by Bobbi Holmes
Danielle didn’t respond immediately. Finally she said, “Do you have any idea who might have killed you?”
“I can only think of one person who had a motive.”
“Who?”
Walt stopped pacing and stared at Danielle, his expression blank. Finally his mouth curled into a sardonic smile.
“Who?” she asked again as he stood mute, smirking at her.
“Why, my lovely bride, of course.”
“Angela?” Danielle was not prepared for that answer.
“Yes, Angela, my fair bride.” He let out a bitter laugh and started pacing again. “I don’t know if I’m relieved that she died before me—or simply confounded that she wasn’t the one responsible.”
“I don’t understand. I got the impression that you loved your wife.”
“Oh, I loved her. At least I thought I loved her, in the beginning. But was it love or pride that I felt? Ego?”
“Ego?”
“We met in San Francisco. All the eligible and wealthy bachelors chased her; she was a prize. But I didn’t even have to chase her. She knew what she wanted, and I must say that stroked my ego.”
“What happened?”
“You mean, when did I realize she just wanted my money?”
“I guess that’s what I mean.”
“Not long after we returned from our wedding trip, my attorney dropped by my revised will and she took it upon herself to read it. She was furious Kathrine was in it.”
“But why? I mean, Angela would have inherited your estate had she lived and Kathrine wouldn’t have gotten anything.”
“She was angry that I slighted her brother. She told me he was family, and Kathrine was nothing more than a servant. She had a point of course—after all, I hadn’t added Kathrine to my will because of love for the woman, but because I loathed my brother-in-law. Angela and I got into an argument and in our heated exchange I told her I intended to add a codicil to the will to ensure her brother couldn’t touch my money even if she did inherit.”
“Is that even possible?”
“I don’t know. I never got a chance to talk to my attorney about it.”
“Why do you think she just wanted your money?”
“Our honeymoon was not ideal. I can’t really explain it. But she seemed to change. When we had the argument before she left for Portland I began to feel she was really no different from her brother. And then…then…” Walt paused a moment.
“What is it?”
“I just remembered something she said right before she left for Portland. Something she said under her breath. I don’t think she intended me to hear it, but I did.”
“Well, what was it?”
“Why is it some of my memories seem to have been locked away from me until now?”
“I don’t know how it all works.”
“Under her breath I heard her say—I can’t become a widow fast enough.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lily and Danielle spent the next morning away from Marlow House out shopping. Danielle picked out kitchen appliances, a new washer and dryer, and two flat screen televisions. They loaded the televisions in the car, but the appliances wouldn’t be delivered until the first of the next week. They got home in time for lunch and in time to greet the cable man who installed Danielle’s new landline, cable, and Internet.
Exhausted from the busy morning and afternoon, Danielle sprawled out on her bed and began flipping through the channels of her new television. Ian had stopped by fifteen minutes earlier to invite Lily and Danielle out for ice cream down at the pier. Danielle declined the offer, certain that Lily would rather have Ian to herself. Danielle was alone in the house, except for Walt, whom she had not seen since the night before.
“What in the hell is that?” Walt asked when he appeared in Danielle’s room. He stood in front of the television, hands on his hips, staring at the flat screen as Danielle flipped through channels.
“A TV. Or television. I guess you’ve never seen one.” Danielle stopped channel hopping and looked up at Walt, who was still staring at the new television. He watched in fascination as cowboys on horseback galloped across the screen in an old John Wayne movie. Still watching, his eyes fixed on the horseback riders; Walt backed up to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.
“A movie theatre in your home? Amazing…” Walt whispered in awe. “How is that possible?”
“There’ve been lots of changes in the world over the last hundred years,” Danielle explained.
“I’ve seen movies in color…I knew they were working on sound…but this…”
Danielle sat up and moved to the end of the mattress, sitting next to Walt. She showed him the television remote, and explained how it worked. Flipping through the channels she described the different viewing options—entertainment, news, sports, history, education, regular features, movies and more.
He began asking questions and she could barely finish answering one when he would ask another. He wanted to know everything from how the pictures got into the little box to programming choices.
“Think of reading material,” Danielle said when trying to explain the programing. “Watching a news show is sort of like reading the newspaper. Watching a sports show is like going to a sporting event, like a baseball game. A documentary, like something on The History Channel is like reading a non-fiction book, while watching a movie or some television programs is like reading a book of fiction. Like the movies back in your day, except with sound. Some shows, like cooking shows or home repair shows, are sort of like magazine articles for people who like to cook or fix up their houses. Some of the programs are just to entertain, while others inform.”
“Fascinating…” Walt murmured, his eyes still focused on the screen.
Danielle was about to change the channel when it changed on its own.
“What the heck?” Danielle frowned, looking at the remote in her hand. The channel changed again. She looked up at Walt.
“Did you do that?” she asked.
“Interesting.” Walt smiled as the channel changed again.
“You are doing that!”
Walt shrugged. “You told me to learn how to harness my energy. This is surprisingly easy. I don’t even need that little controller of yours.” Suddenly the television turned off. It then turned on again.
“Did you do that?” Danielle asked. Walt didn’t respond. He just smiled, his eyes fixed on the television. Shaking her head, she got up from the bed.
“Fine, watch if you want. But please, keep the sound down, especially when Lily gets back.” Danielle let out a weary sigh and then walked to the bedroom door and glanced back at Walt. He sat on the edge of the mattress, engrossed in the TV as he flipped through the channels—never once touching the remote. He reminded her of a child with a new toy. Shaking her head she left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Just as Danielle got downstairs she heard Lily and Ian entering the house. Lily was laughing and then Ian said something and laughed.
“How was the ice cream?” Danielle asked as she stepped on the landing.
“Good. You should have come with us,” Lily said as she, Ian and Sadie walked into the house. Sadie trotted over to Danielle, greeting her with a wet nose and wagging tail. Just as Danielle patted Sadie, the dog took off dashing up the staircase.
“Sadie!” Ian called after her.
“Oh, let her go,” Danielle chuckled. “She loves to explore up there, and there’s nothing she can get into.”
“I really don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. She’s never acted like that before.” Ian looked up the staircase where Sadie had just disappeared.
“Like what?” Lily asked.
“She doesn’t listen to me,” Ian said. “At least not over here. She’s never done that before, just taken off and ignored me.”
“She did that the first day we met,” Lily reminded him.
“What?” Ian frowned at Lily.
Danielle watched
Ian, noticing his brief confusion, and then the moment he realized what Lily was talking about. Sadie—according to Ian—had run off and ignored his command the day she’d run into the back yard of Marlow House. Or had she? Danielle wondered. What was Ian hiding? Had Ian used his dog as a ploy to meet Lily—that Danielle could accept—or was he lying about his profession. That she could not understand.
The doorbell rang, interrupting Danielle’s train of thought. Lily, who stood closest to the door, turned and opened it. Standing on the front porch were two men—the two men Lily and Ian had encountered at Pier Café. Lily’s eyes widened. The one she’d initially spoken to at the café wore dress slacks and shirt, and his companion wore denims and a blue work shirt. One of them was carrying a cardboard box.
“Hello, is Danielle Boatman here?” Adam Nichols asked. Danielle heard his question, but she could not see who was at the front door and stepped closer.
“You’re the man from Pier Café, the one who asked about Marlow House,” Lily said.
“Mr. Nichols? Hello, how is your grandmother?” Danielle asked, now standing next to Lily in the doorway.
“She’s fine. And please call me Adam. She found some photos of your aunt that she thought you might like.”
“Photos? Oh, please come in. Lily, this is Adam Nichols, he’s Marie Hemming’s grandson. I told you about her.” Danielle and Lily stepped aside and let the two men into the house. Ian stood quietly in the entry hall, watching.
“This is Bill Jones,” Adam introduced as Danielle shut the front door. “We had a job in your neighborhood and my grandmother wanted to know if I’d drop this off when we were over here.”
“Let’s go into the parlor,” Danielle suggested as Bill handed her the box. “This is my friend Lily and our friend Ian. He’s renting your grandmother’s house.”
“We met them at the café,” Lily explained as they walked into the parlor.
“We didn’t actually meet them,” Ian reminded her as he quietly looked the men over.
“Yes, Pier Café. We were discussing Ms. Boatman’s plans for Marlow House,” Adam said, looking at Lily before turning to Danielle and asking, “You’re turning Marlow House into an inn, I understand?”
“Please call me Danielle. And not an inn exactly, a B and B. Lily mentioned meeting you. Of course, I had no idea you were Marie’s grandson. How did you hear about my plans?”
“I have to keep up on the potential competition.” Adam grinned.
“Competition?” Danielle set the cardboard box on a small table by the window.
“I own Frederickport Vacation Properties,” Adam explained. “Bill here works for me, does repairs and maintenance.”
“That’s who I rented my house from,” Ian said. “Frederickport Vacation Properties.”
“Yes, I handle my grandmother’s properties. How’s the house working out for you?” Adam asked.
“So far, so good.” Ian smiled.
Adam turned to Danielle. “If you ever need a handy man—especially to help you get this place open, I can vouch for Bill here. He’s dependable. Been working for me since I opened the company.”
“I’m always looking for new jobs,” Bill spoke up. “Need to keep busy.”
“Well, thanks.” Danielle smiled as she opened the box Bill had handed her. “I’ll remember that.”
“Does your grandmother need these back?” Danielle asked. “I could scan them.”
“Oh no, they’re yours if you want them. Grandma’s been going through her things. Giving photos to family members and friends. She thought you might like these.”
“That was very thoughtful of her…” Danielle murmured as she sorted through the box looking at the photographs, turning each one over to read the inscription on the back. Lily stood at her side looking at the pictures.
Lily picked up one of the photographs. “She was a beautiful woman.”
“Yes, she was. But these pictures of her at the boarding school, it sort of breaks my heart,” Danielle said, studying one photograph.
“Why is that?” Adam asked.
“It’s just so sad that she lost her mother. That there wasn’t any family to take her in.”
“What happened to her father?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know anything about him,” Danielle said. “To be honest, my aunt never discussed her parents. I didn’t even realize she’d been orphaned at such a young age. Not until I talked to Ben over at the museum.”
“She and her mother never lived at this house, did she?” Bill asked, looking around the room curiously.
“As far as I know, they never did.” Danielle placed the photos back in the box and closed the lid.
“I sure would love to see the rest of this house,” Bill said. “I’ve always wondered what it looked like inside. Seems like it’s in great shape.”
“Well come, I’ll give you both a tour if you like,” Danielle offered.
“Thanks, we’d love that,” Adam said.
Lily and Ian stayed in the parlor while Danielle showed Adam and Bill from the room to the entry, heading first to the library.
“Something about those guys sort of creeps me out,” Lily said when Adam and Bill were out of earshot.
“I know what you mean,” Ian agreed. “If I understand correctly, the guy dressed like a car salesman—Adam—is the grandson of the woman who owns the house I’m renting? And she knew Danielle’s aunt, the one who left her Marlow House?”
“Yes. Dani told me all about it when we went shopping this morning. I guess her aunt, actually her great-aunt by marriage, was just a little girl when her mother inherited this house from her employer, Walt Marlow.”
“Yes, the man in the portrait. How did he die exactly?”
“Walt Marlow? Gee, I’m not really sure, we didn’t talk about him. The only thing I know about him is that he left his estate to his wife, but if his wife died before him, the house was to go to his housekeeper. That was the mother of Dani’s aunt, Kathrine O’Malley.”
“So obviously, his wife died first.”
“Yes. Not long after Katherine inherited the house she remarried—and this is the interesting part—she killed her new husband and then fell to her death, leaving poor Dani’s aunt an orphan.”
“So Danielle really knew nothing about the history of Marlow House. Were any stories passed down from her aunt?”
“No. She didn’t know anything until she talked with the people at the museum and Marie Hemming.”
“How did you know the portraits in the library were of Walt Marlow and his wife? I didn’t notice any name plaques on the paintings.”
“Dani told me.”
“But how did she know?”
“I’m not really sure,” Lily shrugged. “I recall asking Dani about that when we first saw the portraits, and she said it was just something she remembered.”
“So she did know some history about the house and Walt Marlow before coming to Frederickport.”
“I guess so…”
Chapter Eighteen
“Is that Walt Marlow?” Adam asked, looking up at one of the portraits in the library.
“Yes,” Danielle answered.
“So he’s the one who hung himself in the attic.” Bill glanced briefly at the painting then turned his attention to the rest of the library. As he walked along the bookshelves his fingertips traced the outline of the woodwork.
“I don’t think he hung himself. I think he was murdered.” The moment Danielle said the words she realized she believed them. Walt Marlow had been murdered. But who killed him? She wondered.
Walt admitted he had been involved in the jewel heist and with moonshining. Had someone from his shady past had a reason to kill him? Or was it Angela and her twin brother? Had Roger been in Frederickport all along? Was Angela only in Portland to establish an alibi for herself and her brother? No doubt she’d visited friends in Portland who could have vouched for her when she was questioned about her whereabouts during her husband’s death. How
ever, she had been killed in an accident, which meant instead of becoming a rich widow, she’d made Walt a widower—and his fortune would pass on not to her brother, but to the housekeeper.
Had Roger found a way to get his hands on Walt’s money—and perhaps Kathrine discovered the truth. Was it possible Kathrine killed Roger out of self defense? Danielle’s mind raced with all the possibilities.
“I’ve heard my grandmother mention that,” Adam said.
Danielle stared up at the portrait, paying little attention to the two men who took special interest in the library—and all its architectural secrets.
Adam glanced over at Danielle. When he could see she was not watching him, but studying the portrait, he gently wiggled and pressed along the fireplace mantle and pushed against paneling covering the wall.
Danielle faced the men. “I would really appreciate it if we don’t discuss Walt Marlow.” She frowned slightly when she noticed the way both Bill and Adam abruptly dropped their hands to their sides and looked sheepishly in her direction.
Adam reached out and awkwardly patted the paneling next to the fireplace. “Love these old houses. They sure don’t build them like this anymore.”
“No…I guess they don’t,” Danielle said with a puzzled frown.
“Why don’t you want us talking about Marlow?” Bill asked.
“Well…you know… feng shui and all.” Danielle said weakly, glancing up to the ceiling. She wondered if Walt was still glued to the television.
“Feng shui? Isn’t that some hippy dippy thing?” Bill asked. “What’s it have to do with Marlow?”
“The man did die in this house,” Danielle whispered. “I really see no reason to stir all that up—negative energy and all.”
“You believe in ghosts?” Adam asked.
“Ghosts? Why, certainly not!” Danielle gave a nervous laugh. “But I do believe in the power of positive and negative energy, and frankly a violent death, be it by suicide or murder could interfere in my efforts to create…well a positive feng shui…harmony. After all, I do intend to open Marlow House to guests. I’d like this place to have an inviting aura.”
