Haunting at High Tide Read online

  Richard gave a slight sigh. "This will be a difficult renovation..." he cautioned.

  Granny waved away his concerns. "Oh, where's your sense of adventure? We'll have this place shipshape in no time." She pointed to the front. "We'll put a little café there and a gift shop over there. And then put up a wall and some display cases..."

  As she spun her vision, I glanced at Richard. I could see he was calculating the math on all those ideas.

  "I was just hoping we could start smaller..." Richard gently interrupted. "And perhaps grow from there. This is going to cost so much. We'll need to see how big a loan we can qualify for..."

  "Fortunately, I happen to know everyone who makes those decisions at the bank," said Granny with a wink.

  "But that still means we have to pay it back each month." I could see Richard was becoming increasingly overwhelmed by the scope of this project with each passing minute. "Do you think we will make enough profit from ticket sales to cover the cost? Plus our wedding? Plus our home?"

  But before he could continue on with his worries, Granny took his hand. "Now, Richard, one thing I've learned is that all the projects you think someday you'll get around to never happen. You have to strike while the iron is hot. Go big or go home." Seeing he still wasn't convinced, she pulled out the big guns. "Speaking of home..." She led him over to a set of wooden stairs and slowly walked all of us up to the second floor. "I wanted to show you this, too, which I think may provide some... additional cost savings." She gave him a mysterious smile as she opened the door to the large, storage room. It was bare brick and stretched the entire length of the building. A freight elevator took up the far back corner. "We could renovate this and make it our home. Together."

  I saw Richard melt just a little at that thought.

  My mind began running with all the possibilities. It had windows all along the walls, lots of natural light, and if done well, could be as fancy as a loft in some big city.

  Granny slid her arms around his neck. "I know how important this is to you, Richard. I've been running a business through good times and bad for the past forty years. Trust that I'm good at this. Trust that, together, we are going to be great at this."

  But before Richard could respond, there was a large crash in the back of the room behind one of the industrial shelves. We all rushed around the corner to see if something had broken. Fortunately, it was just a pile of paint trays that had fallen over.

  "Must've been the wind," Nate said, pointing at an old window that had swung open. He picked his way over the piles to shut it. The latch was broken and had been replaced with a bent wire hanger.

  Granny laughed. "Wind? Or our own resident ghost!" She squeezed Richard's hand and teased. "Quite a lot of people will come to see a haunted museum."

  Richard completely gave in, his mustache twitching with his smile. "Well, I for one will gladly welcome guests from this world or beyond if it makes you happy." However, then he shouted to the room. "But don't think you're getting a discounted rate on admission! We have a new home to pay for!"

  Chapter Three

  "Shoot! I forgot my posters," Nate exclaimed as we stepped out of the hardware store. He then smiled, slyly. "Guess I'll just have to walk you back to Bitter Beans to get them."

  "How very convenient..." I teased. I turned back to Granny and Richard. "We'll leave you to talk out all the grown up stuff with Ralph."

  Granny gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then wiped off the magenta smudge she left. "See you back at the shop with all the good news."

  Nate and I strolled back, waving at Johnny down by his surf shack as we passed. Inside Bitter Beans, the posters were sitting on a table next to the door. Captain lifted his eyelids to see who was breaking into the place and gave a faint meow of welcome before settling back in. I gave the orange tabby a scratch. "You're a fierce guard cat, Captain."

  Rather than head off to the Grand Hotel, Nate helped me flip on the lights and get the place open again. "So, what do you think, Paige?"

  "It's a big project," I replied, putting my apron over my head. "I hope they are up for it."

  "I hope so, too."

  "But Granny's right. You gotta take advantage of the opportunities when they present themselves." I washed my hands and flicked the water off my fingers. "So amazing they found it before anyone else!"

  Suddenly, the bell over the door tinkled. We glanced over in unison. In came the winner of my own personal Least Favorite Person prize... Madison.

  She was wearing a fuzzy, crop top sweater and black leggings. Her blonde, flat-ironed hair was pulled back in a ponytail. And somehow, she had managed to perfect the art of walking in four-inch heel tennis shoes and texting at the same time. I longed for the day when she missed a step.

  Madison invaded Seaside trying to get it converted to a cruise ship port. The historic main street would have been replaced by chain stores faster than you can say "Abandon ship." Nate was able to get the downtown recognized as an historic place with all the protections that afforded it, but even though she lost that battle, she had not given up on the war. Madison kept sticking around. And on top of that, she was dating my old boyfriend, Trevor, who ran the saloon a few doors down. I still wasn't sure if she actually liked the guy or just felt like being spiteful. She was trying to get him on the city council even though he had only lived here for a couple months, and she was just an all around snake.

  And I had no idea why she always decided to show up at Bitter Beans at this moment. Trevor was perfectly capable of providing her with a free coffee. I'm pretty sure it was just to make my life miserable.

  Not even looking up from her phone, she rudely asked, "Why are your grandmother and that old guy—"

  "His name is Richard," I reminded her.

  "—creeping around the hardware store?" She finished whatever text she was writing and popped her phone into her purse, nailing me with an unimpressed glare.

  I sighed, trying to figure out all the ways that Madison could weaponize this against us. "They need to find a home for the new historical museum."

  She wrinkled her nose. "MMmm.... Old buildings for old people to put on display a bunch of old stuff. How on brand." She glared at the posters Nate was holding, like their mere existence was offensive. She pointed a long, pink claw at them. "And what are those?"

  "Good to see you, too, Madison," Nate replied. "The island puts together a Halloween festival every year. I'm just helping to spread the word. Want to hang some up in Trevor's saloon?"

  She snatched one from him. "Ew. Who designed these?" she said as she glared at it. "You should have contacted me. I know people who are experts at graphic design and marketing, and would have made something that's not so janky."

  "Um... Thank you for your generous offer. I'm not in charge of the festival."

  Madison sniffed. "Oh. I thought you were in charge of eeeeverything..."

  Nate ignored the dig. "Just helping out," he informed her, calmly. "And hey, if you would like to help, I'm sure the organizers would love someone who is an expert with social media." He was a frickin' hero the way he was able to be so inclusive of someone who was such a pain in the bucket. I don't think I could have done it.

  "It's called influencer," she chided. "And like I don't already use my platform and organic reach all the time already for this dump." She sat down at one of our tables and threw her bag onto the chair. "Okay, so what's the whole branding identity of this event?" She smiled at me. "Paige, be a dear and brew me a large pumpkin spiced latte with coconut milk, extra foam."

  "That'll be $4.25," I informed her.

  "Nate?" Madison said, staring at my boyfriend expectantly, as if thinking it was his job to pay.

  "Um... what?" he asked.

  She pointed at the cash register. "Um, I'm brainstorming for you and your stupid festival. Buy your volunteer some gratitude."

  Nate shook his head with disbelief, but pulled out his wallet. It was like he couldn't even believe he was doing this. Madison has that effe
ct on people.

  While Madison closed her eyes like she was summoning up some kind of genius vision, though, I motioned to him that his money was no good here. If he could take one for the team, I could, too.

  "Okay. So. Just tossing words around." She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, rolling her hands as if somehow that would make things flow. "Halloween. Autumn. Gruesome. Dismembered body parts. Blood—"

  "This is a family friendly event," Nate pointed out.

  She frowned. "How boring. Who wants to come to something stupid like that?"

  "Um... families? With kids? You know... the people the holiday was created for?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Do you know the spending power of a six-year-old? It is not much."

  "Yeah. That's why we are aiming for families."

  Madison huffed with frustration that he was not getting what she was trying to say. I walked over with her drink and she took it, then took two stevia packets out of her purse to sweeten it up. She flicked the bags impatiently.

  "Okay, well, if I'm going to be your social media manager, I need to have something I can sell. Something other than 'family friendly.' Don't you have a monster or a theme or something?"

  "Again, I'm not in charge," Nate reminded her.

  "Well, for the purposes of this assignment, pretend you are. Monsters? Anything?"

  "We weren't really thinking monsters." He shrugged. "I mean... maybe pumpkins?"

  "Doesn't this backwater island have local legends or something?"

  "I don't think so..."

  "Hey, we might have a ghost haunting Ralph's old place," I joked, leaning against the counter.

  Madison suddenly locked onto me like Captain when he spots a mouse. "Excuse me? A ghost?"

  "Oh, it was nothing," I was kind of taken aback by her intense interest. "Just we were upstairs and something fell and we joked it was a ghost."

  "No..." said Madison, slowly. It seemed like she was noodling through what I had shared like it was this genius revelation, and then she had an epiphany. "THIS I can work with. THIS can actually be something."

  "It was some unbalanced paint trays," I pointed out. "And there was an open window."

  "Well, don't tell anyone else that." Madison rose, grabbing her purse and her drink and her phone. "Don't you worry, Nate. I have already got a plan for how to upcycle this garbage patch into the best Halloween festival Seaside has ever seen!"

  Chapter Four

  "Johnny!" I called.

  It was a couple days later and my arms were filled with a heavy cardboard box. Inside, were a ton of old Halloween decorations Granny wanted to offload. Now, I don't know if it was because she actually wanted to get rid of them, or that she still felt a sense of protectiveness for my best friend, despite his newfound wealth, and wanted to make sure he wasn't left out of the festivities because he couldn't afford some candy corn colored bunting.

  I had a feeling it was the latter, but she needn't have worried. Seaside had continued its transformation into a Halloween town over the course of the week, and Johnny was on it.

  His dive shack was a masterpiece.

  I set down the box on a bench just to appreciate his work.

  The season for getting into the water had slowed down. There were still a few brave souls with their dry suits, but that didn't mean it wasn't still frickin' freezing. Johnny seemed to have taken advantage of the slowdown, however.

  He turned around and grinned, and then held out his arms to show off his décor. "Paige, may I present, my first haunted surf shack!"

  He had put up some strings of purple lights, but beside that, everything was homemade. He had created a graveyard using diving fins as the tombstones, and then stuffed an old wetsuit to look like it was rising from the dead and crawling out of the sand like a zombie. And then every single item on display in his shop featured googly eyes and some sort of costume. Air canisters with capes, boogie boards with piles of yarn hair, wetsuits wrapped like mummies in toilet paper.

  I laughed. "Johnny, this is AMAZING."

  He tucked his long, curly blond hair behind his ears as he stepped back to admire his own handiwork, and then like a fine artist, stepped forward to adjust the tilt of one construction paper fang.

  "Guess you don't need all these decorations Granny sent over," I said, holding up the box.

  "Ooo!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "Hand it over, Comber." He rushed over to grab the other side and helped me put it on the counter.

  "DUDE!" he said as he dug through. He pulled out a rubber bat by its elastic string. "Your Granny doesn't want any of this?" He shook his head in wonder. "I would have waited if I knew these treasures were on their way." He made a cawing sound as he made it jump up and down, and tried to land it on my head.

  I ducked, laughing. "Johnny, I think you got all of us beat with what you've put together here."

  He put down the bat and pulled out a plastic skeleton arm, trying to busy himself so I wouldn’t see how proud he was feeling. "This is my first time spending an October in Seaside since I was in middle school," he confessed. "Usually, I have to spend the off-season getting a part-time job on the mainland or taking off for a ski resort and working in equipment rental." He got a little choked up. "I just want it to be the best Halloween ever." He clutched the humerus to his chest like he just won an Oscar. Which, if you think about it, this Halloween did represent him winning a pretty big prize, namely a better life.

  "You make sure to come do some trick-or-treating down at Bitter Beans," I told him. I pulled my long, chestnut hair out of its rubber band and smoothed all the flyaways back into place. "Don't make Granny hunt you down to see your costume."

  "Fair trade, Paige!" he said, returning to the box of goodies and digging around like there was a prize at the bottom.

  But then, the evening ferry horn sounded and the ship pulled into port. I noticed a lot of people disembarking. Like, way more than normal. "Huh. That's weird," I commented.

  Johnny glanced up, tangled in a pile of fake cobwebs. "What's weird?"

  I pointed. "We never get this many people coming in on the evening ferry. I wonder what they're here for?"

  "Did they get the days of the festival confused?" Johnny asked, his brow furrowing. "Because I do that. A lot."

  "I dunno," I said, musing. "Want to come find out?"

  "Sure!" he chirped, excited by the prospect. He threw on his flip-flops and came out of the shack. He left a sign that said, "Back in a few minutes. Need something? Take it! Pay later. Karma." And then he trotted after me.

  The mass of people were around our age, and many were dressed in low-rent Halloween gear. Not full out costumes, but a t-shirt that was printed with a pirate shirt, and a headband that had a set of cat ears. Maybe Johnny was right and they had the days of the festival confused. With Madison the self-appointed social media influencer for the event, who knew what sort of misinformation she had thrown out there.

  However, they seemed to be a little lost. I waved at a girl wearing a t-shirt that said 'This is my costume'.

  "Can I help you find something?" I asked.

  She smiled gratefully. "You all are SO NICE on this island. SO NICE. So, we're supposed to find a saloon. For the tour?"

  Johnny and I exchanged curious glances. "Um... not sure about a tour, but I can take you to the saloon. Follow me."

  But instead of just her, she waved to the crowd. "This way! This NICE authentic local Seasider knows where the saloon is!" She turned to me, a vacant, friendly look on her face as the surging mass of people swept in behind us. "It is so important to get to know the locals. You know all the secrets and I, for one, am here to learn your insights on the best things to do here. Small businesses to support, local artisans... Remind me to take a selfie for my Insta when we get to the saloon."

  Before I could tell her my authentic feelings about being treated like some freakish unicorn, Johnny jogged up between us. "It's like we're the Pied Pipers of Halloween town!" Johnny exclaimed, then mimed
a little flute and kicked up his heels.

  I was grateful for the distraction. Faced with a new sparkly thing, the group whipped their phones out and already were filming Johnny as he cheerfully led our informal parade to the front of Trevor's saloon.

  Trevor was once my boyfriend. However, his uncle was a mass murderer and when he was thrown in jail, Trevor was tasked with figuring out what to do with his uncle's business. He took over, rebranded, and now was the proud owner of the one and only dive bar in town. Unfortunately, his girlfriend, Madison, took "dive bar" to a whole new level and stripped out the western saloon theme and redid it like the bottom of Davy Jones' locker.

  As the wave of college kids surrounded us, I wondered if this was Madison's doing, too. They seemed her type.

  And then I noticed the sandwich board in front of his bar. Written in chalk were the words: "Ghost Tours." And then, as if summoned, Madison stepped out of the trompe l'oeil painted submarine doors in a sexy wench pirate costume.

  "Avast, maties!" she cooed.

  Johnny's brow furrowed. "She's stealing my pirate tour idea."

  "I'll be taking your $20 bills in my treasure box!" she said with a wiggle, opening up a wooden chest.

  I shook my head as the crowd surged forward to hand her their cash. "I don't think anyone's going to get confused with the branding."

  "If she starts handing out metal detectors to find hidden treasure," Johnny replied, "I am going to be highly irate. HIIIIGhly irate."

  Madison circled the group, but when she came to us, rolled her eyes. "Please don’t tell me you're coming on the tour."

  "No!" I replied, shooting down that idea dead. "Wouldn't dream of it. Just helped everyone find the saloon."

  Her lips pursed like she hated the words about to come out of her mouth. "Oh. Well. Thanks."