Zoey Matthews, the Unwanted Ghost, and the Cursed Manuscript: A Bridgeport Mystery, #2

By Heather Elizabeth King

Could you face your greatest fear? 

 

The holiday season is in full swing and the only thing Zoey wants to do is get to know her new boyfriend better. But when a ghost shows up at her loft with the name of her killer on her lips, Zoey knows she's being pulled into another mystery. This one is more puzzling than the last. According to police, the woman died of natural causes, but people who were nearby claim to have heard the victim screaming for help before she died. When a second body turns up, killed in the same manner, Zoey knows Bridgeport has another killer on its hands.

 

Helping Zoey get to the bottom of things are a meddling ghost, a paranormal investigator, and Zoey's two best girlfriends. When Zoey finds herself in the crosshairs of the killer, she knows time is running out.

 

Zoey Matthews, the Unwanted Ghost, and the Cursed Manuscript is the second book in an urban fantasy series that features an engaging mystery, a cast of supernatural characters, a few alluring men, and a heroine who may be afraid of ghosts, but still manages to get the job done.

 

Get your copy of Zoey Matthews, the Unwanted Ghost, and the Cursed Manuscript today to continue your journey with Zoey into the supernatural.

 

Warning: Contains adult language, a bit of sex, and a few really creepy characters

 

NOTE: This book was previously released

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Lily Books
• Release date: Aug 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393581338

Book preview

Chapter One

Dorinda Morgan walked in on the attack right before it went down, and cursed herself for being stupid enough for going into a Thrift-Mart on a Friday night after midnight. But she’d been out dancing with friends, and of course, drinking. Truth be told, she probably shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel. It wasn’t like she was twenty anymore. She was a wife now and had a daughter. Misty was damn near an adult herself. But Dorinda had gone out tonight with her girlfriends for the first time in a long time and she’d had way too much to drink. When you were dancing half the night you couldn’t feel the alcohol so much. Unfortunately, she could feel it ten minutes into the drive home. It was like, one moment she was fine, the next, she was drunk. She still had a good thirty minutes, at least, until she got home.

Why had she taken this way home, anyway? If she’d gone 460 she could have stopped at the Quick-E-Mart on the highway, but she’d taken a short cut. And now she was stuck in the middle of…where exactly was she?

She thought that maybe she could ease her way back toward the door without being noticed. The cashier’s eyes were wide and glued to the crazy woman. There was another customer, a young Asian girl, who was standing with her back against the rack of chewing gum, also staring at the crazy woman. Dorinda figured the girl was somewhere in her early twenties. Far too young to know how to react in such a situation.

The crazy woman shuffled down the aisle with her arms held out at her sides, knocking down bags of potato chips and pretzels as she went.

Dorinda couldn’t see the woman’s her face from where she was standing, she could only make out the back of the woman from the mirror high up on the back wall of the store. Was the nut in a nightgown? And what was on that nightgown? It was splattered with green muck. Disgusting. Even worse, Dorinda was pretty sure the crazy woman hadn’t brushed or washed her hair in at least a week.

Dorinda knew she should leave. Now. She had a sense that something really bad was about to go down. But she felt kinda bad about leaving the cashier and girl behind to deal with this. Maybe it was her conscience or maybe it was all that whiskey, but Dorinda found herself moving forward instead of back toward the door.

I don’t want any trouble, the cashier was saying. He was just a kid. Couldn’t have been more than seventeen, if that. And, like the Asian girl, he didn’t look like he had ever had to deal with crazy before.

Dorinda had. For a while, dealing with crazy was what she did most. And best.

The crazy woman in the nightgown walked out of the aisle, shuffling toward the register. That’s when Dorinda noticed she was barefoot. The loon didn’t have on any shoes.

Yep, Dorinda thought, bat ape crazy!

The Asian girl’s hands shot up to her mouth and a muffled screamed petered out from between her fingers.

The cashier stepped back until there was nowhere to retreat to.

Dorinda went closer.

We don’t want any trouble, the cashier screamed this time. His voice hitched and broke, as though he were only thirteen and going through puberty.

The crazy woman moved closer to the register.

Dorinda had had enough. Hey there! she shouted at the crazy woman. Hey, you, leave those kids alone.

The crazy woman stopped walking, as Dorinda hoped she would. She froze where she was for a moment, then slowly turned toward Dorinda.

She turned, and for the first time, Dorinda could see her face.

The scream started somewhere down in the pit of Dorinda’s stomach and bubbled up and out of her like a horn blast.

A thought rose and fell so fast that Dorinda’s fear muddled mind barely had time to latch onto it. Run, the thought had told her. Run!"

But she didn’t run.

She couldn’t.

For Dorinda Morgan, it was too late.

Chapter Two

I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Ren was staying over tonight. We’d only been together a little over a month and a sleepover was a big deal. The very delicate question of, was I ready for him to see me without makeup yet, was in play. There was also the question of what I should wear to bed. Usually I slept naked, but I didn’t think I’d do that tonight. He wasn’t staying over for sex, after all. At least, I didn’t think he was. We were having movie night and he’d wanted to bring The Conjuring 2 to watch. I’d told him there was no way in the world I could watch that movie, then sleep alone in my house. He promptly volunteered to stay over. He said we’d have a slumber party. So here he was, in my bathroom changing into PJ’s. There I was, in a black nightgown. But would I remain in the black nightgown?

Connor floated into my bedroom, drifting toward me on his back as though he were doing the backstroke in a pool.

My bedroom is off limits, I whispered to the annoying ghost.

You wearing that? He looked me up and down, then shook his head sadly.

What’s wrong with it?

You look like a nun. A man like that, he ain’t used to his girls dressing up like nuns. He’s used to women with sex appeal.

I looked down at my nightgown. It’s sexy.

He tut-tutted me. Still ain’t giving it up, eh?

None of your business.

The pink boxers and tank top. I promise. It’s a much better look on you. He won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.

I’m not taking fashion advice from a ghost.

Look like a nun, then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I jerked a finger at my bathroom door. He’s in the bathroom, you jerk. Wait a minute. Have you been watching us?

Watching what? He snorted. Nothing ever happens in here.

You’re not supposed to be in here.

You better give it up, or pretty boy is gonna walk.

Go away, Connor.

I’m just saying. He blew a raspberry and floated out the room.

If he didn’t watch himself, I’d have him exorcised.

I checked the bathroom and saw the light was still on. What was he doing in there?

On the positive, that meant there was still time. I ran to my dresser, shimmied out of the nightgown and into the cute pink and white striped boxer shorts and a low-cut, white tank top. Another five seconds were wasted as I surveyed the results in the mirror.

Damn that nosy ghost, this was a better outfit than the nightgown.

The light in the bathroom went out. Then Ren was there, in loose jogging pants and a fitted, black tee-shirt. His dark blonde hair was plastered to his skull, but somehow, he still managed to look ridiculously handsome. He had the kind of lips that could give a woman a wet dream, and I knew from experience that he knew how to use them. He was tall, had a few tattoos high on his biceps. He looked disreputable, especially when he was half naked. And he was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

He saw me watching him and smiled. Then he crossed the room.

Zoey, he made a circuit around me, whistling and catcalling. That is sexy. Do you really dress like that at slumber parties?

Ren, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been to a slumber party?

So, I’m your first in a long time. He stopped and stood in front of me, hands on hips, mouth quirked up in a half smile.

I stared at him, at his face, then at his lips, then into his eyes.

The kiss, when it came, was a gentle brushing of his lips over mine. Then he kissed my forehead and trailed kisses to my ear. He whispered sweet things into my ear that made my toes curl.

Then he stepped back. Pizza must be done.

Huh?

I’ll go get it.

With that, he was off to the kitchen. A few moments later he shouted, Pumpkin ale or Blonde Hunny?

I got into bed and sat on the covers. Blonde Hunny!

He returned carrying a tray with our pizza and two beers on top of it. The tray was deposited in the center of the bed. While he got the movie going, I fluffed our pillows.

We’d eaten most of the pizza and drank two beers each before the movie was forgotten in favor of making out. As was his way, as soon as I got to the point where I wanted him to rip my clothes off, he settled back on the bed, fingers entwined under his head. You have to rewind. We missed most of the movie.

Huh?

The movie. We missed most of it.

Sighing, I grabbed the remote and started rewinding. I thought about asking him if he were impotent or frigid, but wasn’t sure how to make the question sound conversational. It had only been a little over a month. Maybe I was rushing things.

Once I found the spot in the movie we last remembered watching, we both sat back and stared at the television. His arm was around me, holding me against the warmth of his body. It was cozy and comfortable in his arms. It was always cozy and comfortable in his arms.

I don’t remember when I fell asleep. I just remember curling up closer to him and enjoying the feel of his chest rising and falling against my cheek.

I woke with Connor’s face inches from mine. I could just make it out by the glow of the streetlights shining into my bedroom windows. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised, and the small bullet wound to the temple was barely visible with his head tilted so far to the right. He was stage whispering my name.

I looked for Ren, then saw that he had rolled to the other side of the bed.

What? I asked Connor, annoyed.

If this place is gonna become the Grand Central Station of ghosts, you need to tell me. This is not what I signed up for.

So leave.

A moment later, his words sank in. I sat up. Oh no.

Oh yes. She’s downstairs. I told her house rules are that your bedroom is off limits. And your closet, too.

He floated up and away from the bed without looking back.

Groaning, I looked at Ren once more to see if we’d woke him up. But he was sleeping soundly. Willa had tucked herself in next to him, and Piglet had her usual position at the foot of the bed. Everyone was asleep. Everyone except me and Connor.

I pushed the covers aside and got out of bed.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about this. I didn’t want to see another newly dead person. Last time this had happened my visitor, Jonah, had been dragged to hell by a group of demons right in front of my eyes. I did not want a repeat performance.

Why come to me? That’s what I wondered, walking down to the main floor. Why not cross over and live out the rest of the next part of their journey and leave me out of it?

I reached the main level and flipped on the lights. All the lights. I made a circuit through the kitchen, into the sunroom, then toward the living room. At first, I didn’t see her. But when I came around the corner and into the living room, she was floating above the sofa. Even though I hadn’t seen the movie in decades, the American Werewolf in London scene where David is in the hospital and visited by his deceased friend who’d been mauled to death by the werewolf, popped into my head. This woman looked like that. Her skin had been shredded and torn. She was barely recognizable as human.

She’s not like me. Connor came up behind me. You have to look at her, otherwise you won’t know what she’s saying.

Can you just tell me what she wants? Be a sort of, ghost to human translator?

Connor flipped me the bird, then floated away.

I sucked in a breath and went closer.

She had died hard. I had no desire to know the details, but I knew enough to know that nobody deserved to die like that.

I took in another breath. What happened to you?

She began to move, almost frantically. I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but like Jonah before her, I couldn’t hear a word.

Then I realized she was only saying one word. She was saying it over and over again.

Linda? I asked.

She nodded. Linda. Linda. Linda.

Then, like the last time, the sound of rumbling began off in the distance. Last time that sound had been the precursor of demons.

I started stepping away from the woman, mouthing that I was sorry.

Linda, she seemed to be shouting it now, though I couldn’t hear. Linda!"

Who is Linda? Where is she? Is she the one who…who…hurt you?

Then came the sonic boom. I wasn’t in my bed this time. The force of it sent me careening backward. I fell over and landed on the floor. My pictures shook then clattered onto the floorboards, trinkets on shelves fell over.

Not again. I hugged myself, crouching low, hands over my head. I tried to cover my eyes with my forearm. I tried, but when my room went bright white, I peeked. The light was so bright I couldn’t look at it for long. But for the seconds I did look, I saw figures moving around in the light. Somehow, they were even more dazzling than the whiteness surrounding them. They encircled the woman, but I sensed no malice in them. Not like the demons that had come for Jonah.

A feeling of love washed over me. Then I had to look away.

The rumbling got louder. Beneath the rumbling, I could hear music. The sound of singing. Of celebration.

Then everything stopped. The room grew quiet and the white light was gone.

So was the woman.

I looked up at the spot where she’d been. Nothing. There was nothing there.

Ren came barreling down the stairs. What the hell was that? He was next to me quite suddenly, and patting me down. Are you okay? What happened?

He found me gazing at the spot where the woman had been, tears streaming down my face.

Zoey, what’s wrong? What happened?

She went to heaven. I was unable to keep the sob from spilling free.

He looked at me, then at the now empty spot. What?

She didn’t go to hell, Ren. Angels came, or maybe it was her loved ones. I don’t know. But they took her to heaven. They were singing and celebrating.

He must have figured the only thing injured was my brain, because he stopped patting me down and settled on his butt beside me. Slow down. Start from the beginning.

There’s been a murder. A woman was killed. I think she wants me to find out who killed her. I think the murderer is someone named Linda.

Ren stood and began walking around the room, looking for the ghost, muttering, Son of a bitch, under his breath.

She’s gone, Ren.

Bastards.

She’s gone.

Zoey, I’m sorry you had to see that again.

No, not like Jonah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She didn’t go to Hell like Jonah. They came and took her to Heaven. It was beautiful. She was surrounded by love. There was this bright, white light, and singing. I paused, remembering it. It was…I don’t know. I don’t know if I can describe it. It was warm. It was…peaceful, but I couldn’t look at it for more than a few seconds.

He went toward the spot where I was looking.

I sat back on my heels and brushed the palms of my hands over my cheeks, wiping away the tears.

I could see figures in the light, Ren. Or maybe the light was coming from them. They were so brilliant I couldn’t look at them for long. That’s why I think they were angels. She’s in a good place, but I’m pretty sure she was murdered. I got to my feet.

Ren fell into an armchair, hands over his face. Not again, Zoey.

What do you mean, not again?

I mean, I thought it was just Jonah. Did you know this person when she was alive?

No.

Then why come to you?

I don’t know. Because I can see her, maybe.

Even so, you’re not a cop. This is Bell and Harris’ job, not yours. He looked up at me. His eyes were red rimmed and tired looking, his hair disheveled.

I didn’t know what to say.

We’re going to the winery in a few weeks, staying at the B and B you’ve been talking about since I met you. You don’t need to get involved with another murder. The last one was so hard on you. You deserve a break and a little fun. He came to me and set a kiss on my forehead.

The Farmhouse at Veritas, I said, quietly.

He started for the stairs, pausing at the bottom to look back at me. Yes. Where we’re going to have a wonderful time without any ghosts. Come back to bed.

In a minute. I smiled to show him I was all right. He went up a few steps before I called to him.

He stopped, then turned to face me. Yeah?

Have you ever seen an angel? I think…well, if demons came for Jonah, it stands to reason that angels came for this woman, right?

He didn’t answer for a few moments. I don’t know, Zoey. I don’t know anyone who’s ever seen an angel. Ghosts, yes. Demons, yes, but never an angel. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t.

If I did, it’s rare?

Ren frowned. Not rare, unheard of. He came back down the stairs and took one of my hands. We should keep this between us.

He tugged me gently to my feet.

I stood and nodded. Should I be worried? You’re kind of making me nervous.

No. He set another kiss on my forehead. No worries. Now let’s get back to bed.

Chapter Three

The morning came too soon. By the time I was awake, Ren was gone. He’d cleared the empty beer bottles and dishes.

I pushed the covers aside, waking Piglet, then got out of bed. I needed coffee. Until recently, all I’d have had to do was go down to the kitchen and set the coffee to brew. I’d sit in the window seat in the sunroom, waiting, and within minutes, the main floor would be filled with the scent of coffee. Those had been wonderful mornings. Now, my sister Surrey was here six mornings a week at six, doing the meal prep for the small food counter she ran in our mom’s bookstore.

The bookstore was down on the ground floor of my building. My mom owned the building and I rented the loft from her. It was convenient, but having your mom as a landlord wasn’t always fun. Believe me.

I showered and dressed in jeans and a thick wool sweater. I put on my glasses and threw some makeup on so I wouldn’t startle anyone on the street. It was only a little after six, but Bridgeport woke early.

I slid into boots, then went down to the kitchen.

Surrey must have heard me on the stairs because she turned Anita Baker up and sashayed across the kitchen. Hey girl! Surrey seemed chipper for a Monday morning. Ren said to tell you he can’t make lunch today. He has a meeting in Richmond and won’t make it back in time.

He hadn’t mentioned anything to me last night about a meeting. I didn’t think people, even artists, set up important meetings in the wee hours of the morning.

Surrey was putting loaves of bread into the oven to heat, but stopped when she saw me standing in the center of the kitchen, arms hanging at my sides. She stood up straight and set her hands on her hips. What’s wrong with you?

I was visited by a murdered ghost last night, I thought, but said. Nothing. I’m still waking up.

You sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, little sis.

I set my purse down at the front door, then returned to the kitchen. It only took a few seconds to fill the cat dish with food and give them fresh water. Piglet appeared beside me as though magically summoned. No doubt lazy Willa was still asleep up in bed. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.

Hey, did Mom tell you the Romas from next door are moving south? Apparently, their daughter just had a baby. They’re going down there to help out.

They’re selling their store? But they’ve been there forever.

That’s not the craziest part.

What? I could tell she was excited by the way she was dancing from foot to foot.

Mom is thinking of buying the building and expanding.

I stared at my sister.

Best part, she’d put a kitchen where their storeroom is. Sure, she’ll need a bigger storeroom herself since she’s expanding to include all genres of books, but with all that extra space she can pretty much do anything.

What about the apartments?

Current residents get to stay. But the guy up on the top floor put his notice in a month ago. I may be your new neighbor. She finished with a high-pitched scream and happy dance.

Sheesh, Connor floated down from the ceiling and stared at my sister, resentfully. What’s with the racket?

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. That would be great. It would solve all your problems.

She danced to me and gave me a hug. And yours. She grinned.

What problems do I have?

This. She pointed to the oven. Me here every morning at six.

That’s not a problem.

Sure. That’s why you escape to the Apple Basket every morning.

I smiled. It’s not a problem. My kitchen is your kitchen.

It was after six, but it was still dark outside. The lights in The Square reflected orange light onto the sidewalks and the large grassy area at the center of town. This was my favorite time of the day, when most of the world was still sleeping, the birds were singing, and you could see the warm glow of lights from inside shops. In a couple days, all of Bridgeport would be decorating for Christmas. That meant music in The Square, dancing, hot chocolate, and lots of Christmas lights. For now, it was coffee with my best friends at the Apple Basket, the little boutique they owned.

I sighed contentedly. Christmas was coming, and this morning I had been allowed a glimpse of heaven. Well, maybe not heaven itself, but heavenly creatures for sure.

A flash of movement from the corner of The Square caught my eye. It was over near Layne’s, the restaurant I often performed