Haunting at High Tide Page 7

  "OH! Cheap thrills?? CHEAP THRILLS??" Tango shouted, his voice getting louder and louder. The crowd was forming around him the way kids in a schoolyard gather around a fight.

  But then the door opened and Granny came in. I guess the fireworks had marked the end of the festival. She was carrying a few leftovers and supplies.

  But the moment she saw what was going down, she stepped forward, having none of that nonsense. "Boys, I am going to ask you to leave. This coffee shop is for paying customers only, not for swinging your tinkler around to see who is the most manly. Now, take it out on the street if you want to continue your discussion, but you are not welcome here."

  Granny has a way of putting you on notice. Both guys backed off. Tango stalked to the door, but not before pausing to turn dramatically. "But if you EVER put a blowup unicorn and glitter canon on my tour again, I will make a ghost out of you."

  And then he left, slamming the door behind him.

  I heard one of the girls next to me whisper guiltily to her friend. "We should have gone on that tour..."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Granny and her posse came in after their morning walk a couple days later. They were buzzing excitedly about something.

  "What's up?" I asked as I got their regular drinks ready for them.

  "Did you read the paper?" Wanda asked, stepping forward with her reusable insulated cup that read I Do Tricks for Treats.

  I took it from her and filled it with hot water. "No! It came but it's been really busy this morning. What did it say?"

  Granny brought it over, opened it to the entertainment section, and slapped it down on the counter. "That Lottie girl is a master with that pen," Granny remarked, jamming an orange fingernail onto the newsprint. "Serves those two boys right. Coming in here and picking a fight in my store."

  I took the paper from her and glanced over the article. It basically was a rundown of the two tours, but mostly a scathing exposé about the two guys running it and the rivalry between them. I guess it had been going on for years, and judging by the quotes Lottie had managed to get from the both of them, wasn't going away anytime soon.

  "I hope this doesn't hurt the bottom line for the island," I replied, not entirely as thrilled as Granny and her posse as they were.

  "All press is good press," said Granny. She turned to her friends. "Although, I wouldn't be entirely sad to see them go under myself."

  Holly shook her head primly, the Gibson girl bun on her head wobbling. "A whole lot of Halloween hocus pocus if you ask me. No respect for the island or the families living here. And rude! I don't know who is worse! That Echo or that Tango!"

  But speak of the devil, Tango stormed into the shop and made a beeline to the newsstand. We all watched him, curiously.

  He picked up the entire pile and tossed them on the counter in front of me. "I want you to throw all of these away," he demanded.

  "Um... no?" I answered. "I'm not eating our daily newsprint investment for some guy I've barely ever met."

  He stared at me for a few seconds, as if he couldn't understand the words that were coming out of my mouth. Finally, he said, "Fine. FINE!" He pulled out his wallet. "I would like to buy all of these newspapers and then I would like for you to throw them in the dumpster."

  I took his money. "I'm happy for you to buy them. Thank you for your purchase. However, I'm afraid that I don't have time to run out to the dumpster."

  "She's very busy with customers," sweet Holly said, her eyes blinking behind her thick glasses.

  "Fine! FINE!" Tango said, taking the stack and then heading out the door. He glared at me. "I see what you are doing. You're trying to ruin my career."

  "Dumpster's in the alley behind the shop." Wanda sucked her water loudly through her silicone straw.

  Disbelieving the insult to his ego he was enduring, Tango marched out the door.

  "Who needs to ruin his career when he is so good at ruining it himself," I muttered. "Sheesh..."

  But then he turned the wrong direction.

  Marnie shook her head. "Let's see how long it takes for him to figure it out..."

  Granny pulled out her watch. "I'll time it. Lay your bets down, girls!"

  But before they could pull out any of their spare change, Echo came running in.

  "I need all of the papers!" he shouted.

  We all recoiled from that amount of noise this early in the morning.

  "Tango just bought them all," I informed him.

  "Where did he go?" Echo asked, spinning and casting his eyes around the store high and low.

  "Out to the dumpster," Wanda stated, pointing her fingernail to the exit.

  Echo scowled at the door. "Probably already slandering my good name..."

  "Seriously, he was just taking them out to the dumpster," I said again since he seemed not to have heard it the first time.

  "That's what he wants you to believe," he spat before running out.

  "Those boys," Granny remarked, shaking her head. "Like two bull mooses rutting. Gotta sit there and knock each other on the heads to figure out their territory." She reached across the counter and gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm so glad you were a girl."

  But before any of us could say anything else, Tango was back and he was hopping mad. I think he finally figured out he had gone the wrong direction. Unfortunately, arms still filled with newspapers, he and Echo almost collided. I could hear their angry shouting even inside the shop. Then, Echo tried ripping the papers out of Tango's hands, but Tango was having none of that and pulled back just as hard. They both went down.

  "Oh, that's terrible," said Holly as their heads popped back up above the window frame in what looked like a wrestling hold.

  "We really should break it up," noted Marnie, trying to peer over the window frame.

  Wanda looked at the posse and smiled. "What was that about bull meese rutting?"

  "David Attenborough, eat your heart out," said Holly, straining to see.

  "We really should check if they are all right, shouldn't we?" Wanda asked.

  Marnie and Holly emphatically agreed, but Granny's left hand shot up as she flashed her ring. "Sorry, girls. I'm engaged."

  "Well, all you single ladies, follow me before they knock some sense into one another," said Wanda, leading the charge.

  Giggling, the posse made their way outside and made a halfhearted attempt to part the boys.

  Granny laughed and shook her head.

  The rest of the day passed without excitement until the afternoon ferry rolled in. And then, suddenly, the town was swamped. I was so grateful the Bitter Beans festival table had only been for one night. Gobs of people took a detour and headed for us. There was a line out the door.

  Granny came down from her room to relieve me, but saw the mass of people. "Mind a little overtime?" she asked, completely overwhelmed by the sight.

  "Not at all," I replied.

  Over the next twenty minutes, our tip jar was full, as well as the raffle basket for the new historical society. We couldn't work fast enough.

  "So, here for the festival?" I asked one of the customers as I sped to get her rung up.

  "No!" she exclaimed. "We saw that thing about the ghost hunters and decided it seemed like a fun thing to do for Halloween." She leaned forward. "We're thinking we'll try both of the tours. See who is really best."

  I glanced over at Granny who had the grace to give a shrug that seemed to say who could have known.

  She did. She had absolutely known that the article would bring in the masses like bees to honey.

  Things started to die down as the time for the tours drew closer. I wandered to look out the front window to see if it was safe for me to check out for the night and leave the shop to Granny.

  I could barely see Johnny over all the people. Evidently jealous of Tango's special effects, he was handing out glow stick headbands and bracelets to his tour customers. Green and pink neon bobbed up and down along the beach.

  But suddenly, Echo came tearing do
wn the road, his trench coat flapping behind him. He ran into the shop.

  "I need your bathroom," he said, looking totally green around the gills.

  I pointed him to the back and he dashed inside.

  And he was there for awhile.

  Fifteen minutes later, I checked my watch, wondering if I should knock on the door to see if he was okay. I mean, I'm sure he was. But maybe he wasn't. I didn't know how to handle this situation. I glanced down at my watch again.

  "Do you think I should check on him—" I began to ask Granny.

  But then Johnny came into the shop, worried. "Hey! Did you see Echo?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I think he might be sick. He asked to use our restroom," I answered, and then leaned a little closer. "He's been in there for awhile."

  He nodded, relieved. "Told him to come here." He wandered over and knocked softly on the door. "Dude? You alive? Did you hit your head on the sink or anything?"

  I heard a muffled reply. "I have poisoning. I've been poisoned."

  Puzzled, I checked in with Johnny. Did he mean food poisoning?

  "Did you eat something bad, dude?" Johnny asked, rubbing his stomach sympathetically. "Your tummy feeling gnarly?"

  "NO!" Echo called back. "I've been poisoned. I need an ambulance."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Granny was on it the moment the words escaped Echo's mouth. She had her phone whipped out and emergency services dialed before I even made it over to Johnny.

  My friend leaned closer. "Help is on the way, dude. Wanna open the door?"

  "Noooo..." Echo groaned from inside.

  "I have a key," I offered.

  Johnny nodded and I jogged over to get it.

  The nice thing about living in Seaside is that people are really close, and the closest EMT was actually just a couple buildings down, a guy named Tim who ran the bait shop.

  He ran into Bitter Beans with his medical bag. His red, curly hair was mussed, and he was wearing his visibility vest over his sweatpants and t-shirt. I must've interrupted him in the middle of a sleepy movie marathon or something, but he was here.

  He adjusted his brass, wire-rimmed frames. "Someone's been poisoned?"

  "He's in the bathroom," Granny said, pointing to the back wall. "Paige, unlock the door for Tim, would you dear?"

  I got the key in and opened it up.

  Echo was lying on the cold porcelain tiles, hugging the toilet. His face was pale and he groaned, but groaning meant he was still alive, which was good. His flat, black hair was sweaty and matted onto his face. Tim hurried in and began checking him out, lifting his lids and taking his pulse.

  "Vitals are good. I think he'll be okay," he told Johnny and me. "Probably a stomach flu or maybe he ate something bad."

  "I've been poisoned..." Echo mumbled.

  "I got him," Tim assured me and Johnny as he wet a paper towel. "You do what you need to do. I'll get him cleaned up. The ambulance is on the way. We'll bring him over to the clinic and get some fluids in him, see if there's anything in his stomach that he could use some help getting out."

  "Pooooisoned..." Echo muttered.

  "Dude! Echo!" I could see that Johnny was trying to keep him talking, tapping into those years of being a lifeguard. Tim motioned to keep going, that it was good to give him a reason to stay conscious. "What am I supposed to do without you, my main man? You're my tour guide, Echo! What am I supposed to do with all these people who came to see you? There's mad crowds! Not angry-mad. Just, like, mad-crazy a LOT of people mad crowds. And, heck, I invested a lot of money at the dollar store on those glow sticks."

  "The glow sticks are dumb..." Echo was conscious enough to murmur.

  Guess he wasn't so far gone.

  "Well, you could lead the tour yourself," I said to Johnny, trying to egg Echo into sitting up and telling us what he thought about the idea.

  "Oh man..." he said. "I can't remember the real history of this town, much less the fake history."

  "Ghosts are real..." Echo blathered.

  Johnny and I fell into silence, not sure what else to say.

  Granny came over and shooed us toward the front door. "Go take care of your guests, Johnny. You have a big crowd. I'll stay here with Echo."

  "Are you sure?" I asked.

  "Absolutely," she replied. "This is too big to blow off. We need to make sure all those people have a good time."

  "I'll be there in a minute..." Echo slurred.

  Granny began physically pushing Johnny and me out the door. "GO!"

  We stepped onto the boardwalk and began walking fast toward the surf shack. Granny was right, there was a massive crowd milling about nervously. We needed to do some damage control before they went home and complained about how lame Seaside was and how some dork with a surf shack ripped them off.

  Johnny seemed to have a deer-in-headlights moment as he tried to figure out what to do next. But then the light bulb went off.

  "Would you come with me?" Johnny asked me. "Like, I'll do the tour and stuff, but just let me know if I'm getting anything wrong. And also if you could remember what I say so that I can tell everyone the same thing tomorrow if Echo still isn't feeling good?"

  I squeezed his arm, honored he needed me to be there in his hour of need for some moral support. "Of course. Do it!"

  And then Johnny flipped the switch on his nerves and showed only his master showman charm. You know, if the master showman was a burned out surfer who had been knocked on the head a couple too many times.

  "Sorry!" apologized Johnny. "Slight change in plans! You'll be getting a tour with one of the people who was actually a witness to some of the brutal crimes here on the island and the ghosts they left behind."

  "Johnny..." I cautioned.

  "Just part of the show," he said out of the side of his mouth. "Play along." He raised his voice again. "Okay! Everyone follow me!"

  He picked up the remaining glow sticks and held them aloft like some tour guides hold up umbrellas. It was actually pretty effective in the dark. We all slowly began to climb the hill to Main Street. I grabbed Echo's ghost box from the surf shack, and made sure to take the rear, keeping all the stragglers moving along.

  "All right, m'hearties." Johnny seemed to be having a rough time deciding if he wanted to go with ghost hunter or pirate. "Seaside is the home to some of the most gruesome murders. And we're here to introduce you to some of the ghosts who still live here."

  I was waiting for him to go into the sordid details of the past summer, but instead, Johnny started spinning stories about haunted fishermen who were lost at sea and ghosts who pushed people off of cliffs, and secret bandits who left their treasure inside the old bank and an old cannery worker who had died. It was kind of everything that had happened on our island, but set with the distance and safety of history.

  I couldn't help but reflect on how Johnny is sometimes pretty darn genius. And even better, people were eating it up. The glazed over eyes of past tours were gone. People were laughing and joking, and thoroughly enjoying Johnny's pirate-surfer persona.

  Finally, we ended up next to the old hardware store.

  Johnny pointed up at the second story. "And here, Paige herself was with a group of people when a poltergeist appeared and knocked over a stack of products.

  All eyes shifted over to me expectantly, as if waiting for me to confirm or deny it. But then, suddenly, someone shouted, "Look! There's someone up there!"

  A girl in our group screamed and pointed.

  We all turned just in time to see a pale face appear and then disappear in the dark glass.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fred and Stan met me outside the hardware store. Johnny had taken the tour on, declaring, "You won't see that on the other tours!"

  Everyone was in a tizzy that they might have seen an actual ghost. Neither he nor I bothered telling them it was probably an intruder. The last thing this island needed was reports of burglars. So, I handed over Echo's ghost box and Johnny had the good sense to switch it o
n and pretend like they were hot on the trail of some paranormal disturbance. But as soon as they were out of earshot range, I made a call to our local police station.

  "You say there's been a robbery?" Stan asked, waddling forward with his hands resting authoritatively on his utility belt. "Because I was just getting ready to watch the ballroom national championships, and if I miss it because you're playing a prank—"

  "Natasha and Dimetri are going to sweep," Fred stated for the record, his mustache twitching.

  Stan turned to him, his face flushing. "It is going to be Jerome and Gennifer, Fred. Jerome and GENNIFER. This is THEIR YEAR."

  They were interrupted by the shuffling footsteps of Ralph, the hardware shop's owner. He was wearing corduroy and a ratty flannel shirt. He adjusted the dial on his hearing aids.

  "Say there's been a break in at the store?" he asked, pulling his keys out of his pocket. They were attached by a string to the belt loops of his pants.

  Shakily, his hands fit the key into the lock and he slowly opened the door. It was taking so long, the burglar probably had enough time to escape, circle around, grab a drink at Trevor's saloon, and catch the ferry to head to the mainland.

  It was dark inside, with just the moon illuminating the rows of pieces and parts. Ralph flipped on the lights and stepped inside, kicking aside a dustpan. "My personal security system," he said to me with a wink. "Got the idea from that movie Home Alone."

  I guess that was one way to do it if you were sticking to a budget.

  He waved his arm around the building. "Poke around! Heck, at this rate, I'd thank anyone who came to rob me. Save me on a liquidation sale."

  "The face we saw was upstairs," I said to Stan and Fred.

  They unholstered their pepper spray and crept cautiously toward the wooden steps, spinning around the ends of the aisles to make sure no one was lying in wait.

  "What did he look like?" Ralph asked.

  "Young. Maybe a teenager?" I said. "It was dark and I saw him for only a second."

  "Hmmm..." Ralph mused.