The Ghost and the Halloween Haunt Read online

  Danielle shrugged. “I think you should ask me that question on November first. If we survive, of course.”

  Twenty

  Gray clouds filled the sky and merged with the ocean, making it impossible to see the horizon, where the sky ended and water began. Walking up to Chris’s house with Walt, Danielle glanced up to the sky, questioning the wisdom of not bringing an umbrella. But then she remembered a true Oregon girl did not need an umbrella.

  According to the weatherman, there would be no rain today; however, the sky told a different story. Thus far the weatherman had not been proven wrong.

  “What are we going to tell them?” Walt asked.

  Danielle cringed. “I want to tell them everything, but we never told them about the secret staircase, and I feel funny telling them now.”

  “I suppose we could wait. See what happens,” Walt suggested. “And if Eva is right, this has something to do with my first life—which tells me nothing.”

  A few minutes later Danielle and Walt were being welcomed into Chris’s house, greeted by an exuberant pit bull and the smell of bacon frying.

  “Smells good,” Danielle said when she walked into the kitchen. Heather stood at the stove, turning bacon slices with a pair of tongs.

  “He invites me over for brunch and puts me to work,” Heather said in greeting.

  “Just keep working, minion,” Chris said with mock gruffness. He walked to the coffee pot and poured Walt and Danielle each a cup of coffee.

  “Yes, master,” Heather said in a robotic voice.

  “I invited Lily and Ian to join us. But they were already meeting Joe and Kelly for an early lunch,” Chris explained, handing them each a cup of coffee.

  “Yeah, I spoke to Lily this morning. She told me.”

  “Does this mean Kelly’s no longer annoyed with Ian?” Heather asked.

  “Not sure about that,” Danielle said with a chuckle.

  “Wow, you look terrible,” Chris told Danielle after he took a closer look.

  “Gee, thanks,” Danielle said with a scowl, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “And people say Chris is such a charmer,” Heather scoffed as she removed the cooked slices from the hot bacon grease and lined them up on the paper-towel-covered plate.

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said hastily. “But you look so tired. You feeling okay?”

  “Our sleep was interrupted again last night,” Walt explained.

  “Busy spirits or human mischief makers?” Heather asked.

  “I’m fairly certain the spirit variety,” Danielle said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar, Walt at her side. “At least nothing got broken.” She then went on to explain what Eva had told them—leaving out the part about the hidden staircase.

  “All very cryptic of Eva. She can be a little dramatic sometimes,” Chris observed.

  “You think?” Danielle said with a laugh.

  “She was always like that. I believe she is truly in her element as a spirit,” Walt said.

  “I’m just glad she moved on from the glitter,” Heather said.

  Danielle yawned and then asked, “What do you need me to do?” She glanced around the kitchen.

  “We have it under control,” Chris said. “Quiche is in the oven. I figure we’ll eat in about twenty minutes. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Quiche and bacon?” Danielle asked.

  Chris grinned. “Everything goes with bacon.”

  Danielle stood. “Would you mind if I ran over real quick and introduced myself to Ginny’s aunt and uncle?”

  “Go ahead,” Chris said. “I didn’t see their car out there earlier, but it could be in the garage.”

  “I see the Bellemore brothers are there again,” Walt noted.

  “They have been putting in some midnight oil,” Chris said.

  Chester stood, hands on hips, inspecting the piece of drywall they had hung the day before. “I wish we didn’t have to screw with this drywall.”

  “When they come back, it has to look like we did something when they were gone,” Cecil said. “Time is running out, and we’re damn lucky they had to go to Portland. Talk about luck. I think old Gramps is watching over us, cheering us on.”

  “Well, Gramps also said there was a treasure, but we haven’t found it yet.”

  “We will. Everything else was exactly like he said it would be, wasn’t it?”

  “Unless someone else already found it.”

  Cecil shook his head. “No way. That treasure is there. We just need to remove more bricks.”

  The doorbell rang and both brothers looked to the front door.

  “Who’s that?” Chester asked.

  “We won’t know until you answer it,” Cecil said.

  A few minutes later Chester inched the front door open and peeked outside. Standing on the front step was Danielle Marlow.

  “Hello,” Chester said, opening the door a few inches wider.

  “Wow. You guys are really putting in the long hours. And on a Sunday too. I was wondering, are the Crawfords here?”

  “I told you, they won’t be back until late tonight.”

  “But they returned yesterday,” Danielle said.

  “No, they didn’t.”

  Danielle frowned. “Are you saying they haven’t come back from Portland yet?”

  “It’s what I have been saying all along. And my brother talked to Mr. Crawford earlier this morning, and according to him, their plans haven’t changed. They won’t be back until tonight. So that means we really need to get as much done here before they get back. We were hoping to get finished before they come home. It can be such a mess working with drywall—dusty. I want to get it finished and cleaned, so if you will excuse me.”

  “Wait, can I ask you one last question,” Danielle said right before he shut the door on her.

  He eased the door back open and looked outside. “What?”

  “Do you have any idea where their niece is staying?” Danielle asked.

  “I have no idea.” Chester then shut the door. She heard the bolt lock.

  Danielle stared at the closed door a moment and then returned to Chris’s house.

  “I don’t understand,” Danielle said when she walked into Chris’s dining room a few minutes later. Walt and her friends were already seated at the table. “According to Chester Bellemore, they haven’t gotten back yet.”

  “They probably just left again. Ginny did say she couldn’t go with Evan to the Halloween party because they were doing something this afternoon,” Walt reminded her.

  Danielle took a seat at the table and shook her head. “No. According to Chester, they are still in Portland. They haven’t come back yet. Claimed they spoke with Mr. Crawford this morning, who was still in Portland at the time.”

  “Ginny didn’t go with them?” Heather asked.

  “Apparently not. I asked where she was staying, but he said he didn’t know.”

  “They are obviously having Ginny stay with someone they know in Frederickport, and we just misunderstood about her aunt and uncle coming back,” Walt suggested.

  “I suppose. That has to be it.” Danielle shrugged. “But to be honest, I don’t really think I misunderstood her. And it makes me uncomfortable knowing she might be lying to me. I like Ginny. But if she is hiding something…”

  “What else did Chester Bellemore say about Ginny?” Heather asked.

  “Nothing. I asked about the Crawfords, and just as he was about to close the door, I asked if he knew where their niece was staying, and he said he had no idea and slammed the door on me. Even locked it. What, was he afraid I was going to force my way in the house?”

  “Did he even know who Ginny was?” Heather asked.

  Confused, Danielle looked at Heather. “Like I said, I asked where their niece was staying, and he said he had no idea.”

  “Everyone has a niece. Did you ask him if he saw her?” Heather asked.

  “Not everyone has a niece. I don’t have one. And I don’t get your point,” Danie
lle said.

  “Welcome to my world,” Chris muttered under his breath only to receive a kick to his shin under the table from Heather.

  “Ouch!” Chris wailed.

  Heather looked at Chris and cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to kick you so hard.”

  “You can be mean,” Chris grumbled.

  Ignoring Chris, Heather asked, “When you asked him if he knew where the niece was staying, who is to say he knew you were talking about Ginny? Sounds to me like he was just trying to get you out of there so he could go back to work.”

  “I still don’t get your point,” Danielle said.

  “I think Ginny might be a ghost,” Heather said in her most spooky of voices.

  All heads at the table turned to Heather.

  “Ghost?” Danielle asked.

  “Sure. She just shows up out of nowhere,” Heather began, her voice low and menacing.

  “She didn’t just show up out of nowhere,” Chris said dryly. “I saw her arrive with her aunt and uncle.”

  “And who really saw her? You, me, Danielle, Walt, Evan, Eva and Marie. Just the mediums and spirits,” Heather went on.

  Chris waved his hand dismissively and said, “I quite distinctly recall Eddy talking to her.”

  “Yes, but did she talk back?” Heather asked. “Me thinks not.”

  “Me thinks not? Have you gone Shakespeare on us?” Chris asked.

  “I don’t want to kick you again,” Heather warned. She then said, “It would not be unusual for a ghost to move around a sheet, making it look as if someone was under it. And, to clinch it, she refused to wear the white makeup on her face like Evan. It was because…” Heather paused a moment for dramatic effect and then said in a burst, “She has no real face to put it on!”

  Danielle studied Heather for a moment and then reached over and snagged a slice of bacon from the plate sitting in the middle of the table.

  “That would be a great theory,” Danielle said as she took a bite of bacon, “but there is just one flaw.”

  “What is that?” Heather asked.

  “The chief and Eddy saw Ginny this morning in front of our house. They even talked to her and she talked back. So your little-girl-ghost theory, it doesn’t work.”

  Heather slumped down in the chair. “Drat.”

  The kitchen timer rang.

  “I would prefer she be alive,” Walt said.

  “Alive is good,” Chris agreed as he headed to the kitchen to take the quiche out of the oven.

  “I’m still trying to place Ginny. I have seen her before. I know it,” Walt said.

  “When?” Heather asked.

  “If I knew that, I would know where I have seen her before,” Walt reminded her.

  A few minutes later Chris returned to the table, carrying a crab quiche fresh out of the oven. He set it on the table.

  “Ginny is obviously staying with someone else while her aunt and uncle are gone. I can’t believe for a minute they would just leave her here alone. Especially considering the Bellemore brothers are working over there at all hours, and for whatever reason she lied to you about them coming back,” Chris said as he took a seat at the table.

  “Why would she lie about something like that?” Heather said.

  Chris considered the question a moment. “Maybe she is embarrassed. Or is staying with someone she doesn’t like. But her making up stories is not so surprising to me. While I was fairly young when I got out of foster care, I can still recall some of the elaborate stories a few of the older children would tell. They would make up stories about imaginary families who were going to take them in, or some imaginary aunt or uncle who was about to arrive any day to rescue them from the system. Sometimes all a child has is the imaginary world they create. It’s one way to survive.”

  Twenty-One

  Ginny stood alone on the beach, looking out to the ocean, her arms crossed over her chest, hugging the oversized sweater to her slim body. She glanced to her right and then left. No one else was on the beach with her, yet considering the weather, it didn’t surprise her. Tilting her head back for a moment, she looked up to the sky and studied the dark clouds, wondering when they would release the rain.

  She looked forward to seeing Evan again tonight and helping with the haunted house. If it had been possible, she would have accepted their invitation to the Halloween party. With a sigh she turned from the ocean and headed back toward the line of homes. She spied Chris’s house and wondered if he was home. When she reached his back patio a few minutes later, she peeked in the window. There, sitting around the dining room table, were Walt, Danielle, Chris and Heather. For a brief moment she had the urge to knock on the window and say hello.

  Instead, Ginny smiled sadly. She liked them all, especially Danielle. No one had ever made her anything before—certainly not a Halloween costume. Of course, Halloween was not something she ever celebrated, so there was never a need for a costume. She thought of Evan again, thinking how nice it was to have a friend. In her short life she had never lived in a neighborhood with other children.

  Perhaps if her parents had sent her to school, she could have made friends, but her father thought it a waste to educate a girl and felt she would be more useful at home, helping his wife with the chores.

  “Everything a girl needs to get by in this world can be learned at her mother’s side, cooking and cleaning,” he had told her. “School is a waste of time for a girl. And we need you at home.”

  Taking one final peek into Chris’s window, she noticed how they were all smiling, and it looked as if Chris was laughing at something. It seemed as if she had spent her entire existence watching other people’s lives—always the outsider. Turning from Chris’s window, Ginny made her way home.

  She remembered when her aunt and uncle first showed her the house, before they moved in. It didn’t feel like home then; it didn’t now. Of course, everything was different now. When she got closer, she noticed the construction workers’ truck parked out front and assumed the two men were inside. A moment later she peeked in one of the windows and spied the men standing in the master bedroom, obviously in a heated conversation. The taller man used hand gestures to punctuate his comments.

  With the two men occupied in the bedroom, Ginny hastily made her way to the side of the house to the kitchen entrance. Once inside, she went to the living room and looked around. She wondered what the men had been doing. They had already removed a section of the living room wall. When she had been there earlier, she had heard them saying something to Mia and Austin about the drywall being moldy. The section they had removed was now piled outside in the back of their pickup truck, but so far they hadn’t done anything to complete the repair, aside from nailing up a new piece of drywall.

  The boxes she had used as her fort remained piled in one corner. It didn’t look like they had been moved, yet there was something sitting on them. Moving closer, she saw the new object was a pair of dirt-covered leather work gloves.

  The next moment she heard the men’s voices coming in her direction. Ginny ducked behind her makeshift fort. When they entered the living room, she watched as they walked to the brick corner, their backs to her. It was then she realized something was different.

  They had removed the brass panel. It now rested on the floor, leaning against the back wall. To her surprise the brick corner was not all brick. With the brass panel now removed, she could see what appeared to be a wooden panel tucked in what looked like a brick frame. She frowned. Ginny had assumed the entire section was made of brick.

  Chester glanced at his watch. “If we don’t get this done before they return, it’s not going to be easy gaining the access we need.”

  “We will,” Cecil said. “Some things are meant to be. I believe that. Everything was exactly like Gramps told us it would be.”

  “Not everything. We haven’t found the treasure yet.”

  “But it is there,” Cecil insisted. “I can feel it.”

  Treasure? Ginny frowned. What treasure?


  “We aren’t going to find it standing here. I guess it’s my turn?” Chester asked.

  “Yeah. Let me get the flashlight. I put new batteries in.”

  Chester glanced around. “Where are the gloves?”

  “I set them over there, on the boxes.”

  While Cecil went to retrieve the flashlight with the new batteries, Chester walked over to the stack of boxes, unaware Ginny remained crouched on the other side.

  Reaching for the gloves, he accidentally knocked one of them off the top box. It landed just an inch from where Ginny sat.

  Walking around the boxes to retrieve the glove he had dropped, Chester looked down and froze.

  “What do we have here?” he asked.

  Before any of the haunted house crew arrived Sunday evening, Danielle double-checked the doorway from her old bedroom closet to the hidden staircase, making sure it was locked. She then locked the door into the attic master suite, the one room off-limits for the haunted house.

  She was on her way down the attic stairway to the second floor when an apparition appeared before her. It was Marie. The image of an elderly woman dressed in a bright floral sundress and floppy straw hat smiled sheepishly at Danielle.

  “You came back?” Danielle said.

  “I needed to talk to you. But I’m not staying.”

  “I thought you were going to help with the haunted house?” Danielle asked as she continued down the staircase.

  “I need to apologize. After all, I did tell you I would help, and I believe in honoring one’s commitments.”

  Stepping on the second-floor landing, Danielle glanced over to Marie and arched a brow. “But?”

  “Eva and I—well, we have more freedom than others. Something I need to be careful not to take advantage of,” Marie explained.

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Danielle said, now heading toward the stairs leading to the first floor.

  “Halloween is a time that affords other spirits—those not as privileged as Eva and me—a bit more latitude in dealing with what needs to be done for their eternity. If Eva and I interfere too much, well, it is a bit like playing God, and frankly I don’t want to seem as if I’ve gotten too big for my britches. Because you know what can happen then.”