by Bobbi Holmes
“It wasn’t Danielle, it was me.”
Cheryl stared at Walt. “You?”
“I didn’t mean to hit you.” Walt shrugged. “But you were grabbing at the necklace and I just meant to push you away. I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm,” Cheryl frowned. Glancing back out the window she said, “You really need to show me how you do that.”
They were silent a few moments when Walt finally said, “I wish I could hear what they’re saying.”
“Why are they outside, anyway? She knows you can’t hear her when she’s on the patio.”
“I think that is exactly why she’s outside,” Walt grumbled. “Said something about me being too distracting when she’s trying to have a serious conversation with someone.”
“Well, I can go outside,” Cheryl said.
“No, it would be better if you just stay here with me.”
“Oh poop, when have I ever made the better choice?”
“That’s probably the reason you got yourself killed.”
“Perhaps. But the nice thing about being dead—they can’t kill you again!” Cheryl laughed and then moved through the kitchen wall to the back patio. Glancing back to the window she noticed Walt’s look of disapproval. In response she stuck out her tongue then turned to her cousin and the attorney.
Danielle was listening to Mr. Renton list the various criminal attorneys he knew, along with their pros and cons, when she noticed Cheryl standing behind him. Frowning she wanted to tell Cheryl to go back into the house so she could concentrate on the conversation.
“Hello, Dani, I’m back!” Cheryl said cheerfully. “I’m here to help you. I won’t let them charge you with my murder, I promise.”
“Excuse me Mr. Renton, could you repeat that. I am afraid…well I didn’t quite get it,” Danielle said, glancing over his shoulder she narrowed her eyes at Cheryl.
“Oops, sorry Dani. I’ll be quiet, promise,” Cheryl said sheepishly as she walked around to Dani’s side of the table so she could listen to what Mr. Renton was saying. When Cheryl turned to face the attorney she froze. Unable to move, Cheryl’s eyes widened as she took in the face of Clarence Renton. It all came back to her—she remembered.
“Zimmerman is a good man, but he is representing Adam so I think…” Clarence continued to talk, unaware of Cheryl’s presence.
“It’s him! He’s the one who killed me!” Cheryl shrieked.
Cheryl’s accusation so startled Danielle, that before she had time to consider her words, she blurted out, “You murdered my cousin?”
Clarence Renton immediately stopped talking. He looked at Danielle, who continued to stare at him, her eyes wide with a hint of fear. “What did you just say?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Oh my god, it is him!” Cheryl said excitedly, jumping up and down. “I remember now. Sam took me into that shed and I was so sleepy. I just remember closing my eyes and lying on the floor. But then I was standing up, looking down at my body—oh my god—there was so much blood! And someone was standing next to me, it wasn’t Sam, it was Clarence Renton. He was holding a flashlight, it was covered with blood. I could hear him cursing, saying he didn’t have a choice. He took the necklace off my neck, covered my body with some rafts and then left me there, all alone in that dark shed.”
“You killed my cousin, why?” Danielle asked, still stunned.
“Umm…I don’t think you should be asking him that,” Cheryl said nervously. “You need to run Dani. Please, Dani!” Cheryl continued to hop around nervously.
Clutching the handle of his coffee mug, Renton glared at Danielle. Without answering her question he jumped up and flew across the table. Swinging the heavy ceramic mug in her direction, coffee flying, he hit Danielle squarely on the temple, sending her backwards in the chair, landing on the patio.
“No, Dani, No!” Cheryl cried, jumping up and down. Waving her arms she tried to push Clarence away from her cousin, but her attempts were futile. Inside the house, Walt stood helpless at the window, the palms of his hands against the glass. He watched in horror as Clarence Renton leaned down to Danielle’s unconscious body.
Chapter Forty
Walt stood inside the house and watched Clarence drag Danielle’s lifeless body toward the kitchen door.
“Do something!” Cheryl shouted, now standing in the house next to Walt.
“I can’t do anything until he gets inside. But when he does….” Walt watched as Clarence opened the door. He tugged Danielle’s body inside the kitchen, dropping it on the floor. When Clarence went to close the door, Walt leaned down beside Danielle. “She’s still breathing,” he told Cheryl.
“What are you going to do about him?” Cheryl pointed to Clarence who now stood over Danielle.
“I’m sorry I have to do this,” Clarence said aloud. “If your cousin hadn’t come, none of this would have happened.”
“Do something!” Cheryl continued to jump up and down.
“Be quiet, I want to hear what he has to say. There will be plenty of time to deal with him. I won’t let him hurt Danielle any more.” Walt watched Clarence.
“We’ll have to make this look like an accident. I’ll carry you up the stairs and let you take a nice tumble,” Clarence said.
“That’s what Roger was going to do to me,” Walt said.
“Who’s Roger?” Cheryl asked.
“My brother-in-law.” Walt didn’t take his eyes off Clarence.
“Gee, nice brother-in-law…I wonder why Mr. Renton says none of this would have happened if I hadn’t come. What did I do wrong?”
“Aside from stealing the necklace? Being annoying?” Walt asked.
“Sometimes you can be mean.” Cheryl frowned.
“Hush, I want to hear what he has to say.”
Hooking his arms under Danielle’s armpits, Clarence began to drag her unconscious body backwards, toward the kitchen door leading to the hallway. The effort taxed his overweight body, his breathing labored from the exertion.
“Damn, you feel like a ton of bricks,” Clarence moaned. “If your damn cousin hadn’t come nosing around, threatening to look into your aunt’s will I wouldn’t have to do this. But maybe this will work out for the best.” Clarence chuckled. “Yes, it really might. O’Malley Trust won’t just be getting the rest of your aunt’s money—it will be getting your cousin’s. Damn, I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried!” Clarence laughed as he dragged Danielle into the wide entry hall leading from the front door to the stairs.
Walt had heard enough. Clarence didn’t see it coming, the bronze statue that floated from the library, hovering over the attorney’s head. Just as Danielle was regaining conscious the statue dropped, crashing down on Clarence’s skull, sending him sprawling unconscious on the entry hall floor.
Rubbing her sore forehead, Danielle sat up and looked around. Clarence was sprawled on the floor next to her, either unconscious or dead, she wasn’t sure. Jumping to her feet she looked around frantically. The moment she spied Walt and Cheryl relief washed over her. “What happened?”
“Your attorney tried to kill you,” Walt said angrily.
“Is he dead?” Danielle looked down at the man by her feet.
“I don’t think so,” Walt said as the bronze statue rose from the floor, hovering again over the attorney’s head. “But I can take care of that.”
“No!” Danielle cried out.
• • • •
Brian Henderson and Joe Morelli stood on the front porch of Marlow House. Joe was just about to ring the bell when he heard a woman frantically cry out, “No!” Without hesitation he and Brian rushed inside.
Danielle Boatman stood in the middle of the hallway, her hands raised in the air as she held a bronze statue. On the floor was a man, who it was Brian and Joe couldn’t tell. But it was obvious to them she was about to hit the helpless man a second time.
“Don’t move!” Brian and Joe called out simultaneously.
Danielle hadn’t heard anyone come into the house�
�she had been so intent on stopping Walt from killing Clarence Renton. Looking to the voices, Danielle found herself staring down the barrel of two guns. She almost dropped the statue, but she managed to stop herself, terrified one of the men would shoot her.
“Put it down slowly,” Joe ordered.
“I’ll take care of this!” Walt said angrily.
“No Walt, please. Let me handle this, please,” Danielle begged, slowly lowering the statue to the floor.
Holstering their guns, the officer’s rushed forward, Brian pulling Danielle’s arms around her back as he handcuffed her wrists, while Joe leaned down by Clarence’s side, checking his vitals.
“It’s Clarence Renton, he’s alive,” Joe announced before calling for an ambulance.
• • • •
Danielle sat alone in the interview room, her head throbbing. She’d asked for a couple aspirin, but so far no one had bothered to give her any. On the way to the police station, Cheryl sat in the back of the police car with Danielle, telling her what Clarence had said while she was unconscious. When they arrived at the station, Cheryl disappeared. Danielle didn’t know where she had gone.
“You’re lucky you didn’t kill him,” Joe said when he entered the room and sat down across the table from Danielle. “I just talked to the hospital; they tell me he’s going to be okay.”
“He tried to kill me,” Danielle said angrily. “But I guess you don’t care about that.”
“Why would your attorney try to kill you?”
“Well gee, why would I try to kill my attorney?” Danielle snapped. “Look at my head; can’t you see where he hit me?”
Joe leaned toward her and looked where she pointed at her temple. “It looks a little red, but nothing like the number you did on poor Clarence.”
“Poor Clarence? He tried to kill me!”
“Clarence was just trying to help you. Just like I am. Let us help you Danielle, before anyone else gets hurt.”
“What are you talking about?” Danielle leaned back in her chair and looked at Joe. She remembered the first time they had met. It seemed like ages ago—yet it had only been weeks. She thought he was so handsome back then—with his wavy dark hair, friendly brown eyes. They didn’t look friendly now. He looked at her with pity—as if she was somehow broken.
“I know Clarence was just trying to convince you to get some help. He suspected you killed Cheryl and when he tried to talk to you about it you became enraged, attacked him.”
“He told you that?”
“He told Brian. Brian talked to him after he regained consciousness.”
“He’s lying. He killed Cheryl.”
“Please stop, Danielle. You aren’t helping yourself.”
“And you aren’t listening to me!” Danielle said angrily.
“We did a little digging in your background,” Joe said.
“So? I’ve never had any problem with the law.”
“No, but you do have a history of mental illness.”
“What are you talking about?” Danielle felt sick. She knew very well what he was talking about.
“Brian and I heard you—you said No Walt, please. Let me handle this, please. Who did you think you were talking to?”
“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Danielle lied, shifting nervously in her chair.
“I know your parents were concerned about you. You claimed to hear voices—see things that weren’t there. They tried to get help for you. I’m trying to help you now.”
“Oh god,” Danielle groaned. “You think I’m crazy. That crazy me killed my cousin.”
“Like I said, I just want to …”
“Help me, yes I know. You keep telling me that. But if you sincerely wanted to help, listen to what I have to say.”
“Okay. Go ahead.” Joe leaned back in his chair and studied Danielle.
“I believe there was something funny about my aunt’s estate.”
“Funny?”
“My aunt left most of her money to her favorite charities—one in particular received the bulk of her estate—O’Malley Trust. I never questioned it.”
“I thought you were the sole heir to your aunt’s estate,” Joe said. “I thought that’s why Cheryl was contesting the will.”
“No, I just inherited a small portion of it, Marlow House and a little money. But like I said, most of Aunt Brianna’s money went to O’Malley Trust. I never thought anything about it because I never expected to inherit anything in the first place. I was just thrilled to get Marlow House.”
“Are you suggesting Clarence Renton did something illegal?”
“I had no idea Aunt Brianna had Alzheimer’s during her last year. She’d write every few months. The letters weren’t as long as they used to be, but I didn’t think anything about it.”
“Cheryl found out your aunt had Alzheimer’s?”
“Yes. I had no idea. Cheryl believed Aunt Brianna wasn’t competent when she made her last will—that she’d never leave her out of it. At the time, I assumed if Cheryl was successful at proving her claim the only thing that would happen—I’d have to give her half of my inheritance. But I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Joe asked.
“The court wouldn’t just look at what I inherited from my aunt, they would look at the non-profits she left money too—especially O’Malley Trust. I have a feeling if you look into O’Malley Trust you’ll find Clarence Renton profits in some way. He didn’t want Cheryl pursuing her case. He needed her out of the way, for good.”
“Why kill you?”
“Because I figured it out, and I foolishly let him know. He was going to kill me, just like he killed Cheryl. Plus, with me dead, O’Malley Trust would inherit my money—Cheryl’s money.”
“I don’t understand.”
“After my aunt’s inheritance, Mr. Renton encouraged me to make a new will. My husband had recently died and in my previous will everything went to him. When I couldn’t decide who I should leave my estate to, Mr. Renton suggested I leave it to my aunt’s favorite charity—O’Malley Trust. He said I could always change it later when I decided what I wanted to do. At the time it seemed like a nice gesture.”
Brian popped his head in the door for a moment, telling Joe the chief wanted to see him. Joe excused himself and left Danielle alone in the room. She looked up at the mirror on the wall and wondered if they were watching her.
• • • •
“Well, what do you think?” the chief asked when he met Joe and Brian in the hall outside of the interview room.
“I think she believes what she’s saying,” Joe said.
“Does that mean you don’t think she killed her cousin?” the chief asked.
“I think she’s a sick girl,” Joe said sadly. “You didn’t hear her back at Marlow House.”
“It was kind of strange,” Brian agreed. “She obviously thought she was talking to Walt Marlow. Ant then there was the way she was preparing to bash in Clarence’s head. I mean hell, he was already unconscious.”
“How in the world did you find out about her mental health issues?” the chief asked.
“Mostly from Cheryl Hartford’s attorney. Apparently Cheryl told him when Danielle was a child she insisted she could see ghosts. Her parents sent her to a psychiatrist for about a year. The doctor is retired now. When I called him I wasn’t surprised he’d refuse to talk about her case, but he inadvertently confirmed she’d been his patient.”
“So what do you think we should do?” the chief asked.
“I think she needs a psychological evaluation,” Joe said.
• • • •
Adam woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Sitting up in his bed he glanced at his alarm clock. He’d been sleeping off an on for almost 24 hours. Yawning, he reached for the phone from his nightstand. It was his grandmother.
“Hi Grandma,” Adam said lazily leaning back in the bed.
“Adam where are you?”
“In bed.” Adam yawned again.
> “What, are you sick?”
“No, but I’ve been a little sleep deprived this past week. Just catching up.”
“Well you need to get right out of that bed and do something!” Marie said anxiously.
“Do something? What are you talking about Grandma?”
“About poor Danielle Boatman. You have to help her. She would never do such a horrible thing. This would break my dear friend’s heart.”
“What dear friend?” Adam sat up in the bed and scratched his head. What is she talking about?
“Brianna O’Malley, of course! Danielle needs our help. She is practically family.”
“Why does she need our help?”
“Because she’s been arrested! I heard through Joyce Pruitt, whose next door neighbor’s niece is dating a boy who works at the police station. They’re arresting Danielle for the murder of her cousin!”
“Danielle didn’t murder Cheryl.”
“I know that. That’s why you have to do something!”
• • • •
Slumped over the table, her head resting on folded arms, Danielle closed her eyes. She felt as if she had been in the interview room for hours. She wanted to call an attorney, but she had no idea who to call, and the idea of using a public defender didn’t appeal to her. They told her she could make one call. She wanted to call Lily. Lily and Ian would help. The only problem was she didn’t know Lily’s number. It was programed into her cellphone—her cellphone that was still sitting in the kitchen at Marlow House. The fact was, she didn’t know anyone’s phone number by heart; she could barely remember her own. When she got out of this mess—which she hoped to God she would be able to do—she vowed to memorize a list of important numbers.
The door to the interview room opened. Danielle looked up and was surprised to find Adam Nichols standing at the doorway. Brian stood behind him.
“Adam wanted to see you. We thought it would be okay,” Brian said. Adam walked into the room. Brian left and shut the door, leaving Adam alone with Danielle.
“Why are you here?” Danielle asked, sitting up straight in the chair.
