The Ghost from the Sea (2 page)

“I imagine the tide washed out evidence of tracks,” Danielle suggested.

“No,” Heather said emphatically. “Brian and Joe are totally confused.”

“Joe and Brian are always confused,” Lily muttered under her breath.

Ignoring the exchange, Danielle stared at the mysterious wreckage. Motion on the front of the hull caught her attention. Silently, she walked toward it, leaving Lily and Heather behind her, talking amongst themselves. After walking some ten feet she paused; her eyes widened in surprise. Standing atop the wreckage, looking down at the police officers on the beach, was a man dressed in vintage clothing of the 1920s.

D
anielle continued
to stare at the apparition atop the wreckage when she heard someone shout out, “I guess I can't blame this one on you.”

She looked to the right and saw Brian Henderson walking in her direction, a cocky grin on his face. He boasted a full head of shortly cropped gray hair and stocky build. Danielle guessed Brian was only a few years younger than her father—if her father were still alive.

Dressed in his Frederickport police uniform and wearing a baseball cap with the department's insignia on its front panel, Brian stopped when he reached Danielle, and then glanced over at the wreckage. “It's something, isn't it?”

“Any idea where it came from?” She tucked her fingertips into the back pockets of her jeans as she kept an eye on the apparition. The morning breeze loosened strands of her dark hair from her once neat fishtail braid, sending them whipping into her eyes. Removing one hand from a pocket, she brushed back the hair, tucking it behind one ear.

Brian shook his head. “Not a clue. We're waiting for someone from the Coast Guard to show up, and we have a call in to the coroner's office.”

“Coroner's office?” Danielle's gaze darted briefly to Brian and then back to the apparent ghost, who remained standing atop the wreckage, watching the people on the beach.

Lowering his voice, Brian said, “Joe managed to get into the lower cabin through an opening. He found skeletal remains inside.”

Danielle frowned. “Isn't that dangerous? Shouldn't he have waited for the Coast Guard or someone?”

Brian shrugged. “He was careful. It's not going anywhere.”

After a few moments of silence, Danielle said, “By the looks of that ship I'd say its passengers have been dead a long time.”

“By the look of the passengers, I'd have to agree with you.”

Danielle glanced back at Heather, who stood a distance away, chatting with Lily. “Heather didn't say anything to us about finding remains.”

“We didn't say anything to Heather.”

Danielle studied Brian for a moment. She thought his expression seemed friendlier than normal. “Why tell me?”

Brian shrugged. “I imagine it'll be in the paper. Anyway, figure the chief will tell you when you see him.” Brian nodded toward Chris' house. “So why isn't your friend out here checking this out?”

Danielle glanced briefly in the direction of Brian's gaze. “You mean Chris?”

“Obviously.”

“He's in Chicago on business.”

“Business? I didn't know he had a job.”

Danielle smiled. “He's busy giving away a couple of million, or something like that.”

“Of course he is,” Brian muttered under his breath. He looked back at the wreckage.

“Any idea where the ship might have originated?” she asked.

“We called the local historical society, and they're sending someone who's familiar with the Marlow line.”

“You think it's one of theirs?” Danielle asked.

“Not really, but at least it's someone local who knows a little about maritime history.”

“Any idea how you're going to get rid of it?” The moment Danielle asked the question the apparition on the ship vanished.

“We may not,” Brian told her.

“Are you saying you might just leave it there? On the beach?”

“If the Coast Guard feels it's a hazard, they might drag it off and sink it. If not look at the Peter Iredale.”

“You're talking about the old sailboat at Fort Stevens State Park?”

Brian nodded. “What's left of it.”

Danielle glanced from Brian to the wreckage. “I've never been there—just seen the pictures.”

“Not that far from here.”

“Does that mean this will turn into some tourist attraction?”

Brian shrugged. “I imagine it would be good for your business.”

“I suppose. But is that thing safe? Kids start climbing around on it. Doesn't seem very safe to me.”

“Let's see what the Coast Guard says.” Brian paused a moment when he noticed new arrivals walking from the direction of the street to the wreckage. “Looks like someone from the coroner's office is here. Talk to you later.”

Danielle gave Brian a parting nod and watched him walk away. The next moment she heard Heather shout out a goodbye, and when she turned around Lily was walking toward her.

“I thought she was never going to shut up,” Lily said under her breath.

“And weren't you just saying you missed her?”

“I'm over it.”

Danielle smiled at Lily, noting the way her rusty colored hair seemed far curlier than it had been when they were inside less than an hour earlier. It had grown considerably since it had been cut short in the fall, and now reached past her shoulders, falling midway down her back where it curled wildly. Danielle always felt tall standing next to petite Lily—and Danielle was not a particularly tall woman. At one time, Danielle had been envious of Lily's full bust line, especially considering Lily's otherwise trim figure. Yet, Danielle had come to accept her own body—even with the extra fifteen pounds she was unable to lose.

Danielle glanced down the beach and watched Heather jog in the direction of the pier. “What did she say about the ship?”

“Just how she found it this morning when she was jogging. Did you know Heather jogs an hour every morning?”

“She never did when she was staying with us.”

“I guess it's her new thing. Anyway, she's all concerned about the bad vibes this is going to bring our neighborhood.”

Danielle frowned. “Bad vibes?”

“According to Heather, the ship probably sunk with people on board who are now restless spirits and they will undoubtedly disrupt the harmony along this stretch of beach…and blah blah blah. Ever since her experience with Harvey, Heather imagines herself to be some sort of expert on spirits. I keep waiting for her to publish that book she says she's writing, but I'm beginning to think she's one of those people who talks more about writing than actually does it.”

“She may have a point about the spirits,” Danielle whispered. “At least one of them.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily studied Danielle. “What do you mean? Do you see something?”

“Not now, but I did. There was a man standing on top of the ship…or at least what's left of it.”

“What do you mean a man?”

“A man. Well, not a man man. A man like Walt.”

“You're talking about a ghost?” Lily asked.

“I assume so. I certainly don't think it was a flesh and blood man. He was just standing there, watching all the activity. And then when I looked again, he was gone.”

“Standing where?”

Danielle pointed to the far right of the wreckage. “On the very top, over there.”

Lily cringed. “That's creepy.”

“According to Brian, they found skeletal remains on board.”

Lily stared at the ship and the activity of the responders gathering around its hull. “I suppose that's to be expected. But where did the ship come from? It had to have been somewhere.”

“I'm not an expert, but it looks like it's been under water. Look at all that crap covering its hull.”

“If that's true, Dani, how did it float to the surface and end up here? We haven't even had any storms lately.”

“An earthquake perhaps,” Danielle suggested.

“I don't know. Wouldn't we have felt something?” Lily asked.

“Who knows where it drifted in from. Maybe that ghost ship has been sailing all over the ocean.”

“Maybe it's not even that old. After all, the salt air—not to mention the salt water—can do a lot of damage,” Lily suggested. “Who knows, maybe those bones they found on board are from recent victims.”

“I don't think so. You forget the spirit I saw. I have to assume he came with the ship.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“If his clothes are any indication of his era, my guess is, he's from the twenties.”

“That's rather specific. Why do you say that?”

Danielle looked at Lily. “Because he was wearing a suit exactly like one Walt has.”

Lily frowned. “I can't imagine it's exactly like Walt's.”

“It darn sure looked like it. That dark blue pinstripe one he likes to wear.”

“Can't say I remember that particular suit. It's been a while since I actually saw Walt, aside from in a dream hop. What does Brian say about it?”

“Not much, really. Said they called the Coast Guard and the coroner's office.”

“I was watching him talk to you, seemed awful friendly.” Lily chuckled.

“Yeah, I have to agree with you. He has been pretty friendly lately.”

“So what's up with that?” Lily asked.

Danielle shrugged. “Who knows? Let's take a closer look.”

Cautiously, the two approached the ship. Police tape, already circling the wreckage, prevented them from getting too close. As they walked the perimeter of the corded off area, the yellow tape draped along the sand gently fluttered, held down by strategically placed rocks.

When they reached the front of the ship, Danielle looked up, using one palm to shield her eyes from the sun. Squinting, she pointed toward the ship's bow and said, “I see its name.”

Lily looked up to where Danielle pointed. Lily tried to make out the faded letters. “
va Aphrodite
? What does that mean”

Danielle shook her head. “No, I think it says
Eva Aphrodite
.”

F
lashlight in hand
, the coroner followed Joe through the lower deck of the wreckage. Behind them was the coroner's assistant. When they reached the first evidence of remains, they paused, kneeling down by what appeared to be a pile of bones.

“There's more over there,” Joe explained, pointing his flashlight to the left.

With a gloved hand, the coroner reached out and picked up a skull. Gently turning it in his hand from side to side, the light of the flashlight illuminated the object. The coroner paused a moment, briefly tucking the end of the flashlight under his chin to free up a hand. While one hand held the skull, the other brushed over the side of it, examining a foreign object protruding from the skull's base.

After silently examining it for a moment, the coroner announced, “Whoever he was, he didn't drown.”

“What are you saying?” Joe asked.

“This is a bullet.”

Joe leaned closer. “Murder?”

“It looks like it.” He handed the skull to his assistant. “Let's have a look at the others.”

Together the three made their way through the lower deck, examining the skeletal remains of those who had been either passengers or crew of the ship. When they were finished, they counted seven skulls. Yet it was possible there were more in other parts of the hull; they couldn't do a more thorough search without bringing in additional lighting.

With his flashlight back in his hand, the coroner stood up and looked at Joe. “I don't know what the hell happened here, but every one of them was murdered. Whoever did it, shot each one in the head.”

“Where's the rest of them? I don't think we found enough human bones to make an entire skeleton, much less account for seven people.”

“I assume they've decomposed, especially considering the condition of the skulls. But I'm going to need some help on this one.”

T
he crowd surrounding
the mysterious wreckage had grown considerably since Danielle and Lily had first shown up on the scene, an hour earlier. Ian arrived before Lily got around to calling him. A reporter from the
Frederickport Press
was busy taking photographs and asking questions. Danielle guessed most of her neighbors were now on the beach, along with numerous townspeople.

Lily and Ian were busy talking to one of the local business owners when Danielle interrupted them. “I'm going back to the house.”

In response, Lily excused herself from the conversation for a moment, and pulled Danielle to the side, out of earshot from the others. She asked in a whisper, “Did you see him again?”

Danielle glanced over to the wreckage. “I assume you mean the ghost. No.”

“I guess even if you did, it would be impossible to talk to him.”

“Yeah, pretty much. I want to tell Walt about all this, see what he thinks.”

“Okay. I'm going to stay here with Ian.”

W
hen Danielle returned
to Marlow House, she raced through the front doorway, down the entry hall, and up the stairs, heading to the attic. She found Walt standing at the window, looking out through the spotting scope, while Max slept peacefully on the arm of the nearby sofa bed.

Walt turned to face Danielle, who was now breathless from her run up the stairs. “What's going on out there? I've been watching for the last hour. Never seen so many cars on this street. I tried to convince Max to go check out the commotion but his desire to nap won over helping me. I'm starting to think cats are useless.”

From the sofa, Max lifted his head and looked at Walt. Yawning, he closed his eyes again and rested the right side of his face back on his front paws.

“A ship washed up on the shore, a few houses down from Chris' place.”

“Ship?”

“Or really big boat. At least what's left of it.”

“And its passengers, crew?”

“Looks like they've been dead for years.” Danielle walked over to the sofa bed and sat down, sitting next to Max. She reached over and stroked his neck.

“What do you mean dead for years?”

“By the looks of the wreckage, it's been out there for decades. No one knows where it came from. By all the barnacles on the hull, I almost think it had to have been underwater. Oh, and it came with a ghost.”

Walt walked to Danielle. “You saw a ghost?”

“Yep. Sitting on top of the thing, watching all the commotion.”

“And you're sure it was a ghost?”

“No one else seemed to see him. And then he just vanished.”

Walt sat down on the sofa arm, on the opposite end from where Max perched. “Perhaps it's just your overactive imagination?”

Danielle arched her brows at him. “Am I imagining you?”

Walt smiled and then said, “Tell me about this ghost ship.”

Danielle chuckled. “That's just what I called it. Maybe we're hanging out too much together.”

“Perhaps.” Walt smiled softly. “So, tell me about this mysterious ghost ship.”

“From what I overheard from the Coast Guard…”

“The Coast Guard was there?”

Danielle nodded. “Brian said something about them towing it out and sinking it, if they deem it a hazard. Although, it looks too big to tow. I heard one of the Coast Guard guys say it was a yacht. Or at least, once was.”

“Sailing yacht?” Walt asked.

“Hard to tell; it was only the hull, with a lower and upper deck and parts of the top of the boat was missing. I didn't hear what they said about any of that.”

“How big was this yacht?” Walt asked.

“My guess, a couple hundred feet long. Oh, and according to Brian, they found the skeletal remains of the crew—or passengers—inside the hull. Which probably explains the ghost I saw. Makes me wonder if there'll be more than just him.”

“And they've no idea where it came from?”

Danielle shook her head. “Not yet. At least, I didn't hear anything to the contrary. But I imagine they'll be able to easily figure out where it came from.”

“It does seem as if you can find out anything with your computers.”

“There's probably some expert somewhere who knows who built the ship, or when a ship like that went missing. Plus, its name is visible on the hull. That should be an excellent clue.”

“What's the name of this mystery ship?”

“Eva Aphrodite.”

Walt stared at Danielle for a moment before asking, “What did you say?”

“Eva Aphrodite. From what I recall from my Greek Mythology class, Aphrodite represented love and beauty, and was considered the goddess of the sea.”

Walt stood up. “Yes, she was.” He walked back to the window and looked outside. While still looking out, he said, “Tell me more about this ghost you saw.”

“Hard to tell his age—had he been alive. Not a kid or teenager—and not an old man. What I found most interesting, he was wearing a suit exactly like your dark blue pinstripe.”

Walt turned to Danielle with a frown. “My dark blue pinstripe?”

“Yes. Did you have a suit like that when you were alive?”

Walt nodded. “Yes. Yes, I did.” He turned back to the window and looked out.

“Which is why I suspect this new spirit came from your era. Unless he died while attending a 20s theme party.”

“20s theme party?” Walt asked.

“Sure. Like a 50s party where women wear poodle skirts and ponytails, and guys wear leather jackets and pompadours, or a 60s party with tied-dyed shirts and love beads.”

Turning back to Danielle, Walt looked sincerely confused. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I've seen you watch
Happy Days
on television.”

Walt frowned. He still did not comprehend.

Danielle sighed and explained, “A theme party. Maybe the ghost went to a 1920s theme party where the women dressed up as flappers and men wore…well, dark blue pinstripe suits.”

“You think that's what happened?”

“No. I'm just saying, if he isn't from your era, that might explain his choice of clothing. Or maybe he just likes to dress retro.”

“Retro?”

Danielle sighed again. “Never mind.”

Once again looking out the window, his hands resting on the windowsill, Walt said in a quiet voice, “Perhaps it would be best if the Coast Guard simply towed it back out to sea and let it sink.”

“Why do you say that? Aren't you curious about its history?”

“Dredging up old history often does nothing more than stir up unpleasant memories, and for what purpose?”

“I can't imagine there's anyone still around who'd be hurt by learning more about the ship. In fact, it's entirely possible there are people out there still wondering what happened to a grandparent or parent. I just find the entire thing fascinating. I thought you would too.”

Walt shrugged indifferently. “Ships have been sinking since man took to the sea.”

“Well, you're no fun.” Danielle stood up. “I think I'll walk back down there, see if they've figured anything out.”

Walt continued to stare out the window, withholding comment, and not bidding Danielle farewell as she made her way from the attic. A few minutes later, he watched as she walked down the street, back to the wreckage.

“Well Max,” Walt said with a heavy sigh, when Danielle was no longer in view. “It looks as if the
Eva Aphrodite
has come home at last.”

Lifting his chin from his paws, Max looked at Walt, silently blinking his golden eyes.

“I can't really explain,” Walt told Max. “Maybe later. But now…now I need to think about it.”

Turning from the window, Walt walked toward the doorway, vanishing before he reached it. A moment later, he was downstairs in the parlor, peering out the window. A thorny rose bush, just outside the glass pane was severely overgrown and in need of pruning, obstructed some of his view. He was about to move to another window when a familiar face appeared on the other side of the glass, looking in at him. Walt took several abrupt steps back and the man moved from outside the glass, to inside the parlor, standing just a few feet from Walt. The two men stared into each other's eyes.

“Jack?” Walt said in surprised. “I certainly wasn't expecting to see you.”

“Walt, is that all you can say? How long has it been?” Jack asked.

Walt's gaze swept over the apparition, noting the dark blue pinstripe suit. “Ninety-two years.”

Jack walked past Walt and looked around the parlor. “It's almost like I remember.” He paused at the desk and looked at the unfamiliar object sitting there. “What's that?”

“A laptop computer,” Walt explained.

Jack frowned, and then moved on, continuing with his inspection of the room. He stopped at the flat screen television on the wall and pointed to it. “What's that?”

Walt smiled and said, “A television.” The next moment it turned on, its sound blaring as bloodied zombies marched across the screen. Jack jumped back from the television and Walt chuckled; the set turned off.

Confused, Jack looked at Walt.

“A lot has changed in the last 92 years,” Walt explained. “Are you here because of the
Eva Aphrodite
?”

Jack took a seat on one of the chairs facing the sofa. He looked up at Walt. “So you know about that.”

“I know it washed up on shore this morning. Or maybe last night.”

“I wouldn't say it washed up exactly.” Jack chuckled.

“What do you have to do with it being here?”

Jack raised his brows. “You don't know?”

Walt took a seat on the sofa. “How would I know?” With a wave of his hand a lit cigar appeared. He took a puff.

Jack stared at the cigar, momentarily mesmerized. “How did you do that?”

“How do you think?” Walt took another puff.

“You aren't alive, are you?” Jack asked.

Walt laughed. “What did you think, that I'm well preserved for being over a hundred?”

Jack shook his head. “It's all bushwa. I feel like I don't know from nothing anymore.”

“Why did you come here, why now?”

Jack stood up. “It's hard to explain.” He glanced around the room. “Everything looked so different when I got here. I wasn't expecting that. But I recognized Hemming's house. Went there first. Was a big dog there. I swear, I could tell what it was thinking.”

“Sadie,” Walt said.

“Sadie?”

“The dog. Her name is Sadie.”

“Are you saying George is still there? He has a dog named Sadie?”

Walt shook his head. “No. George Hemming has moved on. At least I assume he has. Someone else lives in George's old house now. Hell, lots of people have lived there since George moved on.”

“Where did George move on to? Is that where the rest of them went?”

“Rest of who?” Walt asked.

“Everyone from the Eva Aphrodite.”

“I assume so. It's been a long time, almost a hundred years. They all should have moved on by now.”

“But you're still here, why?”

“That's really none of your concern. Jack, it's been a long time. I wish I could say I was glad to see you. But I'm not.”

“I can't believe you're saying that Walt. We were friends. Best friends. I wasn't sure if I'd find you here when I looked in the window. But there you were. I thought for a moment, maybe that's why I was able to get here.”

“Jack, you burned that bridge a long time ago. I'm over it now. Move on.”

“Over it? You don't care I died?”

Walt laughed. “Jack, we've both been dead for years. I assume practically everyone I once knew is probably dead. Why should that bother me now?”

“Considering everything, didn't you at least feel bad at the time?” Jack asked.

“Bad? You mean because you betrayed me?” Walt roared.

“What are you talking about? I never betrayed you!”

“Tell that to Sweeny!” Walt yelled back.

The next moment the front door opened and they could hear voices and a dog bark. Sadie raced into the parlor, her tail wagging. Jack disappeared.