Thirty-Two
The next three weeks went by quickly. Lily spent most of her time cleaning and reorganizing her house in anticipation of the baby’s arrival. During this time period, she and Ian also purchased paint for the nursery walls and signed up for a Lamaze class, which was to begin at the end of the month.
Across the street Marlow House prepared for its annual July Fourth anniversary celebration, which was just days away. This year they were using it to raise money for the local humane society’s building fund. Walt and Danielle expected Pearl to raise a fuss over the event; however, they just expected it sooner than it actually came. Since finding the remains on her property, Pearl avoided going out, uncomfortable with people coming up to her and asking questions. Therefore, she hadn’t heard the news around town. The first article about the event that had appeared in the local newspaper had come out two weeks earlier, but Pearl had spilt tea on that page and totally missed the article. But she didn’t miss the second one.
“You can’t do this!” Pearl shook the rolled-up newspaper at Walt and Danielle. The two stood in the open doorway with their angry neighbor standing on the front porch glaring at them. Moments earlier the pair had been in the living room and had spied Pearl stomping up to their front door. They decided it prudent to answer the door together.
“You really need to stop doing this,” Danielle said calmly. “It is all perfectly legal. We have a permit for the event—and the city is behind us a hundred percent.”
“Do you realize how much traffic this street has gotten since—since—” Pearl started to sputter.
“Since remains were found in your backyard?” Walt finished for her.
“All those nosey looky-loos trying to see something,” Pearl said, still waving the newspaper.
“And whose fault is that?” Danielle asked.
“It isn’t mine!” Pearl snapped. “I had nothing to do with those remains being there. They were already buried in the backyard when I bought the house. And who knows, maybe they were there when my grandparents bought it!” She pointed the newspaper at Walt and Danielle. “But your family owned this house all that time. How do we know your family didn’t have something to do with bodies being buried on my property! Someone from Marlow House could have put them there!”
“You are being silly,” Danielle said patiently. “And no one is accusing you of being personally responsible for what they found in your backyard. But don’t blame us for the additional traffic on Beach Drive.”
“But you’re doing this.” Pearl opened the newspaper and shoved the article at Danielle. “This will bring even more traffic to our street. And when all those people are here, do you know what they will be doing?”
“Having fun?” Walt asked.
Pearl glared at him. “They’ll be looking in my backyard. They can’t see it from the street, although that doesn’t stop them from standing on the sidewalk and gawking. This ridiculous little event of yours will just attract more looky-loos who want a better view into my yard to gawk. This is an invasion of my privacy!”
“You really are being silly,” Danielle repeated.
As it turned out, Pearl wasn’t being silly at all. Those attending the anniversary charity event days later weren’t just animal lovers; many attended simply for an opportunity to get a better view into Pearl’s backyard.
American flag bunting; Stars and Stripes flag banners; red, white and blue streamers; carnation floral arrangements; and an assortment of other patriotic ornaments decorated the grounds of Marlow House, as well as inside. Heather took her turn at the side gate manning the ticket booth, while Chris and Ian passed out refreshments. Inside Walt was giving a tour of the house, while outside, Danielle took a break to chat with Lily. The two women stood by the refreshment table, looking toward the portion of the side fence separating Marlow House’s property from Pearl’s. Attendees to the charity event lined the fence, shamelessly peering into Pearl’s yard and pointing. Upstairs at Pearl’s house, the angry neighbor looked down at them from a bedroom window.
“I guess she was right,” Danielle said as she sipped her lemonade, glancing from Pearl to the people looking into her yard.
“On the positive side, it helped you sell more tickets. Good for the animals,” Lily chirped.
“I don’t think Pearl cares about that. She’s not exactly an animal lover,” Danielle reminded her.
With a shrug Lily glanced briefly to Pearl and then looked back to Danielle. “You could always lie and tell Pearl the shelter you’re raising money for is a kill shelter. That might cheer her up.”
Sputtering from a spontaneous laugh, Danielle spit out a little lemonade, choking for a moment. She coughed and wiped off her mouth with the napkin she had been holding. “That’s perverse,” Danielle managed to say after she regained composure, unable to keep from smiling.
“The only one who’s perverse around here is Pearl,” Lily said, her expression now devoid of humor. “If those remains hadn’t been there for so long, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out Pearl was the one who buried them.”
“Looks like a great turnout. Congratulations!” came a male voice.
Danielle turned to find her new neighbor, Bud Caine, approaching her. By his side was a woman who Danielle guessed to be around Bud’s age.
“Mr. Caine, so glad you could make it!” Danielle greeted.
“Please call me Bud.” He grinned.
“Bud, this is another one of our neighbors, Lily Bartley. Lily, this is Bud Caine; he lives in the house three doors up the street. Lily and her husband, Ian, live across the street.”
“Nice to meet you.” Lily flashed him a smile.
“I see congratulations are in order for you too,” Bud said. “Congratulations!”
Lily smiled again and patted her baby bump. “Thank you.”
Bud turned to the elderly woman at his side. She looked familiar to Danielle, but she couldn’t place her.
“This is my dear friend Margaret Richards. Margaret and I met in kindergarten.”
They exchanged more pleasantries, and Margaret insisted they call her by her first name.
“My older sister and Margaret’s were good friends. We used to love to torment them.” Bud laughed at the memory.
“I see the old Morton house is certainly getting a lot of attention.” Margaret nodded toward the crowd of gawkers at the side fence. “They still haven’t identified those remains, have they?”
Danielle shook her head. “Nope. They just know whoever they were, they were probably killed around seventy years ago. They were able to get DNA, but nothing came up to help them.”
“Seventy years, that’s around the time Maisy sold the house,” Margaret noted.
“Around that.” Danielle nodded.
“I didn’t really know the people who moved in after the Mortons,” Margaret said. “But I can’t imagine the Mortons had anything to do with it.”
“Why do you say that?” Bud asked. “I remember my dad didn’t have many kind words for Mr. Morton.”
Margaret shrugged. “The man owned a funeral home. I can’t imagine someone like that burying bodies on their own property.”
‘That’s what Faye said,” Danielle added.
“That’s not necessarily true,” Lily said. “Ian and I were just talking about this. There was a case in Rhode Island a few years back where a funeral director hid bodies in a storage unit and other locations and then pocketed cremation and burial fees.”
“I remember reading about that,” Bud chimed in.
“Yeah, the chief mentioned that sort of thing happens sometimes,” Danielle said. “The thought had never occurred to me.”
“Does that mean the remains might be the results of an improper burial—fraud on the part of the funeral home?” Margaret asked.
Danielle shook her head. “They don’t think so. I know they have since gone through death records for that time frame looking for any deaths that match the bodies found—that were handled by the M
orton Funeral Home, but nothing came up. Plus, it looks as if the people were murdered.”
“I don’t know Maisy very well, but I don’t see her as a murderer,” Margaret said. “Although my sister used to say she wasn’t as sweet as everyone said.”
“Margaret Richards, you were always such a gossip!” Marie said when she appeared the next moment. Of course, only Danielle could see her.
Arching her brows, Danielle glanced to Marie.
“Well, she is,” Marie insisted. “Margaret and Bud were a few years younger than me. Bud had an annoying crush on me, and Margaret was a meddlesome gossip.”
“How so?” Lily asked Margaret.
“For one thing, I can’t imagine how difficult it was for Daisy, always being compared to Maisy as if her sister was some sort of paragon. Maisy was held up as the daughter who didn’t drink, smoke or run around with boys. Stayed at home to take care of their father. But Daisy was just a young woman herself, and she had her own dreams. When Mr. Morton died, everything was left to Maisy. My sister felt so sorry for Daisy being cut out of the will. How could a father do something like that?” Margaret asked. “Of course, poor Daisy had nowhere to go. It wasn’t like she had a job or anything, and she wasn’t married at the time. According to my sister, Maisy let her stay at the house, even telling everyone she insisted. Said she didn’t want to kick her sister out on the street. But the real story, Maisy had all sorts of conditions.”
“Conditions?” Lily asked.
“Oh, pshaw. Like I would take anything that sister of yours would say seriously! She was a worse gossip than you!” Marie snorted.
“According to my sister, Maisy tried to run Daisy’s life. It was like Maisy believed she was now the parent, since the entire estate had gone to her, and now that she controlled the purse strings, she could control her sister.”
“Technically speaking, it was Maisy’s money,” Danielle reminded her.
“Perhaps. But it wasn’t right. In fact, Kenneth Bakken, Maisy’s fiancé at the time, could see it too. He was horrified with how Maisy was treating her sister. It’s really what ended their relationship and brought him together with Daisy.”
“Oh, malarkey!” Marie barked. “I’ve never heard such a heap of poppycock in my life. Kenneth didn’t end up with Daisy because he felt sorry that the poor thing was being mistreated, he ended up with her because Daisy set her sights on him. And as I recall, that girl had a knack of getting whatever she wanted.”
Danielle glanced warily from Marie to Margaret, wondering whose version of the story was correct. She felt disloyal to Marie to consider Margaret’s version, yet she also recalled there was a time Marie had been convinced Danielle had amorous feelings toward her grandson Adam.
“In fact, I’ll tell you something that is not widely known,” Margaret said in a hushed whisper. “Just before Daisy eloped with Kenneth, our family was preparing to go to Los Angeles for my cousin’s wedding. Daisy came over to our house and asked my sister to mail a letter to Maisy for her when she got to Los Angeles.”
“A letter? What kind of letter?” Lily asked.
“She and Kenneth were planning to elope, but Daisy was afraid her sister would interfere. In fact, Maisy had even threatened to have her committed!”
“Committed for what?” Danielle asked.
“Maisy said Daisy was not acting right—that she should see a doctor. Considering all the money Maisy had after her father died, Daisy was terrified her sister would be able to have her committed—locked up forever in a mental institution.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Maisy tried to get Daisy to seek help,” Marie told Danielle. “Daisy did act erratically. But caring about your sister and wanting her to get help is certainly not sinister like Margaret is painting.”
“What did this letter say?” Lily asked.
“It was a letter telling Maisy that she and Kenneth had eloped and were okay. But the real reason she wanted the letter mailed, Daisy wanted her sister to think she and Kenneth were in California. That way, if she started looking for them, she would be searching in the wrong area. So while Maisy thought her sister was down south, she and Kenneth were heading east.”
Thirty-Three
August was just days away. Lily and Ian had attended their first Lamaze class, but the next day Ian had been called back to California for another meeting with the producer on his current project. Unhappy with her husband’s unexpected business trip, Lily sat glumly in the passenger seat of Danielle’s car as the two headed to Adam’s office.
“My folks are going to be here next week. What if Adam can’t recommend anyone?” Lily asked Danielle. Ian had planned to paint the nursery this week, but his trip to California made that impossible. Lily’s original plan was to have the nursery freshly painted and ready for her parents’ arrival, when they would be bringing the gifts from Lily’s first baby shower, which included the crib and dresser Lily’s parents had given them.
“Then I’ll paint it for you,” Danielle suggested.
“No, you won’t. No offense, but you’re kind of a crappy painter.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” Danielle grumbled. “But true.”
“I do appreciate the offer,” Lily said. “I guess in the big scheme of things, this is not a big deal.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Just as long as you don’t do something stupid, like try painting it yourself. You know what your doctor said.”
“I know. And while I don’t always do what my doctor tells me to, I won’t do anything to risk the health of my baby.” Lily looked down at her protruding belly and gave it a gentle pat.
Ten minutes later they entered Adam’s office. Unbeknownst to Lily—and Adam—he was not alone. Marie hovered overhead in an invisible chair.
“Danielle, Lily, hello!” Marie called out, waving down to the pair.
Danielle glanced up at Marie and flashed her a smile.
Adam stood up from the desk, his eyes on Lily’s belly. “Wow. You really are pregnant.”
“Well, gee thanks, I think,” Lily said dryly as she plopped down ungracefully in a chair.
“I just meant—” Adam stammered.
“I know what you meant. I’m as big as a house.”
Marie frowned down at her grandson. “Adam, sometimes you just don’t think before you talk.” She pinched his right ear.
Adam’s right hand flew to his ear. “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked.
Adam rubbed his earlobe. “Did something bite me?”
Danielle looked at Adam’s ear and shook her head. “It’s a little red, but I don’t see any bite marks, and there isn’t any bug crawling on you.”
“It felt like someone pinched me.” Adam frowned and stopped rubbing his ear. “Kind of déjà vu. Reminded me of Grandma. She would do that when she was annoyed with me.”
Danielle arched a brow at Marie.
Lily glanced around the office wondering, Is Marie here?
Marie shrugged down at Danielle. “I love the boy, but sometimes he says the most oafish things. Lily dear is pregnant; she needs to be pampered.”
“We’re here to see if you can recommend a painter…someone who might be available, like, now?” Danielle told Adam as she took a seat next to Lily.
Adam sat back down in his desk chair. “A painter for what?”
“Ian was supposed to paint the nursery this week, but he had to go to California again. My folks are going to be here next week, and I really wanted to have the room painted by then.”
“Are your parents staying in the room?” Adam asked. “I know your other bedroom is Ian’s office now.”
“No. They’re staying with us, in the downstairs bedroom,” Danielle explained. “They don’t really have a guest room anymore, not with the spare room being turned into a nursery. Plus, the downstairs bedroom at Marlow House is comfortable; it has its own private bathroom.”
“Just as long as you don’t charge her parents,” Adam tease
d. “Or I’m telling your neighbor you’re running a B and B again.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Har, har. Anyway, who said I’m feeding them breakfast?”
Adam chuckled. “True.”
“So do you know anyone?” Lily asked.
“I’m having one of our rentals painted, and the painter I use can’t get to it for three weeks. He’s really backed up.”
Lily groaned. “It is just one room.”
Adam looked at Danielle. “Why don’t you paint it?”
“She offered,” Lily said.
Danielle shrugged. “She won’t let me.”
“Why not?” Adam asked.
“Because I’m not a terrific housepainter. To be honest, I kinda suck at it.”
“You know who was a good housepainter?” Adam asked.
“No. But do you think they can do it?” Lily asked.
“I seriously doubt it. It was my grandma,” Adam said.
“Oh, Adam, how sweet you remember,” Marie cooed.
“Marie?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. When she was younger, she always did her own painting. At least, the interior. She told me once that before Grandpa, she dated a guy who was a housepainter, and he taught her some tricks.”
“He certainly did,” Marie snickered. “And it wasn’t just about painting.”
Danielle’s eyes widened; she looked up at Marie.
Marie shrugged again. “I was young once.”
“But you know who might be able to do it, Bill. If it’s just one room, he should be able to whip it out in a day,” Adam suggested.
Lily wrinkled her nose. “Bill? Is he any good?”
“I imagine he’s better than Danielle.” Adam flashed Danielle a grin then looked back at Lily. “You want me to have him stop by your house?”
“Yeah. I guess. I already have the paint, brushes and rollers. It’s all sitting in the room. Ian and Walt moved all the furniture out of the nursery before Ian left.” The truth was, Walt did most of the moving—without actually touching anything, while Ian watched in fascination. Of course, she couldn’t tell Adam that.
The Ghost and the Baby Page 21
