When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed the door to Mitch’s place was ajar and she could hear voices coming from inside. Her first impulse was to flee up the stairs to her own condo, where Ian was, but when she looked over to the parking lot, she saw the Frederickport police car.
Curious, she walked over to Mitch’s open doorway and peeked inside. Sitting on Mitch’s sofa were Brian Henderson and Joe Morelli, sorting through several file boxes.
“Some businesses keep a second set of books; Mitcham obviously kept a second set of client files,” Kelly heard Brian say.
Not wanting to be seen, she stepped out of the doorway’s view, listening.
“Talk about someone playing both sides,” Joe said. “Looks like that tip the chief got about Mitcham working for Morris was spot on. Over the last few years Morris paid Mitcham a small fortune to investigate potential members and their families.”
“If Mitcham wasn’t so meticulous in his record keeping, there wouldn’t be a paper trail. Looks like he was always paid in cash,” Brian noted.
Nervously, Kelly nibbled on her lower lip, her ear close to the partially opened doorway.
“Considering what he was being paid, between Morris and the clients who hired him to spy on Morris, I wonder what he did with his money,” Joe said.
“By his credit card records—all those trips to Vegas and the Indian casinos—and the pile of lottery tickets in his trash can, I’d say Mr. Mitcham had a gambling problem.”
“Well, look here…” Kelly heard Joe say. She was tempted to peek into the doorway, but kept herself out of sight.
“Apparently, Kelly Bartley was one of Mitcham’s assignments. According to the notes in this file, Morris got wind of the exposé Ian was working on, and Morris paid him to move into her complex, to spy on her.”
Keeping perfectly still, Kelly found herself holding her breath and closing her eyes, not wanting to be discovered.
“Bingo,” Brian said. “Apparently, someone did hire Mitcham to kill Morris. And you’ll never guess who.”
Kelly opened her eyes and listened.
“JusticeNow. Talk about working both sides.”
While he may have retired his cowboy boots for the rainy season, Will Wayne still clung to his cowboy hat. The western persona he had created those many years ago had become a part of who he was. As a gentleman does, he had removed his hat the moment he entered the front lobby of the Frederickport Police Department. He carried his cattleman hat in one hand and his cane in the other, using it to help steady his way.
The woman from the front desk led him to the chief’s office, after informing her boss of his arrival. She left him alone in the office with the chief, who sat behind the desk.
“Please sit down,” MacDonald said after standing up and greeting Will.
When both men were seated, Will reached into his jacket’s inside pocket and removed an envelope. “I received this in the mail.” Leaning forward, he placed the opened envelope on the desktop and pushed it toward MacDonald. “It came on Saturday, but I didn’t see it until yesterday.”
MacDonald leaned forward and picked up the envelope, looking at it as he flipped it from side to side. “What is it?”
Will nodded toward the envelope in MacDonald’s hand. “Just read it.”
With a curious frown, MacDonald removed the letter before tossing its envelope to the desk. Leaning back, he unfolded the sheet of paper and began to read.
Will thought the room unbearably quiet. Considering the amount of time MacDonald spent reading the letter, Will was certain the police chief had read and re-read it, numerous times.
Finally, MacDonald refolded the sheet of paper and gently placed it atop the envelope on his desk. He looked at Will. “Do you know who sent this to you?”
Will shook his head. “I keep thinking it had to have been Logan Mitcham, because he’s the only one I ever discussed killing Morgan with—and he brought up the conversation, I didn’t. But this morning, I heard the news about the police finding Logan Mitcham’s body and that it had been on the beach for a few days; so it couldn’t have been him.”
“Well, it could have been sent by Mitcham. We think he was killed sometime Friday, after Morris was murdered. Whoever mailed this to you could have mailed it on Friday, if it arrived on Saturday.”
“I didn’t hire a hit on Peter Morris; I need you to know that.”
“Why are you bringing me this?”
“I…I want to be upfront with the police. Complete disclosure. At this point, I don’t know if Isabella died of natural causes or not, but even if I thought Morris had her killed, I would never do something like hire a hit man. What good would that do? Earthbound Spirits would still be here, living on after Morris was gone. Taking advantage of other vulnerable people. Remove Morris, and someone else just replaces him.”
MacDonald picked up the letter. “I appreciate you bringing this to me. I’d like to keep it.”
“Certainly.”
The moment Danielle walked into the police chief’s office, MacDonald looked up and set his cellphone on his desk.
“I was just getting ready to call you,” he told her. “What did you do, sneak past the front girl?”
“I’m curious: if Joe was sitting at the front desk, would you ask me if I slipped by the front boy?”
MacDonald chuckled. “Point taken.”
“Anyway, your security is really slipping around here.” Danielle sat down.
“That’s what Lily told me. Speaking of Lily, have you talked to her?”
“Talked to her? Just this morning, at breakfast, why?”
“Have you spoken to her within the last thirty minutes?” he asked.
“No. She’s at the dentist, having a root canal.”
“Kelly is missing,” he announced.
Danielle frowned. “What do you mean, Kelly is missing?”
“Brian and Joe spent last night, and most of this morning, going through Logan Mitcham’s office and home. They came across some information that they needed to question Kelly about. But when they went to her apartment, she wasn’t there. According to Ian, when he got out of the shower this morning, she was gone. But she didn’t take her purse or cellphone. Just her car keys.”
“Gone?” Danielle stood up abruptly. “Has she been kidnapped? Did Mitcham’s killer grab her?”
“According to one of the neighbors Brian talked to, they saw Kelly getting into her car and driving off about the same time Ian says he was in the shower.”
Danielle sat back down. “But why would she just leave without her purse or phone? Without telling her brother where she was going?”
“I’ve no idea, and neither does Ian. I also had a visit from Will Wayne this morning.” MacDonald picked up Will’s letter and tossed it across the desk to Danielle. “He brought me this. Says it came in the mail over the weekend. Insists he never hired a hit man.”
Danielle quietly picked up the letter and began to read. When she was done, she looked across the desk at MacDonald and frowned.
“When I interviewed Will after Morris’ murder, he told me Mitcham offered to hook him up with a hit man, but Will insists he told him he wasn’t interested. And then he gets this blackmail letter, a few days after Morris’ death.”
Danielle didn’t respond immediately. After considering all the recent events, she said, “None of this makes sense. Has Brian and Joe found anything useful in Portland?”
“They found information that confirms what Adam told us. Mitcham had been working for Morris. He was hired to investigate potential members. I guess he had quite an extensive file on both you and Chris. Apparently, according to Mitcham’s notes, Morris had written you off and refocused his attention on Chris. He also got wind of Ian and Kelly’s investigation. Apparently, he moved to that condo specifically to be near Kelly and spy on her.”
“Kelly…where is Kelly?” Danielle murmured.
“Hopefully, she just ran to the grocery store or something, and
there’s a simple explanation.”
“Are they any closer to figuring out who killed Mitcham? Do you think this person was working with Mitcham to kill Morris, or was Mitcham killed in retaliation for killing Morris?”
MacDonald leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. “This is what they’ve pieced together so far. It looks like Mitcham was working exclusively for Morris, getting paid well for investigating possible donors. But then Earthbound Spirits started having some money issues.”
“Money issues?”
“Things started falling apart right after Christmas, after Cleve killed himself. Not sure what happened exactly, but Earthbound Spirits’ funds weren’t where they were supposed to be.”
“Are you saying there was missing money? Someone was embezzling?”
“That and some poor investments. Even before Cleve’s death, wealthy members started backing away from the group. Donations stopped.”
“Maybe they realized it was a scam?”
“Perhaps. Funds were tight for Morris; he couldn’t really afford Mitcham anymore, but he couldn’t afford not to use him. So they made a deal. Mitcham would be compensated for whatever donations he helped facilitate. He would no longer be paid upfront, but by a percentage of the donation after it came in.”
“So basically, he was working on commission.”
“Exactly. But it appears that after the first of the year, things started to change. Up until that point, Mitcham had been hiring himself out to people who had a grievance with Earthbound Spirits. He sold himself as someone who wanted to take the cult down. But the truth was, he was feeding false information to his clients.”
“Up until that point; so something changed?”
“Not only did he start giving his clients the real dirt on Earthbound Spirits and Morris—he fed them false negative information. Like with Will Wayne. The notes Joe and Brian found in Wayne’s file verify what I thought all along. Morris had nothing to do with Isabella’s death.”
“So Mitcham lied to Will.”
“It seems as if Mitcham realized the tide had changed for his boss—the gravy train was about to come to an end. According to his notes, he was going to do something that would be his big payday, and he could retire.”
“What was that?” Danielle asked.
“That’s the problem. I’m not really sure.”
“If it was to murder Morris and then blackmail Will for it, the money demand in the letter isn’t really something he could retire on,” Danielle noted.
“Not unless the blackmailer considers that the first installment.”
“But unless he has something to prove Will hired the hitman, it seems like wasted energy. I would think if he had anything, Will wouldn’t have brought you the letter.”
“True—unless Wayne is the one who killed Mitcham. Since finding Morris’ body, Mitcham’s house and office have been under surveillance. There was no way for the killer to get in and destroy any evidence. Bringing me this letter might be Wayne’s way of making himself look innocent if we happen to find something incriminating.”
Danielle stood up. “I just don’t see Will hiring a hit man and then killing him.”
“When I spoke to Wayne the first time about Mitcham, it was after Morris was killed. Consider this: Mitcham does the hit for Wayne and then immediately goes to Wayne and blackmails him. Instead of paying Mitcham, Wayne kills him. Wayne doesn’t know Mitcham carelessly left behind a bloody fingerprint. When I show up after the murder, and start asking questions about Mitcham, Wayne tosses out the story about Mitcham offering to set him up with a hit man. His way of throwing us off, just like with this letter.”
“If Mitcham blackmailed him in person, and Wayne killed him, what about the blackmail letter? Why send a letter?”
“Maybe Mitcham didn’t send the letter—maybe Wayne wrote it himself,” the chief suggested.
Danielle began pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “No. That doesn’t make sense.”
“I admit it has some holes,” MacDonald conceded.
“Like Swiss cheese.” Danielle took a deep breath and exhaled. “This is freaking driving me nuts. There is only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to talk to Logan Mitcham.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The first thing Danielle noticed was the distinct odor, a combination of chemicals and death. It made her nose twitch. The smell got stronger as she made her way down the hallway. MacDonald assured her there was no one at the morgue; they had all gone out for lunch. However, she could hear voices just beyond the doorway. Someone was here—and they were shouting, or simply arguing loudly. Either way, she knew they were just inside the room she was about to enter.
Steeling her courage, she approached the door, reached out, and gripped its handle. She would normally take a deep breath to calm herself, but that was not an option. She had no desire to drink in more of the noxious fumes than was absolutely necessary.
The moment she opened the door, her fears were confirmed. While she knew the bodies of both Peter Morris and Logan Mitcham were still at the morgue, she had hoped the only spirit still lingering would be Mitcham’s. He was the only one she needed to talk to.
For whatever reason, they both remained, and judging by the angry verbal exchange, they were unhappy with each other. She wondered if that was why they were both still here—Mitcham had followed his body to the morgue before Morris had time to move on, and seeing each other, the two had clashed, keeping them both grounded to this plane while they riled at each other.
Or perhaps…neither one cared for an extremely hot climate, which Danielle suspected would be their next stop after this one.
The two spirits stopped shouting at each other the moment Danielle walked into the room. She had made the decision before opening the door to pretend not to see them. Since their death, both had been surrounded by people who could not see them, such as police officers and members of the coroner’s office, so she didn’t imagine they would find her inability to see them unusual.
“What’s she doing here?” Morris asked.
Ignoring both spirits, Danielle walked over to a chair and sat down. She took out her cellphone and pretended to be surfing.
“Looks like she’s waiting for someone,” Mitcham said.
Morris quickly lost interest in Danielle and turned his attention back to Mitcham. The two men began shouting at each other again. If she had hoped to learn anything from their exchange, she was sorely disappointed. While they confirmed what she already suspected—the private detective had murdered Peter Morris—she learned nothing new.
After ten minutes, Danielle had had enough. If the smell didn’t make her throw up, the shouting was sure to make her head explode. Annoyed, she stood up, shoved her cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans, and faced the men.
“Shut up!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You two are driving me freaking nuts! Just shut up!”
Both spirits froze, their screaming silenced. Slowly, they turned to face her.
Danielle smiled smugly and sat back down, primly crossing her legs. “Perhaps we can now have a civil conversation?”
“You can hear us?” Mitcham asked. “Like Glandon. He heard me.”
“Ahh…you recognized Chris, did you?” Danielle smiled. “Yes, he’s like me, we can see spirits.”
“Why can’t anyone else see us?” Morris asked.
“Umm…maybe because you’re dead?”
“You don’t have to be so snotty,” Mitcham grumbled.
Danielle laughed. “Seriously?” she pointed to Morris. “This one talks people into killing themselves for money, and you kill people for money. So, how’s it feel guys, being dead? All cracked up to what you’d thought it would be?”
“Why are you here?” Morris asked.
“I want to know who killed your friend here. We already know who killed you.”
“He’s not my friend,” Morris snapped. He gla
red at Mitcham and asked Danielle, “And how do you know who killed me?”
“Your PI here left his fingerprint behind—on my fence. A bloody fingerprint, your blood.”
“I’m glad he’s dead, I just don’t want him here!” Morris shouted.
“So who killed him?”
“I know why he died.” Morris laughed.
“Oh shut up,” Mitcham snapped.
“Go on,” Danielle said, now crossing her arms across her chest as she watched the two agitated spirits pace the room.
“It was greed!” Morris shouted.
Mitcham laughed. “Greed? You’re accusing me of being greedy? You, who couldn’t wait for someone to die of natural causes to get ahold of their money?”
“How did greed get Mr. Mitcham here killed?” Danielle asked.
“He had this brilliant scheme,” Morris said sarcastically. “He wanted to convince all those people who had once hired him to investigate me to hire a hit man and take me out. Of course, they wouldn’t know he was the hit man.”
“Wait a minute,” Danielle said. “From what I understand, Mr. Mitcham here, while on your payroll, initially told most of those folks he couldn’t find anything on Earthbound Spirits.”
“So?” Mitcham asked. “I told them I couldn’t find anything that would stick in a court of law, which just made them more frustrated—it should’ve made them more willing to seek justice in another way.”
“Are you saying more than one person hired you to kill Morris?”
Morris laughed. “Logan’s plan didn’t go quite like he thought it would, which rather pissed him off. Although, he did get one person to bite.”
“So, I could’ve still made them pay!” Mitcham insisted.
“And how was that?” Danielle asked.
“With Peter murdered, and what I had on my clients, I’m sure I could have gotten money from most of them.”
“Are you saying you intended to frame them for Morris’ murder?”
The Ghost of Valentine Past Page 25
