Chris’s young pit bull, Hunny, who had been at Heather’s side, demanding attention, turned abruptly, ran to Chris and began to bark. Chris glanced down to see what his dog was making such a fuss about, but she wasn’t looking up at him—she was cowering by his legs, peeking around her human, her attention focused on something behind Chris.
“Hunny,” Heather started to say as she turned toward Chris and the barking dog, coffee cup in hand. In the next instance Heather froze, her eyes wide, and the coffee cup fell to the floor, shattering into pieces while spilling the coffee Heather had just poured.
Heather knew who the apparition was—Eva Thorndike. “Holy crap,” Heather muttered. Heather had seen Eva’s portrait countless times at the museum.
Chris turned abruptly on his barstool and faced Eva. The ghost smiled at him, her expression flirtatious. A knock came at the unlocked door. A moment later, Danielle walked into the room. Chris and Heather continued to stare at Eva.
“I see you’ve met Eva Thorndike,” Danielle said as she approached the bar. She looked down at Hunny, who was no longer barking. The pup continued to stay close to Chris, yet her tail wagged excitedly, and it was obvious she wanted to greet Danielle—just not with the strange spirit standing in the way.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome,” Eva purred, looking Chris up and down.
“Oh brother,” Heather grumbled, now regaining her composure. Snatching a dishtowel from the counter, she leaned down and began cleaning up the mess she had made.
“Danielle, I didn’t know you were bringing someone,” Chris said hesitantly, eyeing Eva curiously. In that moment he understood the attraction Walt Marlow had had for Eva Thorndike. She’s even more beautiful than her portrait. I wonder if Walt and I are just attracted to the same type of woman, Chris asked himself. But then he looked over to Danielle and he didn’t imagine she and Eva were anything alike.
“Eva was outside Marlow House; she wanted to talk to me. I asked her to join us,” Danielle explained.
Eva put her gloved hand out to Chris. “And you are?”
Without thought, Chris reached out to the hand, yet his moved through hers.
Eva dropped her hand to her side and let out a disappointed sigh. “Such a shame…such a shame.”
Ignoring the hungry way in which Eva’s eyes devoured Chris, Danielle said, “Eva, these are my friends Chris and Heather.”
Heather glanced up from where she knelt in the kitchen, wiping up the last bit of coffee. “Hey.”
“Nice to meet you, Eva,” Chris said politely.
“Are you and this handsome man just friends?” Eva asked Danielle.
“Unfortunately,” Chris said under his breath.
Heather stood up, the kitchen towel, now soaked in coffee, was wrapped around the pieces of the broken mug. She walked to the trash can and disposed of the pieces, shaking the towel gently before tossing it into the sink. “Sorry about the cup,” Heather grumbled.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said before turning to Danielle and asking, “What’s this about?”
“Can we go outside and talk about this?” Heather asked. “It’s hot in this kitchen and I’m not willing to take off my sweatshirt.”
Twenty-Six
Heather had decided to forgo coffee. Danielle set her cup—now empty—on the breakfast counter with Chris’s, and followed Heather and Chris outside onto the back patio. Eva arrived outside before any of them. She simply vanished one moment and then reappeared again, sitting perched on the side wall that separated Chris’s property from his neighbor’s backyard.
Hunny refused to step outside, but instead sat by the sliding glass door, looking out, curiously watching the spirit sitting on the wall. The pit bull’s head cocked slightly to the right and then to the left. Chris, Heather, and Danielle each took a seat on a chair facing Eva.
“Let me tell you what’s going on,” Danielle began. She then went on to tell them about the dream hop and what Eva had told her.
“Is that even possible?” Heather asked when Danielle finished. “For a random spirit to just hop into some unconscious body?”
“Actually, it is,” Eva told them.
“What does Walt say about it? Does he think it’s possible?” Heather asked.
Narrowing her eyes, Eva studied Heather. “Don’t believe me?”
Heather responded with a shrug.
Danielle looked over to Heather and said, “Walt’s been confined to Marlow House for almost a hundred years. He doesn’t know much more about this than we do.”
Heather nodded to Eva. “And she does?”
“You have to remember, Eva’s spent a century observing the world. She’s interacted with other earthbound spirits, whereas Walt has had limited contact.”
“Earthbound spirit,” Heather scoffed. “Like that wacky cult.”
“Maybe the cult had it all wrong, but the term sums up spirits like Eva and Walt,” Danielle said.
Chris turned to Eva. “What have you observed on this topic?”
“It’s happened before—a spirit moving into someone else’s body. Not common, but it occasionally happens. You’ve heard of instances of a person waking after a long coma and the people he knew before claim he’s a different person. That’s because he really is.”
Heather shivered. “Well, that is just damn creepy. I don’t like the idea that I could have an accident and some ghost could hijack my body.”
Eva waved one hand dismissively, sending golden glitter fluttering out from her manicured fingertips—her polish a pale lavender, matching her gown. The glitter vanished before it hit the ground. “It’s not quite that easy. If it was, spirits who didn’t want to move on would seek out coma patients and move into their bodies.”
“How does it work, exactly?” Danielle asked. “Do you know?”
“It’s my understanding a spirit has a very limited window when he can claim someone else’s body. From how you explained what you saw in your dream, it was the ideal situation. Typically, only the spirit of a newly departed person is capable of claiming a body left unattended.”
“Is that what you did in Arizona?” Heather teased Chris. “Left your body unattended?”
“I suppose I should be grateful no one moved in while I was traipsing from Arizona to Oregon,” Chris muttered.
“You say typically. Are there some instances when a spirit that’s been around for a while might be able to move into someone else’s unattended body?” Danielle asked.
Eva nodded. “Yes. If the person who owns that body no longer wants it and is willing to relinquish it.”
“You mean like a suicide?” Heather asked.
“That would be one instance. Of course, only if it was a failed attempt and the spirit of the person attempting suicide has left the body,” Eva explained. “You see, a spirit can’t claim a body that’s suffered irreparable damage. If the physical body is no longer viable, then there is nothing a spirit can really do with it.”
“I can’t imagine another reason someone would turn over their body to someone else,” Chris said.
Eva pushed away from her place on the wall and floated gently to the patio, landing on her feet. She walked to one of the empty chairs and sat down. “Another example, a person temporarily displaced from his body might simply want to move on to the next level. Sometimes getting a glimpse of what happens after life on earth is simply too tempting to turn back.”
“Ahhh, like people who claim to have had near-death experiences,” Heather said. “They follow the light and decide they want to move on, but it’s not their time.”
Eva nodded. “Exactly. And you see, if the body is still alive, a spirit can’t move on. Think of the physical body as the tether binding you to earth. While a spirit can’t be forced back into his body, he can’t leave this plane until the physical body dies—or someone else assumes responsibility for it.”
“Which isn’t what happened to poor Kent. He certainly didn’t willingly relinquish his body,
and from what he told me, I don’t think it’s possible for him to move on,” Danielle said.
“He probably can’t,” Eva said. “Although, I suppose he could if he truly wanted to. But he’s still connected to his body—his life here. He’s not ready to give that up, and until he is, he will be trapped here until his body dies. Even then, he may still be trapped on this plane.”
Danielle understood exactly what Eva meant. “Because conflicted spirits have a more difficult time moving on in their journey.”
“This is just nasty!” Heather fumed. “What are we going to do to help this poor guy? And Pamela? How freaking gross! It’s like the Invasion of the Body Snatchers!”
“Pretty much,” Chris agreed.
“I don’t think there is anything you can do about it,” Eva told them. “Even if the impostor regretted claiming the body, he doesn’t have the power to give it back. No more than any of you can offer me your body to use.”
Chris looked at Eva and arched his brow. “Hmm, that does conjure up some interesting imagery.”
Eva flashed Chris a coy smile. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Heather rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh brother.”
Eva stood abruptly. “I really do need to be off. I wish I could help more, but I’m afraid there is really nothing any of us can do.”
“What if we put him in an induced coma?” Chris suggested.
“Yeah, right,” Heather scoffed. “Even with all your money, I doubt we could find a doctor willing to do that.”
“Even if he had an accident and went into a coma, there’s no guarantee the spirit who claimed the body would leave it. I’d suspect it would hold on firmly, understanding the consequences of leaving it unattended even for a moment,” Eva explained.
“This really is bizarre,” Danielle muttered.
“As I said, I must be off.” Eva punctuated her sentence with a wave of her right hand, sending a flurry of gold glitter into the air before it vanished.
Chris stood up. “It was nice meeting you at last.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” Eva purred.
“Feel free to drop in any time,” Chris told her.
“Oh…I will…” Eva grinned and then disappeared.
“Seriously, Chris, hitting on a ghost?” Heather snorted.
Chris shrugged. “I wasn’t hitting on her.” He didn’t sound convincing.
Danielle chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on him, Heather. Maybe she has been dead for about a hundred years, but Eva is gorgeous.”
Chris let out a sigh and sat back in his chair. “I understand what Walt saw in her.”
“You need to stop going all gaga over a dead silent screen star and star focusing on helping poor Kent!” Heather said.
“I think Eva was right. I don’t think there is anything we can do,” Danielle said.
“We have to do something!” Heather insisted.
“Unfortunately, I agree with Danielle. If Eva is correct in how all this works, I don’t see how we can do anything to help him.”
“Then why did Danielle ask us all to come here? So she could depress me?”
Danielle shook her head. “Actually, I thought maybe the three of us could figure out some way to get Kent back into his body. But that was before I ran into Eva, and she explained how all this works.”
“You think she really knows?” Heather asked.
“I have to admit what she said made sense. If it was that easy to do the body-snatcher thing, then ghosts would be continually hijacking vulnerable bodies. And frankly, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of anything like this. Until Kent, I’ve never come across a ghost who claimed someone had hijacked his body.”
“Same here,” Chris agreed.
“So we do nothing?” Heather asked.
Instead of immediately answering Heather, Chris and Danielle silently considered the question for several minutes.
At last Danielle said, “While there’s no way for us to help Kent reclaim his body, it doesn’t mean we can’t help Pamela and Kent.”
“Help them how?” Chris asked.
“Pamela is heartbroken over her husband’s change. But it’s more than that. She’s not just dealing with his memory loss; she’s questioning their marriage before the accident. She suspects he was having an affair,” Danielle said.
“Why does she think that?” Heather asked.
“Part of it’s because she doesn’t know why he was in Morro Bay the day of the accident—or why he asked his boss to lie to her,” Danielle explained. “She wonders if he was meeting a woman. Apparently, one of his old girlfriends lives not far from Morro Bay.”
“I feel so sorry for her.” Heather moaned. “I wish we could tell her what really happened to Kent. At least then she would understand why he’s unable to love her now.”
“Not sure it’ll make Pamela feel any better if she knows the truth,” Chris said.
“Plus, it’s a pretty far-fetched story. She’ll think we’re nuts,” Heather conceded.
“Maybe it’s unrealistic to try explaining what really happened. But I would like her to understand that the husband she loved was real—and just because the person he is now doesn’t remember their life together, it doesn’t mean what they had back then was all a facade,” Danielle said. “I know how much that can hurt.”
“Didn’t you say Kent was in Morro Bay to rent a vacation house for them?” Heather asked.
Danielle nodded. “Yes.”
“If she knew that, at least she would stop imagining he was meeting a girlfriend that day—and she could let him go now without that extra pain of wondering if what they had was ever real,” Heather suggested.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Danielle said.
“While it won’t bring Kent back to his body, it might help Pamela,” Chris said.
Heather glanced from Chris to Danielle. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”
When Danielle returned to Marlow House, breakfast was over, and Laura and Tammy were in the kitchen, helping Joanne with the dishes. Lily had gone across the street to Ian’s to discuss the bachelor and bachelorette parties scheduled for that evening.
Danielle said hello to everyone and then spied Walt and Kent coming out of the library. She motioned for them both to meet her upstairs in her bedroom. When she walked into her bedroom a few minutes later, they were already there, both standing by the fireplace. Danielle closed the door behind her. She walked to the sofa, sat down, and then proceeded to recount her conversations with Eva, Chris, and Heather.
“So there’s nothing I can do?” Kent sounded defeated.
“I’m so sorry, Kent,” Danielle said. “But we can at least ease some of Pamela’s pain. When my husband died, I discovered he was having an affair. He died with his lover.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kent whispered.
“At the time, I found myself mourning both my husband and my marriage. The very least we can do is let Pamela know you weren’t having an affair. We know she intends to get a divorce—but why let her believe your marriage, before the memory loss, was a sham?”
“I’m glad she’s getting a divorce,” Kent said.
“Oh, so am I! That guy gives me the creeps.” Danielle shivered.
“It’s been difficult this week. Until we came here, they didn’t sleep in the same bed. But fortunately, he hasn’t seemed interested in anything beyond sleeping,” Kent said.
“If they’re getting a divorce, and he does seem anxious to end the marriage so he can get back with his girlfriend, hopefully you don’t have to worry about that,” Danielle said.
“So how do I prove I didn’t have an affair?” Kent asked.
“Tell me what you remember about the rental agency. I’ll give them a call and see if they can verify your story—not that I don’t believe you. But if Pamela decides to call them herself, which is entirely possible, I don’t want her to start doubting what I tell her, if the person she talks to doesn’t remember you.”
“How will you explain to her you found out about me renting a place for us?”
Danielle considered the question a moment. She then said, “I’ll come up with a plausible story. Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something.”
Walt chuckled.
Danielle turned to Walt. “What?”
“You have become quite adept at storytelling.” Walt smiled.
“You mean lying,” Danielle said with a sigh.
“That too.” Walt smiled.
“I’ve found it impossible to tell the truth all the time when I associate with ghosts.”
“Spirits,” both Walt and Kent chimed.
“I suppose you’re half right. Kent isn’t a ghost.”
Twenty-Seven
The mothers of the bride and groom sat with Marie Nichols in what had once been the living room of Marie’s parents. Marie nursed a wine cooler while Tammy sipped on a glass of merlot, and Mrs. Bartley enjoyed a vodka martini. The remainder of those attending Lily’s bachelorette party gathered in the kitchen and its adjacent dining room, making cocktails, sampling the array of appetizers everyone had brought, and discussing what islands in Hawaii Ian and Lily would be visiting on their honeymoon.
In the living room, Tammy motioned to Mrs. Bartley’s vodka martini. “Lily drinks those. Personally, I think they taste like gasoline.”
“My husband says I only drink them for the olives. I suspect he’s half right,” Mrs. Bartley said with a laugh.
“Manhattans, that’s the ticket,” Marie said. “But I don’t think these young people know how to make them.”
Mrs. Bartley lifted her martini to Marie and asked, “Did you ever drink martinis?”
The Ghost and the Bride Page 17