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The Summer Festival had arrived and everyone was in town enjoying the festivities. Laura had come home for the weekend so she could attend and make sure both Frank and Abby were all right. They hadn’t expected her home until sometime before Glinda and Kyle’s September thirtieth wedding, so it was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. The full family would be together for the festival and after her close call with Bradley Weaver and Frank’s heart attack, Abigail, all of them, were grateful they could be together. They’d had a scare with both incidents. Their children, everyone who loved her, who loved Frank, wanted to see and be with them. It was more than a reason to gather and celebrate.
Frank had been home from the hospital for about a week. He swore he was feeling better than he had in months, but Abigail was still making him take things easy. They’d go to the festival but she would make sure Frank didn’t overdo it. They’d meet and visit with their friends, eat the best of the festival’s food, and stay long enough to hear Nick’s band play in the courthouse park’s new outdoor pavilion; then she and Frank would go home.
Frank thought she was being overly-protective, yet he hadn’t argued with her. His heart attack had scared him, too. He’d told Abigail he thanked God every day they were both still alive. That Weaver hadn’t killed her and his heart attack hadn’t killed him. He wasn’t about to complain about anything.
The day of the festival, the final day of August, was unseasonably cool, after the heat wave they’d endured in the weeks before, and the sun was shining. A perfect day for a town festival.
As the normal town ritual required, everyone gathered at Stella’s Diner for breakfast on the morning of the day. She and Frank were the first ones to get to the cafe and they ordered their breakfasts–she making sure Frank had a fairly healthy one with a side of fresh fruit–and decaffeinated coffee. Frank wouldn’t stop giving up his beloved coffee, but had switched to the variety with less caffeine and cut down on the number of cups he consumed each day. Every once and a while, though, he’d still sneak a cup of real coffee and, with an accepting smile, Abigail looked the other way. What harm could it really do?
The diner’s door swung open and Alfred waltzed in.
“Hi there, squirrel man,” Frank called out at the old man as he passed by their table. “How’s Rocket doing?”
Alfred paused before them, a grin spreading across his face. “Hello there Frank and Abigail. Rocket’s fine. He was big and healthy enough, so I set him free a couple days ago. I built this small wooden home for him and nailed it to the tree in my backyard. I keep it stocked with squirrel food, nuts and fruit, and water and he returns there every night to sleep. He’s still my buddy, too. When he sees me he runs to me, jumps on and runs all over me, sits and eats on my shoulder the nuts I give him. He’s always real tickled to see me. So I haven’t lost him.”
“That’s great, Alfred,” Abigail said. “So all’s well that ends well.”
“Yes, it is. I still have my little furry friend, but he’s happier outside in the trees with his squirrel gang. I see him climbing through the branches, leaping from one to another like a daredevil acrobat, with a mess of other squirrels, chasing and playing with each other.”
“Er, how can you tell him apart from the other squirrels?” Frank wanted to know. “Don’t they all kind of look alike?”
“I can.” Alfred nodded. “I just can. Well, he is a little smaller, skinnier, than his friends. But I recognize him every time. He seems real happy. So I did good.”
“Yes, you did,” Frank congratulated him.
Alfred’s face became serious. “Heard about the tribulations you two went through this month. Terrible thing. I’m so glad to see it all worked out. You’re still here.”
“Thank you. We’re happy to still be here, too.”
Then Frank invited him, “You’re welcome to sit with us if you’d like? We have a whole group meeting us here in the next half hour. The more the merrier.”
“I would, but I’m only here to pick up some breakfast for my wife and me. She’s at home waiting. So, thank you for the invite, but I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Will we see you later at the festival, Alfred?” Abigail spooned some sugar into her coffee. It was her second cup.
“You might. The wife wants to hear some music in the park later. We heard your son, Nick, and his band is playing. She wants to be there for that. We’ll bring our lawn chairs, sun umbrella and all. Don’t want to get sunburned.”
“Great,” Frank told the old man. “Then you’ll see us there. Say hi to the wife for us.”
“I will.” Alfred then headed for the counter to pick up the bag with his breakfast in it.
Right after Alfred left, they were joined by Myrtle, Glinda and Kyle. Claudia might join them later in the day. She was home with Ryan who was still recovering from his African safari ordeal. He’d been sticking really close to home the last few weeks.
Abigail had told everyone once they’d seated themselves, “Claudia said she’d swing by later when Ryan was napping. He might even come with her. He’s thinking about it. He says he has to start getting out sooner or later. Get things back to normal.”
“I hope Ryan comes,” Glinda had voiced. “We’d all like to see him.”
Irma, a chocolate lollipop pressed between her lips, showed up to have breakfast with them after Myrtle called her and blabbed where they were.
Samantha was attending to some mayoral duty or other and she, Kent and baby Willie, would see all of them at the park that afternoon. She wouldn’t miss hearing Nick’s band for anything, she’d asserted; she’d be there for that. Samantha, excited and glowing, had also confessed to Abigail she and Kent were expecting their second child in the spring and not to tell anyone. Yet. She wanted to announce it herself when everyone was together in the park listening to Nick’s band.
Laura was off somewhere with Nick helping him and the band set up for that gig later in the day.
Abigail lounged in her chair and looked around the table, the diner, smiling. It was good to be there with everyone. The town knew what had happened to them at the Theiss house and since they’d sat down the townspeople, one or more at a time, had stopped by to tell them how relieved they were that both of them were okay, and to chat with them. Ask questions. Be their normal nosey selves. Abigail and Frank didn’t mind. People cared about them and that was all that mattered.
Some asked about the Theiss murder case and how the events that had happened to Abigail and Frank that evening at 707 Suncrest set Lucas Theiss free after forty years in prison. Along with their miraculous survival, it was the talk of the town that Lucas Theiss was now free because he hadn’t killed his family. Bradley Weaver, a divorced loner who had moved away from Spookie decades before, and was now deceased, had murdered them. He’d been the stalker Lucas Theiss had sworn existed. The stalker Jeanette had been so afraid of. Turned out she was right to have been scared of him. Weaver had shot Jeanette and her family, not Lucas. The police were now delving into Weaver’s past to see if he’d continued killing after the Theiss family.
Frank predicted they’d uncover other murders Weaver had committed. “A serial killer doesn’t usually stop killing, once he has started,” Frank affirmed, “unless something catastrophe happens in their lives or to them–or, like Weaver, they die.”
The afternoon Abigail had found the letters, Frank had had his heart attack, and Weaver had died, was the same afternoon Sheriff Mearl telephoned the county prosecutor about the situation.
Then right after that phone call the sheriff had contacted the Innocence Project to ask them for help in obtaining a motion to set aside Lucas’s conviction. They immediately took the case. They spoke to a state judge on Lucas’s behalf; showed the judge the letters and Abigail’s written testimony on what Weaver had confessed to her before he died falling out of the window. Sheriff Mearl let the judge know the gun found on Weaver had been identified as the one that had been used in the Theiss family’s murders all those years ago. Ballistics matching with the bullets they located in the old evidence packet proved that. When the facts had been confirmed to be true, and the judge had the letters and Abigail’s statement in his hands, the judge contacted the department of corrections, and the warden of Lucas’s prison. Lucas had received the telephone call and, according to the prison officials, had been in shock over the turn of events, yet ecstatic the truth had at last come out, and he would soon be vindicated. It hadn’t taken long.
Two mornings later Lucas had walked out a free man. It had been that easy, that quick. Now he wanted to meet and talk to Abigail and Frank. Thank them in person. His saviors, or so he believed. He was merely waiting until Frank was feeling better and he said he’d pay them a visit. In the meantime, it was reported he was loving his new free life. For the near future he would be staying with a cousin, Gertrude, whom over the years had never stopped believing in his innocence and had kept in touch with him. Lucas needed time to decide what his next move would be and Gertrude was happy to give him that time, and a safe place to transition. Forty years locked up was a long time. The world had changed. Lucas needed time to catch up with it.
When Frank was home from the hospital, Abigail had Samantha drop by the cabin. She and Frank gave her the complete Bradley Weaver story with all the salacious details. Samantha published it in the Weekly Journal, and online, and so the town also learned everything that had happened at the Theiss house the day Abigail had almost been murdered.
The town now knew Lucas Theiss had been proven innocent of the crime of killing his family and had been released from prison. Abigail had sent a copy of the newspaper to Lucas Theiss at his cousin’s house. She and Frank both hoped Lucas would be welcomed back to the community. There was no reason he shouldn’t be.
While Frank was recovering in the hospital, Abigail had completed the paintings of the Theiss house. Deciding on a total of six in the series, she used what she had already begun, her memory, and the photographs of the place, and didn’t physically return to 707 Suncrest. She spent late nights at the kitchen table painting so she could spend the days at the hospital with Frank. She wanted all the paintings to be finished before he came home. The way she figured; it would be best if she could put the nightmare there behind her. Behind them.
But when the paintings were lined up against the walls in her home for her to examine, she was proud of them and believed they were the best she’d ever painted. Each one was on a huge canvas sixty by eighty-four inches. The colors ranged from vibrant golds and crimsons to misty and hauntingly faded blues and grays. One version of the empty house showed it on a bright sunny day; another was in the summer twilight surrounded in fireflies; one was in the fall with the autumn hues highlighting the trees; one was the house as it might have appeared forty years ago before the murders, still shiny and whole; one was the house in the storm with the tornado above it in the dirty green sky; and the last was the house as it looked today with the collapsed wall. Abigail called the six painting collection: Seasons of a Murder House. She’d sent photos of the collection and the story behind them to a prestigious art gallery in St. Louis. The art gallery was crazy over them, and were going to put them on display for viewing and sale the following week. So she guessed she and Frank would be taking a trip to Chicago soon. Perhaps they’d even stay with Laura at her apartment for a night or two. Now that was a good idea.
Their breakfasts arrived at the table. Everyone was talking and laughing around her. They were making plans for the remainder of the summer.
“So,” Irma was conferring with Myrtle, “are we going on that fancy river cruise or not? Did you get the tickets?” The two women, Abigail had been informed by Myrtle, had decided to go on the cruise after all before the wedding. Glinda and Kyle had everything under control they said, so the cruise was on. Irma had gotten her wish. Sooner than later. The cruise wasn’t that long in duration, so why not?
Myrtle, munching on a piece of toast, winked at her friend. When she’d stopped chewing, she answered. “Got those tickets for the cruise right here in my purse.” She gently stroked her bag with her other hand’s fingers. “Ha, and we got seventy-five percent off them...big discount they were having. Something about the last cruise not going so well.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Myrtle mumbled something beneath her breath.
“What?” Irma repeated.
“Uh, I think there was some sort of food poisoning or something.”
“Food poisoning!” Irma’s voice rose to a high pitch.
“Nah, it’s nothing,” Myrtle reassured her friend, dismissing Irma’s alarm. “They’ve fixed it all. Don’t worry. Our food will be perfectly fine and delicious. No food poisoning.
“We even got a deluxe balcony room for the same low price. Two queen size beds. We leave in two days for a five day cruise down the river. I can’t wait. Need to get packing, though.” On this auspicious occasion the old woman was wearing an attractive sky blue sun dress that hung to her feet. The blue was subdued; the material a soft chiffon. It was way too big on her. Abigail had the odd notion the sundress belonged to Glinda. The two were about the same size, except Myrtle was so much shorter than Glinda, the psychic’s dresses would have been way too long. The old woman also sported a wide-brimmed sunhat with miniature silk roses around the rim. She looked good. She looked happy.
“Oh goodie.” Irma clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait, either.”
“Just be sure you don’t end up dying on the cruise, like my last cruise mate.”
Irma grimaced. She knew about Myrtle’s old friend, Tina, who’d died on their Caribbean cruise a couple years before. “That was murder, right? She was thrown overboard for her land, if I recall correctly. No, I don’t expect to be murdered. My shop ain’t worth enough for anyone to want to knock me off. So I think I’m safe. I’m ready to go.”
Their heads down close together, both old women continued to plan their getaway. They were like two kids preparing for Christmas.
Glinda smiled as she ate her muffin, drank her tea and spoke aside in whispery tones to her fiancé Kyle. Probably making wedding arrangements. Their wedding was a month away and they’d already received two wonderful wedding gifts. One from Myrtle and one, unexpectedly, from Doc Andy.
As she’d offered before, as her wedding present to the couple, Myrtle was paying for the wedding ceremony, the food, and the now scheduled luxury two-week honeymoon to Jamaica. She’d insisted and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
The second wedding present was that Doc Andy was staying another two weeks in his practice before retiring so the couple could go on that luxury honeymoon. They wouldn’t have to wait. Glinda and Kyle were thrilled and everyone was thrilled for them. During those two honeymoon weeks it had been agreed that Myrtle would be visited often by either Frank or Abigail. They would have preferred Myrtle stay with them, but Glinda and Myrtle had too many cats for them to be left alone. Someone had to be at their house to care for the creatures. Myrtle had volunteered. Boy, Abigail pondered, how things had changed.
“Hey, Glinda,” Myrtle abruptly switched her attention from Irma and the cruise, “I talked to Kate yesterday. She showed me a picture of the wedding cake she wants to bake you and Kyle. I love it. Chocolate inside, five tiers high, with the creamiest white icing, and beautiful delicate icing roses in a rainbow of hues with swirly green leaves all over the top three levels. It looked so good I wanted to eat it right then. Too bad it was only a photograph. Guess I have to wait for the real thing.” Her lips formed a familiar pout.
“Oh, yeah,” she threw in, “Kate told me to tell you and Kyle to stop by the Delicious Circle today to see the picture yourself before you toddle home. She wants an approval on the cake as soon as possible. She likes to plan ahead. You have to pick the bride and groom topper, as well. I think you ought to pick one with a witch and a doctor on it.” She chuckled. “In their costumes, so to speak. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?” Another chuckle.
“We’ll stop by Kate’s today, Auntie,” Glinda replied, ignoring the crack about the topper. She and Kyle were holding hands and touching shoulder to shoulder. They were so cute. Abigail, as Frank, was always tickled seeing the two lovebirds together.
Abigail was half way through eating her scrambled eggs when Frank nudged her, directing her attention to something outside the diner. “Look who’s here.”
“Oh, my, it’s Silas.” Abigail stood up, her eyes glued on the sight outside. Silas Smith had pulled up in front of Stella’s on a brand new three-wheeled scooter, the kind old people had embraced as their new form of transportation.
She and Frank went through the front doors leading out to the sidewalk where Silas and the scooter were now parked.
“Wow, that’s some ride, Silas,” Frank declared, eying the scooter, walking around it to get a better view. It was stream-lined and had an extra seat behind the driver’s seat. It had a roomy basket on the front.
Silas, getting off the scooter and turning it off with the key, retrieved his cane from the side of the machine where it was attached, and faced them. His eyes swiveled to the window and all the people inside Stella’s busy eating and talking. Some were waving at him. “It is some ride. Goes up to twenty miles an hour. That’s faster than I can walk. One of my friends has one and after I rode on it, I decided I had to have one for myself, since walking these days is so difficult for me.
“This little baby,” he patted the scooter’s handlebars, “now gets me into town and all the other places I want to go just fine. It’s fun, too. I can go almost anywhere now. It can even go over bumpy ground or gravel. Goes into the woods, too. I got the top of the line scooter. The best my treasure money could buy.” The elderly man was dressed in his normal drab clothes with the black fedora on his head. There was the customary leather bag hanging from his shoulder. But these days his fedora and clothes were new, didn’t have holes in them, and the soft leather bag was a high-ended man purse Frank had ordered for him over the Internet. His eyes were still a brilliant blue, but, again, these days they reflected contentedness. Silas was enjoying the treasure money and what was left of his life. He was generous, too. He and Myrtle often visited the nursing homes and helped the poorer or sicker residents get what they needed.
Myrtle took that moment to come outside. “Woowie,” she exclaimed, gawking at the scooter and then at Silas. “I want one of those for myself.” She rapped her cane against the scooter’s side. “Is it hard to operate?”
“Not at all.” Silas bent over and turned the key. “Here, Myrtle, take a little ride on it. See how you like it. It’s not hard to operate. Easy, in fact.”
“Okey-dokey. I’m game. I’ll give it a go.”
Silas took her cane and attached it to the side of the scooter as had been done with his cane. He helped Myrtle get settled on the seat and showed her how the controls worked. “It’s ready to go. This handle makes you go forward, this one backwards. This is where you can make it go slower or faster.” Myrtle listened and before Silas was done explaining, she was off, hollering in glee as she and the scooter raced at its top speed down the sidewalk.
“Wow, look at that old woman go!” Silas declared. The scooter veered off the sidewalk and bumped over the curb, slightly tipping to the right, and continued down the road. “Hope she doesn’t wreck it. I just got it yesterday.”
Abigail and Frank laughed.
“Come back now, Myrtle!” Silas yelled. “That should be enough.”
Myrtle and the scooter, way down the street now, careened around and rushed back. Twice she nearly ran into the side of a building or a sidewalk bench. When she was feet away from the three of them, Myrtle squealed the scooter to a stop. Got off all by herself. “Wow, that was fun. Did you see how fast I went on it? Like the wind. It’s easy to steer. That surprised me. I’m positively getting me one of those. I should have gotten one years ago.” Myrtle’s eyes were twinkling, her cheeks flushed.
“I’ll give you the name of the place I bought the scooter, make and model, price, everything,” Silas told Myrtle as he took the key from the machine.
“Good.” Myrtle nodded. “I’m getting one tomorrow.” She glanced at Frank. “You should get yourself one of these, too, Frank. Until you’re feeling stronger, that is.”
“Thanks for your concern, Myrtle,” Frank responded in a gentle tone, “but I think I’m okay. I don’t need a scooter yet. And I am taking it easy. Abigail is making sure of that. So don’t fret about me.”
“All right,” Myrtle grumbled, “but if you really need to you can borrow my scooter anytime. After I get it. If I’m not using it myself.” She bestowed on him a playful grin.
The group of them reentered Stella’s. Silas wanted breakfast with them before everyone separated and hit the craft booths and then the concert in the park. So he sat down and ordered. Stella, smiling, waited on him right away. Over the last year or so, now that Silas could afford to come in and eat often at the diner, the two had become friendly. Abigail often saw them chatting away in the restaurant at night when the place wasn’t busy.
*****
THE FRIENDS LINGERED at Stella’s longer than they should have, Silas included, finishing their breakfasts and their animated conversations. Myrtle was going on and on about the scooter to Silas and about the cruise to Irma. Glinda and Kyle continued strategizing the wedding and the honeymoon; excitedly making a wish list of what they wanted to see and do on their two weeks away.
The townspeople were still coming by their table to express to Frank and Abby how happy they were they’d both escaped the curse of the Theiss house, what occurred there, and how they had lived to tell people about it. Many of them inquired about Lucas Theiss and what had happened to him since he’d gotten out of prison. Frank let anyone who asked know that he was free and living with his cousin. He was trying to rebuild the life that been stolen from him.
Everyone was having such a good time no one wanted to leave Stella’s. After all, the festival would last through the day and into the evening. When night fell the park would be lit up with twinkling lights outlining the crafts and artists’ booths, and strings of them would be stretched from one tree to another. The park would be a magical place. Abigail suspected she’d have a hard time getting Frank to go home early, but she’d worry about that later.
*****
THEY WERE GETTING READY to vacate Stella’s to head in the direction of the park when Abigail observed Irma staring out the windows as if she was seeing a ghost. By the shock on the woman’s face, and the way her hand covered her mouth, Abigail guessed there was someone or something unusual outside.
Abigail’s eyes went to the window. The face gazing in at them was of an older man, perhaps around sixty, with short gray hair, a sad face and eyes to match. His arms were covered in faded tattoos. The man was tall. His clothes were a simple T-Shirt and blue jeans. He stood there, hands in his pockets, hesitantly watching the people inside. It struck Abigail he was trying to decide if he should come in or not. And, oh, could she sympathize.
An old memory of hers surfaced. The first day she’d driven into Spookie so many years ago, she’d done the same exact thing. Stood outside Stella’s bay window and stared in, not sure if she should enter or not. All the people inside, perhaps like to him today, had seemed clannish, unwelcoming. She’d gone in and her life had changed forever. Now that moment felt so long ago.
His eyes seemed to meet Irma’s and recognition sparked between them. Irma’s face broke into a big smile. She rose from the table and went outside. When Abigail looked again, the old woman was outside hugging the tall man as if she knew him. After they were through embracing, they exchanged words, heads lowered. Then Irma grinned up at the man and, taking his arm, pulled him into the diner. They stopped in front of Abigail, Frank and the others.
“Abigail, Frank, everyone,” Irma announced, her hand still on the stranger’s arm, “I want you to meet Lucas Theiss. An old friend of mine. I knew him and his sisters when they were children. They came into my shop all the time. Lucas has been...away...for a very long time, but is now staying with his cousin. She lives in Spookie, about a mile from here. Lucas came to Stella’s hoping Frank and Abigail might be here. He wanted to meet them. Thank them. His cousin told him about the Summer Festival and how most of us gather here for breakfast. So he thought he’d take a chance and stop by.”
The minute Irma had uttered the man’s name everyone around them fell silent, but they were all watching, listening.
“Hello everyone,” Lucas mouthed in a deep sounding voice, as he turned and waved at the townsfolk around him in the diner. “As Irma said, it’s been a very long time since I was last here in Spookie. The town has really changed. But it’s still as pretty as ever. I love the new park and everything you’ve all done with it. And there are a lot more people.” He modestly glanced down and then back at the diners around him. It was easy to see he was shy around other people.
“There are. The town’s been growing like a weed.” Irma didn’t have to tell anyone sitting at the table where Lucas had been the last four decades. They all knew.
Irma nodded at her and Frank. “Lucas, these are the two people you were looking for. The two people who are responsible for clearing your name and gaining your release.”
Frank stood up and shook the newcomer’s hand. “I’m Frank Lester and this lovely woman beside me is my wife, Abigail. Welcome home, Lucas.” Then he introduced him to the others at the table. Everyone shook Lucas’s hand and welcomed him home. Myrtle jumped up and gave the man a hug. Glinda smiled warmly at him. Kyle was silent, but he sent a friendly nod toward Lucas. Lucas nodded back.
“Take a seat, Lucas.” Irma gestured to an empty chair. “Have a cup of coffee with us. So we can get to know you and you can get to know us. We want you to know you’re welcome here. The whole town does.”
Sitting there, exchanging conversation, they got to know Lucas a little better and he got to know them. Frank plied him with questions and, in between, Lucas asked Frank and Abigail about Bradley Weaver and the day he died at the Theiss house. What the man had said and done. Abigail had been smart enough to take photos on her cell phone of the letters she’d found in the house before she turned them over to Sheriff Mearl. She let Lucas read them. When he was done it looked as if he might cry, but he didn’t.
Instead, he couldn’t stop thanking them for what they’d done for him. “And my family thanks you, too. Now they finally have their justice. They’re in heaven smiling down at us right now.”
Glinda, Myrtle, Kyle and Silas took turns talking with Lucas. Glinda offered to do him a reading for free. Myrtle told him he was welcome after that reading to have coffee and cake with them. Everyone tried to make him feel welcome. It was sweet to see, it touched Abigail, and it had brought tears to Irma’s eyes.
Abigail found, as a person, she liked Lucas. He wasn’t bitter about the time he’d spent in prison; sad, yes, for the family and years he’d lost, but he was happy to be free and to have his name cleared. He hadn’t wasted the years in prison. He’d gotten an education, a master’s degree in psychology and social work. He told them he’d like to help people in any kind of social work he might be able to obtain. The state, before he’d been released, made sure he had a valid driver’s license so he’d be able to get around, find a job, and fit back into society. “I’m still trying to adjust to the real world, get my head straight,” he confessed to her. “The advances in technology alone–computers, cell phones, and so many other amazing devices–makes my head spin. Oh, I had access to some of that in jail, but not all. I have so much to learn.”
“I might be able to help you find a job.” Frank seemed serious. “I have connections.”
“He knows a lot of people,” Abigail interjected.
“I can use all the help I can get.” Lucas smiled and Abigail had the idea he didn’t smile much, or hadn’t before. Possibly now he’d smile more often.
It was Myrtle who had the nerve to ask about the house. His family’s house. “I checked with Martha Sikeston, our realtor friend who’s been off visiting another friend of hers in California the last month, over the phone, and she said you still own the house. That it had belonged to your family, no mortgage when they died, and that your cousin–Gertrude is it? –”
“Yes, Gertrude,” Lucas inserted.
“Yes, Gertrude...she’s been paying the taxes this whole time you’ve been gone. So it’s yours. What are you going to do about the house? It has plenty of ghosts. And you know it’s falling apart?”
“I know. To both things. The ghosts, if there are any, don’t bother me. They’re my family, after all, and they loved me. They’re no danger to me.” Lucas gave Myrtle a timid smile. “And a house can be repaired.”
Abigail was listening attentively. She’d also showed Lucas photos from her phone of the six portraits she’d painted of his empty house. He’d been despondent at the state it had fallen into. But he’d thought the paintings were amazingly haunting. He’d stared at Abigail as if he couldn’t believe she’d created them.
Lucas then surprised all of them. “I’ve been out to the house and have made a decision. I’m going to renovate it. Fix it up and live in it. It’s not the house’s fault what happened there. I have many, many fond memories of my childhood and my family living there. I don’t want to walk away from those. It’s all I have left of them. Memories.” He gave them a hopeful smile. “I know it won’t be easy. I don’t have much money, but I’ll do most of the work myself. Take my time. Scrubbing and painting doesn’t cost that much. It still has all the furniture. All of it needs a good cleaning, but I can handle that, too.”
Myrtle then spoke up. “Lucas, the town owes you something, I believe. We should have believed you back then. We didn’t. We’re sorry.” Then a grin spread across her face. “And I have an idea how we can make some of it up to you. Glinda and I will set up a Go-Fund-Me page thingy on the Internet to raise money for your house remodeling. Facebook loves helping someone wronged as you’ve been. We’ll start a donation fund here in town, too. All the businesses will donate, as well, I bet. It’ll raise more money for you. To live on and make that house habitable again. Hey, we’ll even help you ourselves, and anyone else we can draft, with the clean-up. Won’t we, Abigail? Frank? Everyone?”
Everyone nodded or echoed the word yes, grinning at Lucas.
“And I’m fairly handy with a hammer and a nail-gun,” Frank offered. “You can count on me for that anyway. Not bad with plumbing, either.”
Abigail was proud of them. That was another thing Abigail loved about Spookie. The town had a heart. People helped each other without asking for anything back.
“I won’t turn down anyone’s help. I’m not proud,” Lucas stated gratefully. “How can I thank all of you?”
“You’re one of us. You’ve always been one of us,” Myrtle told him. “You don’t need to thank us.”
“Lucas,” Abigail was the one to give the offer, “how about coming with us to the park? Our son, Nick, and his band are playing there in a little while. There’ll also be lots of good festival food and craft booths for you to wander among. It’ll be a way for you to meet more of the townspeople and they to meet you. If you’re up to it?”
“I’m up to it. Let’s go.” Lucas was still smiling. “I’m ready. I’m more than ready.”
Then the group of them got up and left Stella’s, went to the park. Irma held on to Lucas’s arm and the two continued to catch up with each other. Glinda and Kyle hung near the rear, giggling and kissing each other when no one was looking. But Abigail saw.
Silas followed down the sidewalk behind them on his new scooter, with Myrtle on the back seat laughing and waving her arms. “Look at me! I’m riding on a fancy scooter. Yahoo! Faster, Silas, faster!” She giggled like a young girl and lightly slapped his sides with her fingers.
Abigail and Frank clasped hands as they strolled to the park and all around them was sunshine and laughter. Abigail looked at her family and friends and couldn’t stop smiling. She was happy to be there, too, to be alive. Frank feeling better. Ryan safe home from Africa. Lucas now a free man. What a great ending for a turbulent summer.
They had a wedding to look forward to. Soon they’d have a daughter-in-law they loved, and a son who would become the town’s doctor. Frank was as a content as a squirrel with a pile of nuts because, not only was he feeling better, his son would be living in Spookie for the first time in years.
She’d also locked in Thanksgiving dinner and not only were all her remaining siblings, Mary, Carol and Jimmy, promising to travel from their homes to attend–Frank would drive up himself and collect Claudia’s sister, Cordelia, so she could attend–but Laura and Nick’s brothers and sisters were all coming, too. She and Frank would have to have two turkeys to feed them all. And they’d have a house full for sure, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t wait. A family and friend reunion for the holiday. How marvelous.
Now if she could only keep Myrtle from springing a crazy new mystery on them...all would be well. Life would be beautiful in her world, her town. Fingers crossed.
The end.
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IF YOU’D BE SO KIND please leave a brief but honest review of this book for me. I would so appreciate it.
This was the sixth Spookie Town Murder Mystery. Here are the first five:
~ Book #1 Scraps of Paper
~ Book #2 All Things Slip Away
~ Book # 3 Ghosts Beneath Us
~ Book #4 Witches Among Us
~ Book #5 What Lies Beneath the Graves
Seventh Spookie Town Murder Mystery coming in 2020...
*NOTE: If you would like more murder mysteries than just these Spookie Town Murder Mysteries, I also have two other stand-alone murder mysteries...The Ice Bridge and Winter’s Journey.
* And if you liked this book you might try any one of my other 28 published novels and 12 short stories because I also write and publish horror, romantic horror, time-travel, and murder mysteries.
*All Kathryn Meyer Griffith’s books can be found in
eBooks everywhere, paperbacks and audio books.
***
ABOUT Kathryn Meyer Griffith...
Since childhood I’ve been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. But I’d already begun writing novels at 21, over forty-eight years ago now, and have had twenty-nine (romantic horror, thrillers, SF Thrillers, horror novels, romantic SF horror, romantic suspense, romantic time travel, historical romance and murder mysteries) novels, two novellas and thirteen short stories published from many traditional publishers since 1984. But since 2012 I’ve gone into self-publishing in a big way; and upon getting some of my older books’ full rights back for the first time in 33 years, self-published all of them along with my newer novels. My five Dinosaur Lake novels and six Spookie Town Mysteries (Scraps of Paper, All Things Slip Away, Ghosts Beneath Us, Witches Among Us, What Lies Beneath the Graves, and All Those Who Came Before) are my best-sellers.
I’ve been married to Russell for over forty-one years; have a son, two grandchildren and a great granddaughter, and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois. We have a quirky cat, Sasha, and the three of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk/classic rock singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die...or until my memory goes.
2012 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS *Finalist* for her horror novel The Last Vampire ~ 2014 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS * Finalist * for her thriller novel Dinosaur Lake.
*All Kathryn Meyer Griffith’s books can be found in
eBooks everywhere, paperbacks and audio books.
Novels and short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:
Evil Stalks the Night, The Heart of the Rose, Blood Forged, Vampire Blood, The Last Vampire (2012 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS*Finalist* in their Horror category), Witches, Witches II: Apocalypse, Witches plus bonus Witches II: Apocalypse, The Nameless One erotic horror short story, The Calling, Scraps of Paper (The First Spookie Town Murder Mystery), All Things Slip Away (The Second Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Ghosts Beneath Us (The Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Witches Among Us (The Fourth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), What Lies Beneath the Graves (The Fifth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), All Those Who Came Before (The Sixth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Seventh Spookie Town Murder Mystery coming in 2020...
Egyptian Heart, Winter’s Journey, The Ice Bridge, Don’t Look Back, Agnes, A Time of Demons and Angels, The Woman in Crimson, Human No Longer, Four Spooky Short Stories Collection, Forever and Always Romantic Novella, Night Carnival Short Story, Dinosaur Lake (2014 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS*Finalist* in their Thriller/Adventure category), Dinosaur Lake II: Dinosaurs Arising, Dinosaur Lake III: Infestation, Dinosaur Lake IV: Dinosaur Wars, Dinosaur Lake V: Survivors, Memories of My Childhood (short story collection) and my Christmas Magic 1959 non-fiction autobiographical short story.
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All Those Who Came Before
by Kathryn Meyer Griffith
(The sixth Spookie Town Murder Mystery)
Cover art by: Dawné Dominique
Copyright 2020 Kathryn Meyer Griffith
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form,
including digital and electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without
the prior written consent of the author, except for
brief quotes for use in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names,
places and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.