by Bobbi Holmes
Sadie started to greet Ian and Danielle but stopped when she spied Stoddard. Sitting back down, she cocked her head from side to side and then let out a bark.
“Hey girl, what are you barking at?” Ian laughed, giving his dog a pat.
“Who’s that with you?” Walt asked, eyeing Stoddard.
“Lily!” Danielle stepped into the house and hugged her friend. Over Lily’s shoulder, she looked at Walt and mouthed: Stoddard’s spirit.
All of this was new territory for Danielle. She had no idea what would happen when Walt’s ghost confronted Stoddard’s or what sort of paranormal activity might be set in motion when the two collided. She would like an opportunity to have a quiet discussion with Stoddard—to try to explain to him he was mistaken. She was not his killer. But as long as Ian was around, that wouldn’t be happening.
To her surprise, Stoddard did not follow her into the house. Yet, it was not for his lack of trying. While Ian was preoccupied with hugging Lily, gently lifting her up and kissing her, Danielle turned to close the door.
Stoddard stood at the doorway, attempting to enter Marlow House, but it was as if an invisible shield prevented his entrance. Each time he made an unsuccessful attempt his anger accelerated. After she closed the door, he moved to the window, pounding on the glass—yet there was no sound coming from the windowpane. From the way his lips moved, he was obviously shouting, yet she could not hear his words.
“Did you just say that’s Stoddard Gusarov, the man who was murdered?” Walt asked. Danielle nodded in response.
As it turned out, Ian didn’t need to go for pizza. Joanne had made a batch of chili, which she had left warming in the crockpot in the kitchen. Twenty minutes after Ian and Danielle arrived at Marlow House, they sat with Lily in the kitchen eating chili and discussing the day’s events. Walt stood nearby, silently listening and smoking his cigar. Outside, Stoddard’s frustrated spirit silently pounded on the kitchen window, wanting into the house, his presence a persistent distraction for Danielle and Walt.
They had been sitting at the kitchen table for over an hour when Danielle finally stood up. “I hope you guys don’t mind, but I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“Can we do anything for you?” Lily asked.
“No. You’ve already done so much. Thanks both of you, for finding me an attorney.” Danielle took her bowl to the sink and rinsed it out.
“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Lily said.
Danielle turned from the sink to face Lily. “None of this is your fault, Lily.”
“I know, but if I hadn’t pulled into that stupid rest stop, none of this would be happening.”
“What is happening isn’t the fault of anyone in this room,” Ian said angrily. “If I wasn’t out of town, I could just have easily been framed for killing Stoddard. Hell, I actually thought about it.”
“Ian!” Lily gasped and then smiled. She reached over and patted his hand.
“Not me,” Danielle said with a smile, looking over to Walt. “I don’t really see death as the ultimate punishment—more like the next adventure. But I would like to have seen Stoddard spend some time in prison—let him experience a little of what he tried to do to Lily. But death, no. As far as I’m concerned he’s skirted justice.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Ian said with a sigh. “Maybe not kill him, but I would have loved to have beaten the crap out of him. That might have brought a little satisfaction.”
“Slugging Brian made me feel better,” Walt noted. “Might even give it a second go if he comes back over here.” Danielle flashed Walt a smile yet reserved comment, since she was the only one in the room who was able to hear him.
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Lily asked.
“I’m meeting with my attorney. After that, I’m not really sure.”
“I’ll be doing a little digging,” Ian said.
“How so?” Lily asked.
“Find out who benefits financially with Stoddard dead,” Ian said.
“Wouldn’t that be Darlene?” Lily asked.
“Not necessarily. I’m curious to see what happens to the company with him out of the picture,” Ian explained.
“Remember, whoever killed Stoddard also threatened Darlene. What happens with both of them out of the picture?” Danielle wondered.
“But was the threat for real?” Ian asked.
Lily looked at Ian. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe Stoddard’s killer was just taunting him. It was obvious they wanted to make the man suffer. After all, they shot him twice, why not just shoot him a third time, and end it all for him?” Ian asked.
“That’s sick.” Lily cringed.
“No…it wasn’t about making him suffer!” Danielle blurted out, a new thought coming to her.
“What do you mean?” Ian asked.
“Think about where they shot him. In his knee. Painful, yes, but it makes it difficult for him to move and not something that will kill instantly. But a belly wound, aren’t those known for being a slow and agonizing death?”
“Yes, they can be. But not always. I don’t see your point.” Ian frowned.
“Think about it. With his dying breath, Stoddard tells Brian I killed him. I didn’t, but I’m certain Stoddard actually believed that. Someone made it a point to make him think I was the killer—and they wanted him to live long enough so he could share that information. Which he did.”
“But that is pretty risky—I mean there’s always a chance he’d die before someone reached him. And what are the chances it’s a cop that witnesses his final words?” Ian asked.
“But it was a cop,” Danielle reminded.
“So was that planned or just a lucky coincidence for the killer?” Lily asked.
“If it was planned, then that would seem to point to Darlene as the killer. She’s the one who brought the cop with her.”
“If she was involved with the murder, then that means she had an accomplice,” Danielle said.
“Why do you say that?” Lily asked.
“Come on, do you really believe Stoddard wouldn’t recognize his own wife?” Danielle asked.
“Maybe they planned for Darlene to find the body, and Brian being there was an unexpected bonus,” Ian suggested. “After all, they obviously didn’t intend to rely solely on Stoddard’s dying words. They planted the murder weapon in Danielle’s car. I bet they knew when the trash truck would be coming down the street so they’d have reliable witnesses there to see a car like Danielle’s.”
“And according to the description of the other Flex’s driver, she looked just like me,” Danielle grumbled.
“If that’s the scenario, then I don’t see Darlene as the lone shooter, even if she was able to convince her husband she was someone else,” Lily said.
“Why do you say that?” Ian asked.
“Because I don’t think Darlene’s that bright,” Lily explained.
“You haven’t really met her, have you?” Ian asked.
“No…” It wasn’t entirely true. During her out of body experience, Lily had an opportunity to observe Stoddard and Darlene. Darlene was evil enough—she’d wanted her husband to smother Lily with a pillow. Yet, could she plan and execute such an elaborate scheme? Lily didn’t seem to think so. “It’s just from what I’ve heard about her,” Lily lied.
Chapter Six
Walt appeared in Danielle’s bedroom just as she started to crawl under her sheets. Instead of the pajama bottoms and t-shirt combos she typically wore to bed, tonight she had slipped on a pink floral cotton nightgown after her shower.
“I bet you’re exhausted,” he said.
“I was, but I think I got my second wind. I can’t tell you how great that shower felt. Nothing like being put in a jail cell to make you feel grimy.” Danielle pulled the covers to her waist and scooted over, making room for Walt to sit on the bed. He accepted her silent invitation. They lay side by side, leaning back against the headboard.
G
lancing to the window, they startled at the unexpected sight. Stoddard peered into the second floor window of Danielle’s bedroom, his fists furiously pounding against the windowpane in a silent tantrum.
“What is that all about?” Walt nodded to the window.
“I think I’m being haunted.”
“I thought that was my job.” Walt chuckled.
“Yes, and I like your way a lot better. Dang, am I going to have to look at that all night?”
Walt waved his hand and the curtain closed. They could no longer see Stoddard.
“I’m just glad he can’t get in here.” Danielle grimaced.
“Why do you think that is?”
Danielle pondered the question a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it all night. For some reason he seems unable to pass the threshold into Marlow House, in the same way you can’t leave.”
“Cheryl’s spirit didn’t have that problem.”
“Thankfully, Stoddard’s does. I’m just trying to figure out how it all works. You know, he tried to kill us tonight. Me and Ian.”
“What?” Walt looked in horror at Danielle.
“We’re driving back from the police station, and Stoddard appears in Ian’s car—sitting in the driver’s seat with him. We pass this truck, and Stoddard tries to take control of the steering wheel and send us careening into the truck.”
“Good lord, how did you stop him?”
“I didn’t. He’s not able to harness his energy. If he was, I’d be in a lot of trouble.”
“What happens if he figures it out?”
“I don’t think it works that way…it’s not possible…” Danielle stared at the curtain-covered window.
“Why do you say that?”
“Think about it. Imagine if all murdered spirits—or any spirit with a grudge—were able to wander around freely with harnessed energy. The universe knows what it’s doing. It’s not going to allow that. Chaos would ensue.”
“What about me? I’ve harnessed my energy. I even hit Brian Henderson this morning, not to mention I smashed Renton with the bronze statue, pelted Adam and his sidekick with the croquet set, oh, and I even smacked Cheryl.”
Danielle turned to Walt. “Yes, we need to address your violent tendencies.” She grinned and then added in a serious tone, “Remember, you’re trapped in Marlow House—confined to this area until you choose to move on to another level. It’s not unusual to hear about paranormal activities in specific—limited locations. Old haunted inns, houses, even graveyards. But I suspect those spirits—the ones who’ve harnessed their energy—are limited in their abilities. Like I said, the universe knows what it’s doing.”
“What about Isabella? She hit the dognapper over the head with a rock.”
“Yes, but until she needed to help someone, she hadn’t been able to do anything like that. I suspect if she’d tried to hit an innocent with a rock—let’s say some child just walking by—she wouldn’t have been able to move it. And look at your wife.”
“Let’s not,” Walt grumbled.
“Angela apparently has some limited abilities. I believe she was responsible for my car stalling and the cellphone not working, when she got me to stop at the cemetery the first time. But she obviously can’t move objects like Isabella did when she saved us.”
“So you aren’t afraid of Stoddard’s ghost?”
“There you go again, using the G-word.”
“I told you, I don’t like it when it’s applied to me. But considering Stoddard’s behavior, the term ghost seems fitting.”
“Do you think he is still out there?” Danielle asked.
Walt waved his hand, and the curtain opened. They had their answer. Stoddard hovered persistently at the window, his fists furiously pounding against the glass.
“I’d like to talk to Stoddard. See if I can make him understand that I didn’t kill him. Maybe even figure out who did.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going out there.”
“I can’t stay in this house indefinitely. And while I don’t think he can actually do anything to me, if I have to look at THAT for the rest of my life, he just might drive me insane.”
“I would feel better if I could go outside with you.”
“Well, you can’t. But I’ll be okay. Remember, he isn’t the first snarky ghost I’ve encountered. When I was much younger, I had an especially nasty ghost try to invade my space.”
“I suppose you don’t have a choice.” Walt sighed.
“Do you know if Ian is still here?”
“He went home when you were in the shower,” Walt told her.
“Is Lily in bed?”
“Yes. But, I’m not sure if she’s asleep. Why?”
Danielle started to get out of bed. “Because I’m going to go downstairs and see if I can reason with that ghost.”
* * *
Danielle stood on the back porch, outside the kitchen door. She hadn’t slipped on a robe, and she was barefoot. Her dark hair, still damp from the recent shampooing, fell past her shoulders. The cotton nightgown fluttered in the evening’s breeze, and overhead a crescent moon provided a glimmer of light to the dark night sky.
Glancing around, she didn’t see Stoddard. She wondered if he was still hovering overhead by her bedroom window, making those ridiculous faces. With a sigh, she walked out into the yard and sat down on the bench, waiting.
“I am going to kill you!” Stoddard shouted when he appeared a moment later, sitting next to her on the bench.
Turning to face him, Danielle said calmly, “Good evening, Stoddard.”
Her greeting startled Stoddard, who jumped up and stared down at her. “You really can see me!”
“I can hear you too.” Danielle smiled sweetly. “And it’s getting awful annoying, if you ask me.”
“If you hurt Darlene—”
“I didn’t shoot you, and I have no intention of hurting your wife, in spite of what you two did to Lily.”
“Darlene had nothing to do with that!” he shouted in outrage.
“Oh no?” Cocking her head slightly she lifted her brows and stared into Stoddard’s face, challenging him to disagree.
“She knew nothing about it. She was innocent. She thought that was Isabella.”
“So, you’re saying it was Isabella she wanted to smother with a pillow? Nice wife you have there.”
“What…what are you talking about?” Stoddard shifted nervously from one foot to another.
“Oh sit down, and talk to me like a respectable ghost. Your wiggling all over the place is almost as annoying as the way you keep peeking in my window. Charming, you die only to spend your eternity as a peeping Tom.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Darlene would never hurt anyone,” Stoddard grumbled as he sat back down on the bench.
“Oh stop lying. This isn’t the end of the road for you. You’ve another place to go. Maybe you can temporarily avoid going, but eventually you’ll have to move on. If you want to settle into a cooler climate, I suggest you stop your lies.
“Lily overheard you and your wife talking. When she was in her coma, her spirit was free—in the same way yours is now. She heard Darlene tell you to smother her with a pillow, to get rid of her. Of course, at the time she thought you were talking about Isabella. She didn’t realize you both knew it was Lily in that room, not your niece.”
“Is that why you killed me?”
“I didn’t kill you. Hey, when it’s my time to check out, I really don’t want to settle in Flame Flats. Or wherever those who’ve made the naughty list end up. If I was you, I’d be a little more concerned about your hereafter.”
“I don’t believe you. I saw you. You shot me—you even laughed about it. You, woman, will be going to hell. Maybe I can’t send you there, but you will get there.”
“Are you saying you saw my face?”
“Of course not, you wore that ski mask.”
“A ski mask? The person who shot you was wearing a ski m
ask? Then why assume it was me?”
“She carried a purse, just like your red one.”
“You noticed my purse?” Danielle frowned.
“She also wore her brown hair in a braid, like yours.”
“You remember my purse?”
“So? I have an excellent memory.”
“Maybe Darlene shot you. She and I are about the same size, I bet she’s the one who stands to inherit your money. She could have easily been wearing a wig.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I would recognize my own wife. I looked into your brown eyes when you shot me. My wife has blue eyes.”
“Well, whoever the shooter was, it wasn’t me. I don’t go around killing people—especially when I think that person is going to jail to pay for his crimes.”
“That’s just it; you believed my attorneys would get me off.”
“In your dreams,” Danielle snorted. “There is no way you wouldn’t have had to serve some time. And considering your former lifestyle, even six months would have been torturous for you.”
“You’re just saying all this because you want me to go away. But I’m not going. If I have to stay by your side every minute for the rest of your life, just to repay you for what you took from me, I will.”
“Did the woman who shot you say she was me?”
“You didn’t come out and say your name, but you did tell me you were repaying me for what I did to your friend and for trying to frame you for Isabella’s murder.”
“Which were especially nasty things for you to do; however, not me. Think about it a moment. Don’t you find it a trifle odd that I am having this conversation with you? Wouldn’t you expect a normal woman to—well—let’s say—run away hysterically if she thought a dead man—especially one she supposedly killed—started popping up in unexpected places like jail cells, cars and at the window of her bedroom? Not to mention the fact you tried to get Ian and me into a car accident. And trust me, had that little move worked and you killed us both, you’d be checking into Hades already.”
“I don’t know what to make of that. No one else seems to be able to see or hear me.”
