by Bobbi Holmes
Chapter Thirty-Three
“It really pisses me off to have to spend money fixing this window,” Danielle told Lily on Sunday morning as the two stood in the library looking at the boarded up window.
“Won’t your insurance cover it?” Lily asked.
“There’s a deductible, and if I claim it my rates will probably go up.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to report it to your insurance company?”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Tomorrow I’ll make a few calls and see how much it’s going to cost me.”
Danielle hadn’t seen Walt since the night before, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the Missing Thorndike, and wondering if the diamond and emerald necklace in the portrait was the same one Walt Marlow stole a century ago.
“Lily, you want to go out to breakfast?” Danielle had an idea and she didn’t want to discuss it in the house—just in case Walt was nearby listening in.
Almost an hour later Lily and Danielle sat together in a Frederickport restaurant, finishing their breakfast.
“Busy day tomorrow,” Lily noted as she spread strawberry preserves on her last piece of toast.
“Looking forward to having a real refrigerator. The electrician promises to have everything finished by the time the appliances arrive, and the plumber will be there at four to hook up the washing machine.”
“The rest of your stuff is arriving on Tuesday?” Lily asked.
“Yes. Not sure where I’m going to put it all. Maybe just have them take everything to the attic. It’s mostly boxes—I sold most of the furniture. If everything goes as planned, Marlow House B and B will be opening for business July 4th—not that I expect to have any customers right away.”
“You still plan on having a July 4th Open House?” Lily pushed her empty plate to the edge of the table.
“Yes. I know that’s pretty quick, but I think we can do it. And if I can wrap up the loose ends on Walt Marlow—and how he really died—I can put together some interesting brochures on the house’s history. I’m banking on the local newspaper running a feature article on it.”
“Which will be great exposure for your new business.” Lily glanced up and flashed a smile to the waitress who silently collected the dirty dishes from their table before walking away.
“Funny, we haven’t even been here a week, and I’ve done a complete 180 in how I’m approaching this new business.” Danielle picked up the bill left behind by the waitress.
“I noticed. On our drive up here, we were discussing names for the bed and breakfast,” Lily said with a chuckle.
“I know. You think Marlow House Bed and Breakfast sounds okay?”
“If you’re playing on the house’s history, it would be foolish to use something else.” Lily opened her purse and asked, “How much do you need?”
“I got this.” Danielle waved Lily’s hand away. ”Hey, would you mind if we stopped at Marie Hemming’s house?”
“That’s fine, but do you think she might be at church?” Lily asked.
“I’ll give her a call when we get to the car.” Danielle’s intention all along was to see Marie and to ask her questions regarding the jewel heist. She hadn’t wanted to mention it while still at Marlow House, for fear Walt might be listening.
After returning to the car, Danielle called Marie, who was at home and welcomed a visit. Before driving to the older woman’s house Lily and Danielle stopped by the bakery and picked up some pastries. The elderly woman greeted them at the gate and ushered them to the back porch where she had a pot of coffee and three cups waiting.
“I have been so anxious to see how it went yesterday,” Marie said as she took a seat at the patio table. “Was she the Emma Jackson you were looking for?”
“Not only was she the same Emma Jackson from the old newspaper articles, she was sharp and remembered the incident,” Danielle told her.
Danielle removed the pastries from the paper sack while telling Marie about their visit with Emma Jackson. Tucking a napkin under a sweet roll, she handed it to Marie, before giving one to Lily, and taking one for herself. She took a seat at the patio table with Lily and Marie. Marie stood up a moment and poured them each a cup of coffee while listening to Danielle.
“I have to admit, I wasn’t sure Emma Jackson would remember much—if any—of it, assuming of course she was the right woman. I’m so glad it worked out for you,” Marie said after Danielle finished recounting yesterday’s trip to Astoria.
“I wanted to ask you about something,” Danielle said after they finished discussing Emma Jackson.
“What is that?” Marie asked.
“You mentioned Walt Marlow was involved in a jewel heist.”
“A jewel heist? How come I’ve never heard about this?” Lily asked.
“I believe I mentioned it to Danielle when we first met,” Marie explained. Lily frowned at Danielle, wondering why she was just hearing about it now. “Funny thing, I hadn’t thought about that story in years—not since my father told me about it. But then that writer interviewed me about it—and later I mentioned it to you. I guess sometimes it just works that way.”
“A writer interviewed you?” Danielle asked.
“Yes, about a week before you arrived. I can’t remember his name.”
“Was it Jon Altar?” Lily asked.
“Yes! Yes that’s it!” Marie said brightly. “A nice young man; asked me if we could keep the interview between us—confidential. But I know I can trust you girls.” Marie leaned across the table and patted Lily’s hand and then Danielle’s hand.
“Did you tell him about the jewel heist?” Danielle asked.
“I still want to know what you two are talking about—what jewel heist?” Lily insisted.
“Before I was born there was a rather notorious jewelry heist in Frederickport,” Marie explained. “It was always referred to as the Missing Thorndike, because the necklace belonged to Eva Thorndike. In my father’s later years he confided in me that Walt Marlow was responsible.” Marie turned to Danielle. “But no, I didn’t tell Jon Altar about the stolen necklace. He asked me about it.”
“He asked you? Why?” Danielle asked.
“Apparently he’s doing a story on Eva Thorndike,” Marie explained. “He came across some information that suggested Walt Marlow was responsible—and that when Marlow died, he still had the necklace. Mr. Altar wanted to know if I had ever heard anything about the story, since my father was close to Marlow.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this when you mentioned Marlow was involved in a heist?” Danielle asked.
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Marie shook her head seriously. “I promised Mr. Altar I wouldn’t say anything.”
“That’s why Walt Marlow was killed!” Lily said excitedly.
“What do you mean?” Danielle frowned.
“Well duhh, if he stole some expensive necklace and supposedly had it when he died, and it has since disappeared—I’m assuming it has not surfaced—then doesn’t it stand to reason he was killed for the necklace?”
Danielle looked at Lily. She didn’t want to contradict her theory, because it wasn’t bad—except Walt had already insinuated the necklace was hidden somewhere in Marlow House.
“I imagine you told Adam about the necklace?” Danielle asked Marie.
“No, we never discussed it.”
“So he knows nothing about the Missing Thorndike?” Danielle asked.
“Of course he knows about the Missing Thorndike, that’s folklore around Frederickport. But we never discussed Walt Marlow’s possible involvement in the theft.”
“Why not?” Danielle asked.
“Oh…no reason really.” Marie pondered the question. “In all honesty, it never came up. After all, my father told me those things years ago, before Adam was ever born. And frankly, I never thought the necklace was still in the house. I’m sure Roger Calvert went through Marlow House with a fine tooth comb after Walt died. Knowing what kind of man Roger was, he probably
had the gems chiseled out of the piece and sold before hearing of his sister’s death.”
“They would have let him in Marlow House?” Danielle asked.
“Why, certainly. Remember, they didn’t know about Angela’s death right away. I don’t think anyone would’ve questioned Roger going into the house. After all, he was family.”
“So, Adam never, ever knew Walt Marlow might have taken the necklace?” Danielle couldn’t believe he didn’t know, considering he had broken into her house.
“I suppose he could have overheard Mr. Altar and me discussing it.” Marie shrugged.
“What do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“The day Mr. Altar came over, Adam and Bill Jones—Adam’s handy man—were in the kitchen. Bill was fixing my oven. Adam knows I don’t care for Bill, never have. The boys went to high school together and Bill was nothing but trouble. But Adam insists he’s changed and is good at what he does. I’ve told Adam if he wants Bill to do repairs here, he needs to stick around when he does it. I don’t want to be alone with the man.”
“You think Bill is dangerous?” Lily asked.
“Dangerous?” Marie laughed. “No. He is just irritating. Adam can deal with him.”
“So, you think it possible they overheard your conversation with Altar?” Danielle almost said with Ian, but caught herself.
“I suppose it is possible. Mr. Altar and I were sitting here, where we are now. The kitchen windows were open.”
Danielle glanced over to the nearby kitchen window. From where they were sitting, there was not a clear view into the kitchen—yet it was close enough to possibly overhear a conversation taking place on the patio if standing by the stove.
“Did Mr. Altar know your grandson and Bill were in the kitchen?” Danielle asked.
“Hmm…” Marie considered the question a moment. “I don’t think so. In fact, when Mr. Altar left, Adam came right outside and asked me who he was. I gave Adam his name, and told him he was interviewing me for an article. But…why is all this important?”
“Oh…I was just curious,” Danielle said. It’s not exactly a lie, she thought.
They chatted for about fifteen minutes longer when Marie’s grandson showed up at the house.
“Adam, I didn’t expect to see you for another hour,” Marie greeted when Adam walked out onto the patio.
“I didn’t realize you had company. Danielle…Lily…nice to see you both. How did your meeting with Emma Jackson work out?” He glanced from Lily to Danielle and smiled.
“It worked out nicely,” Danielle said sweetly, trying to conceal her true feelings toward the man for Marie’s sake. “Except for the fact Marlow House was broken into when we were in Astoria.”
“Broken into? You never mentioned that!” Marie gasped.
“I’m sorry to hear that. What did they take?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Lily answered before Danielle, who was about to lie and say “just our computer and televisions” to see how he would respond.
“Nothing? I guess you’re lucky.” Adam smiled.
“Why would someone break into the house and not take anything?” Marie asked.
“We think something scared them off,” Lily explained.
“Them?” Adam asked. “You think it was more than one person?”
“Oh, definitely. And we weren’t that lucky. They broke the library window to get in, now I have to hire someone to fix it.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Adam said.
Yeah, right, you jerk. You and that side kick of yours broke into my house….humm…I wonder…
“You know that man you brought over to Marlow House with you? When you brought the photographs over?” Danielle asked Adam.
“Bill? What about him?”
“You mentioned he does handy man work. I need someone to fix the window in the library,” Danielle said.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You hired that man to fix the window?” Walt paced the parlor floor as Danielle lounged casually on the small sofa watching him with wry amusement.
“Bill Jones. His name is Bill Jones. After all didn’t you say he was the one who actually broke the window?”
“Yes but…”
“Then it’s only right that he fix it.” Danielle smiled. Pulling the cellphone from her pocket she looked at the time and then tucked the phone back in her pocket. “He should be here in about fifteen minutes. Don’t you think it’s nice of him to fix the window on a Sunday? Lucky for me he was able to get everything he needed, even the glass pane.”
“You are paying a man to repair my window—a window he broke! That is absurd!” Walt boomed.
“Actually, it is my window. And who said anything about paying him?”
“I don’t understand? He agreed to do it for free?”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean I plan to pay him.”
“Exactly how do you intend to get away with not paying him?”
“I’ll figure something out,” Danielle said with a shrug. “Do you happen to remember what he was wearing yesterday?”
“Wearing? Clothes, why?”
“Gee thanks, you’re helpful.” Danielle rolled her eyes. “Do you remember the color of his shirt, his pants?”
“He was wearing denims. His shirt was red. Red plaid.”
“Are you certain?” Danielle asked.
“Yes, I’m certain. I remember taking aim at it when throwing croquet balls at him. Where’s Lily, by the way?” Walt glanced around.
“She has a migraine. She’s upstairs lying down, trying to take a nap. When we were at Marie’s, she had an interesting theory about what happened to the Missing Thorndike.”
At mention of the Missing Thorndike, Walt stopped pacing and stared at Danielle.
“That is the necklace you stole, isn’t it?”
“Is that what Marie told you?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“You know, I heard about the Missing Thorndike at the museum when I saw Eva Thorndike’s portrait. When Marie first mentioned her father said you were involved in a jewel heist I had no idea she was talking about the necklace in the portrait.”
“What was Lily’s theory?” Walt asked.
“She suggested someone killed you for the necklace, which would mean it is no longer in the house. A new motive for your killer.”
“No, I wasn’t killed for the necklace—no one knew I had it.”
“And it is still hidden in this house?”
“Didn’t I tell you it no longer mattered?”
“Funny thing about that,” Danielle said. “Maybe no one knew you took the necklace back then—but seems like a whole bunch of folks know about it now. Me, Lily, Marie, Adam Nichols, Bill Jones, Ian…”
“Ian?” Walt frowned.
“Seems Ian is working on a story about Eva Thorndike. Apparently he came across some information indicating you took the necklace.”
“That’s impossible.” Walt shook his head.
“Apparently not. The thing is, once you tell just one person, there is no guarantee your secret will remain a secret. I know you said something to Marie’s father. I’ve always wondered—why?”
“I had too much to drink.”
“Excuse me?” Danielle frowned.
“George and I were having brandy one evening and I was feeling especially melancholy. I never actually told him I took the necklace—just that I might have it.”
The doorbell rang, interrupting their discussion. Danielle jumped off the sofa and snatched a padlock off the coffee table. “I bet that’s Bill,” Danielle said as she went to answer the front door.
“This is a mistake,” Walt said, walking alongside Danielle as she made her way from the parlor to the entry hall.
“Whatever. Just behave yourself. And try not to be too distracting,” she whispered right before opening the front door.
“Ms. Boatman?” Bill greeted. Leaning to the right, and then the left, he looked over her shoulder into the house.
/> Danielle couldn’t help but notice his unease. Forcing a smile, she cheerfully greeted him. “I do so appreciate you coming over—and on a Sunday!”
“I have everything in the back of my truck. I was wondering if I could just pull up in the drive.”
“Certainly. The back gate is unlocked. You’ll find the padlock hanging on the gate. Go on in, and I’ll meet you at the back door to the kitchen. You can come in that way.”
Bill gave a little nod before turning around and walking back down the front walkway toward the street. Danielle stood at the open door. When she heard him start up his truck, she walked to the gate, padlock in hand. Chuckling to herself, she locked the front gate with the padlock.
“Why did you ask that man here?” Walt asked after Danielle returned to the house.
She closed the door and started walking to the kitchen. “I told you. He broke the damn window, he can fix it.”
• • • •
Bill unlatched the back entrance of Marlow House before pushing the gate wide open. Returning to his truck, he turned on the ignition, put the vehicle in drive and slowly turned into the driveway, parking in front of the broken window. Someone had boarded it up.
Bill chuckled to himself. He found it amusing that Danielle Boatman had called him to repair the window. He wasn’t thrilled about going back into the house, and he still didn’t understand what had happened in the attic, but he felt a measure of comfort knowing Boatman would be in the house with him. When he’d visited Marlow House the first time, nothing peculiar had happened, and she had been there then. Maybe when he was finished fixing the window he could get another look around the house. If nothing else, he would make some extra cash by fixing the window. Maybe I should drum up business by going around breaking windows and leaving my business card, Bill told himself.
After the incident in the attic, he and Adam had run like hell from the house, leaving by the front door and went straight to the rental to get Adam’s car. At the time they hadn’t considered someone might have seen them running down the street. It was a small town and so far he hadn’t heard anything, therefore assumed he was safe. He must be, after all, Danielle Boatman had even hired him to repair the library window.
