Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man Bobbi Holmes (best pdf ebook reader for android .TXT) 📖

The ghost looked up to Walt. “Are you really Walt Marlow?”

“Yes. Now tell me, why are you so angry with my father?”

“You were such a bright boy. Your father was so proud of you,” the ghost said. “It’s why I never understood how he could do something like that. Not the way he loved you. And the way I thought he loved Anna.”

“What did my father do?” Walt asked.

The ghost stared at Walt for a moment and then laughed.

Startled by the laughter, Walt frowned. “What is so funny?”

“You asked what your father did? Apparently more than I realized. He succeeded. All this time I thought he’d failed, but he didn’t, did he?”

“What are you talking about?” Walt asked.

“Your father. He killed me. See, here’s the proof!” The ghost gave a slight bow before disappearing.

“No!” Walt cried out. “Come back!”

Eight

“Sounds like Evan had an eventful day,” the chief said. He had arrived at Marlow House fifteen minutes earlier to pick up his son, only to find the boy had fallen asleep in the living room while watching television. They let Evan sleep while they sat in the parlor. Danielle had just finished recapping their day for the chief.

“Times like this I really regret that fire downtown,” Danielle said, referring to a fire that had taken place almost eighty years earlier and had burned down the offices of the local newspaper, along with its back issues.

“Why do you say that?” the chief asked.

“There’s a good chance the ghost has moved on. And if we can’t figure out who he is, I don’t think we’ll ever know why he believes Walt’s dad is responsible for his death.”

“My father isn’t responsible,” Walt insisted.

“But if we could go through old newspapers during that period, we might figure out who he is. Or what was going on in 1904. I suppose we could check out back issues of other Oregon newspapers, but I feel we’d have better luck looking at back copies of the local paper. And the museum’s collection of newspapers prior to 1940 is limited,” Danielle said.

“I guess you didn’t hear about Ginny Thomas’s recent donation to the museum,” the chief said.

“Who?” Danielle frowned.

“Ginny Thomas. I imagine Walt knew her ancestors.” The chief paused a moment and flashed Walt a grin.

“Thomas?” Walt frowned.

“Actually, Thomas was Ginny’s husband’s name. Neither of them ever lived in Frederickport, but her cousin lived in a house she inherited from their grandparents. And Ginny recently inherited it from her cousin. She’s a widow, and she moved into the house not long ago,” the chief explained.

“What about a donation to the museum?” Danielle asked.

“When going through the attic of the house she inherited, she found stacks and stacks of back issues of the Frederickport Press, going back to the very first edition.”

“Wow, seriously?” Danielle asked.

“She wanted to clean out the attic, and when she realized how old they were, she donated them to the museum. I guess you don’t listen to Kelly’s podcast.”

“What does Kelly’s podcast have to do with her?” Danielle asked.

“She interviewed Ginny. It was an interesting podcast. You should listen to it,” the chief suggested.

“Are the newspapers at the museum already?” Walt asked.

“I would assume so. According to the interview, this donation means the museum will finally have a complete collection of all past issues of the Frederickport Press,” the chief explained.

“I imagine they’ll get them bound first,” Danielle said. “Like all the other ones they have.”

“Oh yes, they said something about that,” the chief said.

Danielle looked at Walt. “The museum is open in the afternoon tomorrow; you want to stop by? It’s possible the newspapers are there.”

He hadn’t lied to Kelly. Brian intended to stay home tonight and watch television after picking up some take-out food from Beach Taco. But now, as he sat in his car in front of the restaurant, about to place his order, the idea of eating alone did not sound appealing. Instead of opening his car door, he picked up his cellphone and placed a call.

“Brian?” came the now familiar voice on the other side of the call.

Leaning back in the car seat with the cellphone to his ear and a new smile on his face, Brian asked, “What are you doing?”

“Gee, I expected you to ask what I’m wearing.”

Brian laughed. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I haven’t even thought about it. I’ve been on the computer for the last hour doing some online sleuthing.”

“What’s up?” Brian asked.

“Remember that ghost who shot at us in the mountains?” Heather asked.

“I remember you telling me about him shooting at us. I couldn’t actually see him.”

“He’s here.”

“What do you mean he’s here?” Brian asked.

“Seriously? You can’t understand a simple two-word sentence: he’s here.”

“He’s in your house?” Brian asked.

“Really, Brian? No, he’s here in Frederickport. I ran into him while jogging.”

“That is your thing,” he snarked.

“A ghost is not the same thing as a dead body. But yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Why is he here?” Brian asked. “Is that a normal thing for a ghost? Is he following you?”

“It’s sort of a long story.”

“Do you want tacos?” Brian asked.

“Tacos?”

“I’m parked in front of Beach Taco, about to get something to eat,” Brian began.

“And you just decided to call me?”

“I thought maybe you’d want some tacos.”

“Were you just planning to drop them off and leave?” she asked.

Brian laughed. “Not exactly.”

“Tacos sound kind of good. I’ll tell you about the ghost while we eat.”

Kelly and Joe intended to eat at home on Saturday night, since they had gone out to eat at Pearl Cove the night before. But when Lily called Kelly to tell her they had found her checkbook in the hallway—it had obviously fallen out of her purse when she had been at their house that afternoon—Joe offered to drive Kelly over to pick it up, and since they were going out anyway, they might as well get some takeout.

Kelly thought tacos sounded good, and since they both wanted to