by Bobbi Holmes
“You’re stuck here because of the role you played in Walt’s death, aren’t you?”
“It isn’t as if I was the one who put the noose around his neck. In all fairness, I tried to stop Roger.”
“So you didn’t conspire with your brother to kill your husband?”
Angela didn’t answer immediately. Finally she let out a deep sigh and sat on the grass, leaning against her headstone. “I didn’t know it would be this difficult.”
“What do you mean?” Danielle sat on the grass next to her.
“To be honest, I would rather be less than truthful and cast a more favorable light on my past behavior. But alas, if I do that I will be forever shackled to this dismal place.”
“I’m listening,” Danielle said, waiting for Angela to tell her whatever she needed to say.
“Men marry women all the time who they don’t love—and they don’t care if the woman loves them. We are after all, nothing more than a man’s possession. Something they can show off like a new motor car—the prettier, the better.”
“It isn’t like that anymore.” Danielle reconsidered her words and then added, “Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. But yes, back when you married Walt women were second-class citizens.”
“Roger convinced me that if I had to marry someone, I should find the richest and most manageable man possible. When I met Walt, I knew he was the one. Not only was he the sole heir to the Marlow fortune, it was a well-known fact that he had been pining away for years over that cheap actress. It wasn’t as they were in a relationship when she died—she had married another man, for heaven’s sake!”
“Had you always planned to kill him?”
“Oh my, you are blunt. But no, not in the beginning. But when I read that damn will and saw he would rather leave his money to our housekeeper than my brother if we both died, I wondered, what next? Would he get angry and write me out of his will? Divorce me and leave me penniless? He would, you know.”
“So you and your brother conspired to kill him?”
“I must admit, it doesn’t sound very nice when you say it,” Angela said with a pout.
“No, no it doesn’t.”
“But I tried to stop Roger, honestly!”
“Go on.”
“The plan was simple. I was to go spend some time with Roger in Portland and establish an alibi for the two of us. I stopped by Walt’s lawyer, told him I was staying in Portland with Roger.”
“You also told him Walt was acting strange, maybe even suicidal.”
“I never said suicidal. But yes, I wanted to establish a reason for why he was drinking excessively, to make the accident more believable.”
“Accident? How can a hanging be an accident?”
“Roger was not going to hang Walt. I told you I tried to stop him!”
“I must be missing something…” Danielle shook her head.
“I knew Walt would be drinking brandy before he went to bed. The plan was for Roger to sneak into Frederickport on Wednesday. I gave him my key, so he could easily get into the house without being detected. The plan was for Roger to simply sneak up behind him when he went up to go to bed and push him off the top landing. The fall would certainly kill him—or so we thought, and it would look like he’d had too much to drink and stumbled to his death.”
“So what happened?”
“I was hit by that damn car, and the next thing I know I’m back in Marlow House.”
“You mean your spirit?”
“Obviously,” Angela said impatiently. “There was my brother getting ready to kill Walt and I knew in that instant my soul would be damned for eternity if I didn’t do something to stop it. I had no idea how to make my presence known—I had only been dead for such a short time. But I managed to give my brother a little shove.”
“What happened?”
“My intent was to push him out of the way before he hurled Walt to his death. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out like I had hoped. Roger managed to shove Walt, but instead of Walt falling down the landing he was just thrown against the wall, hit his head and was unconscious.”
“The wound on the back of his head,” Danielle murmured.
“I tried to convince Roger to leave him there, but he couldn’t hear me. In fact, Roger was in a rage, talking out loud to himself, trying to figure out how to kill Walt. Since Walt was only unconscious, Roger began to wonder if being tossed off the landing would kill him. What then, bash in his head with a mallet, and leave no doubt it was murder? That’s when Roger decided to drag his body upstairs and make it look like suicide.”
“So he didn’t have an accomplice, other than you?”
“No. Roger was the only one there that night—other than me and Walt.”
“After he killed Walt, what happened?” Danielle asked.
“Things became very…unsettled for me…I’m not really sure where I was…it was all very confusing…like a dream. And then one day I was at the cemetery, watching my funeral. Roger was there. My first thought was, why did he bury me in Frederickport? I wanted to go back to Portland. I have been here ever since.”
“I imagined you were buried here because you were married to Walt Marlow.”
“I should have never have listened to my brother.”
“Did you see Roger again?”
“You mean after he killed Walt?” Angela asked.
“Yes.”
“Only at my funeral, but he couldn’t hear me. Couldn’t see me. I tried to talk to him. Warn him that he needed to make some sort of restitution or he would end up in a worse place than me. I may be stuck here, but had I not tried to prevent Roger from killing Walt, I’m certain I would be someplace much worse.”
“Did you know Roger married Kathrine O’Malley?”
“Oh yes, she told me when she arrived. My sister-in-law.” Angela laughed sardonically.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lily pushed the gates wide open while the delivery van, its engine idling, parked at the side entrance waiting patiently. When she finished her task she gave the driver a little wave and watched as the van slowly made its way down the driveway before parking by the kitchen door.
Upstairs Walt watched from the attic window. He’d tried to talk to Danielle when she returned from the police station, but Lily was in the room, making it impossible to have a conversation. One thing he had noticed, Danielle seemed distracted when she returned earlier. By the way everyone was rushing around in the house—the electrician, the plumber and now the delivery men—he wondered if she was simply overwhelmed. What she needed in her life was a man to take care of things. He thought it foolish that two attractive young women like Lily and Danielle would be on their own without a man’s guiding hand.
Turning from the window, Walt walked to the far wall, his gaze focused on the paneling along the floorboard. Leaning down on one knee he reached out to touch the paneling, preparing to push in and and to the side, when he paused a moment.
“I can’t really touch it…my hand is only an illusion,” he said aloud. “But if I concentrate it will seem as if I can.” His hand touched the paneling and with concerted effort it moved to one side, revealing a compact storage area. Reaching into the hidden compartment he pulled out a velvet pouch.
“I took you for her, you know,” Walt said as he opened the pouch, revealing a gold necklace identical in appearance to the one in Eva’s portrait. “I should have simply tossed you in the ocean decades ago, but then I suppose they would still come looking for you.” Gently he returned the necklace to its pouch, and then to the hidden compartment in the wall.
It was dark by the time everyone but Danielle left Marlow House—the electrician, plumber, delivery men and even Lily. Walt found Danielle in the kitchen admiring her new refrigerator. She stood in front of the stainless steel double door appliance, the doors wide open, its interior lit and on it’s shelf an almost empty half gallon carton of milk and cube of butter.
“I noticed Lily left. Where did she go?�
� Walt asked.
Danielle closed the refrigerator and turned to face Walt. “She went with Ian to get pizza. They asked me to go with them, but I’ve had a long day.”
“You look exhausted,” he noted.
“I saw Angela.”
“Excuse me?” Walt frowned.
“When I came back from the police station I took another way home. I went by the cemetery.”
“I thought you said you avoided cemeteries.”
“I normally try to, but it doesn’t always work out.”
“I assume when you say you saw Angela…she is like me?”
“A spirit? Ghost? Yes.”
“How is she?”
“Dead.”
“I thought you saw her spirit.”
“I did,” Danielle said with a shrug. She walked to the kitchen table and sat down. “But she is still dead. Looks great though. Hasn’t changed a bit in 89 years.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yes. Come, sit down, this is going to be a long story.”
After Walt joined her at the table, Danielle began by telling him of her trip to the police station and what she’d learned by reading the autopsy.
“Of course, I could have saved a lot of time if I had just stopped at the cemetery first,” Danielle said before telling Walt how she had happened to turn down the street leading to the cemetery.
“She knew I was trapped here?” Walt asked after she told him about Angela’s confession and how she had tried to stop Roger.
“She said Kathrine told her. I’m not sure exactly how Kathrine knew, but from what I’m starting to piece together from all this, when you die not everyone has the same abilities. I’m not sure if it’s determined by what you did when you were alive, or if your own issues hold you back. For example, Kathrine seemed to know that you’re trapped in this house; she was troubled by it and went to great lengths to find someone that could help you.”
“That’s why Brianna left you Marlow House,” Walt said.
“I think so. Kathrine wasn’t prepared to leave this realm, not when she believed her daughter needed her. She regularly visited my aunt’s dreams, beginning when Brianna was just a small child. Brianna probably assumed they were comforting dreams, nothing more. According to Angela, Brianna told her mother how I communicated with spirits. I never discussed this with my aunt and uncle—ever. My guess is that my parents discussed it with them when I was a child, when they sent me to therapy.”
“You said Kathrine moved on…she’s no longer at the cemetery?”
“It sounds like she moved on about the time Brianna passed away. I guess she figured her job was done here. Unlike Angela, Kathrine wasn’t trapped at the cemetery—it was her choice to stay. I suspect you’re trapped here by your own personal unresolved issues, whereas Angela is, as she put it…under house arrest. Her past sins are holding her here. She was hoping I could in some way help free her, like she believes I’ll be able to free you.”
“Did Angela know anything about the marriage between her brother and Kathrine?”
“It was as we suspected: he seduced her for her inheritance. Apparently he planned to get rid of her in the same way he originally intended to get rid of you. She shot him out of self-defense. I suppose his plan worked, because she died not long after she fell. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t intend to go alone. I have no idea how she happened to have a gun. Angela didn’t have an answer. I guess that’s something we’ll never know.”
“I wonder what would have happened to Brianna,” Walt asked.
“You mean if he would have successfully pushed Kathrine down those stairs without getting shot?”
“Yes.” Walt nodded.
“I don’t know. I suppose he could have played the part of the doting stepfather, while spending her fortune. But the most likely scenario, considering his track record, the poor child would have met a similar fate as her mother.” Danielle glanced down at the tabletop, her hands fidgeting with its edge. They sat in silence for a few minutes, considering the day’s events.
“The necklace is in the attic,” Walt announced.
“What?” Danielle’s head shot up. She looked Walt in the eyes.
“Come, I’ll take you to it.” Walt stood up.
Danielle followed Walt to the attic and watched as he removed the velvet pouch from its hiding place. After he handed it to her she gingerly removed the necklace from the pouch.
“It’s beautiful,” she said in awe.
“It’s not real,” Walt said.
“What? Not real?” Danielle looked from the necklace in her hand up to Walt and then back to the necklace.
“That’s why I took it. I did it for her.”
“It was fake all along?” Danielle asked.
“No.” Walt reached out and took the necklace from Danielle. Holding it in his hand he studied its glittering stones. “The necklace had been passed down in her family for several generations. She was her parent’s only child and it naturally went to her.”
“What happened?”
“She was young and foolish, married another actor who quickly abandoned her when she got so ill. It wasn’t until after he left her that she realized he’d removed the diamonds and emeralds from the necklace and replaced them with fake stones. She was so embarrassed. She didn’t want her parents to know how foolish she had been.
“Eva knew she was dying. The necklace would go back to her parents and she didn’t want them to be humiliated if they took it to a jeweler for some reason. She didn’t want some stranger telling them the family heirloom was fake, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell them the truth.”
“She asked you to take it?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. We made it look like someone had broken in while I was visiting her. At the time I was never a suspect; not only was Eva my alibi, I don’t think anyone would have imagined I would steal the necklace, considering who I was.” He handed the necklace back to Danielle.
“I assume the gold is real?” she asked.
“Yes. He only swapped out the stones.”
“It’s probably still valuable—even with the fake gems. Are you sure they’re fake? They look so real.”
“Yes. Before Eva returned to Frederickport she took the necklace to a jeweler in Portland, to see if her hunch was correct. She showed me his appraisal.”
“Was the necklace insured?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Wow, how did Eva’s parents react when the necklace went missing?”
“They were losing their daughter, so it wasn’t important to them, considering everything. Her parents were devastated over Eva’s death; she was the world to them.”
“That is so sad,” Danielle murmured. She tucked the necklace back into the pouch. “I was wondering—how did you happen to tell George Hemming about the necklace—that you took it?”
“It was the anniversary of Eva’s death. She had been gone for about seven years, and I hadn’t met Angela yet. George was over, we were having a brandy. I guess I had a little too much to drink; I was feeling sorry for myself and missing Eva. Out of the blue he says, I wonder who took that necklace? You have any idea, Walt? Without even thinking I say, it’s upstairs tucked away, who did you think took it? George just looks at me, and I smiled. He and I never spoke about it again.”
“I’ll get it back to Eva’s heirs. It’s still beautiful, even if it is a fake, and it should go back to them. It’s only the right thing,” Danielle said.
“I honestly don’t know who that would be. They never had any other children, but she did have cousins. Her parents sold their Frederickport house after Eva died and moved back to Boston.”
“Where is she buried?”
“In Boston, where her family’s from.”
“Maybe you’ll see her again, when you move onto wherever you’re supposed to go.”
“You think so?” Walt looked into Danielle’s eyes and smiled softly. “Perhaps, but even if I don’t, it’s okay. I came t
o terms with my relationship with Eva long before I died. I loved her once and she loved me, but I understand she loved me like a brother, nothing more.”
“I’m sure there are others you’re looking forward to seeing,” Danielle said in a soft voice.
“I don’t know.” Walt shrugged. “I never really knew my parents, they died when I was young and my grandparents raised me.”
“Hopefully the truth coming out will give you the freedom you need. After I put everything together I’ll see if the newspaper is interested in writing a feature article. It’s too bad I can’t use the information Angela gave me, but I think I have enough.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
In one hand she carried her sandals and in another her beach bag and towel. Looking down at her bare feet Danielle wiggled her toes as she walked. Wearing flip flops on a sandy beach gave her the same unpleasant sensation as fingernails on chalkboard. She preferred to dive right in, immerse her feet and toes in warm sand as opposed to teasing her soles with gritty matter, trapped between shoes and feet.
“I think you had a good idea,” Lily said as she walked alongside Danielle.
“I haven’t been to the beach since the first day we arrived in Frederickport. Which is crazy since it’s just a block away and the weather is amazing. Although I wish it was a little warmer.” Danielle breathed in the clean air, smiling as the cool breeze caressed her face.
“I guess we can fill up that new refrigerator later.” That morning at breakfast Lily had suggested they spend the morning grocery shopping.
“There is always time for that. I wanted to talk to you about something and thought it might be nice to do it down here.” Danielle stopped and looked to the right and then the left. The beach was sparsely occupied with the closest people a good distance away. Tossing her shoes and purse on the sand she spread out her towel and sat down. Lily followed suit.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Lily stretched out on her towel.
Before Danielle could answer they heard Ian’s voice call out Sadie! Looking from the ocean to the street, Danielle and Lily watched as Sadie raced toward them, Ian sprinting behind her, calling her name.
