Ghost of Halloween Past

by McIntyre, Anna J

  Lily lifted her hand off the paper and smiled at Ian. “Morning.”

  Sadie raced into the house, charging straight for Walt. When she reached him, she sat down and then turned to Ian and started barking.

  Lily and Danielle glanced at the golden retriever and then to Ian. It was then they realized Ian was cradling something in his arms. Whatever it was—it wiggled.

  “What do you have there?” Lily stood up and walked toward Ian.

  “I found this little guy under Danielle’s car. I was afraid she might not see him and run over the poor thing.” Ian held up a squirming calico kitten for them to see.

  “Aww!” Lily and Danielle chorused.

  “A cat? Where did it come from?” Walt asked.

  Sadie continued to stare at the kitten. No longer barking, she let out a low growl.

  “Sadie, shame on you,” Walt scolded. The dog immediately stopped growling and looked up at Walt, cocking her head.

  “It’s only a baby,” Walt told Sadie. “A defenseless kitten. I can’t believe you’d growl!”

  Disgruntled, Sadie flopped on the floor, her chin propped on her paws as she continue to stare at the interloper.

  “Oh, she’s adorable,” Lily gushed, taking the wiggling bundle from Ian.

  “A she?” Danielle asked. “I thought Ian said it was a he?”

  “It’s a calico, has to be a female.” Lily lifted the squirming kitten into the air for a moment and peeked. “Yep, pretty sure it’s a girl kitty.” Once again cradling the kitten in her arms, Lily sat back down at the table.

  “I confess, I didn’t look.” Ian walked to the coffee pot. “But Lily’s right, calicos tend to be females. However, I remember reading that’s not always the case.”

  “Well, it is for this one.” Lily continued to stroke the kitten.

  Ian poured himself a cup of coffee and walked to the table. Lily was about to nudge the empty chair in his direction when he took it anyway, sparing Walt the annoyance of having Ian sit in—or more accurately, through—his lap.

  “I wonder where she came from,” Danielle asked.

  “The way she’s purring in my arms and making herself at home, I don’t think she’s a feral,” Lily noted.

  Danielle leaned toward Lily, wiggled her fingers over the kitten’s head for a moment, and then leaned back in her chair. “I’ve never noticed any cats in the neighborhood.”

  “She belongs to the new neighbor,” Walt announced.

  Danielle looked at Walt.

  “The one who just moved in two doors down,” Walt explained.

  Danielle frowned at Walt, silently asking, how do you know?

  Taking a guess at Danielle’s unvoiced question, he said, “Because she told me, of course. Her name is Bella, by the way. She snuck out to explore her new neighborhood, ended up in your yard; when it started drizzling, she sought refuge under your car. She was quite relieved to be rescued by Ian, but she would like to go home now.” Walt glanced over at Sadie. “I think Sadie would like her to go home now too.”

  “Really? She said all that?” Danielle murmured under her breath.

  “Who said what?” Ian frowned.

  “There Dani goes again, talking to herself.” Lily smirked, looking to what appeared to be an empty seat—where she assumed Walt sat.

  Walt gave Danielle a nod and explained, “Really. She’s quite the chatty cat. But Sadie isn’t thrilled to share her turf with someone of the feline persuasion.”

  “I’ve considered getting a cat,” Danielle said, raising her voice above a murmur.

  Sadie’s head jerked up; she looked at Danielle.

  “A cat? Really? I sort of saw you as a dog person,” Lily said, still cuddling the kitten.

  “I had a cat when I was a little girl.”

  “Well, this little girl looks like she could use a home,” Lily said.

  “Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I know where she came from,” Danielle said.

  Lily looked up. “Where?”

  Danielle flashed Walt a smile. “We have a new neighbor, two doors down. I bet this little girl belongs there.”

  “If she doesn’t, can we keep her?” Lily asked.

  Sadie let out a grunt, stood up, and started walking in a circle before flopping back down, her back to the kitten. Resting her chin on her front paws, she closed her eyes.

  “Ian, did you see the morning newspaper yet?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t get the paper, remember. I steal Danielle’s.” He snatched the newspaper from the table and opened it to the front page. “What the —”

  “Exactly,” Danielle said before Ian could finish his sentence.

  “Dani seems to think they may have made it out of the country already.”

  “It’s possible they’ve all ready slipped over the border into Canada. It’s the most logical place for them to go, closer than Mexico,” Ian suggested. “After all, if they make it to Canada and are later captured, Canada would probably require the death penalty be taken off the table before they can be extradited.”

  “I still don’t understand why they let the guys out on bail.” Lily shook her head in disgust.

  “Bail was set high, and they were both able to make it,” Ian said. “For some reason the judge must not have felt they were a flight risk or a danger to society.”

  “I guess the judge didn’t take into account Christiansen had me at gunpoint,” Danielle grumbled.

  “I imagine about now the judge—not to mention the DA—doesn’t see this as their finest hour.” Ian continued to look over the article.

  Lily glanced at the newspaper in Ian’s hand. “So neither of you feel we need to be concerned about this?”

  “Obviously, I’m not thrilled. The man did try to kill me. But I’d think his first priority would be to put miles between himself and this place.”

  “I have to agree with Danielle on that.” Ian tossed the paper back onto the table. “Of course, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start exercising a bit more caution around here. Such as keeping the doors locked.” Ian looked over at the kitchen door he had recently entered.

  “You have a point.” Danielle glanced over at Walt. She had learned from past experience that having a resident ghost didn’t always protect her from unwanted intruders.

  Walt frowned. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

  The kitten stopped purring and began meowing. Now standing up on Lily’s lap, she looked around for a way to jump down.

  “I think someone is ready to go home,” Danielle said.

  “Either that or she’s looking for a litter box,” Ian snickered.

  Danielle stood up. “Here, let me take her.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” Lily handed the kitten to Danielle.

  “I’m going to see if she belongs to our new neighbor,” Danielle explained as she took the kitten and headed to the back door.

  Chapter Three

  Millie Samson tugged the front of her terrycloth robe closed and tightened its belt before opening the front door. She had no desire to expose her nightgown to the neighborhood. She had called the police ten minutes earlier, yet assumed she had time to get dressed. She was wrong.

  When she opened the front door, she found Sargent Joe Morelli standing on the porch. Opening the door wider, she stepped outside and pointed across the street, to the old boarded up house three doors down.

  “It’s started already, Joe. And Halloween isn’t for another week. I’ve put up with it since I moved to this neighborhood because I figured it was just one night out of the year, but each year it starts earlier and earlier. This is ridiculous.” Yellow plastic rollers, held in place by Millie’s blue-gray hair, bobbed erratically as she punctuated her point, waving her hand in the direction of the offending property.

  Joe glanced over to the Presley house. “What happened this time?”

  “Someone’s been in there. I noticed a light coming from inside. And since that house doesn’t have t
he electricity turned on, I have to assume someone was in there with a flashlight. It kept going off and on.”

  “You mean like they were walking around the room?”

  “No, like they were standing in one place, turning a flashlight off and on. Probably some kids thinking they were playing Morse code.”

  “Which window?”

  “The only window in the house that isn’t boarded up. And about that, isn’t there anything the city can do? It’s terrible for the neighborhood. Each year some kids break another window and the property owners respond by boarding up the window instead of making repairs.”

  “I suppose they don’t want to keep buying new windows for kids to break.”

  “And isn’t that your job? To keep hooligans from destroying personal property.”

  “Yes,” Joe said with a sigh, looking back to the Presley house. “Each year around Halloween we try to patrol this neighborhood more frequently. When was it you saw the light?”

  “Last night.” Millie wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her robe tightly to her body.

  “Why didn’t you call last night? I’m sure whoever broke in is gone by now.”

  “I would have, but I was on the way to the museum, we had a docent meeting last night. I noticed it when I drove by the house. You wouldn’t have wanted me to use my cell phone while I was driving, would you? That’s dangerous.”

  “Maybe when you got to the museum?” Joe suggested.

  “I’m afraid I forgot about it. Didn’t remember until I got up this morning. Called right away so I wouldn’t forget again.”

  “Well, we do appreciate you for calling. I’ll go have a look and see if anything’s been disturbed. But I’m sure it was just some of the local teenagers, getting into the Halloween spirit.”

  “Halloween spirit? Breaking and entering?”

  Joe smiled sheepishly. “You are right, of course, breaking and entering is never the right thing to do. But I’m afraid Halloween tends to bring out the pranksters who love to fuel that old story about Presley House being haunted.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “Like I said, I’ll go check it out, see if anything has been disturbed. When I get back to the station I’ll have a talk with the chief about starting those extra patrols sooner than normal.”

  Five minutes later, Sargent Morelli pulled his squad car up to Presley House and parked. After making a call to the station to let them know he would be checking out the property, he got out of his vehicle and looked up the street to the Samson house. Millie remained standing on her porch, watching him. When their eyes met, Millie waved. Joe smiled and returned the wave, then turned back to Presley House and made his way to its front gate.

  Pausing at the gate, Joe stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the weathered Victorian house. It was really a shame, he thought, that the owners of the property had virtually abandoned the house. From what he knew, Frederickport Vacation Properties was responsible for maintaining the property, yet it didn’t appear they did much, aside from board up broken windows each Halloween. From what he could tell, there was just one window left to be broken.

  Even without the boarded up windows it was obvious the house was vacant. Weeds had overtaken the yard and several dying trees begged to be removed. He had to agree with Millie; the city really needed to do something about the property.

  Joe opened the front gate and started up the walk. He was about six feet from the house when he noticed the front door was ajar. Normally, he wouldn’t be overly concerned about the open door of the vacant house, considering the time of year and the house’s history. But there were two escaped fugitives to consider, although he doubted they were still in the area. He also couldn’t imagine they would leave the front door open, should they be hiding out in the vacant house.

  Joe then remembered another old house he had investigated during the past summer—Marlow House. That was before he had met Danielle Boatman. She and Lily had gone to Astoria for the morning and Danielle had hired Joe’s brother-in-law to clean up the grounds. His brother-in-law had discovered the front door wide open and had called Joe to check out the house.

  Someone had definitely been inside—and he suspected they were kids, considering the broken window in the library and the croquet set someone had tossed around in the attic. At one time, Danielle claimed Adam Nichols and Bill Jones had been responsible for the break-in, yet he suspected she had since changed her mind, considering her and Adam seemed rather chummy these days.

  Shaking away the memories, Joe looked back up to Presley House. They were probably kids, like with Marlow House, but there was no reason to take any unnecessary chances. Returning to his vehicle, he called for backup.

  Officer Brian Henderson arrived at the scene fifteen minutes later. He pulled behind Joe’s vehicle and parked. Slamming his car door shut as he got out, he walked to Joe. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

  Joe, who was leaning against the hood of his car, stood up straight and said, “It’s not the ghost I’m concerned about.”

  “You seriously think Christiansen and Haston might be here?”

  “Not really, but I didn’t think it would be smart to just barge in.”

  “Okay, let’s check it out,” Brian said as he removed the gun from his holster.

  “It looks as if we’re about to have company,” Harvey told Max.

  Max looked up from the bed. Harvey stood at the bedroom window, peering through the tattered lace curtains. It was the only window in the house that had not been broken.

  “A couple of cops. You better make yourself scarce. If they catch you, you know what will happen,” Harvey said.

  Max quickly got off the bed and retreated to one of his favorite hiding places.

  “I wonder if I should tell them about the body in the basement,” Harvey asked the now empty room. “Or maybe I’ll wait and see if they find it on their own.” Harvey laughed and then decided to make himself scarce.

  Downstairs, the front door inched open. Gun in hand, Joe cautiously entered and glanced around. All was quiet. There was enough sunlight coming in through the edges of the boarded up windows to see without using a flashlight. Yet, he had one with him just in case he needed it.

  He nodded to Brian, who entered right behind him. They had both been in Presley House on previous Halloweens—under similar circumstances—so they knew their way around the property. Of course, on previous visits there hadn’t been fugitives on the loose. Joe went to the left and Brian to the right.

  The two officers quickly and efficiently checked the first floor. They found no one—nor any evidence someone had recently been in the house. Together they made their way upstairs and checked out the second floor.

  Harvey silently watched the officers move from room to room, looking for intruders. He smiled from his hiding place, confident they would never know he was there—unless he felt the urge to make his presence known.

  Joe entered the bedroom Max had been in just moments earlier. Glancing around the room, he peeked under the bed and then looked in the closet. Just as he turned from the closet to the door leading to the hallway, a light flickered on. With a jerk, he turned toward the light source. It was an old lamp sitting atop a dingy oak dresser. Its lampshade had long since been removed, exposing the lightbulb, which now flickered off and on.

  Joe walked to the lamp and wiggled the bulb; it was loose. After tightening it, he turned off the lamp.

  “I didn’t find anything that seems out of place,” Brian said from the doorway. “Except for a couple broken beer bottles I found on the floor in one of the bedrooms. I’m pretty sure they weren’t there the last time we were here. But by the looks of them they’ve been here for a while.” He then noticed Joe fidgeting with the lamp. “Did you find something?”

  “Maybe the source of the light Millie claimed to have seen. This lamp was on, but the bulb was loose so it kept flickering on and off.”

  “The electricity
is on?” Brian frowned. “I thought it was turned off.”

  “That’s what Millie thought too, but apparently someone had it turned back on. I wonder why.”

  “I suppose it would have to be the owners of the property. Do you think they’re planning to come back?” Brian asked.

  “If so, that will make Millie and the rest of the neighbors happy. This place looks as if it’s ready to fall down, which is a shame.”

  “Let’s wrap this up and get out of here. Whoever it was is obviously gone now.”

  “There is still the basement,” Joe reminded him.

  “Damn. I forgot the house has a basement.”

  From his hiding place, Max watched as the two officers made their way downstairs, heading for the basement. When they were no longer in sight, Max closed his eyes and wondered if he would be forced to leave Presley House. If so, he knew where he would go. Something about that house with the two women fascinated him. If he was careful, they might not even know he had moved in. After all, it was an old house, and old houses typically had ample hiding places.

  By the time Brian and Joe reached the door to the basement, they were convinced the house was empty. Checking out the basement was simply a formality. When Joe opened the door leading to the stairwell, the rusty hinges betrayed the silence. Yet, other than the squeaky hinges, all was quiet. Brian agreed to wait upstairs while Joe checked out the basement.

  There was no sunlight to illuminate the confined space. Joe turned on his flashlight, holding it far from his body. Letting the beam lead the way, he slowly moved down the wooden stairs. They creaked with each step.

  Once in the basement, he moved the flashlight’s beam across the room. It zig zagged along the four walls and back again. The dark space was virtually empty, save for a trunk and some debris scattered about.

  “All’s clear down here!” Joe called out to Brian. In the next moment, Joe heard Brian’s footsteps clomping down the stairs. Brian paused a moment, let out a little curse and then continued on his way.

  “I found the light switch but it doesn’t work,” Brian said when he reached Joe.