Dream Of The Past

Hi, recently I had a very strange but vivid dream. I don't know where to begin exactly but I will begin where I first remember. The setting of the dream seemed to be in the late 1920s to 1930s. I can't really tell. It was in side of a house. The house was older looking and that was one of the ways I could tell what time period it could have been in. The house was wooden from the inside. It resembled the house of Jefferson Davis from the inside. That is the best way I can describe it to you. There was I think, at least four people. The main, (who I think was myself in the past) wore a dust coat and fedora hat. He was at least 5'9. Looked similar to myself. Young, and slim. He looked similar, but not exactly like me. He looked somewhat like a detective or an officer might look like at the time. There was a woman standing next to him. She had light brown hair and was shorter than the man. They were standing side by side. Very close and I think they were engaged. There was an old man. He was average looking. White hair. He was about average size. He was kind looking and seemed to be a loving grandfather. He had a wife, old as he and I can't describe her well. I am going to refer to the first person as myself. There was also a fifth person. Well not a person, more like a spirit. She was a young female child. She was pale. She seemed to float and she was shorter than me so she would float I guess to my level and a head above. The spirit was grey, but not scary. Normal looking girl. Just pale and without much expression. She would always be about a head length above me and she needed my help. The point of me being there was to investigate a missing person case. The old man was a prime suspect. At least I believe. I would sit in a chair right beside his bedroom door at midnight. Just to make sure he didn't go anywhere. The ghost girl would give me hints and clues to the mystery to help prove that the old man was the murderer. There are other parts of the dream that go on, but the longer the story goes, the harder it is to remember. The old man was evil. He knew what he had done, and he knew I knew. One day, I walked by the bathroom door and seen him in the tub. Lying relaxed, and with his head turned. Looking at me. Smiling and giggling to himself. As if he knew there was no way I could find him guilty. I am sorry if I can't put more detail into the story. My spelling is off and the story seems a bit disorganized. I apologies. The story didn't come to an end. I can't remember the rest. I think that young man was me in the past. I know it sounds crazy, but this is what I believe.