The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs by Cynthia DeFelice Page A

plan.”
    â€œThat’s what I was trying to do,” said Dub angrily. “But what do you need a wimp like me for? You’ve got your precious ghost, which is the only thing you seem to care about.”
    Allie listened with disbelief to the click of the phone as Dub hung up. Tears sprang to her eyes. It was so unfair! She’d always counted on Dub to understand, but he was just as bad as everyone else. No, worse. Because she’d thought she could count on him, no matter what.
    â€œI’m sorry, Allie. It’s awful when people you care about turn their backs on you, isn’t it? I know how you feel.”
    He
was there. His beautiful, sorrowful face appeared before her, his dark eyes looking into hers, his lips curved in a sympathetic smile. He knew how she felt. He was the only one who did.
    â€œHe’s jealous, of course. But maybe he’s right. Maybe you’d better stop. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
    â€œWait!” Allie cried. “Please don’t disappear again. I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how to go on. My dad says I have to stay away from Mrs. Hobbs.”
    â€œHe’s right.”
    â€œAnd let her get away with what she did to you? It isn’t fair!”
    â€œLife isn’t fair,”
he said sadly.
“And neither is death. But I shouldn’t have asked you to take this on, Allie. The price is too high.”
    Allie was desperate to get some answers before John Walker disappeared again. “She killed you, didn’t she?”
    Walker’s expression clouded.
“Yes.”
    Allie gasped, although she had known the answer.
    â€œYou’re amazing, Allie, to figure that out on your own. But you must stop now, to protect your sweet self from harm.”
    He reached out, and this time Allie was certain she could feel the caress of his hand on her cheek.
    Then he was gone.
    Allie put her hand to her face, trying to hold on to the feeling of John Walker’s touch. How could she let him down, when she was all he had?

Fifteen
    Fired up with renewed determination, Allie dialed the phone number for the library, thinking that perhaps she could return and pick up her research where she’d left off. She got a recording saying that the library was closed for the rest of the day, Saturday, but would reopen on Sunday at noon. She sighed, frustrated by the delay.
    The phone rang then, interrupting her fretting. She grabbed it quickly, allowing herself the small hope that it was Dub calling to make everything between them right again. “Hello?” she said eagerly.
    â€œAllie?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThis is Chief Rasmussen.”
    â€œOh,” she said, surprised. “Hi. Do you want to talk to my dad?”
    â€œYes, I understand he called. But as long as I’ve gotyou, let me tell you something. I got to thinking about the Hobbs fire, and I came back here to the station and looked up the old records. I thought you might be interested in what I found, if you’re going to be interviewing Evelyn Hobbs.”
    Might be interested? She was dying to hear anything about Mrs. Hobbs and the fire that had killed John Walker! Trying to sound casual, she asked, “What did you find?”
    â€œYou’d have read about most of it in the newspaper, if the microfilm machine hadn’t broken. But some of the details of the investigation didn’t get into the papers. We had our suspicions, but we couldn’t prove anything.”
    â€œSuspicions about what?”
    â€œWell, we knew the fire was set deliberately.”
    â€œI read that you suspected it was,” Allie answered eagerly. “Who did you think did it?”
    At that moment a siren began to sound. Allie heard it over the phone line, incredibly shrill and loud, and in her other ear, more faintly, as it carried across town from the fire station.
    Chief Rasmussen shouted over the sound, which must have been very loud to