "The real kind, too. Where did you get these?"

She shrugged. "Beats me. Caine's the one who sources the equipment. Maybe military surplus?"

"Probably." He picked up a small black box. "And what is this?"

"EVP recorder. That's for voice phenomena. We probably won't need it tonight because the Mothman doesn't speak, but I'm the sound person so I always carry it."

But she wasn't planning to spend a lot of time searching for voice, or any other type of phenomena. She had other plans for tonight's camping trip and most of them involved sneaking her way into Mike's purple unicorn sleeping bag.
 

"I guess it pays to be prepared," he said. "And this?" He picked up another box and examined it.

"That one records electromagnetic fluctuations. And that other one is a thermometer."

He riffled though the box with ruthless efficiency, frowning with confusion when he found a wood box with brass gears and steampunk flourishes on the sides.

"Um, that's my compass," she explained.
 

Mike looked appalled. "Compasses are tools,
life-saving
tools, not toys. Do you know how to use it?"

"Sort of." This didn't seem like the right time to admit that she'd bought the compass because it was pretty.

He shook his head pityingly and she glared at him. So what if her compass was attractive? It worked. At least, she was almost sure that it worked.

 
"We're not stupid, Mike." She couldn't quite keep the sharp edge out of her voice. "Caine has special tracker apps on all our phones and equipment. We haven't lost anyone yet."

She didn't add that Caine had the trackers built to address the group's alien abduction fears. Mike didn't need to know
that
.

Her statement elicited another mournful shake of the head. "The key word is 'yet,' isn't it? You're bringing everything you need to handle imaginary dangers and nothing you need to handle the real ones. Hell, I'm surprised you're not bringing a video camera to film the whole thing. You know, like that movie where everyone died and they only found the tapes."

Abby winced. "Caine and his guys bring the cameras," she admitted. "And don't mock
The Blair Witch Project
. It is a genre classic."

Mike laughed. "So Caine has cameras. Good to know. Does he have a first aid kit?"

"Um, maybe?" She paused, trying to remember any incidents. Caine wasn't the Red Cross type. "I think he gave me a Band-Aid once."

"Water supplies?"

"Um, we have coolers with beer and soda. And I have this." She took her water bottle out of the bin.

Mike sighed with exasperation. Apparently, he didn't appreciate the wonders of the limited edition Disney Haunted Mansion water bottle. Well that was his loss.

"You need two gallons of water per person," he said. "And a full first-aid kit. Actually, if you're going to be doing stupid shit, which I suspect you are, you should have a first-responder's bag."

She sighed. "The Fire & Rescue guys usually get us out of scrapes."

 
"And I'm sure they love doing that," Mike snorted. "It could get cold, so you need to think about staying warm. That means layered clothing and also emergency blankets."
 

Abby tried not to roll her eyes. She knew it would get cold, but her preferred method for staying warm didn't involve emergency blankets, it involved cuddling, and the less clothing, the better.

"And is that what you're wearing?"

She looked down at her jeans and X-files t-shirt. It wasn't fancy, and unfortunately wasn't sexy, but she looked fine.

 
"What's wrong with my clothes?" She'd covered up with a flannel shirt in a plaid pattern that sort of matched the green of the t-shirt logo. Really, the outfit was downright cute.

"It's denim. That's what's wrong with it."

Abby stared at Mike, confused.

"Cotton kills," Mike explained.
 

Understanding most definitely did not dawn.

"It leads to hypothermia." He expression was serious. "Which would be deadly for you guys since you're not even carrying thermo-pads."

Abby laughed. Thermo-pads? What did he think they were going to do, dive for Mothman treasure? His concern for her wellbeing was sweet. He'd seen a lot of death and destruction so his overreaction was unsurprising. But she wondered if he'd be able to deal with the Banshee Creek monster hunts, where the biggest dangers were a busted flashlight or a drained battery in one's spirit box. Given his obsession with first-aid kits and emergency blankets, she was willing to bet that the answer to that question was a resounding no.

Which meant it was time for a good distraction.

"Oh, I know a cure for hypothermia," she said, handing him a sleeping bag and leading him out of the garage. "And it doesn't require any thermo-thingies."

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

S
EVERAL
HOURS
later, Mike found himself setting up a cheap nylon tent on a grassy plain, next to a creek. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. The tent was small and old, but it was in good condition. The sky was clear, so the tent wouldn't have to do much to protect them from the elements.

It would have to do. At least it wasn't decorated with mythical creatures or alien spaceships as all of Abby's things seemed to be. But who knew, maybe there was a fairy-bedecked tent buried inside one of the boxes in Abby's garage.

He frowned and bent to double-check the tent stakes. He didn't want to think about the contents of Abby's garage.
 

"I told you it would work," Abby said behind him. She was carrying her backpack and the two sleeping bags, and she was still wearing her jeans. He still thought the denim was a deadly menace, but he was definitely intrigued by her alternative hypothermia treatment, and, he had to admit, she looked hot as hell in jeans and a plaid shirt.

Who was he kidding? He thought Abby looked hot in UFO pajamas.

Abby dropped the purple sleeping bag next to him with a wink. "That's perfect," she said, admiring the tent. "Isn't this place gorgeous?"

 
"It's very pretty," he admitted. "So, this is the infamous Banshee Creek?"

It certainly did not deserve its nefarious reputation. It looked lovely and peaceful and very, very innocent. The camping site was surrounded by leafy trees, their foliage in various shades of autumn gold, and it overlooked the creek. The sun was low in the sky, and its amber glow promised a spectacular sunset, but, other than that, it was an ordinary public campsite. A bulletin board greeted visitors with various Banshee Creek Fire & Rescue safety pamphlets, including a fire safety one with a handwritten message in bright red marker: "Yes, Caine, this means YOU." A couple of well-kept fire pits dotted the grounds and primitive sanitary facilities were discreetly tucked behind the trees. The grassy plain was now dotted with colorful tents, most of them similar to Abby's in terms of quality, although an enterprising soul was setting up a homemade cardboard structure which looked suspiciously like a hobbit house. It even had a grass roof.

 
"Yep," Abby said, admiring the view. "But the banshee isn't seen here, her rocks are farther down."

 
"So the Mothman sightings are right next to the banshee sightings?" Mike asked, amused. Just how many imaginary critters did this town have?
 

Abby laughed. "Yes, the geologic fault attracts them." She pointed to the shore. "The fault runs right along the creek."

"And all ghosts are attracted to the fault?" That's what he'd heard yesterday, but he still couldn't believe it.

"Like moths to a flame," she said firmly. "There's also the Lady of the Falls farther upriver. That legend is even older." Her eyes shown with enthusiasm. "We should go there tomorrow. It's quite a hike, but totally worth it. The waterfall is amazing."

His head was spinning and he was having a hard time keeping all the creatures straight. "Which one is The Lady of the Falls?"

"She's our local Juliet, a Powhatan princess who killed herself when her father had her lover murdered. She drags young men to their deaths at the bottom of the river."

That did not sound attractive. "And you want to go visit her?"

"Don't worry," she said with a smirk. "You're safe. She likes them young and virginal."

"Oh well, in
that
case." He ran his hand through his hair, trying to come up with a response. "Thanks for keeping me safe from homicidal royalty."

"My pleasure." She grinned. "Literally."

They laughed together, and it felt good. This trip was a good idea. He liked hanging out with Abby even more than he liked making out with her. Well, okay maybe not
more
, but he liked it.

"Don't you want to be closer to the creek?" he asked. "We're pretty far away. I could move the tent."

"No way," she said, arms raised high in alarm. "Everyone's going to crowd in front of the creek. I want to keep some distance between us and the rest of the tents." She raised a brow. "You know, for privacy
?
"

He feigned innocence. "You and the
Mothman
need privacy?"
 

She hit him with the purple unicorn sleeping bag. He grabbed a sleeping pad intending to use it to defend itself, but it was unnecessary. A loud roar interrupted Abby's attack and she dropped the sleeping bag on the grass and turned toward the road.
 

 
"Here they are," Abby exclaimed, waving at a group of motorcycles driving up the road.

Mike wasn't sure what a paranormal-themed motorcycle club was supposed to look like, but these guys were quite a sight. A bunch of black bikes followed a convoy of black SUVs. The bikes were laden with packs and one flew a large yellow flag with the purple-eye logo and the word PRoVE spelled out in large yellow letters. The leather vests were coordinated with purple shirts with a yellow all-seeing eye logo. One of girls had purple and yellow strands in her hair and purple nail polish and Mike had to admit her commitment to the team colors was admirable.

"That's very impressive," Mike said, as the guys parked their bikes and started unloading their equipment. "Who did the logo?"

"I don't know." Abby replied, frowning at the flags. "I've never seen it before. But I'm going to find out."
 

She got up and walked toward the bikes. Mike followed, even though he really wasn't interested in acquiring a garish purple shirt that looked like an eye drops advertisement. Abby, however, did not share his trepidation. She looked distinctly peeved as she waved at the girl with the purple hair.

"Hey, Cassie," she shouted. "What's with the new threads?"

Cassie waved back, grabbed a backpack and walked over, her purple braids bouncing. She squealed a hello and hugged Abby tightly.
 

"Hey, handsome," she said to Mike.

Mike greeted her cautiously, which made Cassie giggle and whisper something in Abby's ear.
 

Abby blushed and Cassie laughed and dumped her backpack on the ground. She opened the bag and Mike couldn't help but notice that her purple fingernails had yellow all-seeing eye logos painted on. His heart sank as she pulled two purple t-shirts out of the backpack.

"These are for you two," she said, handing over the t-shits. "Welcome to PRoVe, guys."
 

She dug her elbow into Mike's side. "I got you the one with the extra-wide shoulders. You know, the
studly
one."

"Uh, thanks?" he replied, trying to be polite, but not looking forward to wearing the garish uniform.

Abby unfolded the shirt, examining the logo. "I don't get it," she said, squinting at the shirt. "What the heck is PRoVE?"

"Paranormal Research of Virginia Enterprises," Cassie explained proudly. "We've gone corporate."

Abby looked unconvinced and Mike had to agree with her. The name was unwieldy and the acronym sounded, to put it mildly, a bit forced, but Cassie's eyes shone with pride and he didn't want to burst her bubble.

"It looks nice," Mike said, trying to be diplomatic. "Very professional."

"Yup," Cassie said. "That's us in a nutshell, total pros."

Abby snorted.

"I heard that." Cassie frowned at her friend. "Wait until you see our new equipment. It's sweet."

"New equipment?" Abby asked, glancing at the guys lugging boxes out of the black SUVs. "Where did you get money for new equipment?"

"Oh," Cassie waved a hand airily. "Caine found a sponsor. One of Cole's old buddies or something."

Abby grabbed her friend's arm. "Who?" she asked, clearly confused.

Mike waited for Cassie's answer, mildly intrigued. The SUVs were pretty expensive and the tents and equipment that the bikers were unloading were anything but cheap. As far as he knew, Cole's friends were all dead-broke ex-military guys who didn't have two cents to rub together.
 

"I don't know," Cassie said with a shrug. "Caine's not saying. But whoever it is, he's totally loaded."

"Really?" Abby shook her head in disbelief. "Where's Caine? He has some explaining to do."
 

" I don't see him," Mike said, looking around. He recognized a couple of the guys, but their tall, redheaded leader was nowhere to be seen.

"He's coming," Cassie said reassuringly. "He had some stuff to pick up."

Mike glanced at the pile of boxes that the bikers had unloaded. "How much more stuff does he think we need?" he asked, but a loud roar sounded in the distance and Cassie smiled.

"There he is," Cassie said. "I better go help unload. Put on the t-shirts, guys. Like Mike said, we want the group to look professional." She walked off toward the bikes, her purple braids bouncing merrily.