Page 4 of Shake Your Boo Thang

That guy was like the Q of supernatural gadgets. Total nerd but very reliable.

“Look at the time. Gotta run. Important meeting,” Gerald says, sounding dodgy as hell, and then hangs up.

The slimy impression I got upon first meeting him continues to grow. I don’t trust him one bloody bit. When this case is over, I may end up handing in my notice and going freelance if I want to keep doing this. I’d rather be my own boss than continue working for someone like Gerald for very long.

Tossing my phone aside, I make myself a quick lunch of beans on toast, followed by a strong cup of tea, which I sip as I open my laptop and type up my notes from my appointment. Then I do a quick internet search on the address of the studio, but I don’t find any indicators that something bad has happened on the site in the past.

Leaning back in my chair, I finish the dregs of my tea and devise my plan for tonight. It’s time for me to see if there really are ghosts in this building or if I’m being led on a wild goose chase.

CHAPTER

TWO

Hi, y’all, and welcome back to Beau’s Boos and Beyond—aka the Southern Gentleman’s Hour of Spirit Talk. I’m your host, Beau Montgomery, and this here podcast is dedicated to the exploration of the supernatural. For all y’all who consider this a bunch of hooey, you can mosey on to the next podcast on your playlist.

Folks who’ve never had a brush with the beyond can’t quite wrap their heads around the idea of ghosts. Others don’t want to think about it because it requires them to contemplate a universal human fear—death.

It’s one thing we all have in common. Someday, life’s gonna end for each of us. But what happens next is shrouded in mystery. The idea of spirits, phantoms, and ghosts has been around for a very long time in many cultures. Yet the supernatural remains intangible to a lot of folks, something that cannot be scientifically quantified.

However, some are able to see what others cannot. Some, like yours truly, were born with what my mama calls “The Gift.” Others have had near-death experiences and have gotten close to the Veil. I don’t rightly know why this happens in such traumatic situations, but I have theories and I’ll share them with y’all another time.

On this show, I aim to give everyone a glimpse into the supernatural realm. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Now, let’s get into our first episode…

—Beau’s Boos and Beyond, Episode 1

Beau

“Good morning, luv. Did you sleep well?”

As I sit down for breakfast, I beam at Miz Edna, the charming elderly woman who runs the B&B where I’m staying.

“Slept like the dead,” I tell her with a wink, keeping an eye on the gentleman ghost I see standing in the corner with his arms crossed. He remains silent but glares at me.

Miz Edna bustles around the small dining room then heads back into the kitchen. A short time later, she returns and sets down a steaming plate of breakfast in front of me, then pours me a cup of coffee.

“I know you Yanks prefer coffee to tea in the morning,” she says with a chuckle.

I grin. “Mighty obliged, ma’am. Where I come from, we do have tea, but it’s the iced, sweet variety and more of a hot afternoon kind of beverage.”

I blink down at the mountain of food on my plate. There are two poached eggs, two sausages, sautéed mushrooms, a cooked tomato, and what looks to be baked beans, only they don’t quite look like the ones from back home.

I glance up at Miz Edna. “So, is this the famous full English breakfast I’ve heard so much about?”

She nods. “That it is. Enjoy.”

I lay my napkin in my lap and tuck in.

The food’s delicious, although it’s a bit different from what I’m used to in the morning. Apart from the eggs and sausages, that is. Then again, I’ve never been a picky eater. Lord knows, my Aunt Mabel is the queen of mystery casseroles at family reunions. You never know what kind of meat you might get in one of her offerings, but I’m always the first in line to take a bite.

The beans, I think, are what really surprises me. They’re not as sweet as the baked beans I’m used to back home and are, quite frankly, a bit bland.

Thankfully, like a good Southern boy, I came to London prepared.

I open my messenger bag and pull out my travel-sized bottle of Granny’s secret recipe hot sauce. I pour it liberally over the beans and enjoy them, now suitably doctored up, with the last of my toast.

When I finish, I lean back and stroke my stomach in satisfaction.

“Thank you very kindly for such a wonderful meal,” I tell Miz Edna when she comes back to clear the table.