“What’s the deal with those two?”
“I think Heather just works for him. I know he used to date Danielle Boatman, but they’re not dating anymore.”
“Danielle Boatman, she was in the restaurant tonight. I knew it was her, she’s been in a few times, but the reservation was under Walt Marlow’s name. He’s been in a couple of times too. Now, he’s another cutie. I wouldn’t mind his attention.”
“Both Chris and Walt are single. I’ll admit I’ve tried to get Chris’s attention, with no luck. And Walt—his fiancée was killed in a car accident about two months ago.”
“I don’t think Walt Marlow is single anymore.”
“Why do you say that?” Carla asked.
“Like I told you, he was in the restaurant tonight with Danielle Boatman.”
Carla shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. Danielle owns Marlow House, it’s a bed and breakfast. It’s just down the street, that big ol’ Victorian. He’s a guest staying there, which is why they were probably out to dinner together.”
“Does Danielle Boatman kiss all her guests?” Mindi snickered.
Carla gasped. “Are you saying you saw them kissing?”
Mindi nodded. “Right there in their booth. I was about to suggest they get a room.”
Max greeted Walt and Danielle at the kitchen door. He weaved in and out between Danielle’s feet until she picked him up.
“He’s jealous,” Walt told her.
“Jealous?” Still holding the cat in her arms, she looked down at his white-tipped ears. He began to purr.
“Because you spent the evening out with me.”
“Are you going to tell him we’re getting married?” Danielle asked.
Walt looked to the cat in her arms and frowned. “I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”
“Not from the animals, they won’t tell anyone.”
Walt arched his brow at Danielle. “Really? The minute Marie shows up, Max will blab to her. And you think Marie is going to keep quiet? She’ll tell Eva, and you know who Eva will tell?”
“Chris?” Danielle asked.
Walt nodded.
She let out a sigh and set Max on the kitchen floor. “You’re right. Let’s not tell the cat—or any of them.”
“It would probably be prudent.” Walt glanced at the kitchen clock. “It’s getting late. If we’re going to get up early and head to Astoria in the morning, we should probably call it a night.”
Danielle looked up mischievously at Walt. “We’re all alone in the house,” she whispered.
“Max might disagree with you.”
“I can take care of Max. I’ll lock him in Lily’s old room.” She grinned.
Walt pulled Danielle into his arms and kissed her nose before saying, “That won’t be necessary. I’m sleeping in my new bed tonight—and you’re sleeping in your room.”
Danielle frowned. “I am?”
Walt nodded. “For the next five nights, no spooning…no midnight chats in either of our beds.”
“Why not?”
Walt grinned. “Because the next time we share a bed, it will be on our wedding night.”
“I’m okay with waiting until our wedding night, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do what we’ve been doing.”
Walt let out a sigh and pulled her a little closer. “I don’t have a cast on anymore. Not that it wouldn’t have been possible with a cast—but seriously, if we’re going to wait until our wedding night, I think we need to sleep in our own beds—alone—until then.”
Danielle moved out of Walt’s arms and then took his hand and started pulling him toward the door leading to the hallway. “Okay, Walt, let’s get to bed so Monday will get here sooner.”
Walt chuckled and walked with Danielle, hand in hand, toward the staircase.
“When Monday does get here, where do you want to spend our wedding night?” Walt asked.
Danielle stopped a moment and looked up at him. “I don’t really want to go anywhere. I’d just like to come back here. Is that alright?”
Walt nodded. “I’d like that. Which room? The attic or your bedroom?”
“Gee, why not both?” Danielle said with a giggle before starting up the stairs.
Six
The stand mixer sat on the center of the kitchen table, its wire whip moving the chocolate cake batter round and round in the enormous stainless steel bowl. Sitting on the table next to the mixer was a large bag filled with gold coins. Danielle sat at the table and watched the batter for a moment before dipping her hand into the bag and pulling out a handful of coins. She dumped them into the bowl and watched as they went round and round with the batter until it turned bright gold.
Just as she grabbed another handful of coins, she heard a beeping sound. She paused a moment. It beeped again. Persistent and irritating, another beep.
Danielle reluctantly opened her eyes and yawned. Another beep came from the alarm clock on her nightstand. Half awake, she reached over and swatted the top of the clock. It stopped beeping.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, she looked up to the ceiling and wondered if Walt was awake yet. It was in that moment she remembered he had proposed the previous night. She smiled at the thought and tugged her blankets up and under her chin, holding them tightly.
“I can’t believe I’m not telling Lily,” she said aloud, yet didn’t for a moment consider changing her mind. For some inexplicable reason, she felt she and Walt needed this time alone—this time together to explore their relationship without being scrutinized by those closest to them.
Before heading downstairs, Danielle quickly dressed for the day, selecting jeans and a pullover sweater. As she zipped up the jeans, she thought about how Walt often referred to them as farm pants. She laughed at the thought but didn’t consider wearing something else. I love Walt, she thought, but I’m not giving up my jeans.
She found him downstairs sitting at the kitchen table, with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll. He was already dressed for the day.
“Good morning,” Walt greeted her as she walked into the kitchen.
“Morning! I could smell the coffee when I was coming down the stairs. So glad I taught you how to use that coffee maker.” Danielle headed toward the counter to pour herself a cup. Before she reached it, the glass coffee pot floated up from where it sat and poured coffee into an empty mug sitting on the counter. Danielle stopped in her tracks and stared at it a moment and then looked over at Walt.
“Here, let me pour you a cup,” Walt said with a chuckle as he remained seated. He leisurely pulled off a hunk of cinnamon roll and popped it in his mouth.
Danielle laughed and said, “That is both sweet and lazy of you.” She watched as the pot floated back to the coffee maker.
“You might want to do your own cream,” Walt suggested. “Not sure about my aim; I might overfill the cup.”
“You crack me up,” she said under her breath as she added cream to her coffee.
Walt watched Danielle walk to the table. “How did you sleep last night?”
“I slept okay. My alarm clock woke me up in the middle of a dream. I was baking our wedding cake.” Danielle took a seat at the table and then reached over and snatched a portion of Walt’s cinnamon roll.
“What flavor?”
“Chocolate and gold.” Danielle took a sip of her coffee.
“Gold?” Walt frowned.
Danielle shrugged. “It was weird. But it did make me think of something when I was getting dressed this morning. Maybe Aaron Michaels could make the gold rings—or at least, he might know who can.”
“I don’t seem to recall who that is.”
“He’s a jeweler in Astoria. We could stop at the bank before we leave today. I can take out some of the gold coins, and after we get the marriage license, we can stop over at his store and talk to him. If he can make the rings, then we can just leave the gold coins with him.”
“Rings?” Walt asked.
Danielle t
ook a sip of her coffee and then said, “I think we should have two wedding bands made—one for me and one for you.”
“You don’t think people will find that odd, us wearing matching rings?”
“You don’t have to actually wear yours—maybe keep it in your pocket. Or on your key ring. But if I have a wedding band, you should have one too.”
“Alright—of course, I don’t actually have a key ring to put it on,” he reminded her.
“You need one. Every grown man has a key ring. Anyway, I need to give you a key to the house and a key to the car.”
“I don’t think it would be a good thing if people see me driving your car.”
Danielle shrugged. “Okay, then we buy you your own car.”
“One thing at a time,” he told her.
Zara glanced down the driveway and spied a vehicle backing up, coming in her direction. She stepped into the bushes along the sidewalk, out of sight, and watched as it pulled onto the street and then drove away. There was a man and woman in the vehicle; the woman was driving. After the car disappeared from sight, she stepped back on the sidewalk and walked about fifteen feet, until she was standing in front of the house. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was Marlow House, the bed and breakfast the two women in the café had been discussing last night.
When researching Chris Glandon online, she had come across an article about a murder at Marlow House, where one of the guests, a Chris Glandon, was initially implicated as a possible suspect. She was fairly certain it was the same Chris Glandon she was looking for, because after that incident, the Glandon Foundation opened its office in Frederickport. But then he disappeared again, leaving the foundation under the management of someone named Chris Johnson. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was the man whom the women were discussing in the restaurant last night.
“Are you lost?” a woman’s voice asked.
Zara turned toward the voice. It was a woman wearing a dark blue jogging suit, her black hair pulled up on the top of her head and twisted into two knots, and a terrycloth headband wrapped around her forehead to catch her sweat. She was slightly out of breath and just stepping up onto the sidewalk as if she had come from across the street.
“Umm…no. Just doing a little sightseeing. This is a really cool house. Is it yours?” Zara nodded toward Marlow House.
The woman looked up to the house in question and back to Zara. “No. That’s actually the first house ever built in Frederickport. It’s a bed and breakfast now, Marlow House.”
“It’s impressive. Well, I’d better get going. I parked my car down at the pier, and I have some friends waiting for me,” Zara lied.
Susan Mitchell watched as Danielle Boatman entered the bank on Thursday morning. She was with Walt Marlow. Susan wondered briefly if Walt was here to deposit more of Danielle’s money into his account. A few minutes later she discovered the real reason Danielle was at the bank—to get into one of her safe deposit boxes.
“That’s the one with the gold coins,” Susan said as she led Danielle back into the vaults, leaving Walt sitting alone at her desk.
“Yes, it is.” Danielle trailed behind Susan.
“Does this mean you’ve found another buyer for the coins?”
“I’m not really in a hurry to sell them anymore.”
When they reached the safe deposit box, Danielle handed Susan her key. After Susan opened the box, Danielle said, “I don’t need to take this in the room alone. Let me just take a few out, and you can put it back.”
Susan watched as Danielle quickly removed one coin at a time. She would inspect each coin before returning it to the safe deposit box or dropping it in her purse. It only took her a couple of minutes. Susan resisted the temptation to ask Danielle what she was going to do with the coins.
“I always get the feeling I make her uncomfortable,” Walt told Danielle after they returned to the car.
“You mean Susan?” Danielle climbed into the driver’s side of the vehicle and slammed her door shut.
“Yes.” Sitting in the passenger seat, Walt fastened his seatbelt.
“I think she was dying to know what I was going to do with the coins.”
“You didn’t tell her?”
Danielle shook her head. “No. But I did what you suggested. I only took coins that were well worn.”
Walt’s cellphone began to ring. “I’m getting a phone call,” he said with surprise.
“Well, answer it.” Danielle started the car.
Walt looked at his ringing phone and said, “It’s Ian. I must say, it’s convenient knowing who’s calling before answering it.”
“It’s going to go to voicemail if you don’t answer it soon,” Danielle warned.
Walt accidentally hit speakerphone after answering the call and then said, “Hello, Ian.”
“Hi, Walt. Where are you? I went over to your house, and no one was there,” Ian asked.
Danielle glanced briefly to Walt. She could clearly hear Ian’s side of the conversation.
“Danielle and I are on our way to Astoria,” Walt told him.
“What are you going there for?” Ian asked.
Walt looked over to Danielle, who sat in the driver’s seat, steering the car down the road. “We’re going to see a jeweler.”
Danielle glanced briefly over to Walt again and arched her brows inquisitively, but didn’t comment.
Before Ian could ask why they were seeing a jeweler, Walt said, “Danielle wanted to see about making some of the gold coins into a ring for her—using a few of the well-worn ones.”
“I don’t know much about coin collecting, but are you sure she couldn’t get more for the coins, even the worn ones, by selling them instead of melting them down?”
“I told her that, but you know Danielle, when she gets an idea, there’s no talking her out of it.”
Danielle furrowed her brows and flashed Walt a frown. He resisted the temptation to laugh.
“So what did you need?” Walt asked.
“I just got off the phone with my agent. He loved your manuscript.”
“Didn’t you just send it to him?” Walt asked.
“Yes, yesterday, after I talked to you. I emailed it to him. He told me he stayed up all night reading it. He couldn’t put it down. I have to say I’m a little jealous; I haven’t heard him this excited in a long time.”
Danielle’s frown turned to a smile. She listened intently to Ian’s every word.
“What does this mean, exactly?” Walt asked.
“He wants to talk to you. I think you have an agent—if you want one,” Ian told him.
When Walt got off the phone, Danielle said, “I think that is amazing about the agent—but what was that all about, it was Danielle’s idea, you know how once she gets an idea, blah, blah, blah…”
“I did it for you,” Walt told her with a grin.
“For me?”
“You were the one who wanted to keep this a secret for a while—even from Lily. If Lily and Ian think it was my idea for you to make a gold band from what was once my gold coins, you don’t think they might figure it out?”
Danielle considered his suggestion for a moment and then let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he said smugly.
Unable to suppress a smile, Danielle said, “I’d tell you not to get so full of yourself, but dang, you got yourself an agent! Jon Altar’s agent! Woo-hoo!”
Seven
Chris pulled up to Marlow House just as Danielle and Walt returned from Astoria on Thursday afternoon. He had come from his office, which was why he drove instead of walked. With his pit bull, Hunny, by his side, he sprinted up the side driveway, meeting Walt and Danielle just as they were about to walk into the back door leading to the kitchen.
Upon seeing Walt, Hunny began squirming from head to tail, lowering her head as her bottom wiggled uncontrollably. She made whimpering sounds. Walt immediately squatted down and welcomed the young dog, roughly scratching along her neck and ac
cepting wet kisses while calming her with his mentally conveyed words.
Chris looked down at the pair and shook his head. Hunny was now sitting, the image of a well-behaved dog. “I don’t get the attraction. Frankly, I question Hunny’s judgment.”
“You’re just jealous that she listens to me,” Walt returned. He stood up, leaving Hunny sitting quietly by his side.
“I’m going to start calling you Dr. Dolittle,” Chris said.
Danielle walked into the kitchen and chuckled, leaving the two men and dog to follow her into the house.
“I’m familiar with the books, but I only read the first one,” Walt noted.
“Books? It’s a movie,” Chris told him.
“You’re both right,” Danielle said as she tossed her purse on the kitchen counter. “I remember reading the Doctor Dolittle books when I was a little girl.”
“After the first one came out, I bought it for a friend’s child,” Walt explained. “I remember reading it to her.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised it was a book first,” Chris said as he took a seat at the table.
“Making yourself at home?” Walt sat down at the table with Chris.
“Where have you two been? I stopped by earlier,” Chris asked.
“We drove over to Astoria for the morning,” Danielle explained.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Walt asked.
Ignoring Walt’s question, Chris asked, “Danielle, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She joined them at the table while Hunny curled up on the floor by Chris’s feet.
“Do you want me to leave so you can talk to her alone?” Walt asked.
“Yes to the first question, no to the second,” Chris said.
Walt frowned. “I only asked you one question.”
Chris laughed and then said, “No, it’s okay, Walt. You don’t need to leave.”
Walt stood up.
“No, you really don’t need to leave. I was just kidding,” Chris said.
The Ghost of Christmas Secrets Page 4