“So tell me, if that’s true, where are they all?” Lily swept her hand from right to left, broadly motioning to the headstones.
“For one thing, a confused spirit—like one from a mentally ill patient—may never make it beyond the site of their death. I expect those who haven’t moved on to be lingering closer to where they actually died—like at the site of the sanatorium or at a hospital. Plus, those scary old movies aren’t totally off the mark.”
Lily frowned “What do you mean?”
“Some spirits prefer to come out after the sun goes down. So it’s entirely possible, if we visited this section this evening, there very well could be paranormal activity.”
When Danielle and Lily finally arrived at the museum, Ben showed him to the back storage room. There were too many boxes to haul to the office, so he explained they would have to go through them in the room where they were being kept. Fortunately, there was plenty of light and chairs for them to sit down on.
“He’s right, the boxes are dated,” Danielle told Lily after Ben left them alone.
“Looks like about twenty…maybe thirty boxes?” Lily noted.
Hands on hips, Danielle surveyed the stack of cardboard boxes shoved against the back wall of the storage room. The room itself was filled with random boxes, some open with their contents spilling out, and tables piled with objects and memorabilia donated by locals, some of which would never be used in future exhibits.
Before they had arrived, Ben had cleared off one of the tables located near the boxes from Marymoor, making a place for Danielle and Lily to sort through the files. Instead of opening any of them, Danielle began moving aside those with dates preceding Walt’s death and those dated five years after Sean Sullivan’s. When Lily realized what Danielle was doing, she pitched in to speed up the task. When they were done, there were just three boxes to sort through.
Sitting down at the table, Danielle and Lily each took a box and began looking through it. They weren’t at the task more than five minutes when Danielle pulled out a file and said, “Bingo. I found something on Sullivan!”
Abandoning her box, Lily shoved it aside and anxiously waited for Danielle to open the file.
“Yes, this is Sean Sullivan’s,” Danielle muttered as she flipped through the file. Lily silently watched as Danielle read through the pages.
“Here’s something on Sullivan’s admission to Marymoor,” Danielle said. “He was committed just a few weeks before Katherine married Angela’s brother.”
Lily leaned forward, her arms resting on the table as she watched Danielle read through the papers. “Does it say why he was committed?”
“This is interesting,” Danielle muttered. “It seems Sullivan was arrested, and the arresting officer recommended commitment, claiming Sullivan was a danger to himself and the public. Guess who the arresting officer was?”
“Who?”
“Hal Tucker,” Danielle said.
Lily frowned. “Why is that name familiar?”
Danielle set the open file down on the tabletop and looked at Lily. “Remember, Hal Tucker was a fishing buddy of Angela’s brother, Roger. He’s the one who harassed Emma Jackson so she would change her story about seeing Roger coming from Frederickport after Walt was murdered.”
“Wasn’t that the one who had a thing for Angela?”
Danielle picked up the file again and looked at it. “That’s what Emma seemed to think. But one thing we do know about him, he was willing to help Roger get control of Walt’s estate. First covering for him and now, apparently, getting Sullivan out of the way.”
“Is that what you think happened, I mean with Sullivan?” Lily asked.
“I’m starting to. Maybe Sullivan knew what Roger was up to and tried to get his friend to see she was being seduced by a con man. Maybe Roger had his old buddy get Sullivan out of the way in the same way he helped with Emma.”
“Fortunately, he didn’t commit Emma.”
“True. But he threatened to have her deported from Oregon, and considering the times, he had all the power.”
“I’m assuming he died at Marymoor, since he’s buried in their section,” Lily suggested.
Danielle quickly flipped through the pages in the file until she found what she was looking for. “Looks like that poor guy spent the rest of his life there, twelve years. According to this, he died of influenza.”
“Why did they keep him so long? I would think eventually he’d be released. Walt never said he was violent, did he?” Lily asked.
“No. I’m looking for any doctor’s notes. Hold on…” Sorting through the file, Danielle found what she was looking for. Removing the pages, she set the file back down on the table and leaned back in the chair as she proceeded to read.
After a few minutes, Danielle murmured, “This is interesting.”
“What?” Lily asked anxiously.
“The doctor’s notes. Apparently Sullivan talked a great deal about this leprechaun he reportedly saw.”
“Just like Walt said.”
“Not just any leprechaun. One named Paddy Fitzpatrick. Apparently, Paddy loved to torment poor Sean. At least, that’s what Sullivan conveyed to the doctor. But what is particularly interesting…” Danielle paused and looked up from the papers to Lily. “Sullivan described his leprechaun to the doctor—who then included that description in his notes.”
“And?”
“Green derby hat, red jacket…leather apron.”
“Are you saying the leprechaun, or whatever he is, that has been hanging around Marlow House is this Paddy Fitzpatrick?” Lily asked.
“That would be my guess.”
“Don’t tell me there really are leprechauns!”
Danielle shook her head and set the doctor’s notes down on the file. “The notes also reference other sightings Sullivan claimed to have seen.”
“Like what?”
“He claimed his grandmother visited him when he was a child—after she died. And that after one of the Marymoor residents was killed in an accident, Sullivan claimed to have seen him wandering the grounds.”
“What are you saying?” Lily asked.
“I suspect Sean Sullivan had something in common with me and Chris and Heather…and Evan.”
“He could see spirits?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Danielle, just because you aren’t crazy and can see spirits, it doesn’t mean this Sean Sullivan wasn’t nuts, nor does it mean he could see spirits any more than I can. What makes you so sure he wasn’t simply a nutcase. Maybe he did belong at Marymoor.”
“For one thing, both Sean Sullivan and I have seen the same spirit. Our friend who likes to masquerade as a leprechaun.”
“Are you convinced he wasn’t a leprechaun?”
Danielle frowned. “Seriously? Leprechauns? You aren’t really suggesting they exist.”
Lily sighed. “I suppose not.”
Danielle tossed the doctor’s notes back in the file. “Well, I did learn one thing today.”
“What’s that?”
“I won’t be able to find out who Brianna’s father was. At least, not from Sullivan.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He obviously never got married. Never had children. Being locked up at Marymoor, he might never have known what happened to Katherine, so no one to share the sensational tale with. I’ll read through the rest of the file, see if he ever mentioned Katherine, but I seriously doubt it. My guess, whatever he knew about Brianna’s father probably died with him.”
“What about his spirit?” Lily suggested.
“We didn’t see him at the cemetery. According to the notes on his death, he died at the sanatorium. So, if his spirit didn’t move on, I suppose it would most likely be at the sanatorium site.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Lily asked brightly. “Finish reading through the file, and then let’s head over to check out what’s left of Marymoor.”
Twenty-Five
“I don’t think I�
��ve ever been down this road before,” Lily said as Danielle turned on the street leading to where Marymoor Sanatorium once stood.
“Same here.” Hands firmly on the steering wheel, Danielle continue to drive down the quiet residential street.
Located on the edge of town, Danielle suspected the area had not been developed back when the buildings of Marymoor stood, considering the age of the houses lining both sides of the street. She guessed they had all been built within her lifetime.
The Marymoor site was located on the end of the road, sectioned off by chain-link fence sporting a large No Trespassing sign. Danielle pulled up along the piece of property and parked her car. Together she and Lily sat in the vehicle and silently studied the site.
“It looks like a big piece of property,” Lily noted. “No wonder there was talk of turning it into a park.”
“I don’t know what the zoning is, but it would be a good site for a condominium complex,” Danielle said.
Lily turned to look at the nearby houses. “I imagine the homeowners on this street wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“Probably not. But it’s large enough to cut out at least six home sites, maybe more.”
“Did Adam say the city owned the property?”
“I think so. You want to get out and have a closer look?” Danielle asked.
Leaning forward in her seat, Lily surveyed the fenced area. “Do you see anything?”
“Do you mean like ghosts?”
“Umm, yeah…”
Danielle smiled. “No. I don’t see any ghosts.”
Danielle pulled her keys from the ignition and opened her car door while Lily exited her side of the vehicle. Together the two women approached the locked gate.
There was no sign of the buildings that had once stood on the property. Danielle knew they were originally destroyed by a fire approximately twenty-five years earlier, and since that time the property had been cleared of any debris, replaced by weeds and wildflowers.
It wasn’t until Danielle was about two feet from the fence that she felt it—a tingling of apprehension moving down her spine. She stopped abruptly.
Noticing Danielle’s hesitation, Lily paused and looked at her friend. “What is it? Do you see something?”
“No…” Danielle said with unease, her eyes fixed on what lay beyond the chain-link fence. “But I feel something.”
“What?” Lily asked anxiously.
It was then Danielle saw it. A woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform stood just inside the gate, her image transparent yet gradually darkening and coming into full view.
“It’s a nurse,” Danielle whispered, taking a step toward the fence. She and the ghost locked gazes.
“You can see me,” the nurse said, taking a step toward Danielle.
“What’s your name?”
“Molly. What’s yours?”
“I’m Danielle, Molly. You used to work at Marymoor, didn’t you?” Danielle asked.
Molly smiled and cocked her head slightly, studying Danielle through the fence. “I’m not alone,” she told her. “They are hiding now. But they will come out tonight.”
“The other spirits?” Danielle asked.
Again the woman smiled, taking a step closer. She grabbed hold of the fence, her fingers wrapping around the chain link as she stared at Danielle. Nearby Lily stood speechless, her eyes focused on Danielle, wondering what she was seeing—who she was talking to.
“Are there many?” Danielle asked.
“I take care of them. That’s why I’ve stayed. They need someone to take care of them.”
Danielle’s gaze shifted to Molly’s right shoulder. Blood soaked her white uniform, as if she had been stabbed. Danielle wondered if this was the nurse Melony had told her about, the one who had been killed by a patient, the reason Marymoor had been closed.
“Do you know who Sean Sullivan is?” Danielle asked.
Molly cocked her head in the other direction, her mouth firmly closed but still smiling. After a moment she spoke. “Sean doesn’t like it here. He moved on.”
“Then you knew him?”
“He could see people like us, you know. I never believed him. But now I know.”
“Do you remember him talking about a leprechaun?” Danielle asked.
Molly’s smile broadened, now showing her teeth, stained and crooked, with a wide gap between her two front bottom teeth. “Sean always talked about his leprechaun. Paddy Fitzpatrick. A troublesome character, that one.”
“Are you saying you met Paddy Fitzpatrick?”
Molly shrugged. “I suppose we all did after we moved on.”
“You mean when you died?” Danielle asked.
Molly frowned and took an abrupt step back away from the fence. “What do you mean?” she asked angrily, no longer smiling. “I’m not dead! How dare you say that!”
Abrupt wind replaced the calm, sending dust in all directions, and when it stopped, Molly was no longer there.
“What happened?” Lily asked, looking around curiously.
“I think it was the nurse who was murdered. At first, I thought she understood she was dead, but I don’t think so…I mean, she’s still confused.”
“Are you going to help her so she can move on?” Lily asked.
A chill moved up Danielle’s spine. Wrapping her arms protectively around her body, she shook her head and stepped away from the fence. “I think we should go. Something about this place…really…we need to go.”
“That freaked me out,” Lily said after she was back in the car and putting her seatbelt on.
Danielle turned on the ignition. “I don’t like the energy here.” She pulled her car back into the street and started for home.
“Did you learn anything?” Lily asked.
“Sounds like Sullivan wasn’t the only one to see Paddy Fitzpatrick. But from what Molly said, my guess, she and the others saw him after they died.”
“Molly?” Lily frowned.
Danielle then began to recount her exchange with Molly’s spirit. Engrossed with the retelling, she failed to see the man step in front of her car until it was too late. She slammed on the brakes and screamed. He was no longer standing in front of her vehicle, but in the middle of her car’s hood.
“What the…?” Lily could feel her heart race as she held onto the handle of the car door. “Why did you stop?”
Staring at the man looking at her through the windshield—a man wearing a green derby hat, red jacket, leather apron—Danielle stammered, “Uhh…I guess you don’t see him.”
“Who? What do you see?” Lily asked, her heartbeat still racing.
“I suspect we were right, our leprechaun is probably a ghost, since I see him and you don’t.” Danielle’s gaze remained fixed on the apparition.
“You see him?” Lily looked out the windshield and noticed nothing out of the ordinary.
“Ohhhh…yeah…” Danielle swallowed nervously and took a breath. “I really hate when they do that.” She turned off her ignition.
“Do what? And why are you stopping the car in the middle of the street?” Lily glanced behind her. They were still on a residential street, and no cars were in sight.
Slowly, Danielle opened her car door and stepped out of the vehicle.
“Have you been following me?” the leprechaun asked angrily. “I saw you talking to Molly. Are you looking for me?”
“Molly? So you know her?” Danielle asked, now standing by her car, her car door wide open.
“What’s it to you? If you think you’re going to catch me and demand three wishes, you’ll see I’m much faster than you!”
“Are you a leprechaun?” Danielle asked.
“Do I look like a leprechaun?”
Danielle looked him up and down. He remained standing in the center of her car’s hood. “Hard to tell with you standing in the middle of my car. Move over there.” She pointed to the street in front of her.
“Is this some trick?” he asked suspiciously.
D
anielle shrugged. “You say you’re quicker than me, so why not let me have a better look? This car door is between us. If I start to chase you, you’ll get away before I can get around it.”
He considered her suggestion and smiled. “True.” He stepped into the street, giving her a full view of his unusual clothing.
After looking him up and down for a few minutes, she shook her head. “Nope. You are definitely not a leprechaun.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“For one thing, you’re taller than me. I know I’m not exactly tall, but I sure as heck am taller than a leprechaun. Nope. You’re just some guy dressed up like one.”
He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t even have much of an Irish accent. Just a hint. No. You’re no leprechaun.”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “If I wasn’t a leprechaun, I wouldn’t have my gold back.”
“What gold?” Danielle asked.
“The gold you tried to steal.”
“Are you saying you took the gold coins out of the bank?”
He laughed. “You can’t trick me. I know all the tricks.”
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” Danielle asked.
“I told you. I came to get my gold back. The gold you stole.”
“If you’re talking about the gold coins I put in the bank—if that’s the gold you took—it wasn’t your gold. It belonged to Walt Marlow and Jack Winters.”
He frowned. “Walt Marlow?”
“Yes. That gold belonged to him. Did you have something to do with taking the gold coins out of the bank? Was it you who left the shamrock?” She studied him. “It was, wasn’t it?”
He smiled. “It’s my gold now.”
“Are you Paddy Fitzpatrick?”
All traces of his smile vanished. “What did you just say?”
“Are you Paddy Fitzpatrick? You are, aren’t you? You were haunting Sean Sullivan, making everyone think he was crazy, but it was you, wasn’t it?”
Visibly angry, he seemed incapable of uttering a word. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His breathing became labored, his complexion a deeper red, and when he opened his mouth again as if to speak, he instead vanished, leaving Danielle standing alone on the street.
The Ghost and the Leprechaun Page 16
