The Ghost of Marlow House (Haunting Danielle Book 1) (16 page)

“Fortunately Danielle Boatman seems a
bit more friendly since I helped her out today, so if we don’t find it
tomorrow, we’ll just have to go back.”

“Did Marie remember her father saying
anything about someone seeing Roger coming from Frederickport on the day I was
murdered?” Walt asked Danielle later that night when he found her alone in the
library.

“No. She had never heard that story.”
Danielle closed the book she was reading and set it on her lap. She looked up
at Walt.

“Where’s Lily?” Walt glanced toward the
door.

“She went outside to sit in the garden.”

“Garden. From how it looks from the
attic window it looks more like a jungle.”

“That’s funny. When we arrived Lily said
it looked like a jungle. Well actually, she said the entire grounds looked like
a jungle. By the way, I’ve hired a landscaper to clean up the place. He starts
tomorrow.”

Walt walked to the window. Looking
outside he could see the silhouette of Lily as she sat on a wrought iron bench
under the moonlight.

“What is she doing out there in the
dark?” he asked.

“There’s a full moon,” Danielle reminded.
“I think she just needed some alone time.”

“Pining over that Ian character?” Walt
turned from the window and faced Danielle.

“Maybe a little. We talked about him. I
guess what he did wasn’t so awful. It’s not like he turned out to be a mass
murderer or escaped convict.”

“Not that you know.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Obviously your visit to Marie didn’t
give you anything new to go on.” Walt sat down across from Danielle. With a
slight wave of his hand a lit cigar appeared between two of his fingers.

“Actually, the trip was fruitful.”
Danielle tossed the book from her lap onto the floor and looked at Walt, noting
the change of his expression from disappointment to curiosity.

“Go on,” he urged.

“Apparently Emma Jackson is still alive.
At least we think it’s the same Emma Jackson. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Emma Jackson?” Walt frowned. “Wasn’t
that the colored woman who saw Roger driving from Frederickport?”

Danielle wanted to say,
what color,
green or purple?
Instead she said, “Yes. She lives in Astoria and has
agreed to see me tomorrow.”

“She must be over a hundred by now.”
Walt absently puffed the cigar.

“106, to be exact. There was an article
in the local newspaper about her. Adam recognized the name when I was telling
Marie about the article I read online.”

“Adam?”

“Marie’s grandson. Remember, he was over
here when you were flipping through the channels on the TV in my bedroom.”

“Which man—the dandy or the one that
looks like a sneaky rat?”

“A sneaky rat?” Danielle giggled and
shook her head. “That wasn’t very nice. I didn’t think he looked like a
rat...well, maybe a little. It was the other one, the dandy.”

“There was something about him I didn’t
like.”

“I got some bad vibes when I first met
him. But you know, he’s really nice. He joined us for lunch today.”

“Really nice?” Walt arched his brows.

“Yes. He even arranged for me to talk to
Emma Jackson. So you should like him, too.”

“I certainly do not have to like him.”
Walt narrowed his eyes and stared at Danielle. “You like him?”

“I don’t dislike him.” Danielle shrugged.
“But yeah, I guess I warmed up to him today. Plus he isn’t bad to look at.”

“What is
that
supposed to mean?”

“Hey, you called him a
dandy
, so
I figure you noticed it too. He is a good looking guy.”

“I was referring to his manner of dress,
how he carries himself, his general attitude. As for his looks, I found him to
be very…
ordinary
.”

“I don’t know…if I could tone down some
of his…
slickness
...I think he would be pretty hot.” Danielle wasn’t sure
she actually believed that, but she found teasing Walt mildly amusing.

“
Hot
. I can’t believe how women
talk these days.” Walt shook his head in disgust.

“Oh come on, you lived in the Roaring
Twenties. Don’t act like everything was all prim and buttoned up.”

“Roaring Twenties?”

“It’s what that era is called,” Danielle
explained.

“You mean the 1920s?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Walt asked.

“For one thing, skirts got shorter and
morals looser. It was also a time of prosperity, at least until it crashed at
the end of the decade.”

“What do you mean it crashed?”

“I’m not a history buff, but I know it
was called Black Tuesday, when the stock market crashed at the end of 1929. 
Overnight rich people lost their fortunes and it was the beginning of the Great
Depression.”

“The Great Depression?”

“Another coined term, like the Roaring
Twenties, to represent a time in history. I think it lasted through the
forties, until the Second World War.”

“The second one?” Walt stood up, a fresh
cigar in his hand. “I’ve missed so much.”

“When I was younger, I assumed spirits
that communicated with me knew things that I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Walt turned and
faced Danielle.

“For one thing, I would have expected
you to know who killed you—even if you didn’t see who did it. I guess I used to
think spirits were in some way—god-like.”

“God like?” Walt laughed at the term.
“How so?”

“You know, all seeing, all knowing.”
Danielle smiled at the idea.

 “Hardly,” Walt scoffed.

They were quiet for a moment when
Danielle asked, “Walt, were you a dandy?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well for one thing, your suit.”

Walt looked down at his clothes.

“That’s a pretty snazzy suit. Something
out of the
Great Gatsby
,” Danielle said.

“I was reading that…” Walt narrowed his
eyes as if he had just remembered something.

“What do you mean?”  Danielle noted his
look of concentration.

“
The Great Gatsby
. I started
reading it before Angela left for Portland.”

“I didn’t realize it was out back then.”
Danielle tried to recall when the book was published.

“It was a fairly new book. I bought it
for Angela; I thought she might enjoy it.”

“The way you say that, it sounds like
she didn’t like it.”

“When I met Angela, she led me to
believe she loved to read.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I suppose I had a reputation of
enjoying the company of…well-read women.”

“What are you saying; a woman with a
book in her hands turned you on?” Danielle teased.

“No, of course not,” Walt scoffed. “It’s
just that I have no patience for ignorant women. I was always attracted to a
woman with a lively mind—one who enjoyed literature, paid attention to what was
going on in the world.”

“So you’re saying Angela
faked
her love of books, to earn points with you?”

 “I suppose that accurately sums it up.”

“What did she do, rattle off all the
books she supposedly read?” Danielle found the idea of seducing a man via a
bookworm pose somewhat amusing.

“Of course not. But our first
conversations were often about books we mutually enjoyed. I realize now it gave
us something to talk about when we were first getting to know each other.”

“If she discussed those books with you,
don’t you think she read them? I mean it’s kind of difficult to discuss a book
with someone who’s read it if you haven’t.”

“I discovered Roger was the reader.
Apparently he coached Angela so she could make me believe we shared a mutual
interest.”

“That sounds a little—well, bizarre. How
did you find out?”

“It was before she read my revised
will.  I used to like to buy her little gifts—normally jewelry. For some reason
giving her the book seemed…well more intimate. I’m not sure if that makes
sense.”

“Yes, yes it does.”

“I had the book gift wrapped—it was
quite a lovely package.” Walt looked wistfully into the distance. What he was
seeing Danielle could only imagine. “When I gave it to her she was so excited,
just as she was whenever I gave her a present. But when she opened it her
smiled disappeared. She looked at me and asked,
‘Just what am I suppose to
do with this?’”
 

Walt laughed bitterly and then
continued.  “I will admit I wasn’t quite sure how to answer her question. At
first I thought she was teasing. But then her eyes…I always thought she had
beautiful blue eyes, but in that moment they looked quite cold and
calculating.”

“What happened?”

“She ended up tossing the book aside,
laughing at me. Telling me she didn’t like to read, that Roger had read all those
books. When I asked her why she had lied, she said quite cheerfully,
Darling
,
all’s fair in love and war
.”

 “Meaning she was just…ahhh…faking it…to
gain your affections?”

“That’s what I took it to mean.”

“So what did you say?”

“I really didn’t know what to say. I
just stood there like an idiot. She kissed me and said something like,
‘Be
honest darling, you really don’t care if I read or not
.’ And then she
added,
‘Now be a good boy and go buy me something nice to make up for that
boring book
.’”

   “Oh, I’m sorry Walt.” Danielle wanted
to hug Walt and give him comfort, yet she knew that was impossible.

Sitting on the wrought iron bench, Lily
wrapped her arms around her body and hugged the sweatshirt close to her. It was
a chilly summer evening, yet she hadn’t taken the time to swap her white shorts
for a pair of jeans. Looking up at the sky, she watched clouds move across the
full moon.

Closing her eyes, she listened and could
hear the ocean breakers in the distance. With a deep breath, she inhaled the
cool evening air. Her solitude was interrupted when she heard something running
through the bushes, scattering the fallen leaves. Whatever it was, it was
coming quickly in her direction.

Startled, Lily sat up straight and
opened her eyes. A moment later she was greeted by Sadie who charged toward her
at a full gallop, leaping playfully into Lily’s lap.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lily whispered, roughly
petting the fur along the dog’s shoulders. Sadie nuzzled her wet nose into
Lily’s neck and placed a sloppy kiss across her cheek.  Gently pushing the dog
back a bit, Lily glanced up and spied the dark silhouette of a man coming
toward her. She knew without seeing his face that it was Ian.

“Sadie, come….oh Lily. I didn’t know you
were out here,” Ian said when he reached the bench and could clearly see Lily
by the light of the moon.

“Do you always lurk in other people’s
back yards?” she teased.

“No, but Sadie got away from me.”

“She does that a lot doesn’t she?” she
said playfully.

“You’re no longer mad at me?” Ian
sounded relieved.

“I didn’t say that,” she quipped. Lily
scooted over on the bench, making room for Ian. He accepted her silent
invitation and sat down next to her. Sadie quieted down and curled up on the
ground by their feet.

“Dani and I talked about it and while we
weren’t thrilled you misled us, we can sort of understand why someone who is
famous would want his privacy.”

“I wouldn’t call myself famous.”

“I looked you up on the Internet
tonight, and you have an Emmy. I think that classifies you as sorta famous.”

“Fortunately, most people don’t
recognize me by my real name, which suits me fine. Does this mean we can go
back to being friends again?” Ian asked.

“I suppose…but now that we’re friends,
does this mean you’ll tell me about the story you’re working on?”

Ian chuckled and said, “If it was just
me, I would be tempted.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a writing partner. I’m afraid
she would kill me.”

“Is she…umm…your girlfriend?”

“We’re close—very close. But she’s my
sister.”

“You work with your sister? How come it
didn’t say that online?”

“Because this is the first project we’ve
ever worked on together. And for the record, I try to be as truthful as
possible when setting up an interview, without giving away the project.”

“I don’t know about that. You told
Joanne Johnson you were writing a book about travel on the Oregon coast, and
wanted to include information about Marlow House.”

“I never said that exactly.  You might
say I misled her—let her jump to conclusions. I never once confirmed—or denied her
assumption.”

“I have a feeling you’d make an
excellent attorney.”

“I’ll try to remember that if I decide
to change careers.”

“I can see how setting up interviews can
be tricky…asking questions when you really don’t want the person you’re
interviewing to know what you’re working on. Sort of like taking photographs of
old portraits and trying to make someone think you want the picture for…oh I
don’t know…just because you like pictures of old portraits of people you don’t
know.”

Ian glanced down uneasily, his hands
fidgeting. “I’m thinking you’re talking about the portraits in Marlow house, of
Walt and Angela Marlow?”

“Gee, you’re quick. Interesting how you
wanted to use your own camera—mine wasn’t quite good enough. Now my pictures
turned out nice. It is amazing, the camera they put in those iPhones. But not
quite good enough to reproduce in a book or magazine article; is that it?” Lily
studied Ian’s reaction.

“Are you going to let me take the
pictures?”

“Are you going to tell me what the story
is about?” Lily countered.

“Does this mean you won’t let me if I
don’t?”

“No. But it really isn’t my call
anymore—it’s Dani’s. The portraits don’t belong to me and if they are going to
end up in some book or magazine article I think she has the right to say yay or
nay.”

“What makes you think that’s what I want
them for?”

“For one thing, you remember not just
Walt Marlow’s name, but his wife’s. Heck, I can’t remember her name and I’m
staying in her house. Makes me think you’re doing a piece about Marlow House,
not some regional thing that includes Marlow House in a broad sense.”

“If I was, it’s not something that would
hurt Danielle or the business she’s starting.”

“You know, you aren’t the only one
researching the history of Marlow House.” Lily watched for his reaction.

“What do you mean?” Ian frowned.

“Ah ha! You admit you’re researching its
history for your story!” Lily grinned.

“I didn’t confirm anything. I simply
asked what you meant.”

“Actually Dani and I are chasing an
interesting story about the house. In fact, we’re going to Astoria tomorrow to
conduct our own interview.”

“What—or who—is in Astoria?”

“What makes you think I’ll tell you more
about what we’re looking into than you’d tell us about your story?” Lily
flashed him a smug smile.

“Hell, you’re just pulling my chain.”

“No I’m not. I think it will make a
fascinating story on Dani’s promotional brochures for the B and B, and on her
website, when she sets one up. She was in marketing. Did you know that? She and
her husband owned their own marketing company. They were really successful, so
I have no doubt she’ll be able to promote the hell outa her business with this
story.”

“I didn’t know Danielle was married.”

“She’s not any more. He was killed about
six months ago. She sold her company a while back.”

“Lily, I can’t betray my sister’s
confidence and tell you what we’re working on. I would hope you’d understand
that. But if you two are really looking into an interesting story on Marlow
House, I wish you’d tell me. Maybe I can work it into my piece—and you know
that would end up helping Danielle’s new business by giving Marlow House extra
exposure.”

“I’ll make sure and tell Dani.”

“You do that.”

“Aren’t you a little nervous we’re
working on the same story?” Lily asked.

“Not at all.”

They sat quietly in the moonlight for
several minutes, each looking out into the darkness. Sadie lay by their feet,
her chin resting on Lily’s right shoe.

“It’s nice out here,” Ian said at last,
breaking the silence.

“Yes it is. Dani hired a gardener to
clean the yard up. He’s coming tomorrow.”

“I hope he doesn’t remove too much. This
place has a special charm.”

“Yes…yes, it does.” Lily glanced down
and smiled at Sadie just as Ian turned in her direction. He studied Lily’s
profile in the moonlight. She continued to look down at Sadie, unaware of his
scrutiny.  Without thought, Ian reached out to Lily with his right hand and
captured her chin, gently turning her face in his direction.

Startled by his touch, Lily’s eyes
widened as she looked up into Ian’s somber expression.  Their gazes locked for
several moments before Ian leaned toward her to claim a kiss. Closing her eyes,
she accepted the brief intimacy.  When the kiss ended Lily pulled away from Ian
and just stared at him.

“I…I think I need to go. We have a big
day ahead of us.” Lily stood up abruptly, dislodging Sadie’s chin from its
resting place on her shoe. The golden retriever looked up.

“Will you go to dinner with me
tomorrow?” Ian asked.

Lily considered his question for a
moment. “Okay. We should be back by late afternoon.”

“Give me a call when you get back.”

• • • •

“Hell, Kelly, what if they stumbled on
the story?” Ian ranted into the cellphone. He stood in the unlit living room,
staring out the window. He could see the light on across the street in Lily’s
bedroom.

“It sounds to me like she was just
trying to get you to tell her what we’re working on,” Kelly suggested.

“I don’t know. She said they were going
to Astoria tomorrow, to interview someone. I swear, if this story ends up on
someone’s website before we go to print, I might as well go back to teaching.”

“Right. You hated teaching,” Kelly
reminded him. “And after all this, you’re taking her out to dinner?”

“Tomorrow night. When they get back from
Astoria.”

“You think she’ll tell you how their
little interview went?”

“I hope so. I’ll call you tomorrow
night.” Ian disconnected the call and tossed the cellphone on the couch. He
looked back out the window toward Marlow House.

Glancing upward, he noticed the light on
in the attic
. Was this where George Hemming was standing when he saw Marlow
hanging
? Ian wondered. In the next moment the attic light went out.

His gaze dropped back to the second
floor and Lily’s lit window.