The Phantom Photograph Read online

The

  Phantom

  Photograph

  The Haunted Seniors of Specter County: book 2

  By Sandra Whinnem

  Cover design by Rita Toews/ Art by KJPargeter

  Copyright 2015 Sandra Whinnem

  Thank you for downloading this eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite eBook retailer to discover other works by this author. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  In loving memory of Zena

  Chapter 1

  All was quiet in the Museum of Human History, which was closed for the evening.

  Two museum guards stood watch over the Exhibit of Ancient Civilizations. In the center of the display, three gold coins sparkled in a glass case.

  One of the guards yawned. “I tell you, Stan, I’ll never get used to working the night shift,” he complained to his partner.

  Stan nodded, though he was not at all sleepy. He looked at his watch; it was after midnight.

  Almost time, he thought.

  “I hear you, Howard; I’m tired too. I’m going to stretch my legs,” Stan lied.

  Howard nodded tiredly, and yawned again.

  Stan strolled to the end of the room, where a video camera hung from the ceiling; focused on the glass display case.

  Stan walked beneath the camera, out of its viewing range. He casually dropped his name badge near a large trash can before heading to a display of Egyptian artifacts. He passed a mummy wrapped in cloth, and models of pyramids and sphinxes.

  When Howard looked away, Stan climbed inside a stone sarcophagus, crouched down, and put his fingers in his ears.

  A moment later, the garbage can exploded with terrific force. Debris rained down around Stan; who was protected by the ancient stone coffin. The blast had completely destroyed the surveillance camera and blew a hole through the side of the building, revealing the night sky.

  Alarm bells rang and water sprayed from the overhead fire sprinklers.

  Stan emerged from the sarcophagus and picked his way over the wreckage to the glass case. He smashed it with his nightstick, and took the ancient gold coins.

  Stan paused, and looked at Howard, lying unconscious among the rubble. The injured museum guard moaned as Stan walked past.

  I hope he’s not too badly hurt, Stan thought.

  He took a small object from his pocket. It was a molar he’d extracted from his own jaw.

  I plan to be the only death here, he thought, as he tossed the tooth amongst the wreckage.

  Chapter 2

  Henry walked across his apartment building’s parking lot toward the senior center, where a bundle of newspapers waited on the sidewalk. After untying the bundle, he began carefully rolling the newspapers and placing them in his worn satchel. As he worked, an elderly woman passed by.

  “Hello, Henry,” she said.

  “Hi, Mrs. Michaud,” Henry replied, looking up from his papers. He noticed the little old lady held a large bag along with her cane and her purse, and was tottering unsteadily toward the senior center stairs.

  Henry dropped his satchel. “Wait, Mrs. Michaud!” he called, hurrying to her before she reached the steps. “Here, let me take that,” he said, taking the bag and offering his arm.

  Mrs. Michaud smiled gratefully and held tightly to the boy’s elbow as they climbed the stairs. “Careful, Henry,” she warned “My glass punch bowl is in that bag. I’m loaning it to Sal and Phyllis for their wedding reception… I hear you’re going to be the ring bearer, is that right?”

  “Yeah,” Henry answered. “I’ve never been in a wedding before,” he added nervously.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine,” the old lady reassured him and patted his arm.

  They entered the senior center, and as they walked through the building, Henry was greeted warmly by the elderly people they encountered. Wanda, who was recovering from a hip replacement, kissed Henry’s cheek and thanked him for feeding her cats while she was in the hospital. They then came upon Smitty, a bald man with a white moustache who enjoyed regaling Henry with tales of his misspent youth.

  “Henry! How have you been?” Smitty began when he spotted the boy. “Say, have I ever told you about the time I lost my clothes while sneaking a swim at the churchyard pond?” The old man didn’t wait for Henry to answer before proceeding. “Well, it wouldn’t have been so bad, except there was a funeral service taking place that day and…”

  “Smitty!” Mrs. Michaud interrupted. “Can’t you see the boy is on a mission?”

  Henry nodded, pointed to the bag, and waved to Smitty as they walked on. Henry usually enjoyed listening to the old man’s stories, but his fragile cargo was getting heavy, and Smitty could go on for hours, if you let him.

  They reached the ballroom where the reception was to take place. Henry put the bag on the table and said goodbye to Mrs. Michaud.

  “See you at the wedding!” she called after him.

  Henry’s stomach flip-flopped at the mention of the upcoming wedding. It was an important occasion, and he’d be performing his duty as ring-bearer in front of a large audience.

  On his way out of the senior center, Henry cringed as he held the door for a group of old ladies entering the building. They reeked of perfume and wore lots of make-up and jewelry. One of the women stopped to thank Henry; she petted him on the head as though he were a dog, and gushed about his superior door-holding skills.

  “You’re welcome, Miss Agnes,” Henry replied warily.

  Agnes opened her purse and took out a bill. “There’s a good boy; here you go,” she said, offering Henry the money.

  Henry blushed. “No, thank you… it was nothing; really,” he insisted, taking a step back.

  Agnes reached out and shoved the bill into Henry’s satchel. “There,” she said, “now you can buy yourself something nice… perhaps a haircut.” Agnes looked disdainfully at Henry’s shaggy brown locks.

  “Er… um… thank you,” Henry finally said, deciding that it would be easier to accept the money than to try to argue with the stubborn old lady.

  Henry exited the Senior Center to the sound of Agnes pompously declaring the virtues of charity to her friends, Mildred and Priscilla; who eagerly agreed that it was their sovereign duty to help the poor unfortunates of the world.

  Once outside and away from Agnes, Henry heaved a sigh of relief. As he finished rolling his papers, he wondered which was worse: the old Agnes; who yelled insults and threatened to call the cops when he held the door for her, or the new Agnes; who somehow managed to be even more haughty and patronizing in her attempts to be nice. Henry shouldered his bag and began delivering his newspapers to the houses along his route.

  He paused in front of a small, yellow home that once received a daily paper. A ‘For Sale’ sign hung in the yard. The kitchen window was boarded up, and the grass was overgrown. Henry sighed.

  Ernest and Betty would have never allowed the house look like this while they were alive, he thought sadly. Several birdhouses hung from a dogwood tree in the yard, swaying in the breeze. His throat tightened as he remembered the happy hours he and Ernest spent while building the tiny structures. He recalled the old man’s patience while teaching him how to use his beloved woodworking tools, and Betty’s cheerful smile, as she brought them snacks and lemonade.

  Henry smiled when he saw a sparrow enter one of the birdhouses with a twig in its beak.

  The For Sale sign creaked on its hinges; the noise seemed to make the back of Henry’s neck prickle. I hope the new owners will allow the
birds to stay, he thought.

  As Henry turned away, there was a motion in the upstairs window of the empty house. The curtains parted, and then dropped back in place as if moved by a pair of invisible hands.

  Chapter 3

  Phyllis frowned as she rummaged through the enormous handbag that sat upon her walker.

  “Aha!” Phyllis exclaimed triumphantly. She began pulling a length of lacy material from the huge bag. As she pulled, a box of toothpicks, a shoehorn, and can of sardines came out with it; tumbling to the floor around her feet.

  A muffled bark sounded just before a tiny dog leaped from the big bag. The dog began retrieving the stray items, jumping back onto the walker to deposit them in the colossal purse.

  “Thank you, Teeny,” Phyllis said, petting the helpful little dog. Teeny wagged his tail proudly and licked the little old lady’s hand.

  Phyllis was at Sal’s house, trying to make some final decisions for their upcoming wedding. Later, they were going to the airport to meet Phyllis’ son, Ryan, who was flying in from California for the big day.

  Phyllis shook out the lacy material; it was an antique wedding veil. She needed to decide whether or not she was going to wear it during the ceremony.

  Phyllis glanced at a photo on the shelf above the fireplace. She paused; and despite the joyous upcoming event, Phyllis sighed with a deep sadness.

  Betty, Phyllis’s best friend for over sixty years, had died recently. Phyllis couldn’t imagine having her wedding without her.

  Phyllis took the photo from the mantle. The image showed Phyllis and Sal, along with their late friends, Betty and Ernest, standing in front of a waterfall. Ernest sported a white beard and wore a tee-shirt that read ‘Old Fart’. His arm was around Betty, who was smiling. Phyllis and Sal stood together, holding hands. Teeny was pictured as an even teenier puppy, peeking out of Phyllis’s ever-present handbag. The spray from the waterfall sparkled in the sunlight, creating a strange glow around Betty and Ernest.

  Phyllis traced her finger around the frame and pressed the photo to her chest before placing it back on the shelf. She put the veil on her head and looked at herself in the mirror above the mantle.

  I look like an elderly beekeeper, Phyllis thought.

  “Nnngh?” said Teeny. The tiny dog cocked his head when he saw Phyllis draped in the sheer fabric.

  “Well, what do you think, Betty?” Phyllis asked the photo in a wistful voice.

  In the picture, Betty frowned and shook her head.

  Phyllis blinked and peered closely at the photo. After she pulled the wedding veil off for better look, Betty was smiling again.

  Phyllis snatched the photo off the mantle and held it close to her face.

  “Teeny, can you get my glasses?” she asked the tiny white dog. She sat on the edge of the couch, inspecting the photo.

  Teeny barked, and dove inside Phyllis’s giant purse. The sides of the bag rippled, and after a moment, he reemerged with an eyeglass case in his mouth. He brought the case to Phyllis, and placed it on her lap.

  “Good boy!” Phyllis praised the clever dog.

  Phyllis opened the eyeglass case with difficulty; her hands were stiff with arthritis. After placing her glasses on her tiny, wrinkled nose, she peered at the photo again, which now appeared to be quite ordinary.

  Phyllis sighed again.

  Maybe I just imagined it, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, Phyllis thought.

  “Phyllis… Are you ready? It’s time to go to the airport,” Sal called to her from the kitchen. Phyllis smiled when she heard Sal’s voice. Teeny leaped onto Phyllis’ walker and plunged inside the huge purse.

  “We’re coming!” Phyllis called back to her husband-to-be.

  As an afterthought, Phyllis tucked the photo into the giant bag as well.

  *****

  Sal and Phyllis listened to the car radio on the way to the airport. The news announcer said:

  “Three priceless coins are missing after an explosion rocked The Museum of Human History. One museum guard suffered minor injuries in the blast, while another guard is still missing. An identification badge belonging to the missing museum guard has been recovered in the wreckage, along with dental remains that have yet to be identified. Police have mounted a desperate search…”

  Phyllis turned the radio off and turned to her fiancé.

  “Sal,” she began, “I think it may have happened again… the photo, I mean.”

  Sal raised his bushy white eyebrows. He knew exactly which photo Phyllis was talking about; it was a haunted, magical picture. On the day Sal proposed to Phyllis, the figures in the photograph had inexplicably changed positions, and Ernest had winked at them from his new pose.

  Phyllis explained how she saw Betty shake her head and frown when she tried on her veil.

  Sal listened as he drove. Phyllis took the photo out of her big bag and looked at it again, but it still appeared to be just a common, everyday picture.

  “Perhaps I just imagined it,” Phyllis said. She handed the photo to Teeny, who stowed it back in the giant purse.

  “Maybe not, Phyllis,” Sal said thoughtfully. “Lately, I’ve been getting that… feeling again. Do you remember that prickly sensation we felt every time a mysterious event occurred?” Sal touched the back of his neck.

  Phyllis nodded. “Yes, I’ve felt it, too. I sometimes think Ernest and Betty are still here, watching over us.” Phyllis paused for moment before adding, “I feel bad that we didn’t believe Betty… when she tried to tell us about Ernest’s ghost.”

  Sal patted Phyllis’ knee. “I do, too… but you have to admit, claiming to see a ghost sounds pretty far-fetched; and Betty’s dementia didn’t exactly help her credibility.”

  Phyllis nodded and sighed deeply. “I just wish we’d realized the truth while she was still alive,” she said sadly.

  The couple had arrived at Specter County Airport, and Sal turned into the parking lot.

  “Betty’s right, of course.” Phyllis muttered as they parked the car. “It’s a rather ugly veil…”

  Chapter 4

  Ryan sat in the airport terminal, waiting for his mother and Sal. He was a tall, handsome man, who still had a youthful look about him, even though his dark hair was shot with grey.

  Ryan turned to say something to Mike; forgetting for a moment that he was alone.

  Ryan and Mike were twins, and had spent most of their lives together. They were both veterinarians, and had opened an animal hospital in California; Twin Vet Animal Hospital, they named it.

  They both wanted to attend their mother’s wedding, but one of them needed to keep the animal hospital running, and Mike offered to remain behind.

  Ryan heard a disturbance at the airport security checkpoint. A man was arguing with the airport security officer. The man wore a blue baseball hat and clung possessively to the handle of a wheeled pet carrier.

  “Sir, I assure you that these routine checks are done for the safety of all travelers…” the security officer tried to explain.

  “Oh, for the love of Pete…” the man with the baseball cap interrupted, “My dog has been stuck in this crate for hours. Can’t you just let us by, so I can get her outside to pee?”

  The dog inside the crate whimpered pathetically. The overworked security officer looked inside the crate and sighed. “Sir, I’m really not supposed to do this, but if you can at least empty your pockets, I will allow you and your dog to pass without any further delay,” the security guard grudgingly relented.

  The man with the baseball hat grumbled as he emptied his pockets, but Ryan saw that the man wore a sly smile as he pushed the pet crate past the security checkpoint.

  “Yoo-hoo, Ryan!”

  Ryan turned when he heard his mother’s voice. He hurried to Phyllis and hugged her tight. Phyllis found it very strange, to see Ryan without Mike nearby.

  “I’ve missed you,” she told her son.

  “Yeah mom, we…”

  Ryan
paused.

  “…I mean, I missed you too,” Ryan corrected himself.

  Phyllis felt a pang of sympathy when she realized that Ryan was missing his twin as well.

  Sal stepped forward and offered Ryan his hand. “Thanks for coming out for our big day. It means a lot to us.”

  “Hello, Sal. I’m glad to be here,” Ryan replied, shaking Sal’s hand.

  Sal looked just as Ryan remembered him. He was thin and slightly stooped from leaning on his cane. He had a bald spot on top of his head surrounded by a horseshoe- shaped fringe of white hair. While Sal looked like a typical old man, he seemed radiate a feeling of quiet dependability that made Ryan feel at ease.

  Teeny poked his head out of Phyllis’ giant handbag and whined to get Ryan’s attention.

  “Teeny!” Ryan said, noticing the tiny dog. He picked Teeny up and looked him over.

  “Teeny looks very healthy, Mom… it’s amazing how far he’s come. When I first saw him at All Paws Animal Shelter, I didn’t think he was going to make it,” Ryan remarked, placing Teeny back in the giant handbag.

  “But Lana refused to give up on him,” he added. Ryan smiled at the thought of the plucky shelter owner.

  “It’s a good thing she didn’t… I couldn’t imagine life without Teeny now,” Phyllis said, giving her little dog a scratch under his chin. “Speaking of All Paws Animal Shelter, when Lana heard you were coming, she asked if you’d be willing to volunteer your veterinary services again,” Phyllis said.

  “Sure, I’d be happy to help Lana while I’m in town.” Ryan patted a leather bag slung over his shoulder; it was a well-stocked veterinary kit, which Ryan took with him wherever he went. “I could even bring Teeny to the shelter so he could visit his old friends.” Ryan added.

  “Actually, Teeny goes there quite often,” said Phyllis. “Henry helps out at the shelter now, and he sometimes brings Teeny along.”

  “You’ve grown quite fond of Henry, haven’t you?” Ryan noted.

  “We both have,” Sal said softly. “Shall we get going?”

  Ryan nodded, shouldered his medical bag, and grabbed the handle of his rolling suitcase. As he pulled, one of the wheels fell off.

  Ryan sighed with annoyance. “It’s been doing that for the entire trip from California.” He picked up the suitcase. “I guess I’ll have to carry it.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?” Sal asked, pointing to the wheel.