The Ghost and Little Marie Page 8

“Well…when I left this morning, I didn’t stop to change my clothes.”

  “And your feet don’t hurt? Walking all over town barefooted?”

  Marie frowned and looked back down at her feet. “No. Until you mentioned it, I didn’t even notice I had bare feet.”

  “And you’re walking pretty well for someone who just broke her hip and had surgery. All the way from the care home to the police station—and then here.”

  Marie looked quickly to Danielle, confusion wrinkling her forehead. “How did you know I went down to the police station first?”

  “The chief called me.”

  Marie let out a little grunt and said, “And I have a few choice words to say to him. I go down there for help, and what does he do? He totally ignores me!”

  “Don’t blame the chief. He couldn’t see you,” Danielle said softly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He was looking right at me,” Marie snapped. “Ask Evan, he knows I was there.”

  “Yes, I know. Evan told his father.”

  “Danielle, you are not making any sense!”

  “Marie, please. Think. What was it your daughter-in-law said? You didn’t answer my question a moment ago.” Danielle glanced to the house. Standing at the window were Jason and his fiancée, staring at her.

  “If you have something to say, Danielle. Just say it!”

  “I think we need to go. Your grandson is going to think I’m crazy, sitting in my car talking to myself.”

  “You’re not by yourself. I’m here!”

  Danielle slipped her car key into the ignition and turned it on. “True. But he can’t see you.”

  Marie sat quietly in the passenger seat as Danielle drove the car down the street, away from Marie’s house.

  After a few moments of silence, Marie blurted, “Holy hell, I’m dead!”

  Danielle glanced quickly over at Marie. She was relieved to see her friend did not seem particularly upset with the realization; in fact, by her expression, she seemed more curious than concerned. Letting out a sigh of relief, Danielle relaxed as she drove toward Marlow House.

  Marie stared at her own hands, turning them from right to left. She then extended her right hand, sending it through the closed window of the passenger door. Marie watched in fascination as she wiggled the fingers on the hand now on the outside of the car—the closed window a penetrable barrier.

  “Does this mean I’m a ghost?” Marie pulled her hand back inside the car and turned to face Danielle. She seemed rather excited at the prospect.

  “Just so you know, some spirits don’t like being called ghosts.” Danielle chuckled.

  “I’ve never really been afraid of dying. But I have to say, I never quite imagined that when I did, I would be driving around in your car with you, discussing my death. I just figured I would go to heaven…I never thought I did anything bad enough to go to hell. Does this mean there is no heaven or hell?”

  Danielle shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly what happens. But spirits move on after they die—to another realm. Maybe it’s heaven. I’m pretty sure when you go there, you’ll see all your loved ones and friends who have passed on.

  “Sometimes, after a person dies, their spirit stays on this plane for a while. I suspect you’ll move on fairly quickly now that you’ve figured it out. But I have to say, I’m really glad you didn’t move on right away. Because I’m really going to miss you, Marie. You have no idea how much you’ve meant to me.” Tears began slipping down Danielle’s face.

  “Oh, my dear…” Marie reached out to touch Danielle’s arm, yet her hand slipped through it, as it had through the closed window. Abruptly pulling her hand back, Marie stared at it for a moment and muttered, “I guess I really am dead.”

  Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve, Danielle sniffled. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Marie settled back in the car seat and smiled. “Don’t be silly, dear. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Twelve

  “So, you’re telling me Walt Marlow’s ghost has been haunting Marlow House since he died? And you can see him? Talk to him?” Marie asked incredulously.

  Danielle pulled the Ford Flex into her driveway. “Pretty much. But don’t call him a ghost. Walt hates that.” She parked the car and turned off the ignition. Danielle made no attempt to get out of the vehicle. Sitting in the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel, she glanced from Marie to Marlow House and back to Marie, who continued to sit in the passenger seat.

  “And you never told me?”

  Danielle smiled over to Marie. She removed the key from the ignition and reached for her door’s handle. “Would you have believed me?”

  Marie considered the question a moment. “Probably not. While I’ve never dismissed the possibility of such things—after all, I did see my mother—I have to admit when people claim to have actually communicated with someone who has died, I usually think they’re a little nutty.”

  “Pretty common assumption.” Just as Danielle got out of the car and slammed its door shut, she heard someone call her name. She glanced toward the open gate. It was Lily, running in her direction.

  Marie, who had just gotten out of the car, stood between Danielle and Lily. She turned to Lily and started to greet her, yet was stopped abruptly when Lily ran through her body. Letting out a surprised gasp, Marie looked down—still clad in her dressing gown, her feet bare—Marie’s eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion. She twirled around to face the backside of Lily, who now stood a few feet from her, slightly out of breath.

  “Any news of Marie?” Lily asked. “Do you think she’s moved on?”

  Danielle pointed over Lily’s shoulder.

  Lily cringed and then turned around slowly. “Oh no…did I run through Marie?”

  “I assume Lily can’t see me?” Marie asked.

  “No. But she knows I can see spirits.”

  Marie chuckled. “Well, this is all very interesting.”

  “I’m so sorry, Marie. Not just because I plowed through you, but because…well…because you died.” Lily began to cry.

  “Well, dear, we knew it was going to happen eventually, and I’ve lived a very long life. Plus, I have to admit, this is all very thrilling. I haven’t had this much excitement since…well, I’m not sure when!” Marie reached out to touch Lily’s arm. When her hand moved through the young woman with no reaction from Lily, Marie arched her brows curiously and then took back her hand, inspecting it.

  “It’s okay, Lily. Marie’s not upset,” Danielle said.

  After a few minutes, Lily stopped crying. With a sniffle, she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m glad she hasn’t moved on yet. I really wanted to tell her goodbye.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, dear. I’m not going anywhere,” Marie said cheerfully. She then marched into Marlow House, moving through the kitchen door as effortlessly as Lily had moved through her.

  Danielle stared at the door for a moment, not following Marie inside.

  “Marie, I just want you to—”

  “She isn’t here,” Danielle interrupted. “She just went into the house.”

  “Ugh…why do they always do that to me?” Lily groaned. “Well, I guess I can tell her inside how much I’m going to miss her.”

  “According to Marie, she isn’t going anywhere just yet,” Danielle said as she unlocked the back door.

  Walt was sitting at the kitchen table when Marie stormed through the wall. She stopped abruptly when she saw him, her eyes wide.

  “It really is you!” Marie gasped.

  “Hello, Marie. It’s been a long time.” The chair next to Walt moved out from the table. He nodded toward it, silently suggesting she sit down.

  Accepting the invitation, her eyes never leaving him, she studied his face. “I believe I would recognize you anywhere. You look remarkably like your portrait.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Walt smiled.

  Marie continued to study him, her head cocking slightly to o
ne side. “You know, I dreamt about you not long ago. I swear, your voice sounded just like it does in real life.”

  “Real life?” Walt chuckled.

  Marie shrugged and glanced around. “Or whatever this is.”

  The back door opened.

  “I suspect the reason you recognized my voice, I did visit you in your dream. That was my real voice.”

  Danielle walked into the kitchen, followed by Lily, who shut the door after them.

  “Really?” Marie perked up. “We can do that? Visit people’s dreams?”

  Walt smiled. “Yes.”

  “Wonderful!” Marie was practically giddy. “This is much more interesting than I imagined it would be.”

  “Hello, Walt,” Danielle greeted him, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Hey, Walt,” Lily added, still standing. She glanced to the seemingly empty chairs at the table.

  Walt smiled. “Ladies…”

  Lily let out a sigh. “I imagine you three have a lot to discuss. I’ll take off so you can do that. One-sided conversations drive me insane. But before I leave, I want to say, Marie…” Lily glanced around, trying to figure out where Marie was in the room.

  Danielle pointed to one of the seemingly empty chairs at the table.

  Lily looked to the chair and smiled. “Before I go, I want you to know, Marie, I’m so grateful you were part of my life. While I know you’ll still be around—either in this realm or wherever it is you move on to on your next leg of your journey, I’m going to miss you. Unlike Dani, I won’t be able to see or hear you.” She then smiled and added, “Unless, of course, Walt teaches you to dream hop and you pop in to say hi.”

  “Dream hop?” Marie frowned.

  “What I was talking about,” Walt told her.

  Lily blew a kiss at the table and then dashed out the back door, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “She’s a sweet girl,” Marie mused. She then glanced down and frowned.

  “What is it?” Danielle asked.

  “Do I have to spend eternity in my dressing gown?”

  “Not necessarily,” Walt said with a smile. In the next moment, his suit changed from a gray pinstripe to a blue one.

  “How did you do that?” Marie asked.

  “It takes a little practice, but I can show you later.”

  “Marie, don’t you want to move on?” Danielle asked. “I can see you’ve accepted your death, which usually means a spirit is ready to continue on in her journey.”

  Marie looked at Walt. “Does this mean Walt hasn’t accepted his death?”

  “I’m just not ready to move on,” Walt explained. He waved his hand and a lit cigar appeared. He took a puff.

  Marie broke into a smile. “Aha! That explains the cigar smell I used to notice over here!”

  Before anyone could respond, the back door flew open, and Heather Donovan rushed into the house, her silky black ponytail bouncing atop her head. She had been jogging earlier that morning and still wore her purple jogging suit.

  “Oh my god! Marie really is here!” Heather said, trying to catch her breath.

  “You can see me?” Marie asked.

  “Of course I can see you.” Heather sat down at the table. “I ran into Lily on the street, and she told me about Marie, and that she was here.” Impulsively, Heather reached forward and poked a finger through Marie’s face.

  With a frown, Marie leaned back, away from Heather. “What was that for?”

  Heather shrugged. “I needed to make sure Lily wasn’t messing with me, and you’re really dead.”

  “Hardly something Lily would joke about,” Danielle said.

  “It’s a good thing she was telling the truth or you would have just poked my eye out!” Marie snapped.

  With a guilty blush, Heather slumped back in her chair and mumbled, “Sorry.”

  With a shake of her head, Marie sat up straighter in the chair, her brow drawn into a frown. “So you’re telling me Danielle, Evan, and now Heather can see ghosts?”

  “Spirits,” Walt corrected.

  “And Chris,” Heather added.

  “Chris too?” Marie asked.

  “Yes,” Danielle said with a nod. “Chris is like me and Evan, he has seen spirits all his life. Heather here, well, she had a little ability when she first moved to Frederickport—most people have some, like the way you could smell Walt’s cigar. But over time, her abilities increased, so she’s almost as sensitive as I am.”

  Marie slumped back in the chair and folded her arms across her chest. “So you’re saying this has been going on around me, and I had no idea? The four of you have been consorting with dead people?”

  Walt cringed. “I have to say, dead people sounds worse than ghosts.”

  “Makes me think of zombies,” Heather added.

  “I see you found little Marie!” Eva said as she abruptly appeared in the kitchen.

  Marie looked to the new apparition, her eyes widening. “Eva Thorndike?” she stammered.

  “Wonderful, you recognized me!” Eva punctuated her comment with a wave of her hand and a flutter of gold glitter. The glitter vanished before it hit the floor.

  Since there were no empty seats in the kitchen, Eva sat down on an imaginary barstool, her body seemingly floating in midair—in a sitting position, her legs crossed under the long satin gown she wore.

  “This is amazing,” Marie murmured. “Are my parents here somewhere? My husband?” She glanced around the room as if expecting more spirits to pop into the kitchen.

  “I suspect they’ve moved on,” Danielle told her. “Like I explained in the car, most spirits do. But there are a few, like Walt and Eva, who, for their own reasons, linger on this plane.”

  “So we don’t have to move on?” Marie asked.

  “Well…some do.” Danielle thought of Felicia and Tagg, who were not given the option to linger. It gave her chills to imagine where they might have ended up.

  Marie started to say something, and then she paused and focused her attention on Eva. “You know, that portrait at the museum does not do you justice. I always thought the artist tried too hard to make the comparison between you and the Gibson Girl. You are really much more beautiful.”

  “You’re very sweet,” Eva said.

  “My father told me…” Marie paused and then looked from Eva to Walt. “Of course! Now I understand! This is rather romantic!”

  Heather frowned. “Romantic?”

  “Of course, dear. Everyone knows how much in love Walt was with Eva. It’s obvious she returned that love, and they were reunited after his death!”

  “About a hundred years later,” Heather said with a snort.

  Marie frowned. “I don’t understand?”

  “Eva and I are just dear friends,” Walt explained. “It’s true, when I was a young man, I believed I was in love with her. But the truth is, it wasn’t until Lily’s wedding that I saw Eva again.”

  “Really?” Marie asked.

  “I told you, Marie, Walt is confined to this house. He hasn’t been anywhere else,” Danielle reminded her.

  “But Eva is free to come here, isn’t she?” Marie asked.

  “Yes. But I chose to stay away, for my own reasons,” Eva said.

  “Hmm…” Marie glanced from Eva to Walt. “The afterlife seems like a bit of a soap opera.”

  “I suppose it does.” Danielle chuckled. “While Eva and Walt have their own reasons for staying, you probably want to move on. It’s what spirits normally do—especially those like you who’ve come to terms with their death.”

  “Who said I’ve come to terms with my death?” Marie asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “You didn’t seem that upset when I explained—and I just assumed you would be anxious to reunite with your husband, your parents, those who’ve already moved on.”

  Unfolding her arms, Marie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You know, one would assume I’d be anxious to see them. I’m a little surprised I’m not more eager to mov
e on. It’s not as if I haven’t been aware of the fact I could go at any time. Heavens, I recently celebrated my ninety-first birthday.”

  “Is it because of Adam?” Danielle asked. “You mentioned you wanted to see him married first before you move on.”

  Marie considered the question a moment and then shook her head. “No. I suspect the true reason is a little more self-centered.”

  “Self-centered?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes. I’d first like to figure out who murdered me.”

  Thirteen

  “Murdered? What are you talking about?” Heather asked.

  “Marie, you weren’t murdered. You died in your sleep,” Danielle told her.

  Sitting up straight in her chair, Marie stubbornly shook her head. “No. I was murdered.”

  “Why do you think that?” Walt asked.

  “It was the food, wasn’t it?” Heather suggested. “I used to visit my grandfather in one of those places, and the food was hideous. There were a couple of times I caught them serving food that had spoiled. It was one of the ways they cut corners to save money. Of course, that isn’t murder exactly, more like negligent homicide.”

  “No. It wasn’t the food,” Marie told her.

  “How can you be so sure?” Heather asked.

  “Because I remember the pillow!”

  Danielle frowned. “Pillow?”

  Marie nodded. “Yes. The pillow someone used to smother me.”

  “What are you talking about, Marie?” Danielle asked.

  “I have to admit, at first I thought I was just attacked. That’s why I went to the police station. But if I’m really dead—well, it must mean my attacker was more successful than I realized! I was murdered!”

  “What happened?” Heather asked.

  “I remember I couldn’t sleep. I looked over to the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was a few minutes past three. And then I heard it. Footsteps coming down the hall.”

  “Who was it?” Danielle asked.

  Marie shrugged. “I don’t know. It was pretty dark. I didn’t have my glasses on.” Marie paused a moment and tried touching her face. “Do I have glasses on now?”