Poor Stanley. Whatever people are saying to him is turning him into a nervous wreck. You should lay off him for a while.

Today was the day I set the trap, but first I decided to have a chat with two of the Wylie house spooks. My informants gave me a couple good leads about what was really going on with Mr. Emerson and Duchess Lahmina. Time to see if their info was ducky or not.

I decided to get the worst out of the way, and so I knocked on Mr. Emerson's door. That spook does such a good gargoyle impression he'd make good money standing on a church. 

"Hello, Mr. Emerson. Nice day outside."

He gave me a look that could kill and bury me in an unmarked grave. I'd be careful of him, if spooks could do anything more forceful than carry a plate around. "What do you want?"

"Well, Troy, I thought I'd ask you a few questions."

That made him laugh. It sounded like a cold wind coming out of a stormy sea. He cast doubt on my detective skills. In his opinion I never would have found him out if it wasn't for my helpers. He told me that they are a smart bunch. I had to agree, they are. He told me that he would tell his story, but for their sake, not mine.

It started when Emerson was just a little tyke. He'd say that they were dirt poor, but that would imply that they owned something as valuable as dirt. It wasn't the Depression but it was the next best thing, and none of them could ever catch a break, not until Troy realized that he was good at stealing and even better at planning. He started his own little crime empire in his back yard, and was good enough at it to keep his family going.

That went on for a few years, until daddy Emerson started to develop a conscience. He didn't want his life bought and paid for by his criminal son, so he pulled himself up and got a real job. This caused a rift between father and son, because Troy was too deep in the game to back out. They fought, they argued, and in the end Troy just walked away. Troy has been bitter toward his father ever since that moment, because if Roger had made something of himself earlier, none of that would have happened.

Troy made a face at that point and stared out a window for a long time. "I never could forgive that dumb palooka. He should have been thankful to me, but instead he spit on me for saving him!"

Well both father and son went up in the world. Daddy died without reconciliation, and then the market came crashing down like a lead balloon. Troy lost everything. He had no money, no family, nada, zilch, zero. The dogs were hunting him down and were starting to nip at his heels, even though he had nothing to show for himself any more.  He returned to Bay Horse and decided to end everything on his terms.

He decided to help Z because he hadn't done any really honest work in his life. It was time to give that a try. He thinks that maybe some honest work would let him leave, maybe find his daddy out there in the beyond some day. But he's never suffered any fools in his life, and the house is full of them. That's why he dislikes the other spooks, and accused them. He'd rather be alone and in pain than in the company of fools.

Next on my list was the Duchess. It turns out that she was less than a difficult nut to crack. In fact, she'd already been cracked! I found her in the bathroom, staring at her veiled face in the mirror. I decided to lead with a straight jab. That approach had worked for me so far.

"Cathy Miller?" Boy oh boy, that turned on the water works. She didn't even look at me, just bent over and put her face in her hands. She told me to go away, but I wasn't about to be deterred by some tears. I had to get to the bottom of things.

I said, come on, doll face. You need to come clean with me now.

Well that turns her tears of sorrow into tears of anger. 

"Come clean? Come clean!" she yelled and yanked off her veil. I was not prepared for the sight before me then. The Duchess Lahmina was not young and beautiful; she was as old and wrinkled as a prune. She pierced me with those ice blue eyes. "I admit it, I lied, I lied about almost everything. My star didn't fall when I was killed, my star fell when I came in third in the Miss Missouri pageant! My family was disgraced, my mother was distraught... no Miller has ever come in THIRD!"

She told me the rest through angry sobs as she covered her face once more. Her mother expected her to be a star of stage and screen, a real beauty queen, or a famous singer. Maybe all three. But third place was as far as she ever got. She moved on with her life, got married, had kids, but always wished to be in the spotlight. I guess a star role in a community theatre play just doesn't cut it anymore. When she died and woke up again in the afterlife, she decided that she could make a fresh start. The website would provide an audience, and she could help them. She was adamant that she really did want to help people... she just wanted someone to look up to her too.

Well, that means she wouldn't want Z to die at all. I guess she wasn't helping anyone either. I left her to her sorrow. I'm glad that I haven't died yet. It seems to mess a fellah up.

And then it was time to set my plan in motion. One of my helpers supplied me with a fake spook connection. Perfect! And I also had a perfect way to trick them all into thinking it was real. After a quick stop at Sarah's place, I had a little chat with Stanley and got him to agree to help. I told everyone in the house, spook and human both, to join me at noon. I had something to tell them.

The gang all arrived on time. Z looked curious and excited. She wants this over with. Nickolas looked distracted, and Jasmine only had eyes for him - but her eyes were practically turning red. Emerson had a cocky smirk on his face, like he knew I couldn't come up with anything interesting. Samuel looked at me suspiciously. I don't think he likes this situation at all: he keeps telling me to hit the road. Lahmina was there, and I couldn't see her face behind the veil. Emma was there too, all fussy and uncomfortable to be around all the spooks. Jack came in last, and looked preoccupied.

"I've been talking to all the spooks, getting their stories." The spooks all gave me the evil eye for that. "And I discovered something very interesting. Come on out here, Stanley!"

Stanley came out to the kitchen, sheet intact. Z exclaimed that she hadn't seen him in so long, and was happy to see him. Several of the spooks laughed at her behind her back for that. I ignored them.

"I think Stanley here has an interesting story to tell. To begin with, he's not the spook you thought he was." Z blinked at me. This was news to her!

"This ghost is none other than ES Wylie!"

Everyone in the room gasped in shock as I pulled the sheet off of Stanley to reveal an older, rich-looking spook complete with a monocle and a nice looking suit of the old style. It's amazing what a little flour can do to make a boy look ghosty and old. He squinted at them all, and lifted his hands. Poor Emma fainted.

"Yes, it is I!" He announced, "ES Wylie! I was hiding among you to see if the new owner of my house would treat my legacy with respect. I see that she is being attacked for no good reason and so I have decided to reveal myself. My will does contain the secret to my treasure, but it was altered so that no one may find it! However, it saddens me to see that people are still fighting over my treasure, so I have decided to reveal the true hiding place, so that Madame Z may live in peace. Connect to me once more, and you will know the real hiding place."

I figured that was a convincing story. I do know that the will was altered, but I don't know why... or if the alteration has anything to do with the map. None of the house mates know that either. 

"And now, adieu!" Stanley called, after pulling the sheet down and wandering out of the room once more, leaving behind the fake clue that Nicko created.  Everyone looked shocked, but no one more so than Samuel, who looked like a bomb had just been dropped on him. Madame Z saw to Emma, and said that perhaps we could connect to Stanley once more.  Jack scurried out of the room quick as you could blink. I wonder where he went. The ghosts, some awestruck by ES Wylie, some disbelieving, all of them quiet, floated up to their rooms.

Now I just need to stake out a grave site and wait.