by Bobbi Holmes
“Where did you hear that?” Pearl asked with a frown.
“From one of the websites I found,” the woman explained.
“It’s true, but you can’t get to it. The only access is through Marlow House and a house across the street.”
“That’s very interesting,” the man said.
“It is a nuisance, that’s what it is,” Pearl snapped.
“So who lives in Marlow House now that it isn’t a bed and breakfast?” the woman asked.
“Walt and Danielle Marlow.” Pearl craned her neck and looked over at the house. “Although, I don’t think they’re home right now. I saw them leave early this morning in that Packard of theirs. It hasn’t come back.”
“Packard?” the man asked with interest.
Pearl shrugged. “One of those old cars people like to drive around to show off. But who knows, maybe they are home. They usually park their cars behind their house in the garage.”
“That woman certainly did not seem to like the Marlows,” Forrest said as he drove into the parking lot of the Seahorse Motel an hour later.
“You mean the Marlows’ busybody neighbor? No, she didn’t. We need to watch out for that one when we break into the house. Which, by the way, I think I know how we might be able to do.”
“How is that?” Forrest asked.
“There was a doggy door in that side entrance at the Marlows’. I noticed it when we were talking to that woman. I didn’t want to say anything to you about it with her standing there. But I bet I could climb through it.”
“The only problem, if you have a doggie door, it means you have a dog. Something I didn’t really count on.”
Marcella grinned at Forrest. “Didn’t you hear what that woman said? When she was complaining about her neighbor’s menacing cat, she didn’t say anything about a dog, but she did mention the other dogs in the neighborhood, like a golden retriever across the street and a pit bull a few doors down. No, I think she would have mentioned if they had a dog. It would have given her more to complain about. I bet that doggy door is really a cat door.”
“A cat is definitely less threatening than a dog,” Forrest said as they got out of the vehicle. Together he and Marcella walked to the front office of the Seahorse Motel, hoping there would be a vacancy.
When they walked into the office a few minutes later, a tall elderly gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard and a cane in hand stood at the counter, checking in. They waited quietly behind him for their turn.
“And how long will you be staying with us, Mr. Bari?” the man at the front desk asked.
Four
After leaving Mathew Jackson at Mermaid Curio, Walt and Danielle drove down the street to pick up a package for the Frederickport Museum. They then went on to do a little more Christmas shopping. Several hours later they finally returned to their car. As Danielle opened the passenger door to the Packard, she glanced at her watch and then looked over at Walt.
“We have a little time to kill before we meet Mathew for lunch. Why don’t we try to find that Winterborne house? I’m curious to see what it looks like. I wouldn’t mind taking a picture of it since that’s where our two white elephant gifts came from.”
“Do you know where it is?” Walt asked as he climbed into the car, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll try doing a search for it, and if I can’t find anything, I’ll pull up the real estate website. The way Bud was talking sounds like they have it for sale.” Danielle got into the car and flippantly added, “You should know all about that. After all, didn’t you used to be a real estate agent?”
“Cute,” Walt said dryly as he inserted the key in the ignition. The spirit who had occupied Walt’s body before him—a distant cousin who shared his name—had been a real estate agent.
Danielle fished her cellphone from her purse and began searching for the property.
“Do we still need to stop at Adam’s office after we get back into Frederickport?” Walt asked.
“Yes, and the museum, to drop off that package. But we should have plenty of time. I just assumed we’d head back to Frederickport after we have lunch with Mathew, unless you have something else you want to do.”
“No. That works for me.”
Walt pulled up in front of what appeared to be a mansion—a somewhat dilapidated mansion—with three floors, an attic, and a large for sale sign posted out front. Walt turned off the ignition and remained in the car with Danielle, looking up at the house.
“I remember it now,” Walt said.
“You know this house?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. But it looked much better back then. It’s rather run-down.”
“Do you remember who lived here?” Danielle asked.
“Vaguely. I came here a couple of times with George. It was before he was married. They had a daughter he was interested in. But her last name was not Winterborne.”
“He wasn’t going with Marie’s mother yet, I assume.”
Walt shook his head. “No. This was a few years before they started seeing each other. George and I were just teenagers at the time. He was rather smitten with the girl, from what I recall.”
“Whoever buys this house is going to have their work cut out for them. I got the impression it has been occupied all this time, until the last owner died six months ago, yet it seems to be ready to fall down. In comparison, Marlow House, empty for almost ninety years, was in relatively good shape when I moved in.”
“It wasn’t empty. I was there,” Walt reminded her.
“As a ghost, Walt. That doesn’t count.” Danielle glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time to meet Mathew. Let me take a picture before we go.”
When Walt and Danielle arrived at the restaurant, they found it decked out for the holidays, with an abundance of potted poinsettia plants, stockings hanging on the fireplace in the waiting area, and random decorations shoved in every nook and corner. Before they had a chance to give their name to the hostess, Danielle spied Mathew already sitting at a table.
“I’m so glad we were able to do this,” Mathew said a few minutes later after Walt and Danielle joined him.
“So am I. I’m also glad you were finally able to meet Walt,” Danielle said as she took a seat.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Walt chimed in. What he didn’t tell Mathew was that he had known his grandmother Emma, along with his grandfather.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you for breakfast, like you initially suggested. But I had so much to do this morning,” Mathew said.
“No problem.” Danielle picked up a menu and opened it. “I was surprised to see you over at Mermaid Curio.”
“One of my cousins wanted Grandma’s oak dresser, but then decided it wasn’t going to work. No one else in the family seemed to want it,” Mathew explained. “And the owner of the store had approached me about Grandmother’s antiques.”
“While I appreciate antiques, most of my friends aren’t that interested,” Danielle said. “They prefer something more modern.”
“Danielle tells me you finally decided to sell your grandmother’s house,” Walt said.
“Yes. Grandma has been gone for almost three years now. After she passed away, we planned to sell her house, but then we decided to keep it as a vacation home we could all enjoy. But the fact is everyone is so busy, it barely got used. It just seemed foolish to keep it, considering the upkeep.”
“And Astoria real estate, especially something as nice as your grandmother’s, I imagine you won’t have a problem selling it,” Danielle said.
“Whatever happened to my grandmother’s rocking chair?” Mathew asked. He had given Marie the rocking chair after Emma had passed away.
Danielle smiled softly. “Marie loved that chair. After she died, it bounced around for a while but eventually ended up with Lily.”
“Ahh, Lily had a baby, didn’t she?” Mathew grinned.
“She did. A little boy named Connor.”
“Grandma would have l
iked that, knowing her rocking chair was in a home with a baby. I suppose Emma and Marie are together now. They became pretty close friends that last year.”
Walt and Danielle exchanged glances but were spared having to comment when the server walked up to the table. The fact was, while Emma had moved on to be with her husband after she had died, Marie had decided to stick around. She simply was not ready to move on—and she wasn’t especially anxious to see her husband. As she had reminded Danielle, wedding vows said until death do us part. There was nothing in the contract that stated she owed her husband anything in the hereafter.
The server left to get their drink orders, and the three looked over their menus. When the server returned with their beverages, she took their food order and then left the table again.
“I feel a little spoiled today,” Danielle said with a chuckle. “Both breakfast and lunch out.”
“Since I’ve been here, I’ve been eating out every day. There is no food in Grandma’s house, and I really didn’t want to mess up the kitchen, not when we’re listing it.”
“Do you have it on the market yet?” Danielle asked.
“The real estate agent is coming over this afternoon, and we’ll be finalizing the listing contract, and he’ll be taking some pictures. Tomorrow I’m heading back home after Bud picks up the dresser.”
“If you ever come back this way, remember you always have a place to stay at Marlow House,” Danielle reminded him.
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer. And I’ll probably take you up on it.”
They continued to talk for another ten or fifteen minutes before the server brought their food. When they were alone at the table again, Mathew asked, “So what did you buy at Mermaid Curio? I noticed you put a sack in your car when I pulled up.”
Danielle told him about the shoe and the framed picture. While she described the shoe in detail, she didn’t mention Marie’s father was the man in the photograph.
“Grandma knew Eloise Winterborne; she went to her church. Grandma was far more patient with the woman than I would have been,” Mathew explained before tasting his clam chowder.
“How do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“I went to church with Grandma a few times when I’d visit, and I met Mrs. Winterborne. She made a point of telling me she had no problem with coloreds going to her church. Insisted she was quite liberal.”
Danielle cringed.
Walt reserved comment. At one time he had used the term colored, unaware that a term from the 1920s was inappropriate for the current era. In retrospect, he suspected it was probably inappropriate for the 1920s.
“Grandma would remind me that Eloise was an old woman and didn’t know any better, and that she had used the term herself,” Mathew said.
“I read Ian’s article about your grandmother and her life,” Walt interjected. “It was a fascinating read.”
“It was a beautiful tribute to my grandparents, and it showed a raw glimpse into what life was like back then. They were the grandchildren of slaves, freed but not welcome in the state of their birth,” Mathew explained.
“But your grandma stayed,” Danielle reminded him.
“Yes, but it wasn’t easy.”
“No, it wasn’t. Especially considering how active the Klan was in Oregon back then,” Walt added.
Mathew looked up to Walt and smiled. “I read your book. You might write fiction, but I think you did an amazing job depicting life back then. Of course, I didn’t live back then,” Mathew added with a laugh. “But it just seemed so real.”
Walt grinned at Mathew. “I hope you enjoyed it.”
They chatted a few more minutes about Walt’s and Ian’s writing before the conversation was brought back to the Winterbornes.
“So tell me about this Christmas shoe. Sounds quite horrid,” Mathew teased. “What are you supposed to do with it?”
“I assume it’s a decoration,” Danielle said with a shrug.
“It sounds like something Eloise would make. I remember once Grandma told me she was into all that arts and craft stuff, would take classes over at the community center. She tried to get Grandma to go with her. My grandmother found it rather amusing.”
“Amusing how?” Danielle asked.
“My grandparents worked hard all of their lives. For many years, they couldn’t afford extras. Grandma always made her children’s clothes. And at Christmastime the gifts were homemade,” Mathew explained.
“I like homemade gifts,” Danielle said. “They come from the heart.”
Mathew nodded. “I understand that. But Grandma saw it a little differently. Eloise wasn’t making homemade gifts, she was making junk to decorate her house with—like crocheted tissue boxes and embroidered dish towels. She never gave any of the stuff away.”
“That might have been kind of her,” Walt joked.
“Good point.” Mathew gave Walt a nod. “According to Grandma, Eloise Winterborne was a woman who could afford to shop wherever she wanted. Grandma just found it peculiar she preferred to make things that looked—as Grandma called them—junky. Plus, Mrs. Winterborne was quite the garage-sale addict.”
“Garage-sale addict?” Walt asked with a frown.
“Yes. Richer than Croesus, but every week she would go to all the garage sales in the area and buy up everyone’s junk. According to Grandma, she repurposed a lot of it for her craft projects.”
“So who gets her money?” Danielle asked. “I assume she still had the family fortune when she died, considering it sounds like she wasn’t out spending it at expensive stores. Unless, of course, she spent it all at garage sales and on craft supplies.”
“From what I heard, it all goes to charity. She was the last in her family, and she didn’t have anyone to leave it to. Grandma used to say that couple who took care of her would probably get the bulk of the estate. After all, they were with her for over twenty years. But from what I heard, they weren’t left a penny in the will.”
“Maybe they took care of her, but we drove by the house today,” Danielle said. “I don’t think they did a very good job of taking care of that house.”
Five
When Walt and Danielle arrived back in Frederickport on Saturday afternoon, their first stop was Frederickport Vacation Properties to see Adam Nichols. Neighbor, good friend, and wealthy philanthropist Chris Glandon, who went by the alias Chris Johnson, had gone out of town several days earlier, and he needed Danielle to sign some legal documents in his absence. The papers were at Adam’s office.
Adam’s assistant, Leslie, had taken Saturday off, so when they walked in the front door, they found Adam sitting at Leslie’s desk with Melony Carmichael sitting across from him. The two lounged casually, leaning back in the chairs, feet on the desk, while they each held a paper plate holding a liberal slice of chocolate cake. Neither attempted to stand when Walt and Danielle walked through the doorway. Instead, Adam took another bite of cake while Melony waved her fork at them in greeting before digging the utensil back into chocolate frosting.
Surveying the situation, Danielle shook her head in mock rebuke as she tossed her purse on an empty chair. “Goofing off. Is this what you do when Leslie is gone?”
“It’s double fudge chocolate cake—from Old Salts,” Melony said in a conspiratorial tone. Respected attorney Melony Carmichael, looked more fashion model than lawyer, with her naturally long blond hair, stunning blue eyes, and shapely figure.
“Danielle’s recipe?” Walt asked hopefully.
Melony nodded. “And I think they have mastered it.” She pointed to a table on the other side of the office. “There is more.”
“Hey,” Adam said with a scowl. “They can’t have any!”
“I bought it,” Melony reminded him as she took another bite.
“Fine,” Adam said in mock outrage before turning a smile on the pair. “Help yourself.”
Walt didn’t have to be told twice, but Danielle declined the offer. She was still full from lunch.
“I s
uppose I should have called you,” Adam said as he took his feet off the desk and sat up straighter.
“You don’t need me to sign those papers?” Danielle asked. She picked up the purse she had set on the chair a moment earlier and moved it to the floor before sitting down.
“Chris came back early,” Melony explained. “He stopped in about an hour ago and signed the papers himself.”
“No problem,” Walt said, taking a bite of the cake.
“Of course not, you got cake,” Danielle teased.
The four friends sat around the front office desk while three of them ate double fudge chocolate cake.
“So how was your visit with Mathew?” Adam asked.
“It was nice. But I’m a little sad to think they’re selling Emma’s house. Do you know the Realtor he’s using?”
“Of course, I referred him,” Adam said with a Cheshire cat grin.
“Ahh, so you’ll get a commission,” Danielle said.
Adam only smiled in response and took another bite of cake.
“Did you get any Christmas shopping done?” Melony asked.
“We did. In fact, we picked up our white elephant gifts,” Danielle told them.
“What did you get? I haven’t gotten mine yet,” Adam said.
“They can’t tell us,” Melony told him. “That would spoil it.”
Adam shrugged. “It’s just going to be something no one wants anyway.”
“Scrooge,” Melony teased.
“Do either of you know anything about the Winterbornes from Astoria?” Danielle asked impulsively.
Melony had just finished her last bite of cake. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and then asked, “You mean Eloise Winterborne?”
“So you knew her?” Danielle asked.
Melony nodded. “Yeah. Sort of. My father’s law firm used to represent her. But after Dad died, I don’t think she cared much for Clarence. She changed lawyers, according to what my mother told me back then. Why do you ask?”
