The Ghost and the Silver Scream

by Bobbi Holmes

  “He was prejudiced?” Chris asked.

  “I wouldn’t call him prejudiced—at least not by the standards of his day. He was always fair with his employees and didn’t care about their nationality or race. If a person of color did a good job, he would get promoted over a white man if he deserved it. Which was one reason the local Klan had some issues with him. Because of his money and political standing, they didn’t go after him the same way they would a more vulnerable white man who they felt was being a little too kindly to people of color. But have his only grandson date—or god forbid, marry—a woman of another race. No. It simply was not accepted back then.”

  “Would he have disowned you?” Chris asked.

  “No. I don’t believe so. But the fact is, I wasn’t willing to step that far over what was socially accepted at the time. So I suppose, if I was to be judged back then by today’s standards, I would be considered prejudiced too. And if I am honest with myself, I was.”

  “And now?” Chris said.

  Walt smiled. “I think if you’re seriously interested, there is no reason you shouldn’t try getting to know her better. And if it develops into something romantic that you both want, then there is no reason not to pursue a relationship.”

  “She’s too young,” Chris grumbled.

  “Now, back in my day, no one would bat an eye when a man much older than you pursued a woman Seraphina’s age.”

  Chris began to laugh.

  Walt frowned. “What?”

  “Back in my day. You old man.” Chris laughed again.

  The Larimores and Staffords were on the same flight to Portland, along with Jackie’s assistant, Bentley Mason. When they arrived in Oregon, they picked up the rental van they intended to share, with Bentley driving. Before leaving Portland, Julius asked Bentley to stop at one of the local pot shops so he could do a little shopping. While there, they all bought something, except for Polly, who never indulged.

  When they arrived at Marlow House, Bentley was left to haul all the luggage up from the van to the front porch, much to his annoyance. Polly felt guilty about Bentley handling all the luggage without help, but when she tried to take her own suitcase, her husband chastised her, telling her to leave it; that was what Bentley was getting paid for, he said.

  “I don’t get paid to tote your suitcases,” Bentley grumbled to himself.

  Within minutes of ringing the bell, Walt Marlow opened the front door and welcomed them inside. They were introduced to Walt’s wife, the housekeeper, and a friend named Chris Johnson, who helped Bentley take the suitcases up to the rooms.

  After all the suitcases were delivered to the appropriate rooms, Bentley went to the one assigned to him and found Phoebe Greda sitting at the dressing table, freshening her makeup.

  “I heard we were roomies,” Bentley said as he walked into the room carrying a large suitcase and a briefcase.

  Phoebe glanced over her shoulder and said, “The bed by the window is mine.”

  Bentley tossed his cases on the other bed and muttered, “Of course.”

  “So is everyone here?” Phoebe asked.

  “Looks like it. I assume you came with Seraphina and Birdie?” he asked.

  “Yes. They put Birdie downstairs. Thank gawd. If her room was next to Seraphina’s, she would be driving her nuts.”

  “I have to say, I’m surprised to see Seraphina took you back,” Bentley said as he opened the suitcase and began to unpack.

  “Why? Barry’s not around anymore. No reason to let him come between us.”

  “Wow. That’s cold,” Bentley said.

  Phoebe turned back to the mirror and applied some lipstick.

  “There’s nice scenery here. Did you catch that friend of theirs, Chris?” Bentley asked.

  “You mean the housekeeper’s son?” she asked.

  “Is that why he helped me with the suitcases?” he wondered.

  Phoebe shrugged. “Probably. He’s all yours.”

  “Seriously? You aren’t interested? I’m surprised.”

  “I learned my lesson. Don’t waste time with someone who can only offer a good time.”

  “What’s wrong with a good time?” Bentley asked, filling one of the empty dresser drawers with some of his clothes.

  “Nothing, but I need to focus, and I’m not going to get distracted again.” She screwed the lid back on her lipstick.

  “Like you did with Barry?” he asked.

  “Nothing happened between me and Barry,” she insisted. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

  “Yeah, right,” he muttered as he closed the now full dresser drawer.

  Snow began to rain from the ceiling of Marlow House’s foyer. The only one to see it was Marie, who had just stepped out from the living room after noticing the glittering snowflakes through the open doorway. Marie stood in the foyer and glanced upwards, waiting for the apparition to appear. She watched the flakes begin to swirl, and then the vision appeared, transparent at first, with arms extended and sparkling light shooting from her fingertips.

  “You know, that is wasted on me,” Marie said dryly as Eva made touchdown, her slippered feet landing on the wood floor and any evidence of snow vanishing.

  “I do love a good entrance. It’s so critical,” Eva said.

  “It was a good one, I give you that. But you might want to save your energy for when some of the mediums are around, so they can enjoy it,” Marie suggested.

  “Imagine if anyone could see it? How I would love to make that entrance amongst a roomful of unsuspecting living people!” Eva said.

  “They wouldn’t be living for long. Would probably all drop dead from a heart attack—shock. Join us all on this side.”

  “You are such a pessimist!” Eva scolded with a laugh. She then peeked over Marie’s shoulder. “Are they in there? All of them?”

  “Yes, come. I’ll introduce you—so to speak.”

  Chris had returned to the foundation office, and Joanne had gone home, but she intended to return in time to finish and prepare dinner. Walt and Danielle sat in the living room with their guests. Danielle noticed Marie and Eva, who stood by the open doorway eavesdropping.

  “So your friend Chris isn’t the housekeeper’s son?” Polly asked after the topic had come up.

  “Oh, no.” Danielle laughed. “They just happen to have the same last name. No relation. Actually, Chris is also a neighbor. Or he was, until his house burned down before Christmas.”

  “That’s horrible!” Seraphina said.

  “Yes, but he’s rebuilding,” Danielle said. “In fact, the house is almost finished. At the moment, he and his dog are staying over in one of the rooms at the Glandon Foundation Headquarters, where he works.”

  “That’s awful generous of his employer, to let him stay there with his dog,” Teddy said.

  “Glandon Foundation? That’s who he works for?” Birdie asked.

  “Yes, are you familiar with it?” Danielle asked.

  “Oh, yes. In fact, I was going to mention it. I had read how Christopher Glandon stayed at Marlow House a few times,” Birdie said.

  “You read about that?” Walt asked.

  “Yes.” Birdie nodded.

  “What is the Glandon Foundation?” Phoebe asked.

  “The Glandons were a very wealthy family. Quite well known,” Birdie told her. “I never met the son, but I was familiar with the parents. Randy used to golf with the father.” She looked at Walt and Danielle and added, “Randy was my husband.”

  “What do you mean they were? Aren’t they wealthy anymore?” Seraphina asked.

  “The parents were killed in a tragic boating accident. Their son, Christopher, inherited everything. He’s worth billions.”

  Phoebe perked up. “And he lives in Frederickport?”

  “I don’t believe he does.” Birdie looked to Danielle. “From what I understand, his foundation is located here, but he lives abroad. Isn’t that true?”

  “That’s right,” Danielle lied.

  “
But you know him? He has stayed here?” Phoebe asked.

  “I remember reading about that now,” Jackie said. “There was a big lawsuit where the uncles contested the will. And then later, after they lost, they tried killing their nephew. They ended up in prison. I think one of them has since died.”

  “You’re right,” Birdie said. She turned to look at Danielle and said, “The uncles tried to kill you too, didn’t they?”

  “So you read about that too,” Danielle muttered.

  “Sounds like we have another movie in the making,” Teddy remarked. He looked at Walt and asked, “Are you going to write about it?”

  “I’ve never considered it,” Walt said truthfully.

  “So this Chris we met, he works for this Glandon guy?” Phoebe asked.

  “Yes, but more for the foundation,” Danielle explained.

  “Does he ever come to Frederickport?” Phoebe asked.

  “Considering what I’ve read about his few experiences while in Frederickport, I’m not even sure why he would have his foundation here,” Birdie said. “This place certainly hasn’t been lucky for him.”

  “What does the foundation do?” Polly asked.

  “The Glandon Foundation does a lot of philanthropic work,” Danielle explained.

  “He gives his money away,” Walt added.

  “What’s he like? What does he look like?” Phoebe asked.

  “You seem kind of interested,” Bentley teased. “You don’t even know if he’s married.”

  “He isn’t married,” Birdie told him. “And as I recall, he’s sort of a beatnik sort of boy. Shaggy beard. Needed a haircut. Not very attractive. At least not from the few photographs I’ve seen. There aren’t many. He’s camera shy.”

  Danielle resisted the temptation to let out a snort, and by Walt’s smirk, she figured he was thinking the same thing as her.

  “With his money, who needs to be attractive?” Bentley chortled.

  Phoebe looked at Walt and Danielle and asked, “What is he like? You said he gives money away. He must be pretty generous.”

  Walt considered the question a few moments and then said, “I think it is his desperate need to be liked. Frankly, Chris Glandon is rather an odd, sad little fellow. Socially inept. He might be worth billions, but he’s extremely awkward around women. A bit of a recluse. Kind of a klutz.”

  Danielle giggled. “Walt, that is a horrible thing to say.”

  Walt looked to her, feigning sincerity. “You know it’s true, love. He’s a nice guy, but if he hadn’t been left all that money, we both know he would probably be living on the streets now.”

  Thirteen

  “Have you seen any ghosts yet?” Teddy asked with a smirk as he removed the shirt he wore and tossed it over the nearby chair. He and his wife were alone in their room at Marlow House, preparing for dinner. Alone except for the ghost sitting on the bed watching them.

  “I never said I expected to see a ghost,” Polly argued.

  Standing shirtless in the middle of the room, he pointed at the closet and said, “Get me a clean shirt. Something that will go with these slacks.”

  Polly scurried to the closet to find a shirt while Teddy turned to the mirror hanging over the dressing table. Looking at his reflection, his right hand moved over his beard, absently inspecting it, before saying, “Maybe you didn’t say that, but I know how you are. You believe all that nonsense.”

  “I just find those stories fascinating,” she said, handing him a clean shirt.

  He let out a snort and shoved one arm into the right sleeve, pulling on the garment. “Polly, it’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you can’t act.”

  Polly furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about? Since when did you think I can’t act?”

  “Trying to convince me you wouldn’t be sucked into believing those ridiculous ghost stories. You are so gullible. I imagine the Marlows, when they ran this as a bed and breakfast, planted all that ghost nonsense. You know, she used to own a marketing company. A haunted bed and breakfast would get quite the draw.”

  “Whatever, but that crack about me not being able to act, that wasn’t very nice. When we met, you told me I was talented.”

  “I wasn’t speaking about your acting.” He let out a crude laugh and reached over, giving her a pat on the backside.

  Instead of responding, Polly stood quietly, her lower lip quivering, and watched as Teddy began buttoning the front of his shirt. When he came to the second button, he began to struggle, unable to push the button through the tiny hole. A moment later he cursed and yanked his right sleeves’ cuff, impatiently tugging the garment from his body. In a rage, he balled up the shirt and threw it at Polly, hitting her in the face. “Find me another shirt to wear. Something’s wrong with those damn buttonholes. I want you to return it to the store when we get home. I want my money back.”

  Now holding the shirt, she shook out the wrinkles he had made and said, “Teddy, you’ve worn this before. I don’t think they’re going to take it back.”

  “They’d better take it back,” he snapped. “Those buttons are too big for the holes. It’s always a pain to put on. I don’t know why you bought it for me in the first place.”

  “You aren’t a very nice man,” Marie said from her place on the bed. “That is no way to talk to your wife.” Annoyed that Teddy could not hear her reprimand, Marie watched as the flustered wife hurried to find her husband another shirt to wear.

  “And for gawd’s sake, find something else to put on. You don’t expect to wear that to dinner, do you?” he asked.

  Now standing in front of the closet, looking through the shirts she had hung there earlier, Polly glanced to Teddy. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”

  “I don’t need to explain myself. Just put something else on.” The next moment he turned abruptly and stomped over to the closet. He pushed her aside and then grabbed a hanger with a blue dress. Turning toward Polly, he shoved it at her. “Put this on.”

  “You are a horrible little man,” Marie grumbled, looking sympathetically to his wife, who looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “And I don’t want you sitting next to Julius at dinner, do you understand?” he snapped.

  Using the cuff of her blouse to wipe away the moisture around her eyes, she asked, “Why can’t I sit next to Julius? When we’re all together, you’re always talking to Jackie anyway. It’s like I’m not even in the room.”

  “I’m talking to Jackie because we have a movie to make. You are my wife, and your job is to sit there and look presentable. It’s the only job you have.”

  “That’s not true,” she choked out. “I am an actress.”

  “And when was the last time you worked?” he snapped.

  “That is because you…”

  “Enough! I don’t want to talk about it. Just do as I say. I see how Julius looks at you. I’m not going to have my wife become another conquest of Julius Stafford.”

  “Julius isn’t like that,” she fairly whined.

  “You’re such a simpleton sometimes.” He turned from his wife, who stood frozen by the closet, clutching the crumpled shirt and blue dress. Reaching in the closet, he grabbed another shirt.

  Several minutes later Teddy stood at the bedroom door and said, “I’m going downstairs. Wash your face before you join us. We don’t need everyone to know you’ve been crying. Let’s keep the drama in front of the camera, shall we?”

  Polly stood silently and watched her husband leave the room. After he shut the door, she turned around to go change clothes when she noticed something on the floor. With a frown she reached down to pick it up. It was the small paper sack the edibles Teddy had purchased at the pot shop had come in.

  Looking at the crumpled empty sack in her hand, Polly shook her head and said, “I thought this stuff was supposed to make you mellow, not crabby.” Wadding up the small sack, she tossed it in the nearby trash can.

  Fuming, Marie had followed Teddy from the room into the empty hal
lway, cursing him. Unfortunately, he could not hear her. She stood behind him and watched as he paused a moment, adjusting his shirt collar. Glancing around the hallway, she spied one of the paintings hanging on the wall.

  “Oh…I really shouldn’t, should I?” Marie asked herself with a chuckle. “Yes, I should.”

  Teddy didn’t notice at first when the painting down the hall unseated itself from the nail holding it in place. Yet it was difficult to overlook as it floated down the hallway in his direction. Frozen in place, his eyes widened as the painting stopped inches before his face, and he found himself looking into the eyes of the girl in the painting. It hovered there a moment in midair. But when Marie heard someone turning the doorknob of one of the other bedrooms, she sent the painting in a quick reverse, rehanging it on its nail just as one of the bedroom doors opened, and Jackie and Julius Stafford stepped out into the hallway.

  “Where’s Polly?” Julius asked as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

  Teddy remained motionless, his eyes on the painting now hanging on the wall.

  “Teddy?” Jackie asked a moment later when he did not respond to Julius’s question.

  Teddy blinked his eyes and then shifted his gaze to Jackie.

  Jackie studied Teddy a moment, cocked her head, and then asked, “Are you okay, Teddy? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Ten people gathered around the dining room table at Marlow House. Walt sat at the head of the table, while Danielle took her place across from him, at the other end. To Walt’s left sat the Larimores and Staffords, with Teddy and Jackie sitting next to each other. To Walt’s right sat Birdie, and next to her was Seraphina and then Phoebe and Bentley, who sat to Danielle’s left.

  “I swear, I think poor Teddy saw a ghost upstairs,” Jackie said with a laugh as she picked up her glass of water and took a sip.

  Polly, who had just joined the group, looked to Jackie in surprise and was about to ask what she was talking about when Teddy said, “Stop it, Jackie, it was nothing.”