Ghosts of Coronado Bay by J. G. Faherty Page A

all but impossible to hear anything except the sounds she’d trained herself to distinguish from the racket: the ding of the kitchen bell, the words “Waitress!” or “Miss!” shouted by a customer.
    “Maya!”
    Or her name being called.
    She glanced at her mother, saw her waving frantically.
    A small hole opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow her from the inside out. The look on her mother’s face indicated the news wouldn’t be good. Which could only mean one thing.
    Please. Not tonight. Please. If there’s a God in heaven...
    “Was that who I think it was?” Maya asked, as her mother hung up the phone behind the register.
    “I’m sorry, Maya. Annabelle...”
    “Isn’t coming in, right? What, she’s sick, too?”
    Emily Blair shook her head. “No, she had a car accident. She’s all right, but the doctor said she has to stay home tonight, just to be sure.”
    It’s not fair! Maya wanted to shout it out loud, but she knew how it would sound. Petulant. Selfish. Typical teen-age reaction. So she clamped her mouth shut. But her face must have given her away because her mother immediately said something.
    “I know that look. Did you have plans tonight?”
    ‘Plans’ was her mother’s way of asking if she had a date. “Kind of, yeah. We’re supposed to meet at the Lanes.”
    “Well, just call him and say you’ll be a couple of hours late. Problem solved.” Before Maya could respond, her mother zipped out from behind the counter to seat an elderly couple who’d just come in.
    Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If only it were
     that easy. Too bad there’s no cellular service for the dead.
    Ding! “Order up! Maya, let’s go. Get a move on!”
    Fists clenched, Maya opened her eyes and got back to work.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Gavin Hamlin stepped out of the shadows, a nasty, mean expression on his face, just as Blake entered the museum’s main foyer.
    “Where you going, lad?” As he spoke, four of his men entered the room and made a rough circle around Blake.
    Caught off guard by their appearance, Blake stammered a reply. “I, um, was just heading outside to walk the beach. It...it helps me think.”
    “Sounds like a bucket of manure to me. I heard tell you were out and about with a human today. Might be that you’re heading off to see her again?”
    Someone saw us! Blake’s mind raced. There was no sense in lying, but at the same time, he had to protect Maya’s identity if he could. Best to put on a show of force and maybe take Hamlin’s mind off Maya. If it meant some physical punishment, so be it. Better him than her.
    “You don’t own me, Hamlin. I can go where I want.”
    Gavin moved closer, his hands balled into fists. Sparks arced from his clenched fingers, creating miniature fireworks in the dim light. “That’s where you’re wrong, lad. I do own you, until such a time as you can show me otherwise. Now, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’d better have an answer. How were you and the girl able to talk to each other?”
    Something rose up inside Blake, the old anger he’d inherited from his mother, along with her hatred for the entire Hamlin clan and what they’d stood for.
    “Piss off.”
    Without warning, Hamlin’s left fist flashed forward, striking Blake square in the stomach. Flashes of lightning exploded where incorporeal substances met, and Blake doubled over with a cry of pain. Hamlin swiftly followed with another punch, a right hand to Blake’s jaw that knocked him sideways while more bursts of light lit up the room.
    Blake looked up at Hamlin. “I’m not telling you a damn thing.” Each word sent arrows of pain through his cheek and guts, but he refused to let it show.
    The tall, dark-haired young man laughed - an evil sound that made Blake cringe. “That’s too bad for you, but good for me. I can do this all night, or until you talk, whichever comes first. Hold him down, boys.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    For the next fifteen minutes, anyone