The Ghost and the Leprechaun

by Anna J. McIntyre

“Interesting,” Walt murmured. “Considering its past residents, those would be some evil ghosts.”

  Adam shrugged. “Not that exactly. No one has come up with a project for the land that anyone is committed to carrying out. I suppose part of it is the stigma attached to the property.”

  “I find it interesting they closed it down and didn’t do anything with the property all those years before it burned down,” Lily murmured.

  “I’m curious, ask why they closed it down,” Walt asked Danielle.

  “Do you have any idea why they closed it down in the first place?” Danielle asked Adam and Melony.

  “My mother said something about one of the nurses there being murdered by a patient. He escaped, but they caught him before anyone else was hurt. I guess the city was up in arms about it, so they forced them to close it down and move the patients to other facilities around the state. Of course, this was even before Mom was born, so I’m not sure how accurate the story is,” Melony explained.

  “Interesting. I might go down to the museum and see if I can find an article about the incident in one of the back issues of the paper,” Danielle said.

  “If you want to learn more about Marymoor, you might ask Ben if you can look through some of those boxes Bill took over there a couple years ago,” Adam suggested.

  “What boxes?” Danielle asked.

  “After they closed the sanatorium, they moved some of the files over to the city building for storage. A couple years ago, when they were cleaning out the basement, they came across them and decided to shuffle them over to the museum. They hired Bill to take them over there. I don’t think the historical society has done anything with them yet. From what I understand, they’re still sitting in the back room at the museum,” Adam explained.

  “Hmm…maybe they’ll have something on Sean Sullivan,” Danielle murmured.

  “Sean Sullivan? Who’s that?” Adam asked.

  “Just someone Brianna mentioned once,” Danielle lied. “I think he might have been committed to Marymoor.”

  “Sean Sullivan?” Melony said with a frown.

  “Have you heard of him?” Danielle asked.

  “I haven’t heard of him, exactly. But there’s a section at the cemetery where they used to bury residents from Marymoor, those who didn’t have family to claim the bodies. We used to go through there at Halloween.” Melony looked at Adam. “Remember, Adam?”

  “Yeah. We did some stupid things back then.” Adam picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth.

  “I used to read the headstones and make up stories about the people buried there,” Melony told Danielle. “I’m certain one of them was named Sean Sullivan.”

  Twenty-Three

  “So what’s the deal with those two?” Lily asked Danielle. They sat on the front swing, watching Adam drive away, Melony sitting in his passenger seat.

  “When they got here, Mel said they had lunch with Marie.”

  “Interesting,” Lily murmured as she leaned back in the porch swing. “I wonder if Marie is busy making wedding plans.”

  Danielle chuckled. “Maybe. But I can’t figure out if they’re just old pals or something is going on.”

  “They seemed pretty close when she was here for her mother’s funeral.”

  “True.”

  The two young women sat back in the porch swing, the toes of their shoes gently pushing against the ground to keep the swing in motion.

  “Hey, you want to go to the museum with me?” Danielle asked.

  “Weren’t you already there once today? You want to go through the boxes Adam mentioned, don’t you?”

  “I’m curious to see if we can find anything on Sullivan.”

  “Adam didn’t mention how many boxes there were, did he? I mean, sounds like that place was open for a long time. Might take hours to find something, if it’s even possible.”

  “I’d assume all the files for patients that were transferred after it closed were sent along to whatever facilities they were sent to,” Danielle told her. “And if Melony is right, Sean Sullivan wasn’t transferred to another facility. He died here.”

  “True, Dani. But that could still be a lot of files.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the boxes are dated. We can look for anything after the time Walt died.”

  “You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?” Lily groaned.

  “It will be faster if you go with me.”

  “Okay, but first call Ben. I don’t want to drive all the way down there if he won’t let us go through the boxes.”

  Instead of responding to Lily, Danielle sat up for a moment and pulled her cellphone from her pocket. Sitting back on the swing, she dialed Ben’s phone number.

  “He said we can,” Danielle told Lily when she got off the phone with Ben a few minutes later. “And we’re in luck, the boxes have dates on them.”

  “Oh goody,” Lily said dryly as she stood up from the swing.

  Up ahead, Danielle’s red Ford Flex was backing out of the driveway. It stopped, allowing Blake to pull his car in front of Marlow House and park. Just as he and Jeannie were getting out of the car, Danielle pulled up beside him and stopped. Lily was sitting in the passenger seat. They rolled their windows down.

  “Where are you two off to?” Blake asked cheerfully, walking to her car.

  “We’re heading downtown to do some errands. Probably won’t be back for a couple of hours. There’s half a chocolate cake in the kitchen, help yourself,” Danielle told him.

  “Sounds delicious.” Blake grinned.

  “Did you have a nice lunch?” Lily asked.

  “Burgers at the pier. It was pretty good,” Blake told her.

  A few minutes later, Danielle drove off and Blake joined Jeannie on the sidewalk leading up to Marlow House.

  “This is our chance, baby,” Blake said excitedly.

  “You mean we’re finally alone?” Jeannie asked with a grin.

  “According to Danielle, they’ll be gone for a couple of hours. And you don’t see Albert and Nola’s car, do you?”

  “Then let’s do it!”

  Together they hurried toward the front door.

  “While I’m getting the necklace, gather up our stuff and start wiping down the room. I don’t want to leave any fingerprints behind. And make sure you wipe down the banister and all the doorknobs. And the toilet, don’t forget the handle on the toilet!”

  “Okay, okay,” Jeannie said as she used the key Danielle had given her to unlock the front door.

  Walt had just stepped onto the first-floor landing when he heard the door open. He was halfway down the hall when Blake and Jeannie ran through him. Pausing a moment, Walt looked down at his violated body and let out a grunt. He turned and watched the pair head up the staircase.

  “What are you two up to?”

  The next moment, he was at the top of the staircase, watching the couple hurrying in his direction. To avoid another run-through, Walt stepped aside and watched as the pair dashed to their bedroom.

  “Well, if that’s what this is all about, I’m certainly not going to stick around.” In the next moment, Walt was sitting in the living room, the door open, reading the newspaper.

  In the bedroom, Jeannie quickly tossed all their belongings into their suitcase and then grabbed a pillow off the bed. With several shakes, she removed the pillow from its case and began using the case as a dusting rag. In the meantime, Blake organized his tools.

  “One’s missing,” he told her.

  Jeannie paused for a moment and looked at Blake. “What do you mean?”

  “The one I used to get in Danielle’s bedroom earlier. It’s not here.”

  “Where did you put it?” she asked.

  “I thought I put it back with the rest of them.”

  “Obviously you didn’t. It has to be here somewhere,” she said impatiently, once again wiping down the room.

  “I’ll look for it. Maybe it fell under the bed or behind the dresser. You might as well go do
wnstairs and start wiping down anything we might have touched down there. I’ll finish this up after I get the necklace.”

  Walt looked up from the newspaper. Someone was coming down the stairs.

  “Well, that was quick.” He tossed the paper on the coffee table and stood up.

  When he walked down the hallway a few minutes later, heading for the library, he was surprised to find Jeannie coming down the staircase, polishing its handrail.

  “Cleaning?” Walt said with a frown.

  He took a closer look. In her hand was what appeared to be a pillowcase, and she was using it to energetically wipe down the handrail.

  Walt shook his head and muttered, “It takes all kinds.”

  Instead of going to the library, Walt decided to head to the attic. On his way up the stairs he passed Jeannie, who continued to wipe the handrail as she made her way to the first floor.

  Stepping onto the second-floor landing, he watched as Blake stepped out of his bedroom, a small tool in his hand.

  “Your wife is cleaning. What are you going to do, go around the house and tighten the screws?” Walt asked with a chuckle. He was about to turn toward the attic stairs when Blake stopped at Danielle’s door. Kneeling, Blake inserted the tool into her lock.

  “What the…?” Walt scowled.

  The next moment, Walt was standing inside Danielle’s room, holding onto her doorknob, making it impossible for Blake to unlock the door. Behind him he heard a meow. Still holding the doorknob, he turned to face the bed. Max sat on it, his tail swishing, as he watched Walt.

  “What are you doing in here, Max?” Walt continued to hold the doorknob.

  Max meowed.

  “I don’t know how you keep slipping in here. Do you think it’s smart to allow yourself to get locked in Danielle’s room?”

  Max meowed again and stretched. Still watching Walt, he rolled over onto his back, pawing the air between him and Walt. Max rolled over again and then sat up. He shook his head and sneezed.

  From the other side of the door, Walt heard Blake curse. He faced the closed door. “Not sure what this guy is up to, Max, but he and his wife are a little peculiar.” Walt continued to secure the door. “Honestly, Max, Danielle would never survive running this bed and breakfast without me. Who would keep the nosey guests from breaking into her room and snooping around?”

  “Aren’t you done yet?” Jeannie asked when she returned upstairs, wrinkled pillowslip in hand.

  Blake, still kneeling before Danielle’s bedroom door, looked up to Jeannie. “I can’t get the damn door open.”

  “What?” she said incredulously. “How in the hell do you expect to get the safe open if you can’t even open the bedroom door. Even I can do that!”

  “Oh yeah?” Blake said angrily. He stood abruptly and shoved the tool into her hand. “You try it.”

  Taking the small tool, Jeannie narrowed her eyes and glared at Blake. Shoving the pillowcase in his now free hand, she marched to Danielle’s door and pressed the thin tool into the lock.

  Blake quietly watched as she fiddled with the lock. After a few moments, she paused and looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Not so easy, is it?” he sneered.

  “What is wrong with it?” she asked.

  “I told you.”

  Jeannie asked Blake a question, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he jerked his head to the right and listened.

  “Damn, someone is here.” Blake rushed to the staircase and looked downstairs. Coming down the hall was Nola and Albert.

  Stumbling to her feet, Jeannie hurried to Blake’s side and looked down to the first floor.

  “Damn, now what?” Jeannie said under her breath.

  “Now we have to wait.”

  “Then don’t touch anything,” Jeannie snapped.

  Blake frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not wiping down this damn house again!” Snatching the pillowcase from Blake’s hand, Jeannie turned abruptly and headed for their bedroom door. Just as she reached it, she turned and marched back to Blake and roughly shoved the tool into his hand.

  “Ouch!” Blake yelped, looking down at his right palm, now red from where Jeannie had just jabbed him. Unconcerned with his minor injury, Jeannie turned again toward their bedroom and marched inside, slamming the door behind her.

  “Hello!” Nola greeted him a moment later, halfway up the staircase, Albert trailing beside her, out of breath.

  Slipping the tool in his pocket, Blake forced a smile. “Afternoon, did you do anything fun?”

  “We drove around. Took a walk on the beach,” Nola told him. “Stopped and had something to eat at a nice little diner in town.”

  “Time for my nap,” Albert said with a yawn.

  “You can nap. I’m going to grab my book and take it downstairs,” Nola said brightly. “Danielle’s not here?”

  “No. She and Lily went out. She said they would be gone for a couple of hours, and that was about thirty minutes ago.”

  Nola flashed Blake a smile and continued to her bedroom.

  Blake turned and tripped over a black cat. The cat hissed and then strolled by Blake, making his way to the first floor.

  Regaining his balance, Blake frowned and looked behind him again. Both Lily’s and Danielle’s bedroom doors were shut. “Where the hell did that cat come from?” he muttered.

  Twenty-Four

  While Walt was busy keeping Blake from breaking in to Danielle’s bedroom, Danielle had taken a detour on the way to the museum. She drove Lily to the one place she would rather avoid—the Frederickport Cemetery.

  “I still don’t understand why we’re stopping here,” Lily said. “Don’t you believe Melony saw a marker with Sullivan’s name on it?”

  Danielle got out of the car and slammed the door shut. She waited for Lily to get out of the car before she answered her question.

  “It’s not that I don’t believe her, but maybe it was someone with a similar name—or maybe it was another Sean Sullivan.”

  “Are you saying Marymoor had more than one Sean Sullivan as a patient?”

  “It’s possible.” Danielle started for the sidewalk while Lily trailed along beside her.

  “And how would we know Melony’s Sullivan is the one you’re looking for?”

  “I suppose there’s no absolute way, but I’d think the dates on the headstone would be a clue. We know he died after Walt did, and we have a general idea of when he was born.”

  Pausing on the sidewalk, Lily asked, “Just where is the Marymoor section?”

  “I’m not sure.” Danielle frowned and glanced around.

  “Maybe you can ask one of your spooks for directions,” Lily suggested.

  “Or maybe I’ll ask him,” Danielle said, pointing to a groundskeeper off in the distance.

  With a reluctant sigh, Lily followed Danielle toward the man.

  “Hello!” Danielle called out when she got within earshot of the groundskeeper.

  Glancing up from the leaves he was sweeping, the man paused and smiled. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for the Marymoor Sanatorium section of the cemetery,” Danielle explained when she reached him.

  Cocking his head, he looked at her quizzically. “The Marymoor section? No one ever visits there.”

  “Can you tell us where it is?” Lily asked.

  “Sure.” Rake in hand, he turned and pointed down the walkway. “You’re going to go down that way until you reach the Marlow crypt. Then turn right, and keep on going. You’ll see the sign. It’s marked and surrounded by its own iron gate. The gate isn’t locked. You can go on in.”

  “Thanks,” Danielle said cheerfully. After she and Lily were about ten feet from the man, Danielle said, “I know the Marlow crypt is located in one of the oldest sections of the cemetery, so it makes sense the Marymoor section would be in that area.”

  “Are we going to run into Angela?” Lily asked.

  “Lucky for you, you won’t,” Danielle said wi
th a snort. “But I doubt even I will. She wasn’t buried in the Marlow crypt, and if we keep on this trail, we won’t go by her headstone. That’s where she seems to hang out.”

  They continued to walk, the caretaker no longer in sight. June’s afternoon sun shone brightly and only a smattering of white clouds dotted the sky. Glancing around, Lily couldn’t see any other visitors to the cemetery.

  “Is anyone here?” Lily asked in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t see anyone, do you?”

  “No. I mean…spirits. Any ghosts hanging around?”

  Danielle glanced around and then shook her head. “No. I don’t see any.”

  When they finally reached their destination, they found the iron gate leading to the Marymoor section hanging cockeyed, one hinge missing. Danielle lifted the gate and pushed it open. She and Lily entered.

  In less than five minutes, they found Sean Sullivan’s headstone. Lily was the one to find it. According to the dates on the headstone, he was born several years before Katherine O’Malley and died twelve years after Walt was murdered.

  “Wow, he was pretty young when he died,” Lily muttered. “He wasn’t much older than we are.”

  “To be honest, I was sort of wondering if his spirit would be hanging out here.”

  “Really?”

  Danielle shrugged. “If it was, I could simply ask him who Brianna’s father was.”

  “Ahh, so that’s why you really wanted to stop by here first.”

  Danielle smiled. “I figured it would be quicker than sorting through musty old files. I know you don’t really want to do that.”

  “If he’s not here…” Lily glanced around the quiet cemetery. “If none of them are here, does that mean they’ve moved on?”

  “Not necessarily. Marymoor residents were…well…mentally unstable. It’s my personal belief—although I have no real facts to back it up—that someone who has mental issues in life has a more difficult time moving to the next level. I’m not saying they can’t, but it’s harder to focus on the light.”

  “So there really is a light?”

  Daniella shrugged.