I'd given Sam and Tucker the day off, since I already knew where my next step would take me. I straddled my bike, thinking about nothing but the road as I roared down the street along the cliff. I don't like moonless nights. The headlights only reveal so much, illuminating the path directly ahead. The moon lights the rest, or would, had there been a moon out. Even as I left, I swore I saw a couple shadows move by themselves before I took off.
Another thing I find unsettling is the lack of people this time of night. I'm a bit of a loner, sure, I work better by myself; but I also like feeling that if something should happen to me, that someone will find me soon, maybe get me to a hospital should I need it. I'm sure I'm alone tonight, yet I can't help but shake the feeling that I'm being followed.
Fairly soon I found a huge complex on the waterfront. The motorcycle rumbled to a halt in front of a large, grey warehouse. Putting my foot down, I gazed up at the building, the engine beneath me idling. Kickstand down, I go in. "Hello? 'Ey!" I bellowed into the darkness, whistling afterwards. Putting my hands on the poltergeist pistol, I shout "Boxy! Ya in hear?"
"Beware!" I wheel around, drawing the gun. "Oh, it's just you. "What do you want?" Asked the spectral dock worker.
Lowering my gun, I replied, "I'm just looking for Johnny 13. His girlfriend hired me to find him. Any idea where he is?"
"No, I haven't seen him for about...a week, I guess?"
"Any idea where he may be?"
"No, but I heard he had another girl before his current girlfriend by the name of Amber, Ember, something like that. They might have kept in touch."
"What's her last name?"
"Mc-something, I don't know, he never said much about her."
"Ghost or human?"
"Ghost."
"Tuck," I stated the next afternoon, "I need you to run a full diagnostic on any ghost singers named either Amber or Ember with the last initial being 'M'."
"Found it! Ember McLain. She sings nightly down at an all-ghost nightclub called The Graveyard."
"Where is it?"
"21 Sunrise Boulevard."
"You'll need this." Sam stated, presenting me with a glowing emerald amulet. "It's a charm, passed down from generation to generation in my family."
"Why do I need this?"
"It should help you get into places only ghosts can go by covering its wearer in a thin layer of ectoplasmic energy."
"So you're telling me that their bouncer won't let me in 'cause I'm human?"
"No, the human shield won't let you in 'cause your human."
I found the place no problem. Dismounting the bike, I leaned against it before deciding to go in. I reached into the left breast of my coat and pulled out a pack of coffin nails. I slid one out and placed the filter in my mouth. Lighting the tip with a match, I took a drag, allowing the intoxicating flavor of nicotine and tobacco to fill my mouth, slide down my windpipe, and coat my lungs. I inhaled a few more times before I squash it underfoot. Grabbing the amulet, I enter.
I don't like being in a place with so many ghouls and specters. I know, odd for someone in my line of work, but something about the chill. Those places are like meat lockers. Plus, all the ectoplasmic residue makes it hard for me to breathe, my breathing already aggravated by my nicotine addiction. Then there's also the fact that I've either worked for or tracked down many of these creeps, pun intended. Behind me I heard a couple of voices.
"I say we confront him now." Whispered the voice of a young girl.
"No! We tail him for now. When he comes out pf the bar, then we'll confront him." Retorted the voice of a young man. Wheeling around, I saw nothing, but a cat jumping out of a trashcan, a dead fish in its mouth.
The place is lit by black lights, with neon yellow chairs, the backs of which look like tombstones, with tabletops shaped like coffins. Sticking out of the left wall is bar also shaped like the outline of a coffin, and the waiters are dressed in black, hooded cloaks. Set into the wall off to the right is a huge bandstand, with a dance floor in front of it, artificial fog rolling across it, adding to the cemetery motif, about twenty ghosts moving to the music coming from the band onstage, the lead vocals provided by some chick in a black tank top with one strap cut off, and blue hair moving as though being blown around by some unfelt breeze. Come to think of it, it was more like the hair itself was some sort of living blue fire. ""You will remember my name!" Sang the girl as she finished the song to rave cheers. "Goodnight, folks! We love you!"
"Ember McLain?" I asked as I entered her dressing room.
"I don't give out autographs, and I don't screw groupies. That's what happened to my last boyfriend, and that didn't end too well."
"So you're saying Kitty was a groupie?"
"Look, I don't know the tramp's name, all's I know is that I walked in on Andre doing the naughty tango with her one night. That was the last I saw of them, or at least that's what I told the judge anyway." The broad said as a sly grin slid over her face.
"Who's Andre? I was talking about Johnny."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Andre was my last boyfriend. So, that's the name of Johnny's latest squeeze, eh? Kitty?"
"Yeah, and she hired me to find him, and I had a tip that you two might still keep in touch. Name's Phantom. Danny Phantom." I told her as I flashed my badge. "Cigarette?" I asked, pulling out the pack and opening it.
"Thanks." She said, pulling one out. "Got a light?" I handed her a match. "Thanks." She took a drag. "So, you're a private dick, huh? Hate to disappoint, but I ain't seen him in weeks."
"Any idea where he could be?"
"After we broke up, we fell out of touch."
"So that's a no?"
"No, it's a yes disguised as a no." She replied in a voice dripping in sarcasm. "Too right it's a no, dipstick!"
"What about friends, does he have any I can contact?"
"None that I know of."
As I walked back into the lobby, I a suspicious looking character with a grey jacket and blonde hair nearly knocked me down as he ran past me and bolted for the door. Suspecting that this guy was the same guy from the diner and that he may somehow be connected with the case, I ran after him. I chased him out the door, down the sidewalk and into an alley, where I hid behind a dumpster as he met with another ghost.
"What are you doing?" asked a familiar voice.
"I just had to see you again." Came the guy's greasy voice. "What can I say, doll? I just couldn't stay away."
"But the plan involved you laying low, Johnny! We've gotta go, somebody's coming!" Kitty said as they vanished.
Suddenly, I became aware of the air growing colder as a stale, damp smell filled the air. Tensing, I slowly placed my hand on the Poltergeist pistol, when I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. Turning around with catlike speed, I caught not one but two ghosts off guard. One was a boy in his mid-teens, with blinding white hair and sparkling green eyes, and the other was a girl a little younger than him. "Whoa, calm down. It's cool, we're not here to hurt you." The boy said as he backed away, hands in the air.
"Who are you?" I asked, Poltergeist Pistol at eye level, taking great care not to let either out of my sight.
"We're your siblings, Darryl and Danielle."
