The Ghost Maker

by Kara Lane Barstow

  “That is a lovely painting.” Daphne commented, “I think I’ve seen that house before.” She rose to get a closer look. She still couldn’t place it, but the familiarity of it nagged at her. Wherever it was, the sky was blue without a single cloud. The house was all stone and glass with a wide, curved driveway in front and a colorful garden surrounding it. It reminded her of San Francisco, the Nob Hill area complete with a gate that would close the house off from the street. She tried to read the name at the bottom, but couldn’t make it out. She thought the first name might be Debbie, and the last name looked like it started with an S maybe Sinclair.

  “Did you paint this?” Daphne asked her.

  She glowed with such pride that Daphne had her answer. “Yes, I did, it was one of my first real works. I did it for an art class I was taking.”

  “This house looks familiar,” Daphne commented.

  Kevin laughed, “I doubt you would have seen it, it burned down over twenty years ago.”

  “Oh,” Daphne said. She doubted that she’d remember anything from before she was two.

  “It’s the Richmond house in Nob Hill.” Debbie explained. “I worked as a maid there for a short time, before it burned down, of course. My employer was kind enough to let me paint the house as my art project.”

  “Of course,” Daphne said, “I thought I recognized it. The Richmond house.”

  “You know it?” Kevin said with surprise. “Have they restored it? I read somewhere that there was a petition to do so, even though there are no heirs.”

  “My grandparents lived next door. Well, they owned the house but didn’t spend much time there. My uncle owns it now, he created an art studio out of it. His husband is an artist and he often has his shows there.”

  Debbie said, “I remember one of the houses always seemed unoccupied.”

  “That would be theirs,” Daphne said. “As for the Richmond house, no, they haven’t restored it. The land has been cleared, except for the foundation and some of the stone work. I know the last owner died in the fire, along with his granddaughter. They haven’t found any other family. There is a trust that keeps up payments on the land and that paid for the cleanup.”

  Having solved the mystery of the familiar painting, Daphne looked at the other items on the walls.

  They were all family photographs. She saw a photo of a much younger Debbie and Kevin standing in front of City Hall. Debbie was looking up at her husband and he down at her, both smiling. There were many pictures of the four of them, the kids at various ages. A couple photos of Craig with a girl; they looked like prom photos. Then there was Craig in his graduation cap and gown, a huge grin across his face as he showed off his diploma. She moved to the other side to see pictures of Chris in his graduation gown, although in his he didn’t smile. He was smiling in his prom photos, his arms around a pretty blonde. They were an attractive and happy couple.

  Chris came and stood next to her, staring at the pictures of his prom. He sighed. Daphne glanced at him to see pain in his eyes. She touched his arm, which brought him back from wherever his mind had travelled. “How long before we need to leave?” Chris asked his parents.

  “The party starts at six, so we have some time yet.”

  “I’d like to change and call my brother, let him know I made it,” Daphne said.

  “Of course, I’ll show you to your room.” Chris offered.

  He took her up the grand staircase and down the hall. At the end of the hall was a window with a view of the forest beyond. On one wall were two doors and across from them a single one. Chris opened one of the two doors. “This is your room. The door next to it leads to the kitchen. My room is across the hall.”

  Daphne thanked him and was about to close the door when he gently pushed it open again. “I forgot to tell you, you won’t get cell coverage here. The towers are situated so that the town gets coverage but we don’t. You’ll need to use the landline to call Brandon. Don’t worry about the charges.” He smiled as he shut the door.

  She picked the phone up from the base and called her brother’s number. She’d never been without cell coverage before, this was going to be a challenge. She wondered if he’d even pick up the phone, not recognizing the number. She wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail.

  “It’s me. I made it to Dunning’s Landing. I’m at Chris’s home. They don’t have cell coverage here, so if you need to reach me, you’ll need to call me on the land line.” She checked the base and gave him the phone number. “We’re heading out to the party soon. I’ll call you when I can.”

  She hung up and wandered the room. It was a feminine room with plenty of pink, red and gold. The warm wood of the walls and the furniture were a pretty backdrop for the floral comforter and matching rugs. A padded window seat beaconed with breathtaking views of the forest and mountains. It was a very relaxing room. On the wall above the bed was another painting. This one was of a small, cabin tucked into the woods. A slim porch stretched across the front and through the window you could see yellow curtains. It was a homey, simple place so different from the mansion in the painting downstairs. She read the signature, Debbie Dunning, so this was another of her pieces. Debbie had talent.

  Chapter Nine

  She took a quick shower in the opulent bathroom and was ready when Chris knocked on the door. The way his eyes moved up her body told her that he admired the knitted dress in cream that hung off her shoulders before hugging her curves. She wore boots in dark brown leather with a matching belt.

  “You look gorgeous,” Chris said as he drew Daphne in for a deep kiss. “I can’t wait to show you off to everyone.” He winked at her as he let her go.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” Daphne smiled, admiring how the black suit fit his toned body and the maroon shirt worked with his coloring.

  “Thank you. It’s been awhile since I’ve dressed up for something. I almost forgot how to to tie my tie.”

  He led her down the backstairs and into the kitchen.

  “Everyone else has gone ahead. Mom wanted to get there early so she can oversee the setup. Mostly because Pamela Blake, the woman who is retiring, is my mom’s closest friend.”

  “That’s nice of her.”

  Chris shrugged, “It is easy to like Pamela. She’s one of the nicest people you could ever meet. Besides organizing things is what my mom does best. She and Pamela have been chair and co-chair of just about every committee this town has. Mom still serves on the PTA, even though Craig and I left school years ago.”

  Considering the number of cars parked outside the school auditorium, Daphne could tell that Chris was right. There were many, many people who liked Pamela. The inside of the auditorium was lit up and decorated with black and gold streamers and balloons.

  “School colors,” Chris confirmed as he led her past the table of presents into the heart of the party. Around the edge of the vast room were tables stacked with coffee urns, bottled water, and soda. Other tables held assortments of finger foods and sandwich ingredients. Tables for sitting were spread out the space, each with a centerpiece of white candles and yellow roses. The tablecloths, napkins and silverware adhered to the color scheme. Most of the room was left open, with some people dancing, but most were standing in groups socializing.

  After piling their plates with food and grabbing drinks, Chris looked around for a place to sit. He spotted Craig who waved them over. Daphne, expecting to see Debbie and Kevin, was surprised to see Craig sitting with a very pretty blonde on one side. On his right sat a sheriff’s deputy.

  Craig looked handsome in a charcoal suit with a royal blue shirt. The blonde wore a long-sleeved dress in multiple shades of blue. She had a blue ribbon in her hair that matched the blue of Craig’s shirt. If that didn’t broadcast that they were a couple, the grip he had on her hand did. He held one of hers in both of his. He smiled brilliantly as they sat across from them.

 
; “Hey, Sheila, I didn’t know you and Craig were dating.” Chris said in greeting. “Lose a bet?”

  “Har, har,” His brother said. “We’ve been dating since her senior year, and you know it.”

  “Sheila, this is Daphne, Chris’s girlfriend. Daphne, this is Sheila and this is Becky.” He indicated the sheriff’s deputy, who Daphne realized was a very petite and very young woman. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail which was so tight it tugged at the skin around her eyes, eyes that were a deep brown, aimed at her and full of dislike.

  “Becky?” Chris asked with some surprise. “When did you join the sheriff’s department and why?” He looked at Daphne. “Sheila, Becky and I all graduated from High School together.

  Daphne nodded hello to the girls, giving Becky a warm smile. Becky kept the cold, unfriendly stare plastered on her face until she turned to Chris. The look she gave him told Daphne everything she needed to know about why Becky didn’t like her.

  “I went to the academy right after graduation, graduated this past August. I’ve only been with the department for three months.”

  Chris shook his head, “You look good in a uniform. But why law enforcement?”

  Becky gave Chris a smile that turned her into a beautiful woman, but the smile dropped away quickly. “Because of my mom. They never found out who killed her or why. Losing her that way was hard not knowing why or who was even harder. I wanted to become someone who helped victims know the truth, so they can heal and move on with their lives.” Becky turned to Sheila, “Not saying that they didn’t try to find who murdered my mom.”

  Sheila nodded. “I know, you don’t have to say it. Dad has a few open cases that he wants closed, your mom’s murder is one of them.” She reached over and squeezed Becky’s hand before turning to Daphne. “My dad’s the sheriff.”

  “What are you doing now, except for slumming with this guy?” Chris asked Sheila.

  “I’m in college, working on my degree in horticulture with a minor in business management.”

  “That’s great, what are you going to do after you graduate?”

  “I’m thinking of starting a flower shop, I think the town could use a new store and I can buy most, if not all, of my inventory from Craig here.”

  “Which explains why you’re dating him.” Chris added.

  “You’re a real comedian tonight.” Said his brother. “Sheila and I make a great team. She works at the nursery with me, and I think her idea is brilliant. There’s plenty of room in the greenhouses to grow most of the stock she’ll need.”

  “Are there any storefronts available?” Chris asked. “When we drove through town today, I didn’t see much change. Or were you thinking of somewhere else?”

  “Part of the problem. Nothing on the main level, but Mr. Jeffries is retiring soon, I may see about setting up there. Unless I can talk Craig into expanding the store to hold my business.”

  “Mr. Jeffries is retiring? Is there a replacement?” Chris asked them, turning to Daphne, “he’s the town lawyer.”

  “He’s been trying to find someone willing to move here and take over his practice, but so far no takers.” Sheila explained. “We’ll probably lose him and have to find a new one.”

  “When is he planning on retiring?” Chris asked.

  “In a couple years, why?” Craig asked. “Wait, don’t tell me, you’re thinking of changing majors again aren’t you? You know Stanford isn’t cheap.”

  Chris waved away his brother’s comments saying, “I know, but this time I’ve found what I really want to do. Daphne’s father helped me figure it out.”

  “Is your father a lawyer?” Craig asked.

  “No, he’s just a good networker. He has a gift for helping others find their calling and matching them up with those who can help. He’s amazing at helping people identify what work interests them enough that they won’t end up working a job they hate.”

  “What about you?” Sheila asked. “What are you going to do after you graduate?”

  Daphne shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m majoring in Journalism, but I don’t have any plans on how to use it.

  “Oooh, you should meet Eric.” Sheila said, bouncing up and down as she waved someone over. “He’s in the business, he’s a cameraman in the Bay Area.”

  Eric greeted everyone as he slid into the seat next to Daphne.

  “We’ve met.” Daphne said, sending Eric a nod when he sat across from her.

  “Did you see the report on Albert Ashe?” Eric asked. Where Craig and Chris had gone with a suit, Eric had chosen something a little more casual. He wore black slacks and a dark green sweater that fitted his muscular form and pumped up the volume of the green in his eyes. Daphne saw Becky and Sheila both cast admiring glances over him.

  She shook her head. “No, we had to get back to Palo Alto so we could study.”

  “I know Deanna was bummed that she couldn’t interview you about Miguel,” Eric added. “But I’m sure she’ll talk Brandon into arranging it, now that they’re dating.”

  “Brandon is dating that reporter? When did that happen?” Daphne asked in surprise.

  “Well let’s see, we did the interview on Saturday. She dumped me Saturday night so that she could accept an invitation to dinner from Brandon that same evening.”

  Daphne winced. “I’m sorry. If it is any consolation, Brandon didn’t hit on her knowing she was seeing you.”

  He shrugged. “No big deal. Serves me right, I’ve always followed the rule to not date a coworker. But she wore me down and convinced me that we would make a better team.” He took a drink of his water before continuing. “I found out that she got an offer from a news station in LA, so we were likely going to be over in any case.”

  “I am sorry. Brandon doesn’t often meet an attractive woman that he won’t hit on.”

  “There’s Pamela,” Chris said, “come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Chris led Daphne to the woman who was the center of all the attention.

  She was a tiny woman, shorter than Daphne by several inches. Her silver hair sat like a cap on her head. The blue dress she wore hung loosely on her slender frame. Wrinkles creased around brown eyes full of warmth and humor. She beamed when Chris approached her.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said in a musical voice as she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you!”

  “I couldn’t miss this, although I am surprised you’re retiring.” He answered her.

  “Well, semi-retired.” She admitted. “I’ll probably still volunteer or substitute if I’m needed.”

  “I knew it.” Chris grinned at her before turning to Daphne. “Pamela, this is my girlfriend Daphne LaVaigne.”

  Pamela clasped Daphne’s hand in greeting. “Of course, I know all about you.”

  Daphne felt her stomach muscles tighten. She had hoped Miguel’s story hadn’t followed her here. “You do?” Daphne asked cautiously.

  “I should say I know your family.” She laughed. “Not personally, of course. But they’re one of the key families in our state. They helped put California on the map, so to speak.”

  “Ah, yes.” Daphne said, smiling.

  Turning into full teacher mode, she continued, “Your ancestor came over from France, carrying with him a vine he cut from his family’s vineyard. He brought with him his wife and four sons, leaving his title and inheritance for his younger brother to claim.”

  Daphne nodded, “Yes and no. He brought more than one vine with him. But it is true that he forfeited his title, duke of something or other. He and his family came here to create their own fortune. He was tired of only being a caretaker for the family’s land and property; he wanted to build something of his own.”

  “Very entrepreneurial of him,” Chris said.

  “It was,” agreed Pamela, “it runs in the family. Well, his side of the fam
ily in any case. He came to America, settled in Napa, and built a successful winery. His sons grew up and started their own successful business. I think one got into shipping, one became a banker, and one invested in the railroad. The fourth one stayed at home and worked the vineyard.”

  Daphne nodded, “You’re right.”

  “I have one question for you that I have to ask,” Pamela said. She looked like a schoolgirl gossiping with her friends. “Did the LaVaigne name really come from a communication mistake.”

  Daphne laughed. “Yes it did. When my ancestor got off the boat, the man taking his information didn’t speak French, so he asked for my ancestor’s name in English. My ancestor didn’t know English and thought he was asking about what he was bringing into the country. My ancestor responded “the vine” in French, which the man wrote down as LaVaigne. Once my ancestor realized what had happened, he decided to leave it. He had cut ties with his family and was happy to start fresh.”

  “That’s such a great story,” Pamela said. “Any idea what the family name was before it was changed?”

  “Not a clue,” Daphne said. “He was happy to leave that life. I guess his wife and sons felt the same way, or didn’t want to go against his wishes. He kept nothing from that time. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to figure out, but no one in my family has ever cared to learn it. We’re pretty happy with the life he started here.”

  “I can understand that,” Chris replied. “I never really think about what the original Dunning left back east. I’m sure we have relatives still living there. I don’t really know his back story, what he left behind.”

  Daphne nodded.

  “That’s true,” Pamela interjected. “Both your families helped build this state, I guess that would be enough for most. Your mom is from the Old World though, isn’t she?”