The Ghost Upstairs (A Ghost Story)

Chapter 10

I'm sorry for updating the story so sparesly.  I'm currently without my own computer, and I can't get on my mother's computer very often.  Thanks for being patient...ish.

(P.S; In case you're wondering-of which I doubt-Frank Keaton is one of my all time favorite actors.  He's from the silent film era, but I brought him back because I thought it'd be fun to toy with his character a little.  You might know him better as Buster Keaton though. ^_^)

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*Leanne's POV*

"So who are we looking for?" Ashleigh asked excitedly after I sat up.

"Frank Keaton," I said matter-of-factly, "he said he was glad I had finally found him."

"So what's our next step?" Noah asked, walking in from the kitchen.

"Well, I suppose we go back to the library and look him up.  You know, find if he had any enemies, or if he was famous, locally or nationally." I said, standing up. 

There was a round of agreements, and I grabbed my keys, and we drove off after loading everyone into my car.

*Noah's POV*

Leanne was directing everyone to a computer and what to search.  She sat me down at the computer against the corner.

"I want you to look up his home life.  Whether he had enemies, was a loner, married, etcetera." She said plainly before talking to Ashleigh and Elijah.

I rubbed my eyes and clicked on the Internet browser.   In the search engine I typed in Frank Keaton.  Many results came up before I found the one with the newspaper article.

I breifly skimmed it and the rest of the page before finding a link to a biography. 

"Well, someone was popular." I muttered to myself as I clicked on it.

I picked up my note pad and pen and wrote down interesting points.  It turns out he was a stage actor, and was very famous throughout his county.  He had recieved hate mail although, sadly, it didn't show any examples or what the hate mail said.  The biography was short and sweet and to the point.  However, I had found something that might lead us to the goal.  Frank Keaton had been very prominent in resistences against the government and their decisions.

"Leanne," I called.  She glanced up quickly from the laptop she was on, and came over.

"What'd you find?" she whispered.

"Frank, as it turned out, resisted against the government.  I also noticed with other suicides and murders, they had quite a larger portion of the paper to mourn them." Noah took a breath,  "Frank's, however, only had a few simple words.  I believe someone close to the government or the newspaper wanted to keep this quiet."

Leanne nodded, her forehead creased in concentration, "Yeah, Ashleigh and Eli noticed that too." She glanced at her watch, she looked up, "Let's go.  I think we're ready to tackle this."

*Two Hours Later*

*Leanne's POV*

Once again dressed in my hoopskirts, I slipped the notepad and pen into the waistline of my skirt.  "There.  I'm ready to go."

Ashleigh and Elijah had decided to stay downstairs, as it was Noah's turn tonight.  We walked up the stairs, and looked around for anyone watching.  We slipped into the room, and almost immediatly blackness swallowed me. 

I woke up on the cobblestone street.  When the peddlar came to me I just ignored him and practically sprinted down to Madame Jean's. 

"Madame Jean!" I shouted as I ran into the door.

"Ah, Leanne.  You're finally back!  What do you have for me today?" She asked, motioning to the chair in front of her.

I quickly took a seat, and pulled the notepad out.  I explained about the rebellions and why I thought the government had something to do with his so-called 'suicide'.   She sat there, throwing an 'interesting' in once in a while. 

When I was finished, she sat there and thought.  "So how are we going to find his murderer?"

"Can we do that seance thing?  I want to ask him exactly when and where he was murdered." I said.

"Sure, that sounds like a bright idea.  Here, take my hands." She said, holding out her hands.

I took her hands in mine and thought about Frank Keaton.  I focused on his build and suddenly her hands ripped away from mine.

"Mr. Keaton?" I asked in a small voice.

"What do you want, child?" Madame Jean, or should I say Frank, boomed.

"When were you murdered? The rough time and date?" I asked, poising my pen on the paper.

Madame Jean just stood for a while, and I wondered if it was whiplash or something from the way her head sometimes jerked around.

"August of 1825.  I would guess the 5th or so." He said.

"Thank you so much.  This has made this investigation so much easier," I said as I scribbled down the dates on my paper.

"What about your killer?  What did he look like, or what was he wearing?" I asked.

"Black suit, with a red tie.  He was tall, kind of lanky.  His hair was so blonde, and it was done in the most peculiar way.  Kind of...side swept." He said.  Madame Jean sunk to the floor.

I wrote down the information, and rushed over to Madame Jean.  "Are you alright?" I asked, shaking her shoulder.

Her voice was weak and frail.  "I'm fine, go on your way.  You'll have to come back another time.  Today is November 27th.  You can't wait around here forever."

I nodded, and just barely had time to grab my notepad before being swept back into modern-day time.

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Hope you liked it.  I'm sorry if it's kind of short, I tried to extend it.  I highly dislike how Wattpad displays your story.  7 pages on another document is only 2 or 3 on here. D=