Ghost Hunter's Daughter

by Dan Poblocki

Lucas shook his head. “Penelope said that Claire needed to come. She said she needed my help too. We have to go with you.”

  “Dolly?” Irene asked. “Maybe you should stay here? Keep watch?”

  “Watch for what?” asked Dolly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kent. But you said my mother’s spirit is here in this water. If there’s a way I can connect with her this evening, I’m going to do it.” She steadied her chin. “I’m going to rescue her too.”

  “You realize what that may entail?” Dolly looked confused, and Irene went on. “Not only are we trying to save Claire’s father, but we’ll need to banish Lemuel Hush entirely.”

  “Gramma,” Lucas whispered. “I thought you didn’t believe in doing stuff like that?”

  “I’ve never encountered something so dangerous. Most of my spirits have only ever needed guidance. Or to pass along a message to the living. But not Lemuel. Graveyard watch or not, he cannot remain in Hush Falls … or in the Holler.”

  “But how?” asked Claire. “How do we banish him?”

  Irene’s eyes flickered across the landscape, worried. “I’d rather not say.” Then she whispered, “Not out loud.”

  The sky was dimming. A shadow of its former glorious blue was mirrored in the glassy surface of the reservoir. It was difficult for Claire to imagine that an entire town had once stood here—that parts of the community still remained below, hidden in a world of reflected light, reflected reality, like a ghost itself.

  Irene gathered two flashlights from her truck. She gave the signal, and the group slid the canoes across the sandy slope and down into the water. Claire climbed into one of the boats with Lucas. He grabbed hold of the oars. Irene went with Dolly, steering their own little vessel.

  Slowly, slowly they moved away from the shore. In her mind, Claire thought of the white light again, thankful for her father’s methods, thankful that he was probably using them himself wherever he was. She knew that Miles and Irene did not agree about how to handle the dead. But now, both of their ideas were working together, as if they had always been meant to do so.

  Crossing the water, no one felt the need to talk. Claire was grateful for it. All she could think about was the look she’d see in her father’s face when they came up onto the far shore and she could throw her arms around him.

  When they were out in the middle of the lake, canoes gliding together only several feet apart, Claire paused in her silent meditation and noticed a light flickering low in the trees. It was exactly as Tanner Worley had said it would be. A faded, pulsing orange. A campfire, or maybe a lantern. Whatever it was, it meant they were moving in the right direction. Toward her father. Toward an answer. A few stars began to appear in the sky overhead as well as below, and as daylight continued to fade away, more and more of them came into view. Claire thought back to yesterday—had it only been yesterday?—when she’d noticed the stars outside her bedroom window, back in Archer’s Mills. How they’d blinked at her, made it seem as though her mother was standing behind her, signaling her. Maybe Claire didn’t have sight in the same way that Lucas and Irene did, but this quick memory gave her hope that maybe every person could sense lost loved ones now and again, even if it was only a trick of light.

  Dolly gasped. She leaned over the side of the boat, looking down. “What’s this?” she said, pointing. Everyone paused and peered carefully into the darkening water. Below, Claire noticed movement. She braced herself for an attack from Lemuel and focused on the white orb.

  Several feet below the surface, gauzy shapes were gliding through the water. They were glowing from within, emitting their own light, like jellyfish or octopuses. But these shapes were larger and longer than those animals. As Claire stared, she made out a face gazing up at her. She jolted back, knocking the boat so that it rocked, spilling water inside. “Those are people!” she cried out.

  “Shh,” said Irene. “We don’t want to scare them.”

  “Scare them?” Lucas asked. “What about them scaring us?”

  “We know what they are. And we also know by now that these spirits are nothing to be frightened of.”

  “Do I really know that, Gramma?” Lucas grimaced.

  “Mama!” Dolly shrieked. She leaned over so far, Irene had to reach out and pull her back into the boat. Dolly spun, pushing at Irene’s arms. “I saw her! I saw my mom! She’s down there, Mrs. Kent.” Claire hadn’t seen Dolly this upset. Her curls were bouncing wildly. She looked like she wanted to jump into the water herself—a very bad idea. “Her eyes … I don’t think she could see me. Can’t you get her out?”

  “Not at the moment. We have to reach the island. From there, we’ll make a plan.”

  Dolly sat back, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

  Silence descended again, and Claire watched the wisps of people swirling below. There was a woman wearing overalls. A man in a long rain slicker. A teen boy wearing a high school letterman jacket. A girl in a long, billowy dress. They all passed by the canoe and then faded away into the depths. Claire was suddenly thankful that she had not seen the face of her father down there, staring blindly back up at her.

  The flickering light among the trees on the darkening island was closer—brighter now, calling to her as if from another world.

  A FEW MINUTES later, the canoes bumped up against the rocky bottom of the lake. The island’s pines towered over them. Claire’s chest felt tight as she helped drag the canoe up onto the shore. Her father’s light was gone now. Had someone extinguished it? Or was it merely blocked by the trees? “Dad!” she called out, but Irene shushed her.

  “Don’t draw attention. We’ll reach him on our own.”

  “But how? The light’s gone.”

  Irene seemed to listen to something only she could hear. Then she headed toward the woods. “Follow me.”

  The night had come quickly, and as they moved farther into the center of the small island, darkness surrounded them. Irene held one of the flashlights. Lucas directed the other. The pale spots lit bare branches. Above, an owl—or some great bird—let loose a fearsome hoot before flapping off in search of prey.

  Claire wanted to call out to her father again. She wanted him to answer her, to come running through the pine saplings and gather her up in his strong arms. Instead, she pressed her lips together, breathed through her nose, and tried not to scream.

  Beyond the reach of the flashlights, a separate glow appeared. Claire tensed. Her throat began to close as she choked back waves of emotion. From between two trees, a small blaze came into view. On the ground beside it was the body of a man.

  Claire bolted forward, crashing through the brush until she reached the illuminated clearing. She skidded to her knees. The body was lying before her, unmoving. He almost looked like a pile of clothes. But she recognized her father’s red windbreaker, his green corduroy pants, rolled twice at the hem, and his familiar Doc Martens with thick rubber soles. She pressed her palms against one of his shoulders.

  She couldn’t tell if he was warm or not. For a moment, she worried that she hadn’t reached him in time. But then he coughed. He shuddered and turned over, gazing up at her. Fear brought tears to his eyes. His mouth went slack, and he began to tremble. “Claire? Is that you?” He grabbed her and pulled her close, his body racked with sobs. She was shaking along with him. “How did you find me?”

  “I can’t believe it,” she heard herself say. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He held her at arm’s length, taking her in. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in an eternity.” Then he glanced over her shoulder, and Claire heard footsteps coming up behind her. He took in the others and Claire saw awareness filter through him. He hung his head. “I put you all in danger. I feel like such a fool.” He sniffed, then rose to his feet, brushing himself off. Irene walked toward the fire. “Irene,” he whispered. She opened her arms, and he collapsed into them. “Thank you,” he said.

  “It isn’t me you should be thanking,” she answered. She held her hand out to the kids. �
��Your daughter. My grandson. You remember Lucas?”

  “Of c-course.” The ghost hunter shivered, then smiled.

  “Hi, Mr. Holiday,” Lucas said with a small wave. He was wearing a strange grin that Claire knew must be keeping hidden all sorts of feelings.

  “And this is Dolly Snedecker,” Claire continued, pulling her new friend closer. “We wouldn’t have made it here without her help.”

  Dolly nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holiday. My mom and I are big fans.”

  “Thank you, Dolly,” he answered. “Hey, aren’t you from the motel?”

  “The one and only Lost Village. That’s how I met Claire and Lucas. They showed up early today, looking for you.”

  “How did you get out here, Dad?” Claire asked. “And why didn’t you come back?”

  Miles released a long sigh. “That is some story to tell.” He shook his head. “Where’s Clementine?”

  “Checked out of the motel last night,” answered Dolly. “Said she was going back to your office. She seemed pretty freaked out.”

  Miles nodded. “Good, good. She had reason to be. Still has reason, I suppose.”

  “Because of Lemuel Hush?” Lucas asked.

  “Well, yes. Of course. But what’s worse than a vengeful ghost with a penchant for drowning anyone who gets close to the lake?” He glanced at them, his eyes sad and full of warning. “There’s someone in this town who is very dangerous. Someone who is not a ghost. Someone who’s very much alive.”

  A voice resounded from the shadows beyond the campfire’s reach. “You talking about me, Mr. Holiday?”

  A MAN EMERGED from the darkness.

  Claire’s brain skipped like a stone across water, trying to figure out why his voice sounded familiar. It wasn’t Tanner. Wasn’t anyone she’d seen on the streets of the town that day.

  No, but she had seen him. Had heard his voice.

  In her father’s footage.

  This was Reed, the mayor of Hush Falls Holler.

  “You know the old adage,” the man continued. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” In the firelight, his face became clearer. His brow was furrowed, his eye sockets painted with shadow. A long khaki coat was draped over his shoulders. In his right hand, he clutched a wooden baseball bat. Its tip dragged across the ground as he took a step closer.

  Miles moved in front of the group, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Mayor Winterson,” said Dolly. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I followed you, honey.” Reed grinned. “Followed all of you. What a day you’ve had. Snooping around. Breaking into places. Stealing evidence.”

  “Is anyone going to tell us what’s going on here?” Irene asked.

  “Stay back,” Miles shouted at Reed. “I’m warning you.”

  “Or what? You’ll exorcise me?” The mayor shook his head, raising the baseball bat toward the group. “No, I think it’s time for me to finish what I started. Though I must admit, I’m surprised that old Mr. Hush hasn’t already done the job for me. He’s usually so good at this sort of thing.”

  “It was you,” Claire whispered. She wanted to rush forward and kick him. “You were the one who found the camera. You’re the one who brought it to the police station.”

  Miles nodded. “Reed attacked me a couple of days ago by the water’s edge. I’d just caught incredible and frightening footage of Lemuel Hush at the lake. I remember turning to run. But then I saw the mayor step out from the woods. He was holding this bat. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. I have a vague memory of being dragged away. Of being in a rowboat. Reed left me here on the island.”

  “But why?” Lucas asked.

  “No one in the Holler is going to vote for you again!” Dolly yelled.

  Reed chuckled. “Cute, kid. This town is important to me. I’ve made that perfectly clear. And I have plans for it. Big plans. Plans that nobody will stop. We need visitors. Tourists. It’s the only way to bring business back to this area. Money is imperative to my constituents.”

  “And to you,” said Dolly. “You own like half the run-down buildings in Hush Falls Holler.”

  “I’m not going to argue.” Reed shrugged. “What better way to get our name on the map than to have a famous ghost hunter disappear during a scouting mission for his show? I bet we could even get away with putting something like The World’s Most Haunted Town right on our emblem. But also, if I had allowed Miles to continue doing what he was doing, poking around in places he shouldn’t be poking in, hunting our legendary spirit and trying to send him away … No. We need Lemuel around these parts. He’s the reason people will keep coming back.”

  “So you knocked my dad on the head,” Claire said through gritted teeth. “You brought him out here?”

  “In the past, I always just let old Lemuel do his thing. We have something of a pact, Lemuel and me. He’s most efficient.”

  “In the past?” Lucas repeated. “You mean, you’ve done stuff like this before?”

  Reed’s grin grew thinner. “I’m not proud of it.”

  Dolly shivered. “Who … who else have you done it to?”

  He sighed while thinking how to answer. “People who threatened our way of life. Spirit-sensitive people. People who thought they knew better how to solve the town’s problems.”

  “Spirit-sensitive,” said Irene. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t want you coming here, Lucas. Dangerous for people like us.”

  Dolly spoke up, her voice growing stronger. “My mother thought she could solve the town’s problems. My mother had an idea about the graveyard watch. Removing the curse. My mother …”

  Now Reed looked truly repentant. “I couldn’t let Missy do that, honey. You have to understand.”

  Dolly swung her arms out at him. “You killed her! You killed my mom!”

  “I did nothing of the sort,” he replied, holding the bat before himself like a shield. “I merely made sure she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. At certain times of day, the water’s edge can be a very dangerous place.”

  Dolly shrieked. She tried to dash forward, but Lucas held her back, knowing she’d only get hurt. “Let me go. Let me go!”

  Reed sliced the bat through the air; it moved with a cutting sound. Then he pointed it at Dolly’s face. “I realize now that I’ll have to stick around here and wait for Lem to do what he’s going to do to you. All of you. You’re not leaving. You must know that.”

  Miles grunted. Then, before Claire could stop him, he rushed at the mayor, tackling him to the ground.

  “RUN!” MILES CALLED out. He wrestled Reed for the baseball bat, the two of them rolling in the dirt near the fire. “All of you. Back toward the water.”

  Claire felt paralyzed. There was no way she was leaving him here. “Dad! No!”

  “Go! Now!” Miles throttled Reed, forcing him onto his back. He sat on Reed’s chest and then clasped the bat, yanking it from the mayor’s hands. Miles raised it over his head threateningly.

  Irene shuttled the three kids into the woods, shining the flashlight across the overgrown path. Claire kept trying to look back, to see if her father was okay. But Miles called out, “Go! Get away from here!”

  The rocky beach appeared. Claire stepped on a stone, and her ankle bent at a strange angle. She fell to the ground and rolled to a stop. The others rushed to check on her. “I’m okay,” she insisted. “But what about my dad? Did he follow us?” Lucas kept his flashlight pointed at the line of trees.

  Seconds later, Miles appeared. He stumbled toward them, then collapsed beside Claire. Now it was his turn to rest his hands on her. “Are you okay, Clary?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Where’s the mayor?”

  “He’s not going to bother us anymore.”

  Claire wasn’t sure what that meant, and she did not want to think about it. She forced herself to sit up. Rubbing at her ankle, she looked to the canoes. There was a rowboat pulled up onto the beach not far from where
the group was huddled. The mayor’s boat. “We should push his boat out into the water when we leave. So he can’t come after us.”

  “Oh, I don’t plan on following you.” Reed barreled out of the woods toward the group. Lucas pointed his light at him, illuminating the red that was running down from a wound in his forehead. “Because none of you are leaving this place.” Reed opened his jacket and pulled out the antique revolver that Claire had seen in a glass case at the Hush Falls Museum that afternoon. “I didn’t want to have to do this. But you’ve forced my hand.”

  Claire felt ice shards pressing into her temples. It was a terror unlike anything she’d ever imagined.

  “Stand up,” said the mayor. The group did as he told them. “Drop the flashlights. Move back toward the water.” They had no other choice.

  Claire and Lucas stood behind her father. Irene moved in front of Dolly. Claire felt snot running over her top lip. Her father squeezed her hand, and a thought popped into her brain: We can be with Mom again. It won’t be so bad. We can all be ghosts that haunt the Victorian house in Archer’s Mills. People might even tell stories about us.

  “Lemuel!” Reed called out over the water. “I brought you more of what you’re looking for!” A loon called back with a maniacal hoot. “Lemuel Hush! Where are you hiding?”

  Then another thought came to Claire: She could still protect them. The orb of white light! She focused on the image in her mind. She imagined her mother’s wide arms surrounding her father and her friends, the warmth of her heart, the soothing sound of her voice, a sound that could erase all fear. Help us, Mom. Help us.

  “You don’t have to do this, Reed,” said Irene calmly. “There are many ways to get what you want for this town. I can help you. We all can.”

  “My mom wanted to change things,” said Dolly. “She wanted to free Mr. Hush. To protect the people of the Holler. If you’d really cared—”

  “That was never going to happen. I couldn’t risk sending Lemuel away. The World’s Most Haunted Town needs to keep its most famous ghost!” The mayor’s chest heaved, and he struggled for breath. He kept his focus on the group as he wandered down the beach and perched on the edge of his rowboat. The flashlights that Lucas and Irene had left behind were pointing toward him, casting him with an otherworldly glow. “I really am sorry,” he told them. Then, frustrated, he threw his head back and shouted, “LEMUEL HUSH, WHERE ARE YOU?”