The Ghost Who Stayed Home

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The Ghost Who Stayed Home Page 1

by Anna J. McIntyre




  THE GHOST WHO STAYED HOME

  BOBBI HOLMES

  Illustrated by

  ELIZABETH MACKEY

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  The Ghost and the Leprechaun

  Haunting Danielle Newsletter

  Haunting Danielle Series

  Bobbi Holmes

  Unlocked Hearts Series

  The Coulson Series

  Also by Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes

  The Ghost Who Stayed Home

  (Haunting Danielle, Book 11)

  A Novel

  By Bobbi Holmes

  Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey

  * * *

  Copyright © 2016 Bobbi Holmes

  Robeth Publishing, LLC

  All Rights Reserved.

  * * *

  This novel is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to places or actual persons,

  living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  www.robeth.com

  To my precious grandchildren, Addison and Evan.

  To Evan for borrowing his name,

  and to Addison for borrowing her age.

  ONE

  Gray storm clouds blanketed the sky, obscuring the sun and making the day feel more winter than spring. It provided a dismal backdrop for Marlow House, which seemed somehow taller on this day to Joanne Johnson as she pulled up in front of the house and parked her car.

  With the engine still running and her hands clutching the steering wheel, Joanne peered out the car window, studying her place of employment. The towering structure, shielded from the impending storm by the mansard roofline, appeared lifeless and deplete of hope. Joanne knew if she sat there much longer, she was going to cry. Steeling her courage, the middle-aged housekeeper took a deep breath and turned off the engine. Removing the keys from the ignition and snatching her purse off the passenger seat, she opened the car door and got out of the vehicle.

  Hurrying up to the front walk of Marlow House, hoping to get inside before the rain started falling, she heard someone call out her name just as she reached the gate. Pausing a moment, she turned to the street and saw Adam Nichols rushing toward her. She guessed he was coming from Ian’s house.

  Adam, in his mid-thirties, was a few years older than her employer, Danielle Boatman. Joanne had known Adam for as long as she could remember. He had been a handsome teenage boy and had grown up to be a good-looking man, with dark brown—almost black—eyes and shortly cropped brown hair. Real estate broker and owner of Frederickport Vacation Properties, he always dressed sharply, and if Joanne wasn’t imagining things—he had recently improved his wardrobe. The slacks and dress shirts he wore these days seemed to be higher quality compared to his wardrobe six months ago. She liked Adam, even if he was something of a scamp with the ladies.

  Slightly out of breath when he reached her, he asked, “Have you heard anything?”

  “No.” Joanne glanced up to the sky and pushed open the gate. “It’s going to start raining. Come inside. We can talk there.”

  With a nod, Adam silently followed Joanne. A brisk gust of air moved rudely across the walkway. By reflex Adam tugged his light jacket tighter around his body and shivered. He picked up his step and caught up with Joanne, who was now at the front door, inserting her house key into the lock. Seeking warmth, Adam buried his hands deep in his pockets. He shivered and glanced around, waiting for Joanne to let them inside.

  Rain started to fall just as the door swung open. Both Joanne and Adam rushed into the front entry hall of Marlow House. There were no overhead lights on inside, just a dim glow of randomly placed night-lights to break up the darkness. All the shades were drawn, but considering the cloudy day, even if they had been open, the sunlight would be minimal.

  Inside, Sadie sat in the center of the entry hall, her tail wagging. Adam didn’t notice her immediately—not until the dog let out a bark in greeting just as Joanne flipped on an overhead light. At one time the golden retriever had made Adam nervous, but he and the dog had since come to terms with each other.

  “Ahh, girl,” Joanne said as she turned to Sadie and put out her hand. The dog rushed to her, tail still wagging. Kneeling down, Joanne accepted the wet kisses and showed her affection by several energetic pats to the dog’s furry shoulders. Joanne didn’t have to tell Sadie to calm down—for in the next moment the dog let out a short bark and then sat down, no longer jumping on the housekeeper.

  Adam frowned at Sadie and thought, If I didn’t know better, I’d say Ian—or someone—had just given Sadie the command to sit.

  “Come in the kitchen with me. I need to feed Sadie and Max.” Joanne dropped her purse on the entry table and pulled off her jacket. She hung the jacket on the coat rack and then headed to the kitchen.

  “I keep wondering what I’m going to do with them,” Adam said as he followed Joanne.

  “I’m trying not to think about that.”

  “I hope they’re okay here.” Adam watched Sadie, who trotted along beside Joanne.

  “They are for now.” Once in the kitchen, Joanne headed to the pantry for bags of dog and cat food.

  Adam took a seat at the kitchen table and watched as Joanne filled two bowls with food—one with cat food and one with dog food—and set them both on the floor. Sadie went immediately for her bowl and started eating.

  “Aren’t you afraid Sadie is going to eat the cat’s food?” Adam glanced around, looking for Max. The cat was nowhere in sight.

  Joanne laughed and shook her head. “It’s the strangest thing. Sadie never touches Max’s food.”

  “Ian must have really trained her well.”

  “You want a cup of coffee?” Joanne asked as she reached for the canister with coffee and started making a pot.

  “Sure, if you’re making some.” Adam stood up for a moment and removed his jacket. Before sitting back down, he hung it on the back of his chair.

  “Cream, sugar?” Joanne filled the pot with water from the sink.

  Adam shook his head. “Black is fine.”

  Joanne poured water into the coffee pot. “You can tell your grandmother I’ve been coming over here at least twice a day.”

  “I really appreciate it. But I’ll admit, I was a little surprised they decided to leave Sadie here. I understand Max.”

  Joanne leaned back against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew, her arms now folded across her chest. “Sadie is comfortable here, and her and Max get along. They can both get to the side yard by the doggy door. I guess Ian felt she’d be happier here than a kennel. And like I said, I try to get over here at least twice a day.”

  “I appreciat
e it. But this can’t go on indefinitely.”

  Joanne closed her eyes a moment and let out a sigh. “I know.” She opened her eyes again and looked at Adam. “I assume you were over at Ian’s when I drove up?”

  Adam nodded. “I came over to check on it. I stopped by Chris’s too, I have the key. Making sure everything is okay.”

  Joanne laughed bitterly. “Nothing’s okay.” She turned back to the counter and pulled two coffee cups from the overhead cabinet. A moment later she brought two filled cups to the table and sat down. She handed one to Adam.

  After taking a sip, she asked, “So what are you going to do with Ian’s house?”

  “He has a lease.” Staring at the coffee cup sitting on the table before him, Adam absently fiddled with its porcelain handle.

  “Come on, Adam, you know what I mean.”

  “The house belongs to my grandmother. Normally, I would be the one to make the call—even with the properties she owns—but we’re talking Danielle here.”

  “How is your grandmother handling all this?” Joanne took another sip of her coffee.

  “Not terrific. She stubbornly refuses to believe…” Adam let out a sigh and picked up his cup.

  “She’s pretty fond of Danielle, isn’t she?”

  “Oh yeah.” Slouching down in the chair, Adam took a drink of the coffee and then set the cup back on the table. “She thinks of her as a granddaughter. She’s pretty fond of Lily too. But it’s different with Danielle.”

  “WHAT ABOUT DANIELLE AND LILY? Where are they?” Walt Marlow shouted to deaf ears. He sat on one of the empty chairs at the kitchen table. Frustrated, the ghost of Marlow House glanced from Joanne to Adam and back to Joanne. He was sorely tempted to command a pen to start writing his question onto a blank sheet of paper and drop it on the kitchen table, but he knew that would simply send Joanne and Adam running from the house—like Adam had run from the house some ten months earlier when Walt had hurled a croquet set at Adam and his companion Bill Jones after the pair had broken into the house, searching for the Missing Thorndike.

  Had it really been ten months ago? Walt wondered. A spirit trapped in a house for almost a century didn’t always have the best sense of time. Those past decades—from the time of his death to when Danielle arrived ten months earlier and helped him come to terms with his new reality—were primarily a foggy, unfocused haze. There were moments he could recall, such as when Joanne (when she still worked for Danielle’s great-aunt) would show up to clean the house on a regular basis. Yet Walt couldn’t recall the housekeeper before Joanne, and he was sure there had been one—or more.

  When Danielle had appeared on his doorstep with Lily to claim her inheritance, Walt was fully prepared to call the police and have the young women escorted off his property. Of course, that was not really possible—something Walt hadn’t quite grasped at the time. How could a ghost who was trapped inside Marlow House call the police? No one could see or hear him—except for Danielle—and Max and Sadie. There was also Chris and Evan—and perhaps Heather. However, Walt would rather avoid Danielle’s quirky neighbor Heather, whose sensitivity to spirits seemed to be heightening in recent weeks.

  The truth was, Walt was no longer trapped in Marlow House—not in the same way as he had been when Danielle had first walked into his life—or more aptly, his death. He could leave now, but once he did, he would never be able to return and would instead be forced to continue to the next level—whatever that might be.

  Motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was Sadie. She had finished her bowl of food and was now sniffing at Max’s dish.

  “Sadie!” Walt snapped.

  The golden retriever looked up guiltily.

  “Why don’t you go tell Max he has food in his bowl,” Walt suggested.

  Letting out a grunt, Sadie reluctantly turned from Max’s bowl and headed for the doorway.

  “He’s in the attic!” Walt called after Sadie.

  “I can’t believe that,” Adam said. He had just noticed Sadie sniffing at the cat food. “She didn’t touch it.”

  “I told you.” Joanne set her now empty coffee cup on the table. “She never does.”

  “Forget about Max and Sadie,” Walt said impatiently. “Keep talking. Tell me what happened to Danielle and Lily!”

  “Are you going to the city council meeting?” Adam asked Joanne.

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “Why are you talking about a city council meeting? What’s going on with Danielle and Lily?” Walt asked.

  “Are you going?” Joanne asked.

  “I think I should.” Adam glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you let me treat you to lunch. I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m starving. We can talk there.”

  Walt stood up abruptly. “No!”

  “I am kind of hungry.” Joanne got up from the table and picked up her empty coffee cup and Adam’s, carrying them to the kitchen sink, where she quickly washed and dried them before returning the cups to the overhead cabinet.

  “Is Pier Café alright?” Adam asked.

  “Sure.” Joanne walked to the coffee pot and turned it off.

  “You can’t leave yet!”

  Walt’s pleas went unheeded. Several minutes later he stood at the attic window, looking out, and watched as Joanne got into her car. Just before she pulled her vehicle from the curb, Adam ran back across the street to Ian’s house, where he had parked his car.

  Walt stood there a few minutes and stared outside. It was raining now, and the wind was starting to kick up, coming in from the west, sending the raindrops pounding against the windowpane.

  A meow at Walt’s feet broke his concentration. He looked down. Max stared up at him through golden eyes, his black tail swishing back and forth.

  “Didn’t Sadie tell you dinner was here?”

  A bark came from the doorway. Walt glanced in that direction. He hadn’t noticed Sadie when he had come into the attic a few minutes earlier. Max let out another meow.

  “No, Max,” Walt said. “We still don’t know where she is.”

  TWO

  Huddled under the blanket dome, lit flashlight in hand, Evan MacDonald studied the invitation to Trevor’s birthday party. His father had promised to be home in time to take him to the party. It was tomorrow. He wasn’t home yet.

  Turning off the flashlight, Evan pulled down the blanket and glanced around the dark room. His older brother, Eddy, was sleeping in the next bed. They weren’t at home. They were at their Aunt Sissy’s house, but they were supposed to be home by now. Home in time for his dad to take him to the birthday party. His Aunt Sissy had said she would take him, but still—something didn’t feel right.

  The bedroom door was ajar, and the hallway light had been left on. Sitting up in the bed, Evan looked at the partially opened doorway. The house was quiet. Evan was pretty sure his aunt was still awake. His uncle had gone out right before he and Eddy had gone to bed, and he hadn’t heard him come home yet.

  Tossing the flashlight to the foot of his bed along with the birthday invitation, Evan thought about his Aunt Sissy. He and Eddy usually stayed with her if his father went out of town, like when his dad went to Hawaii before Christmas. However, Aunt Sissy was acting strange—strange for Aunt Sissy.

  When he visited his grandparents—his mother’s parents—he was used to his grandma always hugging on him and smacking kisses all over his face before he could wiggle away. He loved his grandmother, so he didn’t really mind it. Plus, his dad said she acted that way because she missed his mother so much.

  But Aunt Sissy wasn’t like that—at least she hadn’t been until this week. The day after he and Eddy had arrived, Aunt Sissy started getting all mushy and touchy, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could swear he saw tears in her eyes a few times after she captured him in a suffocating bear hug. He wasn’t sure what was up with her, but it was starting to creep him out.

  Lights from a car’s headlights lit up the room for a moment and then it went dark agai
n. His uncle was home. Very quietly, Evan slipped out of bed and made his way to the open doorway. He stood there and listened. A few moments later he heard the front door open and close, and then he heard the hushed voices of his aunt and uncle downstairs.

  Instead of going back to bed, Evan decided to fill up his cup with water. Aunt Sissy called it a sippy cup—which Eddy found insulting. “Sippy cups are for babies,” his brother, Eddy, insisted whenever she called them that. Their cups just had spill-proof lids and built-in straws. Aunt Sissy only laughed when he corrected her and then rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever.” Evan didn’t care what they were called, he just wanted to make sure his was filled before he went to sleep, in case he woke up in the middle of the night thirsty. His dad normally made sure they were full, but his dad wasn’t here.

 

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