On Danielle’s lap was Max, snuggled beneath the quilt, his black nose and whiskers peeking out from the blanket’s folds.
“What’re you doing out here in the cold?” a familiar voice called out from the direction of the street.
Danielle looked up and smiled. “Happy New Year’s, Chief.” She scooted over in the swing, making room for him. When he sat down, Max reached out with his paw, giving him a swat before retreating back under the quilt.
“Nice to see you too, Max,” MacDonald chuckled.
“Why aren’t you home watching football?”
“Thought I’d stop by, see how Mr. Winston is doing.”
“He’s doing great. They’re all going home in the morning. I’m going to miss them. Well, all but Chris. He’s decided to stay in Frederickport.”
“Really? Is he staying with you?”
“Only until he can find something more permanent. He’s meeting with Adam tomorrow, to see what he has.”
The chief leaned back in the swing and looked across the street. His foot moved in unison with Danielle’s, keeping the swing in motion. “I don’t imagine Joe’s going to be thrilled with that.”
“Joe? What does Joe have to do with it?”
“For some reason, he feels responsible for you. Doesn’t seem to like this Chris character, especially when he found out he was using an alias, and after what Brian overheard at the diner. And then of course, we have your missing guest, who remains MIA.”
“Actually,” Danielle said with a sigh. “I can explain all that.”
“You can?”
“I know now what happened to Anna—well, at least I have an idea. I can tell you, but of course it’s not something I can tell Joe, so I imagine he’ll continue having his suspicions.”
“Are you saying this has something to do with…ghosts?”
Danielle nodded and then proceeded to tell the chief the truth about Anna—and Chris—and what had happened over the last two weeks. When she was done telling her story, neither one said anything, but sat quietly on the swing, pushing it to and fro.
“Do you really believe this Anna was the spirit Trudy, who Chris claimed to have seen?” the chief finally asked.
“You never saw Anna, Chief. But those pictures Patricia showed us of her mother—even a dress she was wearing in one, was identical to what Anna wore on Christmas.”
“So now spirits can take the solid form of a living person?”
Danielle shrugged. “I think Walt—or Chris—can’t remember which one, said something about Anna appearing in a flesh and blood form. But maybe she didn’t. It could be her energy creating the illusion, like with Walt. Just in this case, everyone could see her. Maybe it’s no different than Darlene. Just that her appearance lasted longer.”
“Darlene? What does this have to do with Darlene?”
“Lily can’t normally see spirits, but she saw Darlene. And by the way, so did Adam Nichols. I don’t think Darlene has moved on. I think she’s haunting Pilgrim’s Point.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t think Adam said anything to the cops when they showed up the other night after the accident. But Adam told me he saw a woman standing by Richard—she looked just like Darlene. And then she disappeared. I think Darlene may have pulled Richard out of his car.”
“Everyone seems to be seeing ghosts…even Evan,” the chief grumbled.
“Your son? Did you talk to him about what I told you?”
“Oh yeah…” the chief sighed.
“What happened?”
“I told the boys I knew one of them threw a toy truck at a woman in our house—and that I wanted to talk to the guilty party—privately. I lied, told them I already knew which one had done it, but I wanted the guilty one to fess up and if he did, he wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“And that worked?”
“Yeah. I’m a cop, remember? I scare people. Especially little boys.”
Danielle laughed. “You bully.”
“Actually, I felt like crap. The poor kid, seeing some woman just appear like that.”
“He told you?”
“Yeah. Later that night, Evan came into my room. Told me he did it, but that she had scared him. Said it always scares him when they show up like that.”
“They?”
MacDonald closed his eyes and leaned back. “Yep.”
“Oh my…Evan is like me and Chris.”
MacDonald opened his eyes and turned to Danielle. “The real reason I stopped by, I wanted to know if you’d help me with Evan. I don’t want this to mess the poor kid up.”
“Like it did with me?”
“I think you turned out okay.”
Danielle removed the elastic band from her braid and tossed it onto the bedroom dresser. She stared into the mirror and combed her fingers through her hair, unbraiding it. When it was fairly smooth, she picked up her brush.
After Danielle pulled the brush through her hair, Walt appeared and asked, “A hundred strokes.”
“Excuse me?” Danielle stopped brushing and looked at Walt.
“Don’t women give their hair a hundred strokes each night to keep it beautiful?”
Danielle grinned mischievously. “I read somewhere the real reason women used to do that was to get rid of lice.”
Walt frowned. “You certainly do know how to ruin a lovely picture.”
Danielle grinned and started brushing her hair again.
“Now when I see you brushing your hair I’m going to be thinking of lice crawling out of your scalp!”
“Ewww, gross!” Danielle tossed the brush on the dresser and headed for bed.
“Yes, but you started it. I was being nice.”
“True. I can be a brat.” Danielle climbed into bed and scooted to one side so Walt could sit next to her.
“Yes, you can.” He sat on the edge of the mattress and watched as Danielle snuggled down under the bedding, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
“It’ll seem a little quiet around here after tomorrow,” Walt said.
“I know. Of course, Chris’ll still be here.”
“Downstairs.”
Danielle grinned. “Sometimes I think you think you’re my dad.”
“Hardly. I’m three years younger than you,” Walt reminded.
“Now I really feel old!”
Walt chuckled. He then asked, “Do you think Richard will ever go back to using his real name?”
“I don’t know; I wondered that myself.”
“If you think about it, all these years he’s been using the name of his adoptive parent’s first child.”
“I know…a dead child’s name.” Danielle yawned.
Walt quietly watched as Danielle closed her eyes.
“I had a nice Christmas.” Danielle yawned again. “And it was wonderful seeing Richard and Patricia find each other, but can I tell you a secret?”
“Certainly, you can tell me anything,” Walt said, his tone no longer teasing.
“It made me really miss my family. It’s hardest at Christmastime. I miss my mom and dad so much. I even miss Cheryl.”
“I’m sorry Danielle.”
“Oh, I guess that’s life—and death.”
“I haven’t given you you’re Christmas present yet,” Walt told her.
“Christmas? Christmas is over.” Once again, Danielle yawned.
“Remember, I told you, Christmas isn’t over until the fifth of January.”
“Okay,” Danielle murmured, already half-asleep. “Night Walt…”
She heard carolers in the distance singing Jingle Bells. Opening her eyes, Danielle stood in the middle of a snow-covered field. The only clouds in the blue sky were white and puffy. Stretching out before her were two rows of Christmas trees, reminding her in some bizarre way of Oz’s yellow brick road. Instead of yellow bricks creating a road, the path wound through two rows of pine trees, their branches dripping with red and gold glass balls.
In spite of the snow,
it wasn’t cold, which was a good thing since she was only dressed in black leggings, boots, and an oversized Christmas sweater, sporting a felt patchwork rendition of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.
Wondering where she was, she glanced around and was about to shout hello, is anyone here, when Walt appeared. He wore what he typically wore when not dream hopping, a suit circa 1920.
“Walt, where are we?”
“I’m here to give you your Christmas present.” He took her hand and began leading her down the path, between the two rows of Christmas trees.
“Are you taking me to meet Santa? To the North Pole?”
“No. Something better.”
“Better than meeting Santa?” Danielle teased.
“I think you’ll like this better.” He squeezed her hand. “By the way, I understand now how Trudy came for Christmas as Anna.”
“How?”
“Christmas magic.”
“Christmas magic?” she asked.
“Yes, Danielle. Can’t you feel it? Christmas is a magical time, and if you have faith, anything is possible.”
In the next moment, the snow turned to pavement and the Christmas trees disappeared. She stood on the sidewalk in front of a familiar ranch style house. A Christmas wreath hung on its front door.
“My house!” Danielle cried out. “That’s where I grew up!” Excited, she looked up and down the street. It was just as she remembered.
“Come Danielle, they’re waiting.” Walt led her by the hand, up the walkway to the front door of the house she had once lived in.
“Who’s waiting?”
“You’ll see.” Walt squeezed her hand again.
In the next moment, the house’s front door opened and Walt gently pushed her inside. The scent of pine and peppermint filled her head. Once again, she could hear the faint sound of Christmas carols, but this time it sounded as if it was coming from the radio. Instead of Jingle Bells, it was Bing Crosby singing I’ll be Home for Christmas.
Standing in the entry hall of the house she had grown up in, she turned around, looking for Walt. But he was gone, and the front door was closed.
“Walt?” she called out.
“Danielle! We’ve been waiting for you!” a woman’s voice called out. Danielle turned and came face to face with her mother. Mrs. Boatman wore her Christmas apron over jeans and a T-shirt. In her hand she held Danielle’s Santa apron. She handed it to Danielle and said, “Dear, put your apron on!”
“Mom?” Danielle whispered.
“Is that my little girl?” a man’s voice boomed.
In the next moment, Danielle found herself wrapped in her father’s strong arms. His bear hug was soon replaced by her mother’s more tender embrace. Closing her eyes, Danielle caught a whiff of Diva, her mother’s favorite perfume. She breathed deeply, savoring the fragrance.
“Danielle’s here!” another voice shouted.
“They’re anxious to see you,” her mother whispered, breaking away from the embrace.
With tear-filled eyes, Danielle turned to the new voices—it was her Aunt Susan, Uncle Carl, and Cousin Sean. They were all wearing their Christmas aprons, the ones she had brought home from Cheryl’s. Everyone was talking at once. They led her into the kitchen where a roasted turkey rested on a cutting board, waiting to be carved. On the kitchen table were bowls and platters filled with her favorite holiday foods.
“After dinner Cheryl wants to make graham cracker houses,” her mother told her.
“Cheryl, look who’s here!” Uncle Carl shouted.
Danielle turned and came face to face with her cousin Cheryl. To Danielle’s surprise, Cheryl hadn’t changed—she still wore too much make up, and her blouse revealed a bit too much cleavage, yet Danielle thought she looked wonderful.
Blue eyes twinkling, Cheryl opened her arms. Danielle laughed and threw her arms around her cousin. The two women hugged. “We miss you Dani Boo,” Cheryl whispered. “Someday we’ll all be together again, but for now, enjoy your life. You have a long one ahead of you. Merry Christmas.”
The Ghost of Valentine Past
* * *
Revisit Marlow House in
The Ghost of Valentine Past
Haunting Danielle, Book 7
* * *
A romantic weekend at Marlow House Bed and Breakfast turns deadly when Earthbound Spirits founder, Peter Morris, is murdered. Plenty of people had a reason to want the man dead—especially Danielle’s current guests.
* * *
But it isn’t Morris’ ghost distracting Danielle on this deadly Valentine’s Day weekend, it’s her late husband Lucas. She has her hands full with suitors coming from all directions—both living and dead—while she tries to figure out if there’s a killer in Marlow House.
Haunting Danielle Series
by Bobbi Holmes
The Ghost of Marlow House, Book 1
The Ghost Who Loved Diamonds, Book 2
The Ghost Who Wasn’t, Book 3
The Ghost Who Wanted Revenge, Book 4
The Ghost of Halloween Past, Book 5
The Ghost Who Came for Christmas, Book 6
The Ghost of Valentine Past, Book 7
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Bobbi Holmes
Also known as Anna J. McIntyre
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Unlocked Hearts Series
by Anna J. McIntyre
Sundered Hearts
After Sundown
Sugar Rush
While Snowbound
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The Coulson Series
by Anna J. McIntyre
Coulson’s Wife
Coulson’s Crucible
Coulson’s Lessons
Coulson’s Secret
Coulson’s Reckoning
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Also by Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes
Havasu Palms, A Hostile Takeover
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Ghost Who Came for Christmas Page 27