by Bobbi Holmes
Danielle sat there a moment while Kelly prattled away. Finally, Danielle picked up her phone and looked at it. “Oh my, I almost forgot! I need to get going.”
“I’m keeping you from something? Oh, I’m sorry.”
Danielle stood up. “That’s okay. I forgot all about it. But I need to change my clothes first.”
As soon as Kelly left, Danielle dashed upstairs, Walt by her side. Like Walt had said, Lily lay sobbing on her bed.
Sitting on the side of the mattress, Danielle placed a hand on Lily’s back and asked, “What’s wrong, Lily?”
“It’s over, Dani. Over.” Still sobbing, Lily sat up and threw her arms around Danielle. “Ian broke up with me. I feel as if I’m dying inside.”
THIRTEEN
“I should thrash Ian for making our Lily cry like this!” Walt fumed as he angrily paced the bedroom floor.
After calming Lily down, Danielle had tried to talk to Ian, but he wasn’t answering his phone. When she went over to his house, she found his sister, who explained Ian was not at home and she had no idea where he had gone. Kelly explained that when she had returned from Marlow House earlier, both he and Sadie were gone, along with his car. He hadn’t left a note.
SUNDAY WAS COMING TO AN END, and Lily had spent most of the day in her room, crying. She had finally fallen asleep. It didn’t look as if Walt was going to let Danielle do the same—in spite of the last two days, both utterly exhausting and emotional. Yet even if Walt retreated to the attic, Danielle doubted she would be able to fall asleep.
The blinds to her bedroom window were open, revealing a dark night sky. Danielle sat cross-legged on the center of her bed and listened silently as Walt continued to rant.
“I’d like to give that palooka a good punch in the nose!”
“If he ever comes over here, you can do just that. I won’t stop you,” she promised.
Walt paused a moment and looked at Danielle. “If? Are you suggesting he might not come over here again?”
Danielle shrugged. “From what Lily said, when Ian calls it quits, he doesn’t waste any time moving on. But I have to admit, this really surprises me about Ian.”
Walt waved his hand and a cigar appeared. Just before he was about to take a puff, he realized where he was. In the next moment, the cigar vanished.
“Oh, go ahead. Considering the last couple of days, I think I can make an exception this one time. Have your cigar. But just be glad you aren’t alive.”
A smile curled on Walt’s lips, yet he didn’t summon another cigar. “Why is that exactly?”
“Because if you were alive, I wouldn’t care what room you were in—or how crappy a day you had, I’d be snatching those cigars out of your hand before they ever touched your lips.”
“Really? Why is that?”
Danielle flashed Walt a shy smile. “Why do you think?”
Walt grinned and then abruptly waved Danielle over to one side of the bed. “Move over.”
The next moment, they lay side by side on the mattress, leaning back against the headboard.
“You sure are bossy,” Danielle teased.
“Yet you’re the one who threatens to rip cigars out of my hand.”
“You have a point,” Danielle said with a grin.
“So tell me, what did you mean a minute ago when you said Ian surprised you?”
“Since Lucas, I’ve come to the conclusion I really couldn’t be with someone who didn’t innately trust me. I really thought Lily had that with Ian. I’m just surprised he wouldn’t even listen to her. Plus, he saw the proof with his own eyes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that…” Walt muttered as he stared ahead, lost in his own thoughts. After a few moments of silence, he said, “As much as I want to thrash Ian, and as disappointed as you are right now in how he has reacted, perhaps we’re not taking into account Ian’s own experiences and how they’ve shaped his perception.”
With her arms folded across her chest, Danielle glanced over to Walt. “What are you talking about?”
“Ian is more than just an author, he’s an investigative reporter. I would assume to be good at that job, he’d have to be a skeptic—more skeptical than most people. I don’t imagine a gullible person would make a credible investigative reporter.”
Danielle shrugged. “Well, we know he’s good at his job. Considering how well he’s done.”
“Although, I’m a little surprised Ian didn’t take the stance that he believed Lily believed, and then proceeded to help her see the light,” Walt mused.
“According to Lily, it was because he saw the wineglasses floating and was convinced it had to be rigged, and since she was sitting right there, she had to have been in on it.”
“I suppose…” He sighed.
Danielle eyed Walt. “Just a few moments ago you wanted to punch his nose, and now you’re making excuses for Ian.”
Walt shrugged. “I still want to give the palooka a good punch.”
“If he never steps foot in Marlow House again, that isn’t happening. And if Lily is right about Ian, we should expect him to leave Frederickport. After all, Lily was the reason he stayed.”
After a few moments of silence, Walt let out a shout. “No! Sadie!”
“Sadie?”
“He can’t take Sadie with him!”
“I’m sorry, Walt, Sadie is his dog.”
In the next moment, Walt stood by the bed. “Sadie is not just a dog. Sadie is…Sadie!”
Walt began to pace again. “Okay, we have to figure out some way to fix this. To bring Ian and Lily back together and keep Ian and Sadie in Frederickport.”
Danielle sat up on the bed, her eyes on Walt.
“I can only think of one thing.” Walt stopped pacing and stared at Danielle. “I’ll have to talk some sense into Ian. Convince him Lily was telling the truth.”
“Talk to him…how?” When Danielle suddenly realized what he probably meant, she started shaking her head. “Oh no…not a dream hop. No. That’s not going to work. He’ll just think he was dreaming. It won’t prove anything.”
“I have to try, Danielle, and I can be convincing.”
“You did the dream hop once with Ian, when we were in Arizona. He didn’t for a moment imagine it was anything but a dream when he woke up. I don’t see how this will be any different.”
“I have to try, Danielle.”
“But let’s see—” Before Danielle could finish her sentence, Walt vanished. She glanced around the room. He was nowhere in sight.
“Stubborn ghost,” she muttered before letting out a sigh and leaning back against the headboard.
IAN OPENED HIS EYES. To his surprise, he was sitting in the library at Marlow House.
“What the—” Ian started to stand up.
Interrupting what Ian was about to say, Walt said, “Stay where you are. We need to talk.”
Blinking his eyes in confusion, Ian looked across the room and saw Walt Marlow sitting on the sofa, looking at him. Instead of standing up, Ian settled back in the chair and silently studied Walt.
“Good,” Walt said with a nod.
“Ahh, I get it.” Ian laughed. “You’re Walt Marlow. I recognize you. This must mean I’m dreaming.”
“Do you always know when you’re dreaming?” Walt asked.
Ian shrugged. “Not really. Sometimes, I guess.”
Crossing one leg over the opposing knee, Ian glanced around the room. “I suppose I can understand why I’m dreaming about you.”
“And why is that?” Walt asked.
“Probably because I just broke up with Lily, and you’re the cause.”
“Me?” Walt arched his brow. “So you do believe in…spirits.”
“You mean ghosts?”
Not wanting to veer off course and get into a discussion of ghost versus spirit, Walt asked, “If you do believe in us, then why did you break up with Lily?”
“When did I say I believe in ghosts? Spirits maybe, not ghosts.”
“I’m
curious, what is the difference between ghosts and spirits? You say you might believe in one, yet not the other. Personally, I tend to see myself as a spirit.” Walt waved his hand and summoned a cigar.
“I don’t know what happens after we die, but I like to think our spirits—maybe it’s our souls—move on. Not sure I buy the heaven and hell thing, but I’ve a gut feeling there is something more.”
“That seems all fairly accurate,” Walt said before taking a puff.
“Does it?” Ian said with a chuckle. He then sniffed. “There it is. That’s the smell from Marlow House. It comes and goes.”
“It’s from my cigar. When I’m smoking, people nearby can normally smell it.”
“Sure they do,” Ian scoffed.
“You smell it now,” Walt pointed out.
“But I’m dreaming.”
“Do you always notice smells in your dreams?”
Ian shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t remember.”
“So tell me, you’ve explained your notion of spirit, what do you think a ghost is?”
“For one thing, it’s no more than folklore.”
“Folklore?” Walt arched his brow.
“Ghost jump out at people and say boo!”
Walt shook his head and muttered, “I can’t remember ever doing that…well, maybe the boo part.”
“Are you claiming to be a ghost?”
“As I said a moment ago, I prefer to think of myself as a spirit. But if we want to get technical about it, I suppose I am a ghost. As much as I loathe that term.”
“When I looked into the kitchen window of this house, I saw wineglasses floating across the room. A moment later, it was a bottle of wine and a glass. Now, that is something I’d figure a ghost would do. I don’t see a spirit doing something like that. It’s much too…I don’t know, earthy, materialistic. I don’t see a spirit bothering with moving glasses around.”
“Then you must believe in ghosts if you saw the glasses move.”
“No. I believe in parlor tricks, in the art of prestidigitation. Over the years, I’ve witnessed some highly impressive magic acts. Watching those glasses floating across the kitchen was startling, yet nothing that makes me suddenly believe in ghosts.”
“I’m sorry that you feel that way. You’ve hurt a very good woman, one who loves you. Trust me, finding that kind of love is rare and precious.”
“And you don’t think I’m hurting?” Ian snapped. “I was prepared to ask Lily to marry me. I even had the ring.”
“You were going to propose?”
“Yes. At the fireworks after Danielle’s party.”
“Just like that, you have fallen out of love?”
Ian closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Oh, I still love Lily—the woman I thought she was. This other one, the one who makes up elaborate tales, she’s a stranger to me.”
“She didn’t lie.”
Ian opened his eyes and looked at Walt. “Really?”
“Ian, does this feel like a regular dream?”
Ian considered the question a moment and then said, with a smile, “No it doesn’t. But I’ve had dreams like this before. In fact, I had one once very similar to this, and you were in that one too.”
Walt smiled. “That’s because I was actually in that other dream.”
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“Ian, this is not a regular dream. I am the spirit of Walt Marlow, and I’m really here with you.”
“Will I see the Ghost of Christmas Past tonight too?”
“Pay attention, Ian. I’m trying to explain it to you. This is what Danielle calls a dream hop.”
“A dream what?”
With a sigh, Walt said wearily, “Perhaps it would be easier if I started at the beginning.”
“Yes, the beginning. That’s always a good idea,” Ian said with amusement.
Walt’s tale began with his own death, his lonely haunting of Marlow House, and then to when Danielle and Lily moved to Frederickport. He didn’t elaborate on all the paranormal activities of the last year; he focused primarily on his haunting of Marlow House and his friendship with Lily and Danielle. When he was finished, he asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“I think I might have a career in fiction if I decide to change genres,” Ian said dryly.
Walt frowned. “I don’t understand?”
“I didn’t realize I had such a vivid imagination.”
“Are you suggesting everything I told you tonight came from your imagination?”
“I’m thinking getting over Lily is going to be more difficult than I imagined. My subconscious is obviously working overtime trying to create an alternate reality where I can accept Lily’s explanation as the truth. To be honest, I would love to wake up in the morning believing everything Lily told me was true. That there are such things as ghosts. Yes, I wish this really was a dream hop. Because if it’s not, when I wake up in the morning, it will be the same nightmare, one where the Lily I love is no longer in my life.”
Ian disappeared.
“Where did he go?” Walt glanced around. “Damn, something must have woken him up.”
Something had woken Ian up from the dream. It wasn’t Sadie shoving her nose in Ian’s face, telling him to wake up and take her out. It wasn’t his sister returning home late after a date with Joe. What woke him were the tears running down his face.
FOURTEEN
When Kelly went out into the kitchen on Monday morning, she found her brother sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and surfing through the browser on his cellphone.
“Morning. Did Danielle ever get ahold of you yesterday? Is everything alright?”
Still holding his cellphone in one hand, he looked up to Kelly. “Danielle?”
“Yeah. Yesterday she was trying to get ahold of you. You weren’t answering your phone; she came over here. I left a note on the counter before I went out with Joe. Didn’t you see it?”
Ian turned his attention back to the phone. “Yeah, I saw it.”
“So did you talk to her?”
“I know what she wanted. It’s okay.”
Kelly studied Ian for a moment. “You seem kind of grouchy this morning. Did you sleep bad last night?”
“I slept fine aside from a bizarre dream I’d rather forget.”
“Ahh, a nightmare. I hate those.”
“Yeah, I guess it was a nightmare.” Ian sipped his coffee and then set his cup down and looked back to his phone.
Frowning at her brother, whose attention was again focused on the phone’s small display, Kelly poured herself a cup of coffee. When she sat down at the table a moment later, she said, “I’m going to take off in a few minutes. I need to head back to Portland. I have an early appointment, so I’m not going to have time to stop by Marlow House before I leave; would you tell Lily and Danielle bye for me?”
Ian set his phone on the table and looked at Kelly. “I need to tell you something. And I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t start asking me a million questions. I really don’t want to talk about it, and I would appreciate you respect my privacy.”
Pausing mid-sip, Kelly frowned at her brother. “What’s wrong?”
“Lily and I won’t be seeing each other anymore.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. Unable to stop herself, she blurted, “What happened?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Ian took a drink of his coffee.
“But…um…okay…I guess…” She studied her brother a moment. “But when you want to talk, I’m here for you.”
Ian nodded. “I know that.”
Absently fiddling with her coffee cup, Kelly sat silently with her brother for a few minutes.
Ian broke the silence when he added, “You should probably know I’ll be giving notice on this house.”
Kelly frowned. “What do you mean, notice?”
“I’m not staying in Frederickport.”
“Not staying in Frederickport? Are you serious? You love it here!”
&n
bsp; “It’s time for me to move on, Kelly.”
“Ian, would you please not make any rash decisions. I have no idea what’s going on with you and Lily, and I’ll respect your privacy and not besiege you with questions—and trust me, that’s not an easy thing for me to do. But as your sister, someone who loves you very much and wants what’s best for you, I don’t want to see you rush into anything. Please give yourself some time. Step back a moment and regroup. Please. Do it for yourself.”
THE FIRST THING Lily did on Monday morning was take a shower. Afterwards, she dressed casually in yoga pants, an oversized T-shirt, and clipped her red hair atop her head in a messy bundle. Not bothering to slip shoes or slippers on her bare feet, she headed to the kitchen for coffee. There she found Danielle sitting at the table, drinking her second cup.
“Morning, Lily,” Danielle said in a soft voice.
“No need to look at me like that,” Lily said sharply as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “I did my tears yesterday, and now I am over it.” Full cup in hand, Lily marched to the table and sat down.
Reserving comment, Danielle sipped her coffee and silently observed Lily, noting her red-rimmed eyes.
“Is Joanne coming in today?” Lily asked.
“No. She was here yesterday afternoon and got the rooms cleaned. I told her not to bother coming in until Thursday or Friday. Our next round of guests don’t arrive until Friday.”
“Hmm…I must have been in my room. I didn’t even realize she was here.” Lily slumped down in her chair. She had looked far more confident when she had walked into the kitchen a moment earlier.
“When she was here, I told her you were having one of your migraines and was lying down in your room.”
Lily glanced around. “Is Walt here?”
Danielle shook her head. “I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“Has there been any news on Agatha?”
“I haven’t talked to the chief today. I spoke to him on the phone last night. I don’t think he sees this as just a tragic accident. He wants to find out who took Agatha up those stairs.”
“I thought Larry did?” Lily absently fiddled with her coffee cup.