Ghost of Halloween Past

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Ghost of Halloween Past Page 26

by McIntyre, Anna J


  Upstairs, the candle shifted and slipped, falling from the makeshift holder. Still lit, it rolled off the dresser, fell onto the floor, and rolled toward the bed. Its flame flickered and flared, teasing the hem of the tattered bedspread.

  “Don’t you ever answer your cellphone?” Adam Nichols asked Joe Morelli when he found him sitting in the diner drinking a cup of coffee with Brian Henderson.

  Joe looked up from his coffee. “Sorry Adam, it has been a crazy night. Unless the call comes from the station, I’m not answering it.”

  “Not so busy you couldn’t stop for a donut break,” Adam snapped.

  Unamused, Brian glared up from his coffee. “Cool it with the donut jokes. We’re entitled to a cup of coffee, like Joe said, it’s been a hell of an evening.”

  Hands on hips, Adam looked down at the officers. “Well my grandmother is about to have a stroke, worrying about Danielle.”

  Joe set his mug on the table and looked up at Adam. “We’re worried about her too and we’re doing everything we can to find her.”

  “And what about Lily?” Adam asked.

  “I told Lily we were checking out some leads. Like I said, we are doing everything we can.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Adam looked from Joe to Brian and back to Joe. “Did you get my grandmother’s message?”

  “Your grandmother’s message? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “She spoke to that new girl you have working in the front office,” Adam explained. “A Marcia somebody. It was around lunchtime. She promised my grandmother she’d give you her message.”

  Joe shrugged. “Marcia left a note on my desk around that time but I was under the impression it was from Lily, not your grandmother.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Lily has it in her head Danielle is at Presley House, but we’ve already been over there. It was just another message asking me to check the house again.”

  “That note was from my grandmother. Lily is missing.”

  Brian set his mug on the table and looked up at Adam. “What do you mean missing?”

  “Lily called my grandmother this morning and told her she was going over to Presley House. She was convinced Danielle was trapped there in some secret room. Told Grandma if she didn’t call her by noon, that she was to call you and have you go over to Presley House and help her. When Lily didn’t call my grandmother back, Grandma called the police station, talked to Marcia. Grandma has been waiting all afternoon to hear something; she finally called me. I just went over to Marlow House, no one is there, but I found Ian’s golden retriever sitting on the front porch. The back gate was shut but not locked. I went ahead and put the dog in the side yard. I then drove over to Presley House, but didn’t see Danielle’s car. But I did find it about two blocks away, parked. No Lily in sight.”

  Brian slammed his fist on the table. “What the hell is going on around here? Women just up and disappearing?”

  Chapter Forty

  A quarter moon lit Halloween’s night sky. Trick-or-treaters raced by Heather, their focus on the prize of more candy. They paid little attention to the woman dressed in black, walking alone down the street towards Presley House. Those who did look assumed she wore a witch’s costume, considering the long skirt and cape. Yet, there was no witch’s hat, just her dark hair pulled into two low pigtails.

  Heather clutched a flashlight in one hand and a key in the other. She had heard the police had called a locksmith, yet she didn’t know if that meant her key would no longer work. Had they changed the locks? If the key didn’t work, she would need to find some other way into the house.

  When she reached the sidewalk in front of Presley House, she paused a moment and looked up at the dilapidated Victorian. She told herself, if one looked up haunted house in the dictionary, they would probably see a picture of Presley House. Making her way past the gate, she walked up the stone pathway leading to the entry.

  Stepping up onto the front porch, she directed the beam of her flashlight at the front door. It was ajar. There would be no need for the key. She wondered if someone was inside. Tucking the key into the pocket of her skirt, she approached the front door and peeked inside.

  Hesitantly, she entered the dark house while directing the beam of her flashlight over its walls. Walking to the center of the living room, she looked around.

  “Harvey?” she called out. “If you are here, please make yourself known!”

  A knocking came from the direction of the hallway.

  “Is that you Harvey?”

  The knocking continued.

  “I am the granddaughter of Barney Presley. He was my mother’s father. I know what they did to you—to your uncle. I know what my great-grandfather did. I know why you haunt this place. I’ve come to tell the truth.”

  The overhead lights flickered on and the knocking continued.

  “I’ve read the journal written by my grandfather’s brother. I have it.”

  The overhead lights flickered off, and in the next instant, Harvey showed himself to Heather. He stood just six feet from her in the living room, standing in the beam of her flashlight.

  Heather let out a gasp of surprise yet did not waver. She continued to stand in the center of the living room, her light on Harvey.

  “It’s really you,” she said in a whisper.

  “Where is the journal?” he asked.

  “I have it at my house. I plan to make it public, to tell the world about the injustice that was done to you. To your uncle.”

  “Why would you do that?” he asked.

  “Because that’s what my grandfather wanted. That’s what he needs for his soul to be at peace.”

  It sounded like an explosion coming from upstairs. Both Heather and Harvey looked up to the second floor landing. Erratic flames danced and flickered, making their way down the hallway, touching the ceiling and clinging to the walls.

  “The house is on fire!” Heather shouted, quickly turning from Harvey, preparing to run outside.

  “Wait!” Harvey shouted.

  Heather looked back at the spirit. “I promise I’ll do what I say. I just wanted you to know. But I have to get out of here!”

  “It’s not that! They’re trapped in the basement! I can’t open the door—I’ve used all my power showing myself to you!”

  “What are you talking about?” Heather looked up nervously to the growing fire.

  “Danielle and her friend Lily, I have them locked in the secret room. You need to get them out! Follow me, quick!” Harvey turned and headed for the hallway.

  Millie had called the fire department, and Joe and Brian could hear the sirens as they turned up the street. By the time they reached Presley House, the entire roof was ablaze and sections of the house were beginning to fall in on itself. Trick-or-treaters and their parents gathered across the street, watching the fire. Joe parked the car a safe distance from Presley House, and he and Brian quickly got out of the car and directed the growing crowd back, away from the fire.

  Just as the firetruck came roaring down the street in their direction, Joe and Brian turned to Presley House and were horrified to see three figures emerging from the blaze. They weren’t running to safety but slowly and methodically struggling toward the street—Danielle on her injured ankle, while Lily held her right arm and Heather her left.

  Without hesitation, Joe and Brian raced toward the fire. Timbers from the front porch roof crashed behind the three women, flying embers just missing them. When Joe reached the threesome, he quickly scooped Danielle up in his arms, carrying her to safety, while Brian hurriedly ushered Heather and Lily away from the blaze.

  Exhausted and emotionally drained, Danielle lay back in the hospital bed and stared at her IV. Taking a deep breath, she smiled. While she would rather be home in her own bed, she was happy to be anywhere other than Presley House.

  “How are you feeling?” Lily asked when she entered the hospital room with Heather at her side. The two women ap
proached the bed.

  “Much better. They say they want to keep me over for observation for a couple days.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” Lily reached out and gave Danielle’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

  Danielle looked from Lily to Heather. “Thanks again, both of you, for getting me out of there.”

  “I’m just really sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Heather apologized. “I never even considered you might be trapped in the secret room.”

  “Hello,” came a male voice from the doorway.

  The three women looked in the direction of the greeting. They watched as Joe and Brian entered the room.

  “I understand they’re keeping you over for observation,” Joe said as he approached the bed with Brian.

  “That’s what they tell me.” Danielle forced a smile.

  “We were hoping you would be up to a few questions,” Joe said.

  “Sure. Now that I have something to drink I feel pretty terrific,” Danielle lied. “I suppose you want to know why I was there.”

  Joe nodded. “For starters.”

  “I kept wondering where someone might have hidden Bart’s body. Before the chief left for vacation, we discussed the possibility of a secret room.”

  Joe frowned. “You and the chief talked about that?”

  “Yes. You can ask him about it when he comes home. Anyway, I went over there to snoop around, found the secret room, fell down the stairs, and got myself trapped. Lily came looking for me, and unfortunately, the door to the secret room locked on her. If it wasn’t for Heather, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  Lily looked from Danielle to the officers. “I’d like to know how that fire started.”

  “I think we have the answer to that,” Brian said. “Some local teenagers showed up after you left. They were frantic that their friend was inside. Seems they had left him there to spend the night.”

  “Oh my god, is he okay?” Heather gasped.

  Brian nodded his head. “Yes, we found him safe and sound at his house. He claims he saw some furniture floating around, ran out in a panic. Admitted to leaving a candle burning upstairs.”

  “At least no one was hurt,” Lily said.

  “While I don’t foresee charges being brought against any of you for breaking into the house, I don’t know how the owners of Presley House are going to feel—and what pressure they might apply to the DA. Considering Danielle’s financial situation, they might decide to bring civil charges,” Joe explained.

  Heather spoke up, “I don’t think that is going to happen.”

  Joe and Brian turned to Heather.

  Putting out her hand to Joe she said, “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Heather Donovan and the owner of Presley House. My grandfather was Barney Presley; his father was the original owner.”

  Taken aback by the announcement, Joe silently shook Heather’s hand. When Brian took his turn he said, “I hate to be the one to tell you this Ms. Donovan, but the house is gone. They weren’t able to save anything.”

  “I’m not surprised. When we left in the police car, I didn’t see how they could possibly save it,” Heather said.

  Lily silently watched Danielle, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and her forced smile.

  “I think we need to let Dani get some rest,” Lily spoke up. “Joe, you and Brian can ask the rest of your questions tomorrow.”

  After Joe and Brian left five minutes later, Danielle looked up at Heather, her eyes weary. “You really saw Harvey?”

  “Yes. Until I actually saw him standing there in Presley House, I wasn’t sure he was real—or if my poor grandfather had simply been delusional all these years.”

  “I wonder what Harvey is going to do now?” Danielle asked. “If the journal he was looking for was in the house, it’s gone now.”

  “I have the journal,” Heather said.

  “You do?” Lily and Danielle chorused.

  Heather nodded. “Seeing their father brutally kill their best friend—being forced to get rid of the body and then to kill Harvey’s uncle, was too much for my grandfather and his brother. My grandfather’s brother ended up killing himself. After that, my grandfather would have nothing to do with his parents. He had the journal his brother had written. They both had seen Harvey.”

  “Did he ever consider going to the police?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t think so. But the guilt weighed on him. After his parents died, and he inherited their estate, he seemed to snap. He started telling everyone about the ghost. Of course, no one would listen to him. He threatened to kill himself, which is why he was committed. It was right after I was born.”

  “Why did your family keep Presley House all these years?” Danielle asked.

  “It belonged to my grandfather, he was adamant about not selling it. I remember once my father convinced him to rent it out as a vacation property, and at the last minute, my grandfather changed his mind. Mother had her father’s power of attorney and could have gone ahead and rented it out anyway, but she would never force him to do something. As it was, she felt guilty enough about having him institutionalized.”

  “Did you visit your grandfather?” Danielle asked.

  “Not until after my father died. He was adamant about keeping me away from him. Dad was convinced his father-in-law was simply a nutcase. But my mother, she loved her father in spite of everything.”

  “Where did you find the journal?” Danielle asked. “Harvey has been looking for it for decades.”

  “I found it in a trunk in my mother’s attic, after she died. My grandfather had told me about the journal, about how he needed to make it public and set things straight with Harvey or he would go to hell. I doubt my mother ever looked in that trunk after they moved it from her father’s house.”

  “Harvey wasn’t just looking for a journal. There was something else he was also looking for,” Danielle said.

  “What do you mean?” Heather asked.

  “According to Harvey, he wasn’t just looking for your great-uncle’s journal. He was looking for something that would support his claim. He wouldn’t say what that was, just that it was something of value and that when I found it, I would know.”

  “I’m sure it’s lost in the fire now,” Lily said.

  “No it wasn’t.” Heather opened her purse and pulled out a leather pouch. “When the police dropped me off at my house I had something else I needed to get besides my car…this.” Heather handed the pouch to Danielle.

  “What is it?” Danielle opened the small leather pouch and peeked inside.

  “It belongs to you now,” Heather explained.

  Danielle reached into the pouch and pulled out an emerald—its cut and size was identical to the emeralds in the Missing Thorndike. She looked up to Heather and frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “My great-grandfather worked for the Thorndikes. He conspired with Eva Thorndike’s husband to steal the necklace. Apparently, they removed the stones and replaced them with fakes. Harvey discovered my grandfather’s share of the stones in the secret room. By this time Eva had died and the necklace had disappeared.”

  “Harvey recognized the stones,” Danielle murmured.

  “Yes, that’s what it says in the journal. My grandfather and his brother stole this emerald from their father before they moved from Frederickport. They were going to use it against him. Of course, they never came forward. I found the emerald with the journal, which is why I am pretty sure my parents never looked through that trunk.”

  “Why do you say it’s mine now?” Danielle tucked the stone back in the pouch and handed it back to Heather.

  “The Missing Thorndike legally belongs to you. I would assume any gems stolen from the necklace would also belong to you. If I’m to set this thing right, the emerald must go back to its rightful owner.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  She heard waves crashing along the shore and felt their spray’s mist tickling her bare feet. Opening her eyes, Danielle found herself
lying on a blanket spread over the warm sand. Overhead the sun was shining—much warmer than normal for October along the Oregon coast. She sat up and stretched lazily. It was then she noticed Walt sitting on his half of the blanket, silently watching her. He wore white linen slacks and a pale blue, button down shirt, the first three buttons undone. His feet, like hers, were bare.

  Curious as to her own attire, she glanced down and saw that she wore a long pale blue cotton dress—its shade matched Walt’s shirt. Running her hand over the fabric, it felt soft and gently wrinkled. Smiling, she thought how feminine she felt when Walt dressed her for a dream.

  “What made you smile,” Walt asked softly.

  “Just how you dress me.” Danielle grinned.

  “Dress you?”

  “You chose this dress didn’t you?”

  Walt smiled. “No Danielle. This time your subconscious did. I rather like how you picked the same color as my shirt.”

  Without thought, Danielle reached up and touched the ends of her hair. She wore it free flowing; it fell in dark curls over her shoulders. She wondered if that too had been her subconscious choice.

  “I was worried about you,” Walt said.

  “I was worried about me too.” Danielle glanced around. She and Walt were the only ones on the beach.

  “Lily told me what happened.”

  “Hopefully now, Harvey has moved on.”

  “If I could get my hands on Harvey I would give him a good thrashing.”

  “He was really just a scared kid,” Danielle said with a weary sigh.

  “I don’t care. What he put you through was inexcusable!”

  Danielle looked down and fiddled with the seam of her dress. “I really don’t want to talk about it all now.”

  “All right. I understand. You’ve been through a lot. We can talk about what happened later.”

 

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