Spooky Hijinks (22 page)

“As you were saying, Robert hung around the wrong people?” I said.

“Yes, a kid that age doesn’t need to be hanging out with men old enough to be his daddy, but since he told me his father wasn’t in the picture, I kind of understood. Some men are just not fit to be fathers. My own dad ran off when I was only a baby, too.”

“You sure that man wasn’t his father, the one with the tattoo?”

“Oh, he claimed he was when he came here, but I wasn’t buying it. He didn’t resemble Robert a bit.”

 “Did this man have a name?” Eleanor asked, making a slurping noise with her straw.

“He only told me his first name, Rosco.”

“That’s some name,” I said. “So he told you that he was Robert’s father and what else?”

“When I told him that I’d seen him around with Robert before, he told me that he wasn’t allowed to see the boy on account of his mother, Vivian.”

“He was playing the role of father to the hilt then, but what did he ask you about him?”

“Just that Robert had run off and the law was looking for him. He assured me he was only looking for the boy so that he could straighten out the mess Robert was in. Never really told me what mess he was in, and I didn’t have nothing to tell him anyway. Told him just like I did the law, that I hadn’t seen him in weeks. Course, I never told them that Megan Schultz had taken an interest in Robert. I think with her help, he might just have cleaned up his act, but since he’s been missing, I know he was in way over his head.”

“Do you know anywhere the kid might be hiding out?”

“Not unless it’s with Megan.”

“We were already there, but he wasn’t there for sure, and her mother didn’t really care for Robert and her daughter talking. Tonya about ran us off the place.”

“I bet she did, but Megan’s a good kid, so I can’t say I’d blame her there.”

“What’s the build of this man with the tattoo?”

“Tall, about six feet, built like a tank, too. I wouldn’t care to run into him in a dark alley somewhere, not that the Tawas area has any place like that.”

“I got you there. Is there anyone else Robert hung out with, like teenagers?”

“Actually, no. I think he only came here to see Megan, because that’s the only person I ever seen him with here. I sure hope Robert is found in one piece. He’s been hanging out with the wrong element, gang members from the Saginaw area I heard, but they never have shown their faces here in town.

“I’m just not sure how involved he might be with the thefts in town. I can’t see a kid doing anything like that,” the woman said.

“Me either, but can you think of anyone he might be with or where he’d go?”

“Nope, but if you give me your number, I’d be happy to call you if I see that man again, or if I remember something.”

Eleanor handed me a pencil and paper to jot down my number, and I handed it to the woman. We thanked her for the pop, and we headed back out to the car.

Once we were back on the road, Eleanor fussed, “We’ll be late for sure now, and for what? Not even any useful information. I’m beginning to think that kid might be dead by now.”

“Don’t say that, Eleanor. If the man with the tattoo came out here asking questions about Robert, he might just be alive. I’d sure love to ask Vivian a few more questions, though. We’re going to stop by there.”

“No, we’re not. We’re already late as it is,” Eleanor said. “We can question Martha about Vivian at the lighthouse. The men are going to be so angry that we’re late.”

“I don’t much care, really. I just want to solve this mystery is all.”

“That from a woman whose main concern should be to write her own vows. Have you come up with something at least?”

I gripped the steering wheel hard now. “I have it figured out in my head. I just haven’t put it down on paper just yet.”

“So you haven’t written anything yet. Having it in your head doesn’t count,” Eleanor insisted.

I couldn’t say that I blamed her in saying that, but I’m just horrible at trying to spell out how I felt about marrying Andrew. Time was running out, though, so I figured I had better try to at least write something out since blurting it out all in a mad rush seemed so wrong to me. Lord knows how I can get tongue-tied at times.

              
Chapter Eighteen

I drove up US 23 until I was on Tawas Beach Road, which veered off to the right. I decided I better not push my luck with being any later than we already were. We could just as well question Vivian later.

When I finally approached the lighthouse, I could see Andrew waiting outside. As Eleanor and I approached the sidewalk that led to the lighthouse, Andrew was glancing at his watch.

“Sorry,” I said. “I got stuck in traffic.”

He cocked a brow. “Here in Tawas, in December?”

“Deer kept crossing the road in front of our car,” Eleanor added. “Did you want us to be murderized by a white-tailed deer?”

“Come inside before you catch your death out here,” Andrew said, leading the way, stopping to open the door for us. I actually sighed as the heat hit us when we entered. I welcomed feeling warm.

We walked into a room that was set up like a museum, with a mannequin dressed in the blue uniform that the lightkeepers had worn before the light was run on electricity. There were also other authentic-looking artifacts and picture frames accounting the history of the lighthouse.

Pastor Wilfred O’Conner stepped forward in his version of walking a straight line that was anything but that. He then burped, quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I had sauerkraut for lunch. It always does that to me.”

I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying, “Are you sure it wasn’t the wine?” But, of course, I kept my lips zipped.

The interior of the lighthouse was decorated for Christmas, and it felt so comfortable. That, of course, changed when the ghost of the Victorian woman floated forward, chilling the place to the bone.

“S-She must be back,” Wilfred said.

“Who are you talking about?”

‘The ghost that lives here. I know she’s in the room every time it gets cold. You must have felt it?”

“No, sorry, not sure what you’re talking about.”

I stared at the ghost, and her face twisted into a snarl, blasting the lighthouse with a moan as she moved down the hall that led to the tower.

“Knock it off, Mother,” Martha said. “I don’t need her acting up all night. Cliff finally showed up, no thanks to you two. Weren’t you supposed to find him and bring him here?”

“I don’t remember anything about bringing him anywhere, but if you want him to stay, make sure you cool it on the flirtations. He doesn’t like older women.”

Martha laughed. “Like I needed you to tell me that. I just wish I had known that before I took this gig with him, but I’m just glad I’m not the only one here now.”

“Have you decided where in the lighthouse you might want to get married?”

“In the tower,” Eleanor said.

“Have you actually ever been up there? It’s quite small,” Martha informed her.

I gulped, only because I was deathly afraid of heights. “Good—I mean, too bad. That would have been great.” I suggested, “How about that archway?”

I never waited for them to respond as I made my way toward the place I was talking about. Bricks in an upright rectangle surrounded the iron door that led into the tower of the lighthouse. It wasn’t all that big because there was a staircase not far from that to the rear, leading to the lightkeeper’s quarters on the second floor. “I know there’s not a ton of room here, but it sure is beautiful. And there’s that window right there, too.”

“We could decorate it with garland and lights,” Martha suggested. “And it is a beautiful spot.”

Just then, the iron door moved, without anyone near it. I gulped. “Sounds like a plan.”

Andrew glanced over to the door with raised brow. “Hey, did anyone just see that door move?”

Everyone profusely shook their heads. Either they didn’t actually see it or were denying that they had.

“We can do a quick run-through,” Wilfred said. “If everyone’s here.”

I turned to Andrew and asked, “Where’s Mr. Wilson?”

“He’s copping a squat in the museum part. I’ll go get him.”

Eleanor grabbed my arm and whispered, “Tell me you saw that door move, too.”

“Ignore it. I think we have a mischievous ghost here.”

Mr. Wilson soon was moving toward us with his rolling walker and stood next to Eleanor. “Who’s going to give you away?”

“Well, my parents are both gone, so I don’t have the foggiest,” Eleanor said with a deep frown.

Martha waved her hand. “I can give you both away. I’ll just walk in the middle of you.”

Eleanor dabbed at her eyes with her shirt. “That would be so sweet, Martha. Thank you.”

I had hoped that Stuart would want to do that, but I figured he was too busy anyway. Besides, I didn’t want to hurt Martha’s feelings. “You’ll need a dress, or outfit that doesn’t consist of a catsuit,” I said.

“Leave her alone, Agnes. If she wants to wear a catsuit, she can. I’ve sort of gotten used to her wearing things like that. None of our guests would be shocked, I’m sure.”

I took in Martha’s appearance. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with a dab of paint on it. “Well, she’s not wearing a catsuit now,” I pointed out.

“That’s because that Loretta Kirkpatrick wouldn’t let me. She told me to tell you that she was just kidding about having you clean the lighthouse before your wedding here. This place never gets all that dirty with the chore list I have.”

“Good, but you know I still plan on staying here the night of Christmas Eve.”

“Like the night before we get married?” Eleanor asked. “That way we wouldn’t have to bring everything last minute.”

“It could be just like a sleepover,” Martha added.

Wilfred smiled. “This already will be one of the best weddings I’ve done to date.”

Andrew and Mr. Wilson stood on either side of the hallway, while we went back with Martha into the dining room. Eleanor and I then each took one of Martha’s arms and walked back to where our beaus were waiting. Martha presented us to our respective fiancés, and we giggled like a couple of schoolgirls. That was until the lights began to flash on and off, and this time, the heavy iron door closed with a bang.

The lights kept flashing until I said, “Stop it, would you?”

Only after saying that did the lights come back on. Andrew went over and tried to open the door that led to the tower now, but it wouldn’t budge for a while. Then, finally, it opened a crack. Andrew pulled it open like it was supposed to be, and I noticed the ghost moving up the stairs of the tower.

“I think I should go up there and talk to the ghost, whoever she is.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Wilfred said. “Tell her, Martha. It’s part of the lighthouse tour.”

“Wilfred is right. A woman did die here years ago, a keeper’s daughter.”

That had my attention. “Please, go on.”

“It’s most likely Blanche Deckette. The Spanish flu hit the Tawas area pretty hard in 1919, and Blanche was struck down. She eventually died of pneumonia,” Martha said. “There’s a plaque I can show you that recounts the events.”

We followed Martha into the room that was a bedroom, and we read the plaque that told us the entire story. It made me feel so sad now. No wonder the ghost wanted to disrupt our rehearsal. After she died, they took her body over the ice of Tawas Bay to the undertaker. She was eventually buried in the Greenwood cemetery, along with many other victims of the influenza, according to the plaque.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back as I lightly touched the frame on the wall. It just reminded me about the story of the Butler descendants who were barred from their own home after helping out victims of the flu. It was then that I heard the pitiful moans from way above. I knew what I had to do now. I had to talk to Blanche, even if she was in the tower and I was afraid of heights. It never entered my brain just how difficult a climb it might be.

I strolled toward the tower, and Eleanor asked, “What are you planning to do now, Agnes?”

“I’m going up the tower to the top. I have to speak to the ghost.”

Eleanor raced ahead of me, trying to brace her arms on either side of the iron door to stop me from entering.

“Stop it, Eleanor. You can’t stop me from going up there.”

“You’re too old to climb those stairs,” Eleanor said.

“There’s eighty-five steps in all,” Martha informed me. “I would be sad if you died before you were married to Andrew. You know how long you’ve been looking forward to that day.”

“I’m not going to die. I’m just going to try to speak to Blanche.”

“What?” Wilber said. “She can speak to spirits?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said. “Long story.”

“When I wake up, this will be a great memory from a very strange dream,” Wilber said as he wobbled away.

I slipped under Eleanor’s arms and grabbed the handrail before she said one final thing, “But you’re afraid of heights.”

“You want me to go with you?” Andrew asked.

“No. I think I need to do this alone.”

The first step on the metal grate step felt just fine.

“Whatever you do, don’t look down,” Eleanor recommended.

“Good tip.”

I moved my way up the steps a little too fast at first, until I had to grip the handrail with a death grip as I tried to catch my breath. This was an exertion, but one I was willing to take on. I kept telling myself not to look down, or even out a window that I saw on my way up. I wasn’t sure how far I had gone up when I felt both nauseated and dizzy. I knew my fear of heights had kicked in, but I wasn’t going to go back down until I accomplished this task that was an amazing feat, especially at my age. What I was going through now had nothing to do with the exertion. It had everything to do with my rabid fear of heights. I felt a rush over the top of my head as every part of my body began to tremble. But I wasn’t quite close enough to the top, probably only halfway. I kept concentrating on one thing: don’t look down. Soon I was at the top and grabbed onto the metal rail, pulling myself all the way up.

The light was beautiful, and an LED light now that the light was powered by electricity. The Victorian lady, as I kept referring to her, was leaning against the side of the glass.