The Ghost and the Leprechaun

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “Danielle, Danielle!” Lily called out.

  Shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs, Danielle glanced to Lily, who was now pointing up the street. There, facing her, was a police car attempting to drive down the same street her vehicle was currently blocking.

  To her relief, the officer who stepped out of the now parked police car was Chief MacDonald.

  “Danielle?” he called out, walking toward her. “Are you okay?”

  Danielle let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Oh, Chief, it’s you!”

  “Are you okay? Are you having car trouble?” he asked when he reached her.

  “No…more like ghost trouble.”

  “Ghost?” He glanced down the street. “Were you down at the Marymoor site?”

  Danielle nodded.

  “So is it true, is that place haunted?”

  “Well, it has at least one Marymoor ghost, yet I suspect there may be more. But that’s not why I’m standing in the middle of the street.”

  “Why are you standing in the middle of the street?”

  “I think I just met the party responsible for removing the gold coins from the bank.”

  “Please tell me. That entire case has become a major pain.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m about to tell you will help you much.”

  “It’s a ghost? Right?” the chief asked.

  “His name is Paddy Fitzpatrick, and for some reason he believes he’s a leprechaun. And, well, you know…leprechauns have this thing for gold.”

  Twenty-Six

  Before Danielle could tell the chief what she knew about Paddy Fitzpatrick, another car drove down the street, stopping behind the police car. MacDonald quickly returned to his vehicle, and Danielle returned to hers. After they each drove their respective car to the side of the road, they parked again.

  “This is better,” the chief said when Danielle and Lily met him by the front of his car, each standing on the sidewalk. “So tell me about this Paddy Fitzpatrick.”

  Danielle didn’t have much to tell, but she told him all that she knew.

  “Did he say anything about a bracelet?” the chief questioned.

  “Bracelet?” Danielle asked.

  “Another safe deposit holder claimed something was missing from his box. This time, an expensive heirloom bracelet.”

  “Ian told me about that,” Lily said. “He ran into the guy at the barber shop. I guess he was pretty upset. Claimed he planned to sue the bank.”

  “I suspect it’s all over town by now,” he said with a weary sigh. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with the information on Fitzpatrick. I can’t very well tell Wilson and Thomas about him. And what is he exactly? A ghost? An oversized leprechaun?”

  “My guess, a ghost,” Danielle said. “But you’re right. This information just makes solving the robbery more frustrating.”

  “Fitzpatrick, you say?” the chief asked.

  “Yes, Paddy Fitzpatrick,” Danielle said.

  “Agatha Pine was a Fitzpatrick, if I’m not mistaken,” the chief said.

  “Who’s Agatha Pine?” Lily asked.

  “She’s Joyce Pruitt’s mother,” the chief explained. “Some people call her Gran.”

  “Ahh, the one who comes across as if she’s some sort of duchess?” Danielle asked with a chuckle.

  MacDonald smiled. “That’s the one. Joyce moved to Frederickport after her divorce, with her mother and four kids. I remember Agatha telling me once she was originally from Frederickport, but moved from town after she was married. I asked her if she still had family here, and she said they were all gone. Never asked if that meant they had all died or moved.”

  “You think this ghost could be related to Agatha Pine?” Lily asked.

  The chief shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose. Same name. I wonder why he’s sticking around Frederickport.” He looked at Danielle. “You’ve never seen him before?”

  “Like I told you, Heather was one of the first to see him. But a week ago, I didn’t even know the guy existed.”

  “If he is responsible for tampering with the safe deposit boxes, I’d like to recover the gold and bracelet and send him on his way,” the chief said.

  “Well, first, we need to figure out why he’s hanging around,” Danielle said. “Unless we figure that out, it’s practically impossible to get him to move on, much less tell us what he did with the items he took.”

  “I’m more interested in why he’s dressed up like a leprechaun,” Lily said.

  When Danielle and Lily returned to Marlow House, they found Nola in the library, reading a book. Stretched out on the sofa, her stockinged feet crossed at the ankle on the couch cushion, she looked up from the book.

  “Albert is taking a nap,” Nola told them. “And the Spicers left about twenty minutes ago. They said something about doing a little antiquing. I told them about a cute little antique shop Albert and I found downtown.”

  “I don’t know about antiquing,” Walt said when he appeared in the library the next moment. “But the Spicers are a little odd. I think the word you use today is kinky.”

  Danielle arched her brows at Walt, yet said nothing.

  Fifteen minutes later Danielle and Lily excused themselves from Nola. Lily went across the street to see Ian, while Danielle went into the parlor with Walt.

  “Do you know what kinky means?” Danielle asked Walt as she closed the parlor door.

  “I do read, Danielle.” He sounded offended.

  “I mean how we use the term today. I believe it was used differently back in your day. I just want to make sure we’re talking about the same thing.”

  “I’m not talking about the tightness of Mr. or Mrs. Spicer’s hair, if that’s what you’re asking.” Walt took a puff off his cigar and then released several smoke rings. He watched as they drifted to the ceiling and then disappeared.

  “You said you read about the word? You understand today’s meaning?”

  Walt rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Just what have you been reading?” she asked with a laugh.

  Walt looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Smiling, he said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I have one question.” Danielle took a seat on the sofa.

  “What’s that?”

  “Actually, I have two,” she clarified.

  “Ask away.” Walt took a puff off the cigar and then blew another smoke ring.

  “Were you able to wiggle your eyebrows like that when you were alive?”

  Walt shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Can’t recall looking in the mirror when I ever did it. And now…well, as you know, my looking-in-mirror days are over.” He flicked an ash off his cigar. It fell to the floor and disappeared. “What was your other question?”

  “Why did you call the Spicers kinky? You haven’t gone into their room…have you?”

  “Please, Danielle, that question is insulting.”

  “Sorry,” Danielle said sheepishly.

  “When they arrived home after you left and realized they were alone in the house, they ran up the stairs like two naughty teenagers and locked themselves in their bedroom.”

  “Well…that is actually kind of sweet. What’s wrong with a married couple getting a little romantic…and feisty?”

  “Feisty maybe, but I don’t think Mr. Spicer has much endurance. Not considering the short time they spent in their room.”

  “I still don’t understand why you called them kinky.”

  “For one thing, after their brief interlude—and I mean brief—Mrs. Spicer decided to run around cleaning your woodwork. I would expect enjoying a cigarette would be a more normal response.”

  “Brother,” Danielle said under her breath. She decided not to mention that she would never have a cigarette—not even after. Yet she preferred to avoid turning their conversation in that direction.

  “And then Mr. Spicer tried to break in to your room. I imagine to poke through your lingerie drawer.”
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  “I don’t have a lingerie drawer…wait, you said he tried to break in to my room?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “Why would he try to break in to my room?” Danielle frowned.

  “Didn’t I just tell you? To poke through your—”

  “I don’t have a lingerie drawer!”

  “Well, he doesn’t know that. I told you the man is kinky.”

  “Walt, please stop saying the word kinky. It sounds weird coming out of your mouth. And I seriously doubt that’s what he intended to do.”

  “You’re too naïve, Danielle. I really do shudder to think about you and Lily here alone while strange men wander around the halls at night while you’re alone in your rooms.”

  “That’s why I have you, Walt.” She smiled sweetly.

  He let out a sigh and sat down on the chair facing her. “So if it wasn’t for prurient reasons, then why was he trying to get in your room?”

  Danielle considered the question a moment. “I do have the Missing Thorndike locked in the wall safe. Maybe we have a jewel thief under our roof?”

  “Is he aware you have a safe? Have you mentioned where it’s located? Has he or his wife ever gone into your bedroom? Do they even know you have the necklace here?”

  “Umm…I think I can safely answer no to all those questions. Yet I suppose it is possible for them to assume I might have the necklace here, considering all that’s gone on.”

  “Another thing, while we’re on the subject of your locked bedroom. You might want to check under your bed before you lock your door.”

  “Why? Will I find a bogeyman under my bed?” Danielle giggled.

  “No. But you might find Max there. He was locked in your room again today. I let him out.”

  “Oh, that stinker. Thanks. Okay, I’ll try to remember to check from now on. As for Mr. Spicer, can you just keep an eye on him for me? They’re leaving Sunday.”

  “Certainly.” Walt flicked aside his cigar butt; it vanished in the air.

  “Hey, Walt, remember our leprechaun?”

  “Yes, what about him?”

  “Well, I saw him again today.” Danielle then went on to tell Walt about her outing with Lily.

  “Fitzpatrick?” Walt murmured after Danielle finished recounting the day’s events. “No. I don’t recall a Paddy Fitzpatrick. Although, I do recall a widow who lived in Frederickport with her son—her last name was Fitzpatrick. She took in laundry. I don’t remember the son’s name. But I don’t think it was Paddy.”

  “No, the son would be too young. If the spirit who I saw today was Paddy Fitzpatrick, I suspect he was about your age when he died. And if he was haunting Sean Sullivan, then he would have died at least before the time Sean started talking about him.”

  “I have no idea how long Sean had been seeing his leprechaun.”

  “If my suspicions are right, this leprechaun wannabee has taken off with your gold.”

  “Your gold,” Walt corrected.

  “It appears he grabbed someone’s bracelet too. I’d like to figure out where he’s hidden it, and then see if I can help him move on.”

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  Danielle stood up and removed her phone from her pocket. “Well, according to the chief, Agatha Pine’s maiden name was Fitzpatrick.” She sat back down on the sofa and began looking through her list of contacts.

  “Agatha Pine?”

  “You probably don’t remember her. The only time she has ever been here was during our open house last year. She came with her daughter, Joyce, and her four grandchildren. They spent a good deal of their time outside, if I remember correctly.”

  Walt shook his head. “The name is not familiar. But there were a lot of people here that day.”

  “Ahh, here it is. I have Joyce’s phone number.” Danielle looked up at Walt and smiled.

  “Just what do you have in mind?”

  “The next time I encounter Fitzpatrick—and I’m fairly certain that’s who I’m dealing with—I’d like to know more about him. That way, maybe I can convince him to return the items he took, and perhaps convince him he would be better off if he moved on.”

  “So you’re thinking this Agatha Pine has a leprechaun in her family tree?” Walt teased.

  “Ha-ha.” Danielle looked back at her cellphone and proceeded to place a call to Joyce Pruitt.

  Twenty-Seven

  Danielle decided this had to be her most hectic day in recent memory. Once again, she was backing her red Ford Flex out of the driveway. This time she was en route to Joyce Pruitt’s house to talk to Joyce’s mother, Agatha Pine. Danielle had decided to either wait until tomorrow to talk to Agatha, or call before it got too late in the afternoon. She didn’t want to intrude on their dinner hour. As it turned out, she was able to get ahold of Joyce and arrange a meeting today.

  On her drive over, she had Lily on speakerphone, who had stayed behind at Ian’s house.

  Her eyes on the road ahead, and her hands firmly on the steering wheel, Danielle said, “I have to say, Joyce acted a little strange when I called.”

  “What do you mean strange?” Lily asked.

  “Hard to explain. When she answered her phone, she sounded fine. But when she realized who was calling, she started stammering. It was weird. But when I told her why I was calling, that I wanted to talk to her mother about some Frederickport history, her tone changed completely.”

  “Joyce has always seemed a little high-strung to me,” Lily said.

  “I suppose.”

  “Ian and I are driving over to Astoria for dinner. Do you and Chris want to join us?” Lily asked.

  “Thanks. But I think I’ll pass. Walt tells me the Spicers are acting a little odd, and I would rather stick around the house tonight.”

  “You want Ian and me to come over? We don’t have to go to Astoria.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine with Walt there. But instead of leaving Sadie home alone, why don’t you leave her at our house? I’m sure Walt would love to visit with her, and she can help him keep an eye on the guests while I’m out.”

  Joyce Pruitt’s home was located in one of the less desirable neighborhoods in Frederickport. Most of the houses on her street had been built in the 1950s, and none seemed to have the cozy cottage feel or personality as many of the other homes in Frederickport.

  Danielle had never been to Joyce’s house before, yet she knew it was the gray one on the corner, with the sparsely landscaped front yard. Parking in front of the Pruitt house, she noticed its clapboard siding was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. Danielle turned off her engine, removed the key from the ignition, grabbed her purse off the passenger seat, and opened her car door.

  When she arrived at the front porch, there was no reason to knock or ring the bell. Joyce was already opening the door to greet her.

  “Your call was a surprise.” Joyce’s tone was less than cheerful and somewhat guarded.

  “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Danielle asked, standing on the front porch, looking into the house.

  “No.” Joyce shook her head. “I had just gotten home from work when you called. Here, come in.” Joyce opened the door wider and stepped aside for Danielle to enter. “Mother is in the living room. I told her you were coming.”

  Danielle followed Joyce into the living room, where she found Agatha Pine sitting on a leather recliner, her feet propped up on the footrest, and a knitted shawl wrapped around her frail shoulders. The elderly woman gazed at Danielle through shrewd eyes.

  “My daughter tells me you want to ask me some questions about local history,” Agatha greeted her.

  “Yes. I appreciate you seeing me.”

  “No reason not to. What else have I to do while I sit here waiting to die?” Turning her attention to her daughter, she snapped, “Bring us some lemonade!”

  Danielle didn’t have the opportunity to decline the offer of a beverage—which wasn’t exactly an offer. Joyce hurriedly scur
ried from the room to do as her mother ordered before Danielle could utter a word.

  Agatha pointed to the sofa facing her chair. “Sit.”

  Danielle smiled and took a seat on the sofa, setting her purse on the floor by her feet.

  “I saw your ad in the paper,” Agatha said. “I enjoyed your party last year. It’s too bad your cousin had to ruin everything.”

  “The celebration will be a little different this year.” Danielle chose not to engage in a discussion about her cousin, Cheryl, who last year had left the open house celebration with the Missing Thorndike and ended up murdered.

  “I notice you plan to charge admission this year. And just serving hot dogs?”

  “We’re donating the money to the local schools.”

  Agatha let out a snort. “I can’t imagine you would raise that much money. I’m surprised you don’t just donate it yourself and give away free hot dogs.”

  Joyce reentered the room, carrying a tray with three glasses of lemonade.

  “You’ve got to be pretty rich now. I understand they let you keep those gold coins Jolene found at the Hemming house.”

  At hearing her mother’s words, Joyce flinched, causing the tray to slip in her hands, almost dropping it. She managed to regain hold of it without spilling the glasses, but the lemonade sloshed from side to side.

  “Be careful!” Agatha snapped.

  “Actually, the gold has been stolen.” Danielle glanced over to Joyce and noticed the woman’s hand trembled as she removed each glass from the tray to be served.

  “Yes, I heard. Won’t your insurance reimburse you?” Agatha asked.

  Danielle accepted the beverage Joyce offered, the woman’s hand still trembled. “No. I didn’t have the coins insured, and the bank isn’t responsible for insuring the contents of a safe deposit box.”

  “Then I suppose you should have been more careful,” Agatha said as she snatched the glass Joyce now offered her.

  “I understand you wanted to ask mother about local history,” Joyce said as she took a seat on the sofa with Danielle.