“Yeah, he’s only eighteen.” John flashed her a wry grin. “I asked. He’ll turn nineteen in August.”
“Here we are,” Judy said, stopping in front of the saloon. “This is it. I’m going to meet my great-great-grandfather’s ghost.”
“You are, and then we’ll guide him into the light.” Meredith opened the door and held the lantern high enough to light their way.
Her heart flipped at the sight of Daniel, and she gazed around the saloon at the linger of ghosts watching her. At least they remained quiet. “Daniel and Frederick are waiting for us.”
She led them to the table and indicated where they should sit. “Mr. Klein, this is Judy Schulte, your great-great-granddaughter.”
“Where do I look?” Judy whispered.
“He’s directly across from you, and he’s … emotional right now.” Frederick appeared to be weeping and smiling at the same time. “This is Judy’s husband, John.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” John said, his tone hesitant. The ghost ignored him and focused entirely on Judy.
“Tell my granddaughter it does my heart more good than she can imagine to lay eyes upon her. Doing so means my family survived without me. I’ve been … so very worried for them.” The ghost peered intently at Judy. “From which of my children’s line is she?”
Meredith shared what he said, and tears filled Judy’s eyes as well. “You can speak directly to him,” she reminded her.
“Your daughter Ellen was my great-grandmother, and her son George is my grandfather. He’s in his nineties now. He’s sharp as a tack, but he has difficulty getting around. Your children flourished, and so did Prudence. Not long after you died, the family resettled in what would become the town of Missoula. They opened another diner there. Once your sons were adults, the family built a fine hotel with a very nice restaurant. It still stands to this day.”
“That’s… good. Did my dear Prudence remarry? I … I need to know that she was happy. I tried so many times to tell her … I needed to … should’ve …”
He seemed to drift off, so Meredith relayed what he’d said.
“Is that what you tried to tell Prudence when you appeared to her so many times?” Judy swiped at her cheeks. “No, she never remarried, but she was happy. Ellen kept journals, and she wrote often about how beloved Prudence was by their growing families and everyone in the community who knew her.”
“You don’t understand. I need to tell my wife …” Frederick shook his head, consternation suffusing his ghostly features, but then he seemed to sharpen, appearing more well-defined as if he’d intentionally pulled himself together. “I was worried for my family. I had kept something important from my wife, something I meant to tell her, but I never had the chance.” He glanced at Daniel and then at Meredith.
“We all knew any claim holders who struck ore ran the risk of being robbed and murdered. I never believed it would happen to me, but I suspected it was only a matter of time before whoever was behind the crimes also robbed the bank.” Frederick reached across the table and placed his ghostly hand on Judy’s arm. “I took steps to—”
“Is he touching me?” Judy sucked in a breath. “I feel … something.”
“Yes. He’s resting his hand on your arm.” Meredith nodded encouragement to Frederick. “You can tell Judy what you never got the chance tell your wife, Mr. Klein. Doing so will bring you peace.”
“I will … find peace … at … long … last?” He heaved a ghostly sigh. “I believe the assayer had something to do with the murders and thefts. How else would the thieves have known when one of us started producing decent hauls? How else would they have chosen their victims?”
“You’re right. That damned Joe Biggs.” Daniel shot up and began pacing around the table. “I never did like doing business with that weasel, but we had no choice. He was the only assayer in town.”
“Give me a moment, you two. I need to tell the Schultes what has been said so far.” As she brought Judy and her husband up to speed, she couldn’t help noticing Frederick seemed more present in the moment, more animated somehow. They were getting closer to the point where he’d unburden himself. Now that he knew his family had done well after his demise, he’d be ready to leave.
“Please continue, Mr. Klein,” she said once she’d finished relaying all that had been said.
“Call me Frederick.” He lifted his ghostly chin. “I was careful to hide what I was doing. I never took the same route in or out of town two times in a row, so I wouldn’t be an easy victim. One third of our money I put in the bank, and the rest I hid in a strongbox on our claim. I kept a small fortune there so we wouldn’t lose everything should the bank be robbed. But then the three got to me, and … I hadn’t told my wife.”
“The box is still where you hid it.” Meredith leaned back in her chair. “That’s what has kept you here for so long.” She turned to the Schultes. “Frederick hid a fortune before he died. He appeared to your great-great-grandmother so many times because he was trying to tell her where he’d stashed the money. He worried about the family he loved so very much.”
“Frederick, can you lead Meredith to the place where you hid the money?” Daniel asked.
“I can.” His features softened as he gazed at Judy. “Shall we go there now?”
“I think it would be best to wait until we have daylight. The terrain around here is rocky and rough, and I don’t want to risk hiking in the dark. The park closes at 5:00 PM tomorrow.” Meredith rose from the table. “Shall we meet here at closing time?”
“Not … here.” Frederick gazed around the room at the many silent, ghostly spectators who watched and listened.
“Where then?” she asked. The ghosts could not do
