Haunted Tales (13 page)

The library was busier when Kate brought Clarissa and Maggie
there right after school. “Wow,” Maggie said. “Where did all these people come
from?”

Kate looked around and then saw a small flyer attached to a
bulletin board. “Oh, there’s a local writer here today, telling ghost stories,”
Kate said. “I remember hearing her tell stories years ago at the Stephenson
County Historical Society, and she was pretty good.
 
Would you like to listen?”

“Are they real stories?” Clarissa asked. “Can she really see
ghosts?”

Kate paused for a moment and then shook her head. “No, I
don’t think so,” she said. “Most of her stories are collected from other people
who have seen ghosts.”

“Well, we can try it for a little while,” Maggie said. “But
if she’s boring, can we go look at other stuff?”

“And by other stuff, what do you mean?” Kate asked.

Maggie looked around the large room. “Well, it’s pretty
crowded down here,” she said. “And upstairs is pretty boring.
 
Could we go outside to the statue?”

“If you are going to do that, you need to tell me first,”
Kate said. “And then you can go.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Maggie said. “We’ll be sure to tell you.”

Maggie and Clarissa walked together to the small area set
aside for the speaker. “Hi,” the woman said, greeting the two girls. “Did you
come to hear ghost stories?”

The girls nodded. “Are they scary?” Clarissa asked.

The woman shook her head. “Not too scary,” she admitted, and
then she lowered her voice. “I don’t want to frighten too many people.”

“My mom says you can’t see ghosts,” Maggie said. “That you
tell other people’s stories.”

The woman leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Can I tell
you a secret?” she asked.

The girls nodded again. “We love secrets.”

“I’ve seen ghosts, but I really don’t like to talk about
it,” she said. “It makes people uncomfortable, so I mostly tell stories about
other people who can see ghosts.”

“My mom is like that,” Clarissa said. “I think you would
like my mom. Her name is Mary O’Reilly.”

Terri smiled and nodded. “I’ve heard of your mom,” she said.
“And I think I would like your mom, too.”

“We’re going to listen to your stories for little while, but
then we have to go. Is that okay?” Maggie asked.

“That’s perfectly okay,” Terri replied. “Why don’t you sit
towards the back so you can slip out quietly when you need
to.
”

“Okay, thanks,” Clarissa said.

The girls listened to the storyteller for about ten minutes,
sitting at the edge of their chairs as she told of local ghosts who haunted
area venues.
 
Then Maggie reached over
and touched Clarissa’s hand, almost causing her to jump out of her seat in
fright. Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and then
motioned with her head that they needed to go.
 
They climbed out of their chairs and went in search of Kate, who was
browsing through the music section.

“Mom,” Clarissa whispered. “We’re going to go out to the
statue now.”

Kate smiled down at them and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be out
there in about five minutes.”

Letting themselves out of the door, the girls walked hand in
hand around the front of the library to the small park area located just north
of the building.
 
A statue of two men on
a raised platform stood in the middle of the park, and next to it, on a bench,
their ghost friend from the library was waiting for them.
 

“There he is,” Clarissa said, pointing with her other hand.
“I can see him.”

Maggie nodded. “He likes this place, too,” she said.
“Especially when it’s crowded in the library.”

“Good afternoon, ladies,” the ghost friend said cordially.
“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

“It feels like Halloween outside,” Clarissa said, and then
she cocked her head in thought. “Do ghosts like Halloween?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I believe we do,” he said. “It
gives us a chance to get out among the real people without being discovered.”

“Do ghosts actually go out trick-or-treating?” Maggie asked.

“No, we don’t need sweets,” he said. “But I am sure that you
would be surprised at how many of those you pass on the streets are not really
who you suppose them to be.”

Clarissa rubbed her arm. “That gave me goosebumps,” she
said.

He laughed. “Well, any good ghost story is supposed to give
you goosebumps,” he replied. “And will you be going trick-or-treating?”

“Yes,” Maggie replied excitedly. “We’re going to go
together, and we’re going to get enough candy to last until Christmas.”

Clarissa nodded in agreement. “And we’re not going to eat it
all at the same time and get sick.”

He chuckled, his deep laugh resonating in the space around
them. “Well, that is an excellent plan,” he said. “My favorite treat was
candied apples. Do they still give those away?”

Maggie shook her head. “No, they can’t,” she said.

“They can’t?” he asked.
“Why not?”

“Because everything has to be wrapped up,” Clarissa
explained.
“So bad guys can’t make us sick.”

He shook his head, and his face became somber. “There are
those who would harm children with poisoned candy?” he asked.

“Yeah, but not lots of people,” Maggie reassured him. “My
dad says it’s just a few asses that spoil it for everyone else.”

Clarissa inhaled sharply. “Maggie, you’re not supposed to
say that word,” she said.

The ghost chuckled again. “Clarissa is probably correct,” he
said. “But I must agree with your father’s sentiment.”

“Are you going to go trick-or-treating on Friday?” Clarissa
asked him.

He smiled at her. “Yes, I might take these long legs of mine
out for a walk,” he said. “But if you see me, you mustn’t make a fuss.”

“Yeah, ‘cause people get weird,” Maggie agreed. “But we’ll
wave at you.”

“And I will most assuredly wave back at you,” he said.

Clarissa stared at him for a moment and then smiled. “I know
who you are,” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

He smiled at her. “Well, I suppose now you know another
secret about me.”

“Um, would you like to go to a party?” Clarissa asked.

“I haven’t been to a party in a number of years,” he replied
with a gentle smile.

“Well, we’re having a party at our class at school,” Maggie
said. “And to make sure the party is educational, our teacher asked us to do
reports on famous ghosts.”

“And you’re our famous ghost,” Clarissa added. “But the
other kids, they won’t actually have a ghost there, just us.
 
I mean, if you can come.”

He looked from one hopeful face to the other. “Ladies, I
will do my best,” he said, and then he looked up. “And now it seems that your
mother is coming for you.
 
I bid you both
a good afternoon.”

“Bye,” Clarissa said.

“See you on Friday,” Maggie added.

“Girls, who were you talking to?” Kate asked.

“Just a nice ghost,” Maggie said.

“Uh-huh,” Clarissa agreed.
“A really nice
one.”

“Well, of course you were,” Kate said, shaking her head
slightly. “Why do I even ask?”

The small café in downtown Polo was nearly empty when
Bradley and Mary entered it. Of course, it was well past the noon hour, and
most people were back at work. “Hi, you want a menu?” the waitress asked them
as they walked in.

Mary smiled and nodded. “That would be nice,” she said.
She’d finally gotten used to the familiar expression in small town restaurants
where locals already knew what they wanted and didn’t need a menu.

“Just take a seat anywhere,” the woman replied. “My name’s
Viv,
and I’ll be back in a second to check on you.”

Bradley led Mary to a booth that was wide enough for Mary’s
pregnant shape to slide into. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m starving,” she admitted. “I’m so glad you suggested we eat
before we drive back to Freeport.”

“You folks from Freeport?”
Viv
asked, setting two glasses of water down on the table.

“Yes,” Bradley said. “We’re just here for the day.”

Viv pulled a notepad and pencil from the apron on her
uniform, but then she paused, studying Mary. “You’re Mary O’Reilly,” she said.
“The woman from the paper.
 
The one who can see ghosts.”

Mary nodded. “Yes, I am,” she said.

“Did you hear that the police found Andrew Tyler’s body in
the basement of the old school?” she asked. “What a shame. He sure seemed like
a nice fellow.”

“Yes, he did,” Mary replied, her private investigator
instincts kicking in. “Did you know him?”

“Well, I’m a little bit older than he was,” she said. “But I
knew that teacher.
 
The one he was
investigating.”

“Oh, you knew Kristen Banks,” Mary said. “How did you know
her?”

“We all went to high school together,” she replied.

“That’s what I love about small towns,” Mary said. “You make
friends in high school, and you stay friends even when you grow up.”
 
She paused for a moment and then pretended
she had just thought of something. “Oh, we met someone else today.
Um, Mitch.
I think his name was Mitch…” she hedged, biting
her lower lip for emphasis.

“Oh, Mitch
Howse
?”
Viv asked.

“Yes, that’s it,” Mary said with a smile. “Mitch
Howse
. Did he go to school with you, too?’

Viv nodded. “Yeah, Mitch, my brother Vic, and Danny all
served in Vietnam together.”

“Serving together like that really creates strong bonds,”
Bradley said.

Viv nodded. “Yeah, it does,” she agreed thoughtfully, and
then she shook her head, as if to shake something off, and smiled down at them.
“So, what can I get you?”

“A BLT sounds good to me,” Mary said. “And I’d like fries
and coleslaw.”

“Got it,” Viv said, scribbling it down.
“How
about you?”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries,” he said.

“It comes with coleslaw,” Viv reminded him. “And it’s good
coleslaw. I make it myself every morning.”

“Oh, well then, I’ll have some,” he replied with a smile.
“Thanks.”

“Great,” she said. “The food will be up soon. Can I get you
anything to drink in the meantime?”

Mary shook her head. “No, water’s fine for me,” she said.

“Me, too,” Bradley agreed.

They waited for her to walk back into the kitchen before
they spoke again.
 
“So, Mitch knew
Kristen,” Mary said. “That makes things a little more interesting.”

Bradley nodded. “And he knew Danny, too,” he added. “I
wonder if he got home from his deployment before Danny.”

“And I wonder if he was interested in Kristen,” Mary added.

“Well, I can hunt down the military records for Mitch,”
Bradley offered.

“That would be great,” Mary replied. “And then I can talk to
Kristen and also go through her journal.
 
It’ll be very interesting to see if Mitch is part of her entries.”

Bradley reached over and took Mary’s hands in his. “The only
thing I ask,”
he
began, “is that you make sure you
don’t put yourself at risk.
 
We know that
whoever did this is not afraid to kill again to cover his tracks.”

“Poor Andrew,” Mary said. “All he wanted to do was solve an
old mystery.”

“That’s the problem with mysteries in small towns,” Bradley
said.

“What?” Mary asked, leaning forward.

“Everyone knows what you’re doing,” he whispered. “And it’s
really hard to keep a secret.”

Mary sat back when Viv came back into the room.
 
She was carrying a cream pie in her
hand.
 
Placing it on the counter, she
expertly sliced it up into eight perfect pieces.
 
Lifting the cream-covered knife up, she
turned to Mary. “Nothing like a sharp knife to get a job done,” she said,
carefully wiping it off on a red-checked dish cloth. “Can I save you a piece?”

“Is it banana cream?” Mary asked.

Viv nodded.

“No, don’t save me a piece” Mary replied, and then she
winked at Viv. “You should bring one over right now.
 
I think today’s one of those days when I
definitely deserve dessert first.”

“Two forks?”
Viv asked, scooping a
large piece out of the pan and placing it on a plate.

“Sure, I’ll share,” Mary replied.
“As long
as he takes the half with all the calories.”

Mary locked the door to her office and closed the blinds so
she had a little privacy before she walked over to her desk and pulled out the
journal and the stack of letters she’d found hidden away the night before.
 
She sat down, sipping on a bottle of water,
and then flipped through the journal to find the last page.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to go through someone else’s
journal?” Kristen asked, appearing next to her. “Without at least waiting for
her to arrive.”

“Not when I think it might help me discover who murdered
her,” Mary replied.

“Oh, good point,” Kristen said. “So, what are you reading?”

Mary scanned the page. “A list of things for your wedding,”
she said, looking up. “You were really organized.”

Shrugging, Kristen peered over Mary’s shoulder. “Yeah, I was
one of those people who always knew what she wanted and went for it,” she said.
“Who would have guessed I would end up on the wrong side of an iron banister?”

“I met someone today,” Mary said as she continued to glance
through the pages.
“Actually two
someones
today.
Mitch
Howse
and Viv… I don’t think I
got her last name.”

“Viv
Kutchens
,” Kristen said. “She
and her twin brother were in my class.”

“And Mitch?”
Mary asked.

“Mitch. Mitch
Howse
,” Kristen said
with a smile. “He was always the nicest guy. For a while I actually considered
dating him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Mary asked.

“Because he didn’t fit the profile,” she replied with a
sigh.

“The profile?”

“Yeah, I was the head cheerleader, the prom queen, the
homecoming queen,” she said. “You know…the most popular girl in school. There
were expectations about who I was supposed to marry.”

“I take it Danny was the quarterback?” Mary guessed.

“Yeah.
And the point guard for the
basketball team, the shortstop for the baseball team and the lead in the school
play,” she listed off.

Mary looked up at her in surprise.

“It was a small school,” Kristen explained.

“So, what was Mitch?” Mary asked.

“He was a linebacker in football, a forward for the
basketball team and a catcher for the baseball team,” she said. “And he built
sets for the school play.”

“Did you like him?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, but I liked a lot of boys,” she admitted. “But Danny
was the one I decided I was going to marry.”

“So, Mitch and Danny both went to Vietnam
?,
”
Mary asked.

“Yeah, they were all the right age,” she said, “so most of
the boys from my class were drafted.”

“Did Mitch get home before Danny?”

Kristen thought about the question for a moment. “Yes,” she
said slowly. “Yes, I remember that he got home a couple of weeks before I got
the last letter from Danny.”

“Which letter?” Mary asked.

“I tucked it into the journal on the night I died,” she
explained.

Mary flipped through the journal and found the slim airmail
letter. “Is this it?” she asked, pulling it out and unfolding it on the table.

Kristen leaned forward and read the letter sitting on Mary’s
desk.
 
Looking up, tears shining in her
eyes, she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “That was the last thing I read before
I died.”

She wiped her eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m sorry,
Mary,” she whimpered. “I need to go. I’ll come back, I promise.”

Mary wiped the tears off her own cheeks as she watched
Kristen fade away. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered.

She picked up the journal, started reading it from the
beginning, and gasped in shock. Then she began to laugh.
 
She picked up her water bottle, took a sip
and then propped her feet up on her desk. “Oh, Kristen, this is better than the
movies,” she said.