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

Walt woke abruptly and sat up straight in bed. His breathing labored, he felt as if he had just finished running a marathon. He glanced at Danielle, who had been sleeping beside him. She stirred and then sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. Walt looked to the window. Early morning sunlight streamed into the room.

“Are you okay?” Danielle asked.

When he didn’t answer and continued to stare blankly across the room, she gently turned toward him and touched his shoulder. “Walt?”

“I remember,” Walt stammered.

Danielle frowned. “You remember what?” Reaching over to her nightstand, she turned on the light, brightening the dimly lit room.

“Uncle Teddy was there that day, in Frederickport.”

“What are you talking about?” Danielle asked.

Walt repeated his dream to Danielle in every detail.

“You’re saying it wasn’t just a dream?” Danielle asked.

“I’m not saying it was a dream hop, exactly. But it’s exactly how I remember that last day with my parents—the day my parents died. I’d forgotten some of it, but I remember now. I’d forgotten Teddy was there. He told them he had been in Astoria. That he had returned after the fire. But he was in Frederickport that day.”

“If he was, why didn’t you tell your grandparents?”

“At the time, I never thought it was important. My grandmother told me to stay in the house, and if I told her about Uncle Teddy coming to the house, she’d ask me why I hadn’t answered the door for him. I couldn’t very well tell her I was outside hiding in the bushes. Plus, at the time I didn’t know it mattered. And years later, when I understood more about that day, I didn’t remember it all. But why didn’t I remember?” Walt frowned at his own question.

Danielle took one of Walt’s hands in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Not only were you very young, losing your parents after that would be traumatic for any child, and you were only five. Plus, you already felt guilty for throwing a tantrum the last time you saw your mother. Suppressing memories is not uncommon. What I’m wondering, why are you remembering this now?”

“Because obviously, none of this is a coincidence,” Walt said.

“How do you mean?”

“Bud’s death so close to my parents’. Teddy lying about where he was. Bud disappearing and blaming my father for his death. Those three were close; they grew up together. And if we want to figure this out, we need to find out what my father, Teddy, and Bud were doing back then. And why did they all die except for Ted? What ever happened to Ted? And what did my father tell my grandmother that day? What did she know that she never told me?”

“I’m wondering if one of them is trying to tell you now,” Danielle said.

Walt looked at Danielle. “What are you saying?”

“We both know that when someone moves on, one of the few ways they can communicate with the living is by a dream hop. Dream hops come in various forms. We’ve both been in dream hops where the past replays before us—like your dream last night.”

Nineteen

Ian and Lily sat with the Beach Drive mediums at a large booth at Pier Café, about to have breakfast. Young Connor, considered a medium since he could see both Marie and Eva, sat on Heather’s lap while she absently kept him entertained with a makeshift napkin puppet. Walt had just finished telling the group about his dream after Danielle had updated them on their visit to Ginny’s house.

Heather sat next to Lily, who sat next to an empty highchair, with Ian on the other side. Across the table, Danielle sat between Chris and Walt. The window behind Chris, Danielle and Walt looked out to the ocean.

“And you think this was a dream hop?” Chris asked.

“Not exactly,” Walt said.

“It was a dream hop,” Danielle argued. “Like when Harvey showed me in a dream what happened to him. And Walt did it a few times too, and so did Emma.”

“Does that mean someone else was there, showing Walt these things?” Chris asked.

“No,” Walt said. “But I know what Danielle is saying. It felt like one of those dreams. But I’m not sure if someone wants me to remember what happened—or if it was my subconscious wanting me to remember.”

“Are you sure it was exactly what happened back then?” Lily asked.

“Obviously, that was a long time ago. But it was as I remember that day,” Walt said.

“But you didn’t remember seeing Teddy before the dream?” Lily reminded him.

Walt looked to Lily. “No. But have you ever forgotten something, and then when someone reminds you, it all comes back?”

“Yes,” Lily said.

“So does this mean you think this Teddy dude killed your parents?” Heather asked as she tweaked Connor’s nose with the puppet, making him giggle.

“I believe he lied about where he was that day,” Walt said. “According to what I remember my grandparents saying back then, Teddy had been in Astoria for a few days and didn’t return until that evening.”

“I wonder if the local police station would have any records on the case, like they did with Walt’s death,” Lily said.

“It doesn’t sound like they investigated the fire as arson, so I would think you’d have to look at what records the fire department had,” Chris said.

“There was no fire department in Frederickport back then,” Walt said. “It was all volunteer.”

“Even if there were any old reports on the fire to review, I doubt they would tell us much. It was a good forty years or more after Walt’s parents’ death that fire science was even a thing,” Ian said.

“So basically, we can just speculate,” Danielle said. “Even if Bud’s spirit makes another appearance, it’s unlikely he knows anything about the fire, considering he seemed to believe Walt’s parents were still alive.”

“And if this Bud has moved on, we probably won’t learn what role Walt’s father had in his death,” Heather said.

“I don’t believe