“Come on, guys!” he barked, taking the lead. “Let’s get it!”
Willard led the charge with Lewis and Clark as wingmen. The three dogs barked joyfully as the ghost simply floated to the center of the pit. The canine trio stopped dead at the pit’s edge whining frustratedly. Finally, Lewis stopped completely and sat back on his haunches. “That thing is weird.”
“I’m hungry,” Clark sighed and lay down beside his brother.
“Oh, boy, there’s Sonya,” Willard said nervously.
Sonya stood in the doorway of Mr. Pepper’s Airstream camper. Marnie and Mr. Pepper were sitting outside in two comfortable camping chairs. They looked up and smiled as she stepped down to the ground.
“Well?” Marnie asked in a hopeful tone.
Sonya smiled and looked at the diminutive man. “Mr. Pepper, your wife, Eloise, would like to let you know she wants you to go home to New Jersey. She feels your daughter, Casey, and your granddaughters need your help.”
Mr. Pepper’s eyebrows raised two inches on his forehead. “Eloise? You talked with Eloise?”
“Yes, she’s concerned about your son-in-law, Jeff. She thinks he needs a kick in the pants.”
Mr. Pepper nodded his head up and down. “That must have been Eloise, all right. She always said it like that. “Jeff needs a kick in the pants.” I’d better get my camper ready for the road. Sorry, Marnie, but after last night, I don’t want to tussle with Eloise. She’s likely to put the hurt on me if I don’t take Jeff in hand.”
Marnie nodded. “Family first, Mr. Pepper.”
The engine of the backhoe ground to a stop causing all three people to turn around curiously. The driver, Bob, was climbing down from his seat.
“Hey, Marnie, come over here!” he yelled.
Marnie walked in his direction with Sonya and Mr. Pepper following her. Bob turned around again and yelled, “You’ve got something down here!”
For a minute, the news didn’t register. “Something?” Marnie blinked a few times with a quizzical look on her face.
“I think it’s a body,” Bob said as they crossed the paved park road and came to a standstill next to the pit. Looking down into the excavation, all four people studied the bones unearthed by the backhoe’s bucket.
“That’s a skull,” Marnie said, kneeling down to see better.
“And that’s a rib cage and a leg bone of some sort,” Bob added.
No one spoke, but Sonya realized that all three dogs were sitting almost directly across from them. Willard wagged his tail weakly. She knew in an instant what that particular wag meant. He felt guilty. That was what the barking and ripping around the pit was all about. He’d seen the ghost and couldn’t resist a chase.
“I’m beginning to think this park is cursed,” Marnie said shaking her head. “Ghosts running about making passes at guests, and now I’ve probably got some type of Indian burial ground situation going on where my pool is supposed to go. I’m calling the sheriff. They’d better see this for themselves.”
Chapter 6
Sonya tried to quiet her inner self. She needed to know if the ghost was still present, but she didn’t get the chance. Lewis and Clark both jumped back from their sitting position to being on all fours and intensely focused on something directly in front of them. Willard’s body wiggled and his eyes flitted back and forth from Sonya’s to something visible only to the dogs. Marnie’s boys growled in a low, menacing way. Lewis barked. There, hovering in the middle of the pit, a rippling mirage effect was pulsating in the atmosphere. Ten to one, thought Sophie to herself, it was the interloper from last night’s domestic drama.
With a furtive glance to see if anyone else saw the female shape taking form, Sonya realized the rest of the party were oblivious to the apparition. She sent out another push like she’d done earlier when she was in the camper. This time, the spirit locked on to her instantly.
“My name is Sonya. Who are you?” Sonya said without speaking.
The ghost lifted its head as if it was going to howl at the sky. It let out a wail. All three dogs barked excitedly and looked for ways to scramble down the side of the pit’s slope.
“No! Lewis and Clark!” Marnie commanded. “Come here!”
Feeling a wave of pity for the poor thing, now beginning to evaporate, Sonya tried to slow its disappearance. “I’m sorry. Maybe I can help you if you’ll let me,” she said mentally.
For a slight moment, it paused and appeared to think about the offer. It shook its head and disappeared. Sonya thought of Fritz. If he were here, he might be able to help. The eternal question regarding Fritz was; where was he? Fritz had a terrible habit of popping off when you needed him most. She looked for an inconspicuous place to slip off to where she might try to call Fritz. Spotting a washroom and toilet facility, she excused herself. Marnie was busy talking with Bob and Dale, the park’s handyman, who’d walked over to see what the commotion was about.
Willard fell in step beside her, occasionally glancing up at her face. Once they were out of earshot, Sonya said, “Willy, I can’t fault a terrier for enjoying a good chase, but you’ve got to learn that ghosts aren’t afraid of you, sweetie. You could have been hurt if you’d fallen into that huge hole. Better to come find me next time, okay?”
Willy’s guilty trot returned to its usual buoyancy. He showed his eager affection by asking to be picked up with a two paw high-ten at the back of Sonya’s leg. She picked him up and went inside the toilet/washroom facility. Fortunately, no one was around, so with Willard in her arms, Sonya called, “Fritz! Where are you? I need your help, right now!” No response came from the universe.
“Fritz, I know you can hear me. I think I’ve found the ghost we’re looking for.”
Fritz materialized looking aghast at the surroundings. “You are looking for, my dear. I’m happy to interact only on a modest scale with my own kind. What is this sad place you’re living in, my love?”
Sonya sighed. Her lovable Scottish specter’s memory wasn’t always the best. “I don’t live here, Fritz,” Sonya said exasperatedly. She decided on a different approach. “Where have you been?”
“That ridiculous great-great-great grandson of mine who currently calls himself the nineteenth Lord Dunbar is turning my home into a wallowing hole for the addle-brained tourist hordes. That’s where I’ve been.”
Fritz stomped around the tight laundry room and tried to kick an unsuspecting cart. Instead of sending the laundry cart flying, his ghost foot went through the spokes of the wheel frustrating him even more, so he continued his temper tantrum.
“He’s a nincompoop of the worst order. My family crypt is being turned into a wine cellar and the gardens are playing host to long-haired, emaciated troubadours who scream and strum ridiculous ballads about their anxious lives. I’d be anxious, too, Sunny, if I forgot how to bathe and where to get a good shave.”
“You don’t bathe, Fritz. You’re a ghost. What do you mean about the troubadours?” Sunny asked.
“They’re these sad looking fellows telling miserable love stories with instruments much like a guitar while hundreds of gyrating followers watch them scream, writhe, and hop about a stage. It’s most disconcerting and somewhat shocking.”
“I think you must have witnessed a rock concert, Fritz. Your grandson is probably finding new ways to create revenue. It may be your home, but it’s his responsibility now.”
Fritz slumped onto a toilet seat. “It’s hard to let go of your home, Sunny, even for a ghost.”
Sonya patted him on the shoulder. “That’s why you need to be occupied. Help me find The Whispering Pines’ ghost and it will take your mind off things back home.”
Fritz smiled and gazed up at Sonya with a smitten look. “I do love you, lass. Your ghost is my ghost. Where was it last?”
“I last saw her floating above a massive hole in the earth right outside this toilet. What say we toddle out and take a look together? There are a few people milling about, so please don’t pull any funny business
, okay?”
Standing at full attention, Fritz saluted, saying, “It’s a privilege to serve.”
With Willard leading the way, they all three exited the toilet/laundry and stepped back over to the pit. The sound of car tires crunching on the gravel made everyone look up to see who was arriving. It was Sheriff Zeb Walker with one of his deputies, Tommy Kirchner. Neither looked exactly thrilled as they got out of the police vehicle. Sonya quickly checked to see if Fritz was still with her, which he was, but doing odd calisthenics, which she supposed were being done to bring him into contact with the ghost. She rolled her eyes and turned around as the sheriff addressed Marnie.
“Well, Marnie, when did you start tossing the unpaid guests into your pit?”
“Zeb, give me some credit. I’d do better than my backyard if I wanted to get rid of someone,” Marnie retorted.
The tall, easy-going police official adjusted his hat and said, “And that’s why I won’t be dragging you down to the office today. I’ve always thought of you as the responsible type when it came to illicit body disposal.”
“Quit trying to charm me today, Zeb. I’m not in the mood.”
Willow Valley’s Sheriff stood about six foot three inches with jet-black hair beginning to turn white at the temples. There was nothing weakly or wanting in his physique. He was about forty-five years old and when he wasn’t wrestling criminals, he was busting broncs on the local rodeo circuit or hauling hay to his hundred head of cattle. His uniform, if you could call it one, was a relaxed rendition of the more official looking ones his officers were expected to wear.
“The County’s sending a forensic team down from Pineville. Bob, you did the right thing. If you would, back your backhoe up so that Tommy and I can tape off the site. Marnie, you’ll need to keep guests from blocking the area for probably the next three days. I can’t be sure when the boys in Pineville will get here, but it won’t be too long.”
Marnie shook her head and thanked Zeb. Turning to Sonya, she asked, “Will you keep me posted, if you find…anyone?”
“Find anyone?” Zeb asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Have you lost somebody else, Marnie?”
Marnie’s expression showed she wasn’t sure about openly admitting to hiring a ghost hunter or discussing last night’s high-spirited commotion, but she plunged in anyway.
“Zeb, this is Mrs. Sonya Caruthers, our community’s ghost whisperer. The Pines had a…well, for lack of a better word, a phenomenon, happen last night and I’ve asked her to look into it.”
The Sheriff smiled and offered his hand to Sonya. When their hands touched, Sonya felt a tiny zap of electricity.
“I’ve been a fan of that TV series about ghost hunters since it first came out. I’ll be honest with you Mrs. Caruthers, I’m not much of a believer in that kind of stuff, but it sure is fun to get the shivers once in a while.”
Sonya smiled at the Sheriff. “There are ghosts everywhere, and some are with us as watchful, protecting spirits. They aren’t always visible and some are barely perceptible. They leave a faint trace of energy, but even I get the shivers sometimes, too, Sheriff.”
“I’ll leave the ghosts to you, Mrs. Caruthers. I’ve got enough problems dealing with the living,” Zeb said with a charming smile. He turned to Marnie, saying, “We will get that tape up. Let’s keep the dogs and curious types out of the pit, if you can.”
“I’ll do my best, Zeb,” Marnie said with a sigh, “but we have quite a number of pet residents.”
“Don’t worry, Marnie,” Dale, her handyman, said. “I’ll keep guard. No ghosties or four-legged critters will get past me.”
Fritz blew up behind Dale and puffed air at the back of his gray head, causing Dale to turn around and give the three dogs watching the scene an accusing look.
Willard, Lewis, and Clark were again sitting by the pit watching Fritz do weird gyrations, but with Dale’s grimacing stare at them, they all three laid down with their muzzles resting on their front paws.
“Is that another one of those things?” Clark asked Lewis in regard to Fritz.
“Looks like it, but this one acts…weird,” Lewis agreed.
“That’s the one that lives at my house,” Willard said tragically. “He’s a trickster. Keep an eye on him, boys, cause he’ll try and get you in trouble.”
Lewis and Clark narrowed their eyes at Fritz and watched him sit down in the police car.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” Zeb said, “we need to get to work and you…” he addressed Marnie with a touch of teasing in his voice, “must need to get back to your ghost hunting.”
As he uttered his last two words, all the electronic devices on the police vehicle blasted to life at once. Sirens screamed, lights flashed, and the radio rocked a song from an old movie, “If there’s something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call?”
Chapter 7
The group stared dumbfounded at the blaring light show. Zeb and Tommy hustled over to the car and, finding no one inside, immediately started turning off switches.
“Did you see someone in this car?” Zeb shouted in a flustered manner back to Marnie, Mr. Pepper, and Sonya. “You’ve got a prankster running about. There’s no way all of these can turn on at the same time.”
Marnie and Sonya looked at Mr. Pepper. “We’ve got a prankster all right,” Sonya said, “but it’s probably not the same one from last night’s camper hoopla.”
Sonya walked off toward the police car. She would need to reel Fritz in without speaking out loud. Fritz sat laughing and enjoying himself in the front seat of the vehicle. Every time Zeb or Tommy turned off a switch, another one would be flipped on sending the horn or the lights back into life.
Sonya looked around to see where Willard was, but all three dogs were gone. The noise from the sirens probably sent them scooting under the nearest camper. She pursed her lips firmly and told Fritz mentally to stop the antics. The car became completely silent. A brisk wind blew around the car sending both officers’ hats flying, forcing the men to give chase.
“Fritz, did you have any luck with the ghost?”
“No, she’s a silly bit, Sunny. Ran off in that direction.” He pointed towards a wooded area.
“Thank you for trying. I’ll see you back at the house. Be good and run along,” Sonya said firmly in her head. She heard Fritz’s whisper right next to her ear. It startled her slightly making both Mr. Pepper and Marnie give her a perplexed look.
“I just wanted them to know you weren’t a charlatan, Sunny. The cowboy’s tone was sarcastic. He’s not so sure any longer, is he? You should do some mumbo-jumbo stuff while I turn all the lights on again until they beg you to make it stop.”
“You’re going to get me arrested, Fritz. Be good and if you don’t want to go home, help look for the ghost.”
“She’s not here,” he said in a bored tone, “I told you she went over to the trees. Maybe she’s a Trow. They like to groan and moan a lot. In Scotland, they, too, were undead spirits who were always looking for a spot at the hearth to warm themselves.” Feeling a light kiss on her cheek, she knew Fritz was gone.
“I don’t know what the heck got into this car,” Sheriff Walker said while sitting in the car. Looking up at Sonya, he said, “Mrs. Caruthers, you don’t have a sidekick pulling strings somewhere do you?”
Sonya laughed, “You’d be surprised, Sheriff, you really would. I’m sure whoever or whatever is having fun with you is gone.”
The Sheriff shook his head back and forth. “Well, the last few days down this road have kept the Department hopping; that’s for sure. The old Turner house burned down two nights ago.”
“I bet it was someone looking for the old Turner treasure, Sheriff,” Dale said while resting his weight up against the police vehicle. “Do you remember the Turner girls? They were real lookers in their day. Whatever happened to them?”
Zeb kept his attention on the dashboard of his car. “I was a deputy at the time, Dale. Some people think one daughter took
her mama’s money and ran off with a man from Springville. The other one got off to somewhere like Australia, but I didn’t pay much attention. Guess that’s why they never came back, too many people would have been prone to gossip.”
Dale’s expression didn’t hint at any worry over gossiping town folks.
“Still, everyone thought the one named Poppy ran off with Ryan Houseman. She, Poppy that is, was the reason he broke off his relationship with Kathy Berkowitz.” Dale shook his head at the tragedy of the situation. “There’ve been plenty of people who thought the Turner house might hold more than a few secrets, if not a stash of money.”
The police vehicle’s siren whirred to life again making Dale’s backend spring forward from its resting spot on the fender. This time, everyone laughed and Zeb said, “I’m beginning to believe in Marnie’s ghost. One thing is for sure, this ghost has perfect timing.”
“I’ll leave this pit and its body in your capable hands, Zeb,” Marnie said with a sigh. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. The Whispering Pines is hosting a barbecue competition in the next few weeks and I want the place shipshape.”
“Do you mind if I follow you, Marnie? I’ve got a few things I need to ask,” Sonya asked.
“You bet. Let’s have a nice cup of coffee. I need one and I just made donuts.”
The three dogs in their hiding spot under a neighboring camper sprang to life at the word ‘donuts’. They wagged their tails and did a few front paw weight shifts showing their enthusiasm for Marnie’s suggestion.
“Come on, Willard. Follow us,” Lewis said, his happiness lighting up his soft brown eyes.
“Oh, yeah,” Clark joined in with his tail high and wagging joyfully, “Mom makes great donuts and she shares with us. They’re sweet and taste like a big, fluffy cookie.”
The Ghost in Mr. Pepper's Bed Page 3