Booker sank into the couch across from me. More like flopped, really. “Where is everyone?”
“Still working houses. Well, Gwyn’s taking a long bubble bath, Brandon’s working out, but everyone else is still out.”
“I’ll update you first, then. So, local historian was able to give me a lot of names of some notable people who lived and worked here back in the day. All of which is handy, but he also told me a crazy story about how the men known for having the largest copper mine operations—known as the copper kings of this area—actually weren’t the founders of the mines. The original miners who discovered the area were two brothers, in fact, and they were doing good for themselves, even had their own company, when the copper kings moved in. The way they set up their stores and everything, they created a monopoly and drove the two brothers completely out of business. To the point they had to turn around and work for the copper kings just to survive.”
“Ooooouch. That had to be salt in a wound.”
“I’d have left the area completely, honestly, not even tried to dig myself back out. But they only worked another year here before there was a fight in a bar. The brothers versus some of the copper kings’ diehard fans, and both brothers died due to injuries from the fight. Historian told me he has no idea where they’re even buried, as they were given a pauper’s funeral.”
Such a travesty, greed having destroyed two lives. “Those poor men.”
“I’m fairly sure one of the brothers is our gang leader because the slogan for their company wasgold rides an iron horse.”
“Oh-ho. That’s very telling. Also would explain their obsession with this land, if it was stolen from them during life.”
“Right? It all fits. I might be off base, but if it’s not them, it’s someone who worked very closely alongside them.”
I sat on this new information for a moment, turning it over and over in my head. “What were the brothers’ names?”
“Joey and Jim Halfacre.”
“I’ll remember that. You got the names of their original employees?”
“I did. A partial record, at least. I figure those men are probably their gang.”
“Odds are good.” I slumped a bit more into the couch. “Ghost gangs. Still boggles the mind.”
“I’m getting all sorts of interaction on my forum post about it. It’s kinda fun, honestly, blowing people’s minds.” Booker’s expression turned sardonic. “Some fun needs to come from this migraine.”
“I do not envy you finding a way to turn it to your advantage. I only wish I could join you. Although I suppose I got an apprentice out of this.”
“Gwyn’s worth the headache,” Booker agreed lightly. “And on that note, I’m going to go type up everything I learned today before I forget something.”
“Go for it.” I picked my phone back up as if I was going to read more, but really, I kept turning the information over and over in my head. Two brothers, run out of business, then killed in a senseless bar fight, eh? Yeah, I could see how their obsession might have twisted them to the point of going demon.
Which begged the question: If therapy had existed then, I wondered how today’s ghost population would have been impacted? Food for thought. What I did know was, if their obsession was so deeply ingrained, then even Eli might have a hard time dealing with either brother.
And frankly, I wasn’t sure how much I could help her.
After a proper night’s rest and a hearty breakfast, I was ready to go again this morning. This time we weren’t headed for the town proper, but south of Black Rock along the San Francisco River. According to the local historian, there used to be a shanty town along the river there, and it had been an incredibly violent place. Murders-happened-on-the-daily kind of violence. In fact, the bar where the brothers had been murdered had been in the same area. Odds were their unmarked grave was somewhere along there, too.
If there was ever a place for many ghosts, it would be there. Hopefully we could spot our wannabe demon, as well. I’d love to lay hands on him and figure out how to deal with him before his mob did even more damage.
Brandon pointed to a pull-off area that was nothing more than a historical marker on the side of the road and a view of the river. “There?”
“There works.” I kept a sharp eye on the area. “Lots of ghosts here. Mostly friendly.”
“Mostly?”
Gwyn piped up from the back seat. “I see one or two who are either a light grey or I’m-gonna-be-sick yellow.”
What a good way to describe the color. “They’re not bad yet, but they sure are leaning in that direction.”
Brandon shared a loaded look with me. Sometimes (not often) I could work with a ghost and pull them back from the ledge. If you could work them through their obsession or grievance, you could help pass them on before they passed thatpoint of no return. Sometimes. These two were light enough in color, I might have a chance there.
In any case, no harm trying.
We piled out. Gwyn kept her messenger bag of goodies on her, Brandon had his Super Soaker and salt on him, but I kept my hands free. I only took the bag of lights in case we could convince some ghosts to pass on.
