Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Teaser chapter
Praise for the Ghost Hunter Mysteries
“[A] hauntingly good whodunit filled with plenty of action.” —BookReview.com
“[A] fun, suspenseful, fast-paced paranormal mystery. All the elements combine to make this entry in the Ghost Hunter series a winner.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“A lighthearted, humorous haunted-hotel horror thriller kept focused by ‘graveyard’-serious M.J.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Ms. Laurie has penned a fabulous read and packed it with ghost-hunting action at its best. With a chilling mystery, a danger-filled investigation, a bit of romance, and a wonderful dose of humor, there’s little chance that readers will be able to set this book down.”
—Darque Reviews
“A bewitching book blessed with many blithe spirits. Will leave you breathless.”
—Nancy Martin, author of the
Blackbird Sisters Mysteries
“Victoria Laurie continues to excite and entertain with her ideas and characters and also inform John Q. Public in matters metaphysical. Cannot wait for the next from Ms. Laurie!”—AuthorsDen.com
“Perhaps what makes this story and this series so good is that Victoria Laurie is actually a professional medium. She knows what she’s talking about, and she sure can write a good story.”—A Bibliophile’s Bookshelf
“A great, fast-paced, addicting read.”
—Enchanting Reviews
“A great story.”—MyShelf.com
“Laurie’s new sleuth, M. J. Holliday, is a winner. ... Laurie makes everything that her characters do ring true, which can be a feat in a paranormal story. This highly entertaining book has humor and wit to spare.”
—Romantic Times
Praise for the
Abby Cooper, Psychic Eye Mysteries
“Victoria Laurie has crafted a fantastic tale in this latest Psychic Eye Mystery. There are few things in life that upset Abby Cooper, but ghosts and her parents feature high on her list ... giving the reader a few real frights and a lot of laughs.”—Fresh Fiction
“Fabulous. ... Fans will highly praise this fine ghostly murder mystery.”—The Best Reviews
“A great new series ... plenty of action.”
—Midwest Book Review
“An invigorating entry into the cozy mystery realm. ... I cannot wait for the next book.”
—Roundtable Reviews
“A fresh, exciting addition to the amateur sleuth genre.”
—J. A. Konrath, author of Cherry Bomb
“Worth reading over and over again.”
—BookReview.com
The Ghost Hunter Mystery Series
What’s a Ghoul to Do?
Demons Are a Ghoul’s Best Friend
Ghouls Just Haunt to Have Fun
Ghouls Gone Wild
The Psychic Eye Mystery Series
Abby Cooper, Psychic Eye
Better Read Than Dead
A Vision of Murder
Killer Insight
Crime Seen
Death Perception
Doom with a View
A Glimpse of Evil
OBSIDIAN
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First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
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First Printing, January 2011
Copyright © Victoria Laurie, 2011
eISBN : 978-1-101-47664-2
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Acknowledgments
I’m gonna get right to the important part this time, which is to thank the many people who make up Team Laurie and in general make me look good—far better than I’d appear on my own, that’s for sure!
First, to my editor, the amazing, astounding, awesome, wonderful, (Shall I go on? Maybe just one more ...) glorious Ms. Sandra Harding, who is simply fabulous to work with! Sandy, your enthusiasm, your engaging attitude, and the encouragement and free rein you’ve given me to explore ideas and just run with what feels good to me are so very much appreciated. It takes a lot of courage to simply trust that I’ll come up with something decent when all I’ve given you at the start is the tiny seed of an idea, and for that trust, I genuinely, genuinely thank you.
Next, to my glorious agent, Jim McCarthy, who seven years ago reached into the agency slush pile and pulled my query letter out of the trash. ... How do you thank someone for giving you a second chance when no one else would? For literally being the person responsible for making one of your closest-held dreams come true? For believing that you’d get there and congratulating you when you did? For simply being the best agent and most amazing friend in the whole freaking world? You can’t, because there aren’t words to describe the gratitude I feel and how blessed I am to have you in my corner, honey. So, Jim, you’ll just have to settle for another “thank you” b
ut know that the feeling of profound gratitude from me is much, much more.
Also, huge thanks go to the rest of my NAL team, including, (but not limited to) Michele Alpern, who has once again delivered an outstanding copyedit! Claire Zion for her unending faith in both Abby and M. J., and my publicists Megan Swartz and Kaitlyn Kennedy, who do amazing things for me behind the scenes.
A set of very special thanks to my .com team: Katie Coppedge, who has been utterly invaluable to me of late and who keeps my clients organized, me on track, and the Web site looking all faaaaabulous! Heart you fierce, pretty lady! Also to my sistah from another mistah, Hilary Laurie, who is my very own Dear Abby and one of my very favorite people on the planet. Thank you for always being there and providing that voice of reason and good sense. Oh, and thanks for the laughs too. Methinks I like that part best!
Finally, I would like to thank my friends and family who have continuously stepped up to the plate to offer support, love, and unending encouragement. A few special mentions here and they are: Mary Jane Humphreys; Nora, Bob, and Mike Brosseau; Leanne Tierney; Karen Ditmars; Neil and Kim Mahoney; Dr. Jennifer Casey; Betty and Pippa Stocking; Shannon Dorn; Silas Hudson; Juan Tamayo; Thomas Robinson; Susan Parsons; Molly Boyle; and Martha Bushko. You guys rule!
Chapter 1
For the record, I am not a morning person. Especially not this morning, because, technically, I believe it was so early, it still might have qualified as being the middle of the night. Still, the hour did nothing to dampen my producer’s enthusiasm while discussing the next shooting location for our cable TV show, Ghoul Getters. “I know you guys don’t want to hear too much about the history of the place we’re investigating,” Peter Gophner—aka 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 best friend’s head resting on my shoulder.
“Gil,” I whispered, nudging him with my elbow.
“ZZZZZZZZZ ...,” he snored.
My fellow ghostbuster, Heath, laughed quietly. “He’s out cold,” he said. “He looked pretty wiped out when we left the hotel.”
“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 Ireland. From the airport we’ll travel by car to the village of Dunlee and check in at our lodgings. Once we get a little 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 just off the coastline of the channel that ran between Scotland and Ireland. “Are we going scuba diving?” I asked.
Gopher smiled and for the first time he seemed to detect the rather cranky mood from 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 northern coast. The island is primarily made up of a small rocky shore surrounding a huge block of rock that juts up about a hundred feet. The top of the rock is quite flat and is about five hundred meters wide and eight hundred meters long.”
“That’s a big chunk of rock,” I said.
“It is, and four centuries ago, in fifteen eighty-four, someone decided it was the perfect place to build a castle.”
“How do you get up to it?” John, our sound tech, asked.
“Well, on the island itself, there is a set of stone stairs carved into the rock that lead right up to the top,” Gopher said smartly. “But the tricky part is actually getting to the island at all.”
“You’d have to go in by boat, right?”
But Gopher shook his head. “Nope. Boats are too dangerous because of the currents, shallow water, and submerged rock formations. Only the coast guard is allowed in that part of the channel.”
“So how does one get to the rock?” I asked.
“There’s a man-made causeway that, during low tide, extends a little over one and a half kilometers from the Irish coastline directly to the shores of the rock.”
“During low tide?” Heath interrupted. “What’s it like during high tide?”
“It’s underwater,” Gopher said with a chuckle of appreciation. “I’m tellin’ you, the guy who built this castle was a friggin’ master of defense.”
“So we can only travel to and from the castle twice a day?”
“Twice a day for about four hours each turn. Plenty of time for us to get in to do a little investigation and take some footage, then call it a day and scoot back across the causeway before the tide rolls in again.”
I looked at him skeptically. “How’d you hear about this place?”
“I got a tip from one of the local historians,” he said. “But wait. I haven’t got to the best parts yet.”
Heath and I exchanged a less than enthused look. With a sigh I said, “Proceed.”
“So, as I was saying, on this rock is this amazing fortress called Castle Dunlow. It was built in the late sixteenth century and was occupied right up until the early twentieth century. The place is a historical landmark and I had to get special permission from the town council to investigate it, because normally it’s completely off-limits to tourists.”
Gopher looked around at us with an expression that suggested we should be impressed. 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 scowled. “Anyway,” he continued, “Dunlow Castle comes with a pretty rich history and is reported to be chock-full of ghosts.”
“Hopefully it’s not quite as haunted as Queen’s Close,” I muttered, referring to the rather dicey ghostbust we’d just come off.
Our producer ignored me and laid out an aerial photo of the castle. “Legend has it that in the late fifteen hundreds, before the castle was even fully completed, several ships in the Spanish Armada were sent to attack England, but were pretty soundly defeated, and when they turned back, a storm caused about two dozen ships in the fleet to crash all along the northern and western Irish coastline. One of those ships actually crashed on the rocks right next to Dunlow Castle. The lord of the manor, a guy named Ranald Dunnyvale, sent his men to capture the ship’s crew and held them at the castle until the war with Spain was over.
“It turns out that the ship that crashed was carrying some heavy hitters in the Spanish Armada, and Dunnyvale was eventually able to ransom these guys back to Spain for a hefty sum.”
I yawned. 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. “Now, Dunnyvale wasn’t the only guy to take prisoners—a lot of ships sank during that storm and several hundred Spaniards found their way to shore and Irish dungeons—but the difference with Dunnyvale’s conquest was that the ship that crashed on his rock remained very much intact and he was able to take all the spoils from it, including what many believed was the payroll for the entire fleet in the form of 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 sneaked it off the Spanish ship and hid it somewhere in his castle.” Again, Gopher looked around at us eagerly, 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 impatiently on the brim of his ball cap. “The ghost of Ranald is one of
the spooks said to haunt the castle!”
Again, we all just stared at him blankly. “Soooooo?” I finally said.
“Wow, you guys really are slow on the uptake in the mornings,” he grumbled. Then he spoke slowly as if we were children struggling with the concept of two plus two. “If M. J. and Heath can find Ranald and talk to him, maybe he’ll tell you guys where he’s hidden the gold.”
That got my attention. “Hold on,” I said. “You mean to tell me this bust isn’t so much about documenting spooks as it’s about sending us on a treasure hunt?”
Gopher beamed at me. “Yes!”
“ZZZZZZ ...,” said Gilley.
I eyed Heath over the top of 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 said, “We’re in!”
Gopher let out a relieved sigh. “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 told him.
Heath was equally enthused. “This could open up a whole new line of business for us,” he said. “Instead of ghostbusters, we could be psychic treasure hunters!”
“Or we could just cash in the gold and retire early,” I suggested.
“There’s just one catch,” Gopher added softly.
I snapped my attention back to him. “What’d you say?”
Gopher smiled nervously. “It shouldn’t be any big deal. ...”
“A time to worry,” Heath groaned.
I folded my arms and eyed Gopher critically. “I’m thinking we’re finally going to learn the reason the castle’s normally off-limits. Okay, Gopher, what’s the catch?”
Gopher sighed. “Supposedly the castle’s also haunted by a powerful phantom.”