The Ghost Maker

by Kara Lane Barstow

  “Okay, I’ll call the land line if I find anything or you call me.”

  Nicole joined them, “Maybe you should think about getting out of that house. You can stay at my house — Eric can pick you up later.”

  “Thank you.” Daphne said. “I don’t really want to stay there another night.” Daphne hurried over to help Craig assist Debbie into Debbie’s car. Daphne crawled into the backseat and was pleased to see Eric rushing back to his house. She hoped to have the scanned photos shortly.

  Chapter Thirty

  “You and Eric have become friendly,” Craig said, catching Daphne’s eye in his review mirror as they turned on the road that lead up the hill to their house.

  Daphne shrugged. “Eric’s been trying to talk me into creating a reality show where I talk to ghosts.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “I haven’t decided. It might be better than getting a job in an office or working for someone else. I told him that I’ll think about it.” She had an idea, “he’s going to call me later, Nicole invited me to stay with her. I thought I’d take her up on the offer. I feel like I’ve caused Chris and your family nothing but trouble.”

  Craig responded, “You haven’t caused any trouble. You gave us the truth, that is more important. Chris didn’t murder Stephanie. Sheila said that her father doesn’t really believe he’s guilty. But he has to follow the evidence. I believe the evidence will lead him to the real killer.”

  Daphne wondered what he’d be feeling once they proved that Kevin not only killed Stephanie, but so many others. Daphne stared at her phone watching, the bars drop off. With just one bar left, she received the text from Eric and had the images on her phone. Now all she had to do was compare them against the photos on the wall, without Craig or Debbie figuring out what she was doing.

  Debbie had fallen asleep on the way home, but she woke up enough to allow Craig and Daphne to get her inside and into her room. She complained of a migraine, agreeing that sleep was her best option. Daphne helped her get comfortable and then went into her own room to pack. She thought about calling Brandon, but decided to wait and call him once she was ensconced in Eric’s house. She left her suitcase on the bed and grabbed a book. She decided that a pretense of reading on the sofa downstairs would give her the best opportunity to study the pictures without anyone knowing what she was doing.

  Taking her book into the main room, she found it empty. She moved over to the pictures and scanned the handful that contained a younger version of Kevin and his brother Keith. Bringing up the photos that Eric had scanned and sent, she compared them against the photo of Keith standing in hunting clothes, complete with matching camouflage hunting hat and rifle. He didn’t look like either of the kidnapping suspects.

  Before she could move to Kevin and Debbie’s wedding photo, she heard a door close and footsteps coming toward the stairs. She dropped onto the couch and opened her book. She glanced up to see Craig coming down the stairs.

  “Mom’s asleep. Dad just called, the sheriff is releasing Chris. He wants me to pick them up.”

  “Oh good. I’m glad they’re letting him go. He’s no longer a suspect?”

  “I guess not. Turns out Pamela left a suicide note claiming she killed Russ because he had admitted to her that he had killed Stephanie.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I guess its over. He has her confession in writing.” He started toward the kitchen. “In any case, the sheriff is releasing Chris. We’ll be back in a few minutes. You’ll be okay here?”

  Daphne nodded as he passed through to the kitchen. She heard the phone ring once before she heard Craig’s voice through the still swinging door. He pushed the door open again, “Eric is on the phone, wants to talk to you.”

  Daphne put her book down to cover her phone and went into the kitchen. She took the phone from him and waved goodbye to Craig.

  “Hi,” she said, “Craig is picking up Chris and Kevin. The sheriff believes what was written in that suicide note.”

  “At least that lets Chris off the hook.” Eric replied. “But I have some bad news, I don’t think dad thought he recognized one of the kidnappers. I found a letter from the detective dad had reached out to for the files. He was looking for information on one of the maids.”

  “So he didn’t say anything about seeing one or more of the kidnappers?”

  “No. Besides sending my dad copies of the files, he just wanted to know if the detective could look into her whereabouts.”

  “And did he?”

  “He did. Her family had reported her missing in 1993. She was last seen at her place of work. She was a maid for Carmella’s grandfather.”

  “Maybe your dad thought he saw her here? Maybe she was part of the kidnapping?”

  “Maybe. We can ask Becky to see if the maid was ever found.”

  “Anything else in the letter that we can use?”

  “Only that he wanted to know who my dad recognized. The detective stated that he needed more information if my dad wanted any more help. That’s all that was in the letter.”

  “I wonder who he recognized.” Daphne mused. “Could we be wrong about Kevin’s involvement?”

  “I don’t know,” Eric replied. “But if Kevin wasn’t involved, why would Mrs. Modena have thought about warning him about the story?”

  “True.” Daphne responded. “Anything else interesting in the files?”

  “Quite a bit of background on Carmella Romano. She was orphaned at ten before going to live with her grandfather. Her parents had owned a restaurant in Vacaville, and they lived above it. One night the place caught on fire and both the parents were killed. Carmella managed to make it out alive. Then she went to live at the Richmond House.”

  Daphne’s heart froze. Richmond House. Burned to the ground. A cabin in the woods burned to the ground. A restaurant also burned to the ground. All subjects of paintings done by Debbie Dunning. She stared at the painting of the quaint restaurant, the one signed Debbie Spencer. “Eric, what was the full name of the maid, the one your father was asking about?”

  “Let me see,” more shuffling, then he said, “Susan Debra Spencer.”

  She felt the cold spread throughout her body. “What about the name of the restaurant that burned down?”

  “Sparta,” Eric said.

  As Eric said the word, Daphne read the name on the little painting hanging above the nook. The tiny restaurant with bistro tables outside in the courtyard and the name cheerfully displayed in red, “Sparta.” The name signed at the bottom was D. Spencer. “Oh God, I know who the killer is…” A sound behind her had Daphne spinning around.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Daphne threw the phone at Debbie, hearing it crash to the ground as she flung open the door. She was through the mud room and outside within seconds. She ran toward the woods—her only thought was getting to town, getting to Eric. She stumbled when Stephanie materialized in front of her.

  “It’s Debbie. She’s the one who killed you!” Daphne yelled at her as she ran by. “She’s going to kill me too!”

  As Daphne reached the woods, she heard Stephanie yell that she was going to try and stop Debbie. Daphne ducked behind a tree to watch Stephanie fly at Debbie and attack her. Stephanie clawed at Debbie’s eyes and pulled at her hair; it didn’t stop her, but Debbie took a step back, running her free hand over her face and hair. In her left hand, she held a shotgun. Daphne turned around and ran.

  Rather than keeping to the path and making herself an easy target, Daphne dashed deeper into the woods, trying to put as much distance and as many trees as possible, between her and the woman who had already proven she could use a shotgun to kill.

  Her canvas shoes made little noise as she ran, but there was snow on the ground, and she could feel the the damp seeping through the soles. She knew the sweater and knit pants she wore weren’t going to provide m
uch protection against the cold. Daphne’s teeth started to chatter, from fear or the cold she didn’t know, as she searched for a place to hide.

  When she spotted a tree wide enough to hide her, she ducked behind it to catch her breath and listen for her pursuer. She breathed in long, shallow breaths as she strained her ears to hear her pursuer. She lacked the experience to distinguish between branches breaking under the weight of snow or the sound of Debbie slipping closer and closer. She fought the urge to scream. She wanted to make a break for the town but knew that Debbie would be waiting for her.

  She took a chance and glanced around the tree toward where she had come. She wondered how well Debbie knew the woods — would she be able to sneak up behind her or from the side? A whimper escaped as she swung her head around, trying to see all around her at once. She barely stifled a scream as her searching eyes spotted a figure several trees over. It wasn’t Debbie, but a man. A man dressed in hunting gear. His camouflage hat, vest, and pants were not effective against the blanket of snow. Daphne prayed that he also had a gun. Maybe if Debbie was faced with someone else armed, she’d forgo her hunt of Daphne.

  Daphne ducked low and, keeping her eyes and ears alert, made her way cautiously toward the man. She didn’t want to startle him, to have him mistaken her for his prey, but she was afraid to call out and give Debbie her location. She reached the man without gaining anyone’s attention. Reaching out her hand, she gently touched the man’s shoulder, expecting him to jump. Instead, she felt the cold tingle slip up her fingers and into her arms. Her vision blurred while the snow melted away to be replaced by brown dirt and green ground cover. “No, not right now!” was her last solo thought before their minds melded.

  Daphne’s heart stopped when Debbie walked out of the woods toward her, but as she watched her move closer, Daphne could see that she wasn’t the same Debbie currently hunting her. This Debbie was much younger and thinner. Her blonde hair shone bright under the hunting cap, while the khaki pants and shirt enhanced her shapely figure. Debbie had been a looker in her younger years. She beamed a smile as she approached, sending off a wave of lust and desire through the man sharing her thoughts.

  “You came,” he said, his voice soft and quiet.

  “I told you I would,” she purred. “You promised me a day of hunting. I couldn’t turn that down.”

  “You told Kevin that you didn’t like to hunt.”

  “I only told him that because of how much he needed to hear it. He’s been so conflicted since your dad died.”

  “I’m glad he’s dead,” The man said, thinking of an old man lying in a bed. A demanding man who hated both of his sons, a man who always set brother against brother, a man who liked giving pain to others. Daphne caught images of arguments and feelings of resentment as they coursed through the man.

  “I know. He stayed on too long, didn’t he?” Debbie said, gently placing her hand on the man’s arm. “You and Kevin are well rid of him.”

  “Are you going to tell Kevin about us?” The man asked, placing his hand on hers and not letting go when she tried to draw it back.

  She frowned at their hands and then at him. “I will, but not just yet. He’s grieving, it wouldn’t be right.”

  “But you don’t love him do you? You love me,” The man asked, desperately pulling her closer to him.

  She freed her hand to stroke his face. “Of course I do,” she whispered to him. “We have these days to be together. Let’s not talk about Kevin; let’s hunt now and then spend the rest of the day discovering each other.”

  Joy filled him as he felt her touch. They walked companionably through the woods, chatting about their future until Debbie stumbled and fell to the ground. She massaged her ankle and moaned. “I think I sprained it. Help me up?” She asked, holding both hands up to him. He turned around to place his gun against a tree, when he turned back, he found himself staring into the barrel of her gun. The blast jolted Daphne back into the present.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  So Keith Dunning had been another of her victims, Daphne thought. She shuddered at the cold, calculating look that had been in Debbie’s eyes as she pulled the trigger. Carefully, she picked herself up off the ground, searching for Debbie in the present. Daphne had no doubt Debbie would look at her the same way as she pulled the trigger once again.

  Daphne forced herself to move. She was freezing, and her stint on the ground after her connection with Keith didn’t help. She knew it was only the adrenaline from fear that kept her from crawling into a ball and going to sleep. That and the knowledge that if she did sleep, she might avoid the death by shotgun, but she would certainly die of exposure.

  She searched the sky for some the sun in an attempt to identify which direction she should head. She knew the Dunning house was north of the town. She should head south, making sure she didn’t cross paths with Debbie.

  After several minutes of walking, the panic set in. What if she wasn’t headed in the right direction after all? What if she was getting herself mired deeper and deeper in the woods? She’d be another ghost wandering the woods alone. As she tried to control her panic, she saw movement ahead of her. Not ready to give up, she ducked behind a tree and peered around. Expecting to see Debbie, she was stunned to see a man walking toward her wearing a deputy’s uniform. She stopped herself from calling out when she realized he looked familiar. She watched as Eric’s dad searched the forest until he caught her eye and made his way toward her.

  “You’re Eric’s dad?” Daphne whispered as he reached her tree. He nodded and reached out his hand. She moved backwards to put some distance between them. “Please don’t touch me,” she said. She knew that if she connected with him, she’d lose all of her strength and be a sitting duck for Debbie and her two shooter.

  “Sorry, I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help you. Stephanie sent me. My name is Mike.”

  “I need to get out of here and keep away from Debbie. I need to get back into town.”

  “She’s over that way,” he said, indicating the path she took to get where she was now. “She’s following your trail. You need to hurry. She’ll suspect that you’re trying to get back to town and circle back around.”

  He glided through the trees, while Daphne fought through the snow and the numbness in her feet. The thought of Debbie catching up and using the shotgun to silence her kept her moving. She couldn’t speak, not without drawing Debbie’s attention, but Mike could; Daphne was grateful for his company. It helped her feel less alone.

  “As you probably guessed, Debbie is a killer. She murdered me because I recognized her. I had interviewed all of the servants when Carmella was kidnapped, including the real Susan Debra Spencer. When we moved to Dunning’s Landing, I met Debbie Dunning and recognized her. I did some poking around and discovered that she had come to this town as Debbie Spencer before she married Kevin. I needed to get evidence, but she didn’t wait. She knew my partner, Martin, was at the hospital with his sick wife when she called in the sound of shooting in the woods. She was waiting for me.”

  Daphne had wondered if Eric’s dad had been murdered, just as Becky’s mom had been. It made sense — they had both recognized Debbie’s true identity. As she listened to Mike talk, she listened for any sound of Debbie’s approach. After one glance around the woods, Mike said, “Don’t worry, Stephanie is watching her. She’ll let us know if she gets too close.”

  “I’m glad you and Stephanie found each other,” Daphne whispered to him.

  “I didn’t know she was dead. I used to watch her, Eric and their mother, but it hurt too much to see them. So I lost myself in these woods.”

  “Eric saw you,” Daphne told him. “He said that he used to see you watching the house.”

  Mike smiled. “I wondered if he could. Another reason why I stopped going around there. He didn’t need to be haunted by his father.”

  Daphne knew that Eric was still hau
nted about losing his father, about becoming the man of the house before entering puberty. But she didn’t want to add more guilt.

  They traveled for several minutes before Daphne heard her name echoing through the silent woods. “Eric!” Daphne exclaimed. Her heart sank as she heard someone else pushing through the snow from behind her. It had to be Debbie. “She’ll kill him if she reaches him first,” she called out to Mike. “Go, tell him to hide, tell him to get help. He still might be able to see you.”

  Mike just looked at her and shook his head, “I need to get you to safety first. That’s my job.”

  She started to argue with him, but then Stephanie popped up next to Daphne. “Go Dad, I’ll stay with Daphne. You have to at least try to get Eric to safety. She can’t take him too!”

  Mike looked at his daughter and nodded. He disappeared. Stephanie stayed by Daphne, but made sure not to get too close. “You need to hurry, she’s not far behind you.”

  “I’m trying,” Daphne said with some temper. “I can’t move through the snow as quickly as you.”

  “Well you will if you don’t hurry up,” Stephanie pointed out. “And then she’ll get away with all of it.”

  Rather than waste her breath by arguing, Daphne ducked her head down and willed herself to move through the snow and brush faster. The numbness had moved up through her feet and into her calves. She couldn’t feel anything below her knees. She watched them move into and out of the snow. She didn’t realize that she had passed into the clearing until she heard her name. She looked right into Eric’s eyes. They grew wide as they stared past her. Daphne whirled around to see Debbie standing only a few feet away, calmly holding the shotgun against her shoulder, aiming at Daphne’s head.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Before Daphne could take a breath, Eric had her pushed behind him so that he stood between her and deadly Debbie. Mike and Stephanie stood guard on each side, even though they could do nothing to help.