by Bobbi Holmes
“Which was probably old man Porter,” Walt suggested. “If that was the case, then he found out Charlene was part black. There was no way in hell Porter would have allowed his son to marry a black woman.”
“So much sadness here,” Danielle said.
Walt glanced at the open door. “But if both spirits are here, and if they loved each other, then why aren’t they together?”
Danielle shrugged. “It’s possible Charlene is confined to the barn, like you were to Marlow House. And Beau can’t come in here, like Stoddard’s ghost wasn’t able to enter Marlow House. You know what we need to do?”
“I don’t want to ask,” Walt groaned.
“We need to get those two to understand what happened, that way they won’t be confined and separated, and they can finally be together.”
“That sounds romantic, Danielle, but we don’t even know for sure if Beau returned Charlene’s affections. As far as we know, she met Beau that night in the barn, and he wanted to get her out of the way. Or he found out she was part black; after all, he is a Porter, which meant a Klan member.”
“He was?” Danielle sounded disappointed.
“Yes. Old man Porter was high in the local Klan. Damn sure he would have his sons with him.”
“I thought you said Beau Junior was the nice one,” Danielle asked.
“Compared to his brother, he was. And I felt back then he was only in the Klan because there was no way to avoid it with his father. But I could have been wrong about him, and maybe he had as much hate in his heart as his father.”
“Okay, so what’s the rest of your depressing alternate scenario?” Danielle asked.
“I would think it’s depressing anyway you look at it, since someone put a knife in Charlene’s back,” Walt reminded her.
“I know. But go on…”
“Your scenario could be accurate. They were in love, and old man Porter interfered. Or Beau could have fallen in love with someone else and got rid of a girlfriend he saw as an embarrassment or in the way. And then the new girlfriend left him.”
“You’re right, it is depressing either way,” Danielle agreed. “But we still have to help Charlene and the others. Even Beau.”
“Yes, I know,” Walt said with a sigh.
Danielle shouted, “Charlene!”
Walt stood and watched as she circled the barn, calling out Charlene’s name over and over again and receiving no answer.
“Perhaps she’s not confined to the barn,” Walt suggested.
“Or she doesn’t want to talk.”
“Possible.”
Hands on hips, Danielle surveyed her surroundings. “They must not have kept animals in here.”
“They used to,” Walt said.
“With a concrete floor?” Danielle asked. “Of course, someone after Beau Porter’s time could have added it. I could see pouring concrete if you used the barn for storage or a shop.” She spied a nearby section of the floor covered with a tarp. By the visible lumps, the tarp covered more than a bare floor. “Wonder what’s under there.”
To answer her question, Walt willed the tarp up into the air. A moment later it floated some six feet over the section it had been covering, hovering overhead like a cloud.
Both Danielle and Walt stared, trying to understand what exactly they were seeing. Chiseled-out chunks of concrete formed one lump previously concealed by the tarp. The second lump was a large bucket. They didn’t look to see what the bucket held; instead, their attention focused on the remaining concrete in the floor and its secrets someone had revealed by removing the floor’s top layer.
“Is that what I think it is?” Danielle asked nervously.
“The question should be, who was it?” Walt muttered.
“Or who were they? There’s at least two of them; look.” Danielle pointed first to what appeared to be a human skull still embedded in the concrete floor, yet partially revealed. She then pointed to the bucket. It held bones, including a second human skull.
“What the hell is going on here?” Danielle asked, stepping back from the tarp.
“I think we should go now. Let the chief take care of this,” Walt suggested.
They watched as the tarp drifted back down to the floor, once again concealing the gruesome scene.
“The Stewarts know it’s here, and they’re digging it up,” Walt said.
“I understand the lure of home improvement,” Danielle said. “There are enough DIY shows on cable to prove it’s popular. But once you uncover multiple graves, I’d think the normal thing to do would be to call the authorities.”
“It confirms our suspicions on who tossed those remains in the ocean,” Walt said, giving Danielle a gentle nudge and pointing to a dark section of the barn she hadn’t yet inspected. Piled in the corner were several burlap bags. “Come on. I don’t have a good feeling about this. Let’s get out of here.”
Danielle nodded. “I agree, let’s go find the chief.”
Together, Walt and Danielle hurried toward the open barn door. Once they got outside, they quickly shut the door and continued on their way, retracing their steps, but avoiding the apple tree.
When they were almost at the outbuilding where they had seen Dolly, Wilbur suddenly appeared.
“You were in the barn,” Wilbur said. “They don’t let anyone in the barn.”
“Wilbur, we need to leave, but I beg you to come back to Marlow House so we can talk, please,” Danielle said.
“You can’t leave yet,” Wilbur said. “Dolly wants to talk to you. I told her you’d help her.”
“I’ll come back later,” Danielle promised.
“Come on, Danielle,” Walt urged, taking her hand and gently giving it a tug, wanting her to keep walking toward their car.
Wilbur glared at Walt. “I don’t understand. Are you a ghost?”
“No, I’m not a ghost,” Walt said.
“Then none of this makes sense. I’m dead, but you’re alive?”
“He’s not the same Walt Marlow,” Danielle lied.
Wilbur looked at Danielle and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Marie explained you’re a ghost. You’ve been a ghost for over ninety years. That would make Walt how old? Almost one hundred twenty? Does he look one hundred twenty?”
“So you’re a relative of that Walt Marlow?” Wilbur asked.
“Something like that,” Walt said.
“Your relative, that other Walt Marlow, he’s the reason I got into this mess. If it wasn’t for him, they wouldn’t have murdered me.”
“How was Walt Marlow responsible for your death?” Walt asked.
Before Wilbur could answer, a woman called out, “Walt, come over here!”
They turned toward the outbuilding that had once housed the Porters’ hogs. Dolly stood by the building, waving him over.
“She wants you to see. But she thinks you’re that other Walt Marlow,” Wilbur explained.
“We can help Dolly before we leave,” Danielle said.
“There isn’t time. It can take hours; look how long it took Cheryl. We’ll come back later, after we let the chief know what’s out here,” Walt insisted.
“She just wants to show you something,” Wilbur said. “It won’t take long.”
Wilbur vanished.
“Walt, here!” Dolly called out.
Walt groaned. “Okay, let’s see what she wants to show us, and then we’re leaving. Please don’t tell Dolly she’s dead. Not yet. Okay?”
“Okay, Walt, I promise.”
Together Walt and Danielle hurried over to Dolly, who now stood by the entrance to the dilapidated outbuilding.
“What did you want to show me?” Walt asked Dolly when they reached the spirit.
“It’s inside. Come look,” Dolly said, floating into the building and disappearing.
Walt looked at Danielle and asked, “Are you sure a ghost can’t hurt a living person?”
Danielle shrugged. “According to Eva, the universe won’t let a spiri
t hurt an innocent. But why would Dolly’s spirit hurt you? Spirits don’t suddenly become evil, unless they were evil during their life.”
“She did throw a tree branch at me,” he reminded her.
“Even living people who aren’t evil have angry outbursts. And it didn’t land on your head.”
Walt let out a deep breath, reached out, and took hold of Danielle’s right hand. Hesitantly, they stepped into the dilapidated small building, standing just inside its open doorway. They found Dolly hovering inside, her illusion a golden glow. She pointed down to a section of the dirt floor. A portion of it had been dug up.
“There, look,” Dolly urged.
Both Danielle and Walt looked down and found a human skull peeking up at them from the hole.
“That’s me,” Dolly told them. “That’s where they put me.”
Danielle looked to Walt. “I think she knows she’s dead.”
Thirty-Four
Dolly vanished, leaving Walt and Danielle alone in the shabby outbuilding. The only light came from the late morning sunlight streaming through the open doorway.
“This place is a freaking house of horrors,” Danielle told Walt.
When two men had pulled up to the rear of the property ten minutes earlier, they found a Ford Flex parked along the road. After parking behind the Flex, they got out of their vehicle and had a closer look.
“I know whose car that is,” the older man said in a low voice. “That belongs to the Marlows.”
Both men looked up toward the path leading to the rear of the property and the first outbuilding. The older man placed a finger over his lips, signaling to the other man to be quiet. The younger man gave a nod, and together they stealthily made their way onto the property, each excruciatingly careful not to make a sound.
As they arrived at the rear of the building, they heard a woman’s voice say, “This place is a freaking house of horrors.”
The younger man looked at his companion and mouthed the words, “Danielle Marlow.” The other man nodded in agreement, and they both listened.
“How many do you think there are?” they heard Danielle say.
“We have Dolly, Charlene, Wilbur, the hippy,” a male voice said.
Again, the younger man mouthed words, this time, “Walt Marlow.”
The older man pointed to some debris on the ground, a section of pipe and a weathered piece of wood that had once been the handle of a boat oar. As they each grabbed a makeshift weapon, they heard Danielle say, “We’re fairly certain Beau Porter was here until one of the Stewarts dumped his remains. But I wonder, are there more?”
“I imagine the chief will have this entire place torn up,” Walt said.
“Do you think they’ll find more than what’s in the barn and here?” Danielle asked.
The taller man pointed for the other man to go in one direction while he headed in another, each moving around the shed, heading to its entrance.
“I suppose it’s possible. Let’s get out of here,” Walt said.
“You drive. I’ll call the chief on the way home,” Danielle said.
“The chief will not be happy with you when he discovers we came out here,” Walt said.
“Are you saying he won’t be unhappy with you?” Danielle asked.
“Oh, I’ll make sure he knows this was your idea. And now that I think about it, we probably should have told someone we were coming out here.”
“They’re gone for the weekend. Anyway, I have you,” they heard Danielle say.
Pearl Huckabee wore a wide-brimmed straw hat to keep the sun out of her eyes while she trimmed the shrubs along her southern property line, and she wore leather gloves to protect her hands. Clad in faded overalls, a blue work shirt, and a pair of Keds with white socks, she efficiently moved down the row of bushes, letting the trimmed leaves and stems fall to the ground to rake up later.
She paused when she heard a voice next door shout, “Dammit, Marie, you scared the crap out of me!” Putting down her shears, Pearl used her gloved hands to separate two bushes so she could see into her neighbor’s yard. There stood Heather Donovan, hands on hips, ranting to herself. She was alone—except for the calico cat standing by Heather’s feet. But she wasn’t ranting at the cat; it was the flowerpot that had the odd girl in a tizzy, cursing up a storm and stomping her feet, giving that darn ol’ flowerpot a good what for. And who names their flowerpot Marie?
Pearl shook her head and thought, That girl is crazy. She continued to listen.
“You need not get so huffy!” Marie told Heather as she stood next to a flowerpot.
“I swear, Marie, you will seriously give me a heart attack one of these days, the way you just pop in unannounced!” Heather told her.
“Oh, posh. You’re young, healthy, all that jogging you do. You’re not going to have a heart attack. But I need your help.”
Heather let out a sigh and calmed down. “Okay, what do you need?”
“I can’t find Walt and Danielle anywhere. I spent the last evening and most of this morning over at the Kings’. I’m convinced they aren’t who we’re looking for. But they aren’t home, and Max doesn’t know where they went.”
“Did you try across the street at Lily and Ian’s?”
“Yes. They’re not there, and I couldn’t ask Lily and Ian about Walt and Danielle,” Marie explained.
“You could have written something on the dry-erase board,” Heather reminded her.
“I suppose, but that can be so tedious in a case like this. Can’t you please just go across the street with me and play translator?”
“Why don’t you ever ask Chris to do this stuff?” Heather asked.
“Your house is closer,” Marie said.
“But maybe they’re over at Chris’s place,” Heather suggested.
“No, after I checked at Lily and Ian’s, I looked in the garage, and Danielle’s car is gone. I looked down the street; it’s not parked by Chris’s house.”
“Fine,” Heather said with a sigh. “But do me a favor first, tell Bella I want her to go in the house before we leave. I don’t want her outside alone, and I don’t want her crossing the street.”
“Certainly…”
While waiting for Marie to relay the entire message to her calico cat, motion from the bushes caught Heather’s attention.
“I don’t know where they went,” Lily told Heather fifteen minutes later when she led them into the living room. Sadie tagged along after greeting both Heather and Marie. When they walked into the living room, they found Ian sitting on the floor with Connor, playing with toy trucks.
“Oh, fun!” Heather said, joining the pair on the floor and giving Connor a quick kiss on the forehead.
“Hello, Marie, wherever you are,” Ian greeted her after saying hello to Heather.
“I can try calling her,” Lily said, picking up her cellphone as she took a seat on one chair.
“I tried both her and Walt’s number on the way over,” Heather said. “It went to voicemail. They could be ignoring me.”
“They’re not ignoring you,” Lily said. Yet she wasn’t entirely certain that was true, and she told herself if they answered, she would make up an excuse why they hadn’t answered the phone earlier.
A few minutes later, Lily found no need to fabricate an excuse. “Went to voicemail for me too.”
A suspicious sound came from Connor, and Heather gasped, “Oh, kid, that was a stinker!”
“Tell them I’ll take care of it,” Marie told Heather.
Ian was reaching for Connor when Heather conveyed Marie’s message. The next moment Ian and Lily watched their son float from the living room to the nursery, giggling and kicking his feet in delight.
After Marie and Connor left the room, Lily asked, “I wonder why Dani and Walt aren’t answering their phones.”
“They probably went for a drive and are in a dead spot,” Ian suggested. “But I’ll call Chris, see if he knows where they went.”
While Ian called Chris, Hea
ther told Lily, “I imagine old Pearl will be spreading some rumors about me.”
“Why, what happened?” Lily asked.
“When I was talking to Marie in my backyard before coming over here, I didn’t know Pearl was listening.”
Lily giggled and said, “Poor Pearl doesn’t seem to have much in her life, so look at it as giving her something interesting to talk about.”
Heather gave a shrug and said, “I guess there’s some truth to that. Sort of like when she saw Connor flying around Walt and Danielle’s living room.”
“I still can’t believe she bought that whole ‘it’s a magic trick’ story,” Lily said. “But like we all say—”
“People believe what they want to believe,” both Heather and Lily chorused.
“Chris doesn’t know where they are,” Ian told them when he got off the phone. “But he said they should be home in an hour. He talked to Walt early this morning about dropping Hunny off with them while he goes to Astoria.”
The man with the hook nose cleaned the blood and fingerprints off the piece of pipe and oar handle before dropping them into the burlap bag. He wiped down Walt’s and Danielle’s cellphones, then tossed them atop the pipe and oar handle. He handed the bag to the younger man and said, “Whatever you do, dump these out of the bag before dropping them off the pier, and don’t let anyone see you. Bring the bag back so I know you didn’t do something stupid again.”
“What are you going to do?” the younger man asked.
“First, I’ll move their car into the garage before someone sees it. Now get going. Once someone knows the Marlows are missing, they can use their phones to try tracing them.”
“What about the car? They can trace the car too.”
“I’ll take care of it. Just get going.”
Thirty-Five
At first Danielle wondered if it was a nightmare, one triggered by a past trauma. Kidnapped and forced to sleep while chained on the concrete floor in Lake Havasu City, Arizona, before the police rescued them. She couldn’t remember her head throbbing back then as it did now.