The Ghost and the Leprechaun

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “We know the camera mysteriously moved for several minutes, leaving that area near Boatman’s safe deposit box no longer in view. It could have happened then, which is why I asked if any of the bank employees have a safe deposit box in that area.”

  “You also said none of the cameras detected anyone coming in or out of the vault area during the time frame.”

  “Something moved that camera,” Wilson reminded him.

  “I’m sure it was something like a minor earthquake tremor,” Alan suggested.

  “We have considered that.”

  “Then why all these questions? I thought you already determined none of the other cameras or videos were tampered with?”

  Wilson arched his brows. “Did I say that?”

  Alan stared at the special agent for a few minutes. Finally, he asked in a quiet voice, “What do you want from me?”

  Wilson smiled. “You could start with the information I asked about; do any of the bank employees have a safe deposit box in that area?”

  Fourteen

  “The anniversary celebration is less than two weeks away,” Lily reminded Danielle on Tuesday morning. “This isn’t like you to put things off.”

  Danielle poured herself a cup of coffee. It was her third cup that morning. She paused for a moment, asking herself if filling up with caffeine was a terrific idea. But then she shrugged and added milk to the cup. “I didn’t even agree to have one until this past weekend.”

  “Exactly. And it’s Tuesday already. We don’t have much time. And when I ask you about the plans, you say, I haven’t thought about it.”

  Danielle shrugged and took her cup to the kitchen table and sat down. “Well, I haven’t. Whatever we do, it won’t be as big as last year’s. More low key. And anyway, technically speaking, we missed our first-year anniversary. We moved in June tenth.”

  “You know it isn’t the same thing.” Lily grabbed the last piece of coffee cake, set it on a napkin, and poured herself a glass a milk. She took them to the table and joined Danielle. “I have an idea for the open house, but we’d need to get an ad in the paper this week.”

  “What is it?”

  After Lily shared her idea, Danielle said, “I like it. Sorry I’ve been such a flake about this. Too many distractions lately.”

  “The gold coins?”

  Danielle wrinkled her nose. “Partly. But it’s not like losing the coins impacts my standard of living. I mean seriously, those sorta fell out of the sky and have been nothing but a pain in the butt. It would have been nice to donate the money to a good cause. I suppose if anything, I’m curious about what happened to them.”

  “What else is distracting you?” Lily asked.

  “I bet it’s the leprechaun,” Walt said when he suddenly appeared by the table.

  Danielle looked up at Walt and smiled. “I thought you said there were no such things as leprechauns?”

  Walt shrugged and took a seat. Lily watched as the seemingly empty chair next to her moved out from the table and then scooted slightly back in.

  “Morning, Walt,” Lily said as she nibbled her coffee cake.

  Walt reached over and lifted Lily’s glass of milk up off the table, as if to say hello. She watched the glass rise and set back down. Grinning at Walt’s place, she put another piece of cake in her mouth.

  “No, I don’t believe in leprechauns. But you know I’m not fond of the term ghost. So for this palooka, we can agree to call him a leprechaun.”

  “Does Walt think this guy is a leprechaun now? What next? Are unicorns real too?”

  Walt shook his head at Lily. “Did she just compare me to a unicorn?”

  “No, Lily, Walt didn’t say they’re real. He just has that ghost fetish.” Danielle reached over and snatched a hunk of coffee cake from Lily’s napkin.

  “Doesn’t fetish mean he likes something?” Lily asked.

  “Then a fetish for loathing the word,” Danielle suggested. “Whoever this character dressed up in a Saint Patrick’s Day costume is, I’d like to figure out what his deal is so he would move on.”

  “When are your guests arriving? You said there are two couples?” Walt asked.

  Danielle set her cup on the table and leaned back in the chair. “They’re supposed to be here by noon. I told Joanne she didn’t have to come in today, since their rooms are ready.”

  “So what’s the deal with these two? Typically, our guests don’t make reservations on a Sunday for a Tuesday,” Lily asked.

  “One of them told me they had already made a reservation through a private party to rent their house for the week. But then on Friday they had some plumbing issue, and it won’t be fixed until next week. They didn’t want to cancel, since they already put in their time at work.”

  “You said both couples are from Portland?” Lily asked.

  “Yes.” Danielle picked up her cup and finished the last of her coffee. She then set it back down on the table. “The other couple is celebrating their anniversary, and it sounded like they’re not big on planning ahead.”

  “Like you and the open house?” Lily smirked.

  It was not quite eleven a.m. when the doorbell rang. Danielle assumed it was probably the first of her guests to arrive. But when she swung the door open, she was pleasantly surprised to find Melony Jacobs standing on her doorstep, holding a cardboard file box in her arms.

  The attractive blonde’s hair was carelessly clipped atop her head, and she didn’t appear to be wearing a smidgen of makeup. In spite of that, she looked utterly lovely, and if Danielle wasn’t a self-confident woman, she might have experienced a flash of jealousy.

  Instead, Danielle quickly ushered Melony inside, and as soon as the woman set the box on the floor, the two hugged in greeting.

  “Adam told me you were moving back,” Danielle said with a smile. “Welcome home. You just missed Lily. She and Ian drove over to Astoria today.”

  Melony leaned down and picked up the box. “There will be plenty of time to visit with them later, since I’ll be staying,” Melony said with a grin, now holding the box in her arms again.

  Danielle nodded to the cardboard container. “What’s in there?”

  “It’s for you. It belonged to Brianna Boatman.”

  Five minutes later, Melony and Danielle were in the library, with Walt watching silently from the sidelines. The cardboard box sat on the library desk.

  “Adam mentioned you were going through boxes from your father’s law firm. But I thought everything to do with my aunt’s estate was already removed from storage.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” Melony said as she removed the box’s lid. “I don’t really think you’re going to find anything significant in here—I mean nothing like information on secret bank accounts or property she owned. I already looked through it. It appears to be personal stuff. There are some photographs and a few letters from your aunt to Clarence. I just skimmed the letters, but they didn’t really say much. Not even sure why Clarence held onto this. I have to assume he got some of it after she died, like the photographs.”

  Danielle reached into the file box and pulled out a small white cardboard box with a flapping lid. She opened it. The box was empty save for a slip of paper. Closing the box, she took a second look and noticed AncestryDNA printed in green type across the lid.

  “Now that was the strangest thing in your aunt’s box. I almost tossed it out, but then I noticed the email address and what appears to be a password written on that piece of paper.” Melony took the box from Danielle and opened it. After removing the slip of paper, she handed it to Danielle to show her what she was talking about.

  Taking the paper in her hand, Danielle read the email address. She didn’t recognize it. But the second word could possibly be a password, as Melony suspected. It read Brianna1234.

  “Whenever I see an email address next to a word with numbers attached, I automatically think it’s for some Internet account,” Melony told her. “I could be wrong. But I do know what the box is.�
�� She handed it back to Danielle, who looked at it again.

  “What?”

  “It’s the box Ancestry.com sends you when you order one of their DNA tests. I know. My mother did one. She told me about it. After she died, I found it in her things. You see, they send you this little box with some kind of bottle that you spit in. Then you mail it back, and they run your DNA test.”

  “Sounds gross. But actually, I’ve considered doing one of these myself. Do you think my aunt had a DNA test done before she died?”

  Melony shrugged and then sat down on the desk chair. “If it wasn’t for the paper inside, I would assume it was just a box. Maybe someone in Clarence’s office had it sitting around and used it to store something in. But the fact it held a piece of paper with an email address and what appears to be a password—one using your aunt’s first name—I do wonder if it’s the password to your aunt’s Ancestry.com account.”

  “I don’t think these things have been around that long, have they?” Danielle asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My aunt’s been gone for almost a year and a half now. And before that she had Alzheimer’s. I can’t believe she’d be capable of ordering something like this online. Was the site even offering DNA tests back then?”

  “Well, all you can do is try logging into Ancestry.com using that email address and password. If you can’t log in, then maybe it’s just a cardboard box and someone’s random email address. All this is an educated guess on my part.”

  “You didn’t happen to ask Gloria Comings about the things in this box, did you?” Danielle asked.

  Gloria Comings had worked for Clarence Renton and had left the state after his arrest. Melony’s father, Doug Carmichael, had been Renton’s business partner. After Doug passed away, his widow, Jolene Carmichael, continued to own a share in the law practice. But now, both Jolene and Renton were dead—both murdered. Melony was now responsible for sorting through what remained in storage.

  “Gloria?” Melony scoffed. “She refuses to answer my calls anymore. The last time I spoke to her she was pretty short with me. Said she had no idea what Clarence had been up to and told me to stop calling her.”

  “According to Adam, Gloria was always pretty conservative. He never felt she knew what Renton had been doing.”

  “Like Adam, I went to school with Gloria. We ran in different crowds. But Adam is right, back then she was pretty uptight.” Melony giggled. “I was the wild child.”

  Danielle put the slip of paper back in its box and closed the lid. She returned it to the larger cardboard container. “I’m not sure what I will do with all this, but it will be interesting going through it, especially the photographs. Thanks for bringing it to me.”

  “No problem. I didn’t want to just toss it.”

  “So tell me, how did your mother’s DNA test work out? Did you find out you’re related to royalty?” Danielle teased.

  “You mean as opposed to having a great-grandfather responsible for massacring a boatload of innocent people?”

  Danielle cringed. “Oh, sorry, Mel, I wasn’t thinking.”

  Melony smiled and reached out, gently patting Danielle’s arm. “Oh, that’s okay. I figure we probably all have a monster in our family tree. Mine just happens to be someone my mother adored.”

  “Maybe that’s why your mother did the DNA test, to see if she could find something to offset her grandfather’s legacy.”

  “You may have a point. I know she had it done after all that happened. But I don’t think she lived to see the results. I remember her telling me about taking the test, and finding the empty box in her things after she died.”

  “That’s kind of sad, she took the test and you can’t see the results?”

  “Well, I can if I want, I just haven’t bothered.”

  “What do you mean?” Danielle asked.

  “It’s why I suspect that email and password is for an Ancestry.com account. That’s how it works. You log in to your account to get your results. Mom’s results are probably sitting there in her account, but I just haven’t looked yet. I will someday. But I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

  The doorbell rang. Danielle looked up at Melony. “That’s probably some of my guests arriving.”

  Melony stood up. “Well, I need to get going anyway. I came straight here when I got into town. I promised Adam I would stop by his office when I got in Frederickport, so if I hurry up, maybe I can get him to buy me lunch.”

  Fifteen

  Danielle woke up early on Wednesday morning to prepare breakfast. The previous evening, when chatting with her guests, she asked them how they felt about quiche. None of them objected to a breakfast of quiche and fresh fruit, so that was what she decided to prepare the next morning.

  After all the breakfast food was set on the dining room table, Danielle took a seat on one end of the table while Lily took a seat on the opposite end. On one side of the table sat the Hortons, and on the other side sat the Spicers.

  It was not unusual for Marlow House guests who arrived as strangers to strike up a friendship. Over Christmas, the guests had become family. Danielle suspected a friendship might develop between the two couples now staying under her roof, considering the fact they appeared to be about the same age, and if Danielle didn’t know better, she would wonder if the two women were sisters. Both were redheads, about the same height, and both had a prominent backside. Danielle glanced down the table at Lily, who was also a redhead. However, she did not have a prominent backside; her prominence was more along the bustline.

  “Did you make this from scratch?” Nola Horton asked as she took a second helping of quiche.

  Danielle smiled at Nola. “Yes. I hope you like it.”

  “I must,” Nola said with a laugh. “I’m having a second helping.”

  Danielle flashed her another smile and picked up her glass of juice. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  “It’s just delicious. But I’ve been wanting to ask you, are you a socialist?”

  Danielle almost choked on her juice. After surviving the drink, she paused and looked back to Nola. “Excuse me? What do you mean a socialist?”

  Nola shrugged. “I was just wondering since your blog talked about how you’ve given away so much of your inheritance, but you’re still running a B and B and making breakfast for your guests. I just wondered if it was some sort of political ideology of yours.” Nola took a bite of her quiche.

  “What blog are you talking about?” Danielle asked with a frown.

  “Your Mystery of Marlow House blog, of course,” Nola said after she swallowed her food.

  Danielle and Lily exchanged quick glances.

  “You’ve read that?” Danielle asked.

  “Of course, why do you think we wanted to stay here?”

  “Very clever marketing,” Albert Horton noted, raising his cup of coffee in salute to Danielle before taking a sip.

  “I agree. We read it too. Very interesting. I wondered if it was all true,” Jeannie Spicer said.

  Danielle set her juice glass on the table and picked up her napkin. She wiped off the corners of her mouth and then said, “Actually, it’s not my blog. In fact, I just recently became aware of it. I have no idea who’s behind it.”

  “So none of it’s true?” Jeannie asked.

  “What do you mean?” Danielle asked.

  “About being trapped in a house on Halloween and just escaping before it burned down. Or being falsely accused of murdering that man?” Jeannie asked.

  Lily spoke up. “I came across the blog the other day. I read through it. I don’t know who’s behind it, but the information posted is fairly accurate.”

  “Then you have a fan,” Blake Spicer said with a chortle. “Or a stalker.”

  Danielle cringed. “It is a little creepy.”

  “So back to my original question,” Nola said. “Are you a socialist?”

  “Nola,” Albert hissed under his breath, “it really isn’t any of your busine
ss.”

  Nola looked at her husband and frowned. “Why?”

  “I don’t mind answering the question if you don’t mind telling me why you would wonder if I’m a socialist,” Danielle asked.

  “Just the fact you don’t seem to like money,” Nola explained.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “You said that blog was accurate, and they talk about how you keep giving all your money away. I just wondered if you were a socialist. Maybe you find capitalists sinful?”

  Danielle chuckled. “Actually, I have a degree in marketing—and my late husband and I owned our own marketing agency. I’d have to say that tends to give me a capitalist bent. But I like to think of myself as a compassionate capitalist. And frankly, I didn’t do anything to earn my inheritances. And there is only so much money one person really needs. As for running Marlow House, I enjoy meeting new people, and I enjoy cooking.”

  “A woman’s place is in the kitchen,” Blake blurted.

  Danielle smiled at Blake. “Only if that’s where she wants to be.”

  “At least we won’t upset Ms. Boatman when we take her necklace,” Dave said in a whisper when he and Stephanie returned to their room after breakfast.

  “What are you talking about?” Stephanie stood by the dresser mirror and turned to the side, looking at the reflection of her body’s profile. Reaching back, she grabbed hold of the portion of her blue jeans covering her buttocks and repositioned it.

  “She just told us she doesn’t care about money. That there’s only so much she really needs. So she won’t be too upset when we relieve her of that necklace. We might even be doing her a favor.” He laughed.

  “The Missing Thorndike. You think it’s cursed?” Stephanie turned to face the mirror. Leaning forward, she looked at her reflection and began repairing her makeup.

  “Missing Thorndike?”

  “Yeah. I told you that’s what it’s called. I read about it online. The necklace you’re stealing.”

  “Keep your voice down,” he snapped.

  “Hey, you brought it up,” she reminded him, still fussing with her makeup.