The Ghost and the Doppelganger

by Anna J. McIntyre

  They both looked up the mountain and to the cliff.

  “Where do you think she went?” Stephanie asked.

  “I don’t know. But at the moment, I’m more concerned about the paintings.”

  Stephanie and Clint ran to the back of the van and looked inside. One of its rear doors had flown open during impact, but the crate was still inside.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s damaged,” Clint said.

  “What now?” Stephanie glanced around. She could hear the waves crashing on the beach.

  “The only thing we can do. We need to call Mac. He’s going to have to rent a vehicle and get his guys down here. This will delay us, but it’s not the end of the world.”

  Stephanie stepped away from the van and looked back up the mountainside. “But where is that woman? I didn’t hit her, did I?”

  “Even if you had, it wouldn’t have been your fault. I don’t know what she was doing, standing in the middle of the road like that, trying to get herself killed.”

  Still looking up the mountain, Stephanie shook her head. “She must have been trying to get us to help her.”

  “What, by getting us to run her down?” he asked angrily.

  “Clint, did you see her face? She looked just like Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Come on, Stephanie, pull yourself together; we need to get going.”

  Stephanie glared at Clint. “You aren’t the one who about killed someone!”

  “No one died! But she about killed us. So come on, we need to get going.”

  “Are you sure I didn’t hit her?”

  “Yes. I’m positive. Now come on, we need to get the cellphone and call Mac.”

  Stephanie let out a sigh and then reluctantly made her way back up to the front of the vehicle. When she reached the driver’s door, she leaned down and peered inside. To her horror, she came face-to-face—with herself.

  Just as she screeched, “Clint!” Clint leaned down and looked into the passenger window. He found himself looking into his own face, blood running down from a gash in his forehead. He appeared to be sleeping. And beyond the sleeping Clint in the vehicle was another Stephanie, this one battered and bloody, her head turned in an unnatural position and her vacant eyes open, staring blankly in his direction.

  “Oh crap,” Clint muttered. “This doesn’t look good.”

  Twenty-One

  Joanne had gone home after stripping the linens off the beds in the guest rooms and gathering up all the towels. She had started one load of laundry and then went to clean the guest rooms and baths. When she was done, there was another load of laundry to put in, but Danielle had told her to go ahead and go home and take the rest of the day off. Danielle said she would finish up the laundry. Joanne was happy to oblige, as it was spring break, and she had some family visiting her for a few days.

  Marie had taken off too. Eva had stopped by just after Clint and Stephanie had driven away. She told Marie there was something she needed to do and wondered if she would keep an eye on her portrait. While Marie wasn’t thrilled to still be on guard duty, she didn’t mind going to the museum and eavesdropping on some of the docents, like Millie and Ben—assuming either of them were on duty.

  Chris had arrived at Marlow House not long after Joanne went home and found Ian and Lily with Danielle and Walt in the library. After they brought Chris up to speed on what had gone on since the previous evening, they all sat in silence for a few moments while Chris processed all that he had just been told.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Chris finally said, looking at Danielle. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell the chief.”

  “She didn’t tell us either,” Lily grumbled. She sat with Ian on the sofa, while Danielle and Chris sat in the chairs across from them. Walt stood by the bookshelves, smoking a cigar.

  “Hey, guys, there was nothing you could do. And we had it under control,” Danielle insisted.

  Chris nodded over to the life-sized Marlow portraits. “What are you going to do about those?”

  “We were just discussing that,” Ian said.

  “And it’s not just the portraits here, we have to deal with the one at the museum. They need to be told what it’s worth,” Lily said.

  “When are you going to do that?” Chris asked.

  “That’s one of the things we were talking about,” Ian said.

  “I think the first priority is getting Eva’s portrait secure. Walt can keep an eye on his until we work it all out, but I’m worried that someone connected to Clint’s art heist—and we know there are more than seven people involved, considering the men who showed up while we were at the restaurant and the fact there has to be at least one buyer. It wouldn’t take long for someone curious to start doing a little online sleuthing and stumble across Eva’s portrait, considering so many of the online articles mention both Walt and Eva,” Danielle explained.

  “And if the buyer realizes those portraits are fake this afternoon, one of them might turn to the internet for answers. That seems to be what you people do these days,” Walt interjected. While Lily and Ian couldn’t hear what Walt had said, Danielle and Chris could.

  “What do you think we should do?” Chris asked Danielle.

  “I think Ian should go to the Historical Society today and tell them he’s been doing some research on the portraits. Reasonable, considering everyone in town knows Clint paid an artist to reproduce our paintings. Plus, Ian has already talked to Millie over there about the possibility of him doing another article on Eva. He can say he just came across the information on the artist. Let them know the painting might be worth a small fortune. It’s all basically true except for telling them he just stumbled on the information. Don’t let them know he’s known for almost two weeks.”

  “But how do we explain how Ian found the artist? We can’t very well say Angela gave us the artist’s name,” Lily said.

  “No. But Ian could have happened across the information the same way we believe Clint did. Maybe not that he attended the art show, but he can say he happened across the information on the art show when searching for artists of that era. And then he can say he noticed the similarity in style, looked at the signature, and realized it was the same one on the portraits here,” Danielle explained.

  Walt grinned and muttered, “That’s my girl. Always thinking.”

  “You still have to do something about the Marlow portraits. Even with Walt here, it’s not safe to keep something like that in your house,” Chris told them. “Remember, Ian told us a Bonnet went for over five million at auction. That means your paintings could conceivably be worth ten million. Maybe more, considering their size.”

  “I hate to say this, but I agree with Chris,” Walt begrudgingly admitted.

  “Why does this always happen to me?” Danielle groaned.

  Lily broke out into laughter. Everyone looked to her.

  When Lily regained her composure, she said, while wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, “What, you mean always falling into buckets of money? Your aunt’s inheritance, the Missing Thorndike, an unexpected inheritance from Cheryl, the gold coins, and now priceless art?” Lily began laughing again. Ian and Chris could not suppress their grins.

  Danielle scowled at Lily for just a moment and then broke into a smile. She chuckled and then said, “Dang, Adam is really going to hate me.”

  Police Chief MacDonald stood on the sidelines, hands on hips, surveying the carnage. The first responders had already removed the bodies, and now they were waiting for the tow truck to arrive.

  Brian Henderson and Joe Morelli, both in uniform and wearing their baseball-style hats embellished with the department insignia, approached the chief. In one of Brian’s hands was a small pad of paper, in the other a pen.

  Still looking at the upside-down van, MacDonald asked, “So what do we know?”

  Brian glanced at his open notepad. “The van doesn’t belong to Marlow. It’s a rental from a company in Portland. I’ve alr
eady called them. They didn’t have any information on Marlow aside from his credit card and driver’s license, which we have.”

  “Apparently they weren’t going back to California,” Joe told the chief. “There were one-way tickets to France in his fiancée’s purse. They were leaving from the Portland airport late this afternoon.”

  MacDonald frowned and glanced to Joe. “They were headed in the wrong direction if they were going to the airport.”

  Joe shrugged. “Maybe they took a wrong turn.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Brian grumbled.

  “There’s a huge crate in the back of the van. I assume it has the paintings in it,” Joe noted.

  MacDonald nodded and then asked, “You said one-way tickets?”

  “Yes,” Joe told him.

  “Interesting. They didn’t mention anything about a trip to France after leaving here,” the chief muttered.

  “You think Danielle knows who we might contact for the next of kin?” Joe asked.

  “Walt Marlow,” Brian said with a snort.

  MacDonald ignored Brian’s crack and said, “From what Danielle told me, he doesn’t have any family. No siblings, his parents are gone. I don’t know about his fiancée. But I’m going to stop by Marlow House before I go back to the station. I want to let Danielle know what happened and see if she might have any contact information for Clint and Stephanie.”

  Police Chief MacDonald stood on the front porch of Marlow House, waiting for someone to answer the door. Hat in hand, he turned his back to the house for a moment and looked out toward the street. Chris’s car was parked in front of his patrol car, but Joanne’s vehicle wasn’t anywhere in sight. He glanced up to the sky. The gray clouds that had been gathering earlier had disappeared, leaving behind a blue sky.

  “Chief!” Danielle greeted him when she opened the door.

  He turned around to face her, his hands fidgeting with his hat. Before he had time to respond, she reached out and grabbed him by the forearm, pulling him into the house. “Come, everyone is in the library.”

  “Everyone?” He watched as she closed the front door.

  “Walt’s in there, but Marie’s not. Come on!” Danielle said, turning her back to him and heading down the entry hall toward the library.

  “I need to talk to you,” he called out.

  “Come. We can talk in the library.” She continued on her way.

  With a sigh, MacDonald followed Danielle. He tossed his hat on the entry table as he passed it and continued on to the library.

  “Look who’s here!” Danielle said cheerfully. All eyes turned to the doorway leading to the entry hall. “It’s like he had ESP and knew we needed to talk to him.” Danielle went to a chair and sat down.

  Not smiling, the chief paused at the doorway and surveyed the room.

  “Clint and Stephanie left,” Lily said brightly.

  “Yes, that’s why I’m here.” MacDonald walked all the way into the room.

  Noting the police chief’s peculiar expression, Ian asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “There was a car accident,” he said solemnly. “Clint’s van went off the cliff at Pilgrim’s Point.”

  Collective gasps went around the room. Danielle stood up. “Was anyone hurt?”

  The chief nodded. “Stephanie didn’t make it. It looks like she died on impact.”

  “And Clint?” Danielle asked.

  “He’s in the hospital. I don’t know the extent of his injuries yet. He was unconscious when they took him out of the van and put him in the ambulance. I haven’t heard if he’s regained consciousness yet.”

  “Oh my,” Danielle muttered, sitting back down in the chair.

  “What happened?” Ian asked.

  “Stephanie was driving. By the tire marks on the highway, it looks as if she swerved to miss something on the road, an animal perhaps, and then lost control of the vehicle,” the chief explained.

  “That’s where Darlene haunts,” Danielle blurted. All eyes turned to her.

  “You think Darlene had something to do with this?” Lily asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “The only time her spirit’s ever done something malicious was when she went after her killer. Yet other times, well, I know she’s saved a few lives.”

  “I was hoping you’d have some information on who we might contact for either Clint or Stephanie,” the chief said.

  Danielle motioned to the desk chair for the chief to sit down and then said, “She never talked about her life. In fact, I didn’t talk to either of them much. But I think you should know something.” Danielle then went on to tell the chief about how the paintings had been switched.

  After Danielle finished her telling, MacDonald let out a sigh and said, “I guess that explains the tickets to France.”

  “France?” Lily and Danielle chorused.

  MacDonald nodded. “There were plane tickets in Stephanie’s purse, for her and Clint. One-way tickets leaving late this afternoon for Paris.”

  “So they weren’t planning to return to California?” Danielle asked.

  “They must have been on their way to meet with the buyers before going to the airport,” Ian suggested. “Because if they were headed to Portland, they were going the wrong way if they ended up at Pilgrim’s Point.”

  The chief nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

  “That means Macbeth and the buyers are somewhere waiting for Clint to deliver the paintings,” Lily said.

  The chief groaned. “It also means that they believe the contents of the crate are worth a fortune, and once they find out what happened, they’re probably going to be coming for it.”

  Walt flicked his cigar into the air. Before it vanished, he said, “My cousin better have a speedy recovery. I don’t need him coming back here.”

  Twenty-Two

  Danielle stood with the police chief at the front desk of the intensive care unit. Since she was not a relative of Clint’s, she would never have made it past the door into the ICU without the chief’s help.

  “This is Danielle Boatman,” the chief introduced her to the nurse. He knew most of the ICU and ER staff at the local hospital.

  “Yes, I know who she is.” The nurse smiled.

  “Clint Marlow and his fiancée were staying with Danielle before the accident happened,” he explained.

  “I’m so sorry about the fiancée. So tragic, such a young woman.”

  “How is Clint doing?” Danielle asked.

  “Technically, since you’re not a family member, you really shouldn’t be back here.” The nurse smiled sheepishly.

  “Clint doesn’t have any family,” Danielle explained. “His father died a few years ago, and his mother died when he was a child. He doesn’t have any siblings. I guess I’m as close to family as he has.”

  The nurse arched her brow. “How is that?”

  “You did mention you know who I am. I inherited the Marlow estate, through my aunt. And Clint and I have been in communication for some time. That’s why he was here, to visit me. We consider ourselves family, since neither of us have any living relatives,” Danielle embellished.

  “Oh…I can see how that would draw you close…” the nurse conceded.

  “Can you tell me how he’s doing?” MacDonald interrupted.

  The nurse focused her attention back on the chief and smiled. She gave him a nod and said, “Of course, Chief. He still hasn’t woken up, yet his vitals are good, and there doesn’t seem to be any internal damage. He did break a leg and got a nasty cut on his forehead. But aside from that, physically he seems to be okay.”

  “But he hasn’t woken up?” he asked.

  The nurse shook her head. “No.”

  “Do they know why?”

  “No. But the doctor has ordered some more tests.”

  “Do you think I could see him?” Danielle asked.

  The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. Even if you were his sister, I couldn’t let you in there right now. Like I said, the do
ctor ordered some more tests for him, and I know they’re coming to get him in a few minutes. Anyway, it’s not like he’ll even know you’re there, since he’s still unconscious.”

  “Do you know when someone can see him?” Danielle asked. “I understand he won’t know I’m there, but I’d still like to.”

  The nurse stared at Danielle for a moment before answering. Finally, she said, “It will be about an hour, but then, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to let you see him.” She smiled apologetically.

  “But I told you I’m as close to family as he has,” Danielle insisted.

  “I really am sorry. But those are the rules.” The nurse then paused a moment and glanced around. She leaned toward Danielle and whispered, “My shift ends in two hours. You can tell Mr. Marlow’s sister that he will probably be back from his tests by then. When she comes in, she needs to just tell the nurse on duty that she’s his sister.” The nurse smiled. “You can tell his sister that for me.”

  “Did she just tell me to lie to the next nurse on duty?” Danielle asked the chief after they left the ICU and started down the hall toward the elevator.

  “Which should be easy for you to do, considering all that BS you gave her in there about how you and Clint are practically family.” The chief chuckled.

  Danielle shrugged. “It was just a little embellishment.”

  “Embellishment?” he said with a snort. “I’m getting concerned when you can’t objectively tell your lies from the truth.”

  “Okay, okay. It was a freaking lie.” She stepped into the empty elevator with the chief. The door closed.

  “I know you wanted to come with me to see how he was doing, but why are you so determined to see him?” He pushed the button for the first floor. “The man is unconscious.”

  The elevator started moving downward.

  “Because he’s been unconscious for a few hours, and according to the nurse, there doesn’t seem to be a physical reason for it.”

  The elevator door opened. Just as Danielle and the chief stepped out onto the first floor, a nurse stepped into the elevator. The door closed. Danielle and the chief headed toward the exit leading to the hospital’s front parking lot.