CHAPTER FOUR

"This is strange as fuck," muttered Miller. "Everyone here has something that's missing from their home, office, porch, somewhere. Yet we didn't see a damn thing on the cameras. Whatever this is, it approaches the objects, and then they're gone. Is it possible that someone stole some stealth netting, or one of our own kids is doing this?"

"That doesn't seem feasible. The kids know better than to screw around with the equipment. A magician?" asked Angel.

"It's not a bad suggestion," said Nine, "but why take scraps of cloth, a coffee mug? And why would a magician come out here?"

"A coffee mug full of hot, delicious coffee," frowned Ghost. The others all grinned at him, shaking their heads.

"It's a fair point, though," said Gaspar. "A human, who is a magician, wouldn't need all these random objects. If they were going to steal, they'd go to the Garden District or mansions on the lake."

There was a soft knock on the door, and Victoria entered the room with Archie and Charity.

"Good morning. Sorry if we're disturbing you," she smiled.

"Nonsense," grinned Bull. "A beautiful young woman is always welcome among these animals. I should say, two beautiful young women."

"I should remind you, Bull, that I am at least a hundred years older than you," grinned Charity.

"Semantics," he smiled.

"Before we get to whatever it is you came here for, how are you doing with Mo and Ophelia?" asked Gaspar.

"Oh," smiled Victoria. "It's amazing. They're absolutely the best, and they're both so cool. They thought they weren't very smart, but they are! They're both just brilliant in their own ways, and they're really good parents. I love them. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to have a normal home."

"That's what we like to hear," said Nine. "What about you two? Archie? Charity? All good?"

"We're perfect," smiled the young woman. "I feel a bit like I'm in a fairy tale most days, but it's a beautiful fairy tale with no dragons or wicked stepmothers. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm going to soak it up until there is nothing left."

"Good for you," grinned Ian. "So, what is it we can do for the three of you?"

"Actually, it's what we might be able to do for you. Or I should say what they can do for you," said Victoria. "I've been fascinated with the high number of ghosts at Belle Fleur and, in fact, all over the property. There is an alarmingly high energy that is not visible to the eye when this many ghosts are present."

"Okay. That's fascinating," said Ghost, nodding at the threesome. He had no clue what she was talking about, but he was good at pretending.

"It is fascinating, Mr. Ghost, but it's also important. It can be measured, and I've been measuring it along with Monroe and some of the others for a while now. Two weeks ago, we started seeing a very strange spike in the energies that were being expelled."

"Spike? Like more ghosts?" asked Antoine.

"No. One ghost. One very odd but maybe powerful ghost. I'm not sure," said Victoria. "Archie and Charity have some answers."

"We're all ears," said Whiskey.

"We don't think this spirit knows that it's dead," said Archie. "A few weeks ago, we encountered a spirit out on Devil's Island. He was speaking to himself and arranging some items. When we approached, he froze as if frightened by us."

"What did you say?" asked Ian.

"I told him that we were the same," said Archie. "I had no idea that he didn't know he was dead. He stared at me, shaking his head, and kept repeating, ‘it's impossible, it's impossible.' He ran toward the other end of the island and then we couldn't see him."

"Couldn't see him?" repeated Miller. "How is that possible?"

"He is considered liminal. The state between life and death," said Victoria. "Many indigenous tribes believe that death is not the end. You don't just go away. You continue to make decisions about life and the world from this in-between state."

"So, wait. Is this guy making decisions about something or someone? What's his story?" asked Jean.

"We're not sure," said Archie. "We would like for a few of you to go with us to Devil's Island and try to get him to appear to us again. He's very good at hiding."

"Why now? Why did he suddenly appear?" asked Nine.

"That's what we're not certain of," said Victoria. "He could have unfinished business, or he could need something and not know how to tell us."

"So, you're proposing that a few of us go out there with you three?" asked Gaspar.

"Yes. Not all of you. I think it might frighten him."

"Okay," nodded Gaspar. "Jesus, we've become ghost hunters." The others laughed, nodding.

"Alright, who's going out to Devil's Island?" asked Ian.

"I'll go," said Trak. They all stared at him as he stood, standing beside young Victoria.

"Me too," said Angel.

"Me three," smirked Cruz.

"That should be enough. Be careful. We'll be waiting in the boats while you figure this out."

He stacked his items carefully beneath his makeshift shelter. He needed to be sure that they didn't get wet or that they weren't stolen by the strange people he'd met the other day. This island was his. He found it.

Or did he? He couldn't remember how he'd actually gotten to the island. It felt as though he'd woken up one morning, and this was his home. He sometimes would find himself in other parts of the property with all the strange people around him, but it seemed they completely ignored him. He was fine with that. He ignored them as well.

He set the stacks of cloth remnants on the bench he'd made from wood and twine. At least, he thought he'd made it. He'd enjoyed the hot coffee that the woman had set on the porch for him. He thanked her, but she just turned and walked away.

Maybe he needed to shower? Or formally introduce himself. Hearing the sounds of the boats approaching the property, he began walking toward the beautiful docks that had been installed. They were coming onto his island. This was his.

Trying to remain calm, he approached them and began yelling at the young man and woman. The others didn't seem to even see him.

"He's here," said the man to the others.

"Of course, I'm here. This is my island! Leave!" demanded the spirit.

"Sir, we mean you no harm," said Archie. "We only want to talk to you about why you're here."

"So, you're finally gonna speak to me like I'm a human being. Well, I don't like you, and I don't need people. Get off my island!"

"Archie, what's going on?" asked Cruz.

"He can see us, and we can see him. But I don't think he's recognized what he is, which is why you can't see him."

"What the hell are you talking about?" frowned the ghost. "Tell them to talk to me directly. I'm right here!"

"Sir, do you know where you are?" asked Charity.

"I'm on my island. Now, get off."

"Sir, do you know what state you're in?" asked Archie.

"State? N-no. But it doesn't matter."

"Sir, listen to me," said Archie. "Will you do me the kindness of reaching for my hand?"

The cranky ghost reached out for his hand and fell backwards as his hand passed through Archie's. Suddenly, the others could see him.

"Damn, he is here," said Angel.

"Of course I am! You walked right by me the other day. Fool ignored me like you were better than me or something."

"Archie, what's going on?" asked Trak.

"I think once we touched, he became visible to all of you. But I don't think he knows that he's dead."

"Dead? What the hell are you talking about?" The poor man looked panicked, but also as if he might actually believe the men.

"You are dead, sir," said Cruz.

The man gave a fierce expression and moved toward Cruz with his fist doubled. He swung at the man, his arm fading into a mist and then reappearing as it passed through his massive body.

"Wh-what did you do? Are you some sort of magician?"

"No, sir. I am not. I'm afraid my friend is correct. You're a ghost, but I don't think you knew that which is why we couldn't see you before."

"A ghost," he whispered.

"Archie, why couldn't he touch me? You all can touch me or any of us now. What's going on that he can't touch anyone," said Cruz.

"I'm not sure, sir. This is new for me too, but it might have something to do with what state he's in as a ghost. Or, it could have something to do with him not understanding what he is now."

"I'm a ghost," said the man again, looking up at all the people in front of him.

"Yes, sir," said Charity, giving a smile.

"Damn. I'm dead."