Haunted Hollow (Vegas Chantly Mysteries Book 3)

Book summary

When eccentric realtor Winston is accused of selling a haunted house, P.I. Vegas Chantly is hired to clear his name. Armed with sharp instincts and her resourceful mother, Vegas delves into eerie disturbances and mysterious connections to other haunted properties, uncovering chilling truths in this spine-tingling mystery.

Excerpt from Haunted Hollow (Vegas Chantly Mysteries Book 3)

The gentle rhythm of a light rain pelted the thin walls of a lone sun-weathered silver Airstream camper in a camper park nestled inside the Georgia woods. The morning was chilled in wraps of gray. Fog drifted along the treetops like ghosts at play. The rain hitting on the roof made for a backdrop of sound, perfect for inducing a quiet sleep. But as the drowsy morning continued on into the hour of seven o’clock, the tranquility filled with the static sound of a man’s voice blaring from the radio.

“Good morning, Georgia. It’s seven o’clock with light rain forecasted for all day long with temperatures only reaching 50 today and we’re going to have storms tonight and tomorrow. Remember tomorrow night is Halloween so make sure to get all your boos in order and beware of all the haunted houses. You don’t want any boogers to get you. Hahahahahaha!”

A hand reached out from under the covers of the small bed at the back of the camper and clicked the radio off. Vegas pulled the covers down as her hair stood on end as if she was part of a Tesla experiment that needed the power turned down the next time.

Vegas rubbed her eyes when she heard a loud knocking coming from her door and a muffled voice that had haunted her ever since the day she was born etched its way through into her ears.

“Honey, it’s mommy! Do you have any mayonnaise?”

The yelling and knocking were insatiable as Vegas shook her head then slipped out of bed, made her way over to the door and opened it. “What in the world are you doing here now for?”

“I’m out of mayonnaise. I thought maybe you had some,” Eleanor said as she slipped inside

and closed the door behind her.

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning, mom. Couldn’t this have waited until I came to life?”

“I got a hankering for mayonnaise this morning and a girl has to feed her cravings,” stated

her mother Eleanor as she stared at her daughter’s hair bewildered as if she caught a glimpse of a kangaroo in the hallway. She wet her fingers by swiping them across her tongue then attempted to get her daughter’s hair to lay down as if she was a toddler.

“What are you doing?” asked Vegas as she ducked out of the way of her mother’s hand.

“What happened to your hair?”

“It couldn’t get to sleep last night so it went out dancing,” said Vegas as she moved away from her mother, opened up her tiny refrigerator, got out a jar of mayonnaise and handed it to her. Eleanor pulled out a stalk of celery from her purse, positioned the green stalk between her index finger and middle finger as if it was a green cigarette from the Marlboro environmental division then twisted the jar lid open. She dipped her celery into the jar of white goodness, scooped it out and took a bite.

Eleanor closed her eyes as if she had been taken to her wonderful place and let out a “Mmmm, that is so good.”

“I’m glad I could help with your craving. You’ll have to see a professional about all of your other problems though.”

Eleanor ignored her daughter’s comment and zoned in on Vegas’ troubling hair again. “You need to see my hairdresser, Olivia. She can whip that blonde mane of yours into shape. Oh, guess what?” Eleanor asked in an excited voice which startled Vegas.

“What?”

“I’m on Twitter!” Eleanor shouted as she lifted her arms in the air and her jar of mayonnaise slipped out of her hand and landed on the floor bouncing about before it rolled under the bed.

Vegas bent down, reached under the bed and retrieved the jar. “I’m glad that’s wasn’t breakable.” She raised back up. “It’s called X now instead of Twitter.”

“It’ll always be Twitter to me. I’m Fireball 739.”

“On Twitter or in life in general?”

“Both,” Eleanor said with a hearty laugh.

“Fireball l understand,” said Vegas as she put the mayonnaise jar back into the fridge. “But why 739?”

“My lucky number is 9. So, I have a 9 at the end and when you add 7 + 3 in the front you get 9 as well.”

“7 + 3 is 10.”

Eleanor seemed startled by her daughter’s revelation. “Well, not to me.”

“This may be why your recipes don’t come out right.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” announced Eleanor.

“I think you surprised me enough today with your mayonnaise addiction and your new math system.”

“You’ll like this one,” said Eleanor as she grabbed her daughter by the hand and attempted to escort her out of her camper while she gulped down the last of the celery.

“Where are we going?” asked Vegas with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“For a ride.”

“I don’t want to go for a ride.”

“It’ll only take us a couple of minutes. Then I’ll bring you straight back here so you can fix your hair.”

“But I’m still in my pajamas and I don’t have any shoes on!”

“You’ll not even have to get out of the vehicle. I’ll show it to you then bring you right back. Now come on and do what mommy says.”

“I gave you mayonnaise that fulfills my daughterly obligations for the day.”

“That’s not fulfilled until you get a husband and four or five kids.”

“Four or five kids?” asked Vegas in a state of shock. But before she could protest anymore her mother had pulled her by the hand out of her camper, down the three steps and toward the vehicle. Vegas grabbed a hold of the payphone in front of her camper and said, “Tell me where you’re taking me.”

“No. That will spoil the surprise,” said Eleanor as she pulled her daughter loose from the campground payphone and into the vehicle as they were about to go to Eleanor’s surprise place.

Eleanor backed out of the driveway full of excitement as Vegas said, “I don’t understand why I couldn’t put on my shoes.”

“So, you don’t run away.”

“You have odd parenting skills.”

Eleanor drove out of the camper park, down the short road to the interstate, turned right then headed down the highway with her right blinker on at a very fast clip as Vegas sat in the passenger seat trying to wake up and overcome the thought of having four or five kids in the future before she whispered out, “Mom, your blinker is on.”

Eleanor turned it off then whispered out softly, “Wait, did I pass it up?”

“You don’t know where we’re going?”

“I know where we’re going. I just don’t know if I passed it up yet or not.”

The inside of the SUV was quiet for a few seconds as if the tiger was deciding to let the

fawn go or not when Eleanor blurted out, “There it is! I didn’t think I had passed it up.”

Vegas’ mother turned on her right turn signal and began slowing down. Vegas was confused as her mother steered to the shoulder off the road. Then Vegas spotted a horror of horrors looking at her through the windshield.

Vegas got out slowly in the cool drizzle of rain and walked toward a large billboard perched on the edge of the woods in her bare feet as she read the words on the left-hand side.

“If you want justice and more, call Vegas and Eleanor. Vegas Chantly, P.I. Call 555-1945. (Let the phone ring at least ten times because I have to run outside to answer it.)”

Vegas looked at the large photo on the right. It was her photo, but it was her photo from her second-grade school class picture.

Her mind searched for a reason. A simple explanation of why her mother would do this. No fruit blossomed in her tree thought experiment and she whipped around to her mother and asked, “What is this?”

Eleanor smiled as if it was Christmas morning and her little girl just opened the present that she had been asking for all year. “This is your surprise. See, I thought you could get more cases by advertising so this is what I came up with.”

Vegas stood there and ran her left hand through her tangled hair. “Why did you use my second-grade picture for?”

“Because that’s my favorite picture of you.”

“But I’m a grown woman now. People are going to think that picture of me is of a little girl that I helped find or something.”

“No, they want,” Eleanor laughed. “People are smarter than you think.”

“I don’t understand why you did this. You have to take this down.”

“I can’t take it down. It’s paid up for six months.”

Vegas felt as if the Christmas present her mother had gotten her had started to eat her and her mother wasn’t going to do anything more than take a picture for posterity. “It’s going to stay up for six months?” she asked in a very troubled voice.

“You’re welcome,” said Eleanor as she lovingly hugged her daughter.

“Why is your name on it?”

“Because we’re a team.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” whispered Vegas as she looked over her mother’s shoulder and spied across the four-lane a man beside his car looking at her. Vegas was surprised as the man wrote something down before getting into a green Jaguar E-Type and sped away.

Eleanor forcibly turned her daughter back toward the most magnificent sign in advertising history.

“This day is starting off fantastic,” observed Eleanor.

“That isn’t the word I would have used.”

“I love you too,” said Eleanor as she lovingly placed the side of her head against her daughter’s shoulder while her right arm hugged her waist.

“I just don’t understand you sometimes.”

“All moms are unpredictable. It’s our way.” Eleanor pulled back from her hug and stared at her daughter as she asked, “What are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

“I’m probably going to wash my feet.”

Eleanor suddenly blurted out, “Oh, I want to show you, my costume!” Her statement startled

Vegas as she watched her mother run to the back rear passenger side door of her SUV with a slight wobble in her gallop and opened it.

“Costume?” Vegas asked as she gingerly walked on the uneven, sharp terrain toward her mother’s vehicle. “Are you going Trick-or-Treating?”

“Not technically. See I’m going to kindergarten class today.”

“Well, those are your people. Why do you have to put this on now?”

“So, you can see how cute I look in it.”

“We can do this back at my house.”

“You don’t have a house. You have a camper. There’s a big difference between the two. Besides, I have the got to do it nows, so look out world!” Eleanor shouted out with a huge laugh.

Eleanor proceeded to put on the costume as Vegas stood there and watched her then glanced back at the billboard with her second-grade picture on it and the words P.I. blazoned across it then down at her bare feet. Vegas had nowhere to turn to not see crazy.