Lily made a second call, this one to Adam Nichols. “I’m calling you because I don’t want to upset your grandmother,” Lily explained when Adam answered the phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dani is missing. I need to find out if you or your grandmother happened to see her yesterday afternoon. I don’t want to call and upset Marie.”
“What do you mean missing?”
“Why do people always ask that? What do you think I mean when I say missing?”
“Obviously I don’t know what you mean, or I wouldn't ask.”
“I’m sorry, Adam. It’s just that I’m so frustrated—so scared—I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don't you start at the beginning,” Adam suggested.
Lily told Adam about Danielle’s disappearance, leaving out the part about Walt jumping into her dream.
“I saw her yesterday; she went with me when I picked up my grandmother.”
“I know about that. I saw her when she came back. I was hoping your grandmother might have talked to her again, later in the afternoon.”
“I’ll ask her. What does Ian say?” Adam asked.
“Ian’s in New York on business. He’s in meetings this morning; I didn’t even try calling him. There is nothing he can do from there, and it would only worry him. Didn’t see the point.”
“Understandable. But you need to call the police right away.”
“Will they even do anything? Dani’s an adult and don’t they usually wait a day or more before they start looking for her?”
“Danielle is also a very wealthy woman, one who might be a target for a kidnapper.”
“Oh god! Don’t even say that!” Lily moaned.
“I’m just being realistic, Lily. You need to find out if the Missing Thorndike is still sitting in her safe deposit box. If the bank tells you she removed it yesterday, then Danielle might be in serious danger.”
“I didn’t even think about that damn necklace.”
“I tell you what; I’ll go over to my grandmothers, see if she talked to Danielle yesterday afternoon. I’ll give you a call after I talk to her.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
With trembling fingers, Danielle unbuttoned her blouse and then removed the garment. The room was chilly. She quickly put her jacket back on, covering her bra. She sat on the bottom step of the dimly lit room. Using her molars as a vise, Danielle tugged on the hem of her cotton blouse, tearing it several inches. With her hands, she ripped off a narrow strip of fabric, to be used as a makeshift bandage. She repeated the process several times. A memory of her mother flashed in her mind. Danielle, your teeth are not tools! She imagined her mother would make an exception this one time.
Her right ankle continued to throb. She had discovered applying pressure with her hands did nothing to soothe the injury. If she wanted to get out of here, she needed to first take care of her ankle. She hoped wrapping it tightly might alleviate some of the searing pain. At the very least, she needed to be able to stand on her own two feet without falling over, something she couldn’t yet do.
Harvey had apologized for not warning her about the stairs. It wasn’t exactly a room she had entered, as she had originally assumed, but a dark stairwell leading to a second basement. She had hit her head during the fall down the stairs, knocking her unconscious. For how long exactly, she didn’t know. Danielle had lost all concept of time.
The urge to close her eyes was overwhelming—if she could just take a quick nap. Yet, she knew that was dangerous, especially if the fall had given her a concussion, as she suspected it had. As it was, she felt queasy and nauseous.
Curling up to take a nap on a dusty basement floor—home to all sorts of creepy crawlers—was the last thing Danielle would normally consider. However, the idea appealed to her—she wanted to sleep that much. She had to stay awake.
It had been hours since she had used the bathroom, but wetting herself was simply too humiliating an option to consider. Of course, if she remained locked up in this apparent dungeon she was going to die anyway, so what did it matter?
There was one plus side of having to pee so desperately, it helped to keep her awake. Yet, considering the sharp pain she was now experiencing in her side, from holding it in, she would rather find some other way to stay awake.
If it weren’t for the overhead light fixture that flickered off and on, she would be cloaked in total darkness. Harvey used it as a weapon to control her. Each time she tried to crawl up the stairs, toward the door, he plunged the room into total darkness and threatened to push her down the stairs again.
“I really really need to use the bathroom!” Danielle called out after she finished wrapping her ankle. She sat on the bottom step, one cuff of her jeans rolled up.
The door on the top of the stairwell creaked open. Danielle tried to stand, but instead winced in pain and fell back to the step. She heard something like metal clinking against the wood floor and roll down the stairs toward her. It was an old coffee can. The door slammed shut again. She heard it lock.
Danielle managed to grab the can before it hit her. She looked at it a moment.
“Is this for what I think it’s for?” Danielle asked the empty room.
Ten minutes later, Danielle sat on the step feeling considerably better. While it was not ideal, going in the can was preferable to wetting her pants.
“Harvey, what do you want with me?” She had already asked the question a dozen times before. However, the only time he had said anything, since locking her in the room, was when he apologized for not warning her about the stairs, and when he had threatened to push her down again if she attempted to climb them.
Glancing around the hidden room, its walls made of stone, Danielle thought it looked about the size of a single car garage. Why did they have a hidden room, I wonder…
Suddenly the answer came to her. “Moonshine! I bet Presley was a moonshiner! Walt did say he was something of a lush, and when this house was built, it was during prohibition. The man didn’t have a job, but he apparently had plenty of money!”
“That was just one of his earlier endeavors,” Harvey said as he showed himself. He stood several feet from Danielle. “I was a kid when prohibition ended. Didn’t even know Mr. Presley was once a moonshiner. Not until I was older.”
Danielle tugged the front of her jacket together and looked up at Harvey. “Why am I here?”
“I need you to help me find it.”
“And if we find it—whatever it is—will you let me go?” Danielle quickly zipped up the front of her jacket.
“Of course, I don’t intend to keep you prisoner. I’m not a monster.”
“I’m a prisoner now,” Danielle reminded.
Harvey shrugged. “It can’t be helped. I only have a little time left, and then I have to go back.”
“Go back where?”
“To the cemetery, of course.”
“You haunt the cemetery?” Danielle silently reminded herself that if she ever got out of Presley House she needed to find out where Harvey was buried and then avoid that section of the cemetery.
“I wouldn't say haunt exactly. I’m hoping that once this is resolved I’ll feel comfortable enough to move on.”
“Let me see if I understand what you’re saying—you have some unresolved issues that are preventing you from moving on. They have something to do with this thing you need to find, which I assume is somewhere in Presley House. And you can only look for this thing around Halloween.”
“It’s the only time I can leave the cemetery.”
“Why is it you can only come to Presley House around Halloween? Is it because you were killed around Halloween or is it because Halloween is a time spirits can move around more freely—if one is to believe those old stories.”
Harvey stared at Danielle for a moment before answering. Finally, his mouth curled into a smile. “You certainly ask a lot of questions.”
“If you want me to help you, then I would think you’d be willing to
answer my questions.”
“And if you want to get out of here alive, I would think you’d be willing to help me.”
Renewed fear washed over Danielle. “Does this mean you would leave me here to die if I can’t or won’t help you?”
Harvey shrugged. “I’m dead. You’ll be dead someday too. Does it really matter if it’s now or in fifty years from now?”
“Well yeah, it sorta does matter!”
Harvey cocked his head to one side, a quizzical expression on his face. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m young, I’m just thirty, I have a lot I still want to do in this life.”
“You’ve already lived almost twice as long as I did.”
Danielle closed her eyes for a moment and told herself to calm down, give Harvey want he wanted so she could get out of this horrid place. She opened her eyes again and looked at Harvey. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”
Harvey smiled. “I need you to help me find two things. And then I need you to take them to…” Harvey’s smile faded. “I’m not sure where.”
“Umm…what do you mean you aren’t sure where? How am I supposed to take them someplace if you don’t know where that someplace is?”
“I suppose you’ll have to figure that out, won’t you?”
Danielle silently cursed herself for forgetting her cellphone. At the very least, she could have text messaged someone for help. But she didn't have her cellphone with her. She was stuck in a hidden basement with an irrational teenage ghost who insisted on getting his own way.
“Why don’t you start by telling me what you’re looking for. Then I can figure out where I need to take it,” Danielle suggested.
“I suppose the most important thing is Bruce’s journal.” Harvey sat down on the floor and faced Danielle, who remained on the bottom step.
“Bruce? You mean one of the twins?” If Danielle wasn’t mistaken, Bruce Presley was the twin who had committed suicide.
“Yes. Bruce wrote it all down. He didn’t want to at first. It took me a couple Halloweens to convince him.”
“Halloweens…when you say convince him…do you mean after you died?”
“Of course. If I had still been alive there would have been nothing to write down.”
“I understand the family moved when the twins were still in high school. Maybe Bruce took the journal with him. Maybe that’s why you can’t find it.”
Harvey abruptly stood up. He looked down at Danielle and shook his head. “No, he hid it here with the other thing. He owed me that.”
“Why are you so certain he hid the journal here?”
“Because I watched him hide it!”
“If you watched him hide it, then you know where it is. Where is it?”
“If I knew that, would I need to be talking to you about this now?” Harvey shouted in frustration. “Would I keep returning to Presley House year after year?”
“You just said you watched him hide it.”
“That was a long time ago. Don’t you ever forget things?”
“You forgot where he put it?”
“It isn’t like it was just yesterday. It has been an awful long time.”
“All right… so we are looking for a journal … a book. You mentioned something else you’re looking for. What’s that?” Danielle asked.
“It will be with the journal. When you find the journal you’ll find it.”
“What is this other thing?” Danielle asked.
“It proves what Bruce writes in the journal.”
“Which is?”
“You’ll have to find the journal to figure that out.”
“At least tell me what this other thing is so I’ll know what I’m looking for.”
“I told you, it will be with the journal, if you find one, you’ll find the other.”
“What happens if they aren’t together? Maybe one got moved over the years.”
“I can’t imagine that happened, but if it did, you’ll know when you find it. It will be obvious.”
Danielle groaned. “How am I supposed to know what I’m looking for if I have no idea what it is? If this thing—whatever it is—is not with the journal how will I know if I find it? For all I know, it’s that coffee can you tossed at me.”
Harvey frowned and looked over at the coffee can shoved in the corner. “Why would I be looking for a can filled with pee?”
“That wasn’t my point!”
“All you really need to know—it’s something of value. When you find it you’ll know. It will be obvious.”
“What’s the point in not telling me?”
Harvey smiled. “I have to have some fun.” In the next moment, he vanished.
Danielle surveyed the small room. “Well, if I want to get out of here, I guess I better start looking. And since he has me locked up in this room, I have to assume he wants me to start looking down here.”
Danielle glanced up the stairs, expecting some response from Harvey. Nothing.
“If he wants me to look for the missing journal,” Danielle said in a loud clear voice, “it would help if he gave me more light.” Overhead the lights flickered and went brighter.
“Thanks,” Danielle grumbled.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lily waited anxiously for Adam’s phone call. When it did come, it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“That was Adam,” Lily told Walt after she ended the call. She assumed Walt was still in the room with her. “Marie didn’t talk to Dani yesterday afternoon. Adam felt he had to tell his grandmother Dani is missing. Figured once we call the police they might question her. He wanted her to know what was going on. I suppose that’s for the best.”
Lily stood up, walked to the window, and looked outside. “I need to go down to the police station and file a missing person’s report. Hopefully they’ll take one. I’m not sure how much good it will do right now. From what I understand, when an adult goes missing they wait so many hours before they do anything.”
Turning from the window, Lily looked to where she believed Walt sat. “I just realized, wherever Dani is…considering how long she’s been gone…there must be some time she’s sleeping. Maybe you could dream hop, find out what’s going on.”
“Where ever she is, she isn't sleeping,” Walt responded, even though he knew Lily couldn’t hear him. “I’ve tried off an on since last night. I tried with Isabella too. But Isabella… Isabella could no longer dream.”
Less than thirty minutes later, Lily stood in the front office of the Frederickport Police Department. She didn’t recognize the young woman behind the counter; she had never seen her before. Lily suspected she was new. Considering the plunging neckline of the blonde’s tight sweater, Lily also suspected the woman had skipped over the section on appropriate dress in the Frederickport Police Department’s Employee Handbook.
“I’m sorry, Chief MacDonald is on vacation,” the unsmiling woman told her.
“Crap, I knew that. I forgot,” Lily mumbled. “Who’s covering for him?”
“I’m sure one of the other officers can help you. Do you really need to speak to the police chief?” the woman asked. “Are you asking for some sort of donation or something?”
“No, I’m not asking for some sort of donation or something!” Lily snapped. “I’d like to see whoever is covering for Chief MacDonald.”
“I’m not sure he’s available right now. But if you tell me what this is about, then I can direct you to the appropriate officer.”
Narrowing her eyes, Lily glared at the woman. “Just get me whoever is covering for MacDonald. I don’t have time for this.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. If you can’t tell me what this is about, how do you expect me to help you?”
“I expect you to get me whoever is covering for the chief!” Lily shouted.
“And I am going to have you escorted out of my office!” the woman shouted back.
“This is not your office!” Lily shouted even louder. “It is our
police department!”
“What is going on out here?” Joe Morelli asked when he stepped out into the front office.
“This woman needs to be escorted out of here!” the blonde said, visibly shaking.
Curious, Joe glanced from the blonde to Lily. “Lily? What’s this about?”
The blonde’s eyes widened. She looked from Lily to Joe.
“I need to speak to whoever is covering for MacDonald,” Lily explained.
“That’s me. What’s the problem?”
Lily flashed a dirty look to the blonde behind the counter and then looked back to Joe. “I should have just asked for you in the first place.”
The blonde finally found her voice. “This woman demanded to see Chief MacDonald, and when I explained he was on vacation she became totally unreasonable!”
“I simply asked to see whoever was covering for the chief.”
“But you—” the blonde began, only to be cut off by Joe.
“Marsha, I’m sure this was just some misunderstanding.” Joe turned his attention to Lily. “Come with me to my office, you can tell me what this is all about there.”
Lily could feel the blonde’s angry glare on her back as she followed Joe. When they reached Joe’s office he motioned to a chair facing his desk. Just as he sat down behind his desk, Lily blurted out, “Dani is missing.”
“Are you saying she took off without telling you where she was going?”
“No. I’m saying she’s missing. Yesterday I borrowed her car to go to Astoria. She told me she might visit a neighbor and take a walk on the beach. But she didn't have a car—I had it—so she really couldn’t go anywhere. When I came home, she wasn't there. I haven't seen her since I left for Astoria.”
“I assume you've tried calling her.”
“I tried when I was in Astoria and running late. But she didn’t answer. After I got home, I found her phone in the bathroom.”
“What about her purse?”
“It’s still sitting on her dresser. But Dani doesn’t always take her purse with her, unless she’s driving and needs her license. She usually carries her cellphone in her back pocket.”
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