“Okay. But I’ll need to come back later and talk with your wife,” the chief said.
“Chief MacDonald, my wife is a private person. She also doesn’t feel comfortable around strangers. I can assure you this missing woman is not her. But if you would like Danielle to talk to her when she returns later, I’m sure she won’t mind. But quite frankly, I know my wife, sir, and she would not be comfortable talking with you. Zara is dealing with some issues, and she does not need the additional stress of an unnecessary interrogation from a perfect stranger.”
“What kind of issues?”
Noah stared at the chief for a moment before answering. “None that need concern the local police, but if you must know, she is a bit phobic. I’m sure Danielle can attest to that. She doesn’t like shaking hands or unnecessary physical contact. She prefers small groups, and while she’s friendly after she gets to know someone, she would have difficulty with the type of interrogation you’re suggesting. Chief MacDonald, we are here on our vacation. I’m sorry this woman is missing, but it has nothing to do with us.”
Max, he just said his wife is phobic—it means she’s afraid of things. Maybe she’s afraid of cats, Walt suggested.
Danielle glanced to the chief. “This probably is some bizarre coincidence. I can talk to Zara when she gets back. And I’m sure she’ll verify what her husband just told you. Noah’s right, this is their vacation, and it’s not really fair to put her through this.”
The chief looked at Danielle for a moment, considering her suggestion. Finally, he nodded and said, “I suppose that will work. Like you said, it’s probably just a bizarre coincidence.”
Ten minutes later Danielle stood outside by the police car with MacDonald.
“So you really believe it’s just a coincidence?” the chief asked.
“I don’t know what to believe. But I do know Zara doesn’t seem comfortable around strangers. She never comes downstairs when Chris’s uncles are around. She claims she isn’t a breakfast person, but maybe she just doesn’t like being around that many people at one time. But she hasn’t seemed to have a problem talking to Walt or myself.” She then added with a laugh, “As long as I don’t try shaking her hand.”
“I do wonder—is she here of her own free will?” the chief asked. “Is Noah controlling her somehow?”
Danielle shrugged. “I haven’t noticed anything like that. He’ll leave her here and go out without her—and I know she’s taken walks on the beach without him. And she’s in town by herself now. So it’s not like they’re always together. But I’ll talk to her.”
“It’s always possible she is this missing person, but not because she’s been held against her will, but because she wants to disappear,” the chief suggested.
When Danielle returned to the house a few minutes later, she was greeted by Walt.
“I think Noah lied about Zara walking to town,” he told her.
“Why do you say that?” Danielle asked.
“Because after you went outside with the chief, Noah went to the kitchen to get some cookies, and I headed upstairs. When I went by their room, the door was ajar. Zara was in there. I saw her. She was standing by the window, looking outside. I don’t think she saw me.”
Danielle glanced toward the kitchen. “So he lied?”
“Either that or she came back when we were in the living room, and she went upstairs without us seeing her. There is another thing,” Walt said.
“What?”
“Max is convinced Zara hates him. His feelings are hurt.”
“Hates him? Did she do something to him?”
“Other than ignore him—refuse to look at him, no.”
“That’s good. I thought maybe she did something to my sweet cat. Like kicked him or something.”
Walt arched his brow. “Sweet cat?”
“He is sweet,” she said defensively.
“Tell that to the poor rodents he terrorizes.”
“You’re going to have to talk to Danielle,” Noah said after he returned to their bedroom.
“Talk to her about what?”
Noah recounted the conversation he’d had with the chief.
With a sigh she took a seat at the foot of the bed. “I wondered why you guys were taking so long.”
“I thought you might have overheard our conversation from the hallway.” Noah sat down on a chair next to the bed.
Zara shook her head. “Not with that cat out there. I looked out, saw him walking toward the living room.”
“The cat is the least of our problems.”
Zara studied Noah for a moment. “Did you really tell them we met in middle school?”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Zara chuckled. “What were you, twelve? You were so angry.”
“I had a reason to be angry,” he said. “They killed my mother.”
“And for all intents and purposes, my mother killed herself. When we were kids, I used to wonder which was worse.”
“Did it really matter?”
Zara pulled her feet up on the bed and wrapped her arms around her bent legs. “I suppose not in the big picture. We both ended up in the same place.”
“You were the first person I ever trusted,” he said. “But now…”
Zara shook her head. “Don’t go there, Noah.”
Thirty
Bella persistently batted at the coffee cup, sending it closer and closer to the desk’s edge. Hunny stood nearby, watching the calico cat, anticipating the inevitable. Oblivious to her cat’s antics and the potential minor disaster, Heather gave the man on the telephone her lunch order. The crash came at the precise moment the call ended.
Heather jumped up and spied the shattered ceramic cup, its contents spilling on the floor. “Bella!”
The unrepentant cat sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at what she had done, her tail swishing back and forth. Hunny retreated to her dog bed, hiding her head in its cushion.
“You little heathen!” Heather shouted, grabbing the cat from the desk and tossing it away from the broken mess.
Chris, who had been standing in the entry talking to his uncles, peeked his head into the room and asked, “Did Bella kill another cup?”
“She does this to torment me,” Heather grumbled as she got down on her hands and knees to clean up the mess.
Chris laughed and then turned his attention back to his uncles.
“Why do you let her bring that cat to work?” Simon asked.
“Why not? I bring Hunny.”
“Not quite the same thing, son,” Loyd said. “I think that girl takes advantage of you.”
“You don’t like Heather much, do you?” Chris asked.
Loyd shrugged. “I just don’t want to see someone take advantage of your good nature. You’re a lot like your mother, you know. Always trying to save someone.”
“Like an orphan kid?” Chris asked.
Loyd reached out and patted Chris’s arm. “I understand why you think that way.”
“Think what way?” Chris asked.
“That we don’t see you as a real Glandon. It’s understandable you believe that, considering what we tried to do, and how it looked. But in our misguided attempt to protect you, we allowed ourselves to listen to our attorneys when we went to court. They lost sight of what our real intention was—they just wanted to win—and we were too close to the situation to realize what was really happening.”
Chris glanced briefly over to the doorway leading to where Heather was working. “You don’t need to worry about Heather. She’s alright.”
“Can I make one suggestion?” Simon asked.
“What’s that?” Chris asked.
“You said you have a meeting with your Realtor this afternoon, the one who brought you that candy.”
“Umm…yes, what about it?”
“You told us he wasn’t just your Realtor but a good friend. I suspect he’s someone you might discuss business with—maybe even bounce ideas off?” Simon asked.
Chris shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Then get a second opinion. We don’t expect you to take our advice, especially considering everything. But talk to your friend, tell him some of the things we’ve noticed since we’ve been here. Maybe you’ll be surprised. Perhaps he’s noticed the same things we have and just didn’t want to say anything. You’ve no idea how many times we had to fire someone, and then later close confidants would tell us they were glad we let the employee go, and then they would go on to tell us what they had witnessed the employee do. I always wondered why they didn’t just say something earlier. But they typically won’t, not unless you ask them. Just ask him.”
Chris was spared responding to his uncle’s suggestion when Heather walked into the room the next moment.
“I’m going to go pick up my lunch,” she announced.
Chris glanced at his watch. “And I need to head over to Adam’s.”
Danielle sat alone at the kitchen table, jotting down on a pad of paper what she intended to prepare for Christmas dinner. Lily and Ian were hosting a Christmas Eve gathering, which would mean all she would need to do was bring some of the cookies she had already made. Lily had invited Chris’s uncles, along with the Bishops, but Danielle already knew Mr. Bishop had declined. According to him, he and his wife were planning something else for tomorrow night.
“Danielle, Noah said you wanted to talk to me,” Zara said from the open doorway.
“Hello, Zara. Yes, I’d like to talk to you. Can you come sit with me?” Danielle leaned over to the next chair and pulled it out for her.
Zara smiled at the gesture. She walked into the kitchen and sat down in the chair.
“Noah told me about the police chief stopping by this afternoon. It’s a crazy coincidence, this woman that you say looks just like me, has the same first name, but it isn’t me. Honest.”
Danielle glanced back to the doorway leading to the hallway and then back to Zara. ‘Where is Noah?”
“He’s up in our room taking a nap. Why?”
Danielle leaned forward and started to touch Zara’s hand but stopped when Zara lurched back, obviously terrified at the prospect. Danielle quickly changed course and pulled back into her own chair, folding her hands on her lap. Zara visibly relaxed as Danielle retreated.
“I just want you to know you are safe here. If you need any help, I’m here for you.”
Zara smiled at Danielle. “Oh, you think maybe I’m this other Zara, and Noah is somehow threatening me? Maybe he kidnapped me and is keeping me hostage?”
“I’m just saying if you need help, all you have to do is tell me.”
“I’m fine, Danielle. It’s really sweet of you, but I’m not in danger. I’m not a missing person. And Noah is the kindest man I know. He is the last person in the world who would ever hurt or threaten me.”
Danielle studied Zara for a moment and then smiled. “I hope you understand, I had to ask.”
Zara nodded. “Yes I do. I just don’t want to deal with some police interrogation. I’d rather enjoy my Christmas holiday.”
“No problem, I’ll tell the chief it isn’t you,” Danielle conceded. “It was just so weird…seriously, maybe you have a twin sister out there that you don’t know about.”
“I seriously doubt that. But I do feel bad this woman is missing. What her family must be going through.” Zara shook her head at the thought.
“According to the information, she doesn’t have any family,” Danielle explained.
“Really? Well, that’s sad. Everyone should have family. If her family isn’t looking for her, who is?”
“I don’t think the chief mentioned this to your husband, but the missing person’s notice didn’t come from another police department, it came from the missing woman’s roommate.”
Zara arched her brow. “Her roommate?”
Danielle nodded. “When the other Zara disappeared, she didn’t take anything with her, not even her cameras. She’s a freelance photographer. The roommate didn’t feel the police were putting much effort into finding her, so she sent out the flyers.”
“Do you have any idea why she sent one here?” Zara asked.
“Apparently the roommate decided to do her own sleuthing. The missing woman had used her computer, so she started looking into her search history. A number of websites she had visited were from Frederickport.”
Zara smiled. “Really? My, that is resourceful of the roommate.”
“Yes, and if you had been the missing woman, we could say it was pretty good detective work.”
Zara stood up. “Yes, we could. Thanks again for taking care of this and talking to your police chief for me.”
“Sure, no problem.” Danielle smiled.
“Thank you, Danielle. That makes me feel much better.” Zara stood up and flashed Danielle a smile and then headed to the doorway leading to the hallway.
Danielle turned in her chair, preparing to ask Zara a final question. But she froze when she noticed something on the back of Zara’s neck—a tattoo—a feather tattoo.
Thirty-One
Danielle found Walt in the parlor with Max. The pair sat together on the sofa, and by the looks of the two, they were in the midst of a conversation. She stood in the doorway and watched them. It fascinated her how he could still communicate with most cats and dogs. Neither knew she was standing there. After a moment Walt looked up and noticed her in the doorway. He smiled.
“It’s her,” Danielle said as she walked into the room and shut the door behind her.
“She admitted being the missing person?” Walt asked.
Danielle walked to the sofa and picked up Max. He meowed. She sat next to Walt and settled Max on her lap. He began to purr. “No, just the opposite. She swore it wasn’t her, just some bizarre coincidence.”
“Then why do you think it’s her?” he asked.
“Because having the same name as a missing woman who looks identical to her might be a wild coincidence—but to have the same tattoo, I think not.”
“She has a feather tattoo on the back of her neck?” Walt asked.
Danielle nodded. “She does.”
Walt leaned back in the sofa, silently considering what Danielle was telling him. He could hear Max’s loud purr. The cat was clearly enjoying Danielle’s attention as she gently stroked his back.
Finally, Walt said, “She doesn’t want to be found. She must have her reasons.”
Danielle sighed and leaned back in the sofa. She propped her feet up on the coffee table. Max remained on her lap. “Plus, that notice of her disappearance didn’t come from law enforcement. It came from a woman who claimed to be her roommate.”
Walt looked down at the cat curled up on Danielle’s lap. “Max and I were just discussing her.”
“You mentioned she seemed to have an issue with him.”
“He claims she’s always telling him to go away.”
“How does he know that’s what she’s saying?” Danielle teased. “Cats are notorious for misunderstanding what us living humans are telling them. Just the other day I told Max to stay off my bed, and he hopped right on it.”
Walt laughed. “I suspect that was more a case of Max ignoring what you were saying, as opposed to not understanding.”
“I think you’re right.” Danielle leaned down and kissed the top of Max’s head.
“What are you going to tell the chief?” Walt asked.
“Just what we know. I don’t imagine he’s obligated to do anything, since that wasn’t an official missing person’s bulletin. But I would like to know more about the people staying under my roof.”
Walt considered Danielle’s words for a moment before suggesting, “I think you should take them some milk and cookies.”
Danielle stood at the door to Noah and Zara’s room, holding a serving tray with a plate of cookies and two glasses of cold milk. Juggling the tray in one hand, she knocked on the door. A moment later, the door opened a few inches, and Noah peeked out into the hallway.
Noah opened the door wider and eyed the tray in Danielle’s hands.
“Cookies?” He smiled.
Danielle handed Noah the tray. “I’m sorry for any stress I caused you and your wife.” She looked past Noah and spied Zara standing by the window, watching her. “I wasn’t sure how I could make it up to you, but I figure cookies always help me.”
Noah’s smile broadened as he accepted the tray. “Your cookies are difficult to resist.”
“I hope you enjoy them. I wasn’t sure if you both liked milk with your cookies.”
“I certainly do. Thank you,” Zara said.
“You can just leave the tray outside your room when you’re done,” Danielle said before leaving.
Danielle went to her bedroom and shut the door, leaving it open a few inches. Walt was already inside, sitting on the edge of her bed. Together they waited. Fifteen minutes later she heard the Bishops’ door open and close. She peeked outside and spied the tray sitting on the floor outside their door. The glasses and plate were empty.
Danielle slipped out of her room and picked up the tray. She headed downstairs with Walt following along beside her. Once they got in the kitchen, Danielle set the tray on the counter.
Just as she started to pick up one of the glasses, it flew up, away from her hand, and Walt yelled, “Don’t touch it!”
“I was just going to put it in the sack,” Danielle explained, pointing to the sack she had set on the counter earlier.
“And get your fingerprints on it?” The glass hovered above the counter. “You were meticulous cleaning both of those glasses before filling them with milk, wiping them down, and setting them on the tray, free of any prints. And now you plan to get your prints all over them, maybe smudge theirs?”
“I guess I didn’t think.” With a sigh, she reached for the paper bag and opened it. Holding it wide open, she watched as the airborne glass floated over to the sack and gently dropped into it. A moment later, the second glass lifted from the tray and joined the first glass. Carefully, she folded closed the top of the paper bag and then looked at Walt. “Thank you.”
The Ghost of Christmas Secrets Page 20