by Bobbi Holmes
“What did they look like?” Danielle asked. “Does he have any idea who they were?”
“No. Max isn’t good at describing people. And it sounds like they wore something like a ski mask over their heads, concealing their faces. At least, that’s how he describes it.”
“Oh my gosh, Joanne could have gotten hurt. Did they take anything?”
“According to Max they didn’t. But they were obviously looking for something.”
Four
The next morning Walt and Danielle walked across the street to the Bartleys’ house. Ian answered the door while his golden retriever, Sadie, exuberantly welcomed the pair. They followed Ian into the house after he greeted them and said, “Lily’s in the nursery.”
“Hey, guys,” Lily called out when the three walked into the nursery a few minutes later. She was busy arranging something on the dresser while Connor stood in his crib, hands on the rail, bouncing in excitement when he spied the newcomers. Danielle went immediately to the crib and picked up the baby, giving him kisses and hugs.
“They were telling me someone broke into Marlow House yesterday,” Ian told Lily, while Walt walked to Danielle and Connor, giving the baby’s ruddy cheek a quick kiss.
Lily pivoted from the dresser and faced her husband. She glanced over to Danielle and Walt, her son content in Danielle’s arms. “You’re kidding me?”
Walt recounted what Max had told him the night before.
“And nothing is missing?” Lily asked.
“According to Max, they took nothing, and nothing seems to be missing,” Danielle said.
“How did they get in?” Lily asked.
“I’m thinking the pet door,” Danielle said.
“You can get one of those remote-control thingies for Max’s collar that opens the door, making it harder for a burglar to get in. It was probably someone who knew you were out of town,” Lily said.
“I don’t keep a collar on Max. They’re dangerous for cats. He could hang himself. And I don’t think they were there to steal anything. They were looking for something,” Danielle insisted.
“What are you going to do about it?” Ian asked.
“I called the chief this morning and told him. There’s nothing he can really do about it. And we can’t mention anything to Joanne about what she walked in on. That would be a hard one to explain,” Danielle said. Connor squirmed in her arms. She wrestled with him a moment before Ian took his son from her, placing him on the floor with some toys.
“Sounds like Joanne walked in on them before they found something to steal,” Lily suggested.
“Since when do thieves look through file folders? Why not my jewelry box that was sitting in plain view?” Danielle asked.
“They could be looking for something more valuable, like credit card numbers, social security numbers, stock certificates?” Ian suggested.
“I suppose,” Danielle said glumly, taking a seat on the rocking chair.
“We were wondering if you noticed any strangers—assuming they aren’t someone who has been at the house before, since Max didn’t recognize their voices—in the neighborhood yesterday. A man and a woman?” Walt asked.
Lily shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t see anyone.” She looked at Ian, who repeated the same thing.
“On the positive side, they didn’t hurt Joanne, and they left empty-handed,” Walt said.
Danielle glanced to the dresser and noticed something that hadn’t been there the last time she had been in the nursery. “Is that one of those Echos?”
Lily glanced at the electronic device and grinned. “Yes. I just hooked it up. Check this out. Alexa, turn on Connor’s lights.” Overhead, the lights turned on. Then a voice coming from the dresser said, “Okay.”
Confused, Walt looked up to the ceiling light. “Who was that? What did you just do?”
“See, I’m almost as good as you and Marie,” Lily boasted while Ian rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor with his son.
Danielle glanced over to Lily and cocked her brows. “I can’t believe you got one of those.”
Walt frowned.
“Yep. Now watch this. Alexa, play nursery rhymes,” Lily said.
The voice from the dresser said something before nursery rhymes began playing.
Lily laughed and said, “Alexa, stop.”
“You told me you would never get one of those things. Said something about them being able to listen to you,” Danielle said.
“Ah, now I remember what that is,” Walt said, pleased with himself he had figured it out.
Lily shrugged. “I just got one for this room. I figure they won’t be getting any state secrets from the nursery.” She looked at Walt and asked, “This couldn’t pick up Marie’s voice, could it?”
“No. It’s not sound waves like a voice from a living person,” Walt explained.
Lily nodded. “That’s what I figured.”
“Why did you get it?” Danielle asked.
“I decided it would be convenient when my hands are full with Connor. Turning lights on, listening to music or having it read to me. I haven’t checked all its features yet,” Lily said.
Wilbur opened his eyes and looked up to the sky. Disoriented, he wasn’t sure where he was—or what day of the week it might be. Blinking several times, he awkwardly sat up and looked around at his surroundings. It surprised him to find himself stretched out on the beach. He looked behind him and spied a row of houses. In front of him was the ocean, its waves breaking on shore before retreating in a steady rhythm. It was then he noticed it, the gunnysack, washed up on shore a short distance from where he now sat. It was the reason he was here.
He remembered now. Beau. Beau had tried to kill him. He wasn’t sure why. None of it had made any sense. They had a deal, and Wilbur had been more than generous. Now, he needed to get somewhere safe, find another hiding place, until he could work it all out. He stood up and glanced around. The beach was virtually empty save for a guy running down the shore in his direction.
Wilbur considered retrieving the gunnysack but decided it best to leave it until he figured out where he was going. The last thing he needed was to have someone question the bag and ask to see inside. How could he explain any of it? Especially since he didn’t understand himself.
He silently observed the runner. It wasn’t one of Beau’s men, of that he was fairly certain, and he didn’t see where he could carry a gun. Finally, he turned his back to the man and started walking toward the houses. Perhaps he might find someone who would help him.
He had walked a short distance when pounding feet on the sand and heavy breathing caught his attention. Turning to the sound, it surprised him to find the runner barreling toward him, and he didn’t appear to be slowing down or about to change course.
“Hey, look out!” Wilbur shouted. In the next moment the man ran straight through Wilbur’s body, continuing south down the beach without breaking stride.
Wilbur stood speechless for a few minutes, watching the runner’s back as he continued down the beach.
“It was another ghost!” Wilbur blurted. “Another damn ghost!”
Wilbur didn’t understand any of it. He had never seen ghosts before, not until Beau had tried killing him. But Wilbur had survived the attack, nursed himself back to health, and since that time had seen ghosts. He had read about the phenomenon of acquiring a gift after experiencing a traumatic event. But this was one gift he would rather not have.
“People will think I’m crazy,” he muttered under his breath. “If I’m to convince anyone what Beau has done, I can’t tell them I see ghosts.”
While pondering his current situation, he failed to notice a second runner coming in his direction. It was not until he heard more pounding feet on the sand did he turn toward the runner. This one was a woman, with long black braids, each bouncing up and down as she made her way toward him.
Preparing to jump out of the runner’s way should it be another ghost; relief washed over him when she took a det
our around him and flashed him a smile and said, “Good morning.”
He returned the smile and said hello as she continued on her way, in the same direction as the ghost runner. Relieved it wasn’t another spirit, he continued on to the houses, hoping to find someone who could help him. Wilbur was about six feet from one house when its back door opened, and out walked a man wearing a blue baseball cap with a large red C on its crown. The man stood in the doorway, holding the door open, looking in Wilbur’s direction with a smile.
Believing the man looked trustworthy, and willing to give it a shot, Wilbur said, “Excuse me, I’m in trouble. Can you help me?”
The man said nothing, but held the door open wider, as if inviting him inside.
Wilbur flashed the man a smile in silent thanks and quickly ducked into the house. He was about five feet down the hallway when the man yelled, “Sadie! Come on!”
The next moment a large golden dog came running down the hallway, stopping a moment to look at him.
Wilbur glanced down at the dog and thought it looked friendly and nonthreatening, yet he had the strangest sensation the dog had just asked, “Who are you?”
The next moment the man holding the door open called out, “Sadie, come!”
The dog quickly lost interest in Wilbur and continued on its way, running out the back door. The next moment the door shut, and Wilbur found himself alone in the hallway. Somewhat confused, Wilbur continued down the hall and then heard voices. He looked into what appeared to be a living room. There was a petite redhead holding a baby, a brunette standing next to her, and a man…Walt Marlow!
Wilbur immediately recognized Walt Marlow. His eyes widened.
I can’t let Marlow see me, he thought. Fortunately, none of them noticed him standing in the hallway entrance.
Spinning around, he started back down the hallway when he spied the door he had initially entered opening. Not sure what to do, Wilbur darted through the first open doorway. It was a baby’s nursery. In a panic, he looked around and spied a closet, its door partially open. He ran to the closet and dived in. Wilbur huddled in its dark corner, once again terrified.
Wilbur had no idea how long he had been in the closet when a woman’s voice broke the silence. Peeking out into the nursery from the closet, he spied the redhead carrying the baby.
“Alexa, turn on Connor’s light,” she said.
The next moment the overhead light went on, and a woman’s voice said, “Okay.”
Wilbur glanced around the room, looking for this Alexa. He saw no one but the redhead and baby.
He watched as she changed the baby’s diaper and put him down in the crib.
The redhead said, “Alexa, play lullabies.”
Alexa said something and then music began playing.
“Alexa, turn the volume down,” the redhead said.
The music’s volume lowered.
The redhead leaned over the crib and kissed the baby. Standing back up, she said, “Alexa, turn off Connor’s light.”
The overhead light turned off, and again the invisible woman said, “Okay.”
Trembling in fear, Wilbur watched as the redhead left the nursery, shutting the door behind her and leaving him alone with the baby and Alexa.
This place is haunted, Wilbur thought as he huddled farther into the dark corner. But this Alexa ghost is invisible and has powers. That’s much worse than the others.
Five
On Friday evening, the friends on Beach Drive gathered at the Bartleys’ for a barbecue. It included Walt, Danielle, Chris, Heather, and a few who did not live on Beach Drive, such as Adam and Melony, and Ian’s sister, Kelly, along with her boyfriend, Officer Joe Morelli. Ian and Lily had invited the chief and his sons, but they had somewhere else they needed to go.
Ian and Walt had arranged extra folding chairs on the back patio before their friends arrived. Walt sat in one chair, drinking a cold beer, when Sadie came to sit by his side. She looked up at him. Their eyes met. They were still staring at each other when Danielle took the empty seat next to Walt, a glass of wine in her hand.
“You and Sadie having a pleasant chat?” she asked.
Turning to his wife, Walt whispered, “Have you seen any ghost around here?”
“You mean Eva or Marie?” Danielle asked.
Walt shook his head. “No. A man. A stranger. Sadie saw someone in the house earlier.”
Danielle glanced to Ian and Lily’s house, then back to Walt. “What man?”
Walt shrugged. “It was when Ian took Sadie outside when we were here this morning. He was in the hallway, and from what Sadie picked up, he was looking for someone to help him.”
Danielle looked to the house again and back to Walt. “You think he’s still in there?”
“If he is, I would think one of us would have seen him.”
Danielle motioned to Chris, who stood next to the barbecue grill, talking to Ian. A moment later, Chris walked over to them. Walt asked him about the mystery ghost.
“I walked through their house, didn’t see anyone other than the regulars,” Chris said, keeping his voice low so the non-mediums wouldn’t hear. “I would have said something if I had seen someone out of place. But if that was this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever it was moved on already. Sometimes that happens. A spirit pops in, lost and confused, and then disappears, never to be seen again. But I’ll ask Heather.”
Walt and Danielle watched as Chris walked to Heather, who stood talking to Kelly. Chris pulled her aside for a moment and whispered in her ear. Heather looked over to Walt and Danielle and shook her head, no.
“I don’t want to freak Lily. Let’s not say anything to her,” Danielle told Walt as Chris walked back to the grill, and Heather resumed her conversation with Kelly.
“No reason to. You’re right, it would just upset her,” Walt agreed.
Since Chris and Ian grilled, the others cleaned up after dinner, while Ian and Chris took their dogs out on the beach to play Frisbee. With so many hands pitching in, it didn’t take long to finish and return to the back patio and enjoy more beer and wine while snacking on the pan of brownies Danielle had contributed. Danielle eventually took a seat next to Walt on the patio while their friends walked out to the beach. They watched their friends playing Frisbee. The only ones not playing were Lily and Kelly, who sat on a beach blanket—a safe distance away from the Frisbee players—with Connor, who played with a plastic bucket and shovel.
“Do you want to join them?” Danielle asked Walt, nodding to the Frisbee players.
Reaching out, he brushed his fingers down the side of her face and said, “I feel like sitting a bit, if you don’t mind. I’m a little tired. I’m afraid I didn’t get much sleep last night after Max told me about our intruders. But if you want to go play…”
Danielle shook her head and leaned closer to Walt, resting her head against his shoulder. “No. I didn’t get much sleep last night myself.” She and Walt stared out to the beach while their friends threw a Frisbee, and Hunny and Sadie did their best to snatch it from one of the humans.
“I threw a Frisbee once, in my first life.”
She turned to look at him. “They had Frisbees back then?”
Walt grinned.
“Oh, you mean you threw some disk around that looks like a Frisbee?” Danielle asked.
“No. It was a Frisbee. But they spelled it differently,” Walt explained.
Danielle frowned. “What do you mean spelled differently?”
“I visited a friend once when I was in college. He lived in Connecticut, where he attended university, not far from the Frisbie Pie Company. I believe they spelled it f-r-i-s-b-i-e instead of two e’s. His friends used to make a game out of tossing around one of the empty pie tins. Not much different from what they’re doing out on the beach right now. But before throwing the tin, it was protocol to shout Frisbie to give others notice of the incoming missile.”
“You’re making that up,” Danielle accused.
Wal
t shook his head. “No. When Chris first brought a Frisbee home for Hunny, it reminded me of my friend in Connecticut. Curious to discover if there was any connection, I did a little research online. One article said the pie-tin-tossing game inspired today’s Frisbee, yet claimed the story was unproven. But I was there. I know it was true.”
Danielle grinned. “I like that story. Even if it isn’t true.”
“But it is,” Walt insisted.
Danielle leaned closer and kissed Walt’s cheek. She looked back to where her friends tossed the Frisbee around on the beach.
They hadn’t noticed it before—none of them had—the gunnysack that had washed up on the beach earlier that morning. The surf had pushed it up behind some rocks, concealing it from view. But the surf had since dragged it away from the rocks, sending it down the shore a couple of hundred yards before pushing it back on the sand.
Hunny saw it first and abandoned the Frisbee that had just flown over her head to Joe. A moment later Sadie spied Hunny running toward the surf and wondered what she was chasing. No longer interested in the Frisbee, Sadie ran after her canine pal.
Chris’s attention moved from the Frisbee in Joe’s hand to the two dogs racing to the ocean, ready to pounce on some debris that had washed up on shore. He let out a sigh and took off jogging toward the dogs, not wanting them to tear up its unknown contents. Toxic and questionable material occasionally washed up on shore.
Moments after Chris took off, Ian saw where he was going. Sharing Chris’s concern, Ian ran toward the dogs. The rest of the friends stopped playing the game and watched Chris and Ian.
Hunny reached the bag first and took hold of one end, dragging it up the beach. Sadie joined her a moment later and grabbed the other end. By the time Chris and Ian reached their dogs, the canines were engaged in a lively tug-of-war, doing their best to tear open the bag and spill whatever contents it had on the sand.
