by Bobbi Holmes
“I’m not sure.” Danielle shrugged. “According to Renton…”
“Renton?”
“Mr. Renton, he was my aunt’s attorney. According to him, everything in the house is pretty much as it was when he began managing her estate. All except the beds. I guess she was planning to come back to the US and stay at Marlow House. She didn’t want to sleep on ancient mattresses. Who can blame her? So she arranged to have new beds bought in and removed the old ones. For some reason she changed her mind about coming. As far as I know, the last time she was in the States was when she got married.”
“I suppose I should be grateful she didn’t let Marlow House fall into decay.”
“Will you get out of my bed now?” Danielle considered giving him a little shove, yet remembered it wouldn’t do any good.
“Do you always dress that way to sleep?” Walt eyed Danielle.
Lifting her blanket slightly she peeked under her covers. There was no way he could see what she wore—at least not now.
“You watched me dress!” Danielle gasped.
“More accurately, undress and redress again.” Walt puffed happily on his cigar.
“I expect you to respect my privacy!”
“When a beautiful young woman chooses to undress in my bedroom, you can’t expect me to look away.”
“I’d expect for you not to be here,” she snapped. Beautiful young woman—well, I suppose that is sort of sweet, she thought.
“I won’t follow you into the bathroom,” he promised.
“While I appreciate that, I’d also like some privacy here.”
“Why? It’s not like I can actually take advantage of you, and frankly, I’ve missed watching beautiful women. I’m afraid Joanne wasn’t much to look at. Plus she was closer to my mother’s age.”
“You mean your granddaughter’s,” Danielle corrected.
“I suppose if I had a granddaughter, she could possibly be Joanne’s age today, but that is hardly the point. And you never answered my question.”
“What question?” Danielle felt flustered.
“Do you always dress like that for bed? I’d like to see you in one of Angela’s silk nightgowns. You definitely have the figure for it. Much more feminine.”
Danielle was both annoyed and flattered. She had never been happy with her body. For starters, she believed she was too short. The only time she didn’t feel short was when she stood next to Lily. But then she felt overweight, considering her friend’s tiny frame—tiny except for Lily’s generous bust line.
Even if Danielle bleached her dark hair, she would never be a leggy blonde. While she wouldn’t call herself fat exactly, she had fifteen pounds she had been trying to shed since high school to no avail. Maybe if she were a few inches taller those extra pounds wouldn’t bother her so much. She suspected the only reason her B-cup boosted cleavage was due to her extra pounds and had she slimmed down to her goal weight, that cleavage would disappear. Regularly riding her bicycle hadn’t helped her lose weight, though it did keep her toned. Considering all that, Danielle couldn’t help but be a little flattered that a man—albeit one who had been dead almost 90 years—found her figure negligee worthy.
“Those thoughts seem a little…earthy for a ghost,” Danielle noted.
“Sorry, Danielle. I don’t know the rules.” Walt gave a shrug and then continued. “Why aren’t you married? You aren’t, are you?”
“Married?” Danielle frowned, glancing down at her left hand.
“Just how old are you?”
“You are a nosy ghost.”
“I detest that term. Please refrain from using it,” he ordered.
“What term?”
“Ghost. I’m still the man I’ve always been.” Walt paused and reconsidered his words. “Perhaps I’m not exactly the man I used to be—physically I appear to be somewhat—well elusive perhaps. But I feel the same—at least I do now, since you’ve let in the light.”
“Let in the light? What in the world are you talking about?” Danielle released hold of her blanket and folded her hands on her lap, atop the covering.
“For as long as I can remember I’ve been lost in a fog. Wandering this house, confused as if I had enjoyed a bit too much brandy. I wondered what was keeping Angela, why we had a new housekeeper, one who refused to talk to me. Understanding my current state has clarified things for me—brought everything into focus.”
“I’m happy things are clearer for you now, but…”
“Why aren’t you married?” Walt interrupted. “You’re far too old to be unwed, and you don’t look like a woman who would live out her life as an old maid.”
“You think I look old?” She liked it better when he was complimenting her looks.
“Just how old are you?”
“Thirty if you must know…”
“Thirty? Good lord, you can’t be serious.” He seemed genuinely surprised.
“For a ghost you can sure be a jerk sometimes,” Danielle grumbled, leaning back on the headboard.
“It’s just that I thought you were around twenty-one, twenty-three at the most.”
“Well…I suppose you’re not that much of a jerk,” Danielle muttered.
“You’re four years older than me,” Walt announced.
“Okay, now you’re back to being a jerk again.” Danielle folded her arms across her chest and glared at Walt.
“Clearly an old maid in spite of your looks.”
Danielle groaned, grabbed hold of her blanket again and scooted down in the bed, pulling the bedding up over her head. Walt glanced over at the lump hidden under the coverings and chuckled.
“I’m sorry if you take offense at being called an old maid, but I did give you a compliment. You are a very attractive young woman. Perhaps the reason for your state of matrimony has something to do with how you dress. I’d like to see you dolled up.”
“If you must know, I was married,” Danielle blurted after she sat back up and uncovered her head.
“What happened, did he leave you when you refused to dress as a woman?” Walt asked with a grin.
“Lucas died.”
Walt eyed her curiously for a moment before responding. He noted a hint of sadness shadowing her features. “You certainly don’t expect me to be sympathetic? Especially considering my state.”
“Your state?” Danielle puzzled.
“Obviously. Like your husband, I’m no longer alive. So where is he?” Walt glanced around the room. “Does this mean I can’t see him in the same way your friend, Lily can’t see me?”
“He isn’t here. At least I don’t think so.”
“Why not? I thought you can see…well…people like us.”
“I can’t control what spirit I see.”
“Spirit. I believe I prefer that term to ghost.”
“Well I want to be politically correct so I’ll be sure to call you a spirit and not a ghost,” Danielle quipped sarcastically.
“Why can’t you see him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know why I can see some spirits and not others. After my parents died I never once saw them. They didn’t come to me. Neither did Lucas.”
“You lost your parents too?” Walt asked softly.
“Yes.”
“Have you any brothers or sisters?”
“No. Just an exceedingly annoying cousin named Cheryl.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincerely sympathetic.
“I thought you weren’t going to give me sympathy for something as trivial as the death of a loved one.”
“It’s not the death—it’s being separated from them. What happened to your husband?”
“He was killed earlier this year in a car accident.”
“And you had no children?” he asked.
“No. At one time we talked about it.” But considering everything, it was best there were no children.
“My dear, one does not go about having children by talking about it. They come along most naturally. How long were you ma
rried before he was killed?”
“I was twenty-one when we were married. Why?”
“And you never had a child during your marriage?”
“We wanted to wait.”
“Good lord! What kind of a marriage is that?” Walt seemed appalled at the idea. Narrowing her eyes, Danielle looked over at him.
“When I said we wanted to wait, I meant we wanted to wait to have children—not that we were waiting to consummate our marriage—or enjoy each other physically. Sheesh….” Danielle shook her head at the idea. Then she added, “Fortunately, I live in an era when women can enjoy sex without getting pregnant.”
“Good lord woman, you’re brash.”
Danielle laughed and then said, “You make yourself home in my bed, quiz me about my marriage and then accuse me of being brash?”
“Wait a minute…you said your last name was Boatman, the same as your aunt’s. Does that mean Boatman was your maiden name, or did you marry your cousin?”
“While marrying one’s cousin might have been accepted in your time, it tends to be frowned upon these days. Boatman is my maiden name—I took it back after Lucas died.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I had my reasons.”
Walt didn’t ask what those reasons were. Instead he announced abruptly, “You really should get to sleep. You’ll need your rest if you’re going to prove I didn’t kill myself.” A faint sweet scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air after he disappeared.
I guess I’ll have to start dressing in the bathroom from now on, Danielle told herself. Rolling over on her side, she clutched a pillow in her arms and closed her eyes. Within fifteen minutes she was asleep, snoring softly.
Walt Marlow appeared next to the bed. Looking down, he watched as Danielle slept. “Danielle Boatman, I don’t believe I’ve ever met a woman quite like you,” he whispered.
Chapter Eleven
“Do you mind if I give Ian a tour of the house today?” Lily asked Danielle, during breakfast the next morning. The two sat across from each other at the kitchen table, each eating a bowl of cereal. Danielle had already dressed for the day, and was wearing a long pale-blue peasant skirt and a white lacy blouse. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a loose fishtail braid.
Lily had tamed her unruly rusty curls, bringing them together in a high pony tail. They spilled around her face in disarray. Over the red t-shirt and Hello Kitty pajama bottoms she’d slept in the night before, she wore a white terry cloth robe.
“I don’t see a problem, especially considering that he helped so much yesterday. He’s into old houses?” Danielle stood up and walked to the coffee maker, which had just finished brewing. She poured two cups of coffee, adding a splash of milk to each one. Walking back to the table, she handed one cup to Lily and sat back down.
“His father was a contractor. He enjoys restoration projects.”
“But he’s an English teacher, right?” Danielle sipped her coffee and looked up at Lily.
“Yes, but he doesn’t like talking about teaching. He says when he takes the summer off he doesn’t like to think about work.” Lily set her coffee cup down and started eating her cereal again.
“Really?” Maybe that dog knew what she was talking about. “Just be careful, Lily.”
“What do you mean?” Lily looked up and frowned.
“You really don’t know the guy. We just met him. Just be careful, that’s all.”
“Is there something about Ian you don’t like?” Lily set her spoon down and looked across the table at Danielle.
“I don’t even know him. How can I dislike him?”
“I just get the feeling something about him rubs you the wrong way. And I really don’t understand why. He’s been sweet, helpful, the perfect gentleman.”
“I don’t know.” Danielle shrugged. “Maybe it’s the thing with Lucas.”
“Oh...” Lily’s gazed dropped to the table. “I didn’t even think about that.”
“I’m trying my best not to think about it. After all, that’s why I’m here, right?” Danielle forced a smile.
“Which reminds me...” Lily sounded cheerful again. “I had another dream last night. About Walt Marlow, and Lucas was in it, sort of.”
“Walt Marlow?”
“You know, the guy in the portrait. Remember? His grandfather built this house.”
“I remember, but what do you mean you had another dream?”
“I told you I had a dream about him the night we stayed at the motel. I can’t remember what it was—it was sorta crazy and mixed up. But last night I had another dream about him. He woke me up and asked me to tell him about Lucas.”
“What do you mean he woke you up?”
“In my dream. It’s not like he really woke me up!” Lily laughed.
“How do you know you were asleep?”
“What kind of question is that? I think my first clue was that the guy from the portrait was sitting on my bed with me. Of course, at the time I didn’t know I was dreaming.”
Danielle tensed. She relaxed slightly when Lily added, “My second clue was that my bed was sitting on the beach—under the stars. It was really quite lovely. I think we should try sleeping on the beach some night.”
“You say he asked you about Lucas?”
“I remember one thing that was kind of funny. He told me Ian was not a teacher—that the dog told him. Isn’t that hilarious? How does my brain come up with this stuff?”
“Yes…indeed…” Danielle’s head began to spin. “What did you tell him about Lucas?”
“I don’t remember exactly.” Lily shrugged. “I think I told him about Lucas’ death, what happened. Oh, but I remember one funny thing, he told me not to tell you we spoke. So please don’t tell him I told you!” Lily giggled.
“Anything else?”
“Wow, my mom used to say other people’s dreams are boring. I guess she was wrong.”
“I…I just find it interesting you’re dreaming about Walt Marlow.”
“I suppose it is to be expected. Staying in his house…that portrait. But I will have to admit, I was a little jealous in the dream.”
“Jealous, why?” Danielle asked.
“That this good looking guy is sitting on my bed with me and all he does is ask me questions about you. I mean really. It was my dream.” Lily grinned mischievously.
“Well…maybe the point of the dream was your subconscious telling you to be careful with Ian.” Danielle seriously doubted that was the case—Walt had in some way invaded her friend’s dreams.
“Perhaps,” Lily shrugged. She stood up and grabbed the empty cereal bowls and dirty silverware off the table and walked to the kitchen sink. “But maybe I want a dangerous summer romance.”
Danielle chuckled and stood up. Picking the milk carton off the counter, she put it in the ice chest.
Danielle looked in the cooler. “I guess I better pick up some ice.”
“So what’s the deal with the appliances?” Lily asked as she washed the dishes in the sink.
“The electrician and contractor are supposed to be here later this afternoon. I’d really like to get the new appliances installed by the end of the week. This camping out sort of sucks.”
“Are you going somewhere this morning? We talked about working in the yard, but it doesn’t look like you’re dressed for that.”
“No. I’ve a couple errands I want to run, to tie up some loose ends for the business,” Danielle lied.
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, it’ll be pretty boring.”
“You want me to get started with the yard?”
“No. The landscaper is stopping by later, and we might as well see what he’ll charge to get the yard in order. That way we can spend our energy getting the inside ready.”
“You want me to go ahead with that furniture inventory we talked about?” Lily asked.
“That would be great.”
“Would you mind if Ian helped me?”
&nbs
p; “Ian? You think he’d want to?”
“Like I said, he wanted a tour of the house—I’ve a feeling he might enjoy checking out the antique furnishings here.”
“Fine, if he wants to help.” Danielle paused a moment then added, “Tell him Sadie is welcome, if he wants to bring her.”
“Sadie? His dog?”
“No reason to leave her home all alone.”
“I guess he could tie her up in the back yard.”
“No, let her come inside. She doesn’t have to stay in the yard. “
“Okay, I’ll tell him Sadie is welcome. Thanks.”
Ten minutes later Danielle was upstairs in her bedroom. She had just tossed her purse onto the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress to slip on her shoes when she heard Walt’s voice.
“I must say you look very nice today, Danielle, all dolled up. You should dress like a woman more often, it suits you.”
Danielle looked up. Walt leaned casually against the fireplace, smoking a thin cigar. She wondered briefly why he always wore the same suit. Perhaps when one died they were only allowed one ensemble. The spirits she’d seen in the past—those she’d seen on more than one occasion—never changed outfits. She then wondered—who chose the clothes? Did Walt subconsciously make the selection or was there some fashion angel whose job it was to dress up the newly departed prior to haunting?
“Those things will kill you, you know,” Danielle said dryly. When Walt frowned, she gave a little nod and said, “The cigar.”
“Too late.” Walt shrugged.
“Do you have to smoke in my room?”
“I told you it was also my room.”
Walt watched as Danielle slipped on her second shoe and then asked, “Where are you going?”
“Back to the museum, to have a look at the rest of those newspapers. Hopefully I’ll find out what happened to Angela. Maybe get more details on your…your death.”
“I wish I could go along. Is your friend going with you?”
“No. Lily’s staying here and doing a furniture inventory.”
“Furniture inventory?”
“She’s going to make an itemized list of all the furnishings in the house—noting the condition of each piece, so we can get a better idea of what needs to be repaired or replaced. Ian may be here helping her. I know she plans to give him a tour of the house.”
