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didn’t even realize Roger had murdered you, and Stoddard believed Danielle had killed him. So his claim may have no substance. But when I see Eva, I’ll see if she knows anything. She always seems to know more than the rest of us,” Marie said.

“Tomorrow we’re going to the museum,” Danielle said. “According to one of Kelly’s podcasts, someone donated what appears to be a complete collection of the Frederickport Press. All the way back to the first edition. We want to look through the 1904 ones and see what happened back then that might give us a clue to what the ghost is talking about. Or tell us who he is.”

“Interesting. I wonder who donated the papers,” Marie said.

“Kelly interviewed the woman on her podcast,” Danielle explained. “I didn’t hear it, but the chief did, and he told me about it. The woman recently moved to Frederickport after inheriting a house from her cousin. Her family are longtime residents of Frederickport, dating back to when Walt’s grandfather first settled here. She found newspapers stacked in the attic of the house she inherited, and she wanted to clean it out. After realizing how old they were, she checked with the museum, and of course they said they wanted them. I never heard about it until the chief told me. I missed the last Historical Society meeting, and the last time I spoke to Millie, she never mentioned it.”

“You say her cousin died and left her the house?” Marie asked.

“That’s what the chief told me,” Danielle said.

“I wonder if that’s Emily Pavlovich,” Marie said.

“Who’s that?” Danielle asked.

“She died a while back; I attended her funeral,” Marie said. “We had a pleasant chat before she moved on. I have to say she was surprised to see me.” Marie chuckled.

“Why do you think it’s her?” Walt asked.

“Emily’s family has been in Frederickport for as long as mine,” Marie explained. “We never really socialized; she was much younger than me. But I’d known her for years, which is why I felt obligated to make a showing at her funeral. Her cousin was there, a nice-looking young woman, a little younger than Joanne. Widow, according to Emily. She told me that’s who the house was going to, and she was rather excited the cousin decided to settle in Frederickport. Emily hated the idea of the house being sold to strangers.”

“I take it Emily didn’t have any children to leave her house to?” Danielle said.

“No. Sadly, her only daughter died when she was still in high school. Quite tragic. She got into drugs, overdosed. Although, some suspected it was suicide,” Marie explained. “And her husband died about ten years ago.”

“That’s so sad,” Danielle muttered.

“And from what I recall, Emily and her mother were hoarders. It wouldn’t surprise me to find stacks of newspapers in her attic. I’m sure that’s not the only thing her poor cousin will have to haul off,” Marie said.

“Do you know what their name was? Pavlovich certainly doesn’t sound familiar,” Walt said.

“No, it wouldn’t. That was her husband’s last name, and he moved to the area from somewhere back east,” Marie explained. “I doubt you would recognize her maiden name, because as I recall, she inherited the house from her mother’s side of the family. I don’t know her mother’s maiden name, but I remember my father saying her family started the livery stable in Frederickport.”

Walt perked up. “Really?”

“You remember who that was?” Danielle asked.

“Certainly. When I was younger, I enjoyed going down there to see the horses,” Walt said.

“Where was the livery stable in Frederickport?” Danielle asked.

“You know where you normally get your gas?” Walt asked.

“Yes.”

“It was along there. The Uncle Bud I mentioned, his family owned it,” Walt said.

“So this Emily is related to your uncle Bud?” Danielle asked.

“Distantly. As I recall, his sister married the man who owned the livery,” Walt said.

“I’ll be curious to see if you find anything of interest in those old newspapers,” Marie said. “In the meantime, I’ll track down Eva, see if she’s heard anything about your mystery ghost.” The next moment Marie vanished.

Eleven

The morning sun peeked over the treetops, casting an eerie shadow over the cemetery. He had returned to the mountains after talking to Walt Marlow the day before, and there he had found it—his grave. If honest with himself, he always knew. But he didn’t want to acknowledge the painful fact, so he had lied to himself. Yet the burden of what he had known weighed heavily on his soul, making him unable to move on, unable to accept the rest of it. After seeing Walt Marlow, he understood it was time to step out of his confusion and face his eternity.

Standing alone in the Frederickport Cemetery, he thought this was where he should be, not up alone in the mountains in a shallow grave, far from his family. He stared at the headstone and read the inscription. He hadn’t noticed it on yesterday’s visit, but he found it not long after arriving this morning. Destiny had brought him to the spot. Yesterday he had not been ready to see it, nor would he have understood. Yet now he did.

“This is where I should be,” he told himself. The next moment he vanished.

Police Chief MacDonald had Sunday off, but both Joe and Brian were on the schedule. When Joe showed up for work, he found Brian sitting in the lunchroom, having a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” Brian greeted him when Joe entered the room.

Joe glanced at his watch and said, “You’re here early. Did I read the schedule wrong?”

“No. I didn’t feel like making coffee at home, so I came in early.”

“Is it feeling a little lonely at your place now?” Joe asked.

Brian frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your cousin, didn’t she go home Friday morning?”

“Oh… yeah.” Brian sipped his coffee.

Joe walked over to the coffeepot and grabbed his mug from the overhead cabinet. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he asked, “So what

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