Haunting Danielle 28 The Ghost and the Birthday Boy

by Bobbi Holmes

  There were several vehicles—ones she had never seen before—parked in front of Marlow House. Someone was staying over there. People had been coming and going for the last couple of days.

  Pearl considered calling the police and letting them know the Marlows had likely reopened their illegal boardinghouse. But why bother calling the police? The officer she normally called had just slunk out of Heather’s house right after the Marlows’ arrival. They were all in cahoots with each other. With disgust, Pearl closed her blinds.

  Thirty

  Later Sunday morning, Chris drove over to Heather’s and picked her up. They headed over to the Marymoor site. After talking to Ian earlier about what they planned to do, Ian promised to keep his parents entertained that morning so they wouldn’t drive by their property and run into Heather and Chris.

  Pulling up in front of the site, Chris parked and turned off the engine. They remained sitting in the car, seatbelts on, with Chris’s hands resting on the steering wheel.

  “Last night was a setup, wasn’t it?” Chris asked.

  Heather frowned and looked from the Marymoor property to Chris. “What are you talking about?”

  “You asked Brian to meet you at the restaurant.”

  Heather grinned. “Yeah. I told him to meet me in the bar.”

  “You know, he tried to pay for his dinner last night. I wouldn’t let him,” Chris said.

  “Yeah, I know. He told me. I think he felt funny having you pay, since you hadn’t invited him. But I figured it served you right.”

  “Served me right for what?” Chris frowned.

  “Oh, fess up. The only reason you wanted me to come is so that I’d be protection from Laura,” Heather said.

  “I don’t need protection,” Chris said with a snort.

  “Okay, not protection. But a buffer.”

  Chris sighed. “Okay, maybe a little. But I still wanted you to come.”

  “Chris, you sort of have a habit of using me for shock value. I don’t think you mean anything by it, but sometimes it’s irritating.”

  “What do you mean shock value?” Chris asked, sincerely confused.

  “You did it with your uncles. You wanted them to think we were dating. Because you found it funny that they thought you were seeing someone like me.”

  Chris frowned. “What do you mean someone like you?”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t play stupid. I’m happy with myself. I’m who I am. I think I’m happier with myself than I have been in years. And part of that has to do with you. So I thank you for that. But I also see how other people look at me.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. But you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

  Chris studied Heather. Before he could respond, Heather looked past him to the Marymoor property and called out, “Look!”

  Chris turned around to see what Heather saw. Standing behind the fence stood a row of women. At least they had been women during their lives. Considering their transparent nature, he knew they were spirits. Silently, he counted. There were eight of them.

  “I wonder who they are,” Heather whispered.

  “I doubt they can hear you from here,” Chris said.

  “Are they wearing nurse uniforms?”

  Narrowing his eyes, Chris studied the apparitions. “I don’t think so. It looks like something patients wore.”

  “Ready?” Heather unfastened her seatbelt.

  Chris unfastened his. “Okay. Let’s walk over there. But remember, we don’t want them to know we can see them.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen them before,” Caroline said as she watched the two people get out of the car.

  Elsie studied the pair and frowned. “I hope they’re not coming over here. Maybe they’re going to one of the other houses.”

  “No. They’re heading our way. Ignore them; hopefully they won’t notice us,” Rose suggested.

  The eight women—or more accurately, spirits—watched as the man and woman walked toward them, chatting amongst themselves. They stopped when they reached the gate, making no attempt to enter.

  “This is a nice piece of property,” the woman said. “It is a nice neighborhood.”

  “Yes, it is,” the man said. “But I’m a little spoiled. I like where we live better.”

  “That’s just because your house is right on the water,” the woman retorted.

  “I heard someone bought this property. I wonder what they’re going to do with it,” the man said.

  “Sounds like they’re just lookers,” Florence said. “Rose, I don’t think they’re someone we need to worry about.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if he was staying,” Gertie said.

  “Oh, Gertie!” Caroline laughed.

  “Caroline, I have to agree with Gertie. He is rather delicious,” Viola said with a sigh.

  “Ladies,” Molly said, when she appeared by the gate the next moment, “what are you doing out here?”

  “We’re watching the lovely scenery. Who do you think he is? Can he stay?” Gertie asked.

  “You aren’t supposed to talk to strangers. Randal will get mad,” Molly reminded her.

  “Randal is always mad,” Edna snapped. “And we haven’t talked to them; we’re just looking. Anyway, Randal hasn’t been here since—since before Sean left.”

  “We don’t want to give him any reason to return right now,” Molly said.

  “I want to go home,” Viola said. “Why can’t we just go home? Everyone else could go. It’s just us, Waylon, and Sid now. Sid is always angry, and Waylon is always afraid. And neither of them looks like him.” Viola pointed to the stranger standing beyond the gate with the woman.

  The sound of a car driving down the street caught their attention. They all turned to see where it was going.

  Chris and Heather watched as the car parked behind Chris’s vehicle. A moment later, two women got out. It was Laura and Kelly.

  “Here comes your girlfriend,” Heather whispered.

  “I thought Ian promised to keep them away,” Chris whispered back. He looked over at the spirits. They were no longer there.

  “Drat, they scared them off,” Heather whispered to Chris.

  “Well, hello, what are you guys doing here?” Kelly asked when she and Laura walked up to them.

  “We were on our way to the office,” Heather lied, “and we thought we’d stop and have a look at the property your parents bought.”

  “You’re working on a Sunday?” Laura asked.

  “Yeah, Chris is a slave driver,” Heather said.

  “We’re just going in for a few minutes,” Chris lied.

  “Laura wanted to see the property,” Kelly told them.

  “Kelly was telling me how it’s haunted,” Laura said with a giggle.

  “We really need to stop saying that. I have a feeling your sister is starting to believe it,” Kelly said.

  “Oh, Lily will get over it,” Laura said. “But she’s like Mom. Believes all that stuff is possible. Mom even claimed Grandma came to her after she died. Grandma told her everything was okay, that she was going to be with Grandpa.”

  “And you didn’t believe her?” Heather asked.

  Laura frowned at Heather. “Seriously?”

  Heather shrugged. “I just think anything’s possible.”

  “We need to get going,” Chris said.

  When Chris and Heather drove off in the car a few minutes later, Kelly said, “Don’t you know? Heather once claimed she can see ghosts.”

  “I can’t believe it; even ghosts hit on you,” Heather scoffed.

  “No ghost hit on me,” Chris argued.

  “They would have had they known you could see them,” Heather said.

  “Hey, you’re making me feel like a piece of meat.”

  Heather glanced out the back window and watched as Laura and Kelly stood in front of the property, watching them drive away. “I hope one of those spirits throws something at them. I k
now she’s Lily’s sister, but she irritates me.”

  “So does Kelly,” Chris reminded her. “Irritates you, that is.”

  Heather turned around in the seat and looked out the front windshield. “True. Hey, where are we going? This isn’t the way home.”

  “You told them we were going to the office,” he reminded her.

  “Well, I don’t really want to go,” Heather said.

  “Don’t worry, I’m turning up here. I just didn’t want them to see us going the other way.”

  “We need to tell Danielle and Walt what we found out.” Heather picked up her purse off the floor and removed a piece of paper. She started writing.

  Chris glanced over. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t want to forget. Some of them called the others by names.”

  Walt and Danielle sat in Heather’s living room with Heather and Chris.

  “Eva was right; there are more than three spirits haunting the place. My bet, there are eleven spirits over there,” Chris said.

  “Eleven? How did you come up with that number?” Walt asked.

  “We know Eva and Marie saw two men and Molly the nurse. I’m certain we saw Molly today, too. She was wearing a nurse’s uniform with the bloodstain,” Chris said.

  “But there were eight women there before Molly showed up,” Heather said. “We’re pretty sure they were patients, not nurses, because of how they dressed. And when Molly showed up—or who we assume was Molly—she was kinda bossy with them.”

  “While we didn’t see the men, one woman mentioned the two men. She called them Waylon and Sid,” Chris said.

  Danielle frowned. “Waylon’s the name of the patient who killed Molly.”

  Heather glanced at Danielle. “Sounds like he’s one of the spirits haunting the place.”

  “But why are you so sure there are only eleven spirits?” Walt asked.

  Chris looked to Walt. “It was something one of them said.”

  “But they also mentioned someone else. They talked about a Randal,” Heather reminded Chris.

  “I know, but it didn’t sound like he was still there,” Chris said.

  Danielle let out a sigh. “I wonder who the women were, and why they haven’t moved on.”

  “I don’t know. But I caught a couple of the names. I wrote them down.” Heather picked up her purse and removed the small notebook. She opened to the page she had written on and read, “Rose, Gertie, Caroline, Randal, Waylon and Sid. Of course, we already mention the guys’ names.” Heather looked up and then said, “One of them said she wanted to go home. Then she said something about how everyone had left, and there was just them, Waylon and Sid.”

  “She also said Sid was always angry and Waylon was afraid,” Chris added.

  “Interesting,” Danielle murmured. “I would expect Waylon to be the angry one; he’s the one who killed Molly.”

  “Now what?” Heather asked.

  “I’d like to find out who they were—it could give us a clue why they stuck around. And if we can find something about their families, people they cared about who have moved on, it will be easier to convince them to continue in their journey.”

  “By what they said, I’m fairly certain they don’t understand they’re dead,” Chris said. “While they seem to know that not everyone can see them, I don’t think they have figured out why.”

  “Well, they are crazy, so there is that,” Heather said.

  Thirty-One

  Danielle’s cellphone rang. Picking up the phone, she glanced at it and said, “It’s Lily,” before answering. A few minutes later, after updating Lily on Heather and Chris’s visit to the property, Danielle got off the phone and said, “Ian’s parents are taking Tammy and Gene out to lunch over in Astoria. Laura and Kelly are going with them.”

  “Not Ian and Lily?” Walt asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “No. Ian made an excuse about having to do something for his editor. He wants to do a little online sleuthing, hoping to find something on Rupert’s parents.”

  “What about Lily?” Heather asked.

  “She’s staying home with Connor. Made some excuse why she couldn’t go.”

  “Now what?” Heather asked.

  “While Ian is looking into Rupert’s parents, I think the four of us should go down to the museum, check out the files on Marymoor, and see if we can find out who those women were. Hopefully, we can find some information to help us get them to move on,” Danielle suggested.

  Heather glanced at the time. “If we’re going to do that, we’d better leave now; the museum closes early on Sunday.”

  “If it’s closed, we can always stop at the Catholic church; I understand they’re open all day on Sunday,” Chris suggested.

  “Why would we stop at the Catholic church?” Danielle asked with a frown.

  “Don’t they still do exorcisms?” Chris joked.

  “Perhaps the board needs to consider a temporary exhibit on Marymoor Sanatorium, with all the recent interest in the place,” Millie Samson said after Walt asked her if they could go back in the storage room and look through the files. She stood behind the counter at the museum gift store, while another docent chatted to several visitors in the exhibit area.

  Walt had told Millie he was researching for a book, and considering the lateness in the day, Danielle and his friends had offered to help go through the files to speed up the process. They knew Millie would never deny Chris access to the museum files, considering she knew his true identity, and that identity, Chris Glandon, was the museum’s major benefactor.

  “Others have asked to see the files?” Danielle asked.

  “Ever since the city announced they were listing the property again, a number of our members have asked about the sanatorium. Many had never heard of it. Only one person asked to see the files. That was Tori Simmons. But now that I think of it, that was a few weeks before there was any talk about listing the property.”

  “Tori Simmons? Joe Morelli’s sister?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes. She was doing some genealogy research.” Millie added in a whisper, “One of her ancestors was a patient there.”

  “Really?” Danielle said, while Heather, Chris, and Walt silently listened.

  “I think she wanted to find out why she was sent there.”

  “Because she was crazy?” Heather suggested.

  Millie turned a smile at Heather and said, “Not necessarily by today’s standards. No, back then they could lock women away simply for not behaving as society deemed proper.”

  Chris glanced over to Heather and arched a brow. Heather noticed his silent commentary and frowned. She reached over and gave his arm a pinch.

  “Ouch!” Chris rubbed his arm. “I thought you weren’t going to do that anymore.”

  “I didn’t say anything about pinches.” Heather shrugged.

  Millie flashed a smile at Heather and Chris and continued, “Or, if someone was a lesbian, they could commit her. Not even a lesbian, just a woman who did not act feminine enough, like we used to call tomboys. If a man in her life did not approve, he could get her committed. Of course, medical conditions, like epilepsy, also got people committed back then, or postpartum depression.”

  “That really sucks,” Heather grumbled.

  “They burned us at the stake; they committed us to mental institutions,” Heather snarked as she walked into the storage room with Walt, Danielle, and Chris. Chris flipped on the overhead light while Walt closed the door behind them.

  “I wonder why Joe’s ancestor was sent to Marymoor,” Chris said.

  They followed Danielle. The museum hadn’t moved the boxes since she had gone through them when searching for information on Sean Sullivan. Walt used his energy to move the boxes to the long table in the center of the storage room. The boxes floated to the table while each person took a seat.

  “Photographs,” Chris said after a few minutes of sorting through a box. Black-and-white photographs slid from a large envelope, scattering on the
table. Heather stood up to get a better look.

  “That’s them!” Heather said excitedly. She picked up the photos, sorting through them.

  “You saw all of those women today?” Danielle asked.

  Heather handed Chris the photos, who counted them, then flipped through each one, looking at the faces of the women. He nodded. “Yes, it’s them.” He turned the photographs over and looked at the back side of each one. “There are no names on any of them, but they’re all numbered.”

  “Can I see?” Walt asked, holding out his hand. Chris passed the stack of photos to Walt.

  “Viola Hawkes,” Walt said, looking at one photograph.

  “You knew her?” Danielle asked.

  “I knew who she was. She lived in Portland, a very wealthy family. A patron of the arts. While I can’t say I knew her personally, Eva once pointed her out to me. I don’t think they were friends, but Eva knew who she was.” Walt looked up from the photograph. “She was a patient at Marymoor?”

  “It looks that way,” Chris said.

  Still holding the photo and studying it, Walt shook his head. “I remember when she married; it was quite the news. She was a wealthy heiress, a socialite. And then, less than a year later, she went abroad with her new husband, and I heard she died in Paris. He returned to the States. When was she at Marymoor?” Walt frowned.

  “She must have died at Marymoor,” Heather said. “That’s where her spirit is. I saw her there this morning. She obviously didn’t die in Paris.”

  Walt frowned and flipped through the rest of the photographs. “I recognize some of these other women. I never heard about any of them being at Marymoor. But they were all from wealthy families.”

  “And they were all sent to Marymoor?” Danielle asked.