by Bobbi Holmes
“Like a treasure hunt?” Danielle asked.
Twenty-Six
Danielle stood on Elizabeth Sparks’s front porch, holding a tin of cookies. She rang the doorbell. Several minutes later the door opened.
“Danielle, what a surprise!” Elizabeth greeted her.
“I’m really sorry to just barge in like this without calling first,” Danielle said, holding out the tin. “But I thought maybe you’d forgive me for some chocolate drop cookies.”
Elizabeth laughed and accepted the tin. “Hey, chocolate is my weakness. Please come in.” Elizabeth opened the door wider. Just as Danielle stepped into the living room, she noticed an older man walking out from the kitchen.
“Danielle, this is my dad. My parents got here about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh, gee, now I really am sorry for just barging in without calling first,” Danielle said.
“No problem,” Elizabeth assured her. She then looked at her father and said, “Dad, this is my friend Danielle Marlow. She owns Marlow House. Remember, I told you about her. She’s the one who donated the rooms for the fundraiser.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sparks,” Danielle said, extending her hand in greeting.
“Nice to meet any friend of my daughter’s,” he said, shaking her hand. “But please, call me Jim.”
Several minutes later Mrs. Sparks walked into the room and there were more introductions. Ten minutes later, Danielle sat alone in the living room with Elizabeth while Mr. and Mrs. Sparks went to the guest bedroom to finish unpacking.
“Before my mother comes back, I wanted to ask, please don’t say anything about the stalker,” Elizabeth whispered.
“You haven’t told her?” Danielle asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. The more I think about it, I just overreacted. As far as I know, that man might have been visiting one of my neighbors when I saw him in front of the house. I know the people across the street have family for the holidays, and some of them are staying at a local motel. So maybe he’s just some cousin of theirs that I happened to see when he is coming or going.”
“I did say something to the chief about it when I saw him yesterday,” Danielle said with a cringe.
“That’s okay. He called me last night, asked me about it. We talked, and he agreed, it was probably nothing. After all, Frederickport is small, and if one of my neighbors has visiting relatives, it would not be unusual to run into them downtown.”
“But I suppose it is always a good thing to be aware of what is going on around us,” Danielle noted.
“So tell me, are you just delivering cookies, or did you want to talk to me about something?”
“I want to ask you about the Hoopers,” Danielle whispered.
Elizabeth frowned. “Marcella and Forrest?”
“I guess that’s their name.” Danielle glanced to the hallway leading to the guest room and back to Elizabeth.
“What about them?”
“I’m going to tell you something and ask you, please don’t tell anyone I told you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Okay. What?”
“I can’t tell you how I know, but Marcella Hooper broke into Marlow House. I think she might have broken in twice.”
“Broke into your house? Why?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Danielle explained.
“Are you sure it was her? I know they got really snotty with me after they found out they hadn’t been mentioned in the will, but I just can’t imagine Marcella doing something like that. And why?”
“All I can tell you, someone—who for his own reasons does not want to come forward—saw her in our house.”
“You say she broke in twice?” Elizabeth asked.
“The first time was when Chris’s house was on fire. When we got home, we walked in and found the first floor of Marlow House ransacked. Someone had gone through all the rooms on the first floor. It was like they were looking for something. But we haven’t noticed anything missing. In fact, there was some money sitting out, and it was not touched.”
“And someone saw Marcella in the house then?” Elizabeth asked.
Danielle shook her head. “No. But then later, someone saw her going through some packages in our downstairs bedroom. They were recent purchases Heather had picked up for Chris. We think Chris’s dog might have scared her off that time—but we know she was in the house.”
“But why?”
“We think she was looking for what we bought from the estate when we were in Astoria. I talked to the shop owner, and he confirmed they had been in the shop wanting to look through the items, and they knew we had bought some things.”
“That doesn’t even make sense. Why would they want a decorated shoe?” Elizabeth asked.
“It was a shoe and a framed picture. But I don’t think we have what they were looking for—I think they think we have it. But according to the shop owner, there were some items from the trunk he had forgotten about—that they didn’t see when they were in the shop. I think they were there to get one of those items. I’m just trying to figure out what it is—and why they want it.”
Elizabeth leaned back on the sofa and shook her head. “This is all kinds of bizarre.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Did Eloise have anything of value that the Hoopers might have wanted—something they would be willing to break in Marlow House to get?”
“Like I told you before, I never went into Eloise’s house. But I know people who knew her, and they all said the same thing, she had a lot of useless junk. Oh, I guess some of the furniture was pretty nice—that all belonged to her husband’s family—but nothing that someone could walk off with. Aside from some of the furniture, I don’t think she had anything of real value. From what I heard, her husband’s family was frugal—they didn’t have nice silver or china. Of course, antique china is not really worth much these days. You can pick up anything on eBay for practically nothing.”
“I heard she had a valuable engagement ring,” Danielle said.
“Ahh, yes. I forgot about that. It was beautiful. Quite stunning, and I heard it was worth a fortune. Eloise always wore it, but then her arthritis got so bad that she couldn’t wear it anymore. I think that is why she sold it.”
“I heard she was afraid the Hoopers were going to steal it,” Danielle said.
Elizabeth laughed. “That was not going to happen. Eloise had her attorney hire a firm that inventoried the house every year—just to make sure all her precious things were still there. Personally, I think the Hoopers were relieved when she sold that ring.”
“Why do you say that?” Danielle asked.
“If she had lost it, she might have blamed them for taking it. But Eloise sold it, informed her attorney, told them to take it off the inventory list.”
“And that was the only thing of value she had?” Danielle asked.
“Unless, of course, Eloise managed to pick up some priceless artifact at some yard sale. Something the Hoopers realized had value. I suppose that is always possible,” Elizabeth suggested.
“If that was the case, then why not take it after she died, and before the executor came in to sell everything off?”
Elizabeth smiled at Danielle. “Eloise was a sweet little lady—but she had her peculiar quirks.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.”
“One was her obsessive need to inventory all her belongings. Each week, after returning from a yard sale, Eloise would have Marcella photograph all of her purchases and then fax them to the attorney to add to her inventory.”
“Seriously?” Danielle asked.
“The Winterborne estate was worth a fortune, and her lawyer bent over backwards to keep her happy. So if she did pick up something at a yard sale, the Hoopers couldn’t just walk off with it later. They would need to explain where it went.”
“But after Eloise died, would the executor really care about all that junk she bought from yard sales?” Danielle asked.
“
From what I heard, Eloise’s executor went out of his way to follow her instructions down to the last detail. There was a lot of money involved—and the executor would be getting a hefty share for his work. If some long-lost relative showed up to claim a portion of the estate, he did not want anyone to raise doubts as to how he handled things. From what I understood, if the Hoopers wanted anything—even if it was a chipped coffee cup—they would have to bid for it at auction like everyone else.”
The next moment Mrs. Sparks walked into the room carrying a plate of cookies. “I thought you and your friend might like a little snack.” She set the plate on the coffee table.
Danielle looked down at the bar cookies and smiled. “Are those Magic Bar cookies?”
“They are,” Elizabeth said, picking up the plate. She offered one to Danielle as her mother took a seat in a nearby chair.
“We were just talking about these yesterday,” Danielle said as she took a cookie.
“You were?” Elizabeth asked as she took one for herself and then set the plate back on the table.
“Yes. We were decorating sugar cookies yesterday,” Danielle explained. “In fact, after we were done, I swore I was never having anything sweet again.” She then took a bite and said, “I lied.”
“Magic Bar cookies are sort of our family’s traditional Christmas cookie,” Elizabeth explained. “It can’t be Christmas if we don’t have Magic Bar cookies.”
“It’s just because I’m not much of a baker,” Mrs. Sparks said. “And these are easy to make.”
Over in Astoria, Cindy Mae was helping her older sister, June, at the thrift store when two men walked in the front door.
“Oh my gawd, June,” Cindy Mae gasped under her breath as she grabbed hold of her sister’s wrist.
“What is it?” June frowned, glancing in the direction her sister was staring.
“Look what just walked in. Oh my gawd, who are they?” Cindy Mae groaned.
“Gorgeous, that’s what they are. They have to be brothers,” June said.
“One for each of us. I am taking the younger one,” Cindy Mae said, finally releasing hold of her sister’s wrist. The two women immediately stood up a little straighter, quickly combed their fingers through their hair in an attempt to neaten their appearance, and pasted smiles on their faces while readjusting their stances to best display their figures.
“Hello, may I help you?” Cindy Mae purred when the men reached the counter.
“Hi,” the younger-looking one said with a smile, showing off straight white teeth. “I understand Mermaid Curio sent some stuff over here the other day—from the Winterborne estate auction?”
Cindy Mae leaned over the counter toward the men, propping her hands along the counter’s edge as she attempted to reveal some cleavage. “Yeah. But it was a bunch of junk. We haven’t put it out yet. I bet I can find you something else you would really like.”
Twenty-Seven
A tightly fitting black baseball cap replaced Pearl’s favorite cloche hat. She felt it a more sensible choice for what she needed to do. It would better shield her from the afternoon sun while she made the necessary repairs. The cap would also prevent wisps of her shortly cut gray hair from straying into her eyes, something she found exceedingly annoying. She wore denim overalls and a black turtleneck sweater. She had intended to replace her tennis shoes for her work boots with the thick tread soles, but when she realized they were upstairs, she decided not to go up to fetch them—a decision she would come to regret.
Pearl dragged the ladder from the toolshed to the front of her house, grumbling all the way about the crook she had paid to hang her Christmas lights. She had called him about the drooping strand of lights, leaving a message on his machine. He had only called her back this morning, and that was to tell her it would cost her fifty bucks for him to come back to fix the lights. According to him, he couldn’t be responsible for wind damage.
“There was no wind damage,” Pearl said with a curse as she propped the ladder along the front of the house. “We haven’t even had any wind! Stupid man just did a poor job the first time. If he thinks I’m going to pay him to fix his mistake, he’s crazy!”
After steadying the ladder, Pearl returned to the toolshed to gather what she would need to make the necessary repairs. Several minutes later, she returned to the ladder and started up its rungs, making her way to the eaves along her two-storied house’s roofline.
Fleece sweatpants and sweatshirts had been Heather’s mode of attire during her Christmas break from work. Today she wore a quirky green pair adorned with reindeer that she had purchased online. They looked more like pajamas than street wear, but she didn’t care, since she was only taking a short walk down her street to Marlow House. Before dressing that morning, she had pulled her raven-colored hair into two long braids; they fell past her shoulders and were still neat and tightly woven when she stepped out of the door that afternoon.
Heather carried a brown paper bag filled with freshly made tamales in one hand while she started down her front steps. Before reaching the sidewalk, she glanced back at her house and noticed her calico, Bella, sitting on the living room windowsill, looking outside. Turning back to the sidewalk, Heather continued up the street.
While passing Pearl’s house, Heather noticed a ladder propped up against the front wall. She paused a moment and looked up at her neighbor’s roofline. Using her free hand to shade her eyes from the late afternoon sun, she squinted, focusing on the woman standing atop the ladder.
“What are you doing up there?” Heather called out.
The sudden shout startled Pearl, who abruptly turned to Heather. The ladder swayed a moment, but the older woman managed to maintain her balance.
“Don’t you have any better sense to know you shouldn’t startle people when they are on a ladder!” Pearl shouted down at Heather.
“And don’t you have any better sense to know a woman your age shouldn’t be up on a ladder!” Heather returned.
“Go mind your own business!” Pearl yelled down before turning back to what she was doing.
With a shake of her head, Heather started back on her way up the street. A moment later she entered Marlow House property through the side gate and then headed to the back door into the kitchen. When she reached the door, she gave a perfunctory knock and was greeted by a, “Come in, door’s unlocked.”
When Heather walked into Marlow House’s kitchen a moment later, she found Danielle at the kitchen table, dicing vegetables. Heather paused a moment and took a deep breath. She smelled the rich enticing aroma of a beef roast cooking.
“Smells wonderful,” Heather said as she walked to the kitchen table.
“It’s the roast for the shredded beef tacos. You are coming?” Danielle asked.
“Of course.” Heather set the paper sack on the table. “I’m contributing homemade tamales for the dinner. Letty Cortez makes them every year with her mother and sisters. I bought a couple of dozen. What is Christmas without tamales?” Heather took a seat at the table.
Danielle peeked up at Heather and said, “Just as long as they aren’t crabmeat.”
Heather rolled her eyes. Several years earlier the local bank manager had been killed after eating crab tamales. It was not so much that the crabs had been lethal as the bank manager was allergic to shellfish.
“Speaking of killing people,” Heather began. “I almost killed Pearl.”
“What did she do now?” Danielle asked.
“No. I mean I almost killed her. For real.”
Danielle frowned up at Heather.
“That crazy old woman was standing on a ladder, and I yelled at her. I must have startled her. She almost fell off the ladder. Would have snapped her neck.”
“That’s awful!” Danielle gasped.
Heather cocked her head slightly and asked dryly, “Would it have been? Really? Or did you mean that is awful that she didn’t fall off the ladder?”
“Heather! That’s horrible!”
Heather
broke into a smile and shrugged. “Yeah. I guess it is. And you are right. It would be awful. Can you just imagine her crabby old ghost hanging around and haunting us?”
Noah and Chris returned to Marlow House about an hour before dinner. They found Danielle and Walt in the living room with Lily, Ian, and Heather. Chris unceremoniously dumped the items they had bought on the game table and then knelt down to greet Hunny.
After a moment Chris asked Lily and Ian, “Where’s Connor and Sadie? Is Marie babysitting?”
“She might be over there, keeping an eye on Kelly,” Lily said with a chuckle.
“Kelly’s babysitting?” Chris asked.
“Joe has to work tonight, so she offered to watch Connor while we come over here. I just think she wanted to see her nephew,” Ian said. “She and Joe are spending Christmas Day with Joe’s family, and I think she’s a little bummed that she won’t be spending it with Connor on his first Christmas.”
“Oh, she’ll be with us at our Christmas party, and I know they are coming to the Christmas Eve here,” Lily countered.
A few minutes later everyone gathered at the game table to check out the items Chris and Noah had brought back from the thrift store in Astoria.
“I recognize all this stuff. It was on the counter at the shop when we were there—except for the statue, puzzle box and pottery,” Danielle said. “And that’s what the owner of the shop claims wasn’t on the counter.”
“I don’t think you’ll find what they’re looking for here. The statue was not only chipped, it was made in China. And not during the Ming dynasty,” Chris told them.
“The puzzle box was also made in China,” Noah said. “I took it apart, thinking maybe something was hidden inside, and I didn’t find anything.”
Chris looked at Danielle and asked, “Did you talk to the chief?”
