The Ghost and the Muse (Haunting Danielle Book 10)

by Bobbi Holmes

  Joanne looked at the check. “This is generous of you, but you don’t need to do this.”

  Danielle shook her head. “No. I really appreciate all you do around here. I can’t expect you to take a cut in pay just because we’re closed down a while.”

  Joanne tucked the check in her apron pocket. She smiled at Danielle. “I can come in every day, make meals for you and Lily. Do your laundry, keep things picked up.”

  Danielle laughed. “No. Don’t be silly. You take this time and go do something fun. Lily and I will be fine.”

  “You really need to take lessons on how to be a wealthy woman of leisure,” Walt told her after Joanne said goodbye and left the library.

  Danielle turned around to face Walt; she hadn’t realized he was in the room. Before responding, she stepped to the doorway and peeked out into the hallway. Joanne was just leaving out the front door.

  Turning back to Walt, she asked, “How long were you standing there?”

  “Long enough to see you give Joanne her check. That was generous of you.”

  Danielle took a seat at the desk. “I think you only get points for generosity if you can’t afford to give and still do.”

  “Are you saying that because it’s no real sacrifice for you—you’ll never notice the money you just gave Joanne because you have so much of it—that you don’t deserve praise?”

  Danielle shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  Walt laughed and then pointed to Angela’s portrait. “Danielle, if my dear wife Angela was in the same situation, she would have insisted Joanne earn every penny, even if it meant polishing already spotless silver.”

  Before Danielle had time to respond, the doorbell rang. Standing up, she looked at Walt and said, “I suppose I should have made Joanne stay. Must I really be forced to answer my own door? I need a butler!” Danielle let out a dramatic sigh and then headed for the door.

  Chuckling, Walt followed her down the hall.

  Baron Huxley stood on the front porch of Marlow House. He had noticed a car drive off just as he had pulled up in front of the house a few minutes earlier, but he didn’t think Danielle Boatman was its driver. Glancing down, he brushed a minute piece of lint off his tan slacks with one hand while the other hand held a bottle of wine. While looking down, he noticed his shoes—real Italian leather. He’d had them polished just last week and he was happy to see they still looked perfect.

  He had considered calling first, but he didn’t want to give her an opportunity to make an excuse to postpone the visit. As it was, she had already suggested he wait until some work was completed on the house. But since he didn’t see any construction workers or trucks in the area, he could easily pretend to have forgotten what she had said.

  Looking at his reflection in the window, he admired the view. He might be a good twenty years older than the lovely Ms. Boatman, but he was fully aware of the fact many women her age found older men—especially one who took care of himself, as he did—desirable.

  From what he’d learned about Danielle Boatman, she had lost her father a number of years ago—which likely meant she was seeking a father figure. I’ll be your daddy, poor little rich girl.

  Baron chuckled. He found himself highly amusing.

  When Danielle swung the door open a moment later, Baron smiled. She was even lovelier than he remembered. He wasn’t overly fond of her braid. It wasn’t a normal braid. What is it called? He couldn’t remember. But it didn’t matter. He would convince her to wear it down. Baron liked women with long hair. Beverly wore her hair too short.

  While his height—over six feet—made it possible for him to date taller women without feeling uncomfortable, he preferred women of Danielle’s stature. His wife, Melissa, had been about Danielle’s height—five feet five would be his guess.

  He wouldn’t call Danielle fat—but she could afford to lose some weight. He knew a diet doctor who could take care of that with a few pills. Her bust size wasn’t impressive—he had a doctor for that too. From what he understood, Danielle could easily afford a nice set of double-Ds. He was confident in his ability to convince her to make those minor changes.

  “Baron…hello,” Danielle said in surprise, one hand holding onto the door’s edge.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I just stopped by, but you promised me a tour, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town.” With a wide smile—his straight white teeth fairly sparkling—he raised the wine bottle up, offering it to her. “I thought perhaps I could bribe you.”

  Danielle wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but she immediately recognized the red and gold label on the bottle Baron offered her. She had seen that label’s distinctive chateau before. It was the same brand of wine Adam had purchased for Chris as a closing gift—and she knew it cost over three hundred dollars a bottle.

  Reluctantly accepting the wine, Danielle stepped back, opening the door wider for Baron to enter.

  “This was really sweet of you.” Danielle glanced down at the expensive bottle of wine and then looked back to Baron. “But you really didn’t need to bring me anything. I’m happy to show you the house.”

  “Who is this dandy?” Walt asked as he circled Baron, looking him up and down.

  Resisting her urge to smile at Walt, Danielle shut the front door and then set the bottle on the entry hall table. “I suppose we can start the tour downstairs.” She pointed to the parlor door.

  “Do you have guests staying here now?” he asked, his voice low and even.

  “No. We’re closed for a few weeks until we complete some work.”

  Baron followed her into the parlor. Instead of allowing a comfortable distance between him and Danielle, Baron walked so closely behind her that should she suddenly stop, he would find himself pressed along her body. The man’s hovering presence did not go unnoticed by Walt, who took it upon himself to place his hand in front of Baron’s belly and give him a firm shove back, widening the distance between Danielle and Baron.

  Baron let out a grunt and stopped walking, his hand flying to his stomach. Danielle, whose back had been to Walt and Baron and had missed Walt’s intervention, turned and looked curiously from Walt to Baron.

  “The man needs to know when to give a lady her space,” Walt grumbled, giving Baron the evil eye.

  “Is everything okay?” Danielle asked, wondering what had just happened.

  Baron absently rubbed his stomach and glanced around the room nervously. “It must have been something I ate.”

  “Can I get you something? A Tums maybe?” She glanced over to Walt, wondering why he was smirking.

  After a moment, Baron shook his head and seemed to regain his composure. He smiled at Danielle and glanced around the room. “Did you decorate this yourself?”

  “Most of the furniture was here when I moved in. We really haven’t made many changes other than reupholstering and refinishing some pieces.”

  “We?”

  “When I say we, I mean me and Lily. You met Lily at Beverly’s. She helps me run the bed and breakfast. Lily’s the one responsible for a number of the improvements in the garden—with the help of a great landscaper.”

  “This is a quaint little room.” While glancing around, he took a step closer to Danielle.

  “This is our parlor,” Danielle said politely, taking a step back just as Walt was preparing to give Baron another jab in the gut.

  From the parlor, they moved to the library, kitchen, downstairs bedroom, and living room. As they made their way up the staircase, Danielle held onto the rail while Baron walked next to her. When his hand moved to her lower back, in a seemingly gentlemanly and protective gesture, Walt reached out and swatted the man, causing Baron to stop a moment and stare at his hand, a look of confusion on his face.

  When they reached the second-floor landing, Baron asked if he could use the restroom—a look of confusion still clouding his features as he continually glanced down at the hand Walt had swatted.

  “You have to stop that!” Danielle hissed when Baron went
into the bathroom.

  “Stop what?” Walt asked innocently.

  “You smacked his hand. I saw you. And what did you do to him in the parlor?”

  “The man is trying to climb all over you!”

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “No, he’s not. Granted, he’s one of those people who have no clue about respecting a person’s private space. But I think he’s harmless.”

  “Harmless?” Walt practically choked on the word.

  “He’s old enough to be my father.”

  “Maybe you should tell him that. Might work better than a bucket of ice.”

  “Come on, Walt, behave. He just wants to see the house.”

  Now it was Walt’s turn to roll his eyes.

  When Baron returned from the bathroom, they continued the tour without incident. That was primarily because Baron was still a little preoccupied with the odd sensation he had experienced in the parlor and then again when coming up the steps—as if someone had hit him.

  But by the time they returned to the first floor, Baron had regained his composure. If Danielle assumed her uninvited guest was about to leave, she was wrong.

  Standing by the entry table, Baron picked up the wine bottle and said, “Let’s have a glass of wine and we can toast our new friendship.” When Danielle didn’t respond immediately, he asked, “I hope we can be friends.”

  “Isn’t it a little early for wine?” Danielle asked awkwardly.

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who believes they have to wait until five to have a drink?”

  “Umm…I guess not…”

  “And I’d love to see how you like this wine. It’s absolutely my favorite.”

  Knowing how expensive the wine was, Danielle felt a little guilty just keeping it. She supposed the least she could do was share it with him. Reluctantly, she flashed Baron a smile and led him into the kitchen.

  Twenty-Five

  “So you’re closed down for a while?” Baron asked as he watched Danielle open the bottle of wine.

  “Yes. We’ll be open again for sure in May.” She filled two wineglasses and handed Baron one.

  “A toast,” Baron said, picking up the other glass off the counter and handing it to Danielle. “I hope this is the beginning of a rich friendship.”

  Feeling awkward, Danielle tapped her glass against Baron’s and took a sip. She paused a moment and looked at her wine. “Wow, this really is good.”

  He smiled. “I told you.”

  Walt shook his head in disgust and sat down at the table. He watched Danielle and Baron, who stood next to the counter, each with a glass in hand.

  “So tell me, Ms. Boatman, do you like to be spontaneous?”

  “Spontaneous, how?” She took another sip.

  “Why don’t you fly to San Francisco with me tonight? I know a great little restaurant I’d love to show you.”

  Danielle choked on her wine. After a few unfeminine sputters, she caught her breath.

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid it went down the wrong way. I think your offer to fly to San Francisco caught me off guard.”

  Walt was just about to smack Baron’s hand off Danielle’s shoulder when Baron moved it on his own.

  “It’s just dinner out, Danielle. Can’t two friends enjoy dinner together?”

  Danielle looked in Baron’s gray eyes. “But fly to San Francisco?”

  Smiling, he reached out, the back of his hand gently grazing the side of her face. “I felt something the first moment I saw you. We could be so very good together, I just know it. I want to take care of you.”

  The only thing that stopped Walt from breaking Baron’s hand was the fact he spied Chris coming up the walkway leading to the kitchen door. The only reason Danielle didn’t swat Baron’s hand herself, she was in shock. Walt had warned her what the man was up to, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. She should have.

  Danielle took a step back and set her wine on the counter, preparing to tell Baron she wasn’t interested, when the kitchen door suddenly flew open. Both she and Baron looked to the now open door at the same time. It appeared that Chris, who now stood just inside the kitchen, had just opened the door, when, in fact, it was Walt who had flung it open.

  “For once I’m glad to see you,” Walt told Chris.

  “Oh, Chris, hi,” Danielle called out.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” Chris looked as if he was about to turn around and leave.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” Walt snatched Chris’s arm and yanked him farther into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.

  Confused, Chris glanced from Walt to Danielle and then to the strange man standing in the kitchen with a glass of wine.

  “Would you like some wine?” Danielle asked, sounding more cheerful than she felt.

  Chris glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “Umm…no, that’s okay.”

  “Baron, this is a good friend of mine and neighbor, Chris Johnson. Chris, this is Baron Huxley. He was a good friend of Steve Klein’s.”

  Still a bit confused, Chris walked to Baron and shook his hand.

  “Don’t get too friendly with the palooka. He was all over Danielle a moment ago,” Walt said with disgust.

  Danielle flashed Walt a glare while Chris looked from Danielle to Baron.

  Baron started making small talk with Chris, who wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. It was too difficult to concentrate with Walt talking—especially considering what Walt was telling him.

  “This guy comes over here with the pretense of wanting to see the house, and the next thing you know, he’s trying to get Danielle to fly off to San Francisco with him. I warned her what he was up to, but no, Danielle insisted he’s old enough to be her father, as if that means he’s harmless.” Walt fairly growled. “Harmless like a rattlesnake.”

  “What is it you do?” Baron asked Chris for the second time.

  Trying to process what was going on, Chris finally caught Baron’s question. Flashing him an uneasy smile, he said, “I’m sort of in between jobs right now.”

  “Really?” Baron looked Chris up and down. “I have a friend who does property management in town—Danielle knows him—Adam Nichols.”

  Chris grinned. “I know Adam.”

  “You should talk to him. He mentioned something to me today about his handyman needing help. He might be able to use you. It could work into something.”

  Unable to suppress a giggle, Danielle picked up her wine, took another sip, and then said, “Chris is not really the handyman type.”

  Chris looked over at Danielle. “I just stopped over to see if you wanted to go out and get something to eat a little later.”

  “I’m afraid I got to her first,” Baron said with a wink.

  “If you won’t hit him, I will,” Walt said.

  Chris frowned at Baron. “Excuse me?”

  Noting Danielle’s startled expression, Baron quickly added, “I just meant I already asked Danielle to go out to dinner with me. We were just in the middle of negotiating where we should go.”

  “He’s lying,” Walt said. “He told Danielle he wanted to fly her to San Francisco for dinner. She never agreed.” Walt looked at Danielle. “Am I wrong?”

  “I appreciate your offer, Baron, but I’m not interested in going out to dinner with you.”

  “Maybe we should discuss this after your friend leaves?” Baron suggested.

  Walt groaned and gave Chris a little shove in Danielle’s direction. “Are you just going to stand there like an idiot? Tell the guy to take a hike and keep his hands off your girl.”

  Startled by his comment, both Danielle and Chris looked to Walt.

  Baron started to say something, but in the next moment, Walt pushed Chris again, sending him colliding into Danielle. Walt grabbed Chris’s right wrist, forcing his arm around Danielle’s shoulder, almost knocking the glass out of her hand. Danielle couldn’t help i
t, she giggled. Chris, now standing next to Danielle with his arm casually draped around her shoulder, snatched the wineglass from her hand and took a sip.

  “You see, Mr. Huxley, Danielle here is my girl.”

  Danielle could swear Chris had suddenly taken on a hillbilly accent.

  Chris took another sip of the wine and paused. He turned to Danielle and said in a serious voice, “Wow, this wine is really good.”

  Danielle nodded. “I know. It’s the same brand Adam got you.”

  “The one that was stolen?”

  Danielle nodded again.

  Chris took another sip. “Damn. I should have filed charges against that vagrant.”

  “I…I think I’ll be going now,” Baron Huxley stammered. Setting his still-full glass on the counter, he hurried out the kitchen door.

  “So what was that all about?” Chris asked, his arm still draped over Danielle’s shoulder. It didn’t stay there long. In the next moment, Walt knocked it off and gave Chris a shove away from Danielle.

  Ignoring Walt’s last outburst, Danielle picked up the bottle and suggested they move it to the library. Before leaving the kitchen, Chris grabbed a clean glass for himself.

  In the library, Chris managed to beat Walt to the sofa, where he sat with Danielle. Walt stood by the fireplace, smoking a cigar, while Danielle told Chris about her odd encounter with Baron Huxley.

  “So you met him once and then he hit on you?” Chris asked after she finished telling her story.

  “Twice. I met him first on Sunday, when Lily and I stopped over at Beverly Klein’s and then again at Adam’s when I dropped those papers off for you.”

  Chris looked at Walt. “Was he really that bad?”

  Walt nodded. “Worse.”

  “I thought he was interested in Beverly, the way he was looking at her the other day. To be honest, when Lily and I met him, he really didn’t give either of us a second look. His attention was completely on Beverly. And when I met him the second time at Adam’s he was just polite. I really did think he just wanted to look at the house. I’d like to believe I could have handled him without your guys’ help, but my radar was really off. When he asked me to go to San Francisco with him and started saying all that stuff…” Danielle cringed.