The Ghost and the Bride

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “The man in that bed took my life!” he roared. “I want it back!”

  “You can’t have it back. It doesn’t work that way,” Danielle insisted.

  “You know nothing,” he snapped.

  Walt spoke up, his voice stern. “There is no reason to talk to Danielle like that. She certainly has done nothing to you. If anything, she wants to help you.”

  The spirit turned his glare to Walt. “And just how does she think she can help me?”

  “For one thing, she can help you come to terms with your death. Help you move on to the next level.”

  “I have no desire to move on to the next level.”

  “Do you want to hurt Kent?” Danielle asked him. “Because even if you could do something to him—which I doubt you could—it would just make everything more difficult for you. Please don’t blame him for something he had no control of.”

  The spirit turned to her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You know nothing about that man sleeping under your roof. You have no idea what he is capable of, what he is plotting.”

  “Plotting?” Danielle frowned. “What do you know?”

  “Like I said, you can’t help me. Just stay out of it. Stay away from me—and from him.” In the next moment the spirit vanished.

  “Do you think he’s gone to Kent’s room?” Danielle asked in a panic. “You don’t think he’s capable of harnessing energy, do you?”

  Walt shook his head. “I seriously doubt it. If he’s been wandering around—from here to Chris’s office and back again, I don’t imagine he has any energy left to do any serious damage. But I’ll go check Kent’s room.”

  Walt vanished. The next moment he was in the downstairs bedroom. He found the spirit there, standing over the bed, staring down at the sleeping man. The moment the spirit noticed Walt, he moved toward the window facing the street and disappeared.

  Walt lingered in the downstairs bedroom for a few moments and then returned to the library after first checking the rest of the house.

  “Where is he?” Danielle asked.

  “He was in the bedroom. Just standing there over the bed, staring. He left when he saw me. I checked the house, I can’t find him. I suspect he went outside. When he disappeared in the bedroom, he was moving toward the window.”

  “What am I going to do? I don’t want to say anything to Lily. This is supposed to be her week. She shouldn’t be worrying about troublesome ghosts right now.”

  “True, which is why I wondered why she took her family over to Chris’s office to see where she had been kept. Not the most cheerful outing for the wedding party.” Walt flicked an ash off his cigar. It disappeared before hitting the ground.

  “I know. But it was the first opportunity she had to show her family, and I guess it has been an issue for her mother. Lily thought it would help her mother let go of those thoughts.”

  Walt shrugged. “Perhaps. As for this problem, there is only one thing you can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Find out whatever you can about the other men who died in that accident.”

  Fifteen

  Eva Thorndike had grown up under the influence of the Gibson Girl. It was no coincidence that she resembled the fictional character. Eva devotedly emulated Charles Dana Gibson’s creation, even assuming the same facial expressions, dress, and hairstyle. The character was, after all, considered to be the ideal woman in appearance and mannerisms.

  Years after Eva’s death, people viewing her portrait would often mistake her for the famous icon. Eva would have preferred people remark that the Gibson Girl resembled her, not the other way around. However, the Gibson Girl was technically born before Eva, and Eva had died before obtaining the fame due her, which meant for eternity she would take second place to a man’s drawing.

  It had been almost a century since she had died. Moving on had never been a consideration for Eva. She had died far too young, at the prime of her career. Unfortunately, few people remembered the stars from the silent screen era. Had she lived just another few years to perform in talkies, she had no doubt they would have preserved her memory for generations to come. Unlike other silent screen actresses of her time, she didn’t doubt she would have seamlessly made the transition, becoming an even bigger star. After all, she had spent most of her short life on stage. Audiences had adored her.

  These days, Eva’s favorite haunts included movie theatres. She could spend days and weeks watching movies, often viewing the same movie hundreds of times. Occasionally, she entertained the idea of selecting a permanent haunt, thus enabling her to utilize her energy for showy theatrics—such as opening and closing doors or sending the curtains fluttering. But then she realized she probably would not get credit for the haunting—so what would be the point?

  When homesick, Eva would haunt the Frederickport Museum. There she could visit her portrait and eavesdrop on what visitors had to say about her. Danielle Boatman moving to town had made her visits to the museum more interesting. Danielle was one of those few people who could see and hear earthbound spirits. Sometimes it was enjoyable to have a person to talk to—Eva missed that.

  Unfortunately, Eva had no idea when Danielle might happen to stop at the museum for a visit. One option was to drop by Marlow House to see Danielle, which she wouldn’t do. Since Walt’s murder, Eva had avoided Marlow House. When alive, Walt had been hopelessly in love with her. While she adored Walt, eternity was a long time, and she had no desire to have a lovesick spirit following her around—not even Walt.

  Eva had heard some rumbling in the spirit world that Walt had developed close feelings for Danielle. If true, it only proved to Eva that Walt had a penchant for falling for the wrong woman—especially when factoring his wife, Angela, into the equation.

  When the urge to have a conversation hit Eva, one option was a visit to a cemetery. There were always a few souls who continued to linger on this plane. She used to stop at the Frederickport cemetery before Angela Marlow had been buried there. But now that Angela was trapped at the cemetery, she had no desire to see her. While they had never met during life, they had met on the other side. It was not pleasant, and Eva had no desire to see the troublesome spirit again.

  Fortunately for Eva, Frederickport was not the only cemetery in the area. She knew a few souls who lingered at the Silverton Cemetery, and for a spirit like Eva, Silverton was a relatively short jaunt.

  When Eva arrived at the Silverton Cemetery, there were no people in sight save for a young woman sitting by a grave. Headstones dotted the lush green lawns while an occasional tree provided shade. Overhead, the bright blue summer sky showed no sign of rain, and a gentle breeze rustled the treetops.

  At first glance Eva didn’t see anyone but the woman, yet after taking a second look, she noticed a spirit sitting atop a massive headstone not far from the mourner. She recognized him—Ramone Cavalier, an actor.

  The moment Ramone spied Eva approaching, he leapt off the headstone and then, with a dramatic bow, sent the scarlet cape he wore to one side in a flourish. “Eva, my darling! How wonderful it is to see you!” Still handsome after nearly eighty years of death, he wore his black hair parted in the middle, and the tips of his handlebar mustache curled up at its ends. While Ramone had never made it to the big screen, he and Eva had been on stage together numerous times.

  Extending her hand as Ramone raised his head up from the bow, she watched as he accepted the offering and reverently dropped a kiss on the back of her hand. “Lovely as always, my dear!”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d find you here today. So nice to see you!” Eva greeted him and then turned to the woman who was sitting by a grave.

  “I’m so glad you decided to stop in for a visit! It has been quite dull here as of late. Makes a spirit consider moving to the other side,” he said.

  Eva nodded to the woman. “What’s her story? Is she a regular?”

  Ramone looked down at the woman in question. “She’s been coming around for quite a while now
. How long exactly, I’m not sure. Time has a way of getting away from me here. But she always visits the same grave.”

  Eva walked over to the headstone and read its inscription. “Died about a year ago, I see. What was he to her, do you know? Lover, husband?”

  “I’m fairly certain lover. I do recall a bit of a rant she went on not long after they planted him. Cursing him for not marrying her before he got himself killed.”

  “Lovely,” she said dryly. “I don’t see his spirit lingering. Did her marriage rant send him off to the other side?”

  Ramone shook his head. “No. The man never showed up. I suspect he moved on before his funeral. Probably for the best considering how angry she was at him.”

  “I wonder how he died. By the dates, he was a rather young man,” Eva muttered.

  “Car accident. The woman’s name is Felicia, by the way. At his funeral…” He nodded to the grave. “His parents called her Felicia—among other names that I don’t believe are suitable for mixed company. She had a bit of a row with them.”

  Eva eyed the woman curiously. “Ahh, so the parents didn’t like their son’s girlfriend. I wonder what she’s thinking. She’s just sitting there, staring.”

  “Gathering her thoughts, I suspect.” He shrugged.

  As if on cue, the woman began to talk. “He called me again. He’s here, in Frederickport. He did this to us. Him and his wife. I blame her as much as I do him.”

  “Oh my, this is getting interesting,” Eva said with a smile. “I do enjoy a good melodrama. And what an interesting setting, Frederickport.”

  “Weren’t you from Frederickport?” Ramone asked.

  “Technically, no. Although I spent some wonderful years there, and it is where I passed.”

  “He wants to see me,” Felicia said before letting out a bitter laugh. “Of course he doesn’t want his wife to know about it.”

  Eva shook her head and said a few tsk, tsk, tsks before adding, “They never want their wives to know.”

  “I feel a little sorry for her,” Ramone said. “She thinks she’s talking to him, yet as far as I know, he’s never been around to hear her.”

  “Don’t they say we can sometimes hear what’s going on from the other side? Maybe he does hear her,” Eva suggested.

  Ramone shrugged. “I know that’s what they say, but I’ve got a feeling this guy isn’t listening to her. He doesn’t sound especially charming, not after hearing her reminisce about their good ol’ days. And frankly, she’s a piece of work herself, if you ask me.”

  “What’s wrong with her? She’s quite attractive—above average.”

  “Eva darling, you were in the business long enough to appreciate that sometimes no amount of beauty can compensate for a dark soul.”

  Eva let out a sigh. “I suspect you’re referring to my ex-husband?”

  “Prime example.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” Felicia said. “You want to hear something really ironic? He’s staying at Marlow House! Marlow House! I’m not sure exactly how, but he’s connected with that witch who owns the place, Danielle Boatman. After what Boatman did to my brother, I have a score to settle with her too! Maybe I should take care of both of them!” she shouted.

  Just then a car pulled up to the nearby parking area. Felicia looked up and watched as two people got out of the now parked vehicle and walked toward her, one carrying a bouquet of flowers.

  “Are they with her?” Eva asked.

  Ramone frowned and studied the couple. “I don’t believe so. I think they belong to that grave.” He pointed to a headstone about twenty feet away from the woman.

  “She’s suddenly gotten quiet,” Eva murmured. “Which is a shame, I wanted to hear what else she had to say. I actually know Danielle Boatman.”

  “The way the woman was talking, I assumed Danielle Boatman was alive,” he said.

  “Oh, she is. She’s one of those rare people who can see and hear people like us.”

  “Interesting,” he muttered. “And Marlow, didn’t you have a friend by that name?”

  “Yes. A childhood friend. Walt Marlow. His grandfather was Frederick Marlow.”

  “Ahh yes, I remember now! Is he connected to this Marlow House she mentioned?”

  “It was his home. From what I understand, she runs it as an inn now.” Eva studied the woman. “I do wish those people would move on. I’d like to hear more.”

  The two people who had arrived moments earlier now stood over a nearby grave, hand in hand. The woman released the man’s hand briefly and leaned over, placing the flowers they had brought by the base of the headstone.

  Felicia stood up.

  “It looks as if she’s leaving,” Ramone said. “I don’t think she’s going to say anything else. At least, not as long as that couple is standing nearby.”

  Eva let out a sigh. “What a shame.”

  Eva and Ramone watched as Felicia blew her boyfriend’s grave a kiss and then turned and started walking toward the parking area.

  “She has talked about Marlow House before,” Ramone told Eva as they watched Felicia walk away.

  “Really? What did she say?” Eva’s eyes remained on Felicia.

  “That Danielle Boatman she mentioned—”

  “Yes, the one who can see spirits,” Eva said.

  “Felicia’s brother was involved in dog fighting,” he began.

  “Dog fighting! Deplorable!” Eva gasped.

  “From what I overheard, your Danielle Boatman somehow got her brother arrested for dog fighting. He’s in jail now.”

  “Where he obviously belongs!” Eva said.

  “I agree. Apparently, his sister does not. She used to work alongside her brother—in the dog fighting. As guilty as him, if you ask me.”

  Glaring at the departing woman, Eva said, “She doesn’t just have a black soul, it’s rotted!”

  Just as the woman stepped on the blacktop, Eva looked at Ramone and said in a rush, “I wish I could stay and visit for a while, but I feel I owe it to Danielle to see what this one is up to.” Eva disappeared, leaving a trail of mist—visible to only someone like Ramone or Danielle—leading from the cemetery to what appeared to be Felicia’s car.

  Sixteen

  The urgency to discover more about the two men who had died in Kent’s accident lessened when the mystery ghost failed to make an appearance on Sunday morning. When the afternoon rolled around, Danielle nudged thoughts of the ghost from her mind so that she could enjoy the day.

  Sunday afternoon was spent on the beach, an outing that included a cookout and lively game of beach volleyball. It afforded an opportunity for Lily’s and Ian’s families to get to know each other better.

  Everyone was exhausted when they returned to Marlow House that evening. If the ghost was lurking around, Danielle was too tired to care.

  On Monday morning, Walt found himself at his attic window, looking outside. He glanced briefly at the unmade sofa bed and then looked back out the window. Lily’s brother, who was staying in the attic, had left the house shortly after breakfast that morning with his father. From what Walt had overheard, the pair were meeting up with Ian and Ian’s father for a round of golf.

  Meanwhile, the ladies staying under his roof, as well as the women across the street, were preparing to leave within the hour. Melony Carmichael was throwing a bridal shower at her house for Lily, which they all planned to attend.

  He hadn’t seen the mystery ghost since their last encounter. While Walt would prefer to imagine he had finally moved on, he doubted that was the case.

  Walt was just about to turn from the window when a flash of light outside the front gate caught his attention. Curious, he narrowed his eyes and focused on the peculiar bright patch. It swirled and danced, as if created by an invisible paintbrush—the patch growing larger and larger, taking shape. After a few minutes the shape became recognizable—a human form. It then began to solidify, no longer transparent, until at last it revealed its identity.

&n
bsp; There standing by Walt’s front gate was the spirit of Eva Thorndike. Almost a century had gone by since he had last seen her. But then, she had been critically ill, slowly wasting away before his eyes. This Eva looked incredibly well—especially considering she had been dead for decades. Walt stepped closer to the window. Resting the palm of one hand against the glass pane, he continued to stare outside.

  From below, Eva looked up; their eyes met. She stared at him, yet made no attempt to come closer, nor did she wave or signal to him.

  After a few minutes, Walt moved from the window and headed downstairs in search of Danielle. He found her in her bedroom, sitting in front of her vanity, looking into its mirror as she braided her hair.

  “I thought you were going to wear your hair down today,” he said after appearing by her side.

  She glanced up, smiled, and then looked back into the mirror and continued with the braiding. “I changed my mind.”

  “I think you have a guest,” Walt told her. “Outside, standing by the front gate.”

  Just about finished with her braid, her eyes darted briefly to Walt. “Guest? Who? I assume it’s someone I know?”

  “Yes, but not from your world,” he muttered.

  Danielle groaned. “He’s back? I wish he would just tell me who he is and what he wants so we can get on with it. I really don’t want him to screw up Lily’s wedding.”

  “It’s not him. In fact, I haven’t seen him since I saw him taking off after watching Kent sleeping in the downstairs bedroom. It’s Eva. I think she wants to talk to you.”

  Dropping her hands from her now finished braid, Danielle turned abruptly on the bench and looked up to Walt. “Eva? Eva Thorndike? She’s here?”

  “I can’t think of any other Eva from the spirit realm that you’re acquainted with.”