Michael Devaney - The Elisha Pool

“What’s that?” Finn asked.

“No artifact is ever allowed to be removed from this premise. Ever. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh,” they both replied in harmony.

“Good. Now come with me and we’ll go through the entire process.”

It was just after dusk when Thomas Marvel IV boarded a small canoe and poled his way across a narrow slough surrounding his antebellum home. Situated in the middle of a private, sixty-acre island off the coast of Savannah, Georgia the former rice plantation was surrounded on all sides by tangled mats of Spanish moss suspending down from mammoth-sized Live Oak trees like Marionette strings from a Puppeteer’s fingers.

Aided only by a single oil lantern, the dark hooded figure carefully navigated an already thick evening fog to reach a virtually hidden wooden dock attached to the mainland. This solo ferrying ritual occurs every evening. It is the beginning leg of Mr. Marvel’s nightly travels to reach the city where he entertains Savannah’s more adventurous visiting tourists for his livelihood.

It was completely dark when he reached the opposite bank. After exiting the canoe, he quickly tied the canoe’s bow rope to the dock’s end post then extinguished the lantern. Before leaving the dock, he reached behind his head to snug the shoelace knot attached to a black, homemade mask held in place by leather straps draped over both ears. Next, he produced a pair of round, blue-tinted eyeglasses and pushed them onto his face. He carefully adjusted the front of the mask so that it completely covered his face. That done, he tugged on a pair of black, fitted gloves and secured his full-length robe at the waist then pulled the hood all the way forward to further obscure his face. His visage resembled a cross between Gandalf and Doctor Doom.

From the dock, he had a half mile, uphill hike along a narrow trail that snaked its way through a heavily wooded area on the outskirts of town. The trail dead ended only a few blocks from the city streets.

A look at his business card reads— Thom Marvel’s Paranormal Ghost Tours —printed in creepy blood-red horror script letters. As sole proprietor, Thom (pronounced Tom), is literally a one-man show. Playing the role of both host and ghost, he first tickles the tourist’s ears with chilling tales of the macabre then brings the tales to life by acting out the part of the ghost to the unsuspecting audience. Other than being a gifted storyteller, Mr. Marvel has two unique talents; he is completely invisible and he can move objects with his mind, both of which comes in handy as a convincing ghost tour guide.

Finn was eating lunch at Boston’s world famous Gizmo’s deli — a Pastrami on rye with chips and a dill pickle spear — and watching the news when a special interest segment caught his attention. According to numerous reports from locals and visiting patrons dating back more than a year, the city of Savannah, Georgia had seen a drastic increase in ghost activity involving several of its prominent, historically documented haunted locations. Whether to add fluff to the story or not it was also noted as an added coincidence that bodies from the city morgue had also began going missing during the same time frame.

That’s weird. His police background sent bells off in his head to remind him there was no such thing as coincidence.

Just then Andria slid into the seat across from him, grabbed a chip and grinned. “How’s it going, partner?”

“Have you seen this?” Finn asked, pointing up to the television screen.

“Seen what?” she said, turning toward the television.

“There’s a hot story coming out of Savannah claiming a recent uptick in paranormal activity around the city coinciding with missing bodies from the morgue.”

“Savannah, Georgia?”

“Yes.”

“Really,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Like Ghostbusters stuff?”

“No, like real stuff. People don’t just go missing from a morgue for no reason.”

“True.”

There was a short pause while they watched the end of the segment. When it was over they locked eyes.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Finn asked.

“If you’re thinking about a Powers Group sponsored field trip to Savannah, then yes.”

Finn nodded his head. “And here I was hoping for at least a week’s break to rest after sewing up the Elisha Pool case.”

“Haven’t you heard? There’s no rest for the weary,” Andria said. “Especially for agents. There’s always another case to solve. And this one looks like it might be a double dose of Hide and Seek .”

Michael Devaney was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1967. Educated at Mercer University, he earned a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration. Later studies at Kennesaw State University garnered him a Creative Writing certificate. His previous novels include, The Inheritance: Chain Letter of the Arts and Death Mask . An outdoor enthusiast, his articles have been published in North American Whitetail magazine and Great Deer Tales and as Staff Writer for the Dark Knight News he’s published numerous reviews for Batman related comics. When not writing, Michael enjoys reading, movies and leisure travel with his family. He and wife, Beverly, have two children; son, Owen, here on earth and daughter, Emaleigh, up in heaven.

Please help cure childhood cancer.

Michael can be found online at:

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Twitter — https://twitter.com/MLDevaney23

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