The Ghost Who Stayed Home

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “I prefer spirit,” Walt said shortly, flashing Chris a glare.

  “Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked.

  “Ghost just sound so…” Walt searched for the right word. Finally, he said, “Ghoulish.” He considered his choice of word a moment and then nodded his approval. “Yes, ghoulish. As if I’m jumping out at people and yelling boo.”

  “I’ve encountered a number of—ghosts—and none of them jumped out at me and said boo. Although, I think Chris did that to me outside.”

  Walt turned to Chris and arched his brows. “You didn’t?”

  Chris shrugged. “I was just trying to get her attention.”

  “But I think you’re being rather silly,” Heather told Walt.

  Walt frowned. “Silly?”

  Heather nodded. “If you’re a ghost, just own it. I mean, really, what’s the big deal?”

  “Can we just get on with what we have to do?” Walt said impatiently.

  Heather shrugged and then headed for the desk. “I assume you need me to use the computer for some reason. Evan told me Chris wanted me to bring it.”

  Before Chris could move, he found Heather sitting on him. Leaping from the chair, Chris let out a curse. Glancing over to Walt, he was met with a snicker.

  “Fair enough,” Chris conceded. “I suppose I deserved that.” Chris brushed off the illusion of his pants, as if in some way that might remove the uncomfortable sensation of Heather’s body moving through his. “How do you ever get used to that?”

  “One just does.” Walt shrugged.

  “One does what?” Heather asked.

  “Nothing important, I was just talking to Chris.”

  Heather glanced around. “Why can’t I see him? Evan was able to.”

  “It’s obvious Evan’s gift is stronger than yours; although yours seems to be intensifying. You’re able to see and hear me now.”

  “I suppose,” Heather muttered as she opened the laptop. “So why did you need me to bring my computer?”

  “I need you to look up something. We need to find out where Seligman is,” Walt explained.

  “Why?”

  “I assume Evan told you about the plane being hijacked?” Walt asked.

  “I’d read that in the newspaper, about the pilot they found tied up at the Gusarov Estate. Evan said something about the plane landing and how everyone is still alive, but Chris got hurt.”

  “Chris remembers where the plane landed. It was somewhere near Seligman. The only problem, we don’t know where that is.”

  “Are you saying the kidnappers have Danielle and Lily and the rest of them somewhere near Seligman?”

  “We just know the plane landed there. If we can find the airstrip on the computer, and if the plane’s still there, then we’re closer to finding them.”

  Heather turned on her laptop. “I hope Danielle hasn’t changed the Wi-Fi password.”

  “Wi-Fi password?” Walt looked at Chris and frowned. “I thought that’s why you wanted Heather to bring her computer because you didn’t know Danielle’s password?”

  “Different password, Walt,” Chris explained.

  “How many passwords does one need to use a computer?”

  Ignoring Walt’s exchange with Chris, Heather watched as her laptop powered on. A moment later she said, “Doesn’t look like she changed it. So what do you want me to look up?”

  “Seligman,” Chris said, and then spelled it out.

  “See what you can find out about Seligman,” Walt suggested before spelling it out as Chris had.

  Chris and Walt stood behind Heather as she ran a search for Seligman.

  “Looks like there’s a Seligman in Arizona and Nevada.” Heather glanced up to Walt.

  “Two Seligmans? Seriously?” Chris groaned.

  “According to Chris, it was desert terrain,” Walt told her.

  “Considering both Arizona and Nevada have plenty of desert, I suppose it could be either one.” Heather glanced back at the computer and refined her search. “Although the Nevada Seligman is in some area called White Pine. That might be the mountains; after all, Nevada also has forested areas like Tahoe…says here it’s a ghost town.”

  “Try the Arizona Seligman,” Chris said.

  “Chris wants you to look at the Arizona Seligman. Earlier he said something about being able to get pictures of the area…” Walt glanced at Chris.

  “Google Earth,” Chris told Walt. “Tell her to check Google Earth.”

  “I bet Chris wants me to check Google Earth,” Heather said before Walt could convey Chris’s words to her. Walt and Chris exchanged glances.

  “I wonder if she guessed that or…” Chris muttered.

  Several minutes later Heather pulled up Google Earth and was able to locate the area along the highway that Chris had remembered—some ten miles from the exit to Seligman.

  “That’s where I was,” Chris said excitedly. Looking over Heather’s shoulder, he pointed to the computer screen.

  “Chris said that’s where he was,” Walt told her, pointing to the section Chris had indicated. “Wherever he was, he was out in the middle of nowhere, and he walked a long dirt road and ended up along the highway.”

  Heather glanced up to Walt. “We can follow the dirt roads along this stretch of highway, but what are we looking for?”

  “According to Chris, they parked the plane under a Nissen hut. Which would be a considerable size.”

  “Nissen hut?” Heather frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Tell her a Quonset hut. That’s what most people know them as,” Chris told Walt.

  “Quonset hut, I mean,” Walt corrected.

  “And tell her there’s a trailer near the Quonset hut,” Chris added.

  Before Walt could convey Chris’s information, Sadie began to bark from the hallway.

  “Oh damn,” Walt cursed. “I forgot all about Joanne.”

  Heather looked up from the computer. “Joanne?”

  “She’s here to feed Sadie and Max. She comes at least twice a day,” Walt explained.

  From the hallway they could hear Sadie barking again and Joanne’s voice.

  “Oh crap,” Heather muttered, slamming her laptop shut. “What am I going to do?” she asked in a loud whisper.

  “She needs to hide somewhere,” Chris called out from where he now stood in the doorway. “Joanne is coming this way, and she’s looking in all the rooms.”

  Walt glanced around the library; there was nowhere to hide. “Stay here. I’ll see if I can get Sadie to distract her.”

  “Where else am I going to go?” Heather said under her breath. She looked around frantically, yet like Walt, she couldn’t see any place to hide. So she did the only thing she could do, she sat back down at the desk and opened her laptop and turned it on.

  In the hallway, Sadie—with Walt’s instruction—did her best to distract Joanne and nudge her to the kitchen, yet the light coming from the open door leading to the library caught Joanne’s attention.

  “In a minute, Sadie,” Joanne said absently as she shoved Sadie aside and continued down the hall. “I don’t remember leaving that light on.”

  When Joanne reached the open library door, she glanced in the room and was surprised to find Heather Donovan sitting at the desk, working on a laptop computer.

  “Heather?” Joanne asked in surprise.

  Heather looked up from the laptop and smiled cheerfully. “Joanne, hi! I thought I heard you coming in.”

  Wearing a frown of confusion, Joanne asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m using Danielle’s Wi-Fi. Didn’t she tell you?”

  Still frowning, Joanne entered the room and glanced down at the laptop sitting on the desk. It didn’t belong to Danielle. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been having problems with my router—and since I can’t really afford to buy a new one, Danielle told me I could borrow her Wi-Fi when she was gone if I had a problem again.” Heather smiled brightly.

 
“How did you get in here?” Joanne glanced around. Nothing seemed to be out of place.

  “Danielle gave me a key, of course.” Heather let out a sigh and seemingly turned her attention back to her laptop, ignoring Joanne.

  Joanne stood there a moment and stared. Finally, she said, “When you leave, can you make sure you turn the lights off?”

  Heather glanced up from the computer and flashed Joanne a smile. “Sure. No problem.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “Joanne’s in the kitchen, feeding Sadie and Max,” Walt told Heather a moment later. “Did you find anything? Chris wanted me to tell you there’s a trailer and dirt airstrip near the Nissen—I mean Quonset hut.”

  Focusing her attention on the monitor, Heather’s fingertips tapped away on the keyboard. “I just hope Joanne doesn’t ask for the key back, since I don’t have one.”

  “If she does, tell her you set it down somewhere when you came in and can’t find it now. Danielle and Lily do that often enough,” Walt told her.

  Heather glanced up at him from the computer. “Is Chris in here?”

  “No, he’s watching Joanne in the kitchen. He’ll tell us when she’s coming this way.”

  “I think I found it. If I’m not mistaken, this long road out in the middle of nowhere has a wind sock on one end—at least I think it’s a wind sock—and those other two buildings have to be your Quonset hut and trailer.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Walt said before disappearing.

  Walt returned a few moments later with Chris, while leaving Sadie to keep track of where Joanne was in the house.

  “That’s it!” Chris said excitedly as he looked over Heather’s shoulder. “I’m positive!”

  “You found it,” Walt told Heather. “Now all we have to do is get this information to the right person.”

  A few minutes later, Joanne showed up at the doorway to the library. “Are you going to be much longer?”

  “Umm…I’m not sure. Is there a problem?” Heather asked innocently.

  Joanne didn’t answer immediately—she just stared at Heather as if she couldn’t quite understand why Danielle’s neighbor and onetime tenant was in the house yet didn’t feel comfortable coming out and challenging her story.

  Sensing Joanne’s conflict, Heather searched for something to say to normalize the situation. She glanced over at Walt and then back to Joanne and asked, “Is there anything new about the plane?”

  Joanne shook her head. “Not that I know of. I’m sure you read in the paper about the witness who saw the plane go down. I know they’re still looking for it, but it’s in a heavily forested area.”

  Fidgeting with the corner of her laptop’s case, Heather drew her forehead into a frown. She thought about the information passed on to her via Chris: there had been no crash. At least, none that he could recall. “How do they know it was the same plane?”

  “I guess the witness described the mural along the side of the aircraft. From what I understand, it had some custom painting on one side—an eagle or something.”

  “Must have been some large eagle for the witness to see it from the ground.”

  Joanne shrugged. “I guess it was.” Joanne glanced at her watch. “I need to get going. I have to be somewhere in about fifteen minutes. Are you going to be much longer?”

  “I don’t know…you see, I’m looking for a job. And it gets a little frustrating searching and having the Internet cut out.”

  “I didn’t know you were looking for a job.”

  Heather shrugged. “Well, things here didn’t work out quite like I thought when I moved in. I suppose you might say I need to get back to the real world.” She looked over at Walt, who silently listened, resisting the temptation to break into laughter over the bizarre nature of her own words—discussing the real world while looking at a ghost.

  “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Thanks. You know, Joanne, if you need me to come over here to check on the animals, feed them or anything, I would be happy to. I’m just down the street. It’s the least I can do to help out Danielle for all she’s done for me.”

  “That’s really nice of you. I might take you up on that. I’ll let you know.”

  Heather flashed Joanne a smile. “No problem. You have my phone number, don’t you?”

  Joanne nodded and patted her purse. “It’s in my phone.”

  Heather flashed Joanne another smile and then turned her attention back to her laptop. “I guess I should get back to what I was doing so I can get out of here.”

  Joanne glanced at Sadie, who had come into the library with her and was now curled up by Heather’s feet. “I suppose Sadie’s happy to have the company. I imagine she gets rather lonely over here.”

  After Joanne left a few minutes later, Heather opened the top drawer of the library desk and took out a pen and pad of paper. She began jotting down notes on the paper, occasionally looking up at the monitor.

  “What are you doing?” Walt asked.

  “I need to remember what to tell them,” Heather explained.

  “The question now—who is them?” Chris said as he walked in the room. A moment earlier he had followed Joanne to the front door and watched from the window as she walked to her car and got in before driving off.

  “Chris is wondering who you should call,” Walt explained.

  Heather stopped writing on the notepad. “Well, we better figure that out before I leave here.” Considering the question a moment, she absently twisted the end of one braid around her finger.

  “There were those G-Men,” Walt suggested.

  Heather stopped twisting her hair a moment and looked up at Walt. “What G-men?”

  “They came over here with Brian when they were looking for Evan.”

  “How exactly did they know Evan was here? He didn’t tell me.”

  “According to what he told me, he called his aunt to tell her he was okay, and they traced the call,” Chris explained.

  After Walt recounted what Chris had just said, Heather let out a sigh, released hold of her hair, and glanced at the phone sitting on the desktop. “I suppose that means I can’t use this phone to give my tip. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal had Joanne not found me here.”

  “Do you know how to get ahold of the G-Men?” Walt asked.

  Heather stood up and shut her laptop. “No. But I’ll start with Brian Henderson first. Sounds like he’s keeping in touch with all the agencies involved with this thing. I just wish there was some way I could find out if he’s following up on my tip or discounting it as some crackpot.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Chris offered. “I can go down to the police station and see what Brian does.”

  Walt nodded. “Good idea.”

  Heather picked up the laptop. “What’s a good idea?”

  “Chris is going down to the police station to keep an eye on Brian, see how he handles your information.”

  Heather put her laptop back on the desk. “Then I suppose I better leave this here to give me an excuse to come back over. If Brian doesn’t follow up on the information, I’ll have to figure out something else. I just wish I had a key so I didn’t have to rely on you to unlock the door.”

  Just as Heather stepped from the desk, one of its bottom drawers slid open, seemingly of its own volition. From the drawer a key floated up, hovering just inches from Heather’s face. Her eyes crossed from the unexpected closely placed object. She lurched back and laughed and then snatched the key from midair and said, “Thanks. Why didn’t you give this to me before, when I was afraid Joanne might ask for the key back?”

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU, Walt?” Chris asked after Heather left. The two had moved up to the attic.

  “Why didn’t I what?” Walt looked out the window and watched Heather disappear down the street.

  “Give her the key when she first mentioned it?”

  Walt shrugged. “I’m not sure how I feel about Heather coming and going at will.”

&nbs
p; “Well, for Heather, she seemed rather—normal today. And I do appreciate her helping us.”

  Still staring out the window, Walt let out a sigh. “Me too.”

  BRIAN HENDERSON HUNG up the telephone after talking to Mason Murdock. According to the pilot, the hospital would be releasing him in the morning. In the meantime, Murdock kept insisting the woman he had been dating—the woman whom he had discussed Chris’s true identity with—would never have been involved in a hijacking and kidnapping scheme. Unfortunately, the woman, Andrea Banner, could not be located for questioning. According to one of her neighbors, she had taken off last Sunday—the day before the hijacking, and no one seemed to know where exactly she had gone.

  Just as Brian was about to stand up from the desk, the phone began to ring. He sat down and answered the call.

  “Someone’s on the phone, insisting she—at least I think it’s a she—knows where Chris Johnson’s plane landed,” the receptionist told Brian.

  “Put her on. It’s probably a crank call, but let me hear what she has to say.”

  Unbeknownst to Brian, he was no longer alone in the chief’s office. Sitting in the chair facing the desk was Chris Johnson.

  “I think it’s a shame I don’t have some of Walt’s powers,” Chris muttered as he leaned back in the chair. He propped one ankle over the opposing knee and glanced around the room before turning his attention to Brian and his phone conversation.

  “Is this Brian Henderson?” came a raspy whisper on the other end of the line. Something crackled, as if whomever was on the phone was speaking through a piece of paper while it was being crinkled.

  “Yes. I understand this has to do with the plane that was hijacked?”

  “Yes. It didn’t crash. It landed a few miles from Seligman, Arizona, on a dirt airstrip. The plane is hidden inside a Quonset hut.”

  “Who is this?” Brian asked.

  “I can’t tell you that. But you need to check it out,” the raspy voice urged.

  “It is illegal to make crank calls,” Brian said sternly.

  “I know Chris Johnson is really Chris Glandon.”

  Brian froze for a moment and then sat up straighter in the chair. Holding the phone to his ear, he said in a low and serious voice, “Go on.”