C.F. Fowler - Marion Rogers 01 - A Ghost's Vengeance

by C. F. Fowler

  A sitting room was located down the hallway to the left. The wall opposite the entrance had a sofa and end tables, with a coffee table in front. The furniture was antique: maybe Early American, 50 years old. To the left, across from the sofa, was a console TV set. It was an older model, one with a stereo record player and AM/FM radio. To the right was a bookcase with knickknacks and pictures. Marion went over to examine the family photos. She recognized Ramona with a handsome young man, must be Richard, she thought. Both were smiling, happy. Another looked to be a family wedding photo. She assumed the people with them were Richard’s parents. She picked up the photo to get a closer look and was startled by a voice behind her.

  “Those were happier days. Everything was good then.” Marion spun around to see if Ramona had followed her, but instead saw a woman sitting on the sofa. She looked at the photo again and recognized the woman in the wedding picture.

  “Roberta?”

  The spirit nodded.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m looking after Ramona, just like I promised Richard I would.”

  “Are you responsible for the crazy things that are happening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, maybe Ramona can take it but the neighbors cannot. Are you trying to scare your daughter-in-law?”

  “I’m not trying to scare her. I’m trying to save her.”

  Marion considered Roberta’s words, then went to the sofa and sat down. She said, “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that to me.”

  “Ramona is depressed, she has not been able to accept her Ritchie’s death. She’s isolating, staying inside in the dark. I make a mess to send her outside into the sun. She spends some time walking around before she comes back. I think that’s good for her. I would prefer she get out and make friends. Friends can be helpful in times like this. Ramona and Ritchie saved me at a low point in my life. I was missing my Ritchie so much. My husband was Richard but his family called him Ritchie. That’s why we named our son Richard.”

  Roberta seemed lost in thought. Marion took advantage of the silence and asked, “What happened to your Ritchie?”

  Roberta started to fade as she said, “He died in Vietnam. He was a Marine, like his son and his grandson. War has taken so much from us.”

  Marion sat still, unable to respond.

  Roberta came into focus as she asked, “Will you help Ramona?”

  Marion reflected on this and knew there was only one way to answer.

  “Ramona,” she called out, “will you come in here please.”

  Ramona came down the hallway and into the room.

  “Have you found my Ritchie?”

  “No, it’s not Ritchie. It’s Roberta. She says you’re depressed, isolated. Is that true?” Actually Marion already knew it was true but felt it best to bring Ramona into the conversation this way.

  Ramona burst into tears and cried out, “Oh Roberta! Go away, leave me alone!”

  “No, dear, I cannot,” she answered.

  Marion translated for Ramona, “She says she promised Richard she would take care of you. She will not go back on her promise to her son.”

  With that Ramona turned and left the room. Marion heard her footsteps as she climbed the stairs, then a door slammed. Roberta disappeared. With no one left to speak with, Marion left the house and got back in her rental SUV. She pulled out her phone and called Phyllis. Phyllis gave her address to Marion and invited her to stop by on her way out of town.

  Marion entered the address into the GPS and drove the two blocks to Phyllis’ home. She pulled up as Phyllis came out of her house, dressed for church. She climbed into Marion’s car.

  Marion said, “Phyllis, I can’t help Ramona, but maybe you can.”

  “Okay. Let me have it.” Phyllis was steeling herself for whatever might come.

  “The ghost haunting Ramona is her mother-in-law, Roberta.”

  “Roberta? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Roberta promised her son she would look after Ramona. As you probably know, Ramona is not dealing very well with her son’s death. Roberta says she’s depressed and isolated.”

  “Did you tell Ramona?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t tell me, she didn’t take it well.”

  Marion didn’t want to get into psychology here because that wasn’t her thing. But maybe Phyllis could help. “She told Roberta to leave her alone. But I think Roberta is right. Ramona needs to get out in the sun and make some friends. Roberta feels friends would help her deal with her loss.” Marion left it there and waited for Phyllis to take up the task. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

  Then Phyllis said with authority, “If that’s what Roberta wants then that’s what will happen.” She held out her hand to Marion, “I want to thank you for your time. We neighbors really appreciate you doing this out of the kindness of your heart. I’ll take it from here.”

  Marion shook her hand and said, “I’m glad I could help.”

  The two women said their good-byes and Phyllis jumped out of the car as her family came out the front door and headed to the car parked in the driveway. Marion started her car and set the GPS for Kennedy Airport.

  Sitting in the terminal, waiting for her flight to be announced, Marion sat with her notepad, making notes about the morning’s job. Completing that freebie made her eligible to submit her travel for reimbursement from Josh. She also wanted to make notes about how to proceed with Catherine.

  On the flight to the west coast, Marion thought about what had happened at Adele’s house, and whether Catherine would change her tactics. She fell asleep while considering the options and awoke as the flight attendant announced they were making their final approach into San Diego. She was grateful for the rest as she was unsure how long it would be before she was home again. She only slept well at home, in her own bed.

  After deplaning, she headed for the nearest taxi stand and headed for Gordon’s hotel. She was eager to see him and hoped he would be happy to see her a day early.

  The hotel was a local, privately owned business that looked very clean and well kept. The hotel clerk was helpful, giving her the room next to Gordon. After unpacking and showering, she sat at her computer and completed her incident report on the morning’s job. She emailed it to Josh and powered off the computer. As she picked up her cell phone to call Gordon, she saw Catherine out of the corner of her eye. She was standing in front of the window, quietly watching Marion work.

  Chapter 8

  “How long have you been here?” Marion felt exposed.

  Catherine smiled and said, “Just a few minutes. I didn’t want to disturb your train of thought. I wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me?”

  “Yes. You helped my girls understand what happened with the dog and my mother is getting the help she so desperately needs.”

  Marion thought about this and responded, “You’re welcome, but it’s what I do. I try to help where and when I can.”

  Catherine was clearly visible. She smiled and floated toward Marion. “I will help you. I tried to tell the policeman that the pedophile is no longer in the house being watched.”

  “He doesn’t have the gift.”

  Catherine responded, “People don’t necessarily need to possess the ability to hear or see spirits to get the message. Most feel an idea come to them and think it’s their own idea when sometimes it’s a spirit trying to guide them. Your friend resists my influence.”

  This was the first time Marion had heard of this. “He’s a strong-minded police officer. I can understand why he wouldn’t hear you. Where has Jergins gone?”

  “He hasn’t settled. I will contact you when he does.”

  This was good news;
they had an agreement between them.

  “I will wait to hear from you, Catherine.”

  Catherine faded away and Marion called Gordon from her cell phone.

  He was sitting outside Jergins’ current home, making sure he was unable to grab any children. She asked him for the address telling him she might need it if he was there when she arrived.

  She asked the accommodating hotel staff to call her a cab. Within 10 minutes she was on her way to surprise Gordon. Marion hadn’t been to San Diego in years. It’s called America’s Finest City and she couldn’t agree more. The air was cleaner than Los Angeles and the beach communities made the overall ambience casual and laid back.

  The cab dropped her off a block away from Jergins’ address, and she strolled down the street looking for Gordon’s car. She spotted him sitting a half a block down from the pervert’s house, looking like he was reading a newspaper. He wasn’t, of course, because he saw Marion as she approached, pushing open the passenger door as she walked up the sidewalk.

  Marion slid in and closed the door.

  “Hello, beautiful! Made pretty good time, didn’t you?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. Let’s grab an early dinner.”

  “Do we want to let this guy slip away?”

  “Oh, sorry, he’s gone. Catherine tried to tell you but you resisted her suggestion.”

  “Gone! Really? Where?”

  “Don’t worry about it. She’ll let us know when he settles. He can’t escape her.”

  Gordon resisted Marion’s suggestion as well, and got out of the car to check out the house he was watching. He found the back door open and the house empty. There was no sign anyone had lived there.

  As he got back in the car he said, mostly to himself, “Well that’s a waste of a few days!”

  Marion sat for a moment, giving him a little time to compose himself, and then said, “Trust me! He can’t get away from Catherine. He can’t hide from her.”

  Gordon was still visibly upset as Marion continued. “She tried to tell you. Did you feel at all the inclination to leave?”

  Gordon turned toward her and said with an air of absolute assurance, “Yes, I was overwhelmed with the idea to scrap the whole thing and go back to L.A. I just couldn’t.”

  His head fell back against the headrest as he looked out the windshield. He seemed defeated.

  Marion sat quietly for a couple of minutes and then asked, “Okay, is that enough time?”

  “Enough time for what?”

  “Wallowing in defeat.”

  Gordon turned to Marion, his face half anger, half bewilderment. “Wallowing?”

  “Yes,” Marion said as she looked him in the eye. “That’s what I see. You feel he escaped you and take that as strike against your abilities. Am I wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then let’s stop that train of thought. You’ve heard the phrase marathon not a sprint? Well, that’s what this is. We have to let Jergins feel he eluded you. He’ll feel very good about himself and get cocky. We’ll get him.”

  Gordon thought this over. It was hard to admit she was right, so instead he asked, “What do you feel like for dinner?”

  “We’re in San Diego! Sea Food! Have you ever been to The Fish Market?”

  Gordon’s face broke into a smile. “No, so let’s go. I have a feeling you know it’s good and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Just head west to the Midway Museum. It’s next door and they have the kissing statue there on display. I’ve been wanting to see that while it’s here!”

  They arrived at the restaurant and, while waiting to be seated, took a stroll along the waterfront to see the “Unconditional Surrender” statue which depicts the famous photograph of a sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square at the end of World War II. Gordon asked an older gentleman sitting nearby to take a picture of them with his smartphone camera. As they positioned themselves in front of the 25-foot tall statue, Gordon embraced Marion and leaned over to kiss her in the same pose. Marion was taken by surprise, but went with it because it felt right. This man felt right, as no one had before. As they continued to kiss, the man with the camera cleared his throat. They straightened up and he said, “I’d keep taking pictures, but I think 15 is plenty.”

  Marion smiled as Gordon apologized and thanked the man as he slipped the phone in his pocket. They walked slowly back to the restaurant holding hands in silence. After an excellent seafood dinner with Crème Brûlée for dessert, they drove back to the hotel. Gordon walked Marion to her room. She opened the door and pulled him in, closing it gently behind them. Once again he embraced and kissed her, gently at first, then more and more urgently.

  The following morning Marion woke to her cell phone ringing. Gordon stirred as well, reaching for his phone on the bedside table.

  “It’s mine,” Marion said, trying to focus on the identification of the person calling. She answered the phone, “Josh, I’m on vacation!”

  “Yes, yes you are. Just wanted to find out when I can book you again.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Marion, it’s almost eleven. Are you still in bed?”

  “Eleven a.m. or p.m.?”

  “No windows where you are? Morning, girl, morning!”

  Gordon got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Marion felt her head clearing and replied, “I’ll be back in L.A. on Wednesday. That soon enough for you?”

  “Sure, and thanks for the report. I hope everything went well on the East Coast.”

  “Yes, very well. I’ll call you when I get back to L.A.” She ended the call and put the phone back on the bedside table. The toilet flushed, the bathroom door opened and Gordon came back to bed. Marion marveled at the chiseled features of his body. Some cops got used to being sedentary and they looked the part. Not this man. Oh Lord did she hit the jackpot!

  Gordon leaned over and kissed her gently. This time the lovemaking was slow, deliberate. She decided here and now this was the man for her.

  They ate breakfast at a nearby coffee shop, looking at each other but speaking little. As they strolled back to the hotel, Gordon asked what she was thinking.

  “Thinking? About what?”

  Gordon hesitated, then said, “About us.”

  They walked up the stairs to her room, she opened the door and said, “Come on in and I’ll show you what I think.”

  An hour later, as they lay in each other’s arms she said, “Does that answer your question?”

  Gordon smiled, kissed her, and said, “Yes. But I’m thinking about the long term. I don’t usually, but all I can think about in my future is you. Is this moving too fast?”

  Marion smiled and laid her head on his shoulder and said, “No! Not at all! I didn’t want to scare you off, but this morning all I could think of was you and me, from here on out. Sometimes you just know, you know what I mean?”

  Gordon smiled and stroked her hair, “Yes, so we’re on the same page here.” He hugged her and she hugged him back.

  They packed and loaded Gordon’s car with their luggage and headed back to Los Angeles. The two-hour drive and moderate traffic gave them plenty of time to talk about their relationship. They shared a love for the same types of movies. She was an avid theater buff but Gordon had never been exposed to it and therefore had no opinion one way or the other, yet Gordon expressed interest in going to the theater with her. Marion was not a jogger, choosing a gym workout instead, but was willing to join Gordon on his early morning runs. They both liked music in general, not favoring any particular genre.

  At one point during the drive home, when the conversation ceased, Gordon said quietly, “I wasn’t wallowing.”

  Marion said, “What?”

  “Outside Jergins�
�� place when I came back to the car. I wasn’t wallowing, I was considering how he got by me and what I should do next.”

  “Yes, I know. I was just hoping to jerk you out of whatever ideas you were considering at the time. There was nothing to be done and Catherine is glued to him.”

  “I wish I had the faith in your ghost that you have.”

  “If you had met her family I think you would feel the same way I do. But I understand your apprehension.”

  By the time Gordon reached Marion’s apartment they had already agreed to stay at each other’s home on alternating weeks. It might seem a bit fast, but it felt right.

  Chapter 9

  In the weeks that followed, Marion and Gordon lost track of Jergins. Catherine did not appear with a location. But life went on. Marion and Gordon’s relationship continued to grow but, as time went on, Marion found it necessary at times, after returning from a job, to stay alone at her place. Sometimes the strain of the situation drained her. Gordon felt, if they had a future together, they should be able to deal with anything together. But as they were not living together yet, he acquiesced to her request, but not for long.

  One Friday in October, Marion texted Gordon that she was flying home but needed a little solitude due to the taxing nature of the job. She would come to his place Saturday morning. Gordon decided the time had come to break through this barrier. He went to Marion’s apartment and chilled some wine, drew a hot bath with her favorite bath salts and put on a Debussy CD. Just as he came out of the bathroom, he heard the front door close. He stepped into the living room as Marion was setting down her luggage.

  “Didn’t you get my text?” Marion asked.

  “Yep, I sure did,” Gordon replied. “I hoped it was time you shared yourself with me when things aren’t so happy. I think I can take it and I don’t want you to shut me out.”