The Ghost and the Halloween Haunt Page 16

  “I didn’t ask her to describe what he looked like,” Danielle said.

  “No, I don’t imagine you would,” Chris said with a chuckle. “That would be a little awkward. After all, you are supposed to know about all the fake dead bodies lying around your house.”

  “How many ghosts are crashing the haunted tour?” Heather asked.

  “I suspect at least two. We know the name of one—Annabelle Fortune,” Danielle said. “But she seems to be there for a more serious reason.”

  “Like Harvey,” Heather said.

  Danielle nodded.

  “I assume the other spirit is male,” Chris said. “The one pouring the tea in the parlor, and possibly responsible for the smiling head in a jar.”

  “Is he also responsible for the dead body?” Heather asked.

  “I don’t know. That stunt feels different somehow,” Danielle said. “The tea in the parlor—the smiling face—those seem more, well, lighthearted.”

  Chris laughed, handing Danielle back her phone. “Lighthearted? Says the woman who won’t go in there until she covers the jar with a towel.”

  “I know what Dani means,” Lily said. “Those stunts feel more like something you’d see in an Abbott and Costello movie, but the body in the hidden stairwell feels more Stephen King.”

  “You said you called for the spirit? Asked him to show himself,” Heather asked.

  “Yes. But to be honest, after I called out, it didn’t feel like anyone was there, not like I was being ignored. I felt like whatever spirit had been there was gone. Out of range,” Danielle explained.

  “Perhaps we should have a séance?” Heather suggested. “Or maybe just try a Ouija board!”

  “Ahh, the pathway to the devil, the Ouija board,” Chris said in an ominous voice.

  “You think that’s true?” Heather asked. “Do Ouija boards attract demonic forces?”

  Chris shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never used a Ouija board.”

  “Me either,” Danielle said.

  “Are you saying you have never used a Ouija board?” Walt asked in surprise.

  “No, have you?” Danielle asked.

  “Certainly. It was actually pretty common back during my first go-around. It was amusing. At the time I never seriously believed a spirit was responsible for making the planchette move. Of course, now I’m wondering if we really contacted spirits back then,” Walt said.

  “I bought a Ouija board from a yard sale when I was in high school,” Heather began. “And when I brought it home, my mother absolutely flipped out. I didn’t even get to try it. Mom swore it was a portal into hell.”

  “Did your mother watch The Exorcist?” Ian asked with a chuckle.

  “I think so, why?” Heather asked.

  “Ouija boards were popular and accepted during the first part of the twentieth century. Like Walt said, they were quite common. I read an interesting article about the history of Ouija boards on the Smithsonian Magazine website. Talked about how it wasn’t until The Exorcist came out in the early 1970s did the Ouija board assume its demon-attracting reputation. Especially among the Christian churches,” Ian explained. He then added, “It was around for about a century before it became a portal to hell.”

  “Some people think Harry Potter is evil too,” Danielle said.

  “So what are you going to do?” Lily asked. “I mean about the ghosts crashing the haunted house.”

  “I suppose all we can do is wait until they tell us what they want—assuming it’s something more than Halloween mischief,” Danielle said.

  “There is always the Ouija board,” Heather reminded her.

  Twenty-Five

  Leaning against one arm of the sofa, her bare feet tucked under her on the cushion, Danielle stared blankly at the space in the library where Annabelle Fortune had been floating the night before. Still wearing her flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt, Danielle considered all she must do today before the haunted house reopened. Tomorrow was Halloween, and then the random hauntings should stop.

  Walt walked into the room, carrying two cups of coffee. He handed one to Danielle.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, shifting slightly on the sofa to make room for Walt.

  “Any visitors this morning?” he asked as he sat down.

  “No.” Danielle sipped her coffee and then asked, “And you?”

  “No. But I keep thinking about Annabelle.”

  Danielle turned on the sofa so she could better see Walt. “And?”

  “I wonder, did she leave for good last night? I answered her questions, so does that mean she has no reason to come back?”

  “Maybe she’s still here somewhere,” Danielle suggested.

  “You think so?”

  Danielle took another sip and considered Walt’s question a moment and then said, “How peculiar it is she would wait so long to come here to talk to you, especially since she believes the unanswered question is holding her back. But then I remember she is a spirit, and their notion of time is so different from ours.” She paused and looked seriously to Walt, studying him a moment before asking, “Do you notice the difference now? From when you were a spirit?”

  Cupping the warm mug of coffee between the palms of his hands, Walt leaned back on the sofa, stretching out his long legs. “I noticed a difference after you first moved here.”

  “Yes, but you were still a spirit. I mean, a difference now that you’re alive again.”

  “I believe spending more time in the living world—even when one is a spirit—tends to give you a more human grasp of situations, as opposed to the perspective of one dwelling primarily in the spirit world. And then, of course, once I did cross back over, there are some elements from my time as a spirit that have slipped from my memory, just out of reach, vaguely there. But I instinctively know, when it is my time again, I’ll remember.”

  “Whatever the reasons for Annabelle coming now and not sooner, I can’t believe she’s simply going to accept your answer and return to the cemetery and never come back. Just because you didn’t have the answer she wanted doesn’t mean you can’t find it. I’m curious, what did Abe Fortune do for your grandfather?”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not really sure. My grandfather had always been a robust, healthy man. I imagine he assumed he would be around for many more years. And because of that, there were elements of his business he didn’t share with me. Truth was, it didn’t particularly bother me. I dreaded the idea of taking over the company. I didn’t want it. But neither of us counted on the influenza taking him. It almost took me.”

  “Did he work in your grandfather’s factory?” Danielle asked.

  “No. That I’m sure of. I understood him to be something of an errand boy—one my grandfather depended on. But when the company sold, there really wasn’t a place for him, so it didn’t surprise me he left town. Part of his employment with my grandfather included the house down the street. I would have worked something out with him if he had wanted to stay, but we never had the opportunity to discuss it. He just left.”

  “And he didn’t take his wife with him,” Danielle added.

  “True. But it was not uncommon for some men when they had a change of fortune to take off and abandon their wives, their families. I felt bad for her, but I didn’t really know either one of them.”

  “I wonder what he wanted to talk to you about?” Danielle murmured.

  Walt shook his head. “I have no idea. But he didn’t come to the house. Or if he did, I wasn’t home.”

  “Perhaps we should consider that séance,” Danielle suggested, only half joking.

  “Or pick up a Ouija board? See if we can summon the spirit of Abe Fortune, ask what happened to him,” Walt teased.

  “This proves one thing,” Danielle said.

  “What is that?”

  “When I was younger, I always imagined a spirit could easily reach out to any other spirit, even someone they hadn’t known in life. Heck, even one who had moved on. Like they al
l had access to this spiritual intercom system. Hello, ring up Elvis Presley. Oh, wait, that wouldn’t work anyway. I heard he isn’t really dead.”

  Walt smiled at Danielle and quietly sipped his coffee.

  “But now I know that’s not true. It certainly isn’t for Annabelle.”

  “You are forgetting, it’s also possible some spirits may not want to be found by another. No different from when they were alive,” Walt reminded her. “Look at Eva, she avoided the local cemetery because Angela was there. And if Abe did run away from his wife, why would he suddenly want to see her again just because they’re both dead?”

  Danielle let out a sigh and said, “True. If he really did abandon her, there’s no reason to believe he’ll want to see her now.”

  Walt nodded. “Exactly.”

  “If that’s true, it’s rather sucky of him. Leaving her hanging like that.”

  “Agreed. So what are you going to do today?” Walt asked.

  Danielle glanced at her watch. “Well, I need to get dressed. Have something to eat, and then see if Ginny’s aunt and uncle are back.”

  “You’re going to try meeting them?” Walt asked.

  “Yes. I’d like to introduce myself. But I don’t want Ginny coming over tonight and helping. Not with all that’s going on. And then I need to go over and talk to the chief. You want to come with me?”

  “I think I should stay here,” Walt said. “If Annabelle comes back, I can talk to her. She must know more about her husband’s job with my grandfather than she told me. Perhaps if I know more, we can figure out what happened to Abe Fortune.”

  “You might try some internet sleuthing,” Danielle suggested. “It is very possible he will pop up somewhere. Another job in another town. Maybe even another family. At least then she’ll know what happened to him,” Danielle suggested.

  “Good idea.”

  “And, Walt, if you run into the spirit responsible for the body—find out why. Is it just a Halloween prank? If so, maybe convince him—or her—to stop leading people to our hidden staircase.”

  The air was damp and chilly, and the sky looked more gray than cloudy. Danielle wore blue jeans, an untucked flannel shirt, knee-high boots, a knit cap and a heavy jacket, her hands buried deep in its pockets as she walked up the street. When she reached the Crawfords’ house, she noticed their car—she assumed it was their car—in the driveway, and there was no sign of the Bellemores’ pickup truck.

  Standing on the Crawford front porch a few minutes later, she rang the bell and then quickly tucked her hand back in her coat pocket for warmth. A moment later the door opened, and she found herself facing a man she had never seen before. He briefly looked her up and down before fixing his eyes back on her face.

  “Mr. Crawford?” Danielle asked hesitantly.

  “Yes. Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Hello,” Danielle smiled and then offered her right hand. “I’m one of your neighbors, Danielle Marlow.”

  He took her hand and shook it, a slight frown of confusion on his face. “Which house is yours?”

  “I’m Danielle Marlow from Marlow House,” she said.

  “Who is it?” a woman called from inside the house before appearing by Mr. Crawford’s side. She looked Danielle up and down curiously.

  “Mia, this is our neighbor Danielle Marlow. She tells me she lives at Marlow House.” He turned back to Danielle and asked, “Where exactly is that?”

  “Marlow House, you know, where the haunted house is,” Danielle explained.

  He still looked confused, and then his wife gave him a little nudge and said cheerfully, “I showed you, that big old Victorian on the other side of the street a few doors down.” She looked back to Danielle and said, “I normally would love all that spooky Halloween stuff. If we had the time, I’d love to go through your haunted house. But we have been so busy with the move, doncha know.”

  She glanced at her watch and then looked back to Danielle. “It was nice meeting you. Although I don’t believe we were properly introduced. I’m Mia Crawford. You’ve already met my husband, Austin. But I really must run, I start a new job at the elementary school, and I need to be there in thirty minutes. I’d like to be early on my first day.”

  “School? Are you a teacher?” Danielle asked. “My friend Lily, also one of our neighbors, was a second-grade teacher there until she took off for maternity leave.”

  “Teacher? Oh no. Secretarial. I’d much rather be in an office than a classroom.” She flashed Danielle a smile and turned, prepared to dash off.

  “I was just wondering if I could talk to you a moment about your niece,” Danielle said quickly.

  Mia turned in her tracks and faced Danielle with a frown.

  “Niece?” Austin asked.

  “Yes, Ginny. Very sweet girl. We’ve really enjoyed her,” Danielle explained.

  “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” Austin said.

  “We don’t have a niece,” Mia said. “I have two nephews. Horrid little demons. Not sure a niece would be much better. But, no, we don’t have a niece.”

  “I’m talking about Ginny,” Danielle said.

  Austin shrugged. “I’m sorry. You must have us confused with another neighbor. I don’t know a Ginny.” He turned to his wife and asked, “Do you?”

  Mia shook her head.

  “Cute little blonde girl, around nine or ten years old. Big blue eyes?” Danielle said.

  The man shrugged. “Sorry. I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “I do hope you find your Ginny,” Mia said. She turned and went back into her house and grabbed her purse and car keys. As she rushed out the front door by Danielle a moment later, she said a hasty goodbye before getting in her car and driving off.

  Danielle stared dumbly at her neighbor as she drove away.

  Austin cleared his throat to get Danielle’s attention. She turned back to him.

  “Was there anything else?” he asked.

  “Umm…no. I guess not,” Danielle stammered, reluctantly adding, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  A few minutes later Danielle stood on Chris’s front porch, ringing the bell. When he opened the door a minute later, Hunny greeted Danielle with a wiggling backside and sloppy kisses.

  “Any more ghost sightings?” Chris asked as he opened the door wider for Danielle to enter.

  “Ginny isn’t their niece,” Danielle blurted.

  “What are you talking about?” Chris asked.

  Ten minutes later Chris and Danielle sat together at his breakfast bar, drinking coffee and eating cinnamon rolls. Danielle had just told him what the Crawfords had said. Chris sat quietly, digesting the information and tearing off pieces of cinnamon roll before popping them in his mouth.

  “But I saw her with them,” Chris finally said. “She went in the house with the wife right after they got here.”

  “I described what she looks like. They acted like they had no idea who I was talking about.”

  “Maybe she’ll show up tonight and you can ask her what’s going on,” Chris suggested.

  “If she shows up. She said she would be there last night. And we know she probably did lie. When I asked her about her aunt and uncle being out of town, she claimed they had come back early, but the Bellemore brothers said they were still out of town.”

  “But according to the Crawfords, they are not the aunt and uncle,” Chris reminded her. “So perhaps she was talking about someone else, and we just assumed it was the neighbors.”

  “But you just said you saw her with them. And when I described her, they acted like they had no idea who I was talking about.”

  With a sigh, Chris set his coffee cup on the counter and said, “I think you need to turn this over to the chief. Let him look into it.”

  Twenty-Six

  Before leaving for the police station, Danielle called the chief, letting him know she needed to talk to him. It was almost eleven a.m. when she finally arrived.

  “Wh
at’s going on?” the chief asked once Danielle took a chair after closing his office door for privacy.

  “I’m not sure where to begin,” Danielle said. “So much has happened since last night. But I think for the moment I’m most concerned about Ginny.”

  “Ginny? What’s the problem?”

  Danielle went on to tell the chief about her encounter with the Crawfords and what Chris had told her about seeing Ginny with his new neighbors.

  When she finished with the telling, MacDonald let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Do you happen to have a picture of her? I know you were taking pictures every night.”

  “Only with her costume on. I was always so busy when she arrived—before putting on her costume—I never got a chance to get her picture,” Danielle told him.

  “Evan told me some disturbing things about her,” the chief said.

  “Disturbing how?” she asked.

  “When they had some downtime—waiting for the next round of people coming through the haunted house—they’d talk. She told Evan about how her parents had died. Sounds like her father was fairly abusive, and her mother wasn’t much better. There was a fire; she was the only one to get out. According to her, her only family was her uncle and his wife. But he wasn’t thrilled to take her in. Ginny told Evan how lucky he was to have a father who loved him. She said she didn’t know what that felt like.”

  “That’s horrible,” Danielle said.

  “But now I’m wondering what is going on. If the Crawfords aren’t her aunt and uncle, did she lie about everything? And where is she?” the chief said.

  “Maybe the Crawfords lied. I know they lied or conveniently forgot about her being with them when they moved in,” Danielle reminded him.

  “Which is a chilling thought.” He sat up straight and pulled his phone to him.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “First, I want to get a picture of Ginny so it’ll be a little easier to ask around. Find out who she really is. I noticed the clothes she was wearing the other day looked to be pretty old and didn’t fit her properly. Is she homeless?” he suggested.