“Is there some costume party I don’t know about?” Chris mumbled as he pressed his foot on the accelerator, returning to normal speed. A few moments later he slowed down again before pulling in front of Marlow House and parking his car.
He got out of his vehicle and walked to the passenger side to retrieve Hunny. When he glanced back down the street, the peculiarly dressed man was no longer in sight. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he opened the car door and scooped up Hunny, who wiggled energetically in his arms while swiping enthusiastic wet kisses over his face.
Already the size of Max—who was not a small cat, close to twenty pounds—she was a plump little brindle pit bull with a white chest. Max hadn’t weighed that much when he had first arrived at Marlow House. Back then, he had been fending for himself and meals were scarce. But after moving in with Danielle, he had plenty to eat—and it showed.
Instead of carrying Hunny to the house, Chris set her on the sidewalk and slipped a harness—its leash already attached—onto her perpetually squirming body. Ignoring the leash, she jumped up on his pants legs, begging to be picked up, her tail wagging.
“Sorry, little girl.” Chris gently pushed her off his legs. “I might be able to carry you now, but in a couple months there is no way I’m going to carry you around without destroying my back. You need to get used to the leash.”
Hunny sat down briefly and looked up at Chris, her sad little face pitiful as her tail swiped over the sidewalk like a windshield wiper. A moment later she was standing up again, tugging against the leash as Chris practically dragged her toward Marlow House. By the time they reached the front gate, Chris broke down and picked Hunny up, carrying her to the front door.
“Oh my god, who is that?” Laura whispered to Carmen after Chris entered Marlow House and went into the parlor with Danielle, a pit bull puppy in his arms. They closed the door behind them. Laura and her sister, Michelle, both college students, had checked in the day before and would be staying through the weekend. Carmen had been a guest at the bed and breakfast for almost two weeks and would be checking out the day before Laura and Michelle.
“Danielle just introduced you to him. Chris Johnson,” Carmen said with a shrug as she wandered into the living room and plopped down on the sofa, scooping up a magazine as she did.
Laura followed Carmen into the room while repeatedly glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the parlor. “I know that. I mean who is he. Is that Danielle’s boyfriend?” Laura sat on the chair facing the sofa, her eyes darting to the open doorway leading to the hallway.
Carmen opened the magazine and turned the page, skimming its contents. “He lives down the street. They seem to be good friends. But I’m not sure how good. He hasn’t slept over since I’ve been here, and Danielle hasn’t slept at his house. Well, not unless she snuck out late at night and returned before I got up.” Carmen chortled at the idea and turned the page.
“He is soooo cute,” Laura groaned. “So yummy!”
“Max is the reason she won’t get off your lap,” Walt told Chris. In the parlor with Danielle and Chris, Walt sat casually along the edge of the small desk, smoking a thin cigar.
Chris sat on the sofa with Hunny on his lap, her plump body trembling. Danielle sat in a chair facing them, Max on her lap. The cat’s golden eyes fixed on the puppy while his black tail swished back and forth, repeatedly brushing over Danielle’s face. Each time it did, she shoved it aside and frowned.
“Your cat is scaring little Hunny,” Chris grumbled, protectively stroking the puppy’s back. She snuggled closer to Chris, never moving her gaze from her tormentor.
“Max, be nice,” Danielle scolded. The cat let out a high-pitched meow, sending the puppy burrowing against Chris’s chest.
“Enough, Max!” Walt snapped. The cat looked to Walt and blinked. “If I have to put up with Chris, you have to put up with his dog.” In response, Max repositioned himself on Danielle’s lap, no longer looking at the intruding canine. He closed his eyes.
“Thanks, Walt, I think.” Chris chuckled. He stroked Hunny’s back and then rubbed her ears. “Maybe she’ll seem tougher if I crop her ears?”
“Don’t you dare!” Danielle gasped. “That’s cruel!”
Chris smiled and rubbed the puppy’s ears. “I was just teasing. Anyway, I like the way they flop around.”
“I wouldn’t worry, when she grows up, just her looks will terrify people—after all, she is a pit bull. The fact she’s a lover, we’ll keep secret,” Danielle suggested.
“A lover and a big scaredy-cat,” Walt muttered. Max lifted his head, opened his eyes, and looked at Walt. “Go back to sleep, Max. It’s just an expression.”
“Hey, is one of our neighbors having a costume party we weren’t invited to?” Chris asked after Max closed his eyes again and Hunny closed hers.
Danielle absently stroked Max’s back. “Costume party? Why do you ask?”
“There was this guy walking down the street, wearing a green derby hat, red jacket, some sort of an apron—I think it was leather—short pants, and these outrageous striped socks with work boots. Actually, the entire outfit was pretty outrageous.”
“Sounds like a leprechaun.” Walt flashed Danielle a smile. “Weren’t we just talking about leprechauns?”
“From what I recall, leprechauns wear green, not red,” Danielle reminded him.
Walt shook his head. “No. In the earlier legends they wore red jackets, I believe.”
“Leprechauns? What are you two talking about?” Chris looked from Walt to Danielle. “This guy was a little too big to be a leprechaun. But now that you mention it, he was dressed like one.”
“Okay, maybe they did wear red, but I’ve never seen a leprechaun wearing an apron like Chris described,” Danielle said.
Walt arched his brows at Danielle and smiled. “So you’ve seen a lot of leprechauns?”
“You know what I mean. In pictures and stuff,” she said.
Settling back on the sofa, Chris propped one leg over his opposing knee as he absently scratched behind Hunny’s ears. “Actually, leprechauns—according to legend—wear cobbler’s aprons. They repair shoes, you know.”
“No, I did not know.” With furrowed brows Danielle added, “Well, if it was around Saint Patrick’s Day, I’d understand someone dressing up like a leprechaun, but that was three months ago. And it’s a little early for Halloween. Who do you think this guy is?”
“No clue. I didn’t recognize him. Of course, I was looking more at what he was wearing than his face.”
“Whose house did he go to?” Danielle asked.
“I don’t know. When I looked back, he was gone. So why were you two talking about leprechauns?” Chris asked.
“We were talking about the missing coins—one thing led to another—leprechauns like gold, there was that shamrock…” Danielle shrugged.
“Still no leads?” Chris asked.
Danielle then proceeded to tell Chris everything she knew about the missing gold that she hadn’t already told him on the phone.
“So the Missing Thorndike’s here?” Chris asked after Danielle told him about emptying her other safe deposit box.
“Yeah, up in the wall safe in my room.” Danielle paused a moment and looked at Chris. “You haven’t seen it yet, have you?”
Chris shook his head. “No. Just in pictures.”
Danielle stood up, gently placing Max on the floor. “Let me get it.”
When they looked his way, he ducked down out of sight. He didn’t want them to find him looking through the parlor window. He recognized Walt Marlow, yet he couldn’t remember why he knew who the man was. The woman he also recognized; she was the one who had been sleeping in the bed upstairs. The man on the sofa, he had never seen before.
It wasn’t as if he was afraid the people in the room would catch him watching them—they would only see him if he wanted them to, and then, that did not always work. It was the dog and cat that troubled him most—the cat especially. Leprechau
ns and cats did not get along.
He watched as the woman left the room. Curious as to where she was going, he moved to the second floor and looked in her bedroom window, guessing that was where she was heading. Once he looked into the bedroom, he knew he had been correct. To his surprise, she moved a painting, and there, hidden behind the canvas, was a wall safe. He grinned and leaned closer, his eyes never leaving her. He wanted to see what she was about to retrieve from the safe.
Heather Donovan was on her way home and was just about to pass Marlow House when something caught her eye. There, hovering by a window on the second floor, was a man dressed in green and red, wearing a green derby hat. She slammed on her brakes, but not before she ran headlong into the front of Chris’s car.
She was still sitting in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel, engine running, while she shakily stared up to the second floor. The man was no longer there, but the front door of Marlow House was now thrown open and the occupants of the bed and breakfast, including the owner of the car she had just slammed into, were all running in her direction.
“Are you alright?” Danielle shouted when she reached Heather’s car.
Still trembling, Heather, wide eyed, looked through the windshield at Danielle, her foot still on the brake.
Hurriedly, not saying a word, Chris opened the passenger side of the car and reached in, put the car in park, and turned off the engine. After he did, Danielle opened the driver’s side of the car and helped Heather from the vehicle.
Chris slammed the passenger door shut and ran to the driver’s side. “Are you okay?”
With a glazed expression, Heather looked from Chris to his car and broke into tears. “Your new car! Oh, I’m so sorry!” She began to sob.
Silently, the guests of Marlow House watched as Danielle gently brought Heather into the house and took her into the parlor while Chris moved her car, parking it behind his.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Danielle asked as she helped Heather to a chair.
Heather shook her head and broke into tears again. “No, I’m fine…but Chris’s car!”
By the time Chris returned to the parlor, Danielle had managed to calm Heather down. Leaving the guests of Marlow House out in the hallway to speculate on what had just happened and why, Chris closed the parlor door. The only people in the room were Chris, Heather, and Danielle—and one ghost—Walt. Hunny remained on the sofa while Max dozed on the floor under the desk.
“I’m so sorry, Chris!” Heather blubbered. “It’s your new car!”
Chris knelt by Heather’s side. “Hey, it’s just a car. I’m more worried about you. What happened?”
Wide eyed, Heather looked up into Chris’s face and then glanced to Danielle, and then to Walt, and back to Chris. “There was a man floating by Danielle’s bedroom window!”
Walt frowned. “What do you mean floating?”
“Just that. Floating. Just hovering outside her window, looking in.” Blinking her eyes, she added, “He was dressed in green with a red jacket.”
Seven
“That sounds like the guy I saw walking down the street a little while ago. Are you saying he climbed up on the roof and was looking in Danielle’s bedroom?” Chris rushed to the parlor window and looked outside.
“I said floating,” Heather said impatiently, absently combing her fingers through her straight bangs. Strands of her black hair were beginning to escape the confines of her braids.
Chris turned back to face Heather. “So our leprechaun is actually a ghost?”
Heather frowned. “Leprechaun? What are you talking about?” No longer crying, she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
“Chris saw this guy walking down the street dressed up like a leprechaun,” Danielle explained. “But if he’s floating around outside, it sounds more like he’s a ghost.”
“I wonder if leprechauns can fly?” Heather murmured.
“Oh, come on, there are no such things as leprechauns,” Walt said impatiently. He waved his hand and a cigar appeared.
Heather looked over to Walt and arched her brow. “Why not? There are ghosts.”
“That’s what I told him.” Danielle flashed Walt a grin and was met with an eye roll.
Chris chuckled and then took a seat on the sofa. “Too tall for a leprechaun.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell his size. I didn’t get that good a look,” Heather said, now sounding much calmer. “How tall are leprechauns, anyway?”
Walt flashed Heather a look of annoyance.
“If he was floating by the upstairs window, sounds like a ghost to me,” Danielle said. “Unless he was wearing a jetpack, I don’t know of any guys who can fly.”
“If he’s a ghost, who is he?” Heather asked.
Chris shrugged. “I have to admit I didn’t get a look at the guy’s face. I was too busy checking out his clothes.”
“I didn’t see his face either,” Heather said. “But I don’t know of anyone who’s recently passed who dresses like that. Heck, I don’t know anyone alive who does.”
“Why was he looking in my window?” Danielle grumbled.
“Maybe he heard you had a ghost-friendly house?” Heather suggested with a grin.
Max, who had slept through the commotion, opened his eyes and looked around the room. When he spied Heather sitting nearby, he looked over at Walt and let out a loud meow.
Walt’s gaze met Max’s. He was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “Really?”
Frowning, Heather looked from Walt to Max, back to Walt. “Are you talking to that cat?”
“It seems Max here saw that man you described. He was standing by Danielle’s bed last night.”
“What do you mean he was standing by my bed?” Danielle shrieked.
Before Walt could answer, the door to the parlor flew open and Lily walked in, Ian and Sadie trailing behind her.
“What in the world happened to Heather’s and Chris’s cars? Their hoods are both smashed up.”
Heather groaned and slumped down in the chair. “Oh, the car…I almost forgot.”
“Heather had a little accident,” Danielle explained. She glanced at the clock and then looked back to Lily. “That was a quick trip. What did you do, just drive to Portland and turn around and come back?”
“Car trouble,” Ian said. “But it looks like I’m not the only one to have car trouble.”
Sadie, who had just come into the parlor with Ian, promptly walked to the sofa, her tail wagging as she nosed Hunny, who immediately attempted to retreat behind Chris, trying her best to wiggle between her human’s back and the sofa cushion.
“Sadie,” Walt shouted, “leave the puppy alone. You’re scaring her.”
Sadie glanced over at Walt and made a little grunting sound before flopping down on the floor by Chris’s feet. She rested her chin on her front paws while she looked up to the sofa. They don’t let me on the furniture!
“Is everyone okay?” Ian asked, now standing by the desk.
“Everyone’s fine,” Chris told them.
“Our cars aren’t,” Heather groaned.
Ian shook his head in disgust. “This has been a crazy kind of day. First someone steals Danielle’s coins and then—”
“Who stole Danielle’s coins? What coins?” Heather interrupted.
“The gold coins,” Danielle explained.
Heather frowned. “I don’t understand. I thought you were keeping them in a safe deposit box?”
“Any word on the theft?” Ian asked.
Danielle shook her head. “No. I haven’t talked to the chief since I got home. But actually, the FBI is working on the case.”
Sitting up straighter in the chair, Heather looked from Ian to Danielle. “I don’t understand? What happened?”
“I went to get the coins out of the safe deposit box this morning because I was meeting the buyer, and when I opened the box, it was empty.”
“We are talking about a safe deposit b
ox at the bank, right?” Heather asked.
Danielle looked over to Heather and nodded. “Yes.”
“How is that even possible?” Heather asked.
Danielle wrinkled her nose. “I have no clue. From what I understand, they’re reviewing the videos from the security cameras.”
“Wow.” Heather slumped back on the chair. “If you don’t get them back, will the bank have to pay you?”
“Typically, a bank is not responsible for the contents of a safe deposit box. For one thing, they don’t inventory what their customers put into the boxes,” Ian said.
“And I wasn’t insured,” Danielle added.
“Wow,” Heather said again. “And I thought I was having a bad day.”
“Exactly what happened out there?” Ian asked.
“A dog darted across the street, and Heather was trying to miss it and hit Chris’s car,” Danielle told him.
Walt shook his head and chuckled. “It amazes me how easily lies slip off your tongue.”
Heather and Chris exchanged glances, yet said nothing.
Lily sniffed the air—she detected a hint of cigar smoke. It wasn’t really necessary; she had already guessed Walt was in the room with them. It was obvious to her Walt had told Sadie to leave Hunny alone. And by the way Chris and Heather were acting, she suspected there was more to the car story than they were letting on and wondered if they were discussing something when she and Ian had barged into the room.
Lily grabbed Ian’s hand. “Come on, you promised to take me out for pie. Let’s walk down to Pier Café.” Without asking anyone to join them, she dragged Ian from the room, leaving Sadie sleeping by the sofa.
A few moments later, after Ian and Lily had left the room and closed the door behind them, Chris asked, “So what are we going to do about this new ghost?”
“Not sure what we can do,” Heather said.
“He wasn’t standing by your bed!” Danielle said with a shiver. She then paused a moment, suddenly remembering something. She dug her hand in her pocket and then pulled out a gold necklace—lavishly bejeweled with glittering emeralds and diamonds. Holding it up for all to see, she said, “I almost forgot! I was coming downstairs with the Missing Thorndike when I heard the car crash. I shoved the necklace in my pocket.”
The Ghost and the Leprechaun Page 4