When Max had decided to look for Danielle, he had headed in the direction he had last seen her go. While his sense of smell was not as keen as Sadie’s, he still managed to pick up Danielle’s unique scent. It led him away from the beach, in the direction of Presley House.
According to Walt, she intended to go to the beach after visiting the neighbor—the neighbor with the annoying kitten. He hadn't actually met the kitten; however, he had already decided to loathe the patchy fuzz ball. It was a matter of principle. Max disliked cats. Just because he happened to be one, didn't mean he had to associate with other felines.
Danielle’s scent had led him back to Presley House—not somewhere he particularly wanted to go. Twitching his whiskers, Max stood up, his black and white ears peeking out over the top of the weeds. He crept stealthily toward the dilapidated house, heading for a boarded up window where he knew there was a sufficient gap between the window frame and plywood to squeeze inside.
Once Max entered Presley House, his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark interior. Keeping low and out of sight, he stayed close to the furniture, using the upholstery as camouflage to avoid detection. Just as he rounded the sofa, his fur bristled when he heard Harvey.
“I don’t think Danielle appreciated my gratitude for her silence when that cop was here.”
Without hesitation, Max dived into a worn spot in the back of the sofa, where the upholstery had long since torn, providing a snug hidey-hole. Max’s golden eyes peeked out from the back of the sofa. He could see Harvey near the doorway leading to the hallway, talking to himself.
“Now she wants water. Acts like she is going to die.” Harvey started pacing the room. “Doesn’t she know if I give her water she’ll just fill up that coffee can? And where does she expect me to get water? I swear, she’s demanding!”
Yellow-orange flickering Jack-O-Lantern eyes followed Lily down the street, from their perches atop porches, railings, and windowsills. Their crooked grins and scowls reminded Lily Halloween was just a day away. She and Danielle had looked forward to showing Walt what a twenty-first century Halloween looked like—an evening of costumed children trick-or-treating for handfuls of candy while adults enjoyed wine and warm cider with friends. In Walt’s day, Halloween was nothing more than an excuse for malicious mischief.
Lily was no longer looking forward to Halloween. Her enthusiasm had begun to fizzle when Ian was called away to New York. Now with Danielle missing, Halloween was the last thing on her mind.
She had been driving the streets of Frederickport for hours, stopping at any restaurant and business Danielle had ever frequented. Yet, no one had seen Danielle since she had gone missing. As Lily headed home, she glanced down at the gas gauge. It was telling her she needed to fill up. Exhausted, Lily decided to get gas in the morning.
It was dark when Lily finally pulled into the drive at Marlow House. She was just getting out of the car when she heard someone shouting at her from the street. Turning from the vehicle toward the front of the property, Lily spied Heather Donovan making her way through the side gate, hurrying in Lily’s direction.
“Hello!” Heather cried out, walking faster.
Lily pressed the keychain remote, locking the Ford Flex, while waiting for Heather to reach her.
“Evening,” Lily greeted, her voice weary.
“I noticed your car drive by, and I wanted to check and make sure Danielle got home all right.”
Lily shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been out all afternoon looking for her.”
Heather glanced up at the house and smiled. “Maybe she’s home!”
“No. I left her cellphone on the kitchen table with a note, telling her to call me the minute she came in, just in case she came back while I was driving around.”
“Oh my.” Heather looked back to the house again. “Let’s go check, just to make sure.”
Lily shrugged and then turned to the house, walking to the side door, with Heather trailing behind. Once they got into the kitchen, they heard Sadie charging down the stairs from the attic, toward the kitchen. Both women spied the cellphone and note still sitting on the table.
Lily tossed her purse and keys on the counter just as Sadie burst into the room, tail wagging. Kneeling down by the excited golden retriever, Lily gave her a hug and whispered by her floppy ear, “Have you been keeping Walt company? I bet he’s worried sick.”
“What are the police doing?” Heather asked when Lily stood back up and walked to the table. The two women sat down, facing each other.
“They don’t seem overly concerned. I know Danielle didn’t come back last night, but Joe’s convinced Danielle was here and just left this morning.”
“Joe?” Heather frowned.
“Sargent Joe Morelli. He’s sort of in charge while Police Chief MacDonald is on vacation.”
“Hopefully they’ll be more receptive to helping look for her in the morning. From what I understand they normally do nothing for a missing person until after twenty-four hours, unless it’s a kid.”
“Hopefully Danielle will show up before then,” Lily countered.
“Of course.” Heather smiled and leaned forward, briefly patting Lily’s hand. After a moment she asked, “Where is your friend, Jon Altar? I would imagine he’d have the clout to get people to take her disappearance seriously.”
“You mean Ian—Jon Altar is just his pen name. He’s in New York on business right now. I haven’t even told him she's missing yet.”
“Why not? I was under the impression they’re good friends.”
“They are. But there really is nothing Ian can do from New York, aside from worry.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Heather sighed and then looked Lily in the eyes. “Now tell me, how can I help?”
“I wish I could think of something. But I’m stumped.”
“I keep thinking maybe she just needed to get away, after all she has had a traumatic week. Her finding that body at Presley house, and then I heard about you two finding that car that had gone over the cliff at Pilgrim’s Point.”
“Yes, but she would never just take off like that, without telling me.”
“I heard them talking about her on the radio, how she found the body at Presley House. Speculating what had moved the body.”
Lily looked curiously at Heather. “What, not who?”
“Well…” Heather lowered her voice to a whisper. “They do say that house is haunted.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
Heather shrugged. “I believe in the possibility.”
Lily smiled. “Me too. My mother claimed to have seen my grandmother after she died.” Lily thought it best not to mention Walt.
“If my mother had ever seen a ghost, she would never have admitted it.”
“Why is that?” Lily asked.
“I suppose because my father believed it was a sign of mental illness. That only crazy people believe they can see ghosts.”
“My mom can be a little goofy sometimes, but I don’t think she’s crazy.”
“Oh, I’m not saying she is.” Heather blushed. “I didn’t mean to give that impression.”
Lily smiled. “You didn’t.”
“The thing is—my parents knew someone once who was—well—crazy. Pretty much certifiable, I suppose. Died in a mental institution. He claimed he could see ghosts. Although, I’m not sure if it was ghosts exactly—just one ghost.”
“Was that why he was in the mental institution? Because he claimed to see a ghost?” Lily couldn’t help but think of Danielle. Her parents had sent her to a psychologist after she had claimed to see ghosts.
“Partly. Although I suspect had he not been acting erratically—putting himself in danger—he wouldn’t have been institutionalized. People are free to enjoy all sorts of delusions, as long as they don’t become a physical threat to anyone.”
“True.”
“But unlike my father, who insisted his claim to seeing ghosts was a symptom of his neurosis, I believe the
ghost may have been the cause of his insanity.”
“Are you saying seeing a ghost made him snap?” Lily asked.
“Yes. At least that’s what I hope.”
Lily frowned. “Hope? I don’t understand.”
“I prefer to believe he didn’t have some mental illness—that something drove him to his insanity.”
“Why is that?”
“Because if something didn’t drive him to his insanity, it could mean his mental illness was a hereditary condition… and he was my grandfather.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.” Lily wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Is he still alive?”
“No. He died a while back.”
Lily and Heather chatted for another thirty minutes, and while Lily appreciated the distraction, she knew the visit wasn’t helping get Danielle home. She wanted to talk to Walt about their next plan of action, and the only way to do that was to go to bed. If she would be able to fall asleep was another matter all together.
By the time Lily finally managed to hustle Heather out the door and home, she could smell cigar smoke. Walt was in the kitchen.
“Walt, I looked everywhere for Danielle, no one has seen her. Has Max come home yet? I haven’t seen him.” Lily watched as the peppershaker rose slightly from the table and then fell back down.
In the next moment the doorbell ran. Lily stood up. “Maybe that’s news about Danielle.”
When Lily opened the front door a minute later she found Sargent Joe Morelli standing on her front porch. Dressed in his uniform, he held his baseball cap in hand.
“Joe, any news?” Lily asked anxiously.
“I guess this means she isn’t home?” Joe asked.
Lily sighed and shook her head. “No, nothing.” Opening the door wider, she silently invited Joe inside. After he entered, she shut the door.
“I really thought she’d show up by now,” Joe said. “This isn’t like her.”
“No, it’s not. I’m worried sick.”
Joe fiddled with his hat. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you more seriously this morning.”
“It’s just that I know Dani would never take off without leaving a note or something. And considering I had her car…and she left her phone behind… I just figure something has to be wrong. But I do appreciate Brian checking out Presley House for me. I assume he told you.”
Joe slipped his hat on his head and looked at Lily, a grave expression on his face. “Yes, he did. I think it’s time you file that missing person report.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Resting her forehead in the palm of her hand, Danielle closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she had been locked up in the hidden basement. Hunger pangs sent her stomach growling and she would kill for a glass of water. No longer worried about staying awake because of a possible concussion, Danielle now believed sleeping was her one hope in being rescued. Once she was asleep, Walt might visit her dreams, and then she could tell him what had happened to her. The only problem would be getting that information to Lily, which would be tricky but not impossible.
“You might as well go to sleep,” Harvey announced as he appeared before her a moment later; the lights overhead flickering on.
Danielle looked up at Harvey from where she sat on the bottom step. “Please let me go.”
“Not until we find it. Take a nap. You look awful.” Harvey disappeared.
Despair washed over Danielle as she curled up on the floor, using her arms as a pillow. “Save me Walt…” she whispered as she nodded off to sleep.
Her eyes did not want to open, their lids felt heavier than normal. With great effort, she managed to open them, despite their reluctance. Glancing around the dingy basement, disappointment swept over her. Danielle was so tired, and yet it was impossible to sleep, and she was still trapped in this horrid room.
“I was wondering when you’d join me,” Harvey said.
Lifting her head, Danielle turned to the right and found Harvey sitting next to her on the steps.
“Was I sleeping?” Danielle asked. “How long was I asleep?”
“Do I look like I have a clock?”
The basement door rattled and then opened abruptly, flooding the room with a stream of light. Unable to contain herself, Danielle jumped to her feet, failing to notice her ankle no longer throbbed when she stood on it. “Help! I’m down here!”
Harvey chuckled at her outburst. Danielle heard the sound of footsteps clomping down the stairs toward her.
Prepared to rush toward whoever had entered the attic, Danielle froze when three teenage boys neared the bottom steps. They’re gazes looked past her—as if she was invisible. Yet, that is not what gave her pause—it was the fact that two of the boys appeared to be identical twins and the third—the third was Harvey.
Confused, Danielle looked from the Harvey walking down the stairs toward her, to the spirit still sitting on the bottom step.
“They can’t see you or hear you,” Harvey explained.
“Is this a dream?” Danielle asked, her excitement deflated.
“A dream of sorts. Revisiting the past you might say.” Harvey the spirit vanished.
By reflex, Danielle quickly stepped back, out of the way of the three boys who looked as if they were about to walk through her.
“I thought you were just flapping your lips,” the Harvey coming down the stairs said.
“We told you there was a secret room!” one of the twins said with a laugh. “But we have to hurry or Dad will flip his wig if he catches us down here.”
Danielle glanced from the boys, who had just reached the bottom of the stairs, to the middle of the basement. It was no longer empty. A desk and chair set in the middle of the room, along with a file cabinet and a stack of boxes. By its appearance, it looked as if someone had set the secret basement up as an office.
“Ahh, Bruce, Dad won’t be back for a couple hours,” the other twin said. “He’ll never know we were down here.”
Danielle looked from one twin to the other. If that one is Bruce—then the other must be Barney.
“Pay up Harvey, we told you our house had a secret room,” Barney said.
Harvey dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out some money. He handed it to Barney who then gave a portion to Bruce.
“What does he do down here?” Harvey asked, glancing around the room.
“Says he uses it to store stuff,” Barney said with a shrug.
“You really didn't know it was here?” Harvey asked.
“You’re always over here, you never saw it before,” Bruce challenged.
“No—you’re right. This is swell, a secret room. Too bad we can’t use it for a secret club or something.” Harvey wandered over to the desk and started opening the drawers.
“I don’t think you should be doing that,” Barney said nervously.
“Why? I paid my money?” Harvey opened another drawer. Whatever was in the drawer gave him pause. “Applesauce! Get a load of this!”
Barney and Bruce rushed to his side and looked in the drawer.
“I don’t think we should be going through the desk,” Bruce said.
“Are these what I think they are?” Harvey reached into the drawer.
“What are you doing?” a male voice boomed.
Danielle had not noticed a man had come into the basement—and neither had the boys. She turned to face the newcomer. A much older version of the twins stood at the foot of the stairs, she guessed he was their father.
Angry, the man stormed toward the desk and pushed his sons aside. The twins cowered while Harvey stood frozen at the desk his hand still in the drawer.
“What are you doing in my things?” Mr. Presley growled.
“I know what these are.” Harvey said. Unlike his friends, he did not cower.
“Put them down and close the drawer,” Mr. Presley ordered.
“Did you steal them?” Harvey asked. “Is that why you have them hidden down here?”
“I said shut the drawer!” Mr.
Presley shouted.
Harvey dropped whatever he was holding and looked at Mr. Presley. A small smile flickered on the boy’s lips.
“I was so foolish,” Harvey the spirit said when he appeared next to Danielle.
Danielle glanced from the spirit to the teenager standing at the desk. Time it seemed, had frozen. Mr. Presley and Harvey were locked in a silent stare down while Danielle and Harvey the spirit observed.
“How so?” Danielle asked.
“You’ll see. He knew what I was thinking.”
“What were you thinking?” Danielle asked.
“About getting a share of the action.”
Before Danielle could ask another question, Mr. Presley lunged toward Harvey the boy, while grabbing a bronze figurine off the desk. Without pause, he slammed the heavy object against Harvey’s forehead, sending the teenager crashing to the floor. Danielle let out a startled gasp, horrified at the scene unfolding before her.
Neither twin made an attempt to stop their father, as he repeatedly slammed the unconscious boy’s head—over and over again.
Breathing heavily, Mr. Presley tossed the bloodied object aside and looked up at his sons. “This is your fault. You’re going to help me get rid of his body, and if you say anything, I’ll make sure you join him.”
The next moment, Danielle was no longer in the basement but sitting on the beach with Harvey. It was night and overhead a half moon lit the dark sky.
“Where are we?” Danielle asked.
“We’re watching them dump my body.” Harvey pointed down the beach where three shadowy figures lugged something toward the incoming waves.
“What was in the drawer?” Danielle asked.
“Obviously something Mr. Presley stole. I thought you would have figured that out.”
Ghost of Halloween Past Page 23