Harry picked Bertie up at nine the following morning. He had talked to Miss Bishop the previous evening. She was working from home today and could meet with them at ten, and it was just under an hour’s drive. They used the time to discuss what they knew about Whitley’s ghost and the information Bertie had found.
Miss Bishop lived the third floor of a modern, sprawling, six-floor building. Harry and Bertie entered the lobby, walked into the elevator and pushed the third floor button.
“Do you have the apartment number?” Bertie asked.
“Yep, 309,” he said as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. A sign beside the doors showed the direction they needed to go. Several minutes later, Harry knocked on the apartment door.
“Who’s there?” a voice called from inside.
Harry and Bertie both gave their names and the door opened. “I’m Molly. Please come in.”
She led them into the living room. “You said you’re interested in why I thought my last apartment was haunted. May I ask why?”
“The young man living there now also thinks it’s haunted,” Harry said, “We’d like to compare your stories.”
“Oh my goodness! Where do you want me to start?”
“Start at the beginning. Tell us how it all started, if you don’t mind.”
Molly nodded. “Okay. Two friends convinced me to go on a weekend camping trip. We borrowed a small motor home from the parents of one of them. I didn’t know they planned to visit a ghost town.”
“They didn’t tell you?” Bertie asked.
“If they had, I wouldn’t have gone,” Molly said. “There wasn’t much to see so we didn’t stay long, but on the way back, we learned that the road had just been blocked by a rockslide. We had to go back and spend the night in the old town. It got windy but none of us was sure that the wind was all we heard. We also thought we saw shadowy figures, but wouldn’t admit we were scared.”
“Would it be safe to say you didn’t get much sleep that night?”
“Not a wink, Mr. Hogan. As soon as we got word the road was open, our driver was waiting to start the engine. We hadn’t even had breakfast, so we stopped at a cafe in the next town. We had stopped there before and the waitress remembered us. After we told her we’d been stuck out there all night, she asked if we had been outside at any time after dark.”
“Did she explain why?” Harry asked.
Molly nodded. “Local legend says that if you are outside after dark, when the ghosts are active, a ghost imprints on you, hides in your vehicle and follows you home. I was too scared to admit that I had sneaked out to take pictures of the full moon. I tried to convince myself that there was no place for a ghost to hide in such a small motor home.”
“When did you first notice signs of ghost activity?” Bertie asked.
“No more than two or three days later.”
“Tell us what you experienced,” Harry said.
“Sudden cold drafts around my ankles… cold shivers when the room was warm… whisper-soft sounds like someone walking in soft slippers. And I knew one of the ghosts had followed me home. I tried to ignore it, but it got worse.”
