The Ghost Who Wasn't (Haunting Danielle Book 3) (18 page)

I
t was Wednesday morning
, the day of Isabella Strickland’s funeral. Lily had been at the hospital for four nights and was improving daily. According to the doctors, she was tentatively scheduled for release on Monday.

Danielle sat at the kitchen table at Marlow House reading the morning paper and waiting for the pot of coffee to brew. Sadie lay on the floor, curled up by Danielle’s feet.

Walt appeared by the table. “Good morning.”

Danielle and Sadie looked up. “Morning Walt. Interesting article in the paper about Stoddard Gusarov.”

Walt looked down at Sadie, who wagged her tail at him. “I thought I heard Ian arrive. Figured he’d take Sadie with him.” Walt sat down at the table. “Not that I’m not happy to see she’s still here.”

“Ian just stopped by to let me know he got into town this morning. He’s on his way to the hospital to see Lily. I told him he could just leave her here since I won’t be taking off for a couple hours. I gave him a key to the house, so he’ll be stopping by to pick her up after I leave for the funeral.”

“Lily’s parents are gone?”

“They left a few minutes before Ian arrived. Where were you? I’m surprised you didn’t hear them. Mrs. Miller isn’t exactly quiet.” Danielle set the paper on the table.

“I returned about the time Ian was leaving. I heard his voice, but when I came downstairs he was gone.”

Danielle arched her brows, looking at Walt curiously. “Returned? Returned from where? Since when have you been able to leave Marlow House?”

“A little dream hopping.”

“Ah, visiting Lily?” Danielle grinned.

“Yes. Our visit was interrupted when a nurse woke her up. Which was a shame, because, we were just getting ready to go skydiving.”

“Skydiving?”

“Lily’s getting a little antsy. I thought an outing would be good for both of us.”

“Wow, skydiving?” Danielle muttered. “Aside from being antsy, how is she?”

“Excited to see Ian. Anxious to get out of the hospital. Still furious over the tattoo.”

“I don’t know what she can do about that. I understand they can remove tattoos, but I’ve heard that can be more painful than getting one, and her arm still won’t look like it did.”

“Do women today really have as many tattoos as I see on television?” Walt asked.

“It’s pretty common these days.” Danielle shrugged.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“How do you know I don’t?” Danielle teased.

Walt replied with a knowing grin.

“Hey! You promised never to go into my bathroom!” The only place I ever undress in this house.

“That was before you set the ground rules. And you weren’t in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well, that was obviously before I considered I might have an audience if I undressed in my own bedroom.”

“You keep forgetting, it is also my bedroom,” Walt smirked.

“Used to be your room.”

“You never answered my question. Why no tattoo?”

“I don’t care for pain. Or putting anything that permanent on my body.”

When Danielle started to get up to get a cup of coffee, Walt told her to sit back down and went to pour her a cup.

“What’s so interesting?” Walt asked when he returned to the table with Danielle’s coffee.

“It’s the article about Isabella’s uncle. Guess I don’t have to keep mum about all the stuff the chief told me, it’s all in here. Plus some stuff I didn’t know.”

“Like what?” Walt asked.

“They have the tattoo artist Stoddard hired. The guy totally gave it up, admitted to taking a hefty bribe from Isabella’s uncle to tattoo an unconscious woman. In exchange for the money he had to duplicate Isabella’s tat, no questions asked. Apparently he held up his side of the bargain right up until the cops knocked on his door.”

“Do you think Gusarov’s attorney will be able to discredit him?”

“Doesn’t look like it. Gusarov paid with a check, even signed it himself.”

“Gusarov doesn’t sound like a criminal mastermind.”

“I don’t know about that.” Danielle closed the paper and set it back on the table. She looked at Walt. “If it hadn’t been for my—gift—then he could have gotten away with it. Even if I had someway stumbled into the estate and found Lily, without finding Isabella’s body, Lily would now be out of the country, and Gusarov could have very well gotten away with it. After all, when Joe saw Lily the first time, he insisted it was Isabella.”

D
anielle left
for the cemetery at 9:30 a.m., hoping to see Isabella. Cheryl hadn’t hung around for her funeral. She had moved on weeks before her service, which was one reason why Danielle knew spirits didn’t necessarily stick around to witness their send off. She hoped Isabella was still lingering. There were still a few questions she wanted to ask her.

While Danielle had always been uncomfortable at cemeteries, the few times she had visited the Frederickport Cemetery she hadn’t been overwhelmed with spirits. The only two she had encountered there were Angela and Isabella. She was hoping today to see just one—Isabella’s.

Danielle parked near the chapel. It was on the opposite end of the cemetery from Angela’s grave. One perk of parking on this side of the cemetery, she might avoid being drawn into a conversation with Angela. She simply did not want to deal with Walt’s wife today.

Before leaving that morning she had talked to Adam on the phone, who told her where in the cemetery Isabella’s family plot was located. It wasn’t far from the chapel. Since the services weren’t to start for another thirty minutes, she had a little time to visit Isabella’s gravesite—and hopefully talk to her.

If anyone had arrived early for the service, they were already in the chapel, because Danielle didn’t see anyone meandering in the area. She began walking toward the gravesite.

It was another sunny day in Frederickport. The temperatures had been hovering in the seventies. Danielle wore a lavender dress, which garnered compliments from Walt before she left Marlow House that morning. She had decided to wear her hair—still holding a curl from the recent braid—free flowing.

Danielle walked by a dozen or more grave markers when she came upon an elderly woman kneeling by a headstone. The sound of Danielle’s shoes crunching the gravel along the walkway caught the woman’s attention. She turned from the headstone and looked up at Danielle, a friendly smile on her wrinkled face.

“Good morning. Lovely day, isn’t it?” the woman said as she stood up and brushed her hands off on the skirt of her pink and white gingham sundress. On her head she wore a floppy white hat, its wide brim shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Yes it is,” Danielle stopped by the woman and glanced down at the headstone.

“My husband…” the woman nodded to the grave. “I like to come down here and tidy up his grave.” She then lowered her voice and said, “I’m afraid they just don’t keep the place up like they used to.”

“I imagine he appreciates that.”

“Oh he does,” the woman said with a smile.

Danielle silently read the dates on the headstone. The woman had lost her husband ten years earlier. Danielle wondered how often the elderly woman visited her husband. Since Lucas’ funeral, Danielle had not been back to his grave—not even when the marker was set.

“It’s what we do for someone we love,” the woman said.

Danielle looked back at the marker. This time she noticed the surname: MacDonald.

“That’s the police chief’s last name. Are you related?” Danielle asked.

The woman broke into a broad smile. “Why yes dear, he’s my grandson. Are you one of his friends?”

“Umm, I don’t really know him well, but we’ve met.”

“Are you married dear?”

“No.” Danielle couldn’t bring herself to say,
No, I’m a widow
.

“What is wrong with my grandson? A pretty, single girl like you, and he hasn’t tried to snatch you up?”

“Isn’t your grandson married?” Danielle couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh no dear, he lost his wife a few years ago. Cancer. Such a shame, their two boys and all. They need a mother. Do you like children?”

“Umm…” Danielle blushed. “I don’t think I’m your grandson’s type.”

“Well, he is a foolish boy then. You are absolutely lovely! And I think you’d make a wonderful mother for those boys.”

Danielle started to respond, but something caught her eye. It was Isabella. She was walking in her direction and then suddenly she flew by—moving in the direction of the chapel.

Crap, I missed her!
Danielle silently cursed. “It was nice meeting you, but I should head to the chapel.”

“We didn’t really meet,” the woman reminded. “You never told me your name.”

“I’m Danielle Boatman, ma’am.” Danielle wondered what Chief MacDonald might have said about her—the infamous innkeeper who’d recently come into not just one but two sizable inheritances. The news of her arrest for her cousin’s murder—even though it had been brief—had made it into the local newspaper.

If the chief’s grandmother recognized the name, she made no indication of the fact. Instead, she said, “My name’s Kathrine MacDonald. You can call me Kathy. Although when my grandson was little he’d call me Gamma Kat.”

“It was nice to meet you Kathy,” Danielle smiled.

“And I enjoyed meeting you. When you see that grandson of mine, tell him to start paying attention to what’s in front of him.”

W
hen Danielle reached the chapel
, people were starting to arrive. She recognized a number of them, including Susan Mitchell from the bank. She was surprised to see Stoddard and his wife, but figured he must be out on bail.

Standing at the door to the chapel, waiting for the people in front of her to go in, she heard someone behind her say, “Good morning Ms. Boatman.” Danielle turned around. It was the police chief.

“Morning Chief,” Danielle greeted.

“I’m a little surprised to see you here, considering you’d never met Isabella Strickland.”

“I figured with all that’s happened, I should at least come and pay my respects.”

“I suppose I understand that.”

“By the way, I just met your grandmother Kathrine, although she tells me you used to call her Gamma Kat,” Danielle teased.

“Excuse me?” the chief frowned.

Danielle pointed in the direction of the cemetery. “She was over at your grandfather’s grave. Said she was tidying it up, she’s not really happy with how they’re maintaining the cemetery. I thought it was sweet. Do you know if she visits your grandfather’s grave often?”

“Did she say anything else?” The chief’s voice sounded strained.

Danielle eyed his odd expression. He seemed uncomfortable. Then it hit her. She suspected his grandmother Kathrine had a habit of playing matchmaker, perhaps in the same way Marie did with Adam, often with embarrassing consequences.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Danielle said, trying to soothe his discomfort.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Yeah, she did do the matchmaker thing—if that’s why you look so appalled. Don’t worry; I understand how grandmas can be sometime. I just love Marie, but she’s constantly trying to hook up her grandson. While I don’t care if she does it with other women, when she tries to get Adam and me together, it’s awkward.”

“My Grandmother Kathrine passed away last year,” he said, his expression blank.

“Oh crap,” Danielle groaned under her breath.

D
anielle took
a seat on the end of the back row. Sitting alone, she inwardly groaned over her brief conversation outside the chapel with the police chief. After announcing his grandmother had passed away last year, he walked away from Danielle, without looking back. She could only imagine what he might be thinking now.

She watched as more people poured into the chapel, filling the seats. Looking across the room, she spied the chief sitting with the receptionist from the police station. He stared at her, his expression unreadable. Embarrassed, Danielle quickly looked away.

Two rows up, she noticed Marie sitting with Adam. The elderly woman gave her a cheery wave and started motioning for her to come up and sit with them. Before Danielle could respond, an elderly man took the empty seat being offered. Marie frowned and gave Danielle a shrug before turning back around to face the front of the chapel. Adam looked to see who his grandmother was waving to and saw Danielle. He smiled and gave a brief salute, before turning back around.

Glancing around the room, Danielle didn’t see Joe or Brian and wondered if either of them planned to attend the service. The back row began filling up, yet the two seats closest to Danielle remained empty.

“It looks like a good turnout,” came an unexpected voice next to Danielle. It was Isabella, sitting in the seat next to her. Isabella anxiously looked around the chapel, curious to see who was attending her service.

Placing her hand over her mouth to conceal the movements of her lips, Danielle whispered, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Here I am,” Isabella said cheerfully. “I see Uncle Stoddard is here with his wretched wife. He wasn’t always so bad. He was actually very good to me when I was growing up. But then he kept getting married, and each wife was worse than the previous one.”

“Can you meet me after the service, somewhere so we can talk?” Danielle whispered, her hand still covering her lips.

“I suppose,” Isabella said reluctantly. “I almost didn’t come today, but then thought it will probably be the last time I see many of my friends—well, until they join me. I assume they will eventually join me, won’t they?” Isabella turned to Danielle as if she might have the answer.

“I think so,” Danielle muttered as she faked a cough, her hand now fisted over her mouth.

“I suppose it would look funny if we got into a discussion around all these people.” Isabella giggled. “Makes me wonder about a homeless man I used to see wandering the streets in Portland. He’d talk to himself. But, maybe he really was talking to someone.” Isabella looked over at Danielle. “Perhaps he was like you and could see people like me.”

Danielle smiled weakly, as she glanced around, looking to see if anyone was watching her. She was too embarrassed to look over the chief’s way. Considering what she had told him about his deceased grandmother, the last thing she wanted was for him to witness her talking to herself. She lowered her hands to her lap, sitting up straight in her seat.

“After the service, I’ll meet you by the trees over at my gravesite. But I can only stay a few minutes. It’s time for me to move on.”

Danielle looked at Isabella, meeting her gaze. She smiled and gave her a little nod, then turned her attention to the front of the chapel.

“They’re burying me by my mother. She and I weren’t close. Truth be told, I barely knew her. I wonder if I will see her when I move on.”

Suddenly Isabella noticed Adam sitting up with his grandmother. “Oh, there’s Adam!” Isabella sat up straighter and began to wave, calling, “Adam, hey it’s—” Realizing her blunder, Isabella let out a sigh and sat back in her seat. “Well that was stupid. I keep forgetting they can’t see me or hear me.”

Isabella continued to watch Adam. “I dated Adam for about a year. My uncle loathed him. I believe the feeling was mutual. Uncle Stoddard was convinced Adam was only with me for my money. What he didn’t know, if Adam wanted me for my money he certainly wasn’t prepared to marry for it. That’s why we broke up. I swear, if that boy so much as heard wedding bells he broke out into hives.” Isabella let out a long sigh and added, “But he could sure be a lot of fun.”

The chapel grew quiet as the minister approached the pulpit and faced the mourners. After welcoming the group to celebrate the life of Isabella Gusarov Strickland, he started to tell her story. Overhead a slide show presentation began to play, showing still shots of Isabella, beginning when she was just a small child.

“I don’t know why they’re having him do my eulogy,” Isabella said as the minister continued to talk. “I think he’s Uncle Stoddard’s minister, but I never went to that church. I wonder what the minister thinks about what Uncle Stoddard did. I would assume the entire town knows. Things like that get around fast in Frederickport. I was there when they arrested him.”

Danielle glanced over to Isabella, curious to hear what she had to say.

“Poor Uncle Stoddard, did it all for nothing. I changed my will months ago. If I would have just told him, instead of putting the new will in his file cabinet at his house, then none of this would have happened.”

Danielle’s eyes widened at the news.
Could this mean Earthbound Spirits is not the beneficiary of Isabella’s will?

“I don’t see anyone here from Earthbound Spirits. Back then, when I originally changed my will, I told them I’d be leaving my estate to them. It was just sort of what was expected for members to do. I never gave them a copy of the will—although they repeatedly asked for one. I think that’s what disenchanted me with the group. I suspect they already know I changed my will back, which is why they aren’t here making a show—pretending they care I’m dead. But poor stupid Uncle Stoddard, he doesn’t have a clue.”

Something the minister said caught Isabella’s attention. She stopped talking and started listening to her eulogy. Danielle only half listened, instead, trying to remember all the questions she wanted to ask Isabella when she had her chance—because it appeared it would be her last opportunity.

Opening her purse, Danielle pulled out a pen and a small pad of notepaper. She began jotting down words—bracelet, diamonds, Lily… When Danielle was finished making her list she looked up and found Isabella gone. Looking around the chapel, she didn’t see her anywhere. Tucking her notebook and pen back in her purse, Danielle prayed Isabella would keep her word and meet with her one last time.

After the service Marie—with Adam in tow—caught up with Danielle and insisted the three go together to the gravesite portion of the service. Marie took Danielle’s left arm, while Adam walked along Danielle’s other side.

“You were sure right about Lily,” Adam said as they walked toward the gravesite.

“I’m surprised Stoddard dare show his face today!” Marie snapped. “The man should be in jail!”

“From what I understand, he’s out on bail,” Danielle explained.

“How is poor Lily doing? I’ve wanted to stop by the hospital and see her, but Adam said I should wait.”

“She’s improving every day. I don’t know if you heard, but they had to operate on her leg the night they found her—emergency surgery. She had an infection and it settled there.”

“No! I didn’t hear that. Is she going to be all right?” Marie tightened her hold on Danielle’s arm.

“She’s going to be fine, but she has to have six weeks of IV antibiotics, three times a day. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to stay in the hospital for the treatments. We’re hoping she’ll be released on Monday. She’ll be staying at Marlow House while she recuperates.”

“Doesn’t she have an apartment and job back in California?” Adam asked.

“Well, she did, until everyone thought she was dead. Her parents cleaned out her apartment, and another teacher has taken over her class. Of course, she’s in no shape to go back to teaching right now, anyway.”

“Stoddard needs to pay for what he did to that poor girl!” Marie fumed.

“I never cared for Stoddard, but even I’m surprised he pulled something like this,” Adam said.

When they reached the gravesite with the other mourners, Danielle looked to the right and saw Isabella waiting some distance away, under a grove of trees. The minister said a few more words over the casket, before ending the service.

Mourners milled around, chatting with one and other. Marie and Adam knew most of those attending the service. Handshakes, hugs and introductions moved steadily through the crowd.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Danielle said after Marie introduced her to another couple. Adam had moved to the other side of the crowd, talking to people he knew. “I promised I’d give Lily a call right after the service,” Danielle lied as she held up her cellphone and nodded toward the grouping of trees where she was heading.

By the time Danielle reached Isabella, Marie was already involved in a conversation with the couple she had introduced to Danielle.

Isabella watched the crowd mill around her gravesite. She glanced at Danielle who held a phone by her ear. “I thought you wanted to talk. Who are you calling?”

“No one. But I figured I’d look less strange if people thought I was talking on the phone.”

“Very clever. I just realized, you’re the one who inherited Marlow House. You’re the one who found the Missing Thorndike.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I was going to come to your open house with a friend of mine from the bank, but then I heard Adam was going to be there with—well I guess it was your cousin.”

“You still cared for him?”

“I’ve always been in love with Adam.” Isabella sighed. “Is there something going on between you two?”

“Me and Adam?” Danielle cringed at the thought.

“I noticed you walking with him.”

“No. I’m good friends with his grandmother, that’s all.”

“Marie was always nice to me. I think she wanted Adam to marry me. But if you like him, it’s okay. I mean, I want Adam to be happy.”

“No, seriously. There is nothing between Adam and me.”

“Whatever.” Isabella shrugged. “So, what do you want to ask me?”

“Your bracelet, the one you had custom made. Do you know what happened to it?”

“Do you mean this one?” Isabella put out her wrist for Danielle to see. The bracelet she wore matched the one found in the teapot. Danielle knew it was only an illusion. No more real than Walt’s cigars, despite the smell of smoke.

“Yes.”

“Let’s see.” Isabella considered the question a moment. “The latch kept coming undone. I was afraid I was going to lose it, so I decided to take it to the jeweler to have them fix it. I stuck it in my car’s glove compartment, but then I got that horrid headache so I went home instead and took a nap. I think that’s when…when I died.”

“You never took it out of your glove compartment?”

“No.” Isabella looked down at the bracelet. “But that really doesn’t matter now, I have it again.”

“Do you know anything about diamonds hidden in Marlow House?”

“Diamonds? You don’t mean my story, do you?”

“Story?”

“I’m a writer,” Isabella explained.

“Yes, I heard you liked to write. But what does that have to do with diamonds hidden in Marlow House?”

“After you found the Missing Thorndike I came up with a plot for a mystery about a jewel thief. In the story, he doesn’t just steal the Missing Thorndike; he steals valuable diamonds and hides them in his house, which remain there for almost a hundred years, waiting to be discovered. The story is written in first person, from the perspective of a woman who finds his diary at a local thrift store and she uncovers the clues about the missing diamonds. Why are you asking about my story?”

“In your story, you didn’t happen to mention Marlow House by name, did you?”

“Yes, but I intended to change it. I just couldn’t think of what to call it at the time, so I used its real name.”

“Is it possible someone got a hold of your story and thought it was real?”

Isabella considered the question for a moment. As if a light bulb went off, she smiled and said, “I know exactly who did—Hunter.”

“Hunter?”
Hank’s other name, according to Walt.

“He stole my car. Him and those two skanks. I didn’t realize at the time that Uncle Stoddard was the one who left it at the beach parking lot—or that I was dead. I was confused and went with them.”

“How did he read your story?” Danielle asked.

“He found my notebook. I’d left it in my car. They didn’t find it until after they cleaned it out, taking what they wanted before abandoning it at that rest stop. After Hank read it, he thought it was true. Stupid man.”

“Who hurt my friend Lily?”

“That was Hunter and Justina. Justina is Hunter’s cousin. Of course, Claire didn’t try to stop them. She was just as guilty. Justina was the one that actually hit her with the rock, when your friend stepped out of the woman’s bathroom. But don’t worry about Justina; she can’t hurt anyone anymore. She didn’t want to fly to Oregon so she talked Hunter into letting her drive your friend’s car back while he and Claire flew.”

“Was she the one killed in my friend’s car?”

“Yes. After the accident, I found her at a nearby gas station. She was trying to get people to help her. Of course, no one could see or hear her. Except for me. I followed her back to the motel Hunter and Claire were staying at. I actually felt a little sorry for her. She was so confused.”

Danielle tried to process all that Isabella was telling her. If she understood correctly, the Stewarts were actually the people who tried to kill Lily. They’d slept in her home. She’d made them breakfast. Danielle felt ill.

“You know what’s funny?” Isabella asked. Danielle couldn’t imagine anything about this being funny. “I think sometimes Hunter could hear me—or at least sense my presence.”