The Ghost of Second Chances

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “Did you know their cousin Macbeth?” Danielle asked.

  Adam frowned. “Macbeth?”

  “He might have gone by Mac.”

  “Wait a minute, you said Macbeth? Didn’t Lily say that was the artist’s real name? The one Marlow hired to reproduce your paintings?”

  Danielle nodded. “His real name is Macbeth Bandoni, and the Bandoni brothers are his cousins.”

  “Holy crap. I remember Mac Bandoni. He’d come and stay with them sometimes.” Adam paused a moment and then added, “He dated Laverne for a while.”

  “Laverne?” Danielle frowned.

  “Chet’s older sister. The one he was living with. But that was years ago. I certainly didn’t recognize him. Old Mac didn’t hold up very well.”

  Fifteen

  When Danielle returned to Marlow House late Thursday afternoon, she found Walt sitting on the back porch, reading a book, while Max napped nearby on a patio lounger. She had stopped at Beach Taco on the way home to grab something for an early dinner. With all that was going on, she didn’t feel like cooking, and Joanne had already gone home.

  “What do you have there?” Walt asked when she got out of her car and started walking toward him.

  Danielle held up the bag briefly as she said, “I stopped and grabbed something for us to eat. Do you like tamales?”

  “Did you buy some oysters too?” Walt asked.

  Danielle frowned. “Oysters?”

  Walt gazed off for a moment recalling a long-ago memory. “When I was a boy and would visit Portland, we’d stop at one of my grandfather’s favorite oyster bars. It served tamales. I always liked the tamales, but to be honest, I didn’t develop a taste for oysters until I was older.”

  Danielle sat down in the empty chair next to Walt and opened the paper sack. “Sounds like an odd combination.”

  Walt shrugged. “Oyster bars with tamales were common.”

  “I guess they really didn’t have regular Mexican restaurants back then.”

  Walt shook his head. “No, not really.”

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I picked up an assortment. They make really good tacos and tamales. I also picked up some taquitos.” Danielle pulled the plastic soufflé cups filled with hot sauce, salsa, and guacamole out of the sack and set them on the table between her and Walt, and she then pulled out the wrapped food. After setting the food on the table, she stood up and folded the now empty paper sack.

  “Let me go inside and grab something for us to drink. Maybe get some plates. Looks like they forgot to give me napkins, so I’ll get some of those too.”

  Several minutes later, Danielle was back outside with Walt as he curiously unwrapped some of the food, inspecting it.

  “I’ve seen you and Lily eat this before. I was always curious to try it.” Holding a partially wrapped taco in his hand, Walt studied it.

  “Surely you’ve had a taco before?”

  Walt shook his head. “No, can’t say I have. I’ve had tamales, but never a taco.” Cautiously, Walt took a bite of the taco. Some of the crispy shell broke off, but he managed to catch it before it fell onto his lap.

  Danielle watched as Walt chewed up his bite of taco. “So how do you like it?”

  Still chewing, Walt nodded. Finally, he said, “It’s good.”

  Glancing down at the table, Danielle spied the plastic soufflé cup of homemade hot sauce. She grabbed it and pulled off its lid. “Here, try it with hot sauce.”

  Walt waved away the sauce and smiled. “No. I think I need to take this one step at a time.” He took a second bite.

  After Walt had finished his taco and started eating his tamale, he asked, “Was Adam of any help?”

  “He ran a report on Clint. It didn’t have much. Nothing we didn’t already know. I think I’ll ask the chief for help.”

  “Did Adam ask why you wanted my credit report run?”

  “I told him because you were staying here indefinitely. Said I thought it might be a good idea to run one.”

  “Indefinitely?” Walt arched his brow. “How did Adam take that?”

  “I didn’t say indefinitely exactly, more like you weren’t a typical B and B guest, and I figure most rental places run reports before they take someone month to month.”

  Walt nodded and started to take another bite of the tamale. Just before he did, he paused and said, “This is much better than the tamales I remember eating when I was a kid.”

  Danielle smiled at Walt and then remembered she hadn’t told him everything she had learned from Adam. Her expression grew serious, and she said, “I also found out Adam knows the Bandoni brothers. And he’s even met Macbeth.”

  “I suppose that doesn’t surprise me, they do live in Astoria, and I know Adam has connections there. But Macbeth, didn’t he meet him here when he was doing the portraits?”

  Danielle nodded. “I don’t think they ever really talked when he was doing the paintings, but he saw him a few times when he was here. Of course, he wasn’t using his real name. Last time Adam saw him was when he was in high school—Adam, not Macbeth. Macbeth is older than Adam.”

  “He didn’t recognize him?”

  “I guess not. He never knew him that well. The main reason he remembered him was because the Bandonis loved to talk about their cool cousin who traveled the world. Adam never knew him as Macbeth—but as Mac. He also dated Chet’s sister that summer.”

  “Chet? You mean that palooka who was trying to get you to rent him a room?”

  Danielle nodded. “I guess he’s staying in Astoria with the Bandoni brothers now.”

  Walt frowned. “That’s interesting.”

  Macbeth Bandoni pulled into the pier parking lot and parked his car. After getting out of the vehicle, he fitted a straw beach hat on his head and pulled it down to obscure his face. Wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, he tossed a beach towel over one shoulder and slammed his car door shut.

  Slipping on a pair of oversized sunglasses, he looked at his reflection in his car window. He smiled and said under his breath, “I look like another tourist.”

  Instead of walking down the pier to the beach, he went in the opposite direction, making his way to the next street after Beach Drive. He then cut back, moving through yards, until he was along the fence to the side yard of Marlow House. Spying an opening along one section of fencing, he slipped into the yard, taking refuge behind several leafy bushes.

  To his surprise he spotted Danielle Boatman sitting outside with his old partner Clint Marlow. They were eating and talking, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Careful not to move and risk rustling the leaves, he waited and watched.

  Finally, Danielle stood up and began gathering up the dishes and paper debris from whatever they had been eating. He watched as she carried the trash and dishes into the house and then held the door open for Clint, who hopped his way into the kitchen.

  Leaving the beach towel in the bushes and removing his sunglasses, Macbeth crept to the back door, passing a sleeping cat on a patio lounger. Crouching down, he sat next to the door leading into the house. He could clearly hear voices coming through the swinging pet door.

  Using the tip of one finger, Macbeth gingerly nudged the pet door outward an inch and managed to peer into the house. Both Danielle and Clint sat at the kitchen table, their backs to the door. Macbeth smiled and eased the pet door closed again. He sat and listened.

  “I imagine Clint’s phone is about charged,” Danielle said.

  “If we can’t figure out what Clint’s password is, do you think whatever phone company he used might be able to help us?” Macbeth heard Clint say.

  Macbeth leaned closer to the door and silently asked, Since when did you start speaking in third person?

  “I don’t think they can help you retrieve whatever information Clint had on the phone,” Danielle said. “But they could probably reset the phone so you can use it. Like a new phone. But that’s just a guess.”

  “I only care about how the information
on Clint’s phone might help me get his life settled. Pay off his outstanding bills. It would be nice if he had enough in his bank account to do that.”

  What is going on? Macbeth wondered.

  “Even if he doesn’t, Walt, it’s no big deal. I’ll simply write a check, and it will be done.”

  “But that’s your money, Danielle.”

  “Stop saying that, Walt. It was your money first.”

  Macbeth pulled away slightly from the house and stared at the pet door. Your money first? What does that mean?

  “I still have to do something. Find my way in this new life I’ve been given.”

  “One day at a time. For now, I suppose you just need to get used to being in Clint’s body. Adjusting to being alive again.”

  Macbeth drew his brow into a frown. What are they talking about?

  “It would have been nice had Clint not broken his leg in the crash.” The man Macbeth knew as Clint said before he chuckled and added, “There is so much I want to do.”

  “I suppose eight weeks in a cast will go by quickly.”

  “As opposed to ninety years as a ghost?”

  “Walt!” Danielle laughed. “Did you just call yourself a ghost?”

  “I don’t seem to mind it as much now that I’m on this side.”

  It went silent, and after a few moments, Macbeth began wondering if one of them had left the room. If so, he imagined it would have been Danielle, since he assumed Clint would make considerable noise using his crutches. Again using one finger, he pulled the pet door outward and peered inside. To his shock, the two were kissing.

  Letting the pet door close again, Macbeth felt his head spinning. What is going on? he asked himself again.

  A loud meow interrupted Macbeth’s thoughts. Jerking his head to face the source of the sound, he found himself staring into the golden eyes of a black cat, who stood just inches from him. He swallowed nervously and then glanced to the pet door. Macbeth recognized the cat from when he had stayed at Marlow House. It was obvious the animal wanted to go through the pet door.

  Moving quickly and trying to be as quiet as possible, Macbeth crawled away from the house and then broke into a sprint, keeping his head down as he dashed into the bushes.

  The cat, who continued to stand by the back door, watched him run away, and then he turned back to the house and moved through the pet door opening, shoving the flapping door inward as he did.

  Danielle and Walt turned abruptly to the pet door when they heard it swinging back and forth. They watched as Max strolled toward them.

  “Hey, Max. I see you finally woke up,” Danielle greeted him.

  Max looked to Walt. Their eyes met. After a moment, Walt said in a low voice, “I want you to lock the door, Danielle.”

  Noting the serious tone in Walt’s voice, Danielle did as he instructed and then turned to him.

  “Now you need to call the chief. Max tells me a man was sitting by the back door right before he came into the house. According to Max, it appeared he was listening to us.”

  Danielle let out a gasp and glanced to the now closed door.

  “Max says he ran off into the bushes. I think you need to call the chief.”

  Sixteen

  Police Chief MacDonald walked into the kitchen carrying a beach towel. He tossed it on the kitchen table where Walt and Danielle sat. “I found this in the bushes near the fence on the south side of the house. Part of the fence is broken there, and it must be where he got in.”

  “The neighbors on that side don’t live here full-time. No one’s there right now,” Danielle told him. Sitting on Danielle’s lap was her cat, Max, who peered over the kitchen table at the chief with curious golden eyes.

  MacDonald took out his notepad and asked, “Did Max describe the guy?” As soon as he spoke the words, the chief closed his eyes, shook his head, and muttered, “I can’t believe I just asked that question.”

  Ignoring MacDonald’s last comment, Walt said, “The intruder looks familiar to Max, but basically we all look the same to him. He said he was wearing some sort of hat—like the kind they wear on the beach.”

  MacDonald groaned, tossed the notepad on the table, and sat down. “I can’t believe I’m trying to get information from a cat.”

  As if he knew he was the subject of the conversation, Max let out a meow.

  “I’m sorry I had to call you, Chief,” Danielle apologized. “But if I had just called the station about a trespasser, and one of your officers came over to take the report, how could I tell them we didn’t actually see the guy, my cat did.”

  MacDonald sighed and flashed Danielle a weak smile. “I understand. This just never gets—normal.” He chuckled and then looked over to Walt and asked, “How are you doing? Getting along okay with that leg?”

  “I’ve discovered I’m fairly good at hopping. But if I didn’t have the cast on, I probably wouldn’t have asked Danielle to call you. I could have handled it myself.”

  “No, you did the right thing.” The chief picked up his notepad from the table. “We need to know when trespassers are peeping in houses. We had a report the other night about some guys poking around on the houses over on Sunset Drive. The only thing that was reported missing was some beer out of Jim Bellow’s extra refrigerator in his garage. It’s not that they can’t afford to buy their own beer—or find someone to buy it for them if they’re underage—but they seem to find lurking around houses and stealing beer more of a game. Won’t be such a fun game when one of the neighbors decides to pull out a gun and shoot someone.”

  In the next moment Lily and Ian came walking into the house from the side yard.

  “Did you find anyone?” Lily asked.

  “The chief seems to think it’s some out-of-control spring break visitors,” Danielle told them.

  The chief stood up. “I don’t recall saying that, exactly. It could also be someone checking out houses to break into. I’ll write up a report. I’ll leave off the part about Max being the witness.”

  Ian laughed. “That might be a good idea.”

  “We’ll have an extra patrol swing by this street tonight,” the chief added.

  “Are you sure you understood what Max was trying to tell you?” Lily asked Walt. “If you guys didn’t actually see anyone yourselves, are you sure anyone was really here?”

  The chief picked up the beach towel off the table and showed Lily. “I found this along the fence, behind the bushes. Plus, that section of the fence had an opening, and it looked like someone had recently gone through it.”

  “Oh…” Lily gulped. “I was rather hoping this was nothing more than a cat’s overactive imagination.”

  “I wouldn’t get too upset, Lily. Burglars out casing houses rarely take along their beach towel. Unless, of course, it’s to wrap up their loot,” Ian said with a grin.

  Lily elbowed Ian. “Stop. Now I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

  “We have Sadie. She’ll let us know if anyone is trying to break in.”

  “And we have Max,” Walt said with a chuckle.

  Lily looked over to Walt and cocked her head slightly. “You know, when I used to live here, I always felt very safe knowing you were around.”

  Walt let out a sigh and glanced down at his broken leg. “But now I’m fairly useless.”

  “Hey, I will take useless alive you over spiritual security guard any day,” Danielle said.

  Walt smiled at Danielle and reached over and patted her hand.

  “This is all so freaking bizarre,” Ian said when he and Lily walked into their house forty minutes later. Sadie eagerly greeted them, tail wagging.

  “I think you have only said that maybe one million times already,” Lily said as she closed the door behind them.

  “Walt sitting at that table in Clint’s body. Walt talking to a cat.”

  “People talk to animals all the time. You talk to Sadie.”

  “Ha-ha,” Ian said dryly. “You know what I mean.”

  “I know.
But you need to stop obsessing about how weird this all is. This is our new normal.”

  Together Ian and Lily walked into the living room, Sadie trailing behind them.

  “I talked to Kelly this afternoon, and she asked me how long I thought Clint would be staying at Marlow House.” As Ian sat down on the sofa, he reached out and grabbed Lily, pulling her on his lap.

  “Your sister is going to freak when she realizes he’s not going anywhere.” Lily made herself comfortable on Ian’s lap.

  “No. Joe is going to freak. And that will freak my sister.”

  Macbeth hid in the bushes as a patrol car moved slowly down Beach Drive. It was past midnight, technically Friday morning, and Macbeth hadn’t yet returned to Astoria. Instead, he had been watching Marlow House. The house had been dark for two hours now, and he was fairly confident everyone inside was asleep.

  He knew there were no guests staying at Marlow House aside from Clint. After witnessing that kiss earlier, he wondered where Danielle Boatman would be sleeping. Macbeth doubted Clint would be able to make it up the stairs in his cast. Yet, considering that kiss, he knew something was going on.

  After watching the windows at Marlow House a little longer, he was certain Danielle had retired to her room upstairs—and Clint had gone to his room downstairs.

  Moonlight streamed through the downstairs bedroom window. A rattling sound jolted Walt awake. He bolted upright in his bed and looked to the bedroom door. It was ajar, and he could hear rattling—it sounded like it was coming from the front door.

  Glancing around, he looked for Max. “A cat is never here when you need him,” Walt grumbled under his breath.

  He heard the distinct squeaking of the front door hinges. Someone had entered the house.

  Walt’s only thought—I need to tell Danielle to lock her bedroom door and call the police. He looked to his nightstand for his cellphone so he could call Danielle. But it wasn’t on the nightstand. Walt then remembered he had left it sitting on the dresser across the room.