Read Online The Ghost and the Mystery Writer by Anna J. McIntyre - Free Book Online

an acquaintance than a friend. In fact, I only just met her a short while ago.”
    â€œYou loathed the woman,” Walt smirked.
    Ignoring Walt’s comment, Danielle said, “I met her through the historical society. She was a board member. I think I’ve mentioned her before. She was the one who found the gold coins at Ian’s house.”
    Abandoning the partially eaten sandwich on her plate, Hillary looked over at Danielle with keen interest. “She was the one who thought she should be able to keep them, right?”
    â€œYeah, that’s what she thought. But now the poor woman is dead.”
    â€œDo you know the details?” Hillary asked.
    Danielle shrugged. “Not really. Probably no more than what Joanne told you.”
    â€œI don’t believe that,” Walt scoffed.
    â€œSo what did you do today?” Danielle asked.
    â€œMy muse finally spoke to me!” Hillary said brightly.
    â€œYou started your book?”
    â€œOh yes. I’ve been writing all day. It’s so exhilarating. Nothing like it; when a story grabs me, I can do nothing but write.”
    â€œShe’s not kidding,” Walt said. “She was still up when I went to the attic last night after midnight, and this morning, when I came back downstairs, I could hear her clicking away on a typewriter. I thought you told me people don’t use typewriters anymore?”
    â€œI’ve been meaning to ask you, I noticed the typewriter in your room. Don’t you write on a computer?” Danielle asked.
    â€œI don’t like writing on a computer,” Hillary told her. “Stifles my creativity. Mr. Royal has been my loyal assistant for over fifty years.”
    Danielle frowned. “Mr. Royal?”
    â€œMy Royal typewriter. It belonged to my father.”
    â€œI didn’t realize you could still buy typewriter ribbon,” Danielle muttered.
    â€œCertainly.”
    â€œI saw her typewriter,” Walt told Danielle. “It isn’t even an electric one.”
    â€œCan you tell me what your story’s about?” Danielle asked.
    Hillary’s thin pale lips crinkled as she broke into a sly smile. “I never talk about my story during the early stage. It’s bad luck. But I must say, I feel good about this one. I knew coming to Marlow House was the right thing for me.”
    â€œHow do you mean?” Danielle asked.
    â€œI’ve been experiencing such a bad case of writer’s block. Something told me coming here would prime my creative pump and it has! When I returned from my walk last night, I felt exhilarated! I just knew my dry spell was over!”
    â€œI’m happy for you.” Danielle smiled.
    Hillary stood up and carried her plate to the sink. “If you’ll excuse me, Danielle. I need to get back to work. I’ll keep my door closed, but if my typing bothers you, please let me know. I could always come downstairs and write.”
    â€œNo, your typing doesn’t bother me. I’ve never even heard it.”
    â€œWonderful.” Hillary started to rinse her plate off, but Danielle told her to leave it, she would take care of it. Grateful, Hillary flashed Danielle a smile, set the plate in the sink, and hurried from the kitchen.
    â€œHow can you not hear the typing? I could hear it up in the attic,” Walt asked.
    Danielle went to the sink and finished rinsing Hillary’s plate before placing it in the dishwasher. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a heavy sleeper.”
    Walt watched Danielle for a moment as she wiped down the counter with a paper towel. Finally, he asked, “So there’s a killer on the loose in Frederickport?”
    â€œAfraid so.” Danielle tossed the paper towel into the trash can and turned to face Walt.
    â€œPerhaps whoever killed Jolene has already left town. No reason to stick around and risk getting arrested.”
    â€œThe chief seems to feel it wasn’t a