A friend of mine told my husband and I this story and I thought it was just amazing and had to share. Keep in mind, this guy is extremely well educated, well traveled, has a professional career and is a community leader.
My friend was living in a small, late Victorian cottage in a rural community outside of town with his wife, stepson and newborn son. Late one night, he was sound asleep when he was awakened by a loud noise at the back door. Startled, he laid there just a second, when he heard a woman's voice saying "shhhhh, he's at the back door!"
Looking at the foot of his bed, he saw a beautiful red-haired woman standing there. Thinking it was his wife, another pretty redhead, he lept out of bed, ready to grab something and confront what he thought was a prowler. However, he turned to discover his wife next to him in the bed, sound asleep. He investigated at the back door and found nothing.
Troubled by the encounter, he did some research on the house, talking to people in the community. Back in the 1950's, a murder/suicide had taken place there. An attractive redhaired woman was shot by her husband, who then turned the gun on himself.
My friend has another theory: The pretty lady was caught in a tryst with a lover. The husband came home unexpectedly, shot her, and in turn was shot by the other man who covered the shooting to make it look like a suicide. Hence, the "he's at the backdoor" comment was a replay of what she might have said just before her death. My friend has not looked it up yet, but he suspicions that night may have been the anniversary of the deaths.
To add another little twist, a mutual friend of ours was there when the body was found. Her mother and the pretty redhead had been friends and they had driven to the home for a visit. The murder had taken place the night before.
Last summer, I had gone over to the house while they were on vacation to check on it and paint on an armoire that the couple had wanted me to do. My husband was off for the day, so I brought him along. When I got there, I was glad I did. I had been in the house several times before, but only when there were a lot of people around. This time, with only myself, and my husband the atmosphere of the place was very different. Although it was 100 degrees outside, the house was exceptionally cool -- I even checked the thermostat thinking something was wrong. Nothing eventful happened during the time I was there painting, but there was a definite, heavy feeling of sadness in the home. The area around the bedroom was the worst! I even commented to my husband that I bet our friends had a resident ghost or two. It would not be a place I'd like to be in late at night or by myself!