The Ghost Who Wanted Revenge (Haunting Danielle Book 4) (6 page)

“
S
top being annoying
, you miserable excuse for a spirit!” Lily shouted from the open kitchen door, into the side yard of Marlow House. “Why don’t you get your scrawny ghost butt moving onto the next level and face the music, you coward! Go haunt your own house, you loser!”

“Umm Lily, he isn’t there anymore,” Danielle said when she walked into the kitchen.

Lily turned from the open doorway and looked at Danielle. “He isn’t?”

“Nope. He’s up by the attic window making ugly faces at Walt.”

“What’s Walt doing?” Lily closed the door, hobbled over to the kitchen table, and sat down.

“Silently staring at him while smoking a cigar. I’m not sure what they would be doing if they could actually be in the same room together.” Danielle took a seat at the table and glanced up at the clock. It had been almost 24 hours since she learned the local authorities had dropped the murder charges.

“I find it exceedingly annoying. Gusarov has the audacity to hang around here throwing his ghost fits after what he did to me! I wish I could see the dead old goat then I would be able to tell him off properly!” Lily said angrily.

“Consider yourself lucky you can’t see him. Because trust me, it’s getting old having him hang out in the yard. I don’t even want to go outside anymore.”

“That’s what makes me so darn angry. All of this is his fault, but he’s making it something you did.”

“He’s obviously pissed to be dead. Not sitting well with him. I just hope…” Danielle glanced toward the window.

“Hope what?”

“That he doesn’t figure out how to harness his energy.”

“I thought you said that wasn’t possible.”

“I’m only guessing.” Danielle sighed. “It’s like with you and your reflection in the mirror—nothing more than an assumption on my part.”

“But you were right,” Lily reminded.

“True. But I could have been wrong. And when it comes to harnessed energy, we know it is possible, look at Walt.”

“But you said spirits who are able to harness energy usually have a limited space to do it in—like with Walt.”

“Yes, that’s my experience. There are some haunted places where disruptive paranormal activity has been reported—instances where a spirit might be capable of harming a living person. Things like scratches and moving objects, which could result in injury. The pattern seems to indicate those destructive powers are limited to a small area. The ghost can’t just wander at will causing havoc.”

“So what is the problem?” Lily frowned.

Danielle looked at Lily. “What happens if Stoddard is able to cultivate a sphere of power here…around my house. Since I first moved in, I knew this was a haunted house—but Walt, well, you know Walt. Not exactly a spirit that sends my guests running and screaming from the premises.”

“Can’t say the same for those who break in—or try to arrest you.” Lily giggled.

“True.” Danielle smiled.

“I see what you’re saying though. If Stoddard sticks around long enough, he might learn to harness his power and be a menace to Marlow House.”

“Exactly.” Danielle let out another sigh. “I tried talking to him last night. When I told him the charges against me had been dropped, I hoped he’d take that to mean I was innocent, and he was wrong. But he just got angrier.”

“About those charges being dropped. I hope your attorney is wrong. I don’t want to even consider the possibility the DA could still bring new charges against you.”

“I think she was just being brutally honest. Her job is to consider all the possibilities. And what she said didn’t really come as a big surprise to me. I understand that charges can always be refiled if for some reason they feel Joe isn’t telling the truth or if something else comes up during their investigation.”

“Oh Dani, how can you say that and sound so calm?” Lily asked.

Danielle shrugged. “I guess I have to have faith that eventually, everything will work out.”

Before Danielle could respond, the doorbell rang.

“That wouldn’t be your nurse, would it?” Danielle asked as she stood up.

“No. She was already here this afternoon. You were upstairs. I think in the attic.”

“Wow, she was quick.” Danielle started for the door.

“Takes less than 40 minutes,” Lily said. “I don’t think it’s Ian. He had that meeting over at Astoria this afternoon.”

“Just as long…” Danielle called out from the doorway leading to the hallway “…it isn’t the police again!”

When Danielle answered the front door a few moments later, it wasn’t anyone from the Frederickport Police Department. Nor was it anyone she knew—although he did look somewhat familiar.

A tall lanky man wearing pressed denims, a crisp white long-sleeved shirt, bolo tie, and cowboy boots and hat, stood on the front porch. She guessed he was about the same age as Lily’s parents.

“Hello, can I help you?” Danielle greeted cheerfully, trying to place the man.

“Are you the proprietor?” he asked.

“Yes I am. What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you had a vacancy. I would have called, but I’m afraid I don’t own a cellphone, and no one seems to have pay phones anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not taking reservations at this time,” Danielle apologized.

“I was afraid of that. All full up, huh?”

“Well actually…” Danielle paused and took a closer look at the man. “You’re Billy Bob Wayne, aren’t you?”

The man laughed. “Goodness little lady, I certainly never imagine I would be recognized up in these parts!”

“
You never hear them complain, when they buy a car from Billy Bob Wayne!”
Danielle sang.

“You really do know who I am!” He laughed again.

“I used to visit a friend of mine who lived in Phoenix, and I remember your commercials. You are something of a celebrity.”

“Ahh yes, I have to fight off the lovely ladies.” He grinned.

“Would you like to come in? Maybe I can help you find someplace to stay. I’m Danielle Boatman, by the way. I own Marlow House.”

Billy Bob Wayne accepted Danielle’s invitation and followed her into the parlor. When he was standing on the front porch, she hadn’t noticed his cane. It wasn’t until they were in the parlor and he was preparing to sit down that she noticed it. That, and the fact he walked with a limp.

“I’m really sorry to hear you’re full up. I picked up one of your brochures when I got into town. This place sure looks more interesting than the local hotels.”

“I assume you’re traveling alone—or did you leave someone sitting in your car?” Danielle asked.

“Oh no, just me.” Billy Bob smiled.

“The Seahorse Motel is nice, and it’s right on the ocean,” Danielle said. “I could call them for you; see if they have any vacancies.”

“I really didn’t come here to look at the ocean.” He removed his cowboy hat and set it on his lap.

“You aren’t here on vacation?” Danielle asked.

“I suppose I am,” Billy Bob said with a sigh. “I recently retired. Finally getting around to do some traveling.”

“You don’t have the car dealership anymore?”

“No. Sold it a few months ago. Figured I’d been doing it long enough.”

“Is this your first time in Frederickport?”

“Actually, I used to live here,” he said.

“Oh, so you’re in town visiting friends…family perhaps?”

“Never really kept in contact with anyone. Been years since I lived here. But my wife and daughter are still here. That’s why I decided to come. Should of come earlier. But there are no do overs in life.”

“Your wife and daughter live in Frederickport? Maybe I know them.”

“I doubt it. They don’t live here exactly. Their graves are at the Frederickport Cemetery.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a long time. But I figured I wanted to make it here—at least one more time, before I cash in my ticket.”

“How long were you planning to stay in town?” Danielle asked.

“Just a week. Rented a car in Portland. Flying home next Friday.”

“The thing is…” Danielle glanced briefly at his cane. “I have a friend staying with me—she is convalescing. She has an infection in her leg, which requires IV treatments three times a day. I thought it best not to take any guests while she’s recovering.”

“Oh…” Billy Bob sat up straighter in his chair. “I wouldn’t be any problem, I promise. I’d stay out of her way, wouldn’t disrupt her sleep.”

“The only problem, she’s using the only downstairs bedroom. While I wouldn’t mind letting you stay—especially considering the circumstances—the only available rooms are upstairs, and we don’t have an elevator.”

“Oh this?” Billy Bob gave his lame leg a light smack with his cane. “Slows me down a bit, but I can manage stairs. At the dealership, my office was upstairs. Walked them every day.”

“If you’re sure.” Danielle smiled.

“I’d really appreciate it Ms. Boatman.”

“Please, call me Danielle.” She stood up. “I think we can fit you in.”

“And please call me Will.”

“Will?” Danielle frowned.

“I only used Billy Bob for advertising purposes. I was born in California. You really think my folks named me Billy Bob?” He laughed.

“William Robert?” she asked.

“Yep.” He grinned.

“And the boots and hat? Please don’t tell me you aren’t a real cowboy,” she teased.

“Strictly drug store. Never been on a horse in my life.”

Danielle laughed and then said, “Let me go check the Red Room. I believe Joanne has it already made up.”

“Joanne?”

“She’s our housekeeper, sometimes cook. You’ll meet her later.”

Will stood up. “While you check on the room, I’ll go out to the car and grab my suitcase.”

A few moments later Walt appeared in the entry hall, just as Will walked outside and shut the door behind him.

“Who’s that?” Walt asked, peering out the window.

“Our new guest,” Danielle said brightly.

“I thought you weren’t taking any new guests until Lily got better,” Walt asked while following Danielle down the hallway.

“Oh, Lily, I better tell her before she wonders about the strange man walking around the house!”

Instead of continuing to the staircase, Danielle turned into the kitchen. Lily was still sitting at the table.

“Lily, we have a houseguest!” Danielle announced.

“Fine, ignore me,” Walt grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Lily asked.

“The person who was at the door—he was looking for a place to stay.”

“I thought you weren’t going to take any new guests for a while,” Lily said.

“That’s what I asked,” Walt said, knowing only Danielle could hear him.

“
A
re you insane
?” Chuck Christiansen shouted as he paced the floor in the home office at the Gusarov Estate. He’d just driven in from Portland and wasn’t happy with what Darlene was telling him.

Clutching her hands in her lap, Darleen cringed and looked up at Chuck. “Don’t yell at me. Someone is going to hear.” She sat primly on the chair next to Chuck’s desk.

“The door is closed,” he snapped. “Not to mention your housekeeping staff doesn’t speak English.”

“They can still hear you screaming at me—and I am your boss,” she squeaked.

“Right,” Chuck snorted. He stopped pacing and looked down at Darlene, his hands on his hips. “You and that group of fruit loops are my new bosses. Thanks to you.”

“Well, what does it matter?” Darlene shrugged. “Me or them. I understand they want to keep you on.”

“That makes me feel just peachy keen,” he snapped.

“It’s not my fault. You didn’t expect me to lie, did you?” She looked up into his angry face.

“I certainly didn’t expect you to tell the probate court Stoddard forged Isabella’s will!”

“Don’t yell at me! I didn’t know the will was forged until Tuesday night.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me all this—why?”

“Todd assured me there was no other will. I just figured he worked something out with Renton. Everything happened so fast. I was afraid.”

“You should have just played dumb instead of handing over half of the estate to that group of nuts. We have attorneys; we could have fought them.”

“They caught me by surprise.” Darlene looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously on her lap. “With everything going on, I just didn’t want to deal with this. I told them the truth—that I learned about the fake will the night before Todd was killed, and I didn’t know what to do—and then he was murdered.” Darlene looked up at Chuck. “They can’t blame me for something Todd did—something I just found out about.”

“So just like that, you hand over half of the estate?”

“What do you care? What does it matter if I’m a sole owner or not—it doesn’t change your position with the company. I told you, they want you to stay on.”

“Does this mean you’ve talked to them?”

Darlene nodded. “Yes, this morning.”

“Before or after you talked to the court?”

“What does it matter?”

“What does it matter?” Chuck shouted. He stomped over to the chair behind Stoddard’s desk and sat down. “I haven’t worked my butt off—put my entire life and soul into this company, risked everything, just to end up working for some wacky cult like Earthbound Spirits. I didn’t sign up for this!”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Darlene whispered.

After a few moments of silence, Chuck sighed and said, “I suppose I always knew the will was a fake.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Stoddard told me someone called him anonymously—said he assumed it was a friend of Isabella’s—letting him know where to find the will. I should have known he’d done something like this.”

“I’m not happy about this either.” Darlene rubbed her temples.

“I guess you aren’t. But I wonder, does this mean Isabella’s share of the estate is protected from Lily Miller’s lawsuit?”

Darlene stopped rubbing her temples and looked over at Chuck. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. If Isabella’s estate goes directly to Earthbound Spirits, and not to Stoddard, then I don’t see how she can touch it. But the share you get from Stoddard—his half of the company—her attorneys might be able to wrestle a portion of that from you.”

“But it’s mine. Before Todd died he told authorities I had nothing to do with taking Lily Miller.”

“Yeah, right.”

“My point is, if she can’t touch Isabella’s estate because Isabella had nothing to do with the abduction, then Lily shouldn’t be able to touch my share either! As far as the authorities know, I knew nothing about it!”

“It doesn’t work that way. I already explained that to you. Technically, it doesn’t belong to you yet—it still belongs to Stoddard.”

“He’s dead.”

“Obviously. Don’t be obtuse, Darlene; you know very well you may have to pay off a chunk of the estate to Miller.”

“Well, I didn’t think it would all come from my half.” Darleen stood up and rubbed her forehead. Agitated, she paced the room.

“I see it just sunk in.” Chuck leaned back in the chair and watched Darlene pace. “Whatever Miller gets in way of a settlement, it wouldn’t hurt as much if your estate was twice the size—which it was this morning, until you so foolishly opened your big mouth.”

“I didn’t even consider that.” Darlene paced faster.

“Sit back down, you’re making me dizzy.” Chuck pointed to the chair.

Darlene stopped pacing, looked at Chuck, and then quietly sat back down.

Chuck studied Darlene for a moment. Her fair complexion appeared paler than normal, with no hint of blush on her cheeks or discernable makeup enhancing her clear blue eyes. While he hadn’t seen her cry, her long dark eyelashes seemed to glisten with unshed tears. The way she pulled her blonde hair back in a silk scarf reminded him of a Russian peasant. The designer pantsuit and Christian Louboutin shoes offset the peasant look.

“Of course that is the sunny version,” Chuck said. “There is another, darker scenario.”

“What are you talking about?” Darlene frowned. “I’d say that version is anything but sunny.”

“I spoke to our attorneys last night, and it seems that because corporate resources were involved—such as paying for the medical staff to care for Miller—the corporation, as well as your private estate, may be held liable. Which I’m sure won’t please your new business partner—Earthbound Spirits.”

“But I thought we took care of all that? I thought that’s what this was all about?” Darlene whined.

“Only where it touches us personally—it won’t protect the company or Stoddard’s interests.”

“This just keeps getting worse and worse.” Darlene closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“But we have other things we need to discuss,” Chuck announced.

“What else could there be? This is more than enough for us to deal with.”

“I talked to Chief MacDonald this morning. Seems they dropped the charges against Danielle Boatman.”

“What do you mean they dropped the charges? I was there when Todd told Brian Henderson Boatman was the shooter. He heard him!” Darlene jumped to her feet and slammed her fist on Stoddard’s desk.

Chuck shook his head. “Apparently there was a witness who saw Boatman somewhere else during the time Todd was murdered.”

“That’s impossible! Who saw her, where?” Darlene sat back down.

“I don’t know. MacDonald wouldn’t say who it was. But obviously, he believes the witness.”

“That’s ridiculous. With Todd’s dying breath, he named his killer. Do you know when this so-called witness saw Boatman?”

“Apparently between 7 a.m. and when you and Henderson found your husband.” Chuck removed a cigarette from an ivory box on Stoddard’s desk and lit it with a lighter he’d fished from one of the desk drawers.

Darlene stubbornly folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in the chair. “Well, that doesn’t mean anything. She could have killed him before seven.”

“Unfortunately, there is another witness that proves Stoddard was still alive at seven—so if the police believe this anonymous person saw Boatman after seven, she won’t be charged and they will start looking at other suspects.”

Darlene narrowed her eyes and glared at Chuck. “Who is this other witness?”

“I am. Did you forget I talked to Stoddard on the phone that morning?”

“Maybe you were wrong about the time. Maybe you talked to Todd fifteen minutes earlier, which would mean Boatman had time to shoot him before the witness saw her.”

“They have my phone records, remember?”

“What about the men from the disposal company who saw Boatman in the neighborhood during that timeframe? They saw her car! We know they’re telling the truth! Who is to say Boatman isn’t paying off someone to give her an alibi! She has the money!”

“I mentioned that to the chief.” Chuck flicked an ash into a silver bowl on the desktop.

“What did he say?”

“He claimed his mystery witness is unimpeachable.”

“Bull. Anyone can be bought.”

“Very true. And Danielle Boatman has unlimited resources. She could easily find someone to come forward as a witness.”

“Exactly,” Darleen said with a nod.

“I think you need to go down to the police station and raise hell.”

“Me? What do you mean?” Darlene frowned.

“You’re Stoddard’s widow. You were there when your husband died in your arms—when he told you and Officer Henderson the name of his murderer. You have every right to be outraged—you should be outraged—knowing his killer is getting away with murder. For you not to be furious wouldn’t be natural, considering the circumstances.”

Darlene stood up. “Of course, you’re right. After all, Todd himself told us who shot him. When Brian asked him pointed questions, he clearly identified Danielle Boatman as his assassin. If Todd was still alive, they wouldn’t be pulling this.” Darlene walked to the window and looked outside.

“If he was alive, then we wouldn’t be discussing the fate of his killer,” Chuck scoffed.

“I know that,” Darlene snapped, looking at Chuck briefly before turning back to the window. “I just meant people listened to Todd; they respected him. He wouldn’t let the police just ignore something like this.”

“And Stoddard also got himself—and others—into one hell of a mess by hiding Isabella’s body and then taking Lily Miller.”

Darlene looked over her shoulder at Chuck. “And he’s paid dearly for his crime, hasn’t he?”

Chuck was silent for a moment, and then said with a sigh, “I suppose he has.”

Darlene walked back to the chair and sat down. “I loved my husband. I would have been happy to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Chuck said wearily. “But it just didn’t work out like that. Things happen in our lives that we can’t control.”

“I wish I could have given him a baby while he was still alive.” Darlene looked down and touched her belly. “He always wanted children,” she said dramatically.

“I wonder…” Chuck leaned back in his chair, contemplating a thought.

“What?”

“I wonder if Danielle Boatman plans to go to Stoddard’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Why would she do that?” Darleen frowned.

“She went to Isabella’s funeral,” Chuck reminded.

“Which I thought was ridiculous. She didn’t even know Isabella.”

“But some people feel compelled to attend funerals, even if they barely know the deceased.”

“Danielle Boatman didn’t know Isabella. They never even met.”

“But Danielle found the body.”

“What’s you’re point, Chuck?”

“Just that I wouldn’t be surprised to see Danielle Boatman at Stoddard’s funeral—and just in case she is there, you should be prepared.”

“Prepared, how?”

“Think about it. The woman who murdered your husband, do you really want her at his funeral?”

Darlene silently considered Chuck’s words. After a few minutes, she screwed up her face in a frown and said, “You’re right! That woman—that cold-blooded killer has no business coming to my husband’s funeral! Why is she there…to gloat? To make sure the poor man is actually dead? What kind of a woman does that? Just because she fooled the police—paid off some witness with all her money—doesn’t make her any more innocent!”