by Bobbi Holmes
“Some things never change,” Danielle said with a snort as she picked up a menu and opened it.
“Have you learned anything new about what they found?” Walt asked.
Before the chief answered the question, the server showed up at the table and took their drink orders. When she left, Danielle repeated Walt’s question.
“The remains belong to a man,” the chief explained. “Cause of death, he was shot.”
“How do you know?” Danielle asked.
“The bullet lodged in the skull was the first clue.”
“There was a bullet in the skull?” Danielle frowned. “No one mentioned that, but most of us didn’t look that closely. Once your team showed up, they asked us to keep our distance.”
“Any idea how long he’s been dead?” Walt asked.
“No. But the bag wasn’t in the ocean for more than a few days,” the chief began.
Danielle nodded and said, “Brian mentioned something about the condition of the bag, that it didn’t look like it had been in the water for long.”
“More than the condition of the bag told us how long it had been in the water. The bag had a tag inside. It’s a new company, just made its first delivery to Frederickport a little over a week ago. Brian’s working on tracking who purchased any,” the chief explained.
“Brian said a body can decompose down to skeletal remains in a month under the right conditions. Do you have any missing person report for a man in the last couple of months?”
“I have a hunch his death occurred longer than a few months ago,” the chief said.
“Why do you say that?” Walt asked.
“Because of the bullet in the skull. It’s from a .35 Smith and Wesson center-fire cartridge,” the chief explained.
“What does that mean?” Danielle asked. “I’m not a gun person.”
“They stopped making them in the 1920s. In fact, if you can find any, they’re considered a collector’s item.”
“So either someone shot this guy almost a hundred years ago, or they used an antique gun and a valuable bullet to do it?” Danielle asked.
“Unfortunately, it’s difficult to determine when our victim died. It might have been a couple of months ago—or a hundred years ago. And the only reason the coroner identified the bullet so quickly, he’s a collector and owns a .35 Smith and Wesson.”
“Is the coroner our killer?” Danielle teased.
“Since meeting you, Danielle, I’ve learned anything is possible,” the chief said.
Beau Stewart stood on the sidewalk and opened the door to Lucy’s Diner. He held it open for his wife as she entered the building, before following her in. Once inside, he glanced around, looking for somewhere to sit. The sign up front said “seat yourself.” He spied the Marlows sitting with Police Chief MacDonald, and a few booths down from them was an empty table. There was also an empty table in the opposite direction, but he wanted an opportunity to talk to the Marlows and the police chief. Placing his palm along the spine of his wife’s back, he nodded in the direction he wanted to go, gently nudging her that way. She flashed him a smile before taking his lead.
Once he arrived at the Marlows’ table, he stopped to say hello and introduce his wife to Walt and Danielle.
“We met the other night,” Beau explained.
“Yes, you’re one of Adam’s clients,” Danielle said with a smile.
“I’d like you to meet my wife, Francine,” Beau introduced. They exchanged greetings, and it became clear to Danielle the chief had already met the Stewarts.
“I understand you’re staying at one of Adam’s rentals. Are you renovating your new property here and moving to Frederickport full time?” Danielle knew they weren’t planning to move to Frederickport, but she was just trying to make conversation.
“Yes and no,” Francine said. “It’s a beautiful piece of land, but the buildings…” She gave an exaggerated shiver. “And no, Frederickport will be a vacation home. Our children will love it.”
“How old are your kids?” Danielle asked.
Francine laughed. “I imagine about your age.”
Before Danielle responded, Beau asked the chief, “What is this I hear about human remains washing up on the beach?”
“A gunnysack filled with human bones washed up north of the pier,” the chief said.
“I read the article,” Francine said. “Horrible. Have you been able to identify the poor person?”
“It’ll be a while before the tests are back,” the chief explained.
“I don’t even want to think about it!” Francine shivered. She looked at Danielle and said, “I understand you’re having a fundraiser on the fourth, for the Humane Society.”
“We are. I hope you can make it,” Danielle said with a smile.
“Is it true it includes a tour of Marlow House? I was heartbroken when I heard it was no longer a B and B. I would have loved to have stayed there while we’re in town.”
“Yes, it includes a tour,” Danielle told her.
“We’ll be there!” Francine said. “I can’t wait to see inside.”
“I imagine Adam told you they bought that run-down place outside of town, about a half a mile from where that house burned down last year,” the chief said when the Stewarts left their table and were out of earshot.
“You mean the one with the broken-down red barn?” Danielle asked.
“Yes.”
“He didn’t mention where exactly, just that it was owned by Beau’s cousin,” Danielle said. “If the Stewarts have money, I’m surprised they bought that place. It’s not even walking distance to the beach unless you want a good hike. I’d think for a vacation home, you’d want something closer to the beach,” Danielle said.
“From what I’ve heard, that land has been in the same family for years. I think that’s the actual reason Stewart bought it, to keep it in the family. But his wife is right, the buildings are in dreadful condition. In fact, the city was getting ready to condemn the property.”
“I thought the cousin sold it because he’s ill?” Walt asked.
“He is,” the chief said before adding, “From what I understand, Stewart initially went to his cousin when he heard the city was getting pressure to do something about that property. He even helped him work out an arrangement with the city, allowing him to sell it, providing the new owners agreed to clean up the land within two years. But then the cousin’s adult children got involved, and they convinced their father to list the property. Stewart ended up with it anyway, at the same price he initially offered.”
Eight
Every time Wilbur tried slipping from the nursery to leave the house, someone walked down the hall. One time he was sure the man with the blue baseball cap had seen him, but he walked by, apparently so engrossed in his thoughts he failed to see the stranger standing in his hallway. But it was the dog Wilbur did his best to avoid.
Wilbur did not understand how long he had been in the nursery closet. He had left it many times trying to escape the house holding him hostage, but each time he retreated to the sanctuary. He looked from his hideout out into the nursery, through a pair of half-closed closet doors. The baby slept peacefully in his crib. The mother, or at least who Wilbur assumed was the mother, had come in several times, and each time summoned up that ghost Alexa to do her bidding. Perhaps the redhead was a witch, Wilbur wondered. He had heard there were some witches living on the north side of Frederickport. Was it possible Alexa was not a ghost, but a demon, a demon the redheaded witch used for her own wicked means? The thought gave Wilbur chills.
Retreating into a dark corner, he sat glumly, asking himself how he had gotten into this mess. Inheriting that property had caused him nothing but grief. Had his sister been right all along? If he could contact his sister, would she even help him now?
He heard something in the nursery and peeked out into the room. The baby was no longer sleeping but now standing up in the crib, holding onto the railing and bouncing up and down while giggling.
Easing from the closet, Wilbur stood up and crept to the crib. When the baby noticed him approaching, he broke into a smile instead of crying, which pleased Wilbur.
“Hello, little man,” Wilbur whispered.
The baby gurgled, his eyes bright, as he clung to the crib rail and continued to bounce.
“You are such an innocent thing,” Wilbur said, glancing quickly to the closed bedroom door, back to the baby. “I need to protect you. I’m sure you love your mama, but I don’t think she’s considering your best interest, dabbling in the supernatural.”
He wondered if someone was listening to him. Was it possible Alexa watched him? Mustering his courage for the sake of the baby, he said, “Alexa, are you there? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, turn on the light.”
Nothing happened, and Wilbur felt a flood of relief. Had he been able to summon the demon—or ghost—then what? He wanted to make sure this Alexa wasn’t lingering nearby.
“My sister may not want to help me, but she would never turn her back on an innocent baby,” he whispered to the drooling child. He heard someone turn the doorknob. Without thought, he pivoted to the closet and raced for cover. Once again hidden, he heard the door open and the woman’s voice.
“Connor, you’re awake!” she said cheerfully. “Alexa, turn on Connor’s light.” From his closet sanctuary, Wilbur saw the glow from the room’s overhead light.
“Okay,” said Alexa.
The next moment the dog, who had followed the redhead into the bedroom, stuck his head into the closet and looked at Wilbur. The dog barked.
“Sadie, what are you barking at?” the redhead’s voice asked.
Moving farther into the closet and hiding behind a box of toys, Wilbur prayed the woman would not see him. The dog barked again, and Wilbur had the insane notion the dog had just asked, “Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”
The closet door slid open the rest of the way, and the woman peeked inside. “What are you barking at, Sadie? I hope it isn’t a mouse. Dang, why did Ian have to go to Vancouver today? Come on, I’m taking you to see Walt and find out once and for all what your problem is.”
The woman dragged the dog from the closet and shut its door, leaving it open half an inch. Wilbur peeked out into the room. The dog was nowhere in sight. He suspected she had put him out into the hallway. He watched as she changed the baby’s diaper and clothes, and then picked him up, leaving the room.
Was she also leaving the house? he wondered. Was this his chance to get away? He started to open the closet door and found himself standing in the nursery. He looked back at the barely open closet door. Scratching his head in confusion, he stared at the door a moment and mumbled, “How did I squeeze through that small opening?” With a shrug, he turned toward the bedroom window. When he reached it, he peeked outside and spied the redhead walking across the street. She carried the baby in her arms, with the big golden dog by her side.
“Good, they’re leaving,” he said aloud. Considering what she had said about someone named Ian going to Vancouver, he assumed he was now alone in the house.
Hurrying, he reached for the bedroom door, and in the next moment he stood in the hallway. He didn’t give much thought to the fact he didn’t remember opening the bedroom door to get out of the room, but crazy things like that had been happening lately. Running down the hallway toward the door he had initially entered, he didn’t stop to open it and found himself standing outside again, looking out to the ocean.
He remembered the gunnysack. “I have to find that bag,” he told himself. “Then I can go to my sister.”
When Lily arrived at Walt and Danielle’s house a few minutes later, Danielle answered the front door.
“How did Walt’s thing with the book club go?” Lily asked as she followed Danielle to the parlor.
“It was nice. I thought it was just for the book club, but I guess they had flyers up at the library, opening it to the public,” Danielle said.
“Yeah, right. Walt didn’t want us to go,” Lily said as she entered the parlor.
“I didn’t want you to go where?” Walt asked from where he sat on one of the parlor chairs, a book in hand.
“Your presentation today,” Lily said as she walked all the way in the room with Connor.
“I thought Ian had to go to Vancouver today?” Danielle asked.
“He did. I was teasing,” Lily said as she struggled with a wiggling Connor in her arms. Now almost ten months old, he was difficult to carry for an extended period.
Walt set his book on the end table and put out his arms. “Why don’t you give me the little guy?”
“I need you to talk to Sadie first.” Lily sat on the sofa, plopping the baby on her lap. He leaned back on his mother’s chest and began examining his hands while making fists.
“What’s going on?” Danielle asked, taking a seat on the sofa with Lily. She reached out and tickled the baby, who climbed off his mother’s lap and into Danielle’s arms.
“Sadie’s acting weird. I think there might be a mouse in the nursery. Can you please talk to her, Walt? See why she’s barking at the closet. Do I need to borrow Max or something?”
Danielle chuckled. “Max might like that.”
Walt looked down at Sadie, who was already sitting at his side.
“Well, girl, what’s the problem?” Walt asked. “Lily tells me you have been—” Walt stopped talking and stared at the dog. After a moment he said, “The same one?”
“The same one what?” Lily asked.
Walt let out a sigh and looked over to Lily. “Danielle and I need to go over to your house and check out that closet.”
“What do you mean?” Lily asked.
“Oh…I think I know,” Danielle muttered.
Lily frowned at her friend. “Know what, Dani?”
“I’m afraid there’s a ghost hanging out at your house,” Walt said.
“I assume you’re not talking about Marie or Eva?” Lily asked.
“It’s a man. Sadie first noticed him yesterday morning in your hallway. She mentioned it to me last night.”
“And why didn’t you tell me?” Lily screeched.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Danielle explained. “Sadie saw him once yesterday morning, and no one else did. Chris said it was probably just a spirit who was passing through and got lost. It happens sometimes.”
“No one saw him because he has obviously been hiding in the nursery closet. In Connor’s room!” Lily said.
“It doesn’t sound like he has any powers,” Walt said.
“Powers or not, I don’t want some creepy man hanging around my son! I don’t care if he is dead!” Lily blurted.
Walt stood up. “Okay, we’ll go over there, check it out. You stay here. Keep Sadie with you, that way she can let you know if he shows up here.”
“Wonderful!” Lily cried. “Now he’s stalking us!”
“Walt didn’t say that. Calm down, Lily. We’ll go check out your house,” Danielle said.
They searched the nursery closet first and found no ghost. After the nursery they went through the entire house, looking in closets, behind furniture, anywhere a ghost might hide.
“Perhaps he’s here and playing ghost hide-and-seek,” Danielle suggested.
“I wondered that myself. Slipping through walls as we enter a room.”
“One way to catch a ghost—have extra eyes watching,” Danielle said.
Walt nodded in agreement. Danielle pulled out her phone and called Chris and Heather. It was Saturday; they should both be home.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Chris and Heather showed up at the Bartleys’ house. Strategically the four mediums moved through every room yet did not find the mystery spirit.
“I bet he’s on the roof, laughing his butt off at us,” Heather said after they exhausted their search. They stood in the Bartley living room.
“Or we could just do this,” Chris said. His friends looked at him. Chris shouted to the room, “Come, show
yourself! We know you’re here! We just want to help! The dog saw you hiding in the baby’s room! The dog saw you! We can help you! Show yourself!”
They all waited quietly. Nothing happened.
“Gee, that worked,” Heather said with a snort.
Chris shrugged. “It was worth a try.”
“All I can do at this point is have a talk with Sadie. If he shows up again, she’ll tell Lily so we can come right over,” Walt said.
“And how are you going to do that?” Heather asked. “It’s not like Sadie communicates with Lily like she does you.”
“I’ll work something out,” Walt said.
“It would be nice if Marie came back,” Danielle said. “I assumed she would have at least popped in to say hello by now, since Walt and I are back from our vacation.”
“The production runs through the fourth, and after Eva invited Marie along, Lily talked her into going. She thought it would be fun for Marie,” Heather explained.
“And how did Lily do that?” Danielle asked, knowing Lily could not see or hear Marie.
“I played interpreter for Marie’s side,” Heather explained with a grin.
“Lily might be regretting that about now,” Chris said. “I imagine she didn’t figure she’d be swapping one ghost for another.”
Nine
Wilbur walked to the end of the pier and sat on an empty bench. Tourists and locals leisurely strolled up and down the pier. A few anglers stood along the railing, tossing their lines to the water below. Some people chatted with friends, and others watched the birds. None seemed to pay Wilbur any notice, which he found comforting. He felt more at peace than he had in a long time, because he had finally freed himself of Beau.
Minutes earlier he had walked by an ice cream shop and café. Both seemed to be fairly busy. He wondered why he wasn’t hungry. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. But that was probably for the best; he didn’t have any money on him.
