The Ghosts of Misty Hollow

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  For almost a full minute the four of them sat there, Phil and Emma on the sofa, Gino still perched on the arm of the other sofa and Leroy by the bar. Only the crackling of the fire broke the silence. Gino turned and looked at the fire. He got up without a word and went to it. Picking up the poker, he stirred the embers and logs until it went from a simple fire to a bigger, warmer blaze with sparks flying upward. After replacing the poker back into its stand, he turned to Emma. “Are you saying that Tanisha, my only child, might have inherited Nonnie’s penchant for ghosts?”

  Granny threw her arms straight upward. “Touchdown!”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it a penchant,” Emma responded, trying not to scowl at Granny. “We think of it as a gift, or a skill or talent.”

  Gino returned to the sofa, but didn’t make any move to sit. “So T can see and talk to ghosts?”

  “Oh wow!” exclaimed Leroy. “Now that’s really interesting.” Gino shot his assistant a scowl and Leroy shut up and took a long drink from his glass.

  “So far,” Phil said, “we’ve only witnessed her hearing or speaking to them. And she can sense their presence.”

  “But it’s only been scattered in her case,” Emma added. “Like a static phone line. It could expand over time or might always be limited. There’s no way of knowing.”

  Gino rubbed a large hand up and down his face as he digested the information. “For how long? And why didn’t she say anything?”

  “It started with that body the girls discovered,” Emma told him. “As for why she’s kept it from you, I don’t think she has. Didn’t she mention it when you came to the girls’ assistance in Boston? And didn’t you brush it off?” Emma tried hard to keep accusation out of her tone.

  Gino crossed his arms over his powerful chest and looked up, blowing air at the ceiling in frustration. “Yeah,” he admitted, “she did say something, but I thought it was just something she fantasized in the emotion and excitement of what had happened.” He looked back down at Emma. “And honestly, I thought Kelly had put the idea into her head. I’m sorry.”

  “Gino, don’t apologize to me,” Emma told him. “Apologize to Tanisha, and listen to her. Whether you personally believe in spirits or not, believe in her.”

  A short, stout woman with a dour face and tightly curled short gray hair entered the room. She wore a light blue uniform with an apron and rubber-soled shoes, and looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies. “Mr. Costello, dinner is ready,” she announced in a thick European accent.

  “Thank you, Marta,” Gino said to the woman. “By the way, these are our guests, Emma Whitecastle and Phil Bowers. Emma is Kelly Whitecastle’s mother.”

  Marta nodded at them in greeting, touching a crucifix hanging from a chain around her neck when she looked at Emma. She quickly turned her attention back to her employer. “Mrs. Costello said to please excuse her. She has a headache and has retired upstairs.”

  “She’s not eating?” asked Gino.

  “She has asked me to bring her a tray,” the housekeeper told him. Seeing Gino had nothing more to ask, the woman turned and left.

  “I’m sorry Vanessa won’t be joining us,” Gino said to Emma and Phil. “But at least now we can continue this conversation and I can tell you more about my book over dinner. Vanessa really dislikes me talking about my work over meals. She says the violence and crime bother her digestion.” He paused, then added, “Unless you would rather we discuss the weather?”

  “I’d love to hear more,” Phil answered with the eagerness of a true fan.

  “There goes fan-boy again,” said Granny. Emma started to giggle, but held herself in check.

  “Me, too,” added Emma with a look in Granny’s direction. “But I am sorry Vanessa isn’t feeling well.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said as he directed them to the dining room.

  Emma gently moved her head in the direction Granny was hovering, trying to convey to the ghost to follow them. When they were in the hallway, Emma asked where the downstairs restroom was located. Leroy directed her down a short hallway. “It’s to the left, under the staircase, right before you get to that open door that leads to the kitchen.”

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she told the men and headed in the direction Leroy had indicated, hoping Granny had gotten her message and came with her.

  The downstairs powder room was well appointed and roomier than she’d expected, with a sloping ceiling that followed the line of the wide staircase above it. It contained a toilet, a sink and cabinet combination, fresh towels, and scented soaps. The lower half of the room was paneled in white-painted wood with vintage wallpaper above. Under the lowest part of the sloping roof was a small two-shelf table on which was a silk flower arrangement with a few magazines on the lower shelf. Above the sink was a mirror with a silk ivy garland draped across the top and hanging down on either side. Looking around, Emma was sure at one time the room had been a very large storage area.

  “Granny,” she whispered into the air. No sound followed. “Granny,” Emma said again, “where are you?”

  “Keep your shirt on,” a voice said. “I’m right here.”

  Emma relaxed. “Good. I was worried you didn’t get the message to follow me.”

  “You have to admit,” the ghost said, finally coming into view, “it was pretty vague.”

  “Did you find out anything about the ghosts hanging out here?” Emma asked.

  Granny shook her head. “Only that they are busting their buttons to talk to you.” The ghost sniffed in annoyance and crossed her arms across her chest. “Apparently, I’m not good enough.”

  “Don’t be hurt, Granny,” Emma said, trying to soothe the spirit’s ruffled feathers, something she’d become used to doing. “They probably just want to say what’s on their mind once instead of repeating it.”

  “Maybe,” Granny said, somewhat mollified. “They don’t appear to be a chatty bunch, not even Slim, who seems to have been nominated as their mouthpiece.”

  “Could you tell how many there are? When we drove up, all I could make out was a few outlines, but nothing definite.”

  “Not sure, because they didn’t show themselves much to me either. But I think I could make out four, maybe five, besides Slim.”

  “Did Slim tell you his real name?” Emma asked.

  Granny scratched her head as she tried to remember. Granny’s hair was braided and wound around her head like a crown. “I think his given name is Blaine. At least that’s what one of the others called him. I didn’t catch any surname.”

  “Good work, Granny,” Emma told the helpful ghost. “I think their last name might be Brown, or at least that’s the name of the family that originally owned this property. Maybe later tonight I can connect with them, or sometime tomorrow. If you do see Blaine or the others again, let them know I’m looking forward to speaking to them.” She paused, then asked with some concern, “You don’t think they’ll just pop into our room in the night, do you?”

  “You mean like I do?” The ghost put her hands on her narrow hips in challenge.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Emma shot back. “Let them know I will be seeking them out when it’s convenient and I’m free to talk openly with them.”

  “Sure, I’ll be your errand girl,” Granny told her. “Got nothing else to do. There’s not even any dogs or cats around here to play with.”

  “You sound like Vanessa Costello,” Emma told her.

  “Yeah, isn’t she a pip? Easy to see why Kelly and T don’t care for her much.” Granny paused. “I’m not sure about that Leroy guy. The girls like to make fun of him. Not to his face, of course. T says he’s always slinking around, kissing up to Gino. She calls him slimy Sam.”

  “He’s Gino’s assistant,” she told Granny. “He’s paid to help Gino in any way he can.” Still, Emma could see where T would get tha
t impression of Leroy. There was something smarmy about him. He seemed too eager to please, but that helpfulness appeared underlined by sarcasm and not genuine. Maybe, she thought, he didn’t really like his job and it was his way of dealing with it.

  Emma had an idea. “Granny, I have a little job for you, if you want it.”

  The sourness on the spirit’s face melted away, replaced by eagerness. “Sure.”

  “Go upstairs and check on Vanessa. See how she’s doing and what she’s doing.”

  “You don’t trust her, do you?” asked Granny. “Me neither.”

  “I don’t know if it’s a lack of trust, but I do think something more is going on with her besides not wanting to be here.”

  “Did she say something suspicious? Like drop a hint that she’s a criminal on the run or something like that?” Granny got excited as her overactive imagination started running in all directions.

  Emma laughed softly. “No, nothing like that. I’m just getting an odd vibration from her. I actually think she’s more scared than cranky. See if you can find out anything.”

  “On it, Chief.” Granny saluted and disappeared.

  • CHAPTER THREE •

  AFTER a delicious dinner, Emma, Phil, and Gino convened on the big deck in the back. Both the deck and the front porch had a selection of painted rockers. The back deck also had two patio tables and chairs. The three of them each took a rocker. Emma had brought out one of the afghans from the den and wrapped it over her jacket and around her shoulders against the cool night air. The men were wearing jackets. They gently rocked while they looked out at the dock and dark lake, which could only been seen in the night as far as the dock lights would allow. To the left, to the water, was the guesthouse. Its outside light was on, as well as the low-set solar lights lining the path to it.

  “That’s where Leroy is staying, isn’t it?” Emma asked, pointing to the small building painted to match the house.

  “Yes,” Gino said. “It’s a real nice studio bungalow with a kitchenette and bath. On the other side, the side facing the lake, there’s a small deck with two rockers like these. The B&B owners booked it as the honeymoon cottage. The current owners sometimes book it separately from the big house, but since it was available I booked it for Leroy as a treat. Leroy was thrilled. He’s a fantastic assistant, but I know he gets tired of being around us all the time.”

  As if on cue, Leroy emerged from the small cottage, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and headed up a narrow path that led directly past the house to the front. He was on his cell phone. They couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his voice sounded high and strained. He lowered his voice when he spotted them on the deck, then ended the call. As he passed the house, Leroy called out in a cheery voice, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  “Leroy travels with you?” Phil asked once Leroy was out of sight.

  Gino nodded. “Most of the time. He was with us in Italy this trip. In Chicago, he has his own place not far from us.”

  “This reminds me of Julian,” Phil said as he rocked next to Emma. “We don’t have a lake on the property but Emma’s place has several of these big wooden rockers on the front porch. On nice evenings we like to sit out there and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

  Marta came out of a side door bearing a tray of mugs with fresh decaf coffee and a full carafe for refills, along with sugar and cream. There was also a large plate of fresh cookies. She placed it on a nearby side table, then handed a mug to each of them. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Costello,” the maid said, “I’d like to retire for the evening.”

  “If Mrs. Costello doesn’t need you,” Gino told her, “you go right ahead. We’re good out here.”

  “Thank you, Marta, for the delicious meal,” Emma said to her. The maid cut her eyes to Emma, but didn’t look at her directly. She nodded, reaching instinctively for her crucifix.

  “Yes, Marta,” chimed in Phil. “Thank you. That roast chicken was outstanding.” Again the maid nodded.

  “What will you be wanting for breakfast?” Marta asked, not focusing on anyone in particular.

  “Folks,” Gino said to Phil and Emma, “any special requests?”

  Emma answered first. “I’m good with just cereal and fruit and I can get that for myself, so please don’t fuss, Marta.”

  Still without looking directly at Emma, Marta said, “It’s no fuss, ma’am. Not at all. Mrs. Costello has requested oatmeal with raisins and cranberries. Would that suit you?”

  “I’d love that,” Emma told the woman.

  “Marta has this incredible homemade granola that she puts on top of the oatmeal,” Gino added. “I hated the damn stuff until I had it with her granola. She brought a big baggie of it with her.”

  “Sounds good for me, too,” added Phil.

  “All right, then,” Gino declared, “oatmeal all around. And, Marta, could you also whip up some of those great apple bran muffins of yours? And I’ll be wanting a couple of scrambled eggs. The oatmeal is great, but doesn’t hold me until lunch.”

  “Consider it done. The usual time?” Marta asked.

  Gino turned to his guests. “You folks can sleep in as long as you like, but generally I have breakfast between eight and eight thirty.”

  “Emma and I are early risers,” Phil said, giving Marta a smile, “so that’s good for us.”

  Marta simply nodded again without expression and went back inside. After she was gone, Emma asked, “How long has Marta been with you?”

  Gino chuckled, “Seems like forever, but it has only been three or four years. We went through quite a few live-in housekeepers for a while, then Marta came and seemed to fit our lifestyle and stuck it out. She’s quiet as a mouse, efficient as hell, and an excellent cook. She’s even an excellent seamstress. Our place in Chicago is quite large and she oversees the cleaning people who come in. She also coordinates the catering and staff for any entertaining Vanessa does. I don’t know what we’d do without her.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his large chest like a truck over a gravel road. “I joke with Vanessa that if we ever divorce, she can have anything she wants, except Marta.”

  Emma gave Phil a sidelong glance, then asked, “And Marta doesn’t mind traveling with you?”

  “Usually she doesn’t travel with us, unless it’s a place like this where we rent a large house and set up shop for a while. As far as I know, she doesn’t have any family left. She moved to the states from Germany when she was a young woman and married a man named Peele, who passed away many years ago. I believe he was much older than her and they had no children. At least that’s what the background check we did when we hired her came up with.” He took a sip of his coffee. “The only time we see her animated is when T visits. She loves that girl. And she’s in hog’s heaven when T brings Kelly along for the occasional weekend.”

  “Tanisha is pretty special,” added Phil. “She’s become the fourth kid in our family, along with Kelly and my two boys.” Phil paused, then added, “I hope you don’t mind? We’re not trying to replace you and Vanessa by any means.”

  “Not at all,” Gino quickly answered. “I’m ashamed to say it, but we don’t provide her with a stable family influence like you two do. The last time she really had that was when her mother was alive. And she and Vanessa don’t get along that well.”

  Gino pulled two cigars out of the breast pocket of his shirt and held them out, across Emma. “Phil, would you like a cigar? I love smoking one on occasion after a good meal.” He grinned at Emma. “You can have one, too, Emma. I know some ladies like them.”

  Emma crinkled her nose. “No thanks, but Phil enjoys one once in a while.”

  “That I do,” Phil said, taking one of the offered cigars. Gino got up and offered Phil a light. After Phil was puffing away, Gino lit his own cigar and remained standing, leaning against one of the posts.

  “Getting back to T,” Gino said, “like I s
aid before, since coming to know you folks, she’s been a lot more keen on having a relationship with me. I thank you for that. After her mother died, I sent her off to boarding school. I was in a rocky marriage to my third wife and travelling a lot, like I do now, and couldn’t make a real home for her. Then she went off to college. After, it seemed like we were strangers in an awkward dance. You know, locked together but not able to look each other in the eye. I thought I’d lost her until that incident that brought her and Kelly together. Now T makes a real effort to stay connected to me. I visit her as often as I can in Boston, just the two of us without Vanessa, and T tries to get to Chicago more than just on holidays now.”

  “She’s a wonderful young woman,” Emma said. “So bright and passionate.”

  Gino nodded. “Yeah, no thanks to me. She got all her good stuff from her mother. Janelle was an incredible woman.” He sighed, then said in barely a whisper, “She was the love of my life, but I messed that up good. Sometimes when I look at Tanisha, I’m so reminded of Janelle that I physically ache inside.”

  Tanisha had once shared with Emma that Gino had wanted to marry her mother, but her mother didn’t approve of his lifestyle and didn’t want to be wife number three. Gino had gone on to marry someone else and had since divorced her and married Vanessa. Emma looked up but couldn’t see the top floor of the house because of the roof over the deck.

  Gino caught her glance. “Don’t worry,” he told Emma, “Vanessa is out cold from a sleeping pill. I checked on her after dinner. Besides, she wouldn’t care. She hasn’t said anything, but I’m pretty sure she has one foot out the marriage door, and a good part of the fault falls on me.” He puffed on his cigar, then added, “That will make me a four-time loser in the matrimony department. Is it any wonder my daughter looks to others for role models?”

  “He’s right about all of that,” said Granny. Slowly the ghost started to materialize next to Gino. “Vanessa is sound asleep and from what I saw, they are not sharing the same room. He has the smaller suite next to her room.”