Ghost of Halloween Past

by McIntyre, Anna J

  The sound of an approaching car broke the silence. Danielle opened her eyes and was surprised to see a police car parking in front of her house. It wasn’t until the driver got out of the vehicle did she know who it was: Police Chief McDonald.

  “You look comfortable,” MacDonald greeted as he approached the swing.

  “Morning, Chief.”

  Max opened his eyes and raised his head. He stared at the uniformed man who now stood several feet from the swing.

  “Who’s your friend?” The chief smiled down at the black cat.

  “This is Max.” Danielle nodded to the empty space on the swing. “Have a seat.”

  “I didn’t know you had a cat.” MacDonald sat next to Danielle.

  “He sort of happened to me.” Danielle smiled. Max closed his eyes and rested his chin back on Danielle’s arm.

  “Sounds about right.” MacDonald chuckled and then asked, “Have you read the morning paper?”

  “I would have, had someone not stolen it. Gee, maybe I need to file a police report?” Danielle joked.

  “I suppose I could rouse up that character across the street. He looks like he might be a likely suspect.”

  “Yeah, normally it is Ian. Yet, he’s nice about it, lets us read it first…Well, maybe not always first. But no, he swears it wasn’t him this time. So, what’s up?”

  “It wouldn’t have even been published if Millie Samson hadn’t called the paper.” MacDonald leaned back in the swing.

  “Millie from the museum?”

  MacDonald nodded. “Yes.”

  “So what’s going on?”

  “Millie lives down the street from Presley House.”

  Max lifted his head and looked at MacDonald.

  “Yesterday four teenage boys broke into the house. She saw them climbing over the back fence and called us.”

  “A Halloween prank?” Danielle asked.

  “It started out that way. They were going to install some spy cameras, I assume to set up some pranks to play on their classmates and post on YouTube.”

  “Gotta love what YouTube has done for today’s youth,” Danielle snickered.

  “When Joe and Brian arrived, two of them were running out of the house like the devil himself was chasing them. They rounded them up made them sit on the curb, tried to get them to calm down. They weren’t making any sense. Before they had a chance to find out what was going on, the other two came running out.”

  “Running out of the house? Don't tell me, Presley House’s ghost, the one who likes to dabble with electricity, played a few tricks on them?”

  “I’m not quite sure.”

  Danielle continued to pet Max. “What do you mean?”

  “They claimed there was a dead body in the house. Stuffed in an old trunk in the basement.”

  “Claimed? You mean there wasn’t one?”

  “When Brian, Joe, and the other officers went down there, the chest was empty. But the boys swore they saw one. My men searched the property; they couldn’t find anyone—alive or dead.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “The thing is, they brought the trunk in. And according to the lab, it looks like there could have been a body in there—and fairly recently.”

  “How do they figure that?” Danielle asked.

  “Body fluids—blood.”

  “Yuck.” Danielle wrinkled her nose.

  “The smell alone would knock you over.”

  “So what happened to the body?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”

  Danielle smiled up at the chief. “Well, I certainly don’t have it!”

  “I was going to ask you if it would be possible for a spirit to make people see things that aren’t there.”

  “I’ve never seen that happen. But it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I suppose I could run it by Walt. But you said, you were going to ask me?”

  “After the lab results came back, I decided it wasn't some illusion. I think there really was a body in the trunk.”

  “Ahh…well a spirit—one who has harnessed energy—could be capable of moving a body. But hiding it? That might be a little more tricky.”

  “That’s what I wondered.” MacDonald leaned back in the swing again and gazed across the street, thinking of Presley House and not the view before him.

  “Any idea who the dead guy might be? If we are talking fresh body fluids I don’t imagine it belongs to the spirit currently haunting the place.”

  “According to the boys it could be either Christiansen or Haston.”

  “Either? Those two look nothing alike.”

  “I know.” MacDonald turned to Danielle. He reached out to pet Max, yet retracted his hand when Max attempted to take a bite out of his finger.

  “Max,” Danielle scolded, running her hand over his head. “That wasn’t nice.”

  “I don’t think he likes me,” MacDonald murmured, looking down at his fingers, grateful they had escaped the cat’s razor sharp teeth.

  “So why do you say it might be either of them?” Danielle asked.

  “According to the boys, the dead man looked like one of the men they saw in the paper—Christiansen and Haston. But they didn’t know which one was which in the photograph.”

  “Couldn’t you just show them the newspaper clipping, and let them point to the one the dead guy looked like?”

  “I would have. Yet at this point there is no body and if I bring the boys in to identify a body we can’t find—well let’s just say, we’ve had more than our share of bad press over the last few months.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know…but still…What now?”

  “I was hoping I might convince you to go over to Presley House with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe you could reason with the spirit, find out where he put the body and why he moved it.”

  “Spirits don’t always do things for a specific reason. Sometimes they just like to mess with us.”

  “Well, this one is messing with me.”

  “I suppose I could try,” Danielle offered.

  Instead of a purr, Max began to growl, his gaze fixed on MacDonald.

  “Is he going to attack me?” MacDonald asked nervously, looking at the angry cat sitting on the lap next to him.

  “Wow, he really does not seem to like you.” Danielle stood up and cradled Max in her arms. “I’ll be right back.”

  MacDonald watched as Danielle took Max to the house and put him inside, closing the door so he couldn't get back out. A moment later, Max appeared at the parlor window. He sat on the windowsill staring out at MacDonald, his tail swishing back and forth.

  “I know where I’ve seen that cat before,” MacDonald said when Danielle returned to the swing.

  “Where?” Danielle glanced briefly to the parlor window and then sat back down next to MacDonald.

  “At least a cat that looks just like him. Black as night with white ears. An unusual combination. And if you say he found you, then it could be that cat.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “A few years back, maybe five or more, one of my neighbors came to me. He was upset about a guy he worked with who was bragging about how he intended to drown a cat when he went fishing that weekend. Apparently, the guy’s young daughter had been encouraging a stray, and when the cat brought her a gift of a dead mouse, she freaked out.”

  “Cats are known for bringing gifts. But drown the poor cat? I loathe people like that.”

  “My neighbor had called animal control but he didn’t think they were going to do anything so he came to me. I stopped by the guy’s house. He was kind of a jerk. Admitted to having the cat, but claimed he was taking it to the shelter.”

  “You rescued Max?” Danielle asked.

  “If it is the same cat, yeah I suppose, in a matter of speaking.” MacDonald shrugged. “I got him to give me the cat.”

  “What did you do with
him?”

  “I turned him over to animal control.”

  “Maybe that’s why he doesn't like you!”

  “If it is the same cat, I seriously doubt he remembers that.”

  “You would be surprised what animals remember. Does this mean they found him a home?”

  “Actually, he was going to be euthanized.”

  “You were going to kill him!” Danielle shrieked. “I don’t blame Max for wanting to bite your finger off!”

  “I wasn’t going to do it!” MacDonald said defensively. “It was animal control. Do you know how many unwanted cats they have down at the shelter?”

  “Killing them is not the answer! Which is one reason I intend to make an appointment to have Max neutered when he gets his shots.”

  “If it is the same cat, he’s already been neutered,” MacDonald said. “I remember them telling me that down at the shelter. So obviously the cat I picked up belonged to someone before he met Victoria.”

  “Victoria?”

  “The jerk’s daughter.”

  “They were going to kill a neutered cat?”

  “Don’t yell at me, I don’t work for animal control.”

  “Obviously they didn't do it, if you think Max might be the same cat. Do you know what happened?”

  “I ran into one of the guys from animal control, asked them if by chance they found the cat a home, and he told me he had escaped.”

  “Escaped?”

  “They suspect some shelter volunteer was responsible for a few of the cats escaping.”

  “It could be the same cat.” Danielle glanced back to the parlor window. Max was still watching them from his perch on the windowsill. “He’s been on his own for a while, living on the street.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Walt told me.”

  “How does Walt know?”

  “Max told him.”

  “Max… never mind… I don’t think I can wrap my brain around much more… talking ghosts… talking cats…”

  “I didn’t say Max talked. Don’t be silly.” Danielle laughed.

  “But you said Max told Walt.”

  “Sure. But it’s more a… a communications exchange. Everyone knows cats can’t talk.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Walt walked into the parlor and found Max sitting at the window, staring outside. “Max? I thought you were with Danielle.”

  Max didn’t acknowledge Walt’s entrance. Instead, his tail continued to swish back and forth, his gold eyes fixed on Danielle and MacDonald.

  Walt walked to the window and looked outside. “Ahh, she’s visiting with the chief. He isn't such a bad guy.”

  Max let out a low growling gurgle.

  Walt cocked a brow and looked down at Max. “So you don’t like the chief?”

  Max continued to growl.

  “What do you mean he wants her to go to Presley House?” Walt frowned. “What exactly do you know about Presley House?”

  “Why are you working on a Sunday, anyway? Don't you ever take time off?” Danielle asked from the passenger seat of the police car. They drove toward Presley House.

  “Actually, I’m leaving on Wednesday. I’ll be gone for a week.”

  “Vacation?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes. I could use some R and R.”

  “But in October? Don’t your kids have school?”

  “The boys aren’t coming. They’re staying with my sister.”

  “Ahh…you’re going away with your lady friend!”

  “Yep.” The chief grinned.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Hawaii.”

  “Hawaii? You rat! You guys didn’t say anything about it at the party!”

  “We’re not really broadcasting this. In fact, I haven’t even said anything to Joe or Brian. Figured it’s no one’s business. They just know I’m taking off for a few days. And this is all pretty new for me…getting serious with someone who isn’t the boys’ mother.”

  “I’m flattered you told me.”

  “I know your secrets; I figure you can keep mine.”

  “Well I won’t tell anyone. I hope you have a wonderful time. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks, Danielle. I’m looking forward to it. Which is why I would love to wrap this up before I take off on Wednesday.”

  “Yeah, I can see where you wouldn’t want to worry about some random body popping up while you’re in Hawaii.”

  “I’m not even going to answer my phone when I’m over there. Unless, of course, it’s my sister.”

  The chief pulled up in front of Presley House and parked. He sat with Danielle in the car and looked up at the weathered Victorian, its windows boarded, save for one lone window on the second floor

  “So what’s the story on Presley House? I asked Walt if he knew anything about it, and he didn’t.”

  “Presley House was built after he died, I think in the early thirties so it doesn’t surprise me that he hadn’t heard about it. From what I understand, the same family has owned it since it was built.”

  “I assume their name was Presley?” Danielle stared at the house.

  “Yes.”

  “Umm… any relation to…”

  “Elvis?” the chief grinned.

  “Yeah. Any relation?”

  “No. I asked that question myself, when I first saw the house.”

  “Drat. I was kinda hoping I’d be meeting Elvis’ ghost today.” Danielle sighed.

  “Sorry kid,” the chief said with a chuckle.

  “So what do you know about its history? When Brian and Joe mentioned it they didn’t seem to know anything about it or who the ghost might be.”

  “I don’t think either one of them considers there is a ghost.”

  “Not even after the magic lamp?”

  “Joe figures there’s a logical explanation for everything.”

  “What about Brian?”

  “I don’t know what Brian thinks these days.”

  “So what do you know?”

  The chief studied the house. His fingertips lightly tapped the steering wheel. “The house was built by the Presley family. I don’t know too much about them, just what Ben, from the museum, once told me. I know they had two teenage boys—twins. The only other thing Ben could really recall about the family was that his father was surprised when they just upped and moved, about a month before the boys graduated from high school. I guess it was all very sudden and unexpected.”

  “Would it have been during the war?”

  “Yeah. I think a couple years before the end of the war. Maybe the sons decided to enlist before graduation. I just know the family moved yet kept the house. It’s been rented out, off and on over the years.”

  “It obviously hasn’t been rented for some time. It’s a shame how run down it is.”

  “Just keeps getting worse and worse with each passing year. They couldn’t keep it rented so they just stopped trying. It hasn’t been rented since I’ve been here.”

  “I’m assuming it has something to do with the ghost?” Danielle asked.

  “I just know that every Halloween people report strange things happening at the house. I don't know the details of those early tenants or why they didn’t stay. I just know the house has been a major pain for me over the years. But until this year, the only thing I ever witnessed was malicious mischief from the local teenagers.”

  “What do you mean until this year?”

  The chief turned to Danielle. “If you would have asked me last month if the house was haunted, I would laugh and say no. Even considering what I’ve learned from you, I never really thought Presley House was haunted. But with that lamp Brian and Joe swear turned on without electricity and the body the boys swear they saw, I’m beginning to wonder.”

  Danielle unbuckled her seatbelt. “Well, should we go in?”

  Danielle and MacDonald stood in the entry hall of Presley House, each holding a flashlight. They had left the front door wide open, to let in the sunli
ght. Yet, even with the door open, it was too dark to see clearly.

  The entry flowed into the living room; its ceiling reached to the ceiling height of the second floor. Random beams of sunlight cut through the space, breaking in from the edges of the windows, those not covered completely with sheets of plywood.

  Danielle looked up, noting the cobwebs and floating dust particles glistening, illuminated by the shafts of light slipping into the house. It smelled dusty, stale. When she had first stepped into Marlow House she had felt an instant harmony—good feng shui some might call it—in spite of the fact it was haunted and had been closed up for decades. She did not experience the same positive sensation with Presley House.

  “This is not a happy place,” Danielle blurted out.

  “Happy? No I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “What I mean… I don’t like it here. It makes me feel… let’s just hurry up and do what we have to do and get out of here.” Danielle felt a chill go up her spine.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah… let’s just do this.” Danielle cleared her throat and called out, “Hello? Is anyone here? We are here to help you.”

  Silence.

  “You want to follow me?” the chief asked as he pointed his flashlight toward the living room.

  “I suppose so…” Danielle wanted to go home.

  “Hello?” Danielle called out again.

  No response.

  MacDonald led her through the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, and small parlor.

  “I know the boys found the body. Why don’t you show us where you put it? You put it somewhere, didn’t you?” she asked the illusive spirit.

  Silence.

  “The basement is down here.” The chief opened the door leading to the basement stairwell.

  “Basement?” Danielle squeaked. I lied to the ghost; I really don’t want to find the body. Reluctantly, she followed MacDonald down the rickety wooden stairs. Once in the basement, they moved the beams of their flashlights over the walls of the small cement room. It was empty.

  “The trunk was here.” MacDonald used the light from his flashlight to show her where the trunk had been. A rectangular shaped stain marred the concrete floor.