The Ghost and Little Marie
Page 24
“And you didn’t see her again?”
SeAnne shook her head. “Sorry.”
Just as the chief stepped away from the rear nurses’ station, he was approached by a janitor.
“Excuse me, Chief,” the man called out.
MacDonald stopped and faced the janitor. “Yes?”
“I’m Jeb Guthrie. I’m one of the janitors here. Someone told me you were asking about Danielle Boatman?”
“You saw her?” the chief asked.
“Is she the one who owns Marlow House? Drives around in that red Flex?” he asked.
“Yes. Did you see her today?”
Jeb smiled. “I thought that was her. I followed the story in the paper when she was arrested for the Gusarov murder. I used to work for the Gusarov family. Well, not the family exactly, but at one of their care homes in Portland. I remember reading how they tried framing her by using another red car.”
“So you did see her this morning?”
Jeb nodded. “Sure. I pulled up about the same time as she did, in the parking lot, when I got to work today. Cute little brunette, early thirties, wears her hair in a fancy braid. She was carrying a white paper sack.”
“Did you see her again?”
“Only when she left. But I didn’t actually see her again, just the back of that red car of hers. I’d forgotten something in my car and came out to get it. When I did, I noticed her pulling out of the parking lot.”
“Do you know what time you saw her leaving?”
Jeb gave him a time. The chief glanced at his cellphone, looking for the call Danielle had made to him that morning. She had called him about twenty minutes before Jeb saw her car leaving Seaside Village.
The chief stood in the front parking lot of Seaside Village, next to his police car. He dialed Lily on his cellphone.
“Tell me you’ve found her,” Lily answered the phone.
“I take it you haven’t heard from her?” the chief asked, glancing over to the front of the care facility.
“I’m getting worried. This isn’t like Danielle to just disappear.”
“I talked to someone who saw her leaving here about twenty minutes after I talked to her on the phone. She was supposed to go to the police station, but Holly hasn’t called me, and I have to assume she didn’t show up there.”
“She still isn’t answering calls,” Lily said. “I keep getting her damn voicemail. I called around to see if anyone has seen her. No one has.”
Thirty-Seven
Brian Henderson felt old. It wasn’t just that the new dispatcher, Holly Parker, was young enough to be his daughter, it was that pink streak in her otherwise raven-colored hair. He just didn’t get it. Carla, the waitress at Pier Café, regularly changed her hair color; he had seen it every pastel shade imaginable. But he thought Carla looked like someone who should have a pink streak in her hair—not Holly.
In spite of the pink hair, he thought the new dispatcher a cute little thing, with her pixy haircut accentuating enormous brown eyes, heart-shaped face, and petite turned-up nose. She might make an adorable Santa’s elf come Christmas, if it wasn’t for the green serpent tattoo winding around her upper right arm. He didn’t get the serpent tatt either.
Brian had just walked in the station when Holly waved him over.
“Could you do me a big favor?” she asked.
Brian wasn’t sure how anyone could turn down a request from someone with her eyes—in spite of the age difference, pink hair, and serpent tattoo.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Would you mind holding down the phone for a minute while I run to the restroom?”
Brian flashed her a smile. “No problem.”
Holly got up from her desk and grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. She started to walk away but paused a moment, turning back to Brian. “Oh, if Danielle Boatman comes in, tell her to wait in the chief’s office.”
“Danielle?”
Holly shrugged. “Yeah, the chief’s been waiting for her all morning.” Flashing Brian a parting smile, she turned her back to him and continued on her way.
Just as Brian sat down at Holly’s desk, the phone began to ring. He answered it.
“Brian, is that you?”
“Hey, Chief,” Brian greeted him. “I’m covering the phone for Holly while she uses the bathroom.”
“Any chance Danielle is there?”
“No. Holly told me if she came in, to have her wait in your office. What’s up?”
“I’m not sure. Danielle was supposed to be on her way to the station over an hour ago. No one’s seen her.”
“Where was she coming from?” Brian asked.
“Seaside Village.”
“I assume you’ve tried calling her?”
“Yes. She’s not answering her phone. I keep getting her voicemail.”
Brian sat up straight in the chair. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“According to Lily, her battery hasn’t been holding a charge, so her phone going straight to voice message is not as ominous as it sounds.”
“With all Boatman’s money, she can’t pick up a new cellphone?” Brian snickered.
“You be sure and ask her that when you see her.”
“I will,” Brian said with a laugh.
After Holly returned to her desk five minutes later, Brian took off to the break room to grab a cup of coffee. He found Joe Morelli there, making a fresh pot.
“Good, I was hoping someone had made coffee,” Brian said as he grabbed his cup and stood by the pot, waiting for it to brew.
“I thought you were going to stop drinking coffee during the day?” Joe asked.
“Shut up and don’t remind me of the stupid things I say,” Brian grumbled.
The phone began to ring.
Still chuckling over Brian’s comment, Joe answered the phone. It was Holly.
“We need to go down to the north beach,” Joe told Brian when he hung up the phone a minute later.
“What’s going on?” Brian filled his cup with coffee.
“Looks like a vehicle went off Pirate’s Bluff. Some fishermen found it. It’s in about twenty feet of water. They can just see the top. The fire department’s there now.”
“Did they see it go off?” Brian took his cup and headed out the door with Joe.
“No. But they said it wasn’t there this morning. Must have happened sometime in the last couple of hours.”
“Damn, did they get the people out of the car?” Brian asked, now hurrying with Joe toward the exit door.
“Doesn’t sound like it. They have the divers out.”
“Any idea who it might be? A local? Tourist?” Brian asked as he opened the door for Joe, letting him exit before following him outside.
“No. All I know it’s some sort of red wagon.”
Brian froze. “Did you say red?”
Joe stopped and looked back at Brian. “Yeah, are you coming?”
“Joe, Seaside Village is about two blocks from Pirate’s Bluff.”
Joe frowned. “So?”
“The chief’s been looking for Danielle all morning. She was supposedly on her way over to the station from Seaside Village. She never arrived, and he can’t get her on the phone.”
“Oh crap!” Joe shouted before racing toward the squad car, Brian close behind him.
“I’m calling the chief. You drive,” Brian ordered as he jumped in the passenger seat of the vehicle.
According to local legend, during the dead of night, pirates once used lanterns to lure unsuspecting ships to the rocks below Pirate’s Bluff. After hitting the jagged shoreline, the broken ships washing up to the nearby shore made easy plunder for the pirates. If the stories were true, Chief MacDonald had no idea.
He stood with Joe and Brian on the nearby beach, the other first responders standing close by. They waited for the diver, who made his way toward them, removing some of his gear while he emerged from the ocean. In one hand he carried a woman’s purse.
&nb
sp; “There’s no one in the car,” the diver told them. “But the driver’s door was open, so whoever was in the car probably got out after it went over the cliff.” He handed the chief the dripping wet purse. “I found this.”
MacDonald recognized the handbag. He had seen Danielle carrying it at breakfast that morning. Yet it didn’t surprise him; he already knew the submerged vehicle belonged to her. He unzipped the wet purse. Inside he found her cellphone. He pulled it out briefly and looked at it before putting it back inside the handbag.
“It’s Danielle’s,” the chief said dryly.
“How can you be sure?” Joe snapped. “You didn’t check the ID.”
“It’s her car, Joe,” Brian reminded him.
Joe grabbed the purse from the chief and opened it. MacDonald didn’t stop him. He watched as Joe fished the wallet from the handbag and opened it. It was Danielle’s.
Combing his fingers through his hair, Brian looked out toward the submerged vehicle. “Where did she go?”
“You know the driver?” the diver asked.
“We know who owns the vehicle. Same person who owns the purse you brought up. She’s a friend of ours,” the chief explained.
“I’m sorry,” the diver muttered.
Joe looked out to the submerged vehicle. “Where is she?”
“Assuming she was in the car when she went over the cliff, her body will probably wash up down the beach. That’s what typically happens. Sorry to be so brutally honest, but that’s normally what I’ve seen in situations like this. If she had made it out of the car alive, I’d expect her to be on the nearby beach,” the diver said.
Stuffing the wallet back in the purse, Joe said, “Maybe she wasn’t in the car when it went off the cliff.”
All four pair of eyes looked up to Pirate’s Bluff.
“Then where in the hell is she?” the chief asked.
By sunset on Thursday evening, most everyone in Frederickport had heard the owner of Marlow House had driven her car off Pirate’s Bluff. Her body had still not yet been found. When Adam heard the grizzly news, he called the chief and asked him if it was true.
“Her car went off the bluff, but we’re still trying to find out what happened to her,” was the chief’s cryptic reply.
Danielle’s housekeeper, Joanne, had arrived back in Frederickport that morning, after visiting her family for Thanksgiving. She had planned to come over Thursday afternoon to get Marlow House ready for the guests who were arriving late Friday. Lily had called Joanne and asked her not to come over, but instead come early Friday to ready the house for the visitors. Lily then promised she would help with the weekend’s guest if Danielle was not yet back.
Joanne thought that was a peculiar thing for Lily to say, since everyone knew Danielle had driven off the cliff into the ocean, and they were still looking for her body. The chances the young woman had survived were slim to none. Yet Joanne didn’t question Lily. She assumed she needed time to grasp the reality of her best friend’s death.
But the fact was, Lily didn’t believe Danielle was dead—and neither did Ian, Chris, Heather, MacDonald, Evan, Marie and Walt. It was all very simple, really. If she were dead, they had no doubt her spirit would have already made its way to Marlow House. And so far, none of them had seen her.
The mediums, along with the believers in the close-knit group, gathered at Marlow House. Walt had closed all the blinds to maintain the appearance of an empty house, since most everyone in the community believed its lone occupant was somewhere in the ocean. They could have met at Ian’s, but then Walt would not have been able to attend.
The chief had dropped his eldest son off at his sister’s. He felt it was important to take Evan with him. If they were wrong and Danielle had been killed, there was always a chance Evan might see her and not immediately understand, and he wanted his son fully prepared for anything. MacDonald’s sister didn’t quite understand where he was going Thursday evening with just one son, yet he hadn’t stuck around her house long enough for her to adequately pump him for information.
“I hate to be the one to bring this up,” Ian began. He sat on the living room sofa with Lily and Chris, with Heather and MacDonald sitting on the chairs facing them. Marie and Walt stood nearby at the fireplace, with Sadie sleeping at Walt’s feet, Evan sitting next to the dog, and Max dozing in the corner. All the blinds were drawn, and the only light came from a half-dozen flickering candles perched in brass holders along the fireplace mantel. All eyes turned to Ian.
“You wonder why we’re so certain Dani is still alive?” Lily told him.
“How did you know I was thinking that?” Ian asked.
Lily shrugged. “An obvious question, I think. Especially from someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“Not just that you always question everything, but you’re kind of new to all this. I know it’s a question I would be asking if I were you,” Lily said.
“I’d just be really surprised if Danielle didn’t come here first,” Chris told Ian. “If she had died.”
“Because it’s her home?” Ian asked.
“No.” Chris looked over to Walt, his expression somber. “Because Walt’s here.”
“Interesting,” Marie muttered, eyeing Walt and Chris curiously.
Walt’s gaze met Chris’s. “She’s alive. If she were dead, I’d know it.”
Heather spoke up. “But we’re forgetting one thing. We all know how new spirits can get confused, not understand what’s happened to them. Just because Danielle can see spirits—that she has more of a grasp on all this than the average person—doesn’t mean that when she dies, especially if that death is from something unexpected and tragic—”
“Like driving off a cliff into the ocean,” the chief reluctantly muttered.
Heather looked to him and nodded. “Yes. If something like that happened, then who’s to say she might not react like any other person? Her spirit could be wandering and confused right now, especially if she detaches from her body at an unfamiliar location?”
Like the bottom of the ocean, Lily thought, but refused to voice.
“I still don’t believe she’s dead,” Chris insisted. “Even if she was confused, she’d still come back here. In fact, this is the first place she’d come to in either case.”
“Then where is she?” Ian asked.
“When she called me this morning, she insisted she knew who might have been responsible for Marie’s murder,” the chief reminded them.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Lily grumbled. “It could mean the killer has Dani now!”
“If she is alive or dead, what does it matter? Shouldn’t someone be looking for her in either case?” Marie asked. “What good are we all doing huddled here in the dark?”
Chris looked to Marie and nodded. “I agree with you.”
“What did she say?” Lily asked.
Chris repeated Marie’s words for those unable to hear them.
“Marie,” the chief said, “could you go back to Seaside Village and look around? See if anyone is talking about Danielle. Maybe someone knows something they weren’t willing to tell me. And if she wasn’t in her car when it went over the cliff, maybe someone there knows where she is.”
“You want me to spy!” Marie grinned.
MacDonald stood and looked at his son, who sat on the floor by Sadie. “I can take Evan down by the pier and walk along the beach.”
“I’ll search the area around where the car went off the bluff. I know the chief’s men have already searched the area, but let me look again. And well…if she did…you know…I’ll see her,” Chris said.
“I’ll go with you.” Heather stood up.
“Where do you want Ian and me to go?” Lily asked.
“You should stay here in case Danielle comes home,” MacDonald suggested.
“If she does come back to the house, I hope I can see her and don’t have to read Walt’s note to know she’s here,” Lily grumbled.
 
; Thirty-Eight
Whatever had been in the syringe had worn off, and Danielle was now painfully awake. Still crammed into a laundry bin, her wrists and hands numb, she figured if her attacker didn’t get around to killing her, the blood clots she was bound to suffer due to the unnatural contortion of her body would surely finish her off.
She hadn’t been conscious when the needle had been shoved into her arm. The only reason she knew about it was from Mabel and Doris’s insistent chattering. The two spirits just wouldn’t shut up.
If it were possible for them to remove the duct tape plastered over her mouth, she could send them to find help. Unfortunately, they were using all their energy talking to each other and getting worked up whenever her abductor walked into the dark storage room.
One of the last things she remembered was standing in an empty patient room, talking to the chief on her cellphone. Yet now she realized it hadn’t been empty at all. Someone was in the adjacent bathroom, and it was the last person she wanted to overhear her conversation with the chief.
She had just gotten off the phone when she had heard footsteps behind her, and then felt excruciating pain before her world went black. The next thing she remembered was waking up on a pile of soiled linens, a scent of urine permeating the confined space around her. Her tenacity kept her from vomiting. If a blood clot didn’t kill her, throwing up while having her mouth taped shut and then choking to death would certainly finish her off.
“Someone’s coming,” Mabel shrieked. “Hide!”
“Haven’t I told you, we don’t need to hide?” Doris said impatiently.
Danielle heard the sound of a key turning a lock and then the squeak of hinge as the door to the storage room opened, letting in a stream of light, momentarily breaking up the darkness. The person unlocking the door quickly stepped into the small space, closing the door behind her and relocking it. Once again the room was plunged into semidarkness. Yet it didn’t last for long. In the next moment the person flipped on the overhead light and then stepped to the laundry bin, looking down at Danielle.