The Ghost of Christmas Secrets

by Anna J. McIntyre

  Simon slumped back in the chair and shook his head.

  “I need to ask you a few questions. First, when was the last time you saw your nephew?” Brian asked.

  “At breakfast this morning,” Loyd said. “The Bartleys from across the street and Walt Marlow were also there.”

  “And Danielle? When was the last time you saw her?” Brian asked.

  “The same time,” Simon told him.

  “What did you do after breakfast?” Brian asked.

  “We stayed at the house for a while, went out later, took a drive, did a little Christmas shopping, but we didn’t buy anything,” Simon said. “We’ve been trying to find the perfect gift for our nephew, but he is—was—difficult to shop for.” Simon looked down at the table for a moment and closed his eyes while using his fingertips to wipe away invisible tears.

  “You showed up at the foundation offices this afternoon while they were loading up the bodies. How did you happen to come then?”

  Simon looked back up at Brian. “We had been at Marlow House, watching a Christmas movie with Walt, when he got a call that something was wrong at Chris’s office. So we went right over.”

  “You mentioned Heather Donovan. You obviously think she is responsible for this. Can you tell me why?”

  “Like I told you when I met you in the diner, there is something not right with that woman. And we could see how she took advantage of our nephew—took advantage of his generous nature. She had no business in that job, but he felt sorry for her,” Loyd told him.

  “But it wasn’t just that,” Simon explained. “Yesterday we heard them fighting. She was angry. And this morning at breakfast, Chris mentioned how strangely she has been acting lately—like she had some sort of grudge against him. You can ask Lily and Ian Bartley—or Walt Marlow, they were all there when Chris told us. In fact, that’s why Danielle agreed to go down to the office, so Heather could leave earlier since it was Christmas Eve.”

  “Do you know why they were arguing?” Brian asked.

  Loyd started to say something but closed his mouth when Simon nudged his foot again.

  “I’m pretty sure it was about us,” Simon said wearily.

  “You? How so?” Brian asked.

  “We walked in on the argument. They were in the kitchen and didn’t see us come in. Heather was yelling at Chris, saying he was a fool to ever trust us, that she had been there for him, and that if he needed a backup, it should be her and not us. The moment they saw us, Heather stopped talking and stormed out of the room. We didn’t know what they were talking about, not until this morning after breakfast.”

  “What were they talking about?” Brian asked.

  “Chris decided to add a codicil to his will, naming my brother and me to replace Danielle should she not—well, if something happened to her.” Simon rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and shook his head. “It was only a gesture on Chris’s part, his way of showing us he had forgiven us for what we had done. We never expected to outlive Danielle; we are old men. We were just touched he wanted to do it.”

  “He may not have even gotten around to doing it,” Loyd added. “He just told us his intentions this morning.”

  “Actually…” Brian opened the manila folder and pulled out a document, sliding it across the table to the brothers. “This is a copy of what we found in Chris’s file drawer. Naturally we wanted to know who inherited. Apparently he had both Danielle and Heather sign it yesterday. Heather swears she never saw the document before.”

  Loyd picked it up and stared at it a moment. “He really did it…”

  Simon reached over and patted his brother’s arm. He then looked at Brian and asked, “What now?”

  “We got a search warrant for Heather Donovan’s house. They found an empty glass vial in her bathroom cabinet that has traces of the same poison found in the wine. Of course, she insists she didn’t do it.”

  Loyd slammed his fist on the table. “I knew it! I told Chris he shouldn’t trust that woman!”

  Brian’s cellphone buzzed. He paused a moment and looked at it. He glanced up to the uncles and said, “They’re bringing in Heather for more questioning, and they need to use this room. Would you like to wait in the adjoining office with me and hear what she has to say?”

  Loyd perked up. “We can do that?”

  Brian shrugged. “It’s a little unorthodox, but considering the circumstances, I don’t see a problem. If it was my nephew who had been so brutally murdered, I would want to listen.”

  “Yes, yes, I would like to do that,” Loyd said as he pushed the document back across the table to Brian.

  Brian returned the document to the file and started to stand up and then paused a moment. He sat back down and said, “I have a quick question for you. Do either of you know a woman by the name of Zara Leighton?”

  Loyd stared blankly at Brian, as did his brother.

  Simon blinked several times and then stammered, “I don’t think so, why?”

  “They found her body in a storage unit the other day in Southern California and just recently made a positive identification.”

  “What does this have to do with our nephew?” Loyd asked.

  Brian closed the folder and looked up into Loyd’s face. “One of the other guests at Marlow House, a Noah Church, although I believe he was using the name Noah Bishop for some reason, was a friend of the dead woman.”

  “You said her name was Zara?” Loyd frowned. “That’s the name of his wife.”

  Brian smiled and shook his head. “No, he isn’t married.”

  “Then who was the woman with him?” Loyd asked.

  Brian shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean. According to Walt Marlow, Noah Church didn’t have anyone with him.”

  “No, he had a wife with him,” Loyd insisted.

  Brian frowned. “Did you see her?”

  “No, but…” Loyd mumbled.

  “Excuse me, but what does any of that have to do with our nephew?” Simon demanded.

  “The man who rented the storage unit where they found her body was your gardener. Also, according to Noah Church, he’s your nephew’s biological brother. In fact, they’re running DNA tests now.”

  Thirty-Five

  As the two elderly men followed Brian out of the interrogation room, they passed Heather Donovan and the police chief. Heather, who had dressed for Christmas—with candy-cane-patterned leggings, a red striped oversized sweater, and green ribbons woven through her braids—looked like an angry elf when she passed them, sending both men a drop-dead glare.

  Brian took Simon and Loyd to the adjoining office and said, “If you’ll wait in here, I’ll be right back.”

  The two men entered the small room and immediately walked to the large picture window on the far wall. Looking through the two-way mirror, they watched as Heather sat quietly at the table while the chief sat across from her, shuffling through papers in the folder before him. Even if Heather and the chief had been talking—which they weren’t yet—the Glandon brothers would not have been able to hear what was being said, as Brian had not yet turned on the speakers.

  “They found her body,” Loyd whispered to his brother.

  “Be careful what you say in here,” Simon warned.

  “Good luck with the DNA results, not going to do much good for him now.”

  “I said be quiet,” Simon hissed.

  The office door opened and Brian re-entered, this time with Joe Morelli by his side. After a brief introduction, the four men moved to the window, and Brian turned on the speakers just as the chief handed Heather a piece of paper.

  “Do you recognize this?” the chief asked.

  Heather looked at the document and shook her head. “I told that other officer. I’ve never seen it before.”

  The chief pointed to a section on the document. “Isn’t that your signature?”

  Heather shrugged. “It looks like mine, but I’ve never seen that before.”

  “Are you saying that’s not y
our signature?”

  “I said it looks like mine. But I didn’t sign it.”

  The chief returned the document to the envelope. “We found this in Chris’s file drawer with copies of his will.”

  Heather shrugged again. “I don’t know. I didn’t put it there. Like I said, I’ve never seen that before.”

  “According to the date, you signed this yesterday.”

  Heather shook her head. “I didn’t. Someone obviously forged my signature.”

  “She’s lying,” Loyd grumbled.

  “Can you tell me what you and Chris argued about yesterday?”

  Heather shrugged. “We didn’t argue. No more than normal. I was a little annoyed he wanted me to stuff envelopes on Christmas Eve. But he got Danielle to help him do that, so I was okay.”

  “She doesn’t seem to be broken up about Chris’s and Danielle’s deaths,” Loyd snorted.

  “How did you get along with Chris’s uncles?” the chief asked.

  “Okay, I guess. At first I didn’t think they liked me, but then they told me Chris had a thing for me and encouraged me to pursue him.”

  “She’s lying!” Loyd snapped.

  Simon let out a deep breath and glanced briefly at his brother from the corner of his eye.

  “Did you want to pursue Chris romantically?” the chief asked.

  “Oh gawd no!” Heather laughed. “Chris? Not really my type.”

  “Not even for all his money?” MacDonald asked.

  “Money isn’t everything, Chief.”

  Simon frowned and glanced at his brother again. She really doesn’t seem very upset, he thought. Not about the deaths or about being questioned as a suspect.

  The chief removed a photograph from his folder and slid it across the table to Heather. “This is a picture of a small glass container they found under your bathroom sink. It has traces of the same poison found in the wine that killed Danielle and Chris.”

  Heather shrugged, but she didn’t seem overly concerned. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Do you know how it ended up in your house?”

  “My guess, the real killer broke into my house and planted it there.”

  A knock came at the door, and the chief paused a moment, looking from the door back to Heather. He stood up. “That’s about all for now, Heather. You can go.”

  “What do you mean they’re letting her go?” Simon blurted.

  “That woman killed our nephew!” Loyd protested.

  Neither Joe nor Brian responded; instead they kept watching what was going on in the interrogation room.

  With a grumble, Loyd turned his attention back to the window and watched as an attractive woman entered and Heather exited. The chief shook the woman’s hand and asked her to sit down. Simon was about to ask who she was when he was given the answer.

  “Thank you for coming down here, Ms. Carmichael. I understand you were Chris’s attorney?”

  “I was one of them,” Melony said as she sat primly at the table, her hands folded on the desktop.

  “Can you look at this document, please, and let me know if you’ve seen it before.” The chief removed the document he had shown Heather minutes earlier and slid it to Melony.

  She picked it up and shook her head. “This isn’t one of mine. I didn’t prepare it.” She set it down on the table and smiled. “Of course, that doesn’t mean anything regarding its legitimacy. Chris was capable of preparing something like this without my help, and he had other attorneys.”

  “So you’re saying this is a valid, fully executable legal document?” the chief asked.

  “Yes—”

  Loyd couldn’t help it, he smiled.

  “—it would have been, had Chris not come in this morning and had me prepare another one for him.”

  “What other one?” Loyd blurted.

  “You saw Chris this morning?”

  Melony nodded. “Yes. Last night he found out one of the guests staying at Marlow House was actually his older biological brother. The brother has spent years looking for Chris.”

  Silently Loyd and Simon hung on every word, each man holding his breath.

  “This morning I prepared a new codicil, that would supersede the one you just showed me—assuming the one you showed me is even valid. Chris left his entire estate—not just executor privileges and management of his estate—to his only brother. Billions.”

  “And that newest codicil is valid?”

  “Yes. I didn’t just have it properly signed, I had it notarized, which isn’t required in Oregon, but it does speed up the probate process. Plus, it’s been filed with the court.”

  “No!” Loyd shouted before he started pounding on the window.

  In the next room, both the chief and Melony stopped talking and looked toward the two-way mirror.

  Simon grabbed hold of Loyd’s wrist, twisting it. “Pull it together,” he hissed. He looked over to the two officers, who were now staring at them.

  “You have to understand, my brother and I are upset that Heather Donovan isn’t being held for the murder of our nephew. I’m afraid it’s just been too much for my brother.”

  Brian smiled at Simon and nodded. “Yes, I understand this is a stressful time for you both.”

  “Unfortunately,” Joe added, “we don’t have sufficient evidence to hold Heather for their murder.”

  Simon glanced back to the window and noticed the interrogation room was now empty. Both the chief and the attorney had left.

  Simon patted his brother’s right shoulder and said, “I think we should go now.”

  “Before you leave, I believe the chief wants to see you both one more time in the interrogation room,” Joe said.

  “Is that really necessary?” Loyd asked. “I don’t feel very well; I just want to go home.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Brian said, opening the door and motioning in the direction of the interrogation room.

  After the Glandon brothers were led back to the room, Brian told them the chief would be in shortly. The two men took a seat at the table and waited.

  Loyd glanced up to the two-way mirror and leaned close to his brother and whispered, “We’re going to get that codicil overturned in favor of ours.”

  “Shut up,” Simon hissed. “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “I didn’t come all this way to give up now,” Loyd grumbled under his breath.

  “I said shut up,” Simon snapped, his eyes darting nervously to the two-way mirror.

  The next moment the chief walked into the interrogation room. He carried what looked to be a computer tablet. “Thank you for staying, gentlemen.”

  “Why haven’t you arrested Heather Donovan for our nephew’s murder?” Simon demanded.

  The chief shrugged and took a seat at the table. “I don’t think Heather killed anyone. Anyway, I consider her a friend.”

  “A friend?” Loyd snapped. “Is that what happens around here, friends of the police chief get away with murder?”

  “Like I said, I don’t believe she killed anyone.”

  “I don’t know what more proof you need. I heard you say they found some of the poison used to kill our nephew in her house!” Loyd shouted.

  The chief shrugged again. “As Heather pointed out, the real killer could have broken into her house and planted the evidence.”

  “She lied about signing that document!” Loyd argued.

  “Maybe she didn’t sign it,” the chief suggested. “Just like Chris didn’t have a new codicil that supposedly was drawn up today.”

  Simon frowned. “What are you saying?”

  The chief rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Melony Carmichael, you saw me talking to her in this room a few minutes earlier. She is an attorney, by the way. But she didn’t see Chris this morning at her office. She made it all up.”

  “Are you saying Chris didn’t leave everything to his brother?” Loyd asked, a smile forming on his lips.

  MacDonald shook his head. “Not a penn
y

  “Why would she lie about that?” Simon asked. Unlike his brother, he was not smiling.

  “It was a favor for a mutual friend,” MacDonald explained. “Not particularly professional, but I figured in this instance I would make an exception.”

  “A favor for whom? Why?” Simon demanded.

  “I suppose you can see for yourself,” the chief said as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and sent a text message. Several moments later the door opened and in walked a very alive Chris Glandon and Danielle Boatman, followed by an angry Walt Marlow.

  Audible gasps emanated from the uncles, with Loyd lurching back in his chair and grabbing his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack.

  “Oh my god, you are alive!” Simon cried out. “I’m so relieved!”

  “You’re really alive,” Loyd sputtered, barely choking out, “Yes, we’re so relieved.”

  Danielle stood near the doorway next to Walt, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, but Chris angrily approached the table, towering over his uncles. He leaned down, resting his hands along the table’s edge as he looked Loyd in the eyes.

  “Uh…umm…thank God you’re alive,” Loyd stammered.

  “‘It won’t be long now, boy. It paralyzes you first. Even if the paramedics showed up now, there’s nothing they can do for you,’” Chris hissed, recounting the chilling words Loyd had said when he believed Chris had been dying.

  Walt heard the words Chris whispered to his uncle, and while he had told himself a man his age had no business inflicting physical violence against an older man, he was unable to restrain himself. The next moment both Loyd and Simon toppled backwards in their chairs, as if someone had sucker punched their jaws. No real damage was done, yet Walt felt slightly better for the effort.

  In the adjacent room Joe and Brian watched through the two-way mirror.

  “What in the world just happened?” Joe asked. “Their chairs just flew backwards.”

  A slow smile crept over Brian’s face as he silently watched the chief help both men to their feet while officially putting them under arrest.

  “To be honest, I sort of wondered if something like this would happen,” Brian muttered, his gaze now shifting to Walt Marlow, who hovered protectively by Danielle’s side.