Ghost Hunter's Daughter

by Dan Poblocki

  “The mayor. Everyone round here just calls him Reed. Except for me. He was never very nice to my mom when she was alive.” Dolly glanced at Lucas. “Did Mr. Hush say anything to you when you saw him?”

  “No. He just smiled. And sort of gestured for me to come closer. And then …” Lucas shivered, remembering the wall of water that he’d seen rushing through the woods. “I had a vision.”

  “What kind of vision?”

  “Of a flood.”

  Dolly shuddered. “He’s angry,” she whispered. Lucas and Claire were quiet. They waited for her to continue. “They say he’s trapped here. At the bottom of the reservoir.”

  Lucas thought of his dream from last night. Of the waterlogged mansion. The flooded cemetery. The open grave and the coffin that was lying at the bottom. Had Penelope sent him that information? Or had Mr. Hush himself been calling?

  “Trapped?” Claire echoed. “By what?”

  Dolly sighed. “Have you ever heard of a graveyard watch? Before she passed, my mother was obsessed with the idea.”

  “My father wrote those words in his notes,” said Claire. “But I didn’t know what they meant. What’s a graveyard watch?”

  “In olden times, people believed that the spirit of the last person buried in a graveyard remained behind, to be a kind of … protector. A guide for whomever would be the next to pass. The next to be buried. The graveyard watch would help the spirit of this next person adjust to the afterlife, and then they would move on to whatever comes later. That next spirit would take over the job of graveyard watch. Waiting for the next person to pass. To be buried. And so it would continue, on and on.”

  Claire lit up. “Mr. Hush was the last to be buried in his family’s graveyard before the dam was built. He was the graveyard watch. But no one else can be buried there since it’s underwater. He can’t pass on!”

  Dolly nodded expressionlessly. “He’s trapped. He’s frantic. And he’ll do anything to get free.”

  “Anything?” Lucas asked. “Like what?”

  “He hunts for his replacement. They say if you get too close to the water, or at least the part of the reservoir where his mansion sits at the bottom, he’ll come up and drag you down.”

  Claire let out a squeak of shock. She didn’t have to say a word; Lucas knew that she had just imagined what might have happened to her father.

  After a moment, Dolly went on. “Lots of people have drowned there and that’s a fact. It’s what happened to my mother.” She sighed, her breath coming out in ragged pieces. “They found her in the shallows at the water’s edge. She’d gotten it into her brain to explore that area. To see if she could find a way to stop Lemuel Hush. Or set him free. She believed that he was the reason people were staying away from Hush Falls Holler. That if she could do something about him, tourists would come and the motel would start making money again.”

  “How did she think she could set him free?” asked Lucas.

  “By continuing to use that graveyard. So that Mr. Hush would no longer be the last one buried there. So that he’d no longer be the graveyard watch.”

  “Do you …” Claire stammered. “D-do you think that what happened to your mother is what happened to my father?”

  Dolly sat again on the edge of her bed. It seemed to Lucas that the blond woman from the poster on the wall behind her was looking down at her pityingly. “I mean, I can’t say I haven’t thought about it. But … I really don’t know.”

  LUCAS KNEW THAT if they didn’t stay on task, their fear could overtake them and they’d become paralyzed. How easy would it be to simply call his gramma and tell her to come pick them up? “Did you notice who Mr. Holiday was talking to while he was here?” he asked Dolly. “Or maybe some of the places he visited?”

  “Or where his equipment went?” Claire added. She must have had the same idea that he did, because her brow was furrowed, and she looked suddenly determined. “His room was empty just now. Did Clementine, his assistant, take his things with her?”

  Dolly shook her head. “The police chief scooped up all the stuff that your dad had in his room and brought it to the station.”

  “That’s weird,” said Claire. “Why wouldn’t they just leave it for him? In case—” She cleared her throat. “In case he comes back?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought it was normal police procedure. Like, for evidence?”

  “But if they’re not even searching for him yet, why would they worry about evidence?” Lucas asked.

  “Is the station nearby?” Claire cut in. “Maybe we can go ask for it back? We could review whatever footage he recorded. I bet there’s a clue in there somewhere.”

  “Going to the police would be like walking into a lion’s den,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here. Remember?”

  Claire frowned. “Of course I remember.” She turned to Dolly. “But we have help now. Right, Dolly?”

  “Indeed! I know all the officers. Well, there are only two of them, but still … I know them.”

  “I doubt they’d just hand over confiscated equipment,” Lucas insisted.

  “Then we’ll have to find a way to retrieve it without them knowing.” Lucas and Claire gazed at Dolly as if she’d just spoken in another language. Steal from the police? Was this girl serious? “I watch the crime shows on TV with my grandparents,” Dolly added sheepishly. “I know how these things work.”

  “Do you really think it’s possible?” Claire asked, bending over to put on her sneakers. When she stood, she rotated her ankles, testing for pain. “To get his stuff back?”

  “Of course!”

  Lucas wished he could have a dose of her enthusiasm.

  Dolly told them to leave their things in her room, explaining that, since it was her responsibility to keep the space clean, the rest of her family rarely set foot inside. Out in the parking lot, the blue sky peeked through a wide opening in the trees overhead. The sun had moved a bit farther west, and Lucas felt like time was passing faster than ever. It must be close to noon? She led them toward the trees at the edge of the asphalt.

  “We’re going through the woods?” Lucas asked with hesitation.

  “I’m not sure when people will be coming out of the mayor’s meeting,” Dolly answered, “and I don’t want to run into them on the road. There’s a shortcut. Don’t worry. I know the way.” Then she stepped into the brush.

  Claire gave Lucas an apologetic look and followed.

  The path was dark. Branches from the smaller pines reached out as if to clutch at Lucas’s coat. Brown leaves and pine needles carpeted the forest floor. He flinched at practically every noise: the sudden flapping of wings as a startled crow took to the sky, cawing and crying out warnings to its friends; the creaking of barren branches; the sporadic falling of dead twigs from high overhead; the rustling underbrush as small critters dashed out of their way. Lucas glanced around, imagining Lemuel Hush, the graveyard watch, stomping closely behind them.

  When they came to a clearing, he stepped onto crumbling asphalt. Looking down, he realized that they were passing through what had once been another large parking lot, the tall grass having broken through the debris. Closer to the road, the remains of a low building stood. Large green letters rose up from the roofline, empty light sockets marking their centers, spelling out AMUSEMENTS. Dolly noticed his gaze and explained, “Another one of Mr. Winterson’s failed projects. There was an arcade inside. And bumper cars around front. And across the street, he had a mini-golf course filled with the coolest decorations: a pirate ship, a castle turret, and, of course, a bunch of windmills. It’s too bad he shut everything down. Now there’s really nothing to do around here. Except wandering around like this.” She winked, then waved them forward. “The station is just ahead.”

  The next lot they entered was the overgrown backyard of a boxy early-American home, dim windows lined up like dominoes. They walked through the rear of the property. More houses stood just ahead. They were nearing the center of
the town. Soon they were hiding behind an overgrown hedgerow at an intersection. On the opposite corner was a compact stone church with a small steeple, a general store that looked nearly empty, and another newish building with an entry made of darkened glass. Over the door of this newer building was a sign, Hush Falls Holler Police, its dark blue letters standing out against the blond-brick facade.

  Dolly stepped out onto the sidewalk, looking both ways. Turning back, she called, “All clear.” The three dashed across the street.

  Lucas felt totally exposed as he and Claire waited just outside the station’s entrance. Dolly was peeking through the glass, her hands up, blocking out the daylight. “The secretary, Mrs. Carmichael, is at the desk,” she told them. “She’s friends with my gram. I can distract her for a minute. Follow me into the vestibule. When I give the signal, you two head down the hall to the left of the lobby. Hide in the restroom. I’ll meet you there and we’ll go on to where they keep evidence stuff. Sound good?”

  “What’s the signal?” Lucas whispered.

  But Dolly had already opened the door.

  Inside the vestibule, he and Claire pressed themselves against the wall so that Mrs. Carmichael couldn’t see them. The problem was that they couldn’t see her either.

  “Hi there, Dolly!” came a kindly voice from just around the corner. “What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home studying?”

  “I’m on a break,” Dolly chirped back. “Since everyone’s still at that meeting, I thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

  “Well, I’m sure glad you did. It’s been a while.”

  Lucas watched as Dolly headed to the right side of the main desk. “Any update on Mr. Holiday?” she asked. He stared intently at her face, nervous that he’d miss her signal if he looked away.

  “Not that I know of. Gosh, it must be hard for you to be part of this.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Dolly

  “Oh, I’m just thinking of your poor mother. Chief Bray did say they went out to the reservoir to check the shoreline, and thankfully that man, the ghost hunter, was nowhere to be seen. There’s still hope.”

  Dolly turned to them and made her eyes wide, before facing the desk again with a smile. “Well, that sure sounds like good news to me,” she answered cheerily.

  Claire nudged Lucas gently in the ribs. “That was the signal.” They leaned forward and saw that Mrs. Carmichael’s head was turned fully away from them, then they slipped around the corner to find the hallway exactly where Dolly had said it would be.

  As they crept across the linoleum floor, Dolly’s conversation with the secretary continued. Lucas headed down the passage lit by sickly fluorescent bulbs overhead. A doorway marked Restroom appeared on the right. He and Claire snuck inside and switched on the light.

  The pale blue walls were made of cinder block. There was a single stained urinal. Beside it, a toilet stall’s flimsy-looking door was shut loosely. Lucas caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and recoiled. His face was red and smudged with dirt. It was the first time he considered how long this day had already been, and he felt himself suddenly overcome with fatigue. Claire stood close to the door, listening for Dolly. He wanted to ask her how she was feeling but didn’t want to make any noise that might bring attention to them. Instead, he leaned against the sink, holding his breath, and fought the temptation to run the faucet and clean himself up.

  But there was the sound of water running somewhere in this small room. A thin skim of liquid shimmered just under the door of the stall. It bloomed outward slowly, creeping tile by tile away from the toilet. Lucas felt his body tense just before the noise echoed softly from within the enclosed space. Tap-tap-tap. He’d almost expected it. His grandmother’s words rang in his head: They always come with a knock.

  His vision blurred. His thoughts felt like electric shocks.

  Claire’s back was to him; she hadn’t heard a thing.

  The water on the floor continued to spread. Then a ripple passed through the puddle underneath the door, as if someone standing inside the stall had shifted slightly and disturbed it.

  Lucas couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

  The silver circle on the door began to turn as someone on the other side unlocked the stall. The door swung outward sluggishly, as if time itself were at odds with Lucas’s rapid heartbeat. He watched in horror as the shadowy space inside was revealed, and a dark figure hidden there began to slide forward.

  The water spread out quickly now, almost halfway across the bathroom floor.

  But the sound …

  Tap-tap-tap.

  The sound of it grew louder—a hollow crashing. Pulsing. Crushing. From far away. But closer. Closer. The wave was barreling toward the station, and Lucas knew there was nothing he could do to escape it.

  CLAIRE WAS HESITANT to press her ear against the grimy door, but she did it anyway. From down the hall, Dolly’s voice continued to echo, her words blurry from the distance. Could she maybe hurry this up, Claire thought, then felt immediately guilty. The girl was going out of her way to help, after all.

  Another noise caught her attention. An odd groaning. Just behind her.

  Ehhh.

  Lucas stood rigid next to the sink. His throat was gurgling. His eyes looked glassy, and he stared toward the far side of the restroom where the stall door remained shut.

  Claire’s first instinct was to reach out and shake him, not because he looked so odd, but because she worried the noise he was making would alert the secretary. As soon as she touched his arm, however, she realized that something was wrong.

  He didn’t react.

  In fact, his gurgling grew louder.

  EHHH.

  “Lucas!” she whispered harshly. No answer. His eyes were fixated on something she couldn’t see. Something by the stall. If he kept this up, Mrs. Carmichael would come running. Claire stepped in front of him, but he stared right through her as if she were invisible. There was terror churning in his eyes. His mouth was an open O. Grabbing his face, she tried to force his jaw shut. But this only made the sound come out of his nose, changed it into a piercing hum. She covered his mouth and nose with her hand. But it didn’t help. In a moment, Lucas might start screaming.

  Footsteps were coming down the hallway.

  Panicked, Claire grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face the exit. The door began to swing inward. If they didn’t move, immediately, whoever this was would spot them. She grabbed him again, holding her breath, then lunged with him toward the wall. After what felt like forever, Dolly’s face appeared from around the door. She scrunched up her brow in confusion at the sight of them—Claire’s arms wrapped around Lucas’s chest from behind—but she didn’t say a word before motioning for them to follow her.

  Claire turned Lucas around. He blinked at her and then shuddered, coming back to himself. She felt her breath release from her lungs. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it.

  You okay? she mouthed to him.

  He nodded groggily.

  She wanted to grill him, to ask him what had happened, what he’d seen. But Dolly was watching them impatiently from the doorway, so Claire took his hand and led him out to the hallway, trying not to tremble. When he didn’t squeeze her hand back, she grew even more worried. He must have had another vision. A bad one. Had her mother been involved?

  Dolly brought them to the end of the hallway and into a cramped room with a murky overhead light. If this was supposed to be an evidence locker, it wasn’t very secure. There was a single wall of shelves that reached up to the ceiling, and each shelf was divided into numbered sections. Most of these sections contained boxes or accordion files, but one spot near the bottom was different.

  Claire recognized her father’s belongings and nearly shrieked with joy. There was his suitcase. And his camera bag! She almost ran over to snatch them up, but then she realized she was still holding Lucas’s cold hand. Dolly was staring at them. “What happened to you two?”
she asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Lucas answered, staring at the floor.

  “Let’s grab my dad’s things and go,” said Claire, slipping her hand out of Lucas’s loose grip. At the shelf, she zipped open both of the bags to see what was inside. “Camera. Tapes. Clothes. I think this is all of it.” She stepped back and glanced at the rest of the shelves, making sure she didn’t miss anything.

  “You saw him again,” Dolly said to Lucas. “Mr. Hush.”

  Lucas turned pale. “He’s evil,” he choked out, then shifted his gaze quickly to Claire, looking guilty. Claire didn’t have the energy to let his words sink in or wonder why he might have said them. She was sick of feeling terrified for her father. Her mother wouldn’t have sent her here if there was no hope.

  “What’s the plan, Dolly?” she asked. “How are we getting out of the station with all this stuff?”

  “I told Mrs. Carmichael I needed to use the bathroom. I’ll go on ahead and distract her again. When she’s not looking, I’ll say something like … Good golly, look at the time. That’s how you’ll know to sneak back to the vestibule.”

  Claire handed the suitcase to Lucas. She shouldered the video camera case’s strap. Then all three stepped back into the hallway.

  Once they’d made it outside to the sidewalk, Dolly rushed them around the corner of the building. “Looks like the mayor’s meeting’s over,” she whispered, nodding to an older couple strolling on the other side of the street. “I don’t think they noticed us.”

  “Should we try to make it back to the motel?” Claire asked.

  “Too far. Too many pairs of curious eyes. It’s hard to do anything around here without everyone noticing. We should head back just before sunset.”

  “But that’s hours away. And we need to watch my father’s footage now. How else will we learn where he went?” She looked to Lucas for support, but he was still lost somewhere inside his head, maybe remembering what he’d seen, or maybe seeing something new. New and worse.

  Dolly pressed her lips together and let out a soft hum. Then she snapped her fingers and said, “I’ve got it. Follow me.”