by Bobbi Holmes
“You didn’t have to grab my wrist so hard.”
“Don’t be such a baby.” Hunter leaned back on the sofa and looked around the room. “I didn’t see his car parked out front when we drove up. Did you notice a cop car on the street?”
“I wasn’t paying any attention.”
“I’d think you’d notice a cop car!”
“Well you didn’t notice one either!”
“Yeah well, I was looking for this house and driving. You were just sitting there. The least you could do is pay attention to the area. From what I remember, there were a couple cars parked up the street at the neighbors. Maybe one was a cop car.”
“So why do you think he was here?” Claire asked.
“I just hope she’s not sleeping with the guy. We don’t need him hanging around here.”
“She called him Sargent Morelli. Didn’t call him by his first name,” Claire reminded him.
“That doesn’t mean anything. We just don’t need a cop nosing around.”
“So what do we do now? Do we start—”
Hunter grabbed Claire’s wrist, giving it a squeeze. “Quiet!
Claire jerked her hand from him. “Stop doing that! You’re going to bruise me.”
Hunter took a deep breath then asked, “Do you smell that?”
Claire sniffed the air. “Smells like someone was smoking in here. I hope that means we can smoke in our room. I’m getting tired of having to go outside to have a cigarette.”
Hunter stood up and closed his eyes. “Someone is here with us…”
“What?” Claire sat up straight and stared at Hunter. “Who’s here?”
“I feel a presence…”
“I hate it when you do that. Freaks me out.”
“No reason to be afraid, Claire. He’s here to help us.”
“It’s a he?” Claire anxiously watched Hunter, who walked around the room, his arms stretched outward, as if he was trying to touch something.
“Whoever it is, he’s been here a long time…”
“Are you telling me this old house is haunted?” Claire warily glanced around.
“Are you surprised?” Hunter stopped walking and looked at Claire. “Didn’t I tell you a man killed himself in the attic? I bet it’s him.”
“The dead guy? He’s still here?” Claire jumped up.
“Yes, I’m certain it’s him. From what I remember in the article, his last name was Marlow, like the house.”
“And his first name?”
“First name? I don’t remember …” Hunter closed his eyes and said, “Spirit, tell me your name.”
Hunter stood there a few minutes, his eyes closed, saying nothing as Claire watched. Finally, he opened his eyes and said, “Marvin. His name is Marvin. Marvin Marlow.”
“Marvin Marlow? That’s kind of a dorky name.”
“Please Claire, you’re going to offend the spirit and we need his help!”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Claire sat back down on the sofa.
“According to what I read about this place, Marvin Marlow’s death was ruled a suicide, he hung himself in the attic. But the current owner, Danielle Boatman, has been telling the story that he was murdered.”
“You mean he was murdered; he didn’t kill himself?”
“No.” Hunter shook his head. “Marvin Marlow killed himself. That’s why his spirit is so conflicted—why he’s trapped here.”
“You said he was going to help us?”
“Yes, Claire. He’s going to be our guide.”
* * *
When Danielle returned to the library, she found Walt leaning casually against the edge of the desk, smoking a thin cigar, watching the Stewarts. Sitting next to him on the desktop was Lily, her ankles casually crossed.
“You have a couple winners here,” Walt said with a chuckle when Danielle walked into the room.
“Walt’s right, Dani. I don’t think you should let them stay,” Lily said.
Trying to ignore Walt and Lily, she smiled at her guests. “Your room is ready. Would you like to go up now and see it?”
Claire started to stand up, but Hunter motioned for her to sit down. He turned to Danielle and said, “Ms. Boatman, I think there is something you need to know about your house.”
“Yes, Mr. Stewart? What’s that?”
“It’s inhabited by a spirit—a very troubled spirit,” Hunter said in a serious tone.
“A spirit?” Danielle glanced over to Walt who responded with a shrug.
“I told you; you shouldn’t let them stay,” Lily said.
“Do you understand what I’m saying Ms. Boatman?”
“Not really. When you say spirit, what exactly do you mean?”
“In layman’s terms Ms. Boatman, your house is haunted. You are sharing your home with a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Danielle’s eyes darted to Walt and Lily, and back to Hunter.
“Oh, don’t be afraid, Ms. Boatman,” Claire said, standing up. “Hu…I mean Hank knows all about spirits and stuff…he’s gifted.”
“Really?” Danielle raised her brow. “And you say this house is haunted?”
“Yes, but there is no reason to worry. As soon as we give the spirit what he needs, he’ll be able to leave, to move on. I can help you do that. It’s what I do.”
“You mean, like Ghostbusters?” Danielle couldn’t help but giggle.
“You know I hate the word ghost,” Walt scolded.
“Please Ms. Boatman, don’t make light of the situation.”
“I’m not…really…I am just surprised,” Danielle said, suppressing more giggles. “Where is this ghost right now, do you know?”
“Why, he is over there,” Hunter said as he pointed to Walt and Lily.
No longer finding humor in the situation, Danielle cleared her throat and asked, “Are you telling me you can see him?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Hunter said with a laugh. “People can’t actually see spirits. That’s a bunch of media hype. When communicating with spirits, it’s on a different level, something I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I say it’s a lucky guess,” Walt said. “He smelled the cigar smoke.”
Silently, Danielle considered Walt’s suggestion before asking, “Mr. Stewart, is there just one spirit, or do you think there could be more than one?”
“More than one? Why would you think that? Did someone else die in this house?” Hunter asked.
“No…not that I know of…I was just curious…umm…you mentioned you could get rid of the spirit, exactly how do you do something like that?”
“First, you need to stop spreading lies about him,” Hunter explained.
“Lies?”
“I read your brochure on Marlow House. You wrote about how one of the previous owners died in the attic. You claimed it was murder and not a suicide.”
“Yes, that’s true. At the time it happened, the police assumed it was suicide. But I did some research and discovered he was murdered.”
“No, Ms. Boatman, he killed himself. He wasn’t murdered. I can understand that the story of a murder might be more titillating for your brochure, the mystery and all. But he needs the truth to come out. He wants people to know he killed himself.”
Danielle looked at Walt and said, “He does, does he?”
“Is that true Walt?” Lily asked with a laugh. “You have to admit, this guy is amusing…and somewhat creepy.”
Walt shrugged. “I told you they were winners. The guy gets a whiff of my cigar smoke and he takes off on some wild tangent.”
“But what about the other thing, Walt?” Lily asked.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong, Mr. Steward. Walt Marlow was murdered in the attic. In fact his autopsy verifies that.”
“Walt Marlow? It wasn’t Walt Marlow who died in the attic, it was Marvin Marlow.”
“Marvin Marlow?” Danielle frowned.
“Yes, Marvin Marlow. The man you wrote about in your brochure.”
“No, his
name was Walt Marlow. You must have confused the Walt Marlow story with someone else’s.”
“Not unless two men died in your attic,” Hunter insisted. “Marvin must have been his nickname. Or perhaps it was his given name, and he went by Walt.”
“Where exactly did you get the name Marvin?”
“The ghost told him,” Claire spoke up.
“The ghost told him?” Danielle asked, glancing from Claire to Hunter.
“Yes. The minute we walked in here Hank could feel the ghost. He’s gifted. When he asked the ghost for his name, he told him. I know it’s hard to believe, but my husband is always doing this sort of thing.”
“This is where it gets kinda weird, Dani,” Lily said. “Tell her Walt."
“I was just kidding around,” Walt insisted. “I had no idea he could hear me. When he asked me what my name was, I just said…Marvin.”
Chapter Twelve
After Danielle showed the Stewarts to their room, she went back down stairs and shut herself in the parlor with Walt and Lily.
“You told him your name was Marvin, and he heard you?” Danielle asked after she shut the door.
“I don’t know if he heard me. It could have been a coincidence.” He paced the room, a lit cigar in his hand.
“Yeah…right.” Danielle sat down on the couch and looked at Walt.
“It was just weird,” Lily said as she sat on the sofa next to Danielle. “When they first walked in the house I got the yuckiest feeling. Bad feng shui.”
“Not thrilled he seems to have some sort of psychic powers. He actually started talking to you guys, asking for names?”
“He was talking to Walt—not me!”
“I still say it is some strange coincidence,” Walt insisted.
“Tell me what happened, Lily,” Danielle said.
“After you left them in the library, they started talking about Joe. They didn’t seem too thrilled to be greeted by a cop. I don’t get a good feeling about them Dani. Maybe you should ask them to leave.”
“A lot of people feel intimidated around the police. I got the impression they were concerned there was a problem, like Joe was here because I called him about a break in or something.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Lily shook her head. “But then Walt lit up his cigar and that Hank dude immediately noticed.”
“Everyone can smell the smoke,” Walt reminded.
“Which is why you probably shouldn’t smoke around the guests,” Danielle said.
“Smoking is one of my remaining pleasures. As it is, I agreed not to smoke in your room. But ban the library? I think not.”
“After he smelled the smoke,” Lily continued. “The guy started telling his wife that he felt a presence, that there was a spirit in the room. And then he went on to say it was the guy who died in the attic. He remembered Walt’s last name by something he’d read about the house but couldn’t remember his first name, so he asked.”
“It was amusing. The way he walked around the room as if going into some trance. He started asking me to give him my name. So, well I said Marvin.”
“Marvin?”
“I certainly didn’t expect him to hear me. Still not sure if that’s what really happened.”
“He must have some psychic powers if he picked up on that name,” Danielle said.
“I don’t know, Dani.” Lily shook her head. “I’ll confess I was stunned when he told his wife the spirit’s name was Marvin, right after Walt said it. But then all that other stuff he said was just plain goofy and not even close to the truth.”
“What do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“He started saying Walt was stuck here because he really had committed suicide, and that Walt wanted Hank to help him.”
“You mean Marvin,” Danielle snickered.
“There was also that other thing,” Walt recalled. “He told his wife I was going to be his guide. Just exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“I suppose we should go hang out in his room and see what else we can learn,” Lily suggested.
“No. Neither of you are to go into their bedroom.”
“Why?” Lily asked.
“Do I have to remind you, they are here on their honeymoon? They may be odd—and he probably has some psychic power, although I don’t think it’s as strong as he thinks—but they deserve their privacy.”
“Oh yeah, it is their honeymoon. I really don’t wanna watch that.” Lily shuddered.
“It may be their honeymoon, but I think I should keep an eye on them,” Walt said.
“That’s fine, but just don’t do it when they’re in their bedroom with the door closed.”
“Maybe you should have Joe run a check on them,” Lily suggested. “I really don’t get a good vibe. The moment they walked in the house a shiver went up my spine.”
“Oh yeah, like I’m going to ask Joe for a favor! And considering his lecture earlier today about not letting strangers in this house, I don’t think I want to go there.”
“I suppose it will be okay, with Walt here. I’m afraid I won’t be of any help.”
“Perhaps it’s a good sign he didn’t sense your presence,” Danielle suggested. “Might be another indication you’re having an out of body experience. If he has limited psychic powers, he probably can’t pick up on you.”
Danielle abruptly turned her attention to Walt and said, “I almost forgot, what happened with Isabella?”
“It didn’t work,” Lily said sadly.
“I drew a total blank. Maybe it only works after I’ve seen someone in person. I can try again later if you’d like.”
“It’s too bad you can’t move around like Cheryl did,” Lily said sadly. “That way you could just go to where she is.”
“I’m sorry Lily. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to wander at will like Cheryl did.”
“Maybe I could slip into Isabella’s dream and talk to her. Do you think that might be possible?” Lily suggested. “I’m pretty sure I can get to her house easily. After all, I did get here from California.”
Walt considered the idea for a moment. “I don’t know. You haven’t been able to harness your energy to move objects. But then, if you really are still alive and experiencing some out of body experience, perhaps it’s impossible for you to harness your energy in that way. However, going into someone’s dream takes a different level of concentration so maybe it is possible.”
“You think I can do it?”
“Perhaps,” Walt murmured.
“I say give it a try,” Danielle said.
“Okay, I’m going to!”
“When, now?” Danielle asked.
Lily considered the question a moment. “I don’t want to rush this…”
“Do you really think you should be wasting time, considering everything?” Walt asked.
“It’s just that I need to think about what I want to ask her. And I thought, maybe you could go over the whole thing with me again. You know, what I might expect, how to talk to her.”
“Fine,” Walt agreed.
“I know this sounds crazy, but do you think you could drive me over there, Dani, in the morning? I don’t remember exactly how I got here from California, and well, if I just take off by myself I’m not sure I’ll actually get to where I need to go.”
“Sure, after I serve the Stewarts their breakfast. I could drop you off on my way to Marie’s.”
“You’re going to Marie’s tomorrow?” Lily asked.
“I promised her last week, before I made the Stewart reservation, that I’d stop by before noon on Saturday. When Adam was cleaning out her attic, he found more pictures of Brianna. She wants to give them to me.”
“I forgot about the Stewards. Are you sure you want to leave them alone in the house?” Lily asked.
“Walt will be here. I’m not worried about it.”
* * *
Joe Morelli sat at his desk going over some reports when Brian Henderson walked into the office. Looking up, Joe set
his pen on the desktop and asked, “When did you get back from Portland?”
“About ten minutes ago.” Brian sat down in one of the two chairs facing Joe. Dressed in his police uniform, Brian removed his cap and tossed it on the empty chair next to him. “Did I miss anything exciting today?”
“Not really. But I stopped by Danielle’s.”
“How’s the crazy Miss Boatman doing?”
“Come on Brian, she just lost her best friend.” Joe leaned back in his chair.
“Sorry. I guess that wasn’t called for, considering the circumstance. How is she doing?” Brian was much older than Joe—old enough to be the younger officer’s father.
“She’s in denial,” Joe said with a sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s doesn’t think it was Lily in the car accident.”
“Didn’t they already make a positive identification?”
“Apparently not. There was some mix up with the dental records.”
“If it wasn’t Lily in the car—then where does Boatman think Lily went? Doesn’t she think it is a little odd that she’s simply dropped out of sight—at the same time her car is involved in a fatal car crash, with a female victim?”
“I didn’t say she was being rational. I said she was in denial.”
“Rational does not seem to be Boatman’s strong suit.”
“Come on Brian, that’s not fair.”
“Oh please, Joe. I know you have a thing for the woman. Something I don’t understand. I know she’s attractive, but hell, the woman is a fruitcake.”
“You don’t know her like I do. She’s really very sweet and bright.”
“And she talks to imaginary people and has a violent streak.”
“Clarence was trying to kill her. I can understand how she reacted in the heat of the moment.”
“She also has impulse control issues. Need I remind you of her cousin’s suitcase? You don’t need a woman who throws a tantrum every time things don’t go her way. Not unless you don’t mind a girlfriend who gets pissed and then burns your clothes.”
“Even if I wanted to start dating her again, that won’t happen. She’s made it perfectly clear she can’t forgive me for believing she had something to do with her cousin’s death.”