"Twins... both dead," Joe said.
"Boy and girl," Silas added, "born too early. I heard there was nothing the doctors could do. His wife died several months later."
"Suicide," Joe said.
Silas frowned. "Ruled accidental. She was found at the bottom of the stairs, with a broken neck. He found her when he came home from a business meeting.”
"I'm guessing Nora probably outlived him, and inherited a sizeable sum," Harry said.
Joe laughed. "Got everything... then sold it..."
"She sold the place a couple years after he died and split the proceeds with Clive - right down the middle," Silas said, "Then she left town, bought a little cottage somewhere and never came back here again. Clive got the rest when she died a few years ago."
"So, Clive got half his father's estate, a share of his uncle's, and then his mother's," Harry said. "He must have a tidy sum."
"Jimmy had no children of his own," Silas said. "His money was split between Clive and six or seven nieces and nephews on his wife's side."
"Do either of you know if he's married?" Silas and Joe shook their heads. "Do you know what he works at?"
Joe shrugged. "Doesn't have to..."
"Would you work if you had the money he has?" Silas asked.
"Yes I would," Harry said. "I'd have to keep myself occupied somehow. Wouldn't you?" He looked at both of them. "I didn't retire just to sit around doing nothing but fishing now and then."
"Not the same thing," Silas said. "You worked all your life. Clive never had to work and I don't know if he ever did."
"Busy counting his money..." Joe said, with a chuckle.
Harry nodded. "Have you heard that Morton's ghost is frequently seen walking in the woods out there?"
They both nodded.
"Strange people...," Joe said.
"Eccentric," Silas said. "Jimmy was obsessed with those trees. Always afraid someone would try to cut them down."
"Which of his parents do you think Baxter is most like?"
Joe shook his head.
"I think he looks more like his father," Silas said, "but he's got his uncle's build, more on the short and stout side. Jimmy's father was like that too."
"A family trait," Harry said thoughtfully. "But which one of them is the ghost?"
********************
The following morning, Harry called Baxter, and set up a meeting. The man must be doing something to occupy his time. Bertie was at loose ends and said she’d go with him.
It couldn’t hurt to talk to the man, see if he was aware of the ghost stories, to make sure everything was okay, that nothing unlawful was going on among those old trees. It wouldn’t be the first time someone used a ghost story as cover for something quite different.
He parked the truck at the end of a long driveway, and they walked up two steps to a large, well-furnished deck, that was shaded by large willow trees. Baxter was sitting at the far end.
“Good morning. Come on over and join me,” he said.
Harry made the introductions and they sat down. “You have a great place here.”
“I like it,” Baxter replied. “Help yourself to lemonade.”
Bertie poured two glasses, handing one to Harry. “It’s a beautiful spot,” she said.
“Thank you. Small, but it suits me. Now, how can I help you? I’m aware of what you do, Mr. Hogan, and I doubt you came just to say hello.”
