Die Die Blackbird

“What’s up, Nora? I thought you were in there with the quilters.” Dominic spoke with a New York accent that stuck out, especially in East Texas. He walked into the Tunie one day, asking for a job. Nora and Marty were elated to find such a great front desk clerk without even putting an ad in the paper. The Tunie had been struggling in the past few years, and maybe this was a sign of success. Their hard work was paying off. He later admitted that he wanted to work at the hotel because of its historic past and the high probability of spirits wandering around. Paranormal science was his real passion, right after customer service.

“I bled on the quilt,” she answered, her eyes cast to the floor.

Dominic clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Jeez, Nora. You should never bleed on the quilt. Talk about ruining a piece of art already.” Nora noted that even a city boy knew about the unwritten law of quilting.

“It was an accident! Nobody has asked how I am doing after stabbing myself.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Well, no.”

“Then, don’t worry about it,” Dominic said, his New York accent sounding like a wise guy from a Mafia movie. “I wanted somebody to talk to anyway. Did you know that we’re about to rent a room to Jack and Daisy Foley?”

Nora had no idea who these guests were, but it was nice that Dominic did. Things had been slow around the Tunie. Their newest hire, Val, was working as their sales generator. She had spent hours contacting various groups, trying to get them to schedule events in the gloriously wooded East Texas area. Dominic knowing about these guests might mean future bookings.

“No. I didn’t. Do you know these people?”

“Only by their reputation. The Foleys are world-famous ghost hunters. I read their blog religiously. Their show, Paranormal Party, breaks records on YouTube. They’re coming to Piney Woods to try to contact Sam Houston’s ghost. They believe that old Sam had a bunch of loot that he got from some battle here. Was Houston at the Alamo?”

“I’m not sure. I never had to take Texas history. I’ll have to ask.”

“Geez Nora. You’re like me. A transplanted Texan. Don’t let the rest of these yee-haws know that. We outsiders got to stick together, capisch? Not knowing the history of Texas around here is a capital crime, if you know what I mean.”

“If you say so,” Nora answered. She might have been an outsider, but she had something that Dominic did not, and that was family in Piney Woods. Where Dominic drifted in and might drift out one day, Nora was pretty sure she was here to stay. “Where do they think they’ll find old Sam hanging around?”

“I’m hoping right here at the Tunie,” Dominic’s eyes twinkled at the thought.

“That’s impossible. They built the Tunie after Sam Houston died.”

“Sure, but there is word that Sam had a lady friend in this area. They think he came up here from time to time, if you know what I mean.” His dark eyes gleamed as he gave Nora a wink. The idea of a booty call from the afterlife was somewhere between creepy and disgusting.

“I do,” she answered, not giving Dominic a chance to elaborate.

Dominic swiveled the computer monitor around for Nora. “Take a look, just so you’re ready when they check in.” On the screen were a couple in their early forties. She had short blond hair and wore a close-fitting black t-shirt that said “Paranormal Junkie” on it. His arm rested on her shoulder, and the well-known Internet ghost hunter displayed a dazzling smile for the camera.

Nora nodded, looking impressed. “They look like they mean business.”

“The ghost business, baby. They’re going to be checking in within the hour.” Dominic looked like a kid at Christmas. Now Nora had the answer as to why he had offered to take her shift tonight. He wanted to be on hand to greet Jack and Daisy Foley, the stars of his favorite show, Paranormal Party. She should have known Dominic wasn’t all that interested in helping her be a part of a quilting group. Nora glanced at the clock.

“I guess the quilt group will be clearing out in another hour. Did you see Marcia Allman leave?”

Dominic had returned his gaze to the computer and spoke without his eyes ever leaving the screen. “The blond chick who came in late? Sure. Don’t tell me she lost blood as well. Who knew quilting could be so violent?” he said, putting his hand’s palm up on either side of his face.

“The police arrested her daughter.”

“Tough break.”

“She’s underage, and she was drinking.”

“Even tougher.” Dominic’s tone would have sounded sincere had he actually looked up from the monitor. “Did you know they did paranormal investigations at the Moundsville Penitentiary and the Trans-Alleghany Lunatic Asylum? They reported a full-body apparition at the asylum and even got it on video.” The adoration in his voice was evident. Dominic worshipped these people and their exploits with the paranormal.

A male voice boomed from behind them: “You wouldn’t have wanted to be in the room when that creepy thing showed up, I promise you.” Dominic’s head tilted back with a jolt as the man on the screen was now standing in the lobby of the hotel.

Dominic scooted around the counter and extended a hand. “Mr. Foley. What an honor to meet you.”

A woman peeked around Jack’s shoulder. “Do you actually know who we are? Even in this small community in Texas? We’re the ones who are honored.” Daisy Foley’s hair was longer now than it was in the on-screen photo, but she was still very attractive. She wore a light jacket and jeans. East Texas was gradually lumbering into late fall. This part of the country didn’t get the subzero temperatures other states did, but it was a little chilly outside.

“Know who you are? Of course, I do. Let me introduce myself. Dominic Fazio. Paranormal investigator.” Dominic took a slight bow.

“And the front desk clerk at the Tunie.” Nora reminded him.

“Yeah, that too,” Dominic said.

Nora stepped forward. “I’m Nora Alexander, one of the owners of the Tunie. Dominic tells me you’re here to try to stir up Sam Houston’s ghost.”

Jack Foley blinked in surprise. “Wow. You are fans. Yes, we are here to contact the departed spirit of Sam. We’re hoping he can give us information on the missing loot from the Battle of San Jacinto. You know it happened a few hours from here in the Houston area.”

“Not in San Antonio?” Nora asked.

“No. Not the Alamo, but the battle that came after at San Jacinto. Houston and his men were staked out across the water from Santa Anna. The Mexican colonel was living in style on his side of the lake. When Houston won that battle, there were stories that Santa Anna had a chest full of gold that his men had buried. He carried it to pay his army, among other things. Many people think the gold is at Sutherland Springs, but we’re working on a theory that Sam Houston might have brought it up here to hide.”

“Never!” Azalea Frederick said this from the banquet room door. “The honorable Sam Houston would never steal gold. He is the father of Texas.”

The ladies from the quilt group began to leave, bundles in hand.

“Even an honorable gentleman can get gold fever,” Jack answered as he rolled his luggage to the front desk.

“Don’t mess with Texas,” Grace Howe added, her arms crossed and elbows extended slightly. “You’re going to find out that means more than don’t litter around here.”

Arnette rolled Rosalyn out, who looked expectantly from Jack and Daisy to Nora. Nora stepped forward. “Grandma, these people are paranormal investigators.”

“What?” Rosalyn McArdle was confused.

Arnette leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Who you going to call?”

Rosalyn replied automatically. “Ghostbusters!”