Danielle dabbed the corner of her toast into the egg’s yolk before taking a bite. Everyone at the table seemed to be talking at once, discussing their upcoming day, rehashing the events of the past week, and tallying up reasons to believe Patricia and Richard were probably siblings. She wasn’t joining in on any of the conversations; her thoughts were elsewhere.
“Dani, are you going to answer the question?” Lily asked impatiently.
Danielle looked up from her plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. What were you asking?”
“Patricia wanted to know if you really thought Earthbound Spirits knew Stoddard’s will wasn’t fake.”
“You were talking about Earthbound Spirits?” Danielle hadn’t noticed the conversation turning in that direction. She glanced around, all eyes were on her. Lily sat at the dining room table with her and the guests of Marlow House.
Danielle set her fork on her plate and looked down the table at Richard, who silently waited for her answer. “I’m afraid I do. They had to have known. Clarence Renton prepared both wills for Isabella, and he became a member of the group after he went to prison. I really don’t believe he would have kept that a secret from Morris, do you Richard?”
“I always understood Mr. Renton was just eager to help Earthbound Spirits, and he made a poor decision.”
Danielle smiled and picked up her fork again. “Oh, I believe Clarence made a number of poor decisions, yet I don’t think this was one of them.”
“You told me why you don’t believe in Earthbound Spirit’s ideologies,” Richard said with a shy smile. Both he and Danielle were thinking of what she had told him—that she believed in ghosts. “Do you really have a specific reason? I mean, I understand just not believing. I remember once reading there are over 4,000 religions in the world. Can’t say I have a specific reason for not believing in them, maybe because I don’t know anything about them.”
“There are some things Earthbound Spirits may have gotten right—I believe there’s something after this life. The reincarnation thing? Maybe, I don’t know. Other religions believe in reincarnation. But I don’t believe we should waste the time we have on earth trying to get to that other place. We’ll get there soon enough. Our life here is a gift, and I don’t believe we should squander it—or shorten it, like Clarence did. Unlike Earthbound Spirits, I do believe in a higher power—a God.”
Patricia reached over and patted Richard’s hand. “I believe in God, because he’s answered my prayers.”
“I think the biggest issue I have with Earthbound Spirits,” Danielle continued. “Is how Morris coerces his members to make large donations and leave all their money to the group after they die. And what does the group really do with the money?”
“Money means nothing. It’s never brought me happiness,” Richard insisted. “And if the money can help others find the truth after I’m gone, then isn’t that the right thing to do?”
“If you want to find happiness now with your money, follow Chris’ example, become a philanthropist. Help feed the hungry, get involved with a worthwhile environmental issue, create jobs—do something with your money that helps other people, here and now, in this life. I guarantee that will buy you a measure of happiness,” Danielle suggested.
Flames flickered and curled in the library fireplace. The house was quiet. Walt lounged on the sofa, reading the book Danielle had given him for Christmas.
“Aren’t you worried about someone walking in here and seeing that floating over the sofa?” Chris asked as he walked into the room.
Walt closed the book and set it on his lap. He looked up at Chris. “I knew it was you. Everyone else is gone.”
“How do you know everyone is gone?” Chris headed for the fireplace to warm his hands.
“Danielle went down to the police station. Lily and Ian took Sadie for a walk on the beach; Richard took Patricia and Jessica out for ice cream, and Joanne has already gone home. It’s just you and me, and Max.”
Standing before the fireplace, his back to Walt, Chris reached out and rubbed his hands together, warming them.
“What does a philanthropist do exactly?” Walt asked.
Chris stopped rubbing his hands together and turned from the fire, facing Walt. “In my case, you might say I just give away money.”
“To whom, exactly?
Chris sat down facing Walt. “I’ve never set up my own foundation, instead I give to charities, ones I’ve researched and feel are legit.”
“What happens when your money runs out?”
Chris grinned. “I really don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“Where are you headed after you leave here?”
“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of maybe sticking around here.”
“You aren’t planning to leave?” Walt frowned.
“I wasn’t talking about living in Marlow House indefinitely. I was thinking of getting my own place somewhere in the area.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want me to stay?” Chris asked.
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Then why are you asking me what I’m going to do?”
“I’m curious. Doesn’t mean I care.” Walt shrugged.
Chris studied Walt for a minute. “So tell me, Walt, what’s the deal with you and Danielle?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Maybe I should be asking, why are you still here? Why haven’t you moved on? If I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with Danielle.”
“Marlow House is my home.”
“Does that mean you plan to stay here forever?”
“Of course not.” Walt snapped.
“Hey, don’t get defensive. I was just curious too. Then tell me, what’s up with Joe? He seems to be a little territorial over Danielle.”
“She dated him a few times, when she first moved here.”
“What happened? He obviously still has a thing for her.”
“He arrested her for murder.”
“Excuse me?”
“For her cousin’s murder. Now that I think about it, for Stoddard’s too. There might be a few other murders he arrested her for, but it’s hard to keep them all straight.”
“Are you joking?”
“I wish I was.” Walt tossed the book on the coffee table and looked over at Chris. “Joe doesn’t know about Danielle’s—gift. And when certain things have happened because of it, he has a tendency to think the worse. I think he cares for her, but he has no faith in her.”
“Sounds like a jerk.”
Walt didn’t comment.
“Is it true, does the police chief really know about Danielle?”
“If you mean how she can see spirits, yes.”
Danielle pulled her red Ford Flex into the Frederickport Police Department parking lot. She had called the chief earlier that morning, telling him when she would be in. He was under the impression she would be bringing along Chris, Richard, Patricia, and Lily, to be interviewed again. Danielle didn’t correct his misconception. She figured it would be easier to explain it all at once.
When she walked into the front office of the police station, she found the chief standing at the front desk with Joe and Brian. The three men stopped talking when she entered, and turned toward her.
Danielle glanced at the empty chair at the desk. “Where’s Marsha?”
“She doesn’t work here anymore.” Joe glanced over Danielle’s shoulder and then asked, “Where is everyone else? Did they take a separate car?”
“How long hasn’t she been working here?” Danielle asked.
“I’m surprised you care; I thought you didn’t like her,” Brian said.
“It wasn’t that I disliked her exactly; I just felt she was grossly incompetent. Her inability to relay a simple message almost got me killed.”
“She’s been gone for a couple weeks,” the chief said. “So where is everyone?”
“I need to talk to you first, Chief.” Danielle looked over at Brian
and Joe, and then back to the chief. “Alone.”
“Since we have a dead body that looks like it might be your missing guest and Chris Glandon seemed to have an issue with her, I have to say this doesn’t look good on him not coming in like he promised,” Joe told her.
Danielle sighed. “Chris didn’t promise anything—I did. He didn’t even know the chief wanted him to come in today.”
“You told me you were going to bring him with you.” The chief sounded annoyed.
“Chief, please. In your office, alone,” Danielle said impatiently.
Joe and Brian watched as Chief MacDonald motioned for Danielle to follow him.
“I don’t get those two,” Brian said when Danielle and MacDonald were out of earshot.
Joe frowned. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve become so—chummy. I can’t help but wonder if there’s something going on there.”
“Would you stop saying that,” Joe said impatiently. “Anyway, the chief’s dating Carol Ann. Don’t be ridiculous; he’s not Danielle’s type.”
Brian snickered. “What is her type? You?”
MacDonald closed his office door and said, “This better be good, Danielle.”
“I know who the dead body is. And it isn’t Anna.” Danielle remained standing and watched as the chief took a chair behind his desk.
He motioned for her to sit down. “Go on.”
“Her name is Beatrice Montgomery, and she was traveling up the coast with her husband Herbert, in a rented motor home. They fought, and he pushed her off a cliff into the ocean.”
“You know this how?”
“Seriously, Chief? You can’t figure it out?”
MacDonald sighed. “You talked to her?”
“Actually, it was your fault.”
“My fault? How?” He frowned.
“Her spirit must have been hanging around her body when it was found on the beach. When I saw her, she was at that stage where she doesn’t quite understand that she’s dead. She tried to get the police to listen to her, and then she latched onto you.”
“What do you mean?”
“She followed you back here, trying to get your attention. She went home with you, and then she followed you to Marlow House. She showed up after the last time you were there yesterday. Came walking through the fireplace in the library.”
“Terrific.” He let out a weary sigh and leaned back in his chair.
“Personally, I’m relieved. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I feel sorry for Beatrice and all, but I really didn’t want it to be Anna.”
“I suppose I need to see if we can find anything on this Beatrice.” The chief picked up the phone.
Danielle sat quietly and waited for the chief to finish his call. When he finally hung up, she said, “Oh, and about that blood on the rug Joe took from my place, it isn’t human.”
“What is it, vampire blood? Zombie?”
“Cute. No. Rat. My sweet cat killed a rat.”
“From what I remember, your sweet cat about took my hand off.”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. He’s a sweetheart.”
“Tell that to the rat.”
Danielle shrugged.
“So, what about your missing guest?”
“Probably the most likely scenario, she simply decided to leave. I think Anna is prone to impulsive acts—like showing up on my doorstep without a reservation, just because she saw the ad. No planning. And when she felt like leaving, she just did. The only reason I ever called to make a police report was the storm. I was afraid she might be out in it somewhere, stranded.”
“And you’re sure the spirit you saw was the woman we found on the beach? After all, she wasn’t recognizable.”
“You told me she was wearing a nightgown. Any chance that nightgown was a blue floral pattern?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “As a matter of fact it was.”
“Then perhaps—”
The phone began to ring. He motioned to Danielle to hold her thought, and, then he answered the call.
When he got off the phone he said, “Last night, a Herbert Montgomery filed a missing persons report in Astoria on his wife, Beatrice. Apparently, they had an argument on Christmas night, she stormed out of their motor home, wearing just her nightgown—a blue one.”
“And he’s just reporting it now? Christmas was four days ago.”
“He said she’s taken off before, but always comes back in a couple days. When she didn’t return after three days, he figured he should report it.”
“Seriously?” Danielle scoffed. “He expects the police to believe he didn’t think there was anything odd about his wife wandering around in her nightgown for three days?”
“Hopefully we’ll be able to come up with something to prove he was responsible for his wife’s death. Thanks for all your help. Is there anything else?”
“Well, there is one thing,” Danielle said hesitantly.
“What’s that?”
“I think one of your sons may be like me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He can see ghosts.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Just as Danielle parked in front of Marlow House, she saw Richard drive off in his car. He was alone. When she walked into the library five minutes later, she asked Patricia where he had gone.
Patricia set the book she had been reading onto her lap and looked up at Danielle. She was alone in the room.
“He got a phone call from someone from Earthbound Spirits—I think he said it was Cleve Mon…umm…I don’t recall the last name.”
“Ahhh… Cleve Monchique. He’s Morris’ right hand man.” Danielle sat down. “I got the impression Richard’s been having some second thoughts about his involvement with that group.”
“He has.” Patricia smiled. “We’ve talked a lot about it the last few days. I think he was just searching for something after his parents died and he realized they’d lied to him all these years. I don’t think it was the adoption that bothered him so much, but the fact that his adoptive parents made him think he was crazy—denying his real memories.”
“I suppose adopted parents are no different from biological parents—there are good ones and bad ones.”
“That’s true. You can say the same about foster parents.”
“I suppose you would know,” Danielle said with a sigh. She then asked, “So where did Richard go, Earthbound Spirits headquarters?”
“No. Cleve asked him to meet him at some café along the highway, midway between here and Earthbound Spirits headquarters. Said he needed to discuss some upcoming event for the group.”
“So, Richard still feels attached to Earthbound Spirits?”
Patricia shook her head. “No. I think when Cleve called, Richard felt it might be the time to let them know he’s having reservations. I have a feeling Richard is a little intimidated by Peter Morris and would rather discuss this with Cleve.”
“Yeah, I get that Morris can be a little overwhelming.”
Patricia chuckled. “Richard said this would be the easy way out.”
“Sounds like this is more than just having reservations.”
Patricia smiled up at Danielle. “I don’t think Richard needs that group anymore.”
Adam Nichols sat in the corner booth of the diner, fidgeting with the iPhone. Sitting across from him was Jason Baker, the diner’s proprietor and the owner of the iPhone. He was also an old high school buddy of Adam’s.
Jason anxiously watched Adam. “This is going to be great if it works.”
“Hey, it’ll work. If it wasn’t for the camera I installed in my office, I might be in prison right now.”
“I just want to be able to keep an eye on this place when I’m not here. See what’s going on.” Jason glanced around the diner. “Can’t even see where we put the cameras.”
“This is better than what I have. I got to get this app for myself.”
“Jason, I need you back here!” A voice called out from the kitchen.<
br />
Grumbling, Jason stood up.
Holding the iPhone in one hand, Adam used his other hand to wave Jason toward the kitchen. “Go, see what they want. I’ll figure this out.”
A few minutes later, Adam grinned when a live feed came into focus on the iPhone. It was a view of an empty booth across the diner. From where he sat, it was impossible to see the booth, yet on his iPhone, he could clearly see the salt and pepper shakers sitting on the booth’s table.
When Cleve arrived at the diner, he was pleased to see it was practically empty. There was only one other customer. That man sat in a corner booth, his back to Cleve. The lunch rush had ended a few hours earlier, and it would be at least an hour before customers started showing up for dinner. Cleve intended to be gone by then. When the waitress showed up at the table he ordered two drinks—a Pepsi for Richard and iced tea for himself. He remembered Richard liked Pepsi.
After the waitress brought the drinks and went back to the kitchen, Cleve glanced around. Aside from the man with his back to him, he was the only one in the diner. He glanced at his watch. Richard was supposed to arrive in fifteen minutes. He needed to hurry, just in case he showed up early.
With shaky hands, Cleve pulled a small envelope out of his shirt pocket. He glanced around the room again. Confident he was alone, he tore open the envelope and then dumped its contents into the Pepsi.
Grabbing a spoon, he stirred the drink. Nervously, he pushed the Pepsi across the table and then picked up a paper napkin and wiped off the spoon. He folded the napkin and envelope together, stood up, walked to a nearby trashcan, and disposed of the items.
Richard arrived ten minutes later. Cleve was already back at the booth, sipping his iced tea.
“I ordered you a Pepsi,” Cleve said as Richard took a seat across from him.
“Thanks. I haven’t had a Pepsi all week.” Richard picked up the soda and took a gulp.
“How have things been going for you this week at Marlow House?” Cleve asked.
“Things haven’t gone quite as I expected they would,” Richard said with a smile.
“Peter tells me Danielle may not be quite ready to hear the truth.”
Ghost Who Came for Christmas Page 23