Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man

by Bobbi Holmes

  Brian smiled. “Yes, their cinnamon rolls are famous. Is that what you’re having for dinner?”

  She laughed. “No, although I added a few to my order. I’m trying the pastrami. Cory told me they had pretty good sandwiches too.”

  Brian nodded. “They do.”

  “If you’re planning to take your food back home, we could always eat ours here, together.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but actually, I’m taking the food to a friend. I imagine the friend would be a little annoyed if I ate it before I arrived,” Brian said.

  Ginny grinned. “Oh, I understand. I figured if you were planning to eat at home alone, anyway.” She shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I haven’t met that many people in Frederickport yet. Kelly has been really nice, and the people at the museum. But frankly, Kelly is a little young, and the others at the museum…”

  “A little old?” he finished with a chuckle.

  “Yes!” She laughed. “I find local history so fascinating, but it seems all the docents are my parents’ age.”

  “I have a friend who used to docent, and she’s closer to Kelly’s age.”

  “Really? If she’s still there, I’ve never met her,” she said. “What’s her name.”

  Brian didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he said, “Heather Donovan.”

  Ginny considered the name for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “Ahh, she’s the other one kidnapped with you and Walt Marlow. I read about it in the newspaper, and of course, Kelly mentioned it. I admit the article left me curious. So much it didn’t say.”

  “Such as?” he asked.

  “Well… where exactly did they take you? The newspaper didn’t say specifically.”

  Brian told her, and she asked, “Did you discover anything interesting up there?”

  Brian frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She shrugged. “Were there any old cabins up there you could take refuge in? Maybe some caves? It all sounds so frightening.”

  “No. There were no cabins where we were. At least, none that we came across.”

  Someone from behind the counter called out Brian’s name.

  “My order’s up. It’s been nice talking to you,” Brian said as he stood.

  Brian parked in the alley behind Heather’s house. Leaving the food in his car, he walked up to the back door and knocked.

  A moment later Heather answered the door and said, “Hi. I’m almost ready, but I need to feed Harvey first. Come on in.”

  Brian followed Heather into her kitchen and asked, “Isn’t your cat’s name Bella?”

  “I was talking about my sourdough starter,” Heather said, grabbing a glass jar that had been sitting on her kitchen counter. “Almost forgot all about it. I started it on Sunday, and today’s the first day I need to feed it.” She unscrewed the jar’s lid.

  “You named your starter Harvey?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She looked at Brian; the ponytail she’d fastened on the top of her head bounced. After work, she had changed into stretch denims and a long sweater blouse. It fell below her hips. “People name their starters. I decided to name mine after the ghost of Presley House. After all, if it weren’t for poor Harvey, I probably wouldn’t have moved to Frederickport.”

  “So what does Harvey eat?” Brian asked.

  “Flour and water,” she said.

  “Sounds like a prison diet,” Brian quipped. He stood in the kitchen and watched as Heather set the jar on a small kitchen scale. After weighing it, she frowned and reached up into a cabinet and grabbed an empty jar. She set it next to the jar of sourdough starter.

  “What are you doing now?” he asked.

  “I’m supposed to throw out half of the starter to make room for what I need to add. But that seems so wasteful. So I’m going to just move half to another jar and then feed both of them. That way I’ll have two jars of starter. Sound like a good idea?”

  He shrugged.

  Not trusting Brian to spread out the blanket without kicking sand on it, Heather insisted on doing it herself while he stood nearby with the food. Instead of getting annoyed, he laughed at her and laughed again when she stuck her tongue out at him.

  When they finally sat down in the middle of the blanket, the sound of the surf behind them, Brian told Heather about his encounter with Ginny at Old Salts, as he pulled the food from the to-go sack.

  “I need to check her out.” Heather glanced up from the sandwich Brian had just handed her and smiled. “I want to see what your type is, according to Kelly.”

  “I suspect Kelly sees my type as someone much older,” Brian said while opening a bag of potato chips.

  “I’m an old soul,” Heather said.

  Brian grinned. “I suspect you are.”

  They continued to eat their sandwiches when Heather stopped eating and blurted, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, your Ginny is living with a ghost.”

  “She is not my Ginny, and what ghost?” Brian frowned.

  Heather told Brian what Danielle had told her about their visit to Ginny’s house and the ghost they had seen.

  After she described the ghost, according to Danielle’s depiction, Brian said, “It sounds like Caitlin Pavlovich.”

  “That’s Ginny’s cousin’s daughter, right?” Heather asked.

  Brian nodded. “Yes. I was on that call. It’s one time I would have preferred to have that day off. She was so young, just a senior in high school. I remember her poor mother, and Cory.”

  “The neighbor?” Heather asked.

  “Yes. Cory Jones. Bill Jones’s nephew,” Brian explained. “He’s the one who found her. I’m not sure who was more hysterical, Cory or Caitlin’s mother.”

  “Danielle said it was an overdose, but some suspect it was a suicide,” Heather said.

  “True. The final ruling was an accidental overdose, but frankly, I wondered. Considering what was in her system, I can’t understand how she took that much, not expecting it would kill her. But as I recall, the coroner at the time was a friend of Caitlin’s father, and I suspect he felt accidental death would be easier for her mother to handle than suicide.”

  Heather frowned. “Is that ethical?”

  Brian shrugged. “I suppose everyone has his own idea of ethics.”

  “Danielle is worried about Caitlin. She wants to help her move on. But she has her hands full right now, trying to figure out this other thing. Maybe I should do it?” Heather suggested.

  “You?” Brian frowned.

  “Sure. According to Eva, that’s one reason there are people like me and Danielle. Our purpose is to help guide spirits to the other side. Sometimes they need help. They get stuck, like this Caitlin.”

  “Danielle didn’t do a very good job guiding Walt to the other side,” Brian teased.

  Heather shrugged. “That’s because they had some unfulfilled destiny.”

  “Ahh… yeah, soul mates. We discussed this.”

  “I have an idea. You can take me over to Ginny’s house.”

  “What?” Brian frowned.

  “Surely you can come up with some excuse to take me over there. And when there, I can try to contact Caitlin and help her move to the other side.”

  “And what am I supposed to say to her when we show up?” he asked.

  “We don’t have to just show up. You can call ahead of time. Tell her we’re coming over.”

  “And what am I going to tell her?” Brian asked.

  “I don’t know. But you can think of something.”

  Brian arched his brows at Heather and asked, “Don’t you think that would be just a little awkward?”

  Heather considered his concerns for a moment and then smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I suspect if you know Kelly is trying to hook you up with Ginny, Ginny knows it too.”

  “That’s what I assume since Kelly mentioned she told Ginny about me,” Brian said.

  Heather let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll figure out something else.”

  “No, you forget abou
t Caitlin’s ghost. I’m sure Danielle and Walt will figure something out without dragging you over there.”

  “You aren’t the boss of me.” Heather smirked.

  Brian studied Heather, noting her defiant and stubborn expression. After a moment he said, “I have a feeling no one is the boss of you.”

  Heather’s smirk turned into a grin. “You know, there is an upside to that.”

  “How so?” Brian asked.

  “I don’t want to be the boss of you, either.” Heather smiled confidently. “So you can be you, and I can be me.”

  “You were a little bossy over that beach towel,” he teased.

  Twenty-Two

  “I’ve been thinking about when we have a baby,” Danielle announced while she refilled Walt’s cup with coffee on Wednesday morning. He sat at the kitchen table while Danielle stood over him.

  Walt smiled up at Danielle, silently noting how attractive she looked in the sundress, with her hair pulled back in a fishtail braid. “Do you have something to tell me?”

  She refilled her cup that sat across the table from Walt’s. “Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time considering how committed you are to this project.”

  Walt chuckled and asked, “So what were you thinking about?”

  Danielle walked over to the counter, set the coffeepot down, and then returned to the table and sat across from Walt.

  “We should move into my old bedroom,” Danielle told him.

  “You mean my old bedroom?” Walt teased.

  “Yeah, it was your bedroom before it was mine. It should be ours now.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I don’t like the idea of being on a different floor from the baby. Even if we keep the bassinet in our bedroom for a while, that’s only temporary. We should turn the attic room into your office. You use it as an office anyway.”

  Walt considered Danielle’s suggestion and then nodded. “I like your idea.”

  “Unless you’d rather use another room as your office and turn the attic room into a guest suite,” Danielle said.

  Walt shook his head. “As it is, I never felt that comfortable with the hidden staircase from the attic bedroom to the original master when it was a guest room. This is better, and convenient, if I want to work at night.”

  “Great, then that’s what we’ll do.” Danielle grinned.

  A knock came at the kitchen door, and the next moment Heather peeked her head in before anyone yelled for her to come in.

  “Have any coffee?” Heather asked.

  “Morning, Heather,” Walt and Danielle chimed.

  Danielle added, “Coffee’s on the counter.”

  “Thank you. I ran out and forgot to pick some up.” Heather walked to the counter. “But that’s not why I came over. Well, it’s one reason I came over, just not the only one.” She opened an overhead cabinet and removed a coffee mug. After filling it with coffee, she took it to the kitchen table and sat down.

  “What do you need?” Danielle asked.

  “First thing, do you have any empty jars?” Heather asked.

  Danielle frowned. “Um, what kind of empty jars?”

  Heather shrugged. “Like old peanut butter jars, mayonnaise jars, whatever.”

  “I usually keep a few on the top shelf of the pantry. Help yourself,” Danielle said.

  “Thanks.” Heather took a drink of her coffee.

  “What do you need jars for?” Walt asked.

  “Someplace to store my sourdough starter. I used the two jars I already had, but I’m going to need some more,” Heather said.

  “Ahh, so you’re going to try baking sourdough bread? I’ll be curious to see how it turns out,” Danielle said.

  “I’m just in the starter stage,” Heather said.

  “Starter stage?” Walt asked.

  “I’m making the starter. Lily says it takes about a week before it comes alive,” Heather said.

  “Comes alive?” Walt frowned. “Are you Dr. Frankenstein?”

  “I guess. Something like that. Lily says it’ll get all bubbly and double in size. When it does that, it’s ready to bake with. But I have a few days before I get there,” Heather said.

  “Good luck, and I want to see your first loaf,” Danielle said.

  “You don’t want to taste it?” Heather asked.

  “Let me see it first.”

  “I guess I don’t blame you,” Heather said with a shrug. “The other thing I wanted to talk to you about, Caitlin’s ghost.”

  “What about her?” Danielle asked.

  Heather recounted her conversation with Brian about the ghost haunting Ginny’s house.

  “And you want to help her move on?” Danielle asked.

  “I figure you and Walt are so busy dealing with the mountain man, you really don’t have the time. I asked Brian to take me over to her house, but it made him uncomfortable, so I won’t push him. But I realized, I can do it without his help. All I have to do is go to the museum, start up a conversation with the new docent—after all, I used to docent—and then find some excuse to get her to take me to her house.”

  “You could show an interest in vintage magazines. She has quite a collection,” Danielle suggested.

  “So you think it would be alright if I did this?” Heather asked.

  “Sure. It’s a great idea,” Danielle said. “Someone has to help that poor girl move on. And like Marie mentioned, her mother was looking forward to seeing her when she passed over. How sad to think she wasn’t there.”

  “Kinda like Walt’s folks,” Heather said.

  “They died before me,” Walt reminded her.

  “Yeah, but I bet they didn’t expect you to stick around this long,” Heather said.

  “I have things to do,” Walt said stubbornly.

  “Hey, I’m glad you stuck around,” Heather added.

  “When do you plan to see Caitlin?” Danielle asked.

  Heather glanced at the kitchen clock. “Well, I need to get to work. Not sure what days she docents. I should probably find out her schedule first. I’ll call down to the museum at lunch today and take it from there.”

  “I’ll be curious to find out how it works out,” Danielle said.

  “What are you doing with your ghost problem?” Heather asked. “Still going to Astoria today?”

  “Yes. We’re starting at the cemetery,” Walt said. “Yesterday, Danielle discovered Teddy’s second wife died just months after their marriage.”

  Heather cringed. “He sounds like the male version of the black widow. How did she die?”

  “The obituary didn’t say, but it listed the cemetery. We figure we’d start there. It’s always possible there’s some gossipy ghost who hasn’t moved on, yet knows all the scandals of those interned,” Danielle said.

  Because of the overcast weather, they took Danielle’s Ford Flex to Astoria instead of Walt’s Packard. Walt drove, something he did when they were together. Danielle didn’t miss driving and rather enjoyed having her own chauffeur. Walt, being a man born in the late 1800s, never felt completely comfortable with a woman behind the wheel. He wasn’t proud of this and intellectually understood there was no merit to his feelings, but he chose not to share it with Danielle and was grateful she seemed to prefer him behind the wheel. Had driving been important to her, he told himself he would deal with his irrational discomfort, but he was grateful he didn’t have to deal with that emotion now.

  Danielle sat in the passenger seat, looking at her smartphone, using it to find the location of the cemetery mentioned in Josephine Newsome’s obituary. Walt drove right to it, with Danielle’s help, and parked out front.

  When he turned off the ignition, he looked toward the cemetery and asked, “Did that obituary say where her grave is located?”

  “No.” Danielle unfastened her seatbelt.

  Minutes later Danielle and Walt wandered through the cemetery, looking for Josephine’s grave.

  “There was a time this was the last place I’d want to be
,” Danielle said, taking in her surroundings.

  “Yes, I remember. What happened?” Walt asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “Since moving to Frederickport, meeting you, I’ve become more comfortable with my gift and with encountering spirits.”

  “I wonder if we’ll find a spirit today who can help us.”

  “We should probably go to the office, see if it’s open. I assume there’s an office here,” Danielle said as she walked alongside Walt.

  “Why?” he asked with a frown.

  “They might tell us where the grave is located. I imagine there’s some sort of directory to help us find it.”

  “We don’t need to do that. We’ll find it,” Walt insisted.

  Danielle stopped walking and laughed.

  Walt stopped, turned, looked at his wife and asked, “What is funny?”

  “That is such a guy thing, not wanting to ask for directions,” she teased.

  “That’s rather a sexist thing to say,” Walt said indignantly.

  “Sexist? That coming from the guy who has to do all the driving?” Danielle snickered.

  “I do all the driving because you don’t like to,” Walt insisted.

  “So you are just being a nice guy?” Danielle asked.

  “I’m not a nice guy?”

  Danielle gave Walt a grin, stepped closer to him, and then reached up and gave him a quick kiss. “You are an amazing guy. But I suspect my driving makes you nervous. And I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m a woman.”

  Walt stared into Danielle’s eyes a few moments and then asked, “You knew?”

  Danielle shrugged. “I was pretty certain. No one likes to drive as much as you say you do. Well, maybe some do, but I just don’t get it. And you seem pretty comfortable when Ian drives. You haven’t driven with me enough to know if I’m a crappy driver or not. So I have to assume it’s because I’m a woman.”

  “Are you annoyed at me?” Walt asked.

  “Don’t be silly. After all, I’m not without sin,” she chirped, taking his hand and leading him down the path.

  “How so?” Walt asked.

  “I’ve exploited your sexism for my own selfish purpose.” She snickered. “I have my own chauffeur!”