The Ghost and the Doppelganger
Bobbi Holmes
Copyright
The Ghost and the Doppelganger
(Haunting Danielle, Book 16)
A Novel
By Bobbi Holmes
Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey
* * *
Copyright © 2018 Bobbi Holmes
Robeth Publishing, LLC
All Rights Reserved.
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This novel is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to places or actual persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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www.robeth.net
Dedication
To the fans of Haunting Danielle.
Without them this book would not have been written.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
The Ghost of Second Chances
Haunting Danielle Newsletter
Haunting Danielle Series
Bobbi Holmes
Unlocked Hearts Series
The Coulson Series
Also by Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes
One
Flames hovered over the rock surface like slender golden fingers waving erratically in the night air. Beneath the fire, the faux stone structure concealed its propane tank. Heat and ambiance generated by the fire pit made the balcony both a romantic and cozy setting. Beyond the balcony’s short stucco wall, city lights illuminated March’s moonless night. They randomly twinkled while headlights from the traffic provided motion to the evening landscape.
Sitting side by side in patio rockers, the woman propped her stockinged feet up on the footstool separating her from the fire pit, while the man next to her refilled both of their wineglasses. Casually dressed, she wore a long royal blue cashmere sweater over a pair of black leggings, and he wore denim jeans and a long-sleeved burgundy golf shirt. It was chilly enough to need long sleeves, yet not quite cold enough—with the fire pit and night air—to need a jacket. Yet, if the temperature dipped a few more degrees, Stephanie Mountifield might be tempted to go inside and retrieve a throw to toss over her lap. She had left her shoes inside, while he rarely went around in just stockinged feet. When removing his shoes earlier, he had put on a pair of slippers.
When he finished pouring the wine, Stephanie took a sip and said, “Just one more week, Clint. Then we’re out of here. Paris. I can’t believe we’re going to Paris and then Greece!”
“First, we go to Oregon,” Clint Marlow reminded her.
Stephanie shrugged. “You know what I mean.” She glanced around Clint’s condominium balcony. Unlike some of the other balconies in the complex, there was no barbecue. Clint preferred eating out, and so did she. The patio furniture was less than six months old, and they wouldn’t be taking it with them. He was selling the condo furnished. Had he known six months ago what he was going to do, he probably wouldn’t have bought the new furniture. However, Stephanie knew he didn’t regret the purchase. He had told her the condo would sell quicker if it was attractively staged, and the balcony was inviting, especially with its current furniture. He had been right. Within a week of listing the property, he had received multiple offers.
The sound of the evening traffic was partially dulled by the water feature plugged into the patio’s corner. A stream of water spilled from one ceramic vase to another before recycling back to the top of the fountain and sent on the same journey, again and again. Like the fire pit, the fountain provided ambiance. Both the fire pit and fountain would be staying with the condo’s new owners.
With a sigh, Stephanie asked, “Are you going to miss it here?”
“What’s to miss? Irritating clients? Incompetent agents?” Swirling the wine in his glass a moment, Clint paused and studied Stephanie. “What about you, are you going to miss it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. All I’ve ever wanted to do is travel. But…I do worry, what if it doesn’t work out in Oregon?”
Clint drank some of his wine and then leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the rocker’s arms. “This is going to work. I’ll make it work.”
“And when we get to Paris, is it possible she might come after us there?” Leaning back in the rocker, the wineglass in her right hand, Stephanie absently held out her left hand, studying the engagement ring. Wiggling her fingers slightly, she enjoyed the twinkling of the generous diamond while listening to what Clint was saying.
“The art of a con is never letting your mark know they’ve been taken. She won’t have a clue.”
Dropping her left hand back onto her lap, she turned to Clint. “I don’t like it when you say it like that—it makes you sound like some sort of thief or something.”
Clint laughed. “What do you think we’re doing?”
“I don’t look at it as stealing, exactly. After all, Danielle Boatman doesn’t have the right to any of it. She wasn’t related to Walt Marlow. You are. She’s nothing more than the niece of the housekeeper’s illegitimate daughter. And not even a blood niece!”
“And I will be putting some of that to right, won’t I?” Clint flashed Stephanie a smile and then finished what was left in his wineglass.
“I’d love to see that necklace I read about. That should be yours too!”
Clint leaned forward and set his empty wineglass on the side table between the two rockers. “Don’t get crazy, babe. I’ve no desire to go to prison, and neither do you. I have a feeling she’d miss the necklace if we took it.”
Stephanie let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair. “I suppose…but still…it is a shame.”
“Babe, when we’re done, I’ll buy you your own diamond and emerald necklace.” He reached over and patted her knee.
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d do anything for you.” His gaze moved over the blonde, admiring her thickly lashed blue eyes, petite turned-up nose, and the most kissable mouth he had ever seen. The rest of her was even better, he thought with a groan.
Smiling, Stephanie stopped rocking for a moment and leaned toward Clint, giving him a brief kiss on his cheek. She then leaned back in her chair and started rocking again.
“Everything is falling into place. The day after escrow closes, we’ll be on the plane to Portland.” Clint picked up the wine bottle and refilled his glass.
“And after Portland, a Paris wedding.” Stephanie sighed.
“It will be perfect.”
“I talked to my father today.” Stephanie held out her glass for Clint to fill.
“And?” He refilled her wine.
“I told him we’re going to be doing some traveling. I didn’t give him any specifics.”
“He doesn’t ask that anymore. Although he did ask if we set a date for the wedding yet.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d let him know when we get married. Kind of like he did when he married that woman.”
“Ouch.” Clint cringed.
Stephanie shrugged. “It’s true.”
“Well, we’re going on an amazing adventure.” Clint raised his wineglass in toast. “Here’s to my dear cousin, Walt Marlow, who’s making all our dreams come true!”
Danielle Boatman sat alone at the Pearl Cove bar, waiting for her friends to arrive. It was girls’ night out. To be precise, it was their first girls’ night. Not the bar’s, but Danielle’s and her friends’. It had been Heather Donovan’s idea. Danielle suspected Heather’s inspiration came from the fact she didn’t have a boyfriend. Neither did Danielle, yet when their informal group went out together, she and Chris always seemed to be a pair—a platonic pair.
Lily was now married, and Melony and Adam were a couple like her and Chris, yet she suspected they weren’t exactly platonic. And if Marie had her way, the two would stop avoiding commitment and admit they were boyfriend and girlfriend.
But tonight, it was just the girls: Danielle, Lily, Melony, and Heather. Adam was hosting a poker party at his house. Walt was home alone, reading a book Danielle had checked out for him from the local library, and Marie was off gallivanting with Eva. Gallivanting was Marie’s word, not Danielle’s.
Danielle sipped her Chardonnay and glanced at her watch, checking the time. Her friends weren’t late, she was early. Just as she set her wineglass on the oak bar top, motion to her right caught her attention. Someone was sitting down next to her at the bar. Glancing over to the newcomer, she expected to see one of her friends. After all, until that moment, she was the only one sitting at the bar, why would anyone else choose to sit right next to her when there were at least a dozen empty barstools? But then she had her answer. It was a young man—one she had never seen before—grinning at her as he rested his elbows on the bar top.
Danielle flashed him a weak smile and picked up her wine, taking a sip. Friendly conversation she could deal with, but if he intended to hit on her, that she could do without.
The stranger started the conversation with, “You have really nice hair.”
Before Danielle could give a polite thank-you, he added, “I bet you could really fix it nice if you wanted to.”
Startled by his comment, Danielle frowned. “Excuse me?”
Before the man could explain, the bartender walked up and asked what he would like to drink. After the stranger ordered a beer and the bartender walked away, he looked back to Danielle and said with a shrug, “I guess a braid is easy. You know, gets you out of the house with minimal effort. But I bet if you spent a little more time on your hair,” the man paused a moment, eyed Danielle critically and then added, “maybe experiment a little with some makeup, you could be kind of hot.”
“Umm…thanks…I think.” Danielle glanced at her watch again and then looked to the doorway leading to the entry.
“Stood up?” he asked.
“What?”
“Ah, come on, it happens to all of us one time or another. I saw you checking out your watch when I sat down, and you just did it again, and your eyes keep looking to the doorway. I hate to see a girl like you get embarrassed when the guy stands her up. It’s not right.”
“Girl like me?”
“You’re cute—in your own way. You have potential there, but some guys just never see it. But don’t worry, if he doesn’t show up, I’ll let the bartender think I was the one you were waiting for so you don’t get embarrassed.”
Furrowing her brows, Danielle studied the man a moment. He wasn’t unattractive. If he had never opened his mouth, she might have described him as pleasant looking. She guessed he was about ten years older than herself, considering his thinning brown hair.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” he whispered.
“Do what?” Danielle asked.
“Wrinkle your forehead like that. You’ll get more wrinkles.”
More wrinkles? she thought.
To her relief she spied Lily and Heather entering the restaurant, with Melony close behind them.
Snatching up her drink from the bar, Danielle stood up. “My friends are here. Have a nice evening.” Without another word, she turned from the stranger and hurried away.
“I thought we were going to have a drink in the bar first,” Heather grumbled when the four were seated in the dining room.
“I’m sorry, but I met the most obnoxious man in the bar,” Danielle explained as she took a seat at the table. “I just wanted to get away from him.”
“Someone was hitting on you?” Lily asked as she sat down.
“Not exactly. I thought he was going to, but he ended up insulting me.” Danielle shrugged and then picked up a menu.
After the server took their drink order and left the table, Lily asked, “What do you mean he insulted you?”
“I guess he doesn’t like braids,” Danielle began. She went on and recounted her entire conversation with the stranger.
After Danielle finished her telling, Heather said, “Ahh, the guy was negging you.”
“Nagging me?” Danielle asked. “Why do you say that?”
“No, negging,” Lily corrected. She looked to Heather and nodded. “Definitely, he was negging her.”
“What in the world is negging?” Danielle asked, looking from Lily to Heather and then to Melony, who only shrugged.
“Negging is new to me,” Melony said as she picked up her glass of iced water and took a sip.
“It’s a pickup technique some guys use,” Heather explained.
“Pickup technique?” Danielle choked out. “You can’t be serious?”
“On the plus side, it means the guy thinks you’re out of his league,” Lily said with a grin.
Danielle shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s a lame strategy some loser concocted to hit on girls. Guys supposedly use it on hot girls in an attempt to undermine their self-confidence, the theory being women will do anything to get the guy’s approval after he’s made her feel insecure,” Heather explained.
“Well, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Danielle looked to Lily. “How is it you knew about this negging and I didn’t?”
“I suspect because you were married to Lucas and not really out where guys were hitting on you. Whereas I was single for all that time. And the two guys you did date after Lucas aren’t the negging type. I certainly don’t see Joe doing something like that; he’d see it as dishonorable. And Chris, well, guys like Chris don’t need to stoop to negging.”
“I guess that explains why I’ve never heard of it before now. I haven’t really been out to bars alone since my divorce. Yet now I’m curious.” Melony stood up.
“Where are you going?” Heather asked.
“I’ve got to see what this guy looks like,” Melony said with a laugh.
“I have to admit his comment about my braid got to me,” Danielle said after Melony left the table and headed to the bar. “I’ve been considering cutting my hair. Trying a new hairstyle.”
“Danielle, I can’t believe you’d be a pushover for a negging guy!” Heather gasped.
Danielle scrunched up her nose. “Eww, don’t be gross! The guy was a jerk. I just meant I’ve been thinking of cutting my hair, and when he opened with that comment about my braid, it got me to thinking about it again.”
“Just as long as you aren’t considering cutting your hair because some jerk at the bar made a derogatory remark about it,” Lily said.
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly.”
“I know that guy!” Melony gushed when she hurried back to the table and took her seat. Just as she did, the server arrived with their cocktails.
When
the server left the table, Danielle asked, “The annoying guy in the bar?”
Melony nodded as she picked up her cocktail and took a sip. She set the drink back on the table and said, “I went to school with him. I heard he moved back to town. He used to be a good friend of Adam’s.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Danielle said with a chuckle.
Two
The next morning Walt found Danielle sitting at her vanity, staring into the mirror, her fingers absently fidgeting with the ends of her long dark hair. She had already dressed for the day, wearing navy blue leggings and a casual dress, her feet bare. So focused on whatever was on her mind, she failed to notice Walt had entered the room and now stood directly behind her. Since he had no reflection, she couldn’t see him in the mirror.
Walt stood there a moment watching, and when Danielle continued to twist the ends of her hair while staring at her reflection, he finally asked, “Can’t decide to wear it in a braid or down?”
With a gasp, Danielle jerked around in the chair to face Walt. “I didn’t hear you come in!”
Walt smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. But you seemed so intent. What were you thinking?”
Releasing hold of her hair, Danielle moved her chair around and fully faced Walt. Folding her hands on her lap, she looked up at him and asked, “I have a question to ask you.”
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