The Ghost Who Was Says I Do

by Anna J. McIntyre

  Claudia glanced around quickly to see if anyone else was in the area. She looked back to Dirk and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t think you’d have to ask that question. I have to wonder, why are you here?”

  “We had a deal,” she reminded him.

  “I didn’t have one with Clint.”

  Glaring at Dirk, she asked, “Have you seen him yet?”

  “Yes. And unless he’s one hell of an actor, I think he really has amnesia,” Dirk said. “He had no clue who I was. Did he recognize you?”

  Claudia shook her head. “No.”

  “And did you tell him who you are?” Dirk asked.

  “Not yet.”

  They heard footsteps coming up the staircase.

  “We can talk about this later.” Dirk quickly slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, locking it.

  Claudia stood alone in the hallway, listening to whoever was coming up the stairs. A moment later she saw Clint.

  “Hello, Claudia,” Walt greeted her as he walked down the hallway toward her. What Claudia couldn’t see was Marie, who stood at Walt’s side.

  “Okay, you’re alone with him. Now out with it!” Marie demanded impatiently.

  “I need to talk to you a minute. Alone,” Claudia told Walt. “You see, I did recognize you.”

  “She didn’t recognize you,” Marie snorted. “She knows you and knew you were here when she made the reservations!”

  “Are you saying we knew each other?” Walt asked.

  “Can we please go somewhere alone? I would rather not risk someone overhearing us.”

  Walt nodded down the hallway. “You can come up to my room and talk to me there.”

  “I’ll go warn Danielle so she doesn’t barge in on you two,” Marie said. “I’ll be right back.” The spirit disappeared.

  Silently, Claudia followed Walt up the stairs to his room. Once she entered the remodeled attic, she looked around, taking in the attractive apartment.

  “Wow. You really do have a fairy godmother,” Claudia murmured, still absorbing her surroundings.

  “Excuse me?” Walt frowned.

  “Landing here. From what your golden goose told me earlier, this used to be just an attic before she fixed it up for you. Must have cost a pretty penny.”

  “Did she just call Danielle a golden goose?” Marie asked when she popped back into the room. Walt glanced briefly at Marie and then back to Claudia.

  With her fingertips tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, Claudia strolled around the room, inspecting every detail.

  “Danielle didn’t remodel the room for me,” Walt lied. “She remodeled it to rent it out, and when I decided to stay in Frederickport, I asked her if I could rent it from her.”

  “Find out what she’s up to!” Marie urged. “I don’t trust her as far as I could throw her…and now that I think about it, I might actually be able to throw her.”

  Walt glanced to Marie. Their gazes met. He shook his head.

  Marie let out a sigh. “Okay. I will behave myself. But I heard what you did to the new neighbor’s hat.”

  Claudia stopped pacing and turned to face Walt. “Interesting that you can afford this place, since you aren’t working. From what I know, you don’t have an Oregon real estate license. Just how are you managing to support yourself? Oh, right, I forgot, you wrote a book.” Claudia laughed and resumed her pacing around the room.

  “Exactly how did we know each other?” Walt asked.

  “I can’t believe you don’t recognize me, Clint.”

  “I go by Walt now.”

  Claudia stopped pacing and looked Walt in the eyes. Silently, she studied him.

  “What do you want?” Walt asked.

  Claudia smiled. “So you do recognize me?”

  “Why doesn’t she just get on with it?” Marie grumbled.

  Walt shook his head. “No. But you obviously want something from me. How do we know each other?”

  “Let’s see…we first met when we got into real estate. Started at the same brokerage. Which is why I know you didn’t write that book.”

  Walt arched his brows. “Why would us working together convince you I didn’t write Moon Runners?”

  Claudia shrugged. “To begin with, that’s when you confessed to me you have dyslexia.”

  “Dyslexia? Clint had dyslexia?” Marie asked. “The man was a real estate agent, surely that can’t be true. Goodness, Adam has to read all sorts of contracts.”

  “Like I told you, I don’t remember you—or anything prior to the accident. I don’t remember having a problem reading. In fact, I read fine. Should I read something to you?”

  “What scam are you pulling, Clint?” she asked.

  “I go by my first name now—Walt.”

  Claudia smiled at him. “You can call yourself whatever you want. And if you marry Danielle Boatman, you can call yourself a bigamist.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What is she talking about?” Marie parroted.

  “I’m your wife, Clint. You can’t marry Danielle Boatman, you’re already married to me.” Claudia handed Walt the paper she had been holding.

  Marie moved quickly to Walt’s side and watched as he unfolded the wrinkled sheet of paper Claudia had just handed him. Reading over his shoulder, Marie let out a gasp. It appeared to be a Mexican marriage license—uniting in matrimony Walter Clint Marlow and Claudia Jean Dane. “That scoundrel was married?”

  “Hello, darling, happy to see me?” Claudia purred.

  Expressionless, Walt handed the document back to Claudia. “You and I are not married.”

  “You think the license is fake?” Marie asked. “Or did Clint get a divorce? Did he ever mention a wife? Maybe a divorce or annulment? I would think before turning over his body to you, he would have had the courtesy to mention a wife!”

  Claudia’s smile vanished. Rage mounting, she shook the marriage license in Walt’s face and shrieked, “What do you think this is? And I guarantee you won’t find a divorce decree—or annulment. Not if you check every state in the Union and Mexico, because you and I are still married! And if you want to marry your golden goose Boatman, then you’d better be prepared to offer me a generous—and I mean very generous—divorce settlement!”

  Walt took a step back from the raging woman, maintaining his calm. “Is this what this is about? An attempt to extort?”

  “Oh, dear…and to think you’re already married to Danielle. Does that make you a bigamist?” Marie muttered.

  “I’m not a bigamist,” Walt said aloud.

  Claudia found herself about to hyperventilate. She told herself to calm down. Taking deep breaths, she regained her composure. Looking up to Walt, she asked in a calm voice, “Does this mean you’re calling off the marriage to Danielle?”

  “I think he was talking to me, dear,” Marie said dryly

  “No. I am marrying Danielle.”

  “Perhaps you don’t care about being a bigamist, but I doubt your precious fiancée will appreciate marrying a man who already has a wife.”

  “I don’t believe you’re my wife,” Walt said calmly.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “After my accident, some of my new friends tried to help me remember by researching my life in California and sharing the results with me. A wife never came up.”

  “That’s because we never told anyone about our marriage. I would prefer to keep it that way. Of course, I know I can’t stop you if you decide to tell people, which might be easier if you refuse to give me what I want, and I don’t agree to a divorce.”

  “Another reason I don’t believe we were married is because, from what I know, I was deeply involved with Stephanie. We were going to Europe together, where we planned to marry. I would not have done that if I had been married to someone else.”

  “I thought you didn’t remember Stephanie?”

  “Did you know her?” Walt asked.

  Claudia st
ared at Walt for a few moments before answering, “Yes. I knew Stephanie.”

  “And did she know you claimed to be my wife?”

  “No. You and I agreed to keep that between the two of us.”

  “Why would we do that if I was planning to marry her?” Walt asked.

  Claudia studied Walt for a moment. “We had our reason at the time. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Stephanie is dead, and you don’t remember me—or so you say. And if you want to marry your precious Danielle Boatman, then you will need my cooperation in a divorce. And trust me, that won’t come cheap.”

  Clutching the marriage license, Claudia turned abruptly and marched to the door. Just as she reached for the door handle, her free hand flew to her right cheek and she let out a gasp. Twirling around, she looked to Walt, her eyes wide. He stood a good ten feet from her, watching. Without a word, she turned back to the door, opened it, and hurried from the room.

  As Walt listened to Claudia make her way down the stairs to the second floor, he looked at Marie and arched his brows. “You slapped her, didn’t you?”

  Marie shrugged. “She deserved it.”

  Seventeen

  Giving up on the idea of an afternoon nap, Rachel decided she would just have to go to bed early tonight. After Claudia had left to find Clint, Rachel changed her clothes, putting on soft yoga pants, fuzzy socks, and an oversized sweatshirt. Danielle’s cat napped on the center of her bed while she sat in a nearby chair, reading Moon Runners. She had purchased the book after Claudia had told her the author was Clint Marlow. This was the first chance she had to actually read it.

  Rachel wished her room had a fireplace like Danielle’s bedroom. Marlow House might be a charming old Victorian, yet she found it rather damp and chilly. Wrapping herself in a throw blanket she had found in the closet, she snuggled up in the chair, book in hand.

  She was already starting the third chapter. Clint—or whoever had written the book—definitely knew how to pull a reader into a story. Rachel knew her sister was convinced Clint hadn’t written Moon Runners, but if he hadn’t, then who was the author? And why would the author let Clint take credit for the book—especially one that was obviously successful? Her sister’s theory made no sense to her, yet she wasn’t about to argue with Claudia about it. The last time she’d tried arguing with her sister, it didn’t work out—she ended up driving to Oregon. Rachel turned the page just as her sister burst back into the room.

  “I talked to Clint!” Claudia said, slightly out of breath, slamming the door closed behind her and locking it.

  Rachel quickly shut the book and discreetly covered it with the blanket on her lap. She looked up to her sister and smiled. “How did it go?”

  Just as Rachel asked the question, she frowned, her eyes on Claudia’s face. “What happened to your cheek?”

  Claudia furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “Your right cheek, it’s bright red,” Rachel explained.

  Tossing the marriage certificate on her bed, Claudia touched her right cheek and rushed to the dresser to look in the mirror.

  “It’s red,” Claudia murmured as she looked at her reflection, gently caressing her cheek.

  “What happened?”

  Claudia turned from the mirror. “I have no idea. But when I was leaving Clint’s room, it felt like someone slapped me.”

  “Did Clint hit you?” Rachel sat up straighter in the chair.

  “Goodness no. He wasn’t even near me. And for all his faults, Clint would never hit me. But I’ll admit, I was pretty upset after we talked, and I just ran out of the room. I must have knocked into something and didn’t even realize it.”

  “So tell me, what did Clint say?” Rachel asked.

  “I showed him the marriage license. I told him if he wanted a divorce from me, I would expect a generous settlement.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “He insisted we weren’t married while claiming he still has amnesia and can’t remember anything prior to the accident.”

  “If you showed him the marriage license, and he admits he can’t remember anything, how can he say that?”

  “Wishful thinking on his part,” Claudia said with a snort as she flopped down on her bed and leaned against the stack of pillows.

  Max lifted his head, looked at the far wall, and meowed.

  “Hello to you too,” Marie greeted Max. “I see you’re still here.”

  “So what now?” Rachel asked. “Do you think he’ll say anything to Danielle?”

  “I seriously doubt it. But if he does, I wouldn’t be surprised if she just tells him to pay me off to get rid of me. Which would be a good thing.”

  “Do you think you might be playing a dangerous game?” Rachel asked.

  “What do you mean? Dangerous how? If you think they’re going to call the cops and charge me with extortion, that’s not going to happen. For one thing, I have so much on Clint, he doesn’t want to go there.”

  “But he doesn’t know that—I mean, not if he really has amnesia. And I wasn’t talking about him going to the police.”

  “What, then?”

  “What is to stop him from—you know—getting rid of you?”

  Claudia stared at her sister a moment and then started laughing. “Oh, come on now, get real. Clint is not going to knock me off.”

  “I don’t suppose he would,” Marie murmured, knowing neither woman could hear her. “I doubt he would want your spirit hanging around. Can’t say I would want it lingering either.”

  “But I have another problem,” Claudia snarled.

  “What?”

  “Dirk Thorpe is staying here. I ran into him in the hallway.”

  Rachel frowned. “Who’s he?”

  “I thought I told you…” Claudia paused a moment and then muttered, “I guess not,” before saying, “He’s just someone who worked with Clint. Not someone I like. You might say we’ve had some issues in the past.”

  “Why is he here?” Rachel asked.

  “I can only guess,” Claudia said under her breath.

  After Claudia had rushed out of the attic, Walt took the hidden staircase to Danielle’s room. According to Marie, that was where Danielle was waiting for him. Instead of discussing the recent events there, the two returned to the attic. Danielle sat quietly and listened to Walt tell her what had transpired between Claudia and him.

  “Where’s the marriage license?” Danielle asked when Walt finished the telling.

  “I gave it back to her.”

  “Why would you do that? We need to see if it’s real.”

  “It’s not real,” Walt insisted.

  “That’s not the point. If it isn’t real, we need the license to prove it’s fake.”

  Walt sighed wearily. “I understand that. It just wasn’t what I expected to hear her tell me, and I—well, I reacted. I just handed it back to her. After she left, I realized that was not the wisest thing to do. But I’m certain she isn’t married to Clint.”

  “Why are you so sure?” Danielle asked.

  “Because I remember how Clint felt about Stephanie. She was the reason he didn’t want to stay. He wanted to be with her. They were to be married. He was desperately in love with her,” Walt reminded her.

  “So? Maybe that’s why he and Stephanie were going to Europe. Maybe Claudia refused to give him a divorce, and that’s why they were leaving the country,” Danielle suggested.

  “If Clint was married, don’t you think he would have said something to us?” Walt asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. Not if Claudia was one of the reasons he wanted out. Maybe he was afraid you wouldn’t help him if you thought you’d have to deal with her.”

  “I still find it odd that this would be the first we’re hearing of a wife,” Walt said. “Remember, both Ian and MacDonald did a background check on Clint, and neither one of them came across a prior marriage.”

  “The marriage license was from Mexico. I doubt they checked for marriages down there. M
aybe it was a quickie marriage where they eloped, and then it didn’t work out and they never told anyone,” Danielle suggested.

  “Then why not get an annulment?” Walt asked.

  “Maybe they did get one—or maybe you’re right and the wedding never happened. Or maybe Claudia, for whatever reason, refused to let him out of the marriage, and that’s why they were intent on leaving the country. But either way, we need to start with that wedding license.”

  “I’ll ask Claudia to see the license again.”

  “If she shows it to you, immediately take a picture of it with your phone in case she won’t let you keep it or make a copy.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she won’t let me see it again. If it is fake, I suspect she won’t.”

  “Then what do we do? Do you remember where in Mexico the license was issued?” Danielle asked.

  “There is another option.” Walt chuckled at the thought.

  Danielle perked up. “What?”

  “Marie.” He grinned. “Now that she’s harnessed her energy and can move objects, then there is no reason she can’t get ahold of the license for us.”

  Danielle smiled. “True. I didn’t consider that. You think she can do it?”

  “I don’t see why not. Moving a piece of paper is not as difficult as moving a chair.”

  “Or a pot of boiling water.” Danielle cringed.

  “Are you still upset about that pot of water I tried to move?” Marie asked when she popped into the room, overhearing the tail end of their conversation.

  “No. We were discussing how you’ve managed to harness your energy, and we have a favor to ask you.”

  “Whatever you need, but first, I think you should know Claudia knows Mr. Thorpe.”

  “So they did come here together,” Danielle said.

  Marie shook her head. “No. Claudia was telling her sister about running into Mr. Thorpe in the hallway, and she was surprised to find him here.”

  “Well, they’re in the same business and are both from Huntington Beach,” Walt noted. “Not surprising they know each other.”

  “Mr. Thorpe also knew Clint. He’s up to something,” Marie told them. “According to Claudia, he works at the same office Clint did, and she doesn’t like him.”