The Ghost Who Dream Hopped

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “I hope you don’t mind me just stopping by like this,” Millie said as she stepped into the entry and glanced around. “But I was in the neighborhood, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Danielle offered to take Millie’s heavy coat. Less than five minutes later Millie’s coat was hanging on the entry hall coat rack while she sat with Danielle and Sadie in the living room.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the Marlow portraits.”

  “Is there some news on them? Chris told me they were still waiting on the art expert to authenticate the paintings.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Millie explained. “Since it’s taking a little longer than we had anticipated, we were wondering if perhaps Walt Marlow might consider loaning his paintings to the museum. With Eva’s portrait up in Portland with yours, her exhibit looks a little bare. We thought maybe the reproductions would be a nice substitution. Of course, we would return them as soon as the originals are delivered to the museum.”

  “It would be nice to get them out of the hall closet,” Danielle muttered.

  “I have to say I am a little surprised you aren’t displaying them.”

  Danielle shrugged. “I didn’t realize how much room they really took up until they were gone.”

  “Do you think Mr. Marlow might consider it?” Millie asked.

  Danielle stood up. “Walt’s in the library. Let me go see what he says.”

  “Is it okay if I just wait here?” Millie asked sweetly.

  “Certainly.” Danielle flashed Millie a smile and left the room.

  Millie sat in the chair for a few moments and then abruptly stood up. She set her purse on the floor and then tottered as quick as she was able to the doorway. Once there, she peered down the hall toward the library. Danielle was no longer in view.

  Sadie, who had remained in the living room with Millie, lifted her head from where she rested on the floor by the chair Danielle had vacated. The dog cocked her head curiously as she watched the gray-haired woman scamper around the room, looking under furniture, opening cabinets, and even peeking behind drapery.

  The moment the sound of footsteps could be heard, Millie rushed back to her chair. By the time Walt and Danielle entered the room, Millie was already sitting, her handbag in her lap, yet she was slightly out of breath.

  A few minutes later, as Walt sat on the sofa listening to Millie’s request, Sadie got up from where she had been lying and walked over to Walt. She rested her chin on his knee.

  Absently stroking Sadie’s head with one hand, Walt tried to focus on what Millie was saying when canine mental telepathy kept trying to get his attention.

  Shh, in a minute, Walt silently told Sadie as he continued to stroke her head.

  Not to be ignored, Sadie let out a little, “Woof!”

  Millie stopped talking and asked, “Does she need to go outside?”

  “We have a doggie door in the kitchen,” Danielle explained.

  Millie frowned. “I thought that was Ian Bartley’s dog?”

  Danielle smiled. “We’re pet sitting. But I have a cat too. They both come and go out of the doggie door.”

  Walt stopped petting Sadie for a moment and looked down at her. He frowned and then glanced up to Millie.

  “As I was saying…” Millie continued.

  “The museum is welcome to the portraits,” Walt said, interrupting Millie’s sales pitch. “Someone can pick them up tomorrow if they want.”

  “Really?” Millie asked.

  “Certainly.” Walt smiled.

  Normally Danielle would have offered Millie a beverage or something to eat, but the truth was, she wanted to enjoy her last evening with Walt before the next round of bed-and-breakfast guests arrived. Spending the rest of the evening entertaining Millie was not on her agenda.

  Danielle stood up. “Just give me a call before you send someone over, and I’ll have the portraits ready for you.”

  Millie remained seated, giving no sign she was ready to leave. She smiled up at Danielle. “You said they were in a closet. There’s no reason to bother getting them out. Whoever we send over can do that. We just appreciate Mr. Marlow loaning us the paintings.”

  “Just so you know, we got rid of the crate they were stored in. It wouldn’t fit in the closet, and it was too heavy to lug down to the basement,” Danielle explained.

  “Thank you. I promise we’ll take very good care of them.”

  “I’m not concerned,” Walt said.

  Still seated, Millie asked Danielle, “Did you hear about poor Beverly?”

  With a sigh, Danielle sat back down. “Umm…yes. But I understand she’s going to be okay. She’s supposed to be released tomorrow.”

  “Such a shame.” Millie shook her head while eyeing Danielle anxiously.

  “Yes, it is. I hope they catch whoever did it soon. I’d hate for someone else to get hurt.”

  They sat in awkward silence for a few moments. Finally, Millie said, “Steve was so active in the museum, we really miss him.”

  “Yes. He seemed to do a lot for the museum.” Danielle moved restlessly in her chair.

  “Beverly isn’t interested in the museum.” Millie fidgeted with her handbag’s strap and then blurted, “Do you see Beverly much?”

  “I see her around.” Danielle smiled. “We’re not close friends or anything.”

  “Have you seen her recently?” Millie asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I should probably give her a call tomorrow when she comes home, see how she’s doing.”

  “Umm…yes…I should too.” Millie glanced around the room, her fingers still fidgeting with her handbag strap.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, Millie let out a sigh and then stood up. “I suppose I should get going.”

  “Thank you for stopping by. Just give me a call when you want to pick up the paintings.” Danielle stood up.

  As they neared the door leading to the hallway, Millie paused and said, “Your house looks lovely, by the way. No guests staying here now?”

  “We have some arriving tomorrow.”

  “It is so beautifully kept. Joanne still works for you, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes. Joanne does a wonderful job.” Danielle stood with Millie by the door leading to the hallway.

  “Would you mind giving me a quick tour? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the inside,” Millie asked.

  Danielle forced a smile. “Certainly.”

  Walt stood up and fumbled with his crutches. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to head back to the library. I have a book to finish.” And a brandy, he silently added.

  For the next twenty minutes Danielle gave Millie a tour of the house. The only room she didn’t let her see was Walt’s. “I don’t like to intrude on our guests,” Danielle explained. The landline started to ring.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to grab that,” Danielle said.

  “That’s okay. I’ll let myself out. But first I need to get my car keys; I think I left them in the living room.”

  The next moment Danielle dashed to the parlor to answer the phone. After entering the room, she shut the door behind her.

  Instead of going to the living room, Millie tried the door to Walt’s room. It was unlocked. Glancing back to the parlor door nervously, she slipped inside the room and quickly looked around. Just as she opened the closet and spied the apple boxes stacked in a corner, she heard a loud woof. Jerking around toward the sound, Millie came face-to-face with Sadie, who stood between her and the open bedroom door, tail wagging.

  Millie hurriedly closed the closet door and then rushed from the room. When looking toward the parlor, she was relieved its door was still closed. She coaxed Sadie out of the room, closed the door, and then moved as quickly as her old body could to the coat rack to retrieve her jacket.

  “Is she gone?” Walt asked when Danielle returned to the library.

  “Yes. I just watched her drive away. I locked the front door and turned off the porch lights.
I really don’t want any more visitors tonight.”

  “Don’t forget, Ian will be stopping in later to pick up Sadie,” Walt reminded her.

  Danielle took a seat next to Walt on the sofa. “He usually comes in the side door. And he has his own key.”

  “Where were you when Millie was in my room?” Walt asked.

  Danielle frowned at Walt. “I didn’t show her your room. I told her I don’t like to impose on our guests. And as far as she knows, that’s what you are.”

  “Not according to Sadie.”

  At the mention of her name, Sadie looked up from where she was curled by the end of the sofa. She cocked her head to face Danielle, her tongue hanging out of her mouth sideways.

  “What did Sadie say?”

  “According to Sadie, she went into my bedroom and found Millie standing by my closet, with the closet door open.”

  “It must have been when I answered the phone.”

  “Not only that, but earlier, when you left to get me, Sadie said she looked all over the living room, opening cabinets and looking under furniture.”

  “Seriously? I didn’t realize Millie was such a snoopy busybody! First she wants to gossip about Beverly, and then she starts poking around our house! I’m disappointed in her!”

  Millie didn’t go straight home after leaving Marlow House. Instead she went to Pier Café. The others were supposed to meet her there. They were going to give her an hour and then they would all meet up at the restaurant. When she arrived, they had already been served. Chad and Herman were already halfway finished with their pieces of cherry pie while Ben toyed with his uneaten slice of chocolate cake, stabbing it occasionally with the tip of his fork.

  “Did she give them to you?” Chad asked when Millie sat down with them.

  Before she could answer his question, Carla arrived at the table. Millie ordered a piece of apple pie à la mode and a cup of coffee and, when Carla walked away, said, “She doesn’t really have them.”

  “What do you mean?” Chad asked.

  “She has Walt Marlow staying in the downstairs bedroom. Which makes sense, since he has a broken leg. I found the boxes in the closet in his room.”

  “What were you doing in his room?” Ben asked.

  “Looking for the boxes, of course!”

  “And Danielle let you go through his room?” Herman frowned.

  “Don’t be silly! I snuck in there when she went to answer the phone!” Millie snapped.

  “Did she ever mention the boxes?” Ben asked.

  “I tried to get her in a conversation about Beverly, but it was like pulling teeth. And I couldn’t just ask her about the boxes. She would wonder how I knew about them.”

  “Chad should have gone,” Herman announced.

  Everyone at the table turned to Herman.

  “Me?” Chad frowned.

  “Beverly told you about giving those boxes to Danielle. Now that I think about it, it really should have been you who stopped by. You could have just come out and asked Danielle if the museum could go through them.”

  “I can’t do that now,” Chad grumbled.

  “I have another idea,” Millie said.

  “You are just full of ideas,” Ben said under his breath.

  Millie ignored Ben’s comment and said, “Walt Marlow said the museum is welcome to display the portraits. We can pick them up tomorrow. And when we do, we simply replace the contents of those boxes with something else. Something less…inflammatory. They will never know the difference and problem solved. And then we can tell Sam, and he can tell Ruby, and everything will go back to how it was.”

  Ben frowned at Millie. “Exactly how are we supposed to do that? Didn’t you say the boxes are in one of the guest bedrooms?”

  Millie rolled her eyes at Ben. “Honestly, do I have to come up with all the ideas? I’m sure you men can figure out something!”

  Nineteen

  Danielle ordered in a pizza for Thursday night. She and Walt sat together on the parlor sofa, an open pizza box on the coffee table, while they each held a slice in their hands, using napkins instead of plates to catch any crumbs, sauce or toppings.

  “I still can’t believe you never had pizza before.” Danielle pulled a piece of pepperoni off her slice and popped it into her mouth.

  “I had a friend from New York who told me about it. But I never had a chance to try it.”

  “I remember you telling me that once. So, do you like it?”

  “What’s not to like?” He took another bite of his slice.

  Danielle chuckled.

  Grabbing a napkin off the table, Walt wiped his mouth and then said, “If they pick up those portraits tomorrow, do you think we could put the boxes Beverly brought over in the hall closet? We should have plenty of room with those paintings out of there.”

  “Yeah, they’re pretty much taking up your entire closet floor.”

  “I’d like to start going through them, but I really don’t want to do it in the bedroom. Not enough light, and I’d rather be sitting at a desk when I sort through the boxes.”

  “I suppose you could use the desk in the library or parlor. You don’t really need to wait until the guests check out.”

  Walt arched his brow at Danielle. “I’ve a feeling having those boxes piled up in either room while we have guests will drive you insane.”

  Danielle chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you know me well. I like things neat when we have people staying here.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not in any shape to haul those boxes back and forth from the hall closet. Assuming that’s where we put them. Unless, of course, you let me use my magic trick.”

  Danielle flashed him a grin. “Umm…no, I don’t think you should use your magic trick when we have guests in the house.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  She was about to take another bite when she thought of something. “I know. That old wooden file cabinet in the parlor. Move the stuff out of the boxes and put them in the file drawers. You can go through the material whenever you want to without boxes sitting around.”

  “What about what’s in the file cabinet now?”

  “We could put whatever is in the drawers in the boxes—switch them. And then store the apple boxes in the hall closet for now. It’s not like there’s anything we need from the file cabinet right now. I think one drawer has those photos the museum gave me that belonged to you, and one has all the newspaper clippings I’ve kept on Marlow House since I moved in. Mostly historical stuff,” Danielle explained.

  “It’s a good idea. But we should switch them out tonight. That way I can move them myself,” Walt suggested.

  Danielle had to admit there was definitely a plus to Walt’s telekinetic abilities. Assuming that’s what it is, Danielle reminded herself. She watched as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom and willed the closet door open. After it opened, the boxes floated out into the room, through the open doorway, and toward the parlor—all three boxes.

  “You’re showing off,” Danielle teased as she walked back to the parlor—Walt hopping next to her—both following a parade of floating apple boxes.

  “I told you I could probably move them all at the same time.”

  “Impressive,” Danielle muttered.

  After the boxes landed on the parlor floor, their lids flipped off. Danielle started to walk to the file cabinet, her intention to empty the drawers. Walt grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Wait.” He smiled at her and then looked back to the file cabinet.

  With a frown Danielle’s gaze followed Walt’s. The next moment one drawer opened. Danielle’s eyes widened as she watched the contents floating up from the drawer at the same time the contents floated up from one of the open boxes. It was some magic trick, she thought, the way the contents changed places. In the next moment the drawer closed and another opened, and again the contents switched places.

  Sadie, who sat next to Walt, watched intently, whimpering occasionally, as if she was doing her doggone best to contain her
excitement.

  “You really are showing off,” Danielle teased.

  Walt laughed. When finished with his task, he moved the boxes to the hallway, near the hall closet, where the portraits were being kept. The closet door opened, seemingly on its own volition.

  “No,” Danielle said. “Don’t move the portraits now.”

  Walt turned to Danielle. “I have to. The boxes won’t fit unless I take the paintings out.”

  “I know, but what happens if they don’t pick them up tomorrow, and then I have those monstrosities—no offense—sitting in the entry hall. Plus, Joanne will wonder how I moved them by myself.”

  Walt let out a sigh. “True.”

  “If they don’t pick up the portraits tomorrow, we can just push the boxes inside the doorway to the basement and shut the door. No one will see them. Unless, of course, someone tries to go down to the basement and doesn’t turn the lights on and then trips over the boxes and falls down the stairs and breaks their neck or maybe just a leg.”

  Walt chuckled. “Should I start calling you Lily?”

  Danielle giggled. “Shh, they could walk in at any moment.”

  “Okay, we’ll leave the boxes in the hall for now. And if we have to, we’ll move them out of the way—but we’ll leave the light on so no one falls down the basement stairs. We’ve already found one dead body at the base of those stairs, we don’t need another.”

  Danielle shrugged. “Now that I think about it, there is a nightlight in there.”

  After Walt moved the apple boxes near the outside wall across from the hall closet, he asked, “So there isn’t a Marymoor Orchard anymore?”

  “I guess not. I’d never heard of it before. Was Brian right? Was it the same Marymoor family as the one who donated the land for the sanatorium?”

  “They were one and the same. Old man Marymoor didn’t have any family. But he owned a lot of land in Oregon—including the orchard,” Walt explained as he hobbled back to the parlor.

  “No family?”

  Walt dropped the crutches to the floor by the sofa and sat down. “He had one son. From what my grandfather told me, his wife died in childbirth, and he never remarried. He lost the son to influenza—same time I got sick.”