Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man by Bobbi Holmes (great novels to read TXT) 📕

beat the Saturday night rush at Beach Taco, they picked up their food before stopping by Lily and Ian’s. They drove up to the restaurant just as Brian pulled out of the parking lot.

“I guess Brian had the same idea as us,” Joe said.

“I wonder where he’s going,” Kelly asked, craning her neck to see Brian as Joe pulled into the parking lot. While they had spotted Brian, it didn’t look as if he had seen them.

Joe shrugged. “I would assume home.”

“But he’s going the wrong way,” Kelly muttered.

Twenty minutes later, as they drove up Beach Drive on their way to Lily and Ian’s, Kelly shouted, “Stop!”

Startled by Kelly’s outburst, Joe slammed on the brakes. Now parked in the middle of the street, he glared at Kelly. “Why did you do that?”

“You missed it,” Kelly said, staring across the street at Heather’s house.

Joe looked across the street. “Missed what?”

“Brian, he’s at Heather’s. I saw him in the window just before someone closed the blinds.”

“I seriously doubt that. Why do you suddenly have Brian on the brain?” Joe asked as he stepped on the gas and headed toward Lily and Ian’s driveway.

“No, don’t pull in the driveway,” Kelly said. “Go down the street.”

“What for?” Joe asked, stopping in front of Ian and Lily’s house without pulling in the driveway.

“I just want to see if I’m right. Brian’s car is not in front of Heather’s house, and if he is over there, I bet he parked in the alley behind her house.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Joe asked.

“If I’m wrong?” Kelly frowned.

“We should make this more interesting. If you want me to drive all around the block, what do I get if you’re wrong?” Joe teased.

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

Joe considered the question a moment and then flashed Kelly a mischievous grin. “If you are wrong, tomorrow night you make homemade lasagna, my mother’s recipe.”

Kelly arched her brow and stared at Joe. She had made the recipe before, and while delicious, it was a pain. Before taking the bet, she asked, “And if I’m right?”

“What do you want?”

“If I’m right, we give these tacos to my brother, and you take me to Pearl Cove again.”

“Deal.” Joe grinned and stepped on the gas.

Heather’s laptop computer, pushed to one side of the kitchen table, made room for the sacks of to-go food from Beach Taco. Brian and Heather sat at the table, each with a plate of food before them, while Heather’s calico cat, Bella, corralled a fly in one corner of the kitchen. It had entered the house with Brian.

Ignoring her cat swatting at the fly, Heather filled Brian in on the mountain man ghost while the pair ate tacos, chips and salsa, and each sipped on a cold beer.

“So what’s the connection with the ghost and Walt’s parents?” Brian asked.

“We don’t know. But I talked to Danielle on the phone right before you got here. After Danielle told the ghost Anna was at the cemetery and he disappeared, Walt went down to the cemetery to talk to him, assuming that’s where he had gone.”

“A cemetery seems like an obvious place for dead people to hang out.” Brian snorted.

Heather continued with the story, telling Brian what had occurred at the cemetery.

“So what now? Does this mean the ghost moved on?”

Heather shrugged. “Very possible. But Walt still doesn’t know about the connection between this ghost and his parents. And Mountain Man claims Walt’s dad killed him. That’s what I’ve been researching on the computer.”

“I don’t imagine you can Google who did Walt’s dad murder, and why?”

Heather, about to take a bite of a taco, paused and narrowed her eyes at Brian. “Do I have to hurt you?”

Brian grinned at the threat and wiggled his brows. “You tease.”

Heather’s frown turned into a smile. “Who are you?”

He picked up a tortilla chip and flipped it in her direction.

She caught the chip and laughed. After eating it, she said, her tone again serious, “I’m just trying to figure out why he would be in the mountains. By the way he was dressed, it looked like he had been there for a while, considering the work boots, denims and flannel shirt, and hat. My first thought, he was a real mountain man. Up there trapping for animal skins, that sort of thing.”

“When I think of Oregon mountain men, the pictures I’ve seen, they make their clothing from animal fur and leather, not denims and flannel. Plus, you believe your ghost died in 1904, that’s about two decades after Oregon mountain men faded away.”

“Yeah, that’s what I found. But then I thought, he could have been up there looking for gold. He accused me of snooping, it was like he was trying to hide something. And I imagine prospectors were protective about their gold mines, especially if they hadn’t staked a legal claim yet. It’s entirely possible he died up there on that mountain before he could stake his.”

“From what I remember about Oregon history, its gold rush ended around the same time as the Civil War began. And when it had its second rush, that took place in Eastern Oregon. In fact, I’m fairly certain there weren’t any notable gold mines where we were.”

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t a gold mine up there that no one knows about—except for the ghost,” Heather reminded him.

“I suppose,” Brian conceded.

“I’d like to find the identity of the ghost. Who was he?”

“I assume he didn’t give Walt his name?”

Heather shook her head. “No. And when we saw him over at Marlow House earlier and asked, he just said, ‘Ask Alex.’”

“I wonder if Walt’s father really did murder this guy,” Brian said.

“I hope not. I know what it feels like to learn you’re descended from a murderer,” Heather grumbled.

“You can’t choose your family.”

“Yeah, I get that. But it doesn’t really help. For Walt’s sake, I’d like to prove the ghost was wrong. But frankly, I’m not sure we can. Especially if the ghost has moved on. Heck, we don’t even