by Bobbi Holmes
“We really don’t have a choice, do we?” he asked with a heavy sigh.
“Unfortunately, we don’t.”
“I suppose I can deal with Boatman and Morelli being collateral damage, but it has to stop there.”
“Don’t worry. This won’t work if anyone else at Marlow House gets hurt. It will just be Boatman and Morelli.”
“Then you better make sure everyone is out of the house before it’s done.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure there aren’t any witnesses like there was the last time.”
A few minutes later, the call ended. Tossing the cellphone in the seat with the camera, he closed his eyes and leaned back. Sitting quietly in the car, his hands holding onto the steering wheel, he asked himself how everything had spun so wildly out of control. Yet, it was too late to turn back now. The only way to salvage his life—all of their lives—was to give the authorities Stoddard’s killer. Once they had that, no one would be looking into Stoddard’s life—or the lives of those around him.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and put the key into the ignition. Hopefully this will all be over soon, he thought.
Chapter Eighteen
Danielle found Lily staring into the hall mirror on Monday morning. The petite redhead was already dressed for her lunch date with Ian. She wore a green cotton dress her mother had purchased for her when replacing her wardrobe.
“I hate my hair,” Lily announced when she heard Danielle walk into the hallway. She continued to stare at her reflection.
“I think you look cute with short hair. Shows off your green eyes.” Danielle stepped up to the mirror and looked at Lily’s reflection.
“Makes me look like a boy,” Lily grumbled.
“You don’t look like a boy.” Danielle wasn’t saying it just to make Lily feel better. With Lily’s delicate features and natural rusty curls, there was no way anyone would mistake her for a boy, despite the shortness of the cut.
“I wish there was someway I could punch Stoddard’s ghost in the face.” Lily glanced to the front door. “Is he still hanging around?”
“Unfortunately, yes. He seems to spend most of his time hovering outside my bedroom window.”
“Pervert. How can you even sleep knowing he’s out there?” Lily fussed with her hair, fluffing up her short curls as she stared into the mirror, Danielle still by her side.
“I keep the curtains shut and try to ignore him.” Danielle shrugged. “I’m not sure what else to do until I can figure out someway to convince him it wasn’t me. Hopefully the police will catch the real killer—or killers—and then he’ll believe me and move on.”
Danielle studied Lily’s reflection for a moment and then said, “At least you have a clear reflection.”
“There is that,” Lily sighed. “A misty reflection is better that no reflection—but a clear reflection is way better than a misty one.”
“Are you telling Lily to count her blessings?” Walt asked when he appeared in the hallway.
“Walt’s here, Lily,” Danielle said.
“Good morning Walt,” Lily chirped, sounding more cheerful than she had been when Danielle first joined her by the mirror. “Thanks for teaching me how to play cribbage.”
Danielle glanced from Lily to Walt. “Cribbage?”
“Lily was a little restless last night, so I did a—”
“Walt visited me in my dream last night.”
Raising her brows Danielle asked, “And you played cribbage?”
“Just one game,” Lily said. “I’d never played before. It was fun. I should get a cribbage board and teach Ian.”
“Ask Lily when she’s leaving for her lunch date with Ian.”
“Walt wants to know when you’re going on your lunch date.”
“He’s picking me up after I finish my afternoon IV treatment.”
“Will he be leaving Sadie here?” Walt asked.
“Walt wants to know if Sadie will be staying here.”
“No.” Lily turned from the mirror and faced Danielle. “He made an appointment to have her groomed. We’re dropping her off at the groomers on our way out of town.”
“I don’t imagine Sadie will be thrilled with that.” Walt chuckled.
“Hey, did you know Samantha has a date with Will this afternoon?” Lily asked.
“Samantha?” Danielle frowned.
“My nurse—the afternoon and evening one,” Lily explained.
“What do you mean a date? Isn’t she young enough to be his daughter?” Danielle asked.
“Men often find that the ideal age. More trainable,” Walt teased.
Danielle flashed Walt a dirty look then turned her attention back to Lily.
“Some men find that the perfect age. Easier for them to train,” Lily said. Walt began to laugh.
“Oh hush,” Danielle told Walt, as she tried not to smile.
“What did I miss?” Lily asked.
“Oh nothing…other than the fact you and Walt may be spending too much time together.”
“What do you mean? I can’t even see or hear him!”
“At least not when you’re awake,” Danielle reminded. “So tell me, how did this date come about?”
“I’m not sure. But last night after my IV treatment, I went to the kitchen to get something to drink and Samantha was still here. She was sitting at the table with Will, having a glass of wine.”
“When was that, about midnight?” Danielle asked.
“At least. I thought it was odd. But I feel a little bad about her having to come over here so late each night, so I didn’t say anything. And I got the impression Will asked her to join him for a glass of wine. It didn’t look like your wine, but something he picked up.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that. Just seems like an unlikely pair. So they told you they were going on a date?”
“No. After I got my water, I just left them in the kitchen together. This morning when I saw Will, he told me Samantha was taking him sightseeing this afternoon, after my IV treatment.”
“Sightseeing?” Danielle frowned. “Will used to live in Frederickport. Can’t imagine he needs someone to take him sightseeing.”
Walt laughed.
“I don’t imagine Will really cares about seeing the sights—at least not of the town,” Lily said.
“I suppose you’re right,” Danielle muttered, looking from Walt to Lily.
“Looks like this afternoon, it’s just me and you kid,” Walt told Danielle with a grin.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Walt found Danielle in the parlor dialing a number on the landline.
“Who are you calling?” Walt took a seat on the small sofa, cigar in hand.
“Myself.” Danielle glanced around the room, holding the landline’s receiver in one hand.
“Yourself?” Walt frowned.
“Dang. It isn’t in here.” Danielle hung up the phone and looked at Walt. “Have you seen my cellphone?”
“Did you check the charger in the kitchen?” Walt asked.
“Yes. But it’s not there. I must have taken it off the charger without thinking about it. I hate when I do that!” Danielle stomped a foot in frustration.
“I’ll help you look for it.” Walt stood up.
“Let me try calling it again. Just listen for the ringer.”
* * *
Joe Morelli sat alone in his office eating a pastrami sandwich, while reviewing the files on the Gusarov case, when his cellphone began to ring. Picking up the phone from his desk, he looked to see who was calling: Danielle Boatman.
Setting his sandwich on a napkin, he answered the call. “Dani, hello.”
“Joe, are you alone?”
“Alone? Yeah, I’m in my office. What’s wrong? Why are you whispering?”
“Is your door closed? I don’t want anyone to hear you talking to me. You’re the only one I trust.”
“Is someone there?” Joe asked.
“No. I’m alone. I’m okay for now
. But I need to talk to you—can anyone hear you?”
“No. My office door’s shut. What’s wrong?”
“Can you come over to Marlow House right now? Alone. But you can’t tell anyone. I don’t trust anyone.”
“Are you in danger?”
“I’m safe right now—but I won’t be for long if you don’t help me. I’ll explain everything when you get here. But please, I beg you, come alone, and don’t tell anyone you’re coming over here. Someone at the police department is part of this.”
“Are you saying someone I work with was involved in Stoddard’s murder?”
“Please Joe. Come over here now. I’ll explain everything when you get here. But hurry.”
“Okay, Dani. Calm down. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you Joe. I knew I could count on you.”
* * *
“Did you find it?” Danielle asked Walt when he returned from the second floor.
“No. I take it you didn’t either.”
“Maybe I forgot to charge it—but I could have sworn I put it on the charger this morning. Yet, that would explain why it isn’t ringing.”
“Maybe Lily grabbed it by mistake,” Walt suggested.
“I can’t believe she’d do that. Her phone’s cover is a different color than mine.”
“She was also excited to get out of the house. Maybe she grabbed it without thinking,” Walt suggested.
“I suppose it’s possible…hey…I know, I bet it’s in the attic!”
“The attic?” Walt frowned.
“Yeah. I was in the kitchen this morning, straightening things up after breakfast and came across that box with the extra linens that I shoved in the pantry. I’ve been meaning to take them up to the attic but kept forgetting. I bet I grabbed my phone without thinking and stuck it in the box when I was taking the linens up to the attic. I bet anything my cellphone is in that box.”
Danielle started to head up the stairs when the doorbell rang.
“You answer that. I’ll go up to the attic and see if I can find your cellphone.”
“Thanks Walt. And if it’s not in the box, look around the attic. I put the linens in the cherry wood cabinet up there, and who knows where I might have dropped my phone. Dang, I hate when I do stuff like that!”
Danielle was surprised to find Joe Morelli standing on her front porch when she answered the door a few moments later. She wasn’t particularly surprised to find Stoddard standing next to him, shouting angry threats in her direction. Not wanting to listen to Stoddard, she hurriedly ushered Joe into the house without asking why he was there. She was in no mood to listen to another one of Stoddard’s tantrums.
“What can I do for you, Joe?” Danielle asked when she shut the front door, leaving Stoddard on the porch.
“What can I do for you?” Joe frowned. “You’re the one who wanted to see me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Joe asked angrily.
“Joke?” Danielle frowned.
“Danielle, you called me up not fifteen minutes ago, demanding I come right over here—that you had something you had to tell me. Made it sound like life or death.”
“I’m sorry Joe, it wasn’t me. Someone’s punking you”
“I know it was you. It was your cellphone.”
“My cellphone? What do you mean?”
“Caller ID. The call came from your cellphone,” Joe explained.
“Wait a minute—you said this was fifteen minutes ago?”
“Fifteen, maybe less. I came right over.”
“Joe, I’ve been looking for my cellphone all morning,” Danielle explained. “I can’t find it. That call didn’t come from me.”
Before Joe could respond, the front door flew open. Danielle and Joe turned around simultaneously and found themselves face to face with a man neither had ever seen before—a man pointing a .38 in their direction.
With chilling calm, the man shut the door behind him, locked it and said, “Put your hands up, above your head, and don’t do anything stupid.” Without hesitation, Joe and Danielle raised their hands into the air.
The man pointed his gun at Danielle and told Joe, “I want you to—very slowly—with your left hand, remove your gun and slide it on the floor to me. If you do anything stupid, she gets it straight between her eyes. And trust me, I won’t miss, and I won’t hesitate to shoot her.”
“What’s this about?” Danielle asked, silently wondering what was taking Walt so long.
The man leaned down, his gun still pointed at Danielle, and picked up the firearm Joe had just slid across the wood floor in his direction.
“I’ll explain everything. Just don’t do anything stupid and you’ll both be able to walk out of here in one piece.” He checked Joe’s gun, and then tucked his own firearm in his belt and pointed Joe’s gun at Danielle and Joe. “Right now, I want you two to keep your hands up in the air, and very slowly walk toward the library.” He nodded down the hall. “I believe it is in that direction.”
Chapter Nineteen
As they made their way down the hall toward the library, Joe started to say something, but the man immediately shut him up, telling him if he said another word—asked a single question—he would put a bullet through Danielle’s head. Silently, the three entered the library.
The intruder pulled a piece of rope from his pocket and tossed it toward Joe. “I want you to tie her hands behind her back. Do a good job or—”
“You’ll put a bullet through my head,” Danielle finished for him.
The man looked at her and laughed. “Smart girl. Now sit your butt down on that chair and put your hands behind your back so your cop friend can do a good job.”
Obediently, Danielle sat on the chair and put her hands behind her back, making it easier for Joe to tie her hands together—and then to the back of the chair—as per their kidnapper’s instructions. As Joe silently tied her hands, Danielle kept glancing to the doorway, looking for Walt. She was tempted to call out his name, but was afraid the man with the gun might then make good his threat and put the bullet through her head.
When Joe was finished tying Danielle’s hands to the chair, the man ordered him to sit on the floor a few feet away.
After Joe sat down, the man said, “Put your hands on your head.” Joe complied. The man walked over to Danielle and checked the ties.
“Good job,” he told Joe. “Ropes are all nice and snug. Will keep her out of my way while I finish what I came here for.”
“What did you come here for?” Danielle asked.
The man pointed the gun at Joe. “To begin with, kill your friend here.”
“Wait a minute!” Danielle cried out. “You said if we did what you told us to, we’d both get out of here alive.”
“I lied.” The man laughed.
“You don’t have to do this,” Joe said from his place on the floor.
“Sure I do,” the man said cheerfully, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Of course, no one will know I killed you—both—” The man laughed again.
“The least you can do,” Danielle said, desperate to stall him until Walt showed up, “Tell us why you’re doing this.”
“Technically speaking I’m not doing this. You are,” he told Danielle.
“Me?” Danielle frowned.
The man pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it on the floor in front of Danielle. She glanced down. It was her cellphone.
“You see, this poor chump…” He pointed the gun at Joe. “…He was so crazy over you that he lied about seeing you when you killed Gusarov. Gave you an alibi. But being the basically honest and upstanding guy he is, you were starting to worry that he might recant his story, so you called him up, begged him to come over here so you two could talk.”
“How did you get my phone?” Danielle asked numbly.
“Does it really matter?” the man laughed. “Do you want to hear the rest of the story, or should I just finish up so I ca
n get out of here?”
“You aren’t going to get away with this,” Joe said.
Danielle glanced over to Joe, who looked as if he was preparing to do something stupid—like make a sudden jump for the armed man, which could get them both killed. The way Joe was sitting on the ground, there was no way he could stand up and successfully disarm the intruder. They needed to wait for Walt. Where was Walt?
“I want to know why you intend to kill us. Tell us the rest of the story,” Danielle said calmly. “But what I’d really like to know—who killed Stoddard?”
“Who killed Stoddard? I really don’t know, or care.” The man laughed. “But I can tell you the rest of the story. Now, where was I? Oh, I know. When your cop friend shows up you realize you’re losing your alibi. He lets his guard down, you get upset, and you managed to shoot the poor schmuck with his own gun. Then you panic and run up the stairs, and tragically fall down the stairs—break your neck.”
“What happened to originality?” Walt asked with disgust when he appeared to Danielle the next moment. “First, my brother-in-law gets the bright idea to toss me down a flight of stairs—which didn’t work out too well, for me or him. And Renton decides to toss you down the stairs—which didn’t work out too well for Renton. Now this guy, he wants to pick up where Renton left off.” Walt paused a moment and looked at Danielle. “Who is this guy, anyway?”
“I have no idea,” Danielle said.
“You have no idea about what?” The man with the gun asked.
“Walt wanted to know who you were. I told him I had no idea,” Danielle said with a smile.
“Who’s Walt? You trying to make me think you’re crazy or something? Because I don’t really care if you have a roomful of imaginary friends.” He stood up, no longer leaning against the desk. “Time to get this wrapped up. Enough chit chat.”
Turning to Joe, preparing to take aim, the man was startled when the gun in his hand flew from his grasp and sailed across the library, landing on the top bookshelf. Before he could react, the second gun, the one tucked in his belt, flew across the room, joining Joe’s firearm.
