Robeth Publishing, LLC
The Ghost from the Sea (eBook)
The Ghost from the Sea (eBook)
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Book 8 in the Haunting Danielle Series
A Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series
When a shipwreck washes up on a beach across from Marlow House, Frederickport residents wonder what happened to the ship’s crew.
Danielle soon discovers the ship brought a stowaway—a spirit with ties to Frederickport that go back to the 1920s—when Walt was still alive.
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The Ghost from the Sea
Chapter 1
Jack imagined Thelma’s vacant eye cavities watched him as her skull rolled around under his feet. What little remained of Thelma did not remotely resemble the skeleton Doc Clemens had proudly hung in his office.
A school of fish meandered by, taking a detour through what was left of Howard’s rib cage. Jack tried initiating a conversation. Like all the rest, the fish ignored him. The only ones who seemed interested in conversing were the dolphins, yet they never came inside. Jack made his way to the upper deck—or what was left of it. He often wondered what Walt would think of the Eva Aphrodite now.
Shafts of early morning sunlight streamed through the seawater above. It glistened and sparkled as it showered his world and made him again crave what once was. He should have left when the others had, he told himself. Yet something kept him here—tied for eternity to the Eva Aphrodite—or at least until he figured out how he had arrived on the boat.
Jack was about to return to the lower deck when something blocked the sunlight. He looked up and saw the bottom of a boat’s hull come to a stop; it rocked gently from side to side. A few moments later, someone from the boat jumped into the water and started swimming toward him. The diver’s finned feet kicked furiously.
When the interloper reached the sunken craft, Jack recognized him. It was not his first trip to the Eva Aphrodite; he had come once before. He carried a light to help him see. He also carried a small box in his arms.
Jack followed the visitor to the lower deck, to the cabin Thelma and Howard had occupied. The diver deposited the box in one corner and then swam toward the exit, but paused a moment to inspect Thelma’s skull. He picked it up briefly, turning it from side to side. For a moment, Jack thought the diver intended to take her with him, and he didn’t think he could let that happen. Thelma and the rest had been with him since the beginning, and it didn’t seem right to let the stranger defile her in this manner.
Unfortunately, Jack had no way to prevent the diver from taking off with Thelma’s skull, not unless he could convince a dolphin to intervene on his behalf, and he hadn’t seen any dolphins around for some time. In the next moment, the diver abandoned his find. The skull made a sluggish descent to the cabin’s floor as the man exited the ship.
Relieved that problem was diverted, Jack followed the diver to the upper deck and watched as he swam back up to the awaiting craft. Jack wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but finally the boat moved away, no longer blocking the sunlight. It was in that moment a thought occurred to Jack—Could I have gone with him? Could I have followed him back to his boat, stowed away? Returned to shore? Would that have been possible?
Jack continued to stand on the upper deck until it went dark again. Nighttime had fallen. He was still standing there the next morning when the sun began to shine, teasing the depths with its brightness.
Visions of departure consumed his thoughts. Jack closed his eyes and imagined the Eva Aphrodite on the water’s surface. Lost in keen desire, he didn’t notice the hull’s gentle rocking along the ocean’s floor was somehow different from normal. But when he opened his eyes a moment later and looked upwards, he realized the water’s surface was fast approaching. The moment he questioned the turn of events, the deck below him dropped, and the Eva Aphrodite plummeted back to the ocean’s floor, sending a cloud of silt billowing upwards.
“What just happened?” Standing on the deck, he watched as nearby fish hastily moved away from the unsteady wreckage. After a moment of reflection, Jack asked aloud, “Is it possible? Did I do that?”
With a renewed sense of power, Jack stretched out his arms and willed the ship upwards to the light. It didn’t happen instantly. First, there was a gentle rumbling from below, a shifting of the boat’s hull against the ocean floor. It then rocked slightly, sending more silt ballooning upwards, but then the ship seemed to unseat itself, and to Jack’s delight it began to rise, slowly at first and then picking up speed, scattering the sea life above from its path.
Unable to contain his delight, Jack began to laugh, the intensity of his laughter in sync with the rise of the downed ship. At last the once defeated wreckage broke through the surface, sending sprays of seawater in every direction. Jack saw, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, blue sky—unfiltered sky. He knew then it was only the beginning.
“Home, Eva Aphrodite! Let’s go home!” he roared.
The motorless ship, powered only by Jack’s determination, headed east toward the rising sun. It was only when the shoreline came in view did he begin to lose confidence. Nothing was as he remembered. For a brief moment the ship slowed and began to fall back into the sea, yet Jack had waited too long to quit now. Focusing his energy, he lifted the Eva Aphrodite up above the water and moved it swiftly toward land.
Instead of searching for the once familiar harbor, he concentrated all his energy on the swiftly approaching wide stretch of pale sand. As he neared the shore, the Eva Aphrodite took flight, hovering like a seagull over the water’s surface, until at last it reached the beach and settled itself a good distance from where the waves met the sand.
It took a few moments before the ship settled itself comfortably on the beach. Looking out from the top deck, Jack surveyed his surroundings.
“Where am I?” he asked aloud. “Am I even in Oregon?”
Making his way off the boat, the soles of Jack’s dress shoes landed on the beach. He took a moment to wipe imaginary sand from his slacks before heading south. He had almost convinced himself he had arrived somewhere other than Frederickport when he saw a familiar building—it was George Hemming’s house. With an excited grin, Jack raced toward George’s back porch.
Normally, he would just walk in; after all, this had been his home. Yet Jack wasn’t sure how long he had been gone, and he imagined George had long since rented out his room. He started to knock on the back door. Instead of his knuckles making a sound against the wooden door, they moved effortlessly through it. Without thought, Jack followed his hand into the house, his body moving through the solid door.
Once inside, he looked around. Nothing was as he remembered. Confused, he stepped back outside again and took another look at the rear of the building.
“I’m sure this is George Hemming’s house,” Jack muttered. Moving back inside, Jack surveyed his surroundings. If he imagined the space without the furniture or any of the wall hangings and other items scattered around, it was as he remembered George Hemming’s home to be. Jack had been gone a long time—how long exactly he wasn’t sure—but he was certain if George was still around, he would probably have new furniture by now.
When Jack walked into the kitchen, he was surprised to find a large yellow dog sitting in the middle of the room, watching him, its tail wagging.
“When did George get a dog?” Jack asked aloud.
The dog cocked its head, tail still wagging. Jack frowned. He could swear he’d just heard the dog ask, “Who’s George?”
Confused, Jack felt the sudden urge to go back to the boat. Abruptly, he turned to go. The dog barked and rushed toward him. Startled, Jack took off in a run, heading for the back door. The dog, at a full gallop, ran through his body, reaching the back door before him. Still barking, the dog stood guard, facing Jack, daring him to come closer. Wanting nothing more than to be on the outside again, Jack made a dash to the dog’s right and effortlessly moved through the back wall, landing once again on the porch facing the ocean.
He could hear the dog still barking inside, her paws now up on the windowsill as her nose attempted to push aside the curtain so she could get a look outside. It was then he heard a man’s voice yell out, “Sadie!” It didn’t sound like George’s voice, so Jack ran off the porch and headed north, back toward the Eva Aphrodite.
Once he reached the boat, Jack entered the lower deck, curious to see how it had fared in the voyage. The first thing he noticed was that water no longer filled the lower cabins.
“Where did it go?” he asked aloud. The disappearance of the seawater confounded him, so he moved to the upper deck, hoping to get a clearer picture of his surroundings and a possible answer to the mystery.
Standing at the stern, Jack gazed out to sea. The sand from where the breakers touched the beach to where the Eva Aphrodite settled appeared to be dry. The only conclusion he could arrive at was that the water had somehow spilled out while the ship made its way toward shore. He remembered that for at least a portion of the journey the boat was completely out of the water. He then remembered the gaping hole in the hull and imagined all the seawater spilling out while the boat made its way to shore.
Satisfied with his conclusion, Jack moved from the stern to the ship’s bow. Gazing down the beach, he could see the rooftop of George Hemming’s house. Jack smiled. Walt Marlow’s house was just across the street from George’s. He couldn’t see it from where he stood on the upper deck of the ship, but he knew it was there. Jack had no idea what he would find at Walt’s house.
Just as Jack was about to leave the ship for a second time, he glanced down the beach and noticed something coming toward him from the direction of George’s house. Leaning over the side of the ship, he narrowed his eyes and watched the curious sight.
He assumed it was a woman, considering the long black pigtails flopping up and down as she made her way toward him. Dressed all in purple like a giant plum, her arms, bent at the elbows, swung dramatically up and down, reminding him of a milkmaid preparing to torture some poor dairy cow. Her knees lifted dramatically with each step, faster than a walk yet not quite a run.
As she got closer, he realized her eyes were closed. If she continued on blindly, she would run straight into the side of the Eva Aphrodite. Considering the speed of her jaunt, he winced. It’s going to hurt.
He was about to shout out to her when he noticed something hanging from her ears—wires. From each of her ears there was a wire; the opposite end of each wire ran into the side pocket of her purple pants.
