by Bobbi Holmes
“That’s why you needed the jars?” Brian asked, glancing at the sack he had handed her.
“Yeah, well,” Heather stammered, looking into the bag. Dejected, she set the sack on the kitchen table and groaned. “I am such an idiot.”
“I wouldn’t say idiot, exactly,” Brian said.
“Do you know how much flour I’ve used, and I haven’t even baked any bread yet?”
“No, how much?”
“I’ve gone through a five-pound bag already and have a second bag opened. And if I feed all the starter I have, I’m going to need more flour.” She groaned again.
Brian laughed and said, “I don’t think this is how it’s done.”
On Sunday morning Pearl hurried down her walkway toward her car, on her way to church. She had forgotten to set her alarm clock the night before and was running late. While unlocking her car, she looked over to Heather’s house and noticed Brian Henderson’s car still parked behind Heather’s house.
She shook her head at the sight and then unlocked her car door when a van came down the alley and turned into Heather’s driveway, parking behind Brian Henderson’s car. When the driver got out of the vehicle, she recognized him. It was Chris Johnson. Pearl paused a minute, looking for Hunny. Yet the pit bull was not with Chris.
“Good morning, Pearl,” Chris called out cheerfully as he made his way up to Heather’s house.
“Hey, Brian, you’re here already,” Chris said after Heather let him in the house and showed him to the kitchen. Brian sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll from Old Salts Bakery.
“Morning, Chris,” Brian said.
“He got here early,” Heather explained. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure. You have an extra cinnamon roll?” Chris asked.
“Of course,” Heather said as she went to get him a cup of coffee. “Where’s Hunny?”
“She’s staying with Ian and Lily while we’re gone today.” Chris glanced over to the counter and noticed all the jars. “Hey, what’s with all the jars?”
“Don’t ask.” Brian chuckled.
“Oh, shut up,” Heather grumbled, bringing Chris a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.
Cory parked in the alley a few doors down behind Marlow House, hoping to stay inconspicuous and then follow the Marlows from a safe distance when they left for the mountains. But so far it was like Grand Central Station around here, he thought. Some old lady just took off, and another car pulled up. He considered driving around to the front, but then the guy who had parked next door to the old lady’s house came back outside, this time with two other people.
“Oh crap,” Cory muttered, recognizing one of the people. It was Officer Brian Henderson. He slumped down in his car seat, hoping no one would notice him. The three walked over to the gate leading into the Marlows’ backyard. He watched them go through the gate; it closed behind them.
Nervous someone might come back into the alley and see him parked along the bushes, he started his engine and decided to move his car somewhere less conspicuous.
Chris had offered to drive them all to the mountains on Sunday morning in the Glandon Foundation’s van. He had intended to pull in behind Marlow House, but when he noticed Brian’s car over at Heather’s, he thought he would stop over and let them know he was there and to be ready to leave. Instead of driving over to Marlow House, he just left the car behind Heather’s, and the three of them walked over to get Walt and Danielle.
When they got into the van later that morning, preparing to drive up to the mountains, Chris asked Brian to sit up front in the passenger seat next to him. “Walt can sit in the back with Danielle, where they can get all mushy. Heather can chaperon,” Chris said as he got into the van.
“Mushy, do we get mushy, Walt?” Danielle asked as she climbed into the vehicle.
“Chris is just jealous,” Walt said as he waited for Heather to get into the van. He flashed her a smile and glanced up to Brian, who seemed reluctant to sit up front.
Twenty minutes later, the van moved down the highway heading to the mountains, Chris driving the vehicle while Brian sat in the passenger seat next to him. With the radio on, and the van size, those in the back seat could not easily hear the conversation in the front of the vehicle, and vice versa.
“Heather tells me you have accepted all this,” Chris said, glancing at Brian and then back down the highway.
“What else did she tell you?” Brian asked.
“What else is there?” Chris asked.
Brian turned to Chris. “Remember when you first moved to Frederickport?”
Chris chuckled. “And you thought I murdered Trudy.”
Brian frowned. “Trudy?”
“You knew her as Anna,” Chris said.
“And she was a ghost.”
“I didn’t make her a ghost,” Chris added.
“You know, the chief told us she went into witness protection,” Brian said.
Chris grinned, his eyes still focused on the highway. “Yeah, I know. That was when I invited everyone to go to the dude ranch, and Joe wasn’t thrilled spending a vacation with a killer.”
“Joe might have been better off if the chief had let him believe you were a killer,” Brian teased.
“No kidding,” Chris scoffed. “Absolutely worst vacation ever.”
“Like our trip to the mountains,” Brian said. “Although we hadn’t planned to go camping, and when I think about it, I would probably do it again.”
“I certainly would not want to go through our kidnapping.” Chris glanced briefly at Brian and then looked back down the highway. “Wow, we’ve both been kidnapped during our lives. Who else can say that?”
“I don’t think most people would want to,” Brian said.
“True, but you just said you’d do it over,” Chris reminded him.
Brian leaned back in his seat, attempting to stretch out his legs while he looked out the side window and watched the scenery move by. “I never would have learned the truth about Walt—and everything else. I always knew there was something going on, but I never could pin it down.”
“Yeah, witnessing things and not knowing can be confusing. But sometimes it’s worse when you know, but those around you don’t. Like with what happened between Heather and Ginny. I feel sorry for both of them,” Chris said as he glanced up in the rearview mirror. He saw Heather’s face staring at him, her expression unreadable.
They didn’t notice the car following them since leaving Frederickport. It followed behind at a discreet distance, speeding up and slowing down when necessary. And since Cory, the driver of the car, knew the general direction they headed, he didn’t feel it necessary to get too close behind the vehicle.
When the van finally reached the mountains and grew close to its ultimate destination, it made a right turn onto a dirt road. Instead of turning down the dirt road when he reached it, Cory pulled along the side of the highway and parked. Unsure what to do, Cory sat there a moment.
I can’t just pull up behind them, Cory told himself. He waited a few more minutes, trying to decide what to do.
“What are you doing just sitting here?” Caitlin asked from the passenger seat of Cory’s car. “Come on, follow them!”
Cory took a deep breath and put his car in gear. He stepped on the gas and pulled back onto the road, heading for the dirt road the van had taken. After driving for a few minutes, he came to a fork in the road.
“Should I keep straight or go right?” Cory said aloud.
“Go right,” Caitlin insisted.
Cory turned right, driving slowly down the road. He came to another turnoff, but then noticed the van had pulled off the dirt road just around the next curve. He could see a section of the van through the brush. Instead of continuing on, he turned at the fork in the road and parked his car under the limbs of the trees, obscuring it from view.
“Why did you park here?” Caitlin asked.
Cory glanced briefly Caitlin’s way and then turned off
his ignition and got out of the car.
Annoyed, Caitlin followed Cory, but when he refused to talk to her, she muttered, “I hate when you get like this!”
Instead of walking with Cory, Caitlin made her way to where she had seen the van parked. Hiding in the bushes, she watched as the van’s occupants headed down a trail. Determined, she returned to Cory to tell him where they had headed.
Thirty-Six
Danielle didn’t leave breadcrumbs as they stumbled through the forest, attempting to retrace Walt, Brian and Heather’s steps from the last time they had been on the mountain. But she didn’t want to get lost, so she snapped photos with her phone to help them retrace their steps when the time came to head back to the van.
Had Marie or Eva accompanied them, she would not have been as concerned, but the ghosts had stayed back in Frederickport, looking for Caitlin’s spirit. Eva didn’t believe the unsettled spirit had moved on. Considering the energy Caitlin had harnessed, they felt uncomfortable letting her go unchecked. Perhaps the universe saw to it she could not hurt an innocent. It didn’t mean there might not be collateral damage, which could have been the case had Ginny hurled the paperweight at Heather.
It had been almost twenty minutes since leaving the van when Heather called out, “Over here!” She hurried ahead of her friends to lead the way. “I recognize this place, around that bend. It’s where I first saw him.”
“And if he was telling the truth, it’s where he’ll be waiting,” Walt added.
They followed Heather, none of them realizing they were also being followed. When they rounded the turn, Heather let out a little yelp in surprise. Yet she should have expected to find him standing there. He had told Walt this was where he would be waiting.
“You came,” Bud said. He still wore his denims, flannel shirt and boots. Gone was the hat and beard. Without the beard Bud no longer looked like an old man.
The others caught up with Heather, with Chris and Brian to her right, and Walt and Danielle on her left. In the nearby shrubs, Cory and Caitlin watched.
“We did what you asked,” Walt told him.
Bud looked over the group. “Can you all see me?”
“No, Brian can’t.” Heather nodded to Brian.
Bud glanced to Brian and back to Heather. “I remember him. He wasn’t afraid when I shot at him.”
“Pretend bullets aren’t that scary,” Heather snarked. “Especially when you can’t see them.”
Bud smiled at Heather. “I suppose you’re right. And I’m weary of pretend bullets and being up here alone. I want to move on. I’ll take you to where Alex put me.”
“I don’t believe my father killed you, much less buried you,” Walt blurted.
Bud looked at Walt and said, “You were just a child.”
“Do you remember seeing Alex bury you?” Danielle asked.
Bud cocked his head to one side, his expression quizzical, and then said, “I would assume someone had to have buried me. It makes sense it was my killer.”
Brian frowned and said, “Can someone tell me what is going on?”
Heather reached out and patted Brian’s wrist. “Bud’s going to take us to his grave.”
Bud turned his back to the group and headed down the trail. They followed. The trail ended along a hillside. Bud pointed to a pile of small boulders pushed against the base of the hill. The boulders’ arrangement might have been placed by nature or by the intervention of man. Yet if they covered Bud’s grave, the latter was more likely.
“You’ll find me there, under those rocks,” Bud announced.
Walt looked to the pile, and his energy lifted one boulder-size rock and moved it five feet away before dropping it to the ground. Yet instead of moving another boulder, Walt asked, “When was the last time you saw Teddy?”
“Why do you want to ask me about this now?” Bud asked.
“I’ll be happy to do what you want. But we came all the way out here. The least you can do is answer a few questions,” Walt said.
“It was in the morning in Frederickport. After I spoke to Teddy, I came up here. The next morning, your father murdered me.”
“How do you know it was my father?” Walt asked.
“Because he shot me. I saw him. There, I told you. Are you still going to help me move down to Frederickport so I can be with my sister, or will you betray me like your father did?” Bud asked.
“What did you and Teddy talk about the last time you saw him?” Danielle asked.
Bud looked at Danielle. “We argued. I told him I knew about his girlfriend.”
“Can you tell us more about that?” Danielle asked.
When Bud did not respond and just stared, Danielle added, “Please?”
Bud let out a sigh and said, “Ted had started a business in Astoria, and he hired a woman to work in the office. That’s one reason Anna was always staying with Maddie, because Ted would spend days in Astoria. He told everyone he couldn’t move Maddie down there, she was too ill, and made everyone think he was doing this for her. But I found out Teddy was seeing the woman he hired. She was far more than just an employee.”
“Did you tell him you were going to tell Maddie?” Danielle asked.
“No. I told him I had already told Alex. I thought Alex had a right to know, since Anna spent so much time with Maddie. When I told Alex, he was furious. Alex claimed he was going to tell Maddie, convince her to move to Marlow House and leave Teddy. I thought it was a good idea.”
“And that would mean Teddy would lose Maddie’s inheritance,” Danielle asked.
Bud shook his head. “No. It didn’t matter at that point. There wasn’t much left. Ted had burned through Maddie’s money. But even if she had money and left him, Ted still controlled it under the terms of her parents’ will. Yet at that point there was not much left.”
Danielle frowned. “So basically, Alex taking Maddie off his hands should thrill Teddy. Free him to be with his mistress, not have to deal with an invalid wife he didn’t love.”
“Yes, if it weren’t for Ted’s uncle August. August was leaving his estate to Ted. But only because he adored Maddie. Had a thing for her, if you ask me. The old guy was sickly, ready to go any minute. I suspected Teddy planned to leave Maddie once the old man died and the inheritance was his. But if she left him before he died—and she left him because he was seeing someone else, it was a good possibility August would change his will and leave it all to Maddie. After all, Teddy was not his blood nephew. Teddy’s mother was his wife’s sister,” Bud explained.
“And if Maddie were to die first?” Walt asked.
Bud looked at Walt. “Then I guess Ted would have hit the jackpot.”
Danielle started to say something when Bud said, “No more questions. I told you everything. Please do what I asked.” He stepped back from his grave. “Keep your bargain.”
“I’ll keep my bargain,” Walt said solemnly. “Let’s see if you’re here.”
Brian felt as if he were listening to one side of a phone conversation, where you did not know what the person on the other side of the line was saying. Yet in this case, there were no phones involved, just a ghost. He remembered Lily recently telling him how one-sided conversations were one of the more annoying aspects of being a non-medium in the know. Brian now understood what she had been talking about.
Both Walt and Danielle had asked a series of questions, and Brian hoped Heather would remember enough of the conversation to fill him in on the missing parts. Brian wondered if Walt got the answers he sought. But that would have to wait.
They had arrived at what supposedly was Bud’s gravesite. Brian silently watched as Walt focused his energy, moving large boulders, reminding him of their time up here, when Walt had cleaned up the campfires without getting his hands dirty.
Boulder-size rocks shifted and slid, leaving grooves in the ground as they moved away from the mountain’s wall, revealing the gravesite. After clearing the area, dirt and smaller rocks floated up, drifting off to one side before
falling to the ground, gradually forming a pile. A hole emerged where the boulders had been. Fascinated by the sight, they all stepped closer and watched the hole deepen, revealing its secrets.
“Is that a skull?” Heather asked.
“I think that’s Bud,” Chris said.
“Maybe we should stop now,” Brian said when more dirt moved from the hole.
They all looked to Brian, and Bud said, “No, he can’t stop now.”
“Why?” Heather asked Brian, since he couldn’t hear Bud’s plea.
“I suspect Brian is suggesting we need to call someone up here. Someone more official,” Walt said.
“This is a crime scene,” Brian reminded them.
“An old crime scene,” Danielle muttered.
“And there are no statutes of limitations on murder,” Chris reminded them.
“True, but considering the age of this case, I doubt they will put much time into investigating it,” Heather said.
Brian pulled out his cellphone. While he made his phone call, Bud demanded to know why Walt had stopped digging up his grave.
“As Brian said, this is a crime scene. Brian is a police officer, so it’s understandable he would prefer to go through proper channels,” Danielle explained.
“I want to be buried in the Frederickport Cemetery,” Bud said. “That’s why I wanted you to handle this!”
“Seriously?” Heather looked at Bud and rolled her eyes. “What did you expect, Walt would dig up your bones, shove them in a gunny sack, and then bury them himself at the cemetery in the dead of night?”
Bud frowned at Heather.
“Ahh, Heather, that’s a little cold,” Chris said.
“I’m sorry. But lately I just don’t have patience for ghost demands,” Heather huffed.
“You never have patience,” Chris countered.
“Oh, shut up,” Heather snapped.
“See!” Chris said.
