Robeth Publishing, LLC
The Ghost Who Sought Redemption (eBook)
The Ghost Who Sought Redemption (eBook)
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Book 35 in the Haunting Danielle Series
A Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series
Two newborns and a toddler under one roof, with another one on the way, can be challenging for any parent, but add an unwelcome spirit with the sketchiest of reputations, and you’ll have the local mediums scrambling for a resolution before the toddler spills the tea.
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CHAPTER ONE
“Thanks for letting me park my car in your driveway. I should be back within an hour,” Rylee Archer promised her friends Grayson and River.
“Do you even have a flashlight?” River’s question sounded more like an accusation.
Rylee glanced up at the full moon and then back at River and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll need one.”
Looking at Rylee as if she were a foolish child, River plopped his right palm on his right hip and shook his head.
“What?” Rylee asked.
“You planning on stumbling around in the dark when you get inside? You seriously think Bonnie’s been paying for the electricity all this time?” River asked. “And even if she had the electricity on, do you think it would be a good idea to turn the lights on and draw attention from the neighbors?”
Rylee cringed. “Oh, you’re right.”
River rolled his eyes before abruptly turning to the house and marching toward it while giving a little hand wave and calling back to her, saying, “I’m getting you a flashlight.”
As River walked into the house, a worried Grayson asked, “Have you even thought this through?”
“You want the truth?” Rylee asked.
Grayson crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “That would be nice.”
Rylee shrugged. “No. Not really. But today when I heard she’s listing the property, it dawned on me. Maybe that’s where I left it.”
“Can’t you just ask Bonnie if you can see if it’s there?”
“Are you serious?”
Grayson considered her question for a moment and then let out a sigh. “I guess you’re right. But please be careful. Call us if you have a problem. I don’t know why you don’t let us drive you over there.”
“It’s only two blocks away, and this is Frederickport. What could happen?”
SINCE THEIR FATHER’S arrest and subsequent murder, their mother had been distracted and less attentive. She had taken to drinking wine more frequently and often fell asleep right after dinner, leaving the boys to fend for themselves.
Their aunt Robyn, who lived in the main house, dropped in frequently yet seemed more concerned about their mother and would often say things like it’s a lovely day, why don’t you go ride your bikes so I can visit with your mom? In the days prior to their father’s arrest, their mother would have reminded them to wear their helmets or told them how far they could ride or when to be back.
Their uncle Fred no longer lived with Aunt Robyn, so she was in the big house by herself. They’d heard they were all going to be moving, but didn’t know when. They blamed their uncle Fred for getting their father the job that led to his death, and they hated Chief MacDonald, who got their father arrested.
Tonight, their aunt Robyn brought over dinner, some mac and cheese she had made with little hot dogs. They preferred the mac and cheese their mother normally made, but she hadn’t been cooking much lately. Robyn set the food she brought over on the counter in the small kitchen and then checked on her sister, who was in the bedroom.
About ten minutes later, Robyn returned to the living room area. “Boys, your mother is exhausted. She needs her rest. Just let her sleep.”
“She’s not having dinner with us?” Eric asked.
“She’s already asleep.” Robyn glanced at her watch and then looked back at her nephews. “I’ve got to get back home. There’s a movie I want to watch. I set the food on the counter. After you’re done eating, put the leftovers in the refrigerator, and set your dirty dishes in the sink. And whatever you do, don’t wake up your mother .”
Thirty minutes later, the angry and confused nine-year-old twins, Eric and Zack Bowman, climbed on their bikes and pedaled down the street under the moonlight, leaving their helmets back at the garage apartment.
The previous day, Aunt Robyn had taken them and their mother for a car ride. Robyn had insisted their mother needed to get out of the house, and when she mentioned they might stop for ice cream, the boys were more than willing to join them.
When going down one street, Robyn had pointed out a house to their mother. She had said, “Remember Cordelia Westbrook? You know, she died.”
“I didn’t know that.” By the tone of their mother’s response, the twins didn’t think she cared one way or another. But their aunt continued to ramble on about the property while their mother stared blankly out the car’s passenger window.
“Her niece Bonnie inherited the house. Shocked everyone; after all, Rylee took care of her. Someone told me Bonnie’s getting ready to put it on the market. I can’t imagine what Bonnie’s going to find in that house once she starts cleaning it out to sell. Cordelia West‐ brook lived in it for years, and that family had money!”
From that overheard conversation on the previous day’s car ride with their mother and aunt came an idea for a new adventure. With a stolen credit card from their aunt, stuffed in Zack’s pocket, the two boys pedaled furiously, en route to Cordelia Westbrook’s house, where they planned to go treasure hunting. They figured if they could break into the tunnel house using the credit-card trick learned on YouTube, surely the trick would work on the Westbrook house.
Just as the boys turned down the street leading to their destina‐ tion, they noticed a woman walking alone on the sidewalk with only the moon lighting the way. They slowed down, waiting to see where she was going, and to their surprise, she walked up to the house they intended to break into.
Stealthily, the twins stashed their bikes in a row of overgrown arborvitaes and crouched behind the bushes, watching the woman.
RYLEE TRIED the key on the front door, and it didn’t work. She wasn’t surprised Bonnie had changed the locks. Using her key to enter the house had been plan A. Now that plan A had failed, she moved to plan B. Plan B involved climbing into the living room’s side window. That was the only window on the first floor with a broken lock. She didn’t have a plan C, so if Bonnie had fixed the broken lock, she was screwed. Rylee tucked the key into her back pocket and headed for the side window.
MOONLIGHT POURING through the window filled the small powder room with light. Cordelia Westbrook stared into the gold- framed mirror hanging above the vanity.
“Where did you go?” Cordelia asked her nonexistent reflection, something she had asked every day since her death. She didn’t expect an answer. After a few minutes, she turned from the mirror and started back to the parlor but stopped when a noise came from the side of the house.
She went to investigate and found someone had pried open the living room’s side window and was now in the process of entering the house. One sneaker-clad foot entered the living room, followed by another. The intruder wore what looked like denims with a dark hoody sweatshirt, the hood pulled over her head. It was definitely a woman; the sweatshirt could not conceal her curves.
When the woman was all the way into the room, she pulled out a flashlight, turned it on, and pointed it directly in Cordelia’s face. It wasn’t until the woman moved in her direction did Cordelia recog‐ nize the intruder. It was Rylee.
“Finally, you’ve come back. It’s about time,” Cordelia scolded as she moved to the side, avoiding Rylee walking through her.
Flashlight in hand, Rylee walked straight to the parlor, making no detours along the way, as Cordelia trailed behind her. Once in the parlor, Rylee turned on the light out of habit, but River had been right. The electricity was off.
Rylee moved toward the file cabinet, but before she reached it, she paused at the portrait and looked up at it, using the beam from her flashlight to illuminate the painting. She let out a sigh as she looked up into the woman’s face. The artist had captured Cordelia’s stern expression perfectly. “I’d like to know the truth, Aunt Cordelia. Did you really leave everything to Bonnie? I mean, that’s okay. It’s your money. But still.”
OUTSIDE, the boys watched. Finally, the woman reemerged. She carried something, but they didn’t know what. She hurried down the street in the same direction from which she had come. When she was no longer in sight, they started for the house.
CORDELIA STOOD at the window where Rylee had just climbed through. But then an insistent scraping sound came from the direc‐ tion of the front door. Had Rylee returned? As Cordelia reached the entrance, two young boys came barreling into the house, slamming the door behind them.
“We did it!” one boy squealed.
Cordelia stood a few feet from the intruders and shouted, “Boo!”
The boys looked in Cordelia’s direction and then ran straight through her and continued into her living room
She shivered at the abrupt assault of her energy and grumbled, “What fun is being a ghost if I can’t scare anyone?”
Cordelia followed the boys as they ran through her house, poking their noses in all the cupboards, cabinets and drawers while laughing.
“Where are your parents?” Cordelia asked. “Do they know you’re breaking and entering?”
“Dad told me sometimes people hide money in the freezer.”
“Freezer? You’re not looking in my freezer, are you?” Cordelia followed the boys into the kitchen.
Once there, one boy ran to the refrigerator and opened it.
“The light’s out,” the boy announced.
“I bet the electricity is off.” The other boy walked over to the kitchen light and tried flipping it on. “See. No electricity.”
“Good thing the refrigerator is empty. Otherwise, the food would be all gross. Aunt Robyn said this house has been vacant for a long time. I bet the freezer is empty, too.” The boy opened the freezer, and as he suspected, it, too, was empty.
After closing the freezer, he walked to the pantry, opened it, and then pointed the beam of the flashlight along its shelves.
“Come on, let’s check out the bedrooms,” his accomplice suggested. “If there’s anything in there, it’s just old food they didn’t throw out.”
The boy with the flashlight turned to the other boy. “Remember that fake soup can Joey Palmer showed us?”
“You mean the one you can hide stuff in?”
The boy nodded. “There are some soup cans in there. Maybe they aren’t all real soup cans.”
Cordelia shook her head. “No, no, no. Don’t go in there. You stay out of there!”
The other boy rushed to the pantry, and together they started inspecting each soup can, all the while Cordelia stood behind them, trying to swat their hands away from the cans, yet with no success. Finally, one of the boys shouted, “Oh my gosh, it’s one of those cans! I really found one.” Both boys moved out of the pantry into a brighter area of the room, where the moonlight spilled onto the kitchen floor.
Cordelia stood behind the boys, muttering, “No, no, no,” while still swatting at their hands. She stopped swatting and cringed when the one boy opened the can and dumped an assortment of gold and gem-encrusted jewelry onto the floor. “Oh, my gosh! We’re rich!” one boy shouted.
“You need to put that back. That does not belong to you.”
The boys paid no attention to the ghost, whom they couldn’t see. Instead, they returned to the pantry and sorted through the rest of the cans, where they found one more fake soup can, this one crammed with a roll of twenty-dollar bills.
