The Ghost and the Halloween Haunt Read online

Page 5


  Danielle scrunched her nose at Brian. “Whatever.”

  Joe cringed. “Yeah, that was pretty terrifying seeing you three coming out of those flames. That place was always a magnet for trouble on Halloween.”

  “It was a shame to lose that house,” Danielle said. “But I’m just grateful Lily and I didn’t lose our lives.”

  Ten minutes later Danielle was alone with the chief in his office, enjoying a cup of coffee Brian had brought her.

  “It is a refreshing change seeing you and Brian get along,” the chief said after Brian left his office, closing the door behind him.

  Danielle lifted her cup to the chief in mock salute and said, “And I always enjoy a cup of coffee.”

  The chief smiled and leaned back in his chair, his own coffee mug in hand. “Evan tells me he met a new friend.”

  “Yes, Ginny. She moved in with her aunt and uncle to Pete Rogers’s old house,” Danielle explained. “She seems like a sweet girl.”

  “Evan tells me she lost both her parents.”

  Danielle nodded. “That’s what she told Evan.”

  The chief shook his head in sympathy. “I suspect that might have been a bonding moment for Evan. I don’t think he’s ever had a friend who, like him, doesn’t have a mother.”

  “When I was little, I had a friend who had lost her mother. When we were in high school, she once told me how it always made her feel different. Everyone else had a mother but her.”

  The chief nodded. “Yes. I’ve talked about this with both boys. It’s not uncommon for a child who has lost a parent to feel different from his friends. It really bothered Evan that she lost both parents.”

  “I have to admit we had to give Evan a little nudge to go introduce himself to her. After all, she is a girl.” Danielle chuckled.

  “The way he was talking about her last night, he didn’t seem to have a problem with her being a girl.”

  “No, they hit it off. In fact, he brought her inside and introduced us to her and then gave her a tour of the house. We invited her to stay for pizza, but she said she had to get home. She’s returning this afternoon so I can make her and Evan ghost costumes. Evan asked if she could help during the haunted house, and I said yes, as long as it was okay with her aunt and uncle.”

  “I know both boys are looking forward to it,” the chief said. “Eddy tells me you’re going to wrap him up like a mummy, and he gets to wander the house.”

  “Yes. Chris is wrapping up like a mummy, too. Actually it’s more like a mummy costume, no actual wrapping involved. I don’t know if Evan told you, but Chris got us a real casket, which they set up in the downstairs bedroom. Chris plans to lie in it and pop up to scare people when they come through.”

  “Yes, Evan told me all about it. He thought it was very cool,” MacDonald told her. “Umm…are you planning to have Eddy get in the casket?”

  Danielle grinned and shook her head. “I don’t want to scar your eldest child. So no. But I will have to tell you, Evan climbed right in to check it out. It didn’t seem to bother him at all.”

  After leaving the police station, Danielle headed over to the museum. Overhead gray clouds filled the sky, and in the distance she spied a flash of lightning. While a stormy night might provide the right ambiance for the event, Danielle wasn’t thrilled with the thought of wet and muddy shoes tromping through her house.

  She pulled into the museum parking lot and parked her car. After turning off the engine, she glanced to her left and noticed a truck parked several spaces over. On its door it read Bellemore Construction. She frowned, trying to remember why that name sounded familiar. Just as she pulled the key from the ignition, she had her answer when two men got into the truck before driving off.

  A few minutes later Danielle walked into the museum and was greeted by Millie Samson.

  “Are you here to collect the ticket money?” Millie asked when Danielle walked into the museum gift store.

  “Yes. How did the presale go?” Danielle asked.

  “It looks like this is going to be a success!” Millie said before handing Danielle an envelope.

  “I noticed the Bellemore brothers leaving the museum. Are they going to be doing some work here?” Danielle asked.

  “Who?” Millie frowned.

  “The two men who left just a minute ago,” Danielle explained.

  “They never told me their name.”

  “I met them yesterday. They’re new in town. Stopped by Marlow House and introduced themselves. They’re general contractors. They own the Bellemore Construction company. Apparently they specialize in Victorian house renovation,” Danielle told her.

  “That might explain all the questions they asked. They seemed very curious about some of the older homes—especially those built when the town was first founded. What did you say their name was again?” Millie asked.

  “Bellemore.”

  Millie frowned as she considered the name.

  “What is it?” Danielle asked.

  “There is just something familiar about that name. Hmm…what is it?”

  Danielle shrugged. “Doesn’t sound familiar to me.”

  “I know!” Millie said at last. “That was the name of the man who built Marlow House!”

  “Frederick Marlow built Marlow House,” Danielle reminded her.

  Millie smiled at Danielle and shook her head. “No. He had the house built, but he wasn’t the one who built it. It was built by a man named Bellemore. I remember coming across that information when we put together the Marlow exhibit. Bellemore built a number of the older homes in town. I believe he died not long after Frederick Marlow did.”

  “I doubt it’s the same Bellemore family,” Danielle said.

  “It is a small world, but I suspect you’re right.”

  “Did they happen to say where they were from?” Danielle asked.

  “No. Just that they recently moved to town and would like to learn more about the community. They seemed most interested in the older homes. But if you say they specialize in Victorian restorations, I suppose that makes sense they would be asking where the older houses are.”

  “I don’t think I can eat in this room with that head looking at me,” Danielle said as she stood in the kitchen, holding the bag of burgers she had picked up for lunch. She glared down at the jar with the head. It looked insanely real.

  Walt eyed the ghoulish Halloween decoration and said, “I swear the eyes follow you.”

  “I have to say, the kitchen looks pretty creepy. How about we eat in the library?” Danielle suggested.

  Fifteen minutes later Walt and Danielle sat in the library eating lunch.

  “I don’t imagine we’ll be doing much cooking in our kitchen until after Halloween,” Danielle said before taking a bite of her burger.

  “No. While Heather did an amazing job, it’s not very appetizing.”

  Danielle chuckled and took another bite. A few minutes later she asked, “Do you remember a man named Bellemore? According to Millie, he built Marlow House.”

  Walt nodded. “Certainly. Chester Bellemore. He did good work, but I never cared for the man.”

  “Chester?” Danielle frowned.

  “Yes. How did his name happen to come up?”

  “Are you sure his first name was Chester?” she asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  Danielle shook her head in disbelief. “Weird coincidence. Remember those men who stopped by yesterday?”

  “The ones handing out their business cards?” Walt asked. “They did construction?”

  “Yes. I don’t think I mentioned it before. But their last name was Bellemore, and their company is Bellemore Construction.” She then went on to tell Walt about her visit to the museum.

  When she was done, Walt said, “I seriously doubt it’s the same Bellemore family.”

  “But one of the brothers was named Chester.”

  “So?”

  “Don’t you think it’s an odd coincidence?”

  Walt shrug
ged. “I suppose it’s possible he’s a great-grandson or something.”

  “Millie said Bellemore died right after your grandfather.”

  After wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin, Walt said, “Yes. He was probably in his seventies by then. His son also worked for my grandfather—Thomas Bellemore. Thomas was not happy when I sold the company. Although, I suppose in retrospect, I can’t say I blame him. But I think he was most upset when I sold a house he wanted to buy to someone else.”

  “Why did you do that?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t intentional,” Walt said with a shrug. “After Grandfather died, I sold off a number of properties. I certainly didn’t feel I needed to check with Thomas Bellemore to see if he wanted to purchase something. It was only after the house sold that he came to me, furious. Said I shouldn’t have sold it and asked me to cancel the deal and sell it to him.”

  “What did you tell him?” Danielle asked.

  “That it was too late. In fact, it was the house next door to Chris.”

  “You don’t mean Pete Rogers’s old house?”

  “I suppose it was,” Walt said. “Chris mentioned it to me last night after Evan made friends with his new neighbor. Adam told Chris I used to own that property. Apparently the original house—the one I sold—burned down some time ago, and they rebuilt on the spot.”

  “And you used to own it?” Danielle said in surprise.

  “My grandfather did. I owned it just a short time. I haven’t thought about that house in years. And the times we’ve been over at Chris’s, it never occurred to me I once owned the property next door. But like I said, that was a long time ago, and my family used to own a lot of property in Frederickport.”

  “Marie once mentioned to me her family home was one of the first houses built on that side of the street.”

  “True, but the house that used to be next door to Chris’s was almost as old.”

  Eight

  Crumpling the paper that had held her now eaten burger, Danielle balled it up and stuffed it in the to-go paper sack. Grabbing a napkin off a nearby table, she wiped her mouth and then said, “From what I understand, that house was owned for years by Pete Rogers’s in-laws. His wife inherited the house, and then he got it.”

  “I sold it to the Michaelses,” Walt told her.

  “I’m pretty sure that was Pete’s wife’s maiden name,” Danielle said. “I bet the ones you sold it to were his wife’s grandparents, not parents.”

  “When I knew the Michaelses, they didn’t have any children. Although, they were raising his sister’s child. That’s why I agreed to sell them the house.”

  “Why is that?” Danielle asked.

  “Michaels’s sister married a no-good rummy,” Walt told her.

  “Umm, is that some sort of ethnic slur?” Danielle asked.

  Walt chuckled. “I have no idea what his ethnicity was, other than he was white and habitually unemployed. But he drank a lot and was a bum. They lived in a broken-down house outside town, and his wife used to clean houses. Not sure what he ever did but drink and run moonshine. Not good moonshine, either.”

  “And you would know.” Danielle snickered.

  Walt shrugged. “The bad stuff could kill you, or at least make you go blind. I was surprised he hadn’t lost his sight before he burned down his house, killing him and his wife. Their daughter managed to escape.”

  “Did he burn it down on purpose?” Danielle asked.

  “I doubt it. I don’t think he was the type to kill himself, but he didn’t have a problem knocking around his wife and kid.”

  “Nice guy,” Danielle said dryly.

  “Anyway, Michaels and his wife took in the child, but they were renting a room in town. The three of them couldn’t very well live in one small room at the boardinghouse, they needed someplace to live, so I gave them a good deal on the house,” Walt explained.

  “A house with an ocean view. For someone struggling, it sounds pretty extravagant.”

  “From what I remember, they used some money from a life insurance policy his sister had to help buy the property.”

  “Who was living in the house before you sold it to Michaels? You mentioned Bellemore wanted to buy it,” Danielle asked. She stuffed the used napkin she had been holding into the to-go sack and looked at Walt, waiting for him to continue.

  Walt considered the question a moment, trying to remember the tenants’ names. Finally he said, “Fortune. Abe and Annabelle Fortune. I suppose had he not run off, I wouldn’t have thought about selling the house.”

  “Was it just a rental?” Danielle asked.

  “Not really. It was owned by my grandfather’s company. Fortune worked for my grandfather—never cared for the guy. Always seemed like he was hiding something. Anyway, not long after my grandfather died and it was announced I would be selling the company, Fortune took off. Left his pretty wife high and dry. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. She came to my house demanding I tell her what I’d done with him.”

  “She thought you had something to do with him leaving?” Danielle asked.

  “To be honest, I was never sure what she really thought. She was so distraught. He’d been gone for a couple of weeks, and she was frantic to find him. She came pounding on my door in tears. I wasn’t sure what to do. One of her friends showed up a few minutes later. I suspect they knew she was planning to come over here, and they were checking on her. The friend calmed her down and took her home.”

  “How sad.” Danielle considered what Walt had just told her and then frowned at him. “Are you saying you evicted that poor distraught woman?”

  Walt shook his head. “No. I would have let her stay and worked out something. But she died days later.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some fisherman found her on the beach early one morning. She was soaking wet, freezing cold and delirious. She died later that morning but not before telling them she had been looking for her husband—insisting he had been calling for her, begging for her help.”

  “Did she go mad in her grief?” Danielle asked.

  “Not sure what happened. I went to her funeral,” Walt explained. “There I ran into the friend who had calmed her down at my house and took her home. She felt guilty, believing she should have done more to help. According to her, Annabelle had been having dreams about her husband—dreams where he begged for her to help him. Annabelle, in her grief, had come to believe they weren’t just dreams, that he was really calling for her.”

  “How soon after that did you sell the house to Michaels? You said Bellemore wanted the house, but you had already sold it.”

  “Thomas had gone to London for his father’s funeral. That’s where Chester Bellemore was originally from, where he wanted to be buried. While he was gone, I announced my intentions to sell the company.”

  “What did he do for the Marlow Shipping Line?” Danielle asked.

  “The elder Bellemore had worked for my grandfather for years, supervising the construction of Marlow’s various real estate interests and later managing the properties. His son had been groomed to take over. But now I was selling the business and disinvesting in properties. I wouldn’t be needing him.”

  “I don’t imagine he was thrilled with you.”

  “No. But the father had made a fortune from our family, which Thomas had just inherited after his father’s death. It wasn’t as if he was going to starve. He returned to Frederickport after Annabelle’s funeral. Until then, he had no idea Abe Fortune had taken off, or that Abe’s wife had died of exposure.”

  “Or of a broken heart,” Danielle muttered.

  “Yes, probably more the broken heart,” Walt agreed. “Bellemore’s son was furious when he returned and learned I was selling the house. He said I should have given him the first right of refusal, claimed my grandfather had always promised him the house. It was the first I’d heard about it, but I had already agreed to sell it to Michaels, and I was not about to go back on my word. Plus, I didn’t pa
rticularly want Bellemore as a neighbor.”

  “So he left town after that?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes, but not before breaking into Michaels’s house before they moved in,” Walt said.

  “Seriously? Why would he break in?”

  “Technically speaking, the first time he didn’t really break in, considering he had his own key and his job until that point had included managing that property. I found him in the house just hours after he had returned from Europe. He told me he had heard about Abe and Annabelle and wanted to know if it was true. That’s when he offered to buy the house.”

  “And the other time?”

  “When I refused to sell him the house, I asked for the key back. The Fortunes’ personal property had already been removed, the house cleaned. There was just some furniture, which I was leaving for the new owners. Nothing of any real value. But then I caught him in the house later that night. I didn’t call the police, and he didn’t stick around and explain why he was there, or how he had gotten in. I imagine he had another key.”

  “You think he was looking for something?” she suggested.

  “Perhaps, but like I said, we’d already removed all the Fortunes’ personal property. When I arrived, he just left without a word. I never saw him again. I heard he left town three days later.”

  Danielle stood up and gathered all the trash from their lunch. She stuffed it all in the paper to-go sack.

  “Did the Michaelses turn out to be better neighbors than Bellemore?” Danielle asked.

  “Since Bellemore was never my neighbor, I have no way to compare. But I really didn’t have much to do with them. We ran in different crowds. From what I recall, they were pretty involved with their church. Unlike his late brother-in-law, I don’t think Michaels ever took a drink of alcohol. I believe he was quite content with prohibition.”

  “What happened to the niece?” she asked.

  “No idea. When I returned from Europe, she was no longer living with them.”

  “Interesting how things work out,” Danielle murmured, holding the trash from their lunch.