“I thought your grandmother had that all planned.”
“There is the wake afterwards. I was thinking we could have it here.” He glanced around the room. Feet on the coffee table would not be the only thing to annoy Marie if she could see how her family had taken care of her house. Empty and abandoned water glasses and coffee mugs and crumbs littered various tables in the room. A plate with stale food remnants sat on the coffee table, while a pile of newspapers was shoved in the corner with a pair of someone’s shoes. Adam was fairly certain that someone was not Marie. Discarded jackets and hand mittens adorned various pieces of furniture. The place was a mess.
“Wake?”
“Of course, this place needs to be cleaned up first.”
Sondra glanced around the room, surveying its condition. “You going to hire a housekeeper?”
“I was thinking the people staying here could do that.”
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked as she and Warren walked into the living room.
“I came to talk to you about Grandma’s funeral. I thought we should have the wake here.”
“Do you really think we need a wake?” Chloe sat down on Marie’s rocking chair. “It’s not like your father and I kept in touch with anyone from Frederickport.”
“Mother lived here all her life,” Warren reminded her. “Of course we’ll have a wake. It’s expected. And considering the turn of events, it would look bad if we didn’t have one.”
Chloe let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. But Adam needs to get someone over here and have the place cleaned first.”
“Can’t you just do that?” Adam asked. “After all, it was perfectly clean when you got here.”
“I’m not playing housekeeper when your grandmother’s estate can clearly afford to have the damn house cleaned for her wake.”
“Fine. I’ll order some sandwiches from the deli and pastries from Old Salts. And I’ll pick up something to drink,” Adam grumbled.
“Won’t people bring food?” Chloe asked. “From what I remember, that’s what normally happens.”
“I still want to have something. And don’t worry, I’ll pay for it myself,” Adam said.
“Considering that commission you earned from Beach Drive, I guess you can afford it,” Warren said with a snort.
Before Adam could respond, his brother joined them. “What’s going on?” Jason asked as he walked to the sofa and sat next to Sondra.
“We were talking about Grandma’s funeral. Afterwards, we’ll have a wake here,” Adam explained. “I’ll send someone over to clean the house on Tuesday morning, and I’ll order the food and have it delivered.”
“So organized,” Chloe snarked.
“Why are you acting so bitchy, Mom?” Adam asked.
“Don’t call your mother a bitch,” Warren shouted.
“I didn’t. I just asked her why she was being so bitchy toward me.”
“Same thing,” Warren grumbled.
Chloe glared at her oldest son. “How do you expect me to act toward you, dear son? After all, you practically accused me of murdering your grandmother!”
“When did I do that?” Adam asked.
“When you told them I left the house on Monday night. Why was it any of their business what I did that night, unless you actually believe I killed Marie?” Chloe asked.
“Mom, I couldn’t lie. They asked me what I knew…what happened that morning. I didn’t know it was some secret.”
“It wasn’t a secret,” Chloe snapped. “It just wasn’t necessary to tell the police. The fact is, all of us are now suspects in your grandmother’s murder. Even if none of us inherit a dime, at the time she died, we all thought we were in her will.”
“So you now believe Grandma was really murdered?” Adam asked.
On the sofa Jason and Sondra sat quietly, attentively listening to the conversation. Chloe exchanged glances with her husband and then let out a weary sigh before saying, “Yes. I do. I will admit, when I first heard she was murdered, I didn’t believe it. It all seemed too outrageous. I mean, who would really bother killing an annoying old woman who was probably going to die any day now anyway? Unless, of course, the killer had a financial motive.”
“Like one of us,” Warren muttered.
Chloe looked to her husband and nodded and then turned her attention back to Adam. “Exactly. It seems like everyone at that care home overheard Marie threatening to cut us out of the will. I imagine the police are right now thinking someone in this room murdered Marie, and they’re trying to figure out who, and how to prove it. Since I was the only one who left that night—and lied about it, I’m probably the one they’re focusing their attention on.”
“What about Adam?” Sondra blurted. “He could have gone back over there!”
Chloe glared at her future daughter-in-law, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be stupid. Adam is the very last person who would hurt his grandmother. “
Twenty-Nine
On Sunday morning, Danielle sat at her vanity, looking into its mirror and weaving her dark hair into a fishtail braid, when Marie popped into her room.
“Sorry I didn’t knock, dear, unfortunately I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.” Marie stood by her side. “Walt said you were getting ready to go out for breakfast.”
Still weaving her hair, Danielle’s eyes darted toward Marie. “Morning. Yes, I’m meeting Heather at Pier Café. We usually have guests on Sunday, so it’s kind of a treat to go out for Sunday breakfast.” She turned her attention back to the reflection in the mirror.
“Heather? Perfect! Would you invite Adam, please? And may I go? I won’t eat much.” Marie laughed at her joke about not eating much.
Danielle fastened her braid and turned to Marie. “You’re more than welcome to join us. In fact, I was going to ask if you’d like to come along. But why Adam?”
“There are a few things I need to tell him about my service. I need to make sure he doesn’t forget anything.”
“Ahh…you want me to play translator?”
“Something like that. But I understand you can’t tell him it’s actually coming from me.”
“No, he thinks I’m ditzy enough,” Danielle muttered.
“Death really becomes you,” Heather told Marie, who sat next to Danielle in the booth at Pier Café. “I swear, you look…younger.”
“Not as young as I could be,” Marie whispered, leaning over the table toward Heather. “When I first tried this, I focused on the age I was when I got married. Unfortunately, since mirrors don’t really work for me anymore, it seemed a little silly for me to look like someone no one around me could even recognize.”
“Marie was pretty hot,” Danielle said with a wink to Heather.
“Oh, Danielle!” Marie chuckled.
“So how many years did you shave off with this look?” Heather asked.
“I went for eighty,” Marie told her. “I didn’t shave off eighty years, I went for the age eighty.”
“Yeah, I got that…eighty looks good on you.” Heather picked up her coffee and took a sip.
“Thanks for inviting me for breakfast,” Adam said when he joined them five minutes later. Danielle was relieved when he took the empty seat by Heather, as opposed to sitting on his grandmother.
“Melony couldn’t join us?” Heather asked.
“I called her, but she woke up with a sore throat this morning. Said she was going to take something and go back to bed.”
“I have the perfect oil for that!” Heather said. “A couple of drops in a glass of water, and it will knock it right out.”
Adam smiled at Heather. “Then maybe after breakfast I can pick some up from you and drop it off at Mel’s.”
Heather smiled happily and took another sip of her coffee.
Marie studied her grandson. “Adam looks like he hasn’t been sleeping. Ask him how he’s been sleeping.”
“How are you doing, Adam?” Danielle asked. “You look kind of tired.”
“
I just can’t wrap my head around the idea someone murdered Grandma. I know the chief is looking at my family, but I don’t believe for a moment any of them was responsible.”
“Of course not!” Marie agreed.
Adam looked to Heather. “Chris sent me an email, said he would be back for Grandma’s funeral. I thought that was nice of him.”
“He’s coming back tomorrow,” Heather told them.
“How’s Hunny doing?” Danielle asked. Heather, who was Chris’s employee, was dog sitting his pit bull, Hunny.
“She’s sweet, but still terrified of Bella.” Heather shook her head at the thought. Her calico cat, Bella, was less than half the dog’s size.
“I need to ask Adam some questions about my service,” Marie interrupted. Heather and Danielle glanced to Marie.
“So the funeral is Tuesday?” Danielle asked.
“Ten in the morning,” Adam told her.
“Find out if he’s planning a wake,” Marie urged.
“And afterwards, are you having people come to your house?” Danielle asked.
“I thought it would be best to do it at Grandma’s. But I need to send one of my cleaners over there early Tuesday morning. I’m afraid my family hasn’t done a terrific job keeping up the house since they got here.”
“I was going to suggest that. Smart boy,” Marie said.
Adam went on to tell of his other plans, including the food he intended to order, while Marie occasionally chimed in and Danielle subtly conveyed the information to Adam, sometimes with Heather’s help.
“I guess the chief called Mel, wanted to know what was in Grandma’s new will,” Adam said after the waitress brought their food and left the table.
“Does he think whoever is in the new will might be the killer?” Heather asked.
“That’s what I’d have to assume,” Adam said as he picked up his fork and set his napkin on his lap.
“That’s just ridiculous,” Marie snapped. “Whoever benefits from my new will did not kill me.” She turned to Danielle. “And you have to tell Edward that! He needs to stop wasting his time looking in the wrong places for my killer. He needs to go back to Seaside Village. My killer is there!”
On Monday afternoon, Hunny entered Marlow House first, pushing through the doggy door leading into the kitchen, her butt wiggling and tail wagging. She ran from the kitchen, making her way to the library, where she found Walt sitting at the computer.
Danielle hadn’t locked the kitchen door, so Chris opened it without using his key. He had already figured out Danielle wasn’t home, since her Ford Flex was not parked in the driveway. It didn’t take him long to find Hunny and Walt in the library.
“Breaking and entering now?” Walt asked.
Chris flashed Walt a smile. “It was easy. Doesn’t Danielle ever lock her doors anymore?”
At first glance, Chris Johnson looked more beach bum, with his sandy colored hair, vivid blue eyes, and model good looks, than who he really was, billionaire philanthropist Chris Glandon. While his real surname was Glandon, he had taken his mother’s surname, Johnson, for anonymity’s sake. Most people assumed he simply worked for the Glandon Foundation, not that he was the Glandon Foundation.
“Now that you’re back, I’ll be sure to remind her,” Walt said sternly. He then broke into a smile and asked, “How was your trip?”
Chris pulled a chair over to the desk and sat down next to Walt. “It was alright. But I’m sort of over traveling. I liked it a lot better when I was younger.”
“You’re only a couple of years older than me,” Walt reminded him.
“Yeah, if we only count the years you were alive, gramps.” Chris chuckled and asked, “So where is Danielle?”
“She and Marie went out to help Adam prepare for the wake. He ordered the food, but he forgot about buying paper plates, cups, ice, that sort of thing.”
“So how is Marie adapting to the hereafter? Is she moving on after the funeral? You going with her?” Chris grinned.
Walt ignored Chris’s comment about him moving on. Instead he said, “Don’t tell Danielle, but I don’t think she is.”
“She isn’t moving on?” Chris frowned. “Seriously?”
Walt shook his head. “No. Marie was talking to me last night, and she’s not prepared to move on.”
“Is it because of her murder?”
“That may be part of it, but not entirely.”
“Do you think this means she hasn’t adapted to her death? Normally someone her age has no problem moving on. But murder can throw a monkey wrench into things,” Chris said.
Walt chuckled. “As far as adapting, I’d say she’s enjoying herself—especially the mobility and lack of aches and pains. Although, I suspect if she weren’t able to communicate with Danielle and Heather, I have a feeling she would be going right after the funeral, or when she felt confident she didn’t need to stick around to witness the outcome of her murder investigation.”
“You have a point.” Chris glanced at the computer. “I saw Lily at the service station when I got back into town. She told me you were learning how to use the computer. Is that such a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Chris studied Walt. “I just wonder how wise it is for you to bond with things from this era—not just the people, but the technology, the things that make our time different from yours. Every day you’re becoming more and more part of this time in a way I’ve never witnessed another spirit do. And I have to wonder, is that good for you? Is it good for Danielle?”
“You’d really like me to move on, wouldn’t you?”
“To be honest, I think I would miss you if you moved on. I like you, Walt. This house—even Frederickport—wouldn’t be the same without you. And I will confess, I had—have—feelings for Danielle. We both know that. But I think that window of opportunity to be more than friends has gone by. Even if you suddenly disappeared, I don’t see a future for her and me. The best we’ll ever be is good friends.”
“Are you saying you don’t have a personal motive for wanting me to move on?” Walt asked.
“It’s Danielle’s happiness I wonder about. I don’t know if you realize it, but the two of you have fallen into this comfortable relationship that reminds me of an old married couple. Like two people who are still in love after fifty years, who are happier in each other’s company than with anyone else. But a couple who has moved past the physical side of their relationship, and they’re okay with it, because they’re just happy to be together.”
“Does that sound so bad?”
“Maybe not if Danielle wasn’t still a young woman. A young woman who may still have dreams of a life those physical pleasures can bring her—like children.”
Thirty
On Tuesday morning, the church was full for Marie Nichols’s funeral. Marie had lived her entire ninety-one years in Frederickport. It was where her parents had married, where she had met her husband, and where they had raised their son. It was even where her son had raised his family for almost two decades.
However, many of Marie’s close friends had already passed on; therefore, it might be suggested that one reason for such a large attendance was the curiosity factor. News had spread through town—Marie Nichols had been murdered in her sleep at Seaside Village. It wasn’t a great advertisement for an already struggling care home, yet it did help boost funeral attendance.
Knowing how fond Marie had been of Danielle, Adam had invited her to sit up front with him, Melony and his family, but she declined when she saw how her presence seemed to annoy his parents. She didn’t know why, but they didn’t seem to like her. Of course, they didn’t seem thrilled with Melony either, especially Adam’s mother. Danielle suspected the parents still harbored animosity toward Melony for running away with Adam when they were just teenagers. She wasn’t sure what problem they had with her.
Danielle sat in the pew between Chris and Lily. Heather sat on the other side of Chris, while Ian sat next to Lily. It was difficu
lt for Danielle, Heather and Chris to concentrate on what the minister was saying, because Marie kept buzzing around the church, reminding Danielle of a hyperactive preschooler.
Chris leaned toward Danielle and whispered, “Marie can sure get around now that she’s dead.”
“I wish she would land somewhere. She’s making me dizzy, moving from one place to the next.”
“She’s probably eavesdropping, trying to hear what people are saying about her,” Chris suggested.
“I never think that’s a good idea,” Danielle murmured. “Sometimes it’s best not to hear what others think of us.”
Danielle spied the chief and his two boys. They sat two rows back from Marie’s family. Like Danielle, Chris and Heather, Evan was watching Marie, not the minister. Danielle elbowed Chris and nodded toward the young boy.
Marie made her way through the church, curious to see who had come to say goodbye. She spied several people from the museum, including Ben Smith and his wife. While she had never had much use for the museum group, she had to admit she was touched they had come. She continued on until she found an empty seat. Sitting down, Marie looked to the front of the church and her casket; she assumed her body was inside. The casket was closed, just as she had requested. Marie didn’t think anyone wanted to look at her dead body. She certainly didn’t want to.
She noticed Sunny Hartman sitting several rows ahead of her. Marie wasn’t the only one to notice. The woman sitting to her right—a woman from Marie’s church—whispered to her companion, “Isn’t that Sunny Hartman from Seaside Village?”
The companion craned her neck to get a better look. Marie leaned closer to hear what the women had to say.
“I think so,” the companion said.
“Damage control?” the woman scoffed. “Trying to make Marie’s family think they care?”
“As if that will prevent the family from suing the pants off Seaside Village!”
“As they should!”
The Ghost and Little Marie Page 19