The Ghost of Valentine Past (25 page)

“If Mitcham blackmailed him in person, and Wayne killed him, what about the blackmail letter? Why send a letter?”

“Maybe Mitcham didn't send the letter—maybe Wayne wrote it himself,” the chief suggested.

Danielle began pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “No. That doesn't make sense.”

“I admit it has some holes,” MacDonald conceded.

“Like Swiss cheese.” Danielle took a deep breath and exhaled. “This is freaking driving me nuts. There is only one thing to do.”

“What's that?”

“I need to talk to Logan Mitcham.”

T
he first thing
Danielle noticed was the distinct odor, a combination of chemicals and death. It made her nose twitch. The smell got stronger as she made her way down the hallway. MacDonald assured her there was no one at the morgue; they had all gone out for lunch. However, she could hear voices just beyond the doorway. Someone was here—and they were shouting, or simply arguing loudly. Either way, she knew they were just inside the room she was about to enter.

Steeling her courage, she approached the door, reached out, and gripped its handle. She would normally take a deep breath to calm herself, but that was not an option. She had no desire to drink in more of the noxious fumes than was absolutely necessary.

The moment she opened the door, her fears were confirmed. While she knew the bodies of both Peter Morris and Logan Mitcham were still at the morgue, she had hoped the only spirit still lingering would be Mitcham's. He was the only one she needed to talk to.

For whatever reason, they both remained, and judging by the angry verbal exchange, they were unhappy with each other. She wondered if that was why they were both still here—Mitcham had followed his body to the morgue before Morris had time to move on, and seeing each other, the two had clashed, keeping them both grounded to this plane while they riled at each other.

Or perhaps…neither one cared for an extremely hot climate, which Danielle suspected would be their next stop after this one.

The two spirits stopped shouting at each other the moment Danielle walked into the room. She had made the decision before opening the door to pretend not to see them. Since their death, both had been surrounded by people who could not see them, such as police officers and members of the coroner's office, so she didn't imagine they would find her inability to see them unusual.

“What's she doing here?” Morris asked.

Ignoring both spirits, Danielle walked over to a chair and sat down. She took out her cellphone and pretended to be surfing.

“Looks like she's waiting for someone,” Mitcham said.

Morris quickly lost interest in Danielle and turned his attention back to Mitcham. The two men began shouting at each other again. If she had hoped to learn anything from their exchange, she was sorely disappointed. While they confirmed what she already suspected—the private detective had murdered Peter Morris—she learned nothing new.

After ten minutes, Danielle had had enough. If the smell didn't make her throw up, the shouting was sure to make her head explode. Annoyed, she stood up, shoved her cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans, and faced the men.

“Shut up!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You two are driving me freaking nuts! Just shut up!”

Both spirits froze, their screaming silenced. Slowly, they turned to face her.

Danielle smiled smugly and sat back down, primly crossing her legs. “Perhaps we can now have a civil conversation?”

“You can hear us?” Mitcham asked. “Like Glandon. He heard me.”

“Ahh…you recognized Chris, did you?” Danielle smiled. “Yes, he's like me, we can see spirits.”

“Why can't anyone else see us?” Morris asked.

“Umm…maybe because you're dead?”

“You don't have to be so snotty,” Mitcham grumbled.

Danielle laughed. “Seriously?” she pointed to Morris. “This one talks people into killing themselves for money, and you kill people for money. So, how's it feel guys, being dead? All cracked up to what you'd thought it would be?”

“Why are you here?” Morris asked.

“I want to know who killed your friend here. We already know who killed you.”

“He's not my friend,” Morris snapped. He glared at Mitcham and asked Danielle, “And how do you know who killed me?”

“Your PI here left his fingerprint behind—on my fence. A bloody fingerprint, your blood.”

“I'm glad he's dead, I just don't want him here!” Morris shouted.

“So who killed him?”

“I know why he died.” Morris laughed.

“Oh shut up,” Mitcham snapped.

“Go on,” Danielle said, now crossing her arms across her chest as she watched the two agitated spirits pace the room.

“It was greed!” Morris shouted.

Mitcham laughed. “Greed? You're accusing me of being greedy? You, who couldn't wait for someone to die of natural causes to get ahold of their money?”

“How did greed get Mr. Mitcham here killed?” Danielle asked.

“He had this brilliant scheme,” Morris said sarcastically. “He wanted to convince all those people who had once hired him to investigate me to hire a hit man and take me out. Of course, they wouldn't know he was the hit man.”

“Wait a minute,” Danielle said. “From what I understand, Mr. Mitcham here, while on your payroll, initially told most of those folks he couldn't find anything on Earthbound Spirits.”

“So?” Mitcham asked. “I told them I couldn't find anything that would stick in a court of law, which just made them more frustrated—it should've made them more willing to seek justice in another way.”

“Are you saying more than one person hired you to kill Morris?”

Morris laughed. “Logan's plan didn't go quite like he thought it would, which rather pissed him off. Although, he did get one person to bite.”

“So, I could've still made them pay!” Mitcham insisted.

“And how was that?” Danielle asked.

“With Peter murdered, and what I had on my clients, I'm sure I could have gotten money from most of them.”

“Are you saying you intended to frame them for Morris' murder?”

“Sure, I had enough evidence to convince the police to arrest more than one of my clients. What they would end up paying for legal fees would be far more expensive than what I was asking.”

“So who killed you?” Danielle asked.

Mitcham glared at Morris. “The same client who paid me to kill Peter.”

N
ervously nibbling her lower lip
, Kelly stood on the front porch of the Bradford Estate. She glanced down at her slipper clad feet. “I didn't think this out very well,” she muttered to herself. Awkwardly, she ran the palms of her hands over her sweatshirt, as if that would, in some way, make her more presentable. Before getting out of her car, she had tried to straighten her hair, but she didn't have a brush or comb with her. Had she taken time to grab her purse before impulsively driving off, she wouldn't just have a comb, but some makeup as well.

Resisting the temptation to simply turn around, head back to her car, and go home, Kelly rang the doorbell. A few minutes later, Baily Bradford opened the front door. Like Kelly, she hadn't dressed for the day, but Baily's silk lounging suit looked far more glamorous. She wore her long blond hair pulled up into a feminine twist, held in place by a rhinestone-encrusted comb.

“Kelly?” Baily said in surprise, her gaze looking her up and down. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you, it's important.”

“Are you okay?” Once again, Baily looked her up and down. “Has something happened?”

“May I please come in?”

Baily shrugged and opened the door wider. “Sure, I guess.”

Kelly followed Baily into the living room. The house had belonged to Baily's parents—to Candice and Baily's parents. But now, everything belonged to Baily. Kelly remembered Candice telling her the house had twenty bedrooms. Kelly always wondered why a family of four needed twenty bedrooms.

“Are you alone?” Kelly asked, nervously taking a seat.

“As alone as I ever am in this house.” Baily glanced up to the ceiling for a moment. “Marie is upstairs somewhere, cleaning something.”

“I needed to talk to you about Peter Morris.”

Baily's face broke out into a smile. “He's dead. Isn't that wonderful?”

“Well…umm…yeah…I suppose…You heard he was murdered?”

Baily wandered over to the coffee table and picked up a cigarette from a crystal dish. “Of course. It's been all over the news.” After lighting the cigarette and taking a puff, she looked at Kelly. “Mother would have an absolute fit if she knew I was smoking in the house. Oh, she wouldn't give a crap that smoking might give me cancer; she just wouldn't want the smoke to get into her Persian rugs.” Baily took another drag and smiled again. “But Mother is dead, just like Peter Morris. Of course, no one killed Mother—although I was tempted on more than one occasion, especially after I found out she did nothing to revenge Candice's death. It was more important for Mother to keep up appearances. Unfortunately, by the time I found out, Mother was already dead. So, I suppose it all worked out.”

“The police believe Logan Mitcham killed Morris,” Kelly explained.

“Logan Mitcham? Never heard of him.”

“He was a private detective.”

“Was?” Baily took another puff.

Kelly nodded. “Someone killed him. They found his body Sunday, in Frederickport.”

Baily shook her head and made a tsk tsk sound. “Sounds like a bad week for Morris and his killer.”

“The police are looking for Mitcham's killer.”

“I really don't see why you're telling me all this. I'm glad Morris is dead—I imagine you're glad too. The bastard was responsible for my sister's death. But since I didn't kill him, none of this concerns me. Although, I am a little curious. Do you have any idea why the police believe this Mitcham guy killed Morris?”

“They found a bloody fingerprint at the scene of the crime. The blood was Morris', and the fingerprint was Mitcham's.”

Cigarette in hand, Baily cocked her head to one side and considered what Kelly had just told her. Finally, she shook her head and smiled. “Rather careless of him, wasn't it?”

“But the thing is, because of that fingerprint, the police know who killed Morris.”

“So? What do I care?”

“The police are going through all Mitcham's files, looking for who hired Mitcham to kill Morris.”

Walking back to the coffee table, Baily leaned over and smashed out her cigarette in an ashtray. “Who says anyone hired Mitcham to kill Morris? You said he was a private investigator, not a hit man.”

“Baily, they know who hired Morris.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“They know JusticeNow hired him to kill Morris. He wrote it in his file.”

Baily shrugged and picked up a fresh cigarette. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Just as Baily was about to light the cigarette, Kelly said, “I know you're JusticeNow.”

Baily paused for a moment, then lit the cigarette. “I don't know anything about a JusticeNow.”

“I understand why you did it. Morris ruined so many people's lives. But they know, and you need to be prepared. You need a lawyer, now. Tell them you had a breakdown, anything. But don't let Morris destroy you like he did Candice.”

“Kelly, I think you're acting a little crazy. I really don't know what you're talking about. I don't know who this JusticeNow is. It has nothing to do with me.”

“I recognized you on the forum. I went there too. You're JusticeNow. You talked about your sister, what Morris had done.”

“I'm sure my sister wasn't the only one that man destroyed.”

“Maybe not, but I know that's your handle. Logan rented the condo below mine. The police were there this morning. They didn't know I was there and overheard them. According to what I overheard, Mitcham made a note that JusticeNow hired them to have Morris killed. I know they've been on that website. I told them about it.”

“You told them about me?”

Kelly shook her head. “Not that you posted on that site. I never told them anything about you going on there. But I recognized you. I didn't see the point in dragging you into all this. I didn't think you had anything to do with it. But when I overheard them this morning—”

Baily had been taking cigarettes from the crystal bowl and fishing matches from a silver box sitting next to it, so Kelly didn't pay any attention when Baily opened the wooden box on the coffee table—not until Baily retrieved a small revolver and pointed it in her direction.

Letting out a gasp, Kelly asked, “What are you doing?”

“They can go to that website all they want. But I never once mentioned my real name—to anyone on the site. Only to Logan, and he's dead now. It seems you're the only one alive who knows my secret.”

“My god…what did you do, Baily?”

“I did what my parents should have done years ago, when they found out Morris' part in Candice's death.”

“You killed Logan Mitcham.”

“I didn't have a choice. The deal was, I would pay him half up front and give him the balance when the job was done. He told me where to meet him. But when I got there and gave him the rest of the money, he told me that was simply the first installment. He intended to blackmail me. What he didn't know was, I never meet strange men at night without this.” Baily waived her gun and then aimed it back at Kelly.