by Bobbi Holmes
Twenty-Two
The previous day Police Chief MacDonald had allowed the Kings to leave Marlow House without questioning them. According to Max, none of their voices matched the people who had broken into Marlow House. For a cat, Max was emphatic they were not the burglars. While Danielle wanted to believe him, she kept thinking about Hunny and how she had recently gone to the dark side by befriending Pearl. Was it possible an artful scratch behind the ear or crab appetizer from Pearl Cove had swayed Max? There had been crab appetizer on that woman’s plate. Raven, Danielle reminded herself. The woman’s name was Raven.
While they let the Kings leave without the police confronting them, it didn’t mean they would let it slide. Walt and Danielle decided they would visit the Kings today and question them. But first, Chris searched through the previous day’s surveillance footage to prepare a video for the Kings. The chief reluctantly agreed to the plan after Danielle reminded him Walt could easily protect them both.
It was almost ten a.m. on Thursday morning when Chris showed up at Marlow House. He found Walt and Danielle sitting at the kitchen table, talking. When he walked in the back door, Danielle asked, “Is it done?”
“Yes. No way can they deny they practically ransacked your house. The camera even got them looking behind the painting at the safe. They weren’t the only ones,” Chris said as he helped himself to a cup of coffee and joined Walt and Danielle at the table.
“What do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“One thing I learned from watching those videos, people are damn nosey. It was especially interesting watching it at top speed. People running around like some Laurel and Hardy movie, opening and closing drawers and closets,” he said with a laugh.
“I’m surprised people still behave like that. It seems everyone has security cameras up these days,” Danielle said.
Chris looked at Walt with a grin and said, “There was a great one of you having a conversation with Max in the parlor. Unfortunately, we didn’t record any of the sound. What were you two discussing?”
“I forgot about the camera,” Walt said.
With a shrug Danielle said, “I guess that answers my question. People forget about cameras.”
“We could ask Brian what you said,” Chris added with a snicker.
“What do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“Another thing that camera caught, Brian Henderson going behind the sofa, I assume to look at the pictures on the wall. One of them fell. He reached down to pick it up, and Walt walked into the room.”
Walt stared blankly at Chris. “Are you telling me Brian was in the parlor when I was talking to Max?”
Chris nodded with a wide grin and took a drink of coffee.
Danielle groaned.
Walt parked in front of the rental house and glanced over at Danielle, who sat in the passenger seat, talking on her cellphone.
“Yes, Chief, I promise. I’ll call you as soon as we leave.” A moment later she hung up and looked over to Walt.
“You ready?” Walt asked.
“Yeah, but I also feel awkward. I mean, if they were just being snoopy, I kinda feel embarrassed for them.”
“From what Marie overheard, sounds like they were being more than just nosy.”
“I know. And I hope Max knows what he’s talking about.” Danielle reached for the car door.
“Unless they’re working with someone, and that’s who broke in,” Walt suggested.
“I sure didn’t see them talking with anyone yesterday, aside from Adam and Mel.” Danielle let out a sigh and added, “Wish Marie was with us.” Marie had stayed back at Marlow House as a security measure, assuming someone other than the Kings was threatening Walt and Danielle.
“We don’t have to do this,” Walt reminded her.
“Yeah, we do,” Danielle said, opening the car door.
Walt and Danielle stood on the front porch of the beach rental. In Danielle’s right hand she held her cellphone, while her purse strap hung over her left shoulder. Walt rang the doorbell.
When the door opened a few minutes later, the woman Danielle remembered as Raven stood in the open doorway, looking at them. By her expression, it surprised her to find them standing on her front porch.
“Walt and Danielle Marlow? Why are you here? Did we leave something at your house?” Raven asked with a frown.
Danielle held up her cellphone and began playing the video. “We want to talk to you and your cousins about this.”
Raven stared at the video playing on the iPhone. It showed her and her cousins searching various rooms at Marlow House. Expressionless, she watched the video for a minute. She let out a sigh, threw the door open wider, and said, “This is probably for the best. Come on in. This is how I wanted to do it, anyway.”
Raven turned her back to them and headed into the house, leaving the door open. When she was about six feet inside and realized they were not following her, she glanced back and waved them in. “Come on. The others are on the back patio.”
Walt and Danielle followed Raven to the patio off the dining room. There they found Laken and Kiara sitting at a wicker and glass table, each reading a section of the morning newspaper. Raven put out her hand to Danielle, silently asking for her phone. Danielle handed it to her after opening the screen with the video.
Laken started to stand up to greet them, although he, like his sister, looked perplexed to see them. Before he got completely to his feet, Raven shoved the phone in his face and turned it on. With a frown, he took hold of the phone and absently sat back down, his eyes on the now playing video.
Curious, Kiara leaned over to her brother to see what he was watching. After a moment she looked up to Danielle and Walt and with a gasp said, “You were recording us?”
Danielle reached out and took her phone from Laken, who didn’t attempt to keep it. He stared blankly at her.
“Not exactly. We weren’t recording you per se. But we were trying to catch the people who broke into Marlow House last week.”
“We didn’t break into Marlow House!” Laken blurted.
“But you were looking for something,” Walt said. “What?”
The siblings exchanged quick glances and looked back to Walt and Danielle.
“We were looking for Walt Marlow’s diary,” Raven announced.
Walt and Danielle turned to Raven, and Walt said, “Supposedly that’s what the people who broke into Marlow House last week were looking for.”
Instead of making another denial, Laken let out a low whistle and said, “So we aren’t the only ones looking for the diary.”
“But there is no diary,” Danielle said.
“There has to be,” Kiara insisted.
“Perhaps you could explain what this is all about?” Walt asked.
It wasn’t that Danielle thought they might try to poison them and toss their bodies in the ocean. But she didn’t think it a terrific idea to accept a beverage from anyone possibly connected to the wannabe arsonist. They were alone with them on their back patio, and a drugged Walt could not use his telekinesis powers. Danielle politely declined the offer for iced tea—for both her and Walt, which earned her a frown from her thirsty husband. But he said nothing. Instead, they joined the Kings at the patio table to discuss Walt’s sought-after, imaginary diary.
“Our great-grandmother was Desiree Davis,” Raven began.
If that announcement surprised Walt or Danielle, their expressions did not show it. They both sat silently, listening.
Raven took in their nonresponse and rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, you know who she is.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Walt lied.
“I told you,” Laken snapped at his cousin. “He won’t say anything that besmirches the sacred memory of his namesake.”
“What do you think Walt did?” Danielle asked. They all turned to her. “I mean the original Walt Marlow?”
“Okay. We’ll play your game.” Laken did not mask his contempt. He looked at Walt and said, “You clearly ba
sed two of your characters in your book on our great-grandmother, Desiree Davis, and her sister, Charlene Davis.”
“Even if my cousin left a diary, which he didn’t, and I based my story on those two people, why is it so important to find the diary?” Walt asked.
“Because we want to solve a family mystery,” Raven said. “We want to find out who murdered my great-grandmother’s sister.”
“Charlene was murdered?” Walt frowned.
“You wrote about it in your book. How she had been dating a white man and his family killed her. We’d like to discover who that was,” Kiara said.
“I made that all up,” Walt insisted. “Honestly, that was pure fiction. Are you saying someone murdered your grandmother’s sister?”
“Great-grandmother,” Kiara corrected. “But we weren’t sure until we read your book.”
“I sincerely do not understand,” Walt said.
Laken started to say something, but Raven stopped him. She took a deep breath and looked at Walt. “According to the story our grandmother told us, her aunt, like the character in your book, passed for white. She was an actress, and our grandmother’s mother was a jazz singer. They were at odds, because Charlene was passing as white and Desiree did not approve, especially considering some men she was running around with. Like in your book.”
“And she was murdered?” Danielle asked.
“My grandmother’s mother didn’t think so at first,” Raven said. “She was told Charlene went off to Hollywood, to pursue her career, that she had some offer. But she never contacted Desiree again. She simply disappeared. None of her friends heard from her. And Desiree could find nothing that showed she had an offer in Hollywood, like she had been led to believe.”
“I would assume if Charlene was passing for white, considering how it was back then, she probably changed her name when she got to Hollywood,” Walt suggested.
“That’s what Desiree thought at first,” Kiara said. “But then she started hearing stories about how Charlene had never left Frederickport. That someone had lied to Desiree about Charlene getting offered a job in California. And later, Desiree heard Walt Marlow knew what happened to her. But by then, he was dead, and she couldn’t ask him.”
“Why would Walt Marlow know what happened to her?” Walt asked.
Laken looked Walt in the eyes and said, “That’s why we wanted the diary.”
“I wish there was a diary,” Walt said. “I would happily let you see it. But honestly, what I wrote, about the murder of the actress, that truly was a work of fiction.”
“You can ask the museum,” Danielle told them. “I’ve been very open with the museum in sharing anything I found at Marlow House. And if I had come across a diary, it would have been long before Walt ever came to Frederickport. Why would I hide it?”
As the Kings silently considered her suggestion, a thought popped into Danielle’s head. “Although, now that I think about it, I can explain this misunderstanding about a diary.”
Walt glanced questioningly at Danielle.
Danielle flashed him a smile and turned her attention to the Kings. “I had a friend. She died a while back. Marie Nichols.”
Walt arched a brow and silently listened.
“Marie was ninety-one when she died. Her father was a close friend of Walt Marlow—the original Walt Marlow. In fact, they lived in the house across the street when Walt was murdered.”
“What does she have to do with our family?” Raven asked.
“Marie understood I was interested in Marlow history. She often shared stories her father had told her. Marie told me how Walt Marlow dabbled in bootlegging, and a jewel heist, and how he had been in love with the silent screen star Eva Thorndike.”
Walt rolled his eyes at Danielle’s last comment, but the Kings missed it.
“And I recall a story she told me about a jazz singer Walt befriended, according to her father. And her sister, who was a black actress who passed as white. But she didn’t remember the names. Apparently, the actress was a friend of Eva Thorndike. But Marie said nothing about a murder. Just that the actress left for Hollywood, according to her father. I shared many of those stories with my husband when he was researching local history for his book, so I’m sure that’s where some uncanny similarities to real-life events originated. From stories Marie told me. Not a diary.”
Twenty-Three
Danielle called ahead to let the chief know they were stopping by his office. When they stepped in the front lobby of the Frederickport police station, they ran into Joe and Brian, who were just leaving.
“We had a good time yesterday,” Joe told Danielle as they stopped to say hi. “But you’re slacking, having Pearl Cove cater.”
“You didn’t like the food?” Danielle asked.
“No, actually it was great. Almost as good as your cooking,” Joe said with a grin.
“And no one was murdered, that has to be a first,” Brian said dryly.
“Okay, so a few of our past July Fourth parties had issues,” Danielle said.
“No kidding. I imagine that’s why the chief wanted us there, considering its history,” Brian said. “But it looks like this time, the chief’s anonymous source was off.”
Joe flashed Brian a frown. Brian returned with a shrug and said, “Obviously Danielle and Walt are aware the chief asked us to be there yesterday and why.” He turned back to the pair and asked, “Am I right?”
“Yes,” Danielle said.
“I want to apologize, Brian. It was good of you to come over yesterday and help. I know it was your day off,” Walt began. “I shouldn’t have played that joke on you. But I couldn’t resist.”
“Joke? What joke?” Joe asked. “What’s he talking about?”
“But I wondered why you were hiding behind the couch,” Walt said jokingly.
“I wasn’t hiding. I was picking up something that fell off the wall behind the couch,” Brian said without a smile, eyeing Walt suspiciously.
“So that’s why you were hiding.” Walt grinned.
“I would have stood up,” Brian said impatiently. “But when you started having a conversation with your cat, I thought I’d spare you the embarrassment and stay where I was.”
“Which I feel bad about,” Walt lied. “I was being a jerk, and you were probably thinking I was acting crazy.”
“Yeah, well, you could say that,” Brian said.
Walt held out his hand to Brian. “No hard feelings?”
Brian hesitantly shook Walt’s hand.
“Brian didn’t look like he believed your story,” Danielle said after Brian and Joe left the building.
“No, he didn’t. I think Brian has seen far too much over the last few years not to question one of my explanations,” Walt said as they walked toward the chief’s office.
“Like what?” Danielle asked.
Walt stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked at his wife. “Like the time I slugged him.”
“Yeah, but that was before you ever came to Frederickport.” Danielle made a hand gesture to Walt’s body to emphasize the word “you.”
“And there was the time I handed him a towel—my former self he could not see handed him a towel. I believe that was at Ian’s bachelor party.”
“Again, before you ever came to Frederickport.”
“What about what the chief told us? How Brian compared my handwriting—and fingerprints to—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Which probably explains why I sometimes catch him watching you in that creepy way of his.”
“I wouldn’t describe it as creepy,” Walt argued. “And I might add, it seems Joe is still a little sweet on you.”
Danielle frowned at Walt. “What are you talking about?”
“Pearl Cove’s food was almost as good as yours.”
“How does that have anything to do with him being sweet on me?”
“A man can tell, Danielle.”
“He’s living with Kelly,” Danielle said.
“So? I
don’t see a ring on her finger.”
Thirty minutes later, after recounting their morning conversation with the Kings, the chief sat behind his desk, considering what he had just been told. Finally, he said, “I really don’t see why they would be so desperate to destroy your diary they’d be willing to kill you. In fact, none of that gives them a reason to want to destroy the diary. It sounds to me like they just wanted to read it.”
“We agree with you,” Walt said. “Danielle and I discussed that on the way over here. I think Max was right. It’s not them.”
“But there is something in that diary that someone does not want to come out,” the chief said.
“There is no diary,” Walt reminded him.
“You know what I mean,” the chief said.
“Let’s say it’s the murder,” Danielle began.
“What murder?” Walt asked.
“Charlene’s murder,” Danielle explained.
“Charlene wasn’t murdered,” Walt argued.
“Maybe she was. Think about what they told you. After you died, Desiree came to believe someone killed her sister. And she wondered if you knew something about it. Why? What happened back then to raise those questions?” Danielle asked.
“Are you suggesting I made up a murder that actually happened?” Walt asked.
“Stranger things have happened,” Danielle said.
“Even if that is true, why would anyone be willing to kill to keep it quiet?” the chief asked. “That happened almost a hundred years ago. And while there are no statutes of limitations on murder, whoever killed Charlene—if anyone did—has been dead for years.”
“Are they trying to protect their family’s honor?” Danielle suggested. “Like the board members from the historical society didn’t want everyone learning they had parents who liked running around in white sheets and burning crosses on people’s front yards.”
“I think it has to be something else,” the chief said.
