Evan shoved the last bit of ice cream cone in his mouth and chewed.
“I’m just not sure how you can get her to go to Marlow House. I don’t imagine your aunt and uncle are letting you wander around alone, especially after you snuck out of their house on Friday night.”
Evan’s eyes widened. He stared at Chris.
Chris smiled. “Walt told me about it.”
Licking the last residue of ice cream off his lips, Evan glanced over his shoulder. Eddy had also finished his ice cream cone and now stood by their uncle.
“Why don’t you boys help me get the fishing equipment,” Bruce suggested.
“Can I see someone real quick? I’ll be right back,” Evan blurted.
“See who?” Sissy asked while Bruce stood by Eddy, listening to what Evan had to say.
“It’s for my class’s fundraiser. We’re selling magazines. Miss Donovan told me she wanted to order something. I need to get her order.”
“Fundraiser?” Sissy frowned and looked from Evan to Eddy, who only shrugged, unaware of any fundraiser.
“She just lives down the street. Dad’s let me walk there alone.”
Again, Sissy looked from Evan to Eddy.
“Yeah, Dad has let Evan walk down to Marlow House from the pier before.”
Sissy turned to Evan and said, “You are not to go to Marlow House!”
“Oh, I don’t want to go all the way to Marlow House.” Evan smiled innocently. “Miss Donovan’s house is before that.”
Sissy looked up to her husband.
“I don’t think it’s a big deal. We know where he’ll be. It’s something your brother would let him do,” Bruce said with a shrug.
Sissy looked uncertainly from her husband to Evan, who stood anxiously waiting for her to give him permission to leave. Hesitantly she suggested, “Maybe Eddy should go with him?”
Eddy groaned, clearly not thrilled with the idea, and Evan looked anxiously to Chris. But in the next second his uncle spoke up.
“Don’t be silly. I know who Heather Donovan is. A little odd but not dangerous. And I need Eddy to help me get the fishing equipment.”
“I suppose I could go with him,” Sissy muttered, “while you get the fishing equipment.”
“Sissy, this is what I was talking about earlier,” Bruce snapped.
TWENTY-THREE
“That was a close one,” Chris said as he walked with Evan off the pier and headed up the street to Heather’s house. “I was afraid your aunt was going to come with us.”
“What happened to you?” Evan asked as he glanced over to Chris while still walking.
“I fell when getting off the plane. Wherever my body is, I’m probably unconscious.”
“What’s unconscious?” Evan frowned.
“It’s sort of like being asleep and not being able to wake up.”
“I always thought that was being dead.”
“Evan, you more than anyone should know death isn’t like that. When someone dies, their spirit moves out of their body, leaving it behind. Like Walt.”
“But isn’t that what you did?”
Chris chuckled. “Good point. But in my case, I should be able to move back into my body. That’s not something Walt can do.”
When they arrived at Heather’s house a few minutes later, they went immediately to the front door. Evan rang the bell. There was no answer. Several minutes later, he rang the bell again. Still no answer.
“You stay here. I’ll be right back,” Chris told Evan before he walked through the door, disappearing into Heather’s house. A few minutes later he returned.
“Where is she?” Evan asked.
“I can’t believe this. She isn’t home!” Chris groaned.
“What are we going to do?”
The next moment Evan’s question was moot when Heather pulled into her driveway and parked her car.
“Evan? Evan MacDonald?” Heather asked when she got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her.
“Hello, Miss Donovan,” Evan said brightly. “I was afraid you weren’t here.”
“I’m just getting back from the movies. What are you doing here? Does your aunt know where you are?” Heather stepped onto the front porch and unlocked the door.
“Yes. They’re down at the pier, fishing with my brother. They think I’m trying to sell you magazines for school.”
The front door now open and purse in hand, Heather turned to face the young boy. “And you aren’t?”
Evan shook his head. “No. I only told them that so they would let me come see you.”
Heather arched her brow. “Really? And what is the real reason you wanted to see me?”
“It’s about my dad.”
Heather’s expression softened. She reached out and placed one hand on his shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “I’m so sorry about your father.”
“He’s alive,” Evan insisted.
Heather bit her lower lip, resisting the temptation to disagree with him. After her encounter with Beverly at the theater, she began thinking of the brief apparition she had encountered in her house. While she hadn’t seen him clearly—and she was fairly certain it was male—the more she thought about it, the more she realized it resembled Chris. Considering his plane had disappeared—believed to have crashed in the middle of a forest a week earlier—it was highly possible it was Chris’s spirit that had reached out from the grave.
Not grave exactly, Heather reminded herself. Until he is found, he can’t be buried. But if Chris is dead, chances are the others are too, including this poor boy’s father.
“I know you want to believe that,” she said softly. “But why are you here?”
“I need you to help my dad.”
Still standing on her front porch, the door open, Heather glanced down the street toward the pier where Evan said his aunt, uncle, and brother were waiting. She looked back to Evan. “I don’t understand.”
“Tell her you know she can see ghosts. And that you know she saw something in her house this morning when she was going into her kitchen,” Chris urged.
“I know you can see ghosts,” Evan blurted.
Dropping her hand from the doorknob, she turned to Evan, her expression guarded. “What are you talking about?”
“I can see ghosts too. But my dad told me I can’t tell people that, because they won’t understand. I know you saw something in your house this morning—when you were going into the kitchen. It was Chris, who my dad went on the trip with.”
Glancing around nervously, Heather snatched Evan by the forearm and dragged him into her house, slamming the door behind them. Tossing her purse on the floor, she kneeled down and placed her hands on Evan’s shoulders while looking him in the eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Because Chris told me. He’s here with me.”
Heather jumped up and looked around. “I don’t see him.”
Evan shrugged. “But you did this morning, didn’t you?”
Restlessly brushing her hands through her bangs, she glanced around warily. “I saw something earlier, but I didn’t know what it was.”
“It was Chris, but he’s not dead. He…” Evan turned to where Chris stood and frowned, uncertain what to say.
“Tell her I’m having an out-of-body experience.”
“Chris says he’s having an out-of-body experiment.”
Heather frowned. “What?”
“No, experience,” Chris corrected.
“Experience, he said, not experiment,” Evan clarified.
Hands now on hips, she looked down at Evan. “You’re telling me Chris is here, now, in this room? But he isn’t dead, he’s having some out-of-body experience?”
Evan nodded.
“Ask Chris what my favorite ice cream is,” Heather demanded.
“Huh?” Evan frowned.
Heather smiled. “Chris and I both lived at Marlow House for a time. I’m sure he will remember…if he’s really here.”
Chris chuckled and s
aid, “Vanilla.”
Evan wrinkled his nose and turned to Chris—yet to Heather it looked as if he was looking at an empty spot in her entry hall. “Vanilla? How can anyone like vanilla better than chocolate?”
With a gasp, her right hand flying up to cover her mouth, Heather took a step backwards and warily eyed the room.
“Do you believe me now? Will you help my dad?”
Fifteen minutes later Evan sat with Heather in her kitchen, each eating a slice of chocolate cake. The fact Evan had finished an ice cream cone less than thirty minutes earlier didn’t seem a sufficient reason to turn down an offer of cake. Heather silently ate her piece while Evan explained all that he knew regarding his father’s fateful trip and his unusual relationship with Walt.
“I knew I saw Walt Marlow when I was staying at Marlow House,” Heather muttered as she popped another bite of cake in her mouth.
“So will you help us?” Evan asked.
Setting her fork on her plate, Heather picked up a napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “Certainly. I hope I can. It’s pretty obvious your experience with Walt Marlow’s ghost has been much different than mine. I’ve only seen a flickering image of him—very sporadic. Kind of like what I saw of Chris.” She turned to where she believed Chris stood. “I hope you’re right, Chris, and we can get you back in your body.”
The next moment the doorbell rang.
Heather stood up. “I wonder who that is? Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Evan finished up his cake as Heather went to the door. He had just taken the last bite when she hurried back into the kitchen.
“It’s your aunt. She’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long.”
“Oh crud.” Evan stood up. “What did she say?”
“I haven’t answered the door yet.” Heather picked up a napkin and wiped off Evan’s mouth. “You told her you’re selling me magazines, for school? Right?”
Evan nodded his head.
“Okay. Don’t worry. You go with your aunt and I’ll figure out some way to get in Marlow House.”
“Tell her she needs to bring her laptop to Marlow House. She needs to go to the front door. I’ll have Walt unlock it,” Chris said.
“Chris says to go to the front door of Marlow House. Walt will let you in,” Evan said as he walked with Heather to the front door. “And you have to bring your laptop.”
“Why?” Heather glanced down at Evan.
He shrugged. “That’s what Chris said.”
“Okay, my laptop.”
“Thank you,” Evan said just as Heather reached to open the door.
Turning briefly to Evan, Heather gave him a wink and then looked back to the door, forcing herself to smile brightly as she swung it open. “Well, hello. I imagine you’re here for your nephew. He was just leaving.”
Sissy smiled, looking slightly embarrassed, and reached for Evan’s hand. “I was getting a little worried. I didn’t think he was going to be gone this long. She gently jerked him out the doorway by the hand, pulling him to her side.
Heather managed to tousle Evan’s hair as he was pulled to his aunt’s side. “You have quite the little salesman there.” Heather flashed Evan a smile.
“I hope he wasn’t being a nuisance.”
“Nuisance? Certainly not. Evan is always a little gentleman; you can be proud of him. His father has done a terrific job with this boy.”
Sissy relaxed, gentling her hold on Evan’s hand. She glanced down at the child. “Yes, he’s a good boy.”
After saying their final goodbyes, Heather stood in the doorway, absently twisting the tip of her right braid while watching Sissy lead her nephew down the walkway and to the sidewalk. Periodically, Evan would glance back at Heather, seeking a reassuring sign. Still twisting her braid, she nodded silently and smiled.
“If you’re still here, Chris, let’s go.” Walking back into her house, she grabbed her house keys and then snatched her laptop off her kitchen counter before stepping outside again. After locking her front door, she slipped her keys in her pocket and headed for Marlow House, carrying her laptop under one arm.
“I sure hope you’ll be able to see and hear Walt,” Chris said as he walked alongside Heather. “If not, I’m not exactly sure how you’re going to help us if we can’t communicate with you.”
If Heather could hear his words, she made no sign; she continued walking in the direction of Marlow House.
“But I know you saw me earlier. You admitted it to Evan.” Impulsively Chris leapt in front of Heather, raised his hands over his head, and shouted, “I’m here!”
Heather stopped abruptly, her eyes wide.
“You can see me, can’t you?” Chris asked excitedly, still standing in front of Heather.
Furrowing her brow into a frown, Heather reached out, attempting to touch something that she imagined might be there. Lowering her hand to her side, she glanced around. “Where did you go, Chris?”
“I’m right here!” Chris shouted in response.
Narrowing her eyes, she glanced around and let out an angry huff. “I don’t know where you went, but stop jumping in front of me like that if you’re just going to disappear. It’s annoying!” She glanced around again before stepping through Chris and continuing on her way.
Chris, who remained standing in the same place, glanced down at his body, which Heather had just passed through. “I suppose it isn’t actually my body. But I still don’t like how it felt,” Chris muttered. “I suppose I deserved this considering the times I teased Walt…oh, Walt!” Chris turned abruptly and hurried to Marlow House, passing Heather along the way. He needed to tell Walt to unlock the front door.
A few moments later Heather stood on the front porch of Marlow House. She was about to knock on the front door when it opened—ever so slowly—reminding her of a scene out of an old thriller. The unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach brought back the memory of how she had felt when approaching Presley House some six months earlier.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the dimly lit entry hall. The door closed behind her, seemingly by itself. Glancing around uneasily, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
A moment later she heard a bark and the sound of a dog racing down the stairs in her direction.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Well, damn, how is this going to help if she can’t see or hear us?” Walt asked impatiently. He stood with Chris in the entry hall and watched as Heather hesitantly wandered down the hall, Sadie by her side, tail wagging. Heather peeked in doorways and called out, “Hello, is anyone here?”
“I was certain she’d be able to see you. She’s seen—and talked to—other ghosts.” Chris walked with Walt down the hall, trailing behind Heather, who continued to search for some sign of their presence.
“If I have to listen to you call me a ghost, I need to come up with an equally annoying term for what you are,” Walt grumbled. “But first…” Walt vanished from Chris’s side and placed himself directly in Heather’s path, focusing all his energy in her direction.
HEATHER WAS JUST COMING to the doorway leading to the library when the area directly in front of her flickered and sparkled with random rays of light. Sadie let out a bark, her tail still wagging, and then plopped her butt on the floor, as if someone had just given her the command to sit. In turn, Heather abruptly stopped. Her eyes still focused on the emerging apparition, she absently reached to her side and patted Sadie—a silent bid for support. Heather watched as the portion of light began to flutter and then twirl, gradually revealing a faint image. Her eyes widened. She watched as the image grew clearer, no longer faint and abstract. She let out a gasp. Standing before her was Walt Marlow, who—if she had seen him walking on the beach—she would assume he was just a regular man—one wearing a vintage suit of the 1920s.
“Walt Marlow!” she gasped, her hand briefly touching her lips.
“So you can see me now?” he asked impatiently.
Heather nodded in response.<
br />
“I assume that means you can hear me too?” he asked.
“I always knew you were here!” she said excitedly.
“We have no time to waste. Come, follow me.” Walt turned and headed for the library.
“How long have you been here?” Heather asked as she followed him.
Still walking, Walt glanced over his shoulder at her. “You mean in this house?”
“Yes. Have you always haunted it? Or do you…I don’t know…wander the streets of Frederickport?”
Chris chuckled. “Wandering the streets of Frederickport? What, and rattling chains as you go?”
Ignoring Chris, Walt said, “I’ve been here since I died.”
“Danielle knows about you, doesn’t she?”
“Of course.”
“I knew it,” Heather muttered under her breath and then asked, “Were you hiding from me before?”
Now in the library, Walt turned to face Heather. “Hiding from you? What do you mean?”
“I stayed here for weeks, and I never saw you like you are now. Oh, I caught glimpses of you. Like with Chris.” Heather frowned and glanced around. “Where is Chris, by the way? I thought he’d be here with you.”
“He is. You obviously can’t see him, but he’s standing over there.” Walt pointed to the doorway and then paused a moment and studied Heather. “You really can’t see him?”
Heather shook her head. “No. I mean, I saw him like a brief flash. Once in my house, and then again when I was walking here. I think I heard him shout something at me. But nothing tangible. Why couldn’t I see you before, yet I can now?”
Walt shrugged. “I have no idea. But we need to—”
“I’ve seen other ghosts, why not you?”
“Would you please not call me that.”
“Aren’t you a ghost?” Heather asked.
Chris sat on the desk chair and snickered. “Yes, Walt, aren’t you a ghost?”
The Ghost Who Stayed Home Page 15
