A Ghost of a Clue

by Debra Doggett

  “What it means is she needs us to help her. Somebody’s hurting her, and we have to stop them.”

  “Amber.” Travis pulled out a chair and motioned to her. “Come and sit down.”

  There was no mistaking the authority in his voice, and reluctantly Amber dropped into the chair. Travis pulled out chairs for Rory and himself then sat and faced the emotional young girl.

  “I think what Rory is trying to tell you is that the…figure you saw was a ghost.” He glanced over at Rory. “Although I’m reserving judgment on that, the point I believe she’s trying to make is that the person that figure represents is already dead.”

  Amber looked at him. “So?”

  “So, that means that whoever or whatever hurt her has already done so. She isn’t around for us to help anymore.”

  Amber shook her head, tears starting down her cheeks again. “We have to help her.” She turned a pleading look to Rory.

  “Well,” Rory sighed. “There is a way to help a spirit trapped here on earth by what happened to them.”

  Travis turned to frown at her. Justin and Michael, who had been quiet and still looked confused, turned to stare at her as well. Rory shrugged.

  “It’s something Aunt Lorena taught me to do. A way to give peace to those troubled spirits who couldn’t move on.” And this one certainly seems troubled, she thought, remembering the pain that had filled the room when the ghost started moaning.

  “Like an exorcism?” Michael’s look held both excitement and a bit of fear.

  Justin smacked him on the shoulder. “That’s demons, not ghosts. You don’t have an exorcism for a ghost.”

  “No,” Rory smiled. “Not an exorcism. Justin’s right. Exorcisms aren’t for ghosts.”

  “But isn’t the only way to give her peace is to help her?” Amber’s tear-stained face held a hopeful look.

  “If by help her, you mean give her what she needs to move on, then yes. But Amber,” Rory made her voice gentle. “Travis, um, Mr. Reed is right. Nothing we do can change what happened to whoever this girl was. It’s too late for that. It’s already happened.”

  “So we can’t help her.”

  Rory wanted to tear up herself at the despair in Amber’s voice. “We can do something to give her ghost some peace. That’s helping.”

  “So what do we do?” Travis looked from her to Amber. “How do we help?”

  “Well, the first thing we do, and the biggest problem we might face, is we need to know who this ghost is, or rather who she was.”

  “How do we find that out?”

  Rory turned to Michael and smiled at him. It was nice to not have any of them running screaming out her door. She had expected the kids to take any paranormal activity they might see tonight as something cool and exciting. Not that she had expected anything near the magnitude of a completely visible ghost stand in front of them and plead for help. The person she hadn’t expected acceptance from was Travis, yet he sat here with the rest of them, trying to figure out what they could do to help a ghost he didn’t believe existed. Maybe the rejection would come later but for now she felt her attraction to him growing by leaps and bounds. If that attraction got shot down later she would worry about it then.

  “Well, I’m not sure.” She turned to Travis.

  “I think this might be a job for some researchers.” Travis said. “Probably the best place to start for that would be the library.”

  “The library can tell us who the ghost was?” Michael sounded confused as usual.

  Travis laughed. “What the library has is old newspapers. From the looks of the blood on her clothes, this ghost girl must have been in an accident. So maybe there’s a report of it in the newspapers.”

  Rory knew Travis was downplaying the scariest aspect of what they had seen. It wasn’t a sure thing that the girl had been in an accident. She could very well have been murdered. But there was no sense scaring the kids more than they already had been with that kind of a scenario.

  “Wouldn’t we have read about an accident in the paper, though?” Justin asked.

  Amber rolled her eyes at him. “It didn’t happen yesterday. Didn’t you see the way she looked?”

  “Amber’s right,” Rory said. “This girl likely died a long time ago. From the way she was dressed I’d say maybe the 1960s or ’70s.” She turned to Travis. “Since you’re the hippie expert I’ll defer to you on that.”

  He nodded. “I think those years would be a good place to start based on her clothing. Although I guess some of that style could have stayed around for a while longer.” He glanced over at the kids. “Or made a comeback later. But we can give it a try. How about it, guys? You up for some library time?”

  The boys nodded and looked to Amber. She gave Rory a solemn look.

  “And we can help her if we know who she was?”

  “I think so.” Rory reached over and squeezed Amber’s hand. “I believe we can help her move on to a better place. Maybe even help her solve whatever kept her from moving on when she died.”

  “Okay.” Amber nodded. “We go to the library then.”

  Chapter Eight

  From the looks of him when he picked her up the next morning, Rory thought Travis must have had as sleepless a night as she did. She could just imagine the thoughts going through his logical mind. That wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have at the moment, so she focused her own thoughts on how they might find the information that would identify their ghostly visitor.

  The Lobster Cove Public Library was a pleasant surprise. Rory had expected a small cramped space without much in the way of research materials but instead found it to be a well thought out and well laid out building. Rachel Riley, the librarian on duty at the research desk when they arrived, was pleasant and helpful. Rory placed her in her late twenties or early thirties, which disappointed her. She’d secretly hoped the librarian would be a woman old enough to remember a young girl from the ’70s dying in an accident. That would have made their search easier and quicker. Rory feared the longer it took them to find out who the ghost girl was the more the kids’ active imaginations would build up a more dramatic scenario for her. Amber in particular was traumatized enough already.

  Rachel told them she’d lived in Lobster Cove all her life, and when Rory said her name there was instant recognition. Nice to know the gossip about her hadn’t died down yet, she thought. But it turned out that Rachel had known Rory’s aunt.

  “Ms. Lorena was in here all the time when she was in town.” Rachel smiled. “She would give us lists of books she thought we should add to the collection.”

  “She loved to read.” Rory nodded. “She was never without a recommendation for my reading list, and she was generally pretty insistent on her choices. Her reasoning was reading those books would make me well-rounded.”

  “That was the nice thing about Ms. Lorena’s lists.” Rachel laughed. “They covered a wide variety of topics. Most of the time our head librarian, Patsy Duncan, hated to get recommendations from people because they’re usually books that are too expensive or too obscure. But Ms. Lorena would purchase them and donate them to the library if they were very expensive. We added some neat literature to our collection from her purchases.”

  “She was a big supporter of public libraries. One time she told me they were like banks and as important to a community as any financial institutions. They held the currency of knowledge, and that was more valuable than money.”

  “That sounds like her.” Rachel agreed “She believed in education, and she believed in Lobster Cove. She is very much missed. We were all so glad when someone came to live in her cottage though. It would’ve been a shame to lose that piece of Lobster Cove’s history.”

  Thankfully Travis had a library card so they could gain access to the files of old newspapers. Rachel showed them to the microfiche room, and they settled down to view the papers from the 1970s, thinking to start there first. It was a bit of luck that Lobster Cove had only had one newspaper back then. Thank
goodness for small towns, Rory thought. Although there had been others during the town’s history they had come and gone before the 1950s. That cut down on the material they would need to go through, although if they found nothing in the Lobster Cove papers Rory wasn’t sure they wanted to tackle the larger Maine newspapers. That could take quite a bit of time and effort. She had some other thoughts on how to move their hurting spirit on if they couldn’t find out who she was.

  They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the ghost on Friday night. Travis had taken the kids home and talked with their parents a bit about what had happened. Rory wondered how much he had downplayed things in order not to frighten their parents but to her surprise he had told them everything. That should keep her being the talk of the town for a long time. According to Travis, they took it well. She hoped he was right. Since each of the kids’ families had relatives who were part of the Ghost Hunting Society, she guessed that should have been expected. Maybe she should be more worried about adults showing up to ghost hunt at the cottage.

  The kids were going to search out the newspapers in the school library on Monday. Travis decided they could do the work as part of the grade they had missed when they skipped out of their ocean studies to ghost hunt. Rory told him he’d finally agreed with her philosophy, that if you couldn’t beat ’em then join ’em, but he only smiled and stuck to his story that it was a good teaching technique. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at the Dumb Supper, a fact that worried Rory a bit. Travis hadn’t said anything negative but she wondered if that was coming when they did talk. Seeing a ghost you don’t believe in had to be a traumatic change of events for a logical, reasonable person.

  After three hours of staring at the screen, Rory was ready to give up hope they would find anything. She stretched and yawned before leaning over to look at the screen in front of Travis. He had a look of fascination on his face and she thought he might have found something but the only thing she saw was a page full of advertisements.

  “What are you staring at?”

  “Look at this,” he said, pointing at the screen.

  “You found something?” Rory looked harder at the blurred images. “Did you get her name?”

  “Whose name?”

  Travis turned a confused look to her, and Rory rolled her eyes.

  “The name of the girl we’ve been sitting here looking for for the last three hours.”

  “Oh. Yeah. No, I didn’t find her but look at this. Look at the prices on this stuff.”

  “Is that what you’re gaping at? Advertisements?”

  “Wow, stuff was cheap then.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure they didn’t think it was cheap. What was the minimum wage then, two, three bucks an hour?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just seems crazy how much things have gone up.” He looked over at Rory. “Why don’t we take a break? You look hungry.”

  “I think that’s your stomach growling, not mine. But a break sounds good.”

  “We can check out the Saturday special at Maggie’s Diner then maybe we should go over and talk to Daryl Johnson.”

  “And he is?”

  “Daryl is chief of police. He’s been at it since before I was born. Maybe he’d remember something about a girl and an accident.”

  “That would be nice. I’m beginning to believe we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  They thanked Rachel on the way out and told her they might be back in an hour or so. Maggie’s Diner was one of the eating places Rory had on her list to check out, so lunch sounded like the best thing right now. Travis’ stomach may have been the one growling but she was sure hers wasn’t far behind. The diner was an easy walk across the town square from the library, and it gave them the chance to stretch out the kinks from sitting bent over the microfiche machines.

  “You know,” Rory said, deciding to plunge ahead with what she knew needed to be talked about. “We haven’t discussed what happened last night.”

  “It seems what happened last night has been our focus all day today. What is there to discuss beyond what we’re doing now?”

  She stopped and made him turn to her and stop as well. “Did you just try to avoid my question?”

  Travis sighed. “Not really avoid it. Just defer it.”

  “Well, you’re not getting a deferment on this one, Mr. Reed.”

  “How about a postponement? At least until we’ve ordered lunch.”

  Rory nodded, but the worry inside her bloomed to epic proportions. Food didn’t seem like such a good idea now since nerves were wrecking havoc with her stomach. You know you were expecting this. It was only a matter of time. She tried to ignore her inner voice but the nagging doubts tormented her anyway.

  Maggie’s Diner was as cute inside as it had looked from the outside. The pretty blue-checked curtains on the windows matched the blue vinyl booths, and the cream and chrome tables looked very retro. The place was bustling with Saturday traffic, always a good sign in a restaurant in Rory’s opinion. Travis waved to the harried waitress, who motioned them to a booth by the window. The menus were in little holders on the tables, and Rory pulled one out. All of it sounded delicious but she thought, when in Maine, so she decided on the lobster burger. Travis decided on the same. When they’d given the waitress their orders, Rory looked him in the eye.

  “We haven’t talked about the fact that we all saw a ghost. That you saw a ghost. And we need to.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I guess we do.” For a moment he just looked at her, that thoughtful expression back on his face. “I can’t say what happened, what I saw last night, didn’t throw me for a loop. It’s a bit hard to maintain a detached composure when you’re looking right at something you didn’t think existed.”

  Well, he’d spelled it all out, Rory thought. She had expected to have to coax that conclusion out of him.

  “But?”

  He let her question linger between them for a long minute. “But I also have excellent eyesight. Just had it checked last month, as a matter of fact. I know what I saw, there’s no getting around that.”

  Rory blew out a breath. “If it helps, Aunt Lorena explained it to me as a collection of kinetic energy gathering together in one spot to form an outline visible to the human eye.”

  Travis snorted. “It was a ghost, Rory. I understand what you’re saying, but what I have to wrap my mind around is the visual of a young girl standing in your living room begging us to help her.”

  “Yes. That’s pretty much the sum of it.”

  “Something else I’m wrapping my mind around is the fact that this is something that happens to you a lot.”

  Here it comes, Rory thought, steeling herself to see the rejection in his eyes. “Not every day but yes, it happens a lot. It’s been this way since I was a kid, so I guess I’ve gotten used to it. They aren’t all as serious as this. As a matter of fact, most of the sightings I have are pretty benign. Most of the time ghosts just want to check us out, take a look at what we’re doing. Aunt Lorena taught me that spirits who stay around in places familiar to them do so because they enjoy the feel of being somewhere that feels like home. Eventually most of them move on. The ones you hear stories about who have lingered for years generally have some issue with moving on.”

  “Like this girl.”

  Rory nodded. “Yes, I’d say she has some issue with moving on, something preventing her from passing fully out of this world. It can be anything from a desire to talk to someone they knew one last time to residual trauma from the manner of their death.”

  Their food arrived, and Rory found herself grateful for the interruption. She could remain clinical about things for only so long. The burgers tasted delicious, but after a couple of bites, she put hers down and looked over at Travis.

  “I can give you clinical descriptions all night long. What I can’t do is ignore the fact that…things may have changed between us because of last night. Believe me, I know from personal experience what seeing somethin
g like that can do. If you would rather not—”

  “Rory.”

  She paused at the serious tone in his voice, keeping her gaze down on the table.

  “Look at me, Rory.”

  With a sigh she looked up at him. He shook his head.

  “I’ve spent all day staring at a tiny computer screen full of grainy, barely visible images just so I could try and find a photo of a ghost. Do you really think I would have wasted my Saturday morning that way if I were ready to run from you?”

  From the look on his face, Rory could tell he meant what he said.

  “I’m going to say no.”

  “Good.” This time his voice was fierce. “That answer gives me hope that we can put this issue to rest once and for all. If there ever comes a time when I’m ready to throw in the towel, and I do not see that option as ever being viable, it won’t be because I’m scared of who you are or of what you are. Both of those things are what attracted me to you. So stop worrying.”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  “Now eat up. We’ve got a picture to find.”

  Chapter Nine

  It turned out they didn’t have to spend more hours in front of the microfiche machines. Instead of going back to the library right after lunch, Travis decided they should stop at the police chief’s house first. The decision turned out to be a good one.

  “Yeah, I think I might know who you’re talking about.”

  They were in Chief Johnson’s cramped home office. Rory and Travis had given him a detailed description of the ghost girl and told him they thought she had been in an accident. The part they omitted was the truth about why they wanted to find her. Rory insisted they leave out the ghost part, and Travis seemed more than willing to agree to that. Instead, they told Chief Johnson the research was part of a history of Lobster Cove that Rory wanted to write, and that she had found a description of the girl in her aunt’s journals.

  Johnson had an entire wall of file cabinets filled with files and clippings from cases going back to his early days as chief. He dug through one cabinet, mumbling to himself as he shuffled through the tightly filled drawer before pulling out a worn green folder.