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

had gone by since Marie had moved from the living world to the spirit realm. She had delayed her ultimate move to the other side and instead remained to observe and occasionally interact with the living—as a ghost. When Walt had been a ghost, he’d found offense at that word. Marie rather liked it. “I’m a ghost,” she would sometimes tell herself before breaking into a giggle.

One perk about being a ghost, she did not need to rely on others for transportation. When in a hurry, she could simply focus on her destination and within moments be transported to the spot. When not in a hurry, she could take her time and enjoy the journey, sending her spirit sailing along the rooftops, a ghostly version of the Flying Nun.

She especially enjoyed this experience during the early evening, when people gathered in their homes, warm lights brightening their windows. Not being in a hurry Saturday evening, this was how she traveled to Marlow House, leisurely drinking in the sights and sounds of Frederickport.

Just as she flew over the rooftop of Pearl Huckabee’s house, she spied a curious sight. Pausing mid-flight, Marie looked down and watched as Pearl—Marie assumed it was Pearl—crouched along the bushes lining her fence on the south side of her property, the fence separating Pearl’s yard from Heather’s.

Curious to see what the woman was up to, Marie floated down to the ground, the illusion of her blue and green floral sundress’s hem fluttering gently. Just as she was about to land next to Pearl, Marie reached up and straightened her straw garden hat. A moment later, her shoes settled on the ground next to Pearl. In reality, the shoes, along with the feet inside the shoes, were nothing but an illusion. An illusion Pearl could not see.

“What are you doing?” Marie asked the woman.

Pearl wiggled closer to the fence, bending at the waist, her backside protruding while her nose pushed its way through two flowering bushes, their buds closed for the evening.

Curious to see what had Pearl’s attention, Marie stuck her head through one bush. She looked to the lit area of Heather’s back patio and spied Heather and Brian sitting on Adirondack chairs, each with a beverage in hand, chatting. Considering the lack of lighting along the fence, Marie doubted Heather would see her if she glanced over. But because of the patio light, both she and Pearl could see them.

Pulling herself out of the bush, Marie looked over at Pearl, who continued to crouch by the fencing, spying on her neighbor.

“You really should not be such a snoop!” Marie said, impulsively giving Pearl’s backside a reprimanding swat.

Pearl let out a yelp and stood up abruptly, her face no longer smashed between two bushes. Both of her hands grabbed hold of her injured backside. She looked around warily and then scurried toward her house.

Next door, Brian and Heather heard Pearl’s yelp, and both glanced toward the bushes while Heather asked, “What was that?”

Marie watched as Pearl quickly retreated inside her house, slamming the back door closed behind her, followed by the sound of the deadbolt snapping into place.

“That lock will not keep me out.” Marie snickered. A wave of guilt washed over her. Marie looked upward and said, “Okay, I guess I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”

With a sigh, Marie floated back up, off the ground, again by the rooftops. She continued to her destination, gliding over the fence separating Pearl’s yard from the Marlows’. She spied Walt and Danielle on the front swing and continued toward them. A moment later she floated down from above, landing in front of the swing.

“Your neighbor Pearl is a busybody,” Marie announced once her shoes made touchdown.

“Evening, Marie,” Danielle greeted her.

“Were you flying by and just dropped in to say hi?” Walt teased.

“It’s one of the many advantages of being a ghost,” Marie beamed.

Walt shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. When I was a—spirit—I didn’t get out much.”

“What about Pearl?” Danielle asked.

“I caught her spying on Heather and Brian. Those two seem to have gotten rather chummy since their little adventure in the mountains. Brian’s over at Heather’s right now. The two are sitting on her back porch, visiting. Unlikely pair, if you ask me. But he seemed smitten with her when they were up on the mountains. Of course, he’s too old for Heather.”

Danielle looked to Walt and said, “I don’t think Heather’s secret is going to stay one for long.”

“What secret?” Marie asked.

Walt and Danielle exchanged glances, and Danielle said, “Obviously, they’ve become good friends since their misadventure in the mountains.”

Marie arched her brow. “How good of friends?”

“You’ll have to ask Heather,” Danielle said.

“You haven’t seen a strange ghost hanging around, have you?” Walt asked.

Marie frowned. “Strange ghost?”

Danielle shivered. “Can we take this conversation in the house? It’s getting cold out here.”

Twenty minutes later, Walt sat in the parlor with Marie, telling her about the mountain man ghost, and what the ghost had told him in the cemetery, while Danielle was in the kitchen, throwing together a quick dinner. Walt had just finished the telling when Danielle walked into the parlor, carrying a tray with two roast beef sandwiches, some potato chips, chocolate chip cookies, and two glasses of iced water.

Marie, who had been sitting on the sofa next to Walt, moved to a chair facing the sofa, allowing Danielle to take her place after setting the tray on the coffee table in front of Walt.

“You have no idea who he is?” Marie now faced Walt and Danielle.

“None,” Walt said, picking up one sandwich.

“And you think he might still be around?” Marie asked.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he has moved on now that he understands he’s dead,” Walt said. “But if he hasn’t moved on, I really would like to talk to him again. Who is he, and why does he think my father is a murderer?”

“On a positive note, a ghost does not necessarily know who killed them. I certainly didn’t know who killed me. Walt, you