A ghost story, kinda V

Annemarie wasn’t special or anything like that, actually it was the exact opposite, like I said it’s better that I tell you about these things because there was no way Daray could have said that to her face. Annemarie was there and could be talked to. That was all that had been necessary for her to be tapped to be of use to them.

I have also realized that due to stereotypes you most likely think that the house Daray wants to hold onto is a place that is special to him. Nothing could in fact be farther from the truth. He didn’t even find it until after he was already dead. No one enjoys being homeless, not even a ghost, and finding an abandoned old house he had simply moved in. He tried to keep it in good shape as best as he could, there are only limited things that can be done by ghosts and it was impossible for him work on the outside of the house because people would have noticed. The best that he could really manage was preventing doorways from squeaking and dusting. Even though he had no living connection with the house however he had grown used to living there and wasn’t keen on giving it up now that he had been taking care of it for so long.

They drove up to an old Victorian house, with a foreclosure notice pasted on its door, and the lawyer motioned for Annemarie to get out. The lawyer produced a key and they went in. This house wasn’t as well cared for as Daray’s was, the door did actually squeak and Annemarie nearly jumped out of her skin the first time she stepped on a lose floorboard.

“Are we trespassing,” she asked. This was a very silly question since the lawyer had had the key, but if I haven’t made this entirely clear; Annemarie isn’t a genius, though nor is she stupid. Besides it had been a strange night already and I suppose I have to allow her some credit for being able to think at all. Never having been in a situation like this myself I can’t say how I would have reacted.

“No, I am in charge of this house for the family, they moved out a few months ago. Lawyers shouldn’t break the law and I try not to,” the lawyer said, but she didn’t sound insulted by the question.

“We’re here to meet the person said I wanted you to meet,” added Daray. “Mrs. Williamson, where are you,” he called out into the dark and suddenly there was a tall, thin, old lady in front of them.

“It’s you Daray,” she said and she looked him over with obvious disproval. “Didn’t I tell you to dress in proper clothing the next time you came to see me? And who is this?” she asked, peering nearsightedly at Annemarie.

“I’m Annemarie, but as to why I’m here, you’ll have to ask Daray that,” Annemarie said.

“We’ve come for your money Mrs. Williamson. You said I could have it if I could find someone to pick it up,” Daray said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind of course and decided to allow your descendants to find it, they are still looking for it aren’t they?”

“They are, and they won’t have a penny of it. I earned that money and saved it well. Not one cent did I spend that I could save in my life, nor did I trust it to any bank but kept it safe in this house. No sooner am I gone then my ungrateful nephew sets about to find where I had kept it. I have watched with the greatest enjoyment as they have worn themselves out over the last century, and they still haven’t given up.”

To be continued...