Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man

by Bobbi Holmes

  “While she might know more about what happened that day, I doubt she knows what happened to Teddy. I wish those old newspapers would get to the museum. It’s supposed to be another week. If Teddy was from Frederickport, there may be something in those old papers that might tell us what happened to him. I’ve hit a block wall in my online research,” Danielle said.

  “Oh, about those newspapers,” Heather said. “According to what Ginny told me this afternoon, it looks like the newspapers are going to get there sooner than they first said, perhaps a day or so.”

  “I would assume some old police records might shed a light on what happened to Teddy,” Ian suggested. “If he pushed his wife down the stairs, I would imagine they arrested him. There has to be something about it.”

  “I’ll talk to the chief tomorrow,” Danielle said. “He might know where we should look.”

  Connor, who had been playing on the floor with Sadie, began to fuss.

  Lily stood up. “We should probably get Connor home. Time for his bath.”

  Ian carried Connor as he and Lily walked back to their house, Sadie by their side. As they crossed the street, Lily asked, “What do you think’s going on between Brian and Heather?”

  Ian chuckled. “I was wondering the same thing.”

  “They are such an unlikely pair,” Lily said. “But now that I think about it, they are a perfect match.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ian asked as they headed up the walk to their front door.

  “Heather irritated the heck out of me when we first met. But she did save my life. And I certainly wasn’t a fan of Brian when I first moved to Frederickport. So maybe they are perfect for each other.”

  Ian chuckled and unlocked the door. Sadie ran in first, followed by Lily and then Ian and Connor. “You’re talking like they’re a couple.”

  “I’m just saying, if they are, it sort of makes sense. Considering how I used to feel about them.”

  “Heather still irritates you,” Ian reminded her when he shut the door behind them.

  “True. But I like her now. Anyway, she’s awful good with Connor, and he adores her. Kinda hard not to like someone who is good to your kid.”

  Twenty-Six

  Because of Heather’s harrowing encounter at Ginny’s house, Chris gave her Thursday morning off and told her to sleep in. She intended to take Chris up on his offer, but Bella had other ideas. Heather woke to the weight of Bella sitting on her chest, along with the sound of purring and the tickling sensation of loose cat hair floating by her nostrils.

  Begrudgingly, Heather opened her eyes and stared into Bella’s face. The cat didn’t look remorseful for having intruded on its human’s sleep. The cat looked annoyed despite the loud purring.

  “Seriously, Bella?” Heather grumbled as she nudged the cat off her body and sat up. She glanced at the clock. In fairness to the cat, it was past Bella’s breakfast hour.

  Thirty minutes later Heather sat in her kitchen, drinking a cup of hot tea. She still hadn’t bought coffee, but since she preferred tea, the purchase didn’t seem urgent. Heather glanced down at Bella, who sat by her empty breakfast bowl, grooming herself.

  “Well, at least you’re happy now,” Heather said, taking another sip of her tea. As she sat alone at the table, Heather considered yesterday’s events and how she had raced out of Ginny’s house with barely a word, leaving the room in shambles and Ginny vulnerable to the lingering spirit.

  “I really need to find Marie or Eva and have one of them deal with Caitlin. That girl needs to move on,” Heather said aloud.

  Heather didn’t just feel guilty about leaving Ginny alone with an agitated spirit, she felt guilty for running out of Ginny’s house with little or no explanation, leaving the study in shambles.

  I need to go apologize; Heather told herself. But then she remembered Caitlin’s spirit. I’ll stay outside on the front porch. Chances are, I won’t run into Caitlin there, and how much damage can she do on the front porch? Heather thought.

  Another thirty minutes later, Heather was dressed and on her way to Ginny’s. But as she neared the house, she began having second thoughts. When she finally reached the house, Heather took a deep breath and pulled up into the driveway and parked, not getting immediately out of the car.

  Heather sat there a moment, not yet turning off the ignition, when a knock at the driver’s side window made her jump. She turned to see who was there. She came face-to-face with Cory Jones. Hesitantly, she rolled down the window.

  “Ginny isn’t here. She’s at the museum,” Cory told her. “You really shouldn’t be here. Caitlin wouldn’t like it.”

  Heather was about to ask Cory if he had seen Caitlin when motion from the house caught her attention. She looked and saw the ghost standing in the window, staring at her.

  “Okay, I am out of here,” Heather said abruptly. Putting her car in reverse, she stepped on the gas and backed out to the street, leaving Cory standing in the driveway, watching her, while Caitlin remained in Ginny’s house, staring out the window.

  Heather didn’t go directly to work. She had a few hours before Chris expected her to show up, and she still wanted to talk to Ginny. She decided to go to the museum to see her. It would actually be better to see Ginny on neutral territory where an unruly spirit couldn’t intrude. Heather would soon discover she had miscalculated.

  With a spray bottle of glass cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other, Ginny wiped down one of the glass display cases in the gift shop. It was typically slow on Thursday mornings at the museum. Visitors didn’t start trickling in until around eleven. Millie would be coming in then to watch the gift shop while Ginny greeted the visitors.

  As she wiped down the cabinet, her mind considered yesterday’s troubling events. She still did not understand what had happened, yet the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced Heather had caused the damage, but why?

  Just as she asked herself that question, the bell to the front door rang, signifying a visitor had just entered the museum. Setting the rag and bottle of window cleaner down on the counter, she left to greet the visitor but stopped in her tracks when she saw who it was, Heather Donovan.

  “Hello, Ginny,” Heather greeted her. “I wanted to talk to you. Heard you were here.”

  “What do you mean you heard I was here? Who told you that?” Ginny looked warily at Heather.

  “I… I stopped by your house and your neighbor Cory told me.”

  “I suppose I need to have a talk with Cory about minding his own business. My vintage magazines are all ruined.”

  “I’m really sorry about that, but it wasn’t my fault,” Heather said.

  “And whose fault was it?” Ginny snapped. “I doubt the bookshelf just fell over by itself. What were you doing in there?”

  “I came over here to see if you were okay, but I certainly didn’t expect to be blamed for your bookshelf almost killing me! I hurt my ankle!”

  “So that’s what this is; you come into my home, knock over my bookshelf, and then sue me for damages? I’ve heard about people like you!” Feeling the anger surging up, Ginny turned from Heather and marched back into the museum gift shop.

  Heather started to leave when the space between her and Ginny swirled like a gray mist. Briefly, Heather imagined Eva was making an entrance, but the next moment it was not Eva who appeared, but Caitlin. Just as recognition dawned for Heather, Caitlin picked up the donation box sitting in the doorway leading to the gift shop and hurled it in Ginny’s direction. It barely missed her.

  Ginny, whose back was to Heather and Caitlin, hadn’t seen the donation box flying her way, yet turned abruptly when it landed a few feet from her. She stared accusingly into Heather’s face.

  “Oh, my gawd, you are crazy!” Ginny shrieked. Speechless, Heather watched as Ginny looked around in a panic and then grabbed something off the counter—one of the large paperweights the museum sold.

  Heather’s eyes widened when Ginny looked as if she was preparing to h
url the heavy object in her direction. While Caitlin might not hurt one of them with her antics, Heather was fairly certain if Ginny hit her with that paperweight, it would do actual damage.

  “Are you going to throw that at me?” Heather asked incredulously.

  “If I have to! You get out of here! I’m calling the police!” Ginny yelled as she ran from the gift shop, back into the lobby, and down the main exhibit hall toward the office. To Heather’s horror, Caitlin followed Ginny, snatching objects from the various exhibits and hurling them after the terrified woman.

  From Ginny’s perspective, Heather threw the objects at her. Heather groaned, unsure what she should do now, and regretting coming to the museum. Warily, she made her way through the exhibit area and found Caitlin camped outside the now closed office door of the museum. For whatever reason, Caitlin had not followed Ginny into the office. The spirit sat by the closed door and looked up at Heather, a smirk on her face.

  Heather attempted reasoning with the spirit, yet Caitlin just stared. By the ghost’s expression, Heather didn’t know if the spirit was ignoring her or couldn’t hear what she was saying. Heather didn’t want to shout, for fear of Ginny hearing her, and the ghost was some distance away.

  “What the hell,” a male’s voice shouted from the archway leading from the main exhibit area to the entry. Heather turned and found herself facing Brian Henderson, his right hand on his gun.

  “You aren’t going to shoot me, are you?” she asked dryly.

  “What the hell is going on?” Brian’s hand was no longer touching his holstered gun as he walked towards Heather and glanced around. It looked like a war zone with parts of the exhibits strewn across the floor leading to the office.

  “I assume you’re the one responding to Ginny’s call?” Heather asked.

  “I was just driving by when I got it. They said you were here attacking Ginny.”

  Heather frowned. “They told you that, and you came in here with your hand on your gun? You were going to shoot me!”

  “No… but…”

  “Oh, please. I should smack you, but you would shoot me,” Heather scoffed.

  “What happened?” Brian asked, now standing by Heather’s side.

  Heather turned toward Caitlin and pointed. “She happened.”

  “She? Who?” Brian frowned.

  “Oh, stupid me went over to Ginny’s to check on her, and when Cory told me where she was, well, stupid me came here. But Caitlin saw me when I stopped by Ginny’s, and she followed me. And for some reason, she’s throwing stuff at Ginny. But Eva is right, a ghost really can’t do damage.”

  “Are you saying Caitlin’s ghost was here?” Brian asked.

  “Not was, but is. She’s right there, sitting in front of the office door.”

  Brian glanced around. “And she threw all this stuff at Ginny?”

  “Well, I sure as hell didn’t throw it,” Heather snapped.

  “Why do you think a ghost can’t hurt someone?” Brian asked.

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Ginny’s in the office unscathed. Just shaken up. Nothing hit her. Heck, she was so unglued she ran through the museum to the office. Had it been me, I would have run out the front door or used the phone in the gift store and dialed 911. But since Caitlin couldn’t really hurt her, I suppose she was lucky.”

  “Maybe Caitlin has poor aim,” Brian suggested.

  Crossing her arms stubbornly across her chest, Heather glared briefly at Brian and then looked at Caitlin.

  “Hey, Caitlin,” Heather called out, speaking louder than she had when trying to talk to her earlier. “I bet you can’t hit me with one of those books.” She nodded at a stack of books on a nearby table.

  The next moment a book flew off the table in Heather’s direction. Just before it hit her, the book veered to the right and landed on the floor without hitting her or Brian.

  “Holy crap!” Brian cried.

  “See. I told you,” Heather said.

  “We have to get Caitlin out of here,” Brian said. “Ginny can’t stay locked in the office forever.”

  Heather stepped aside and gave a little wave in Caitlin’s direction. “Have at it. She’s all yours.”

  “I can’t even see her,” Brian snapped.

  Heather shrugged. “Welcome to my world.”

  “No. Not welcome to your world. You can see her.”

  “But you know she’s there,” Heather reminded him.

  Brian groaned, and then his phone rang. He looked at it before answering.

  “Yes, I’m at the museum. No, I don’t need any backup. Heather Donovan?… Have the chief call me… Yes, the chief.” Brian hung up.

  Heather let out a sigh. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Brian grumbled.

  “I’m going now,” Caitlin announced. “You stay away from us; do you hear me? I know you’re trying to find the treasure, but it’s not yours.” The next moment she vanished.

  “She’s gone,” Heather announced.

  “Are you sure?” Brian asked.

  Heather shrugged. “Pretty sure.”

  “I suppose we should tell Ginny she can come out of the office. But…” Brian groaned.

  “First, let’s clean up this mess,” Heather said as she picked up the book Caitlin had hurled at her. Since Brian didn’t know where the items on the floor belonged, he watched as Heather hurried around the room, picking up what Caitlin had attempted to weaponize and returning them to their places. Fortunately, the spirit had hurled sturdy items, and nothing had broken.

  By the time Heather finished putting the museum back in order, she was out of breath and said, “Dang, it took me a lot longer to put everything back than it did that crazy ghost to throw it.”

  “Now can we tell Ginny she can come out?”

  Heather considered the question and then said, “Wait, the donation box!” The next moment, Heather ran to the museum store, picked up the donation box, and set it in the front entry. She returned to Brian.

  “Okay, I put everything back,” Heather told him.

  “You should leave before I have her come out,” Brian said.

  “Okay, but why?” Heather asked.

  “You get out of here, and it will be her word against yours,” Brian said.

  Heather flashed Brian a grin, gave him a quick kiss, and then dashed from the museum.

  Twenty-Seven

  Brian stood at the door to the museum office and glanced back down the exhibit area to the front entry. Fairly certain Heather had left the building, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

  “Ginny Thomas? It’s Officer Brian Henderson. You can come out.”

  He stepped back from the door, waiting and wondering what exactly he was going to say. He thought back to all those times Danielle had been put in an impossible situation and made to look guilty by no fault of her own. The incident that stood out was when Walt had thrown all Cheryl’s clothes and open makeup into her suitcase before Cheryl had disappeared. Of course, Brian had assumed Danielle had done it, which was one reason he believed she had been responsible for her cousin’s disappearance. At the time, he did not know Walt’s ghost haunted Marlow House.

  He was about to knock again when he heard the door unlock, and then it opened a few inches. Ginny peeked out.

  “It’s safe. You can come out,” Brian said.

  The door eased open, and Ginny looked around. Hesitantly, she stepped out from the office. “Did they arrest her? Is that where she is?”

  “Um… arrest who?” Brian asked, hating himself for having to play dumb.

  Frowning, Ginny marched all the way into the exhibit room and glanced around. Someone had returned the thrown items to their places. It appeared as if nothing had happened. She looked at Brian, “Heather Donovan, of course. Who cleaned this place up?”

  “I’m not really sure what happened,” Brian lied. “But there is no one here.”

  “Heather Donovan was here a minute ago. I heard you talking t
o her out here. What is going on?”

  Brian looked dumbly at Ginny, his brain racing to come up with a logical explanation. “When I arrived, Heather was here. She told me you were upset and had locked yourself in the office. Heather said something about an incident at your house yesterday when a bookcase fell over. She said you seemed to believe she was responsible for the bookshelf falling, but insists she had nothing to do with it. She told me she came here to discuss it with you. I told her to leave, and I’d talk to you.”

  “The woman attacked me!” Ginny snapped.

  “Are you injured?”

  “No. I’m not injured. Fortunately, she has lousy aim. But it wasn’t because she didn’t try!”

  “I’m sure there has been some sort of misunderstanding,” Brian suggested.

  “Misunderstanding?” Ginny shrieked, waving one hand. It still held the large paperweight she had picked up in the museum store. “What about all the things she threw at me! I’m not only outraged that she attacked me, but this is a museum; we do not throw items at a museum because we are angry!”

  “What’s that you’re waving around?” Brian asked.

  Having forgotten what she held, Ginny stopped waving her hand and looked at it a moment. Finally, she said, “It’s a paperweight. The museum sells them. I… I thought I might need to protect myself.”

  “Are you saying you were going to throw that at Heather?” Brian asked.

  Gritting her teeth and clutching the paperweight, she glared at Brian. “Only to protect myself.”

  “I’m sure you don’t need protecting from Heather,” Brian insisted. “This is just a misunderstanding.”

  She looked around the room again and back to Brian. “Did you put everything back?”

  “Um… no… I’m not sure what you mean,” Brian lied.

  “Heather threw things at me. They landed on the floor. Who picked them up?”

  “I certainly didn’t.” This time Brian didn’t lie.

  “I want to press charges against Heather Donovan,” Ginny said.