“Maybe she does have a thing for him,” Laverne suggested.
“Here is the problem—and I want you to promise not to tell anyone I told you any of this—no one. And considering the secrets I’ve kept for you, you can keep this one for me.”
“Go on,” Laverne choked out.
“I overheard all this at my cousins’ the other night. And frankly, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother saying anything. But you and I—well—we do have a history, and I know how much your brother means to you. But I really don’t want my cousins to find out I was repeating conversations I heard at their house.”
“What kind of conversation?” Laverne asked.
“Apparently, Boatman is showing interest in the guest currently staying at Marlow House. Your brother is jealous. I’m afraid he might do something stupid.”
“Something stupid, how?”
“Shoot him, maybe. Run him over in his car. I don’t know. I just know he was talking about getting rid of him.”
Laverne laughed. “I love my brother, but he’s all talk. Oh, he’s done stupid things in his past to get himself arrested, but go after some guy over a woman? No way.”
Twenty
It was late Friday afternoon, and Walt sat in the library, the sleeve to his left shirt rolled up while he examined his left wrist. He and Danielle were once again alone in Marlow House save for Max, who napped next to Walt on the sofa.
Before leaving Marlow House earlier, the chief had agreed to have Clint’s belongings tentatively delivered on Monday morning. However, before making it official, he wanted to make sure Walt or Danielle had been able to contact Eva or Marie. He didn’t want Macbeth picking up the portraits without being assured at least one of the spirits would be able to keep an eye on the man in order to determine his reaction after discovering the paintings were not the original Bonnets.
“What are you looking at?” Danielle asked when she entered the library and found Walt staring at his left wrist while he ran the tip of his right index finger over it.
Walt glanced up at Danielle. “I want you to see this.”
Danielle walked to the sofa, scooped up the sleeping cat, and sat down next to Walt. Just as she set the cat on her lap, Max, who was now awake and annoyed, jumped down and strolled from the room.
Giving Max a shrug, Danielle turned her attention to Walt, who extended his left wrist for her to examine. “You see this scar?”
Taking hold of Walt’s wrist, she pulled it gently to her and looked closely. “I wonder how Clint got it. Looks like a horseshoe.”
“Clint didn’t get it,” Walt said as he took back his wrist and started buttoning up his sleeve.
“What do you mean?” Danielle frowned.
“When I first woke up in Clint’s body, it wasn’t there.”
“I’m sure it was. You just didn’t notice.”
“Danielle, look at my forehead.” Walt leaned toward Danielle.
She examined his forehead and frowned. “What am I looking at?”
“The stitches. Remember, Clint didn’t just break his leg, he had stitches in his forehead.”
“Oh! That’s right!” Danielle leaned closer. “Wow, I can’t even see where it was stitched. It didn’t scar at all.”
Walt leaned back and looked Danielle in the eyes. “The accident happened a little over a week ago. Don’t you think it’s rather odd it’s healed so quickly?”
Danielle shrugged. “I suppose. But aren’t you happy about it?”
“When I was a child, I cut my left wrist and had stitches. It was a horseshoe scar. I had it until the day I died.”
“I guess Clint’s body heals quicker.”
Again unbuttoning his left wrist, he once again showed the horseshoe scar to Danielle. “After I woke up in Clint’s body, I…well…I inspected it.”
Danielle chuckled. “Yeah, I can see doing that. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to wake up in another person’s body.”
“I remember looking at his left wrist and thinking I finally got rid of that scar.”
“Are you saying the scar wasn’t there when you first came to?”
“Exactly.”
“When did you first notice it?”
“The day you picked me up from the hospital, but it was just a faint scar. At first, I thought I was imagining things. But it seemed as the horseshoe scar became more prominent, the one on my forehead faded. In fact, when they removed the stitches, the nurse remarked on how quickly it had healed. She actually seemed surprised.”
“What does this mean?” Danielle asked.
“It means he’s settling into his body and making it his,” Eva answered when she appeared the next moment in a hail of glitter. Unfortunately for Marie, when she arrived in the library several seconds later, it was in the midst of a glitter cloud. While some might argue that Eva’s glitter was nothing more than an illusion, one would not know by the way Marie sputtered, her nose scrunched up, as she furiously waved her right hand in front of her face, trying to brush away Eva’s sparkly trademark.
“Please, Eva. Can’t you be more careful with that stuff?” Marie spit several times, as if some of it had gotten into her mouth, while her gray hair sparkled with glitter.
“Sorry, Marie,” Eva said with a laugh. The next moment the glitter—even what had fallen in Marie’s hair—vanished.
“What do you mean, making it his?” Danielle asked Eva.
“It’s just an assumption on my part,” Eva explained. “But I suspect our spirit selves have more control over our bodies than we understand. Walt’s spirit is settling into his new body, making it his, mimicking his last one.”
“I don’t recall that happening with Kent’s body,” Danielle said.
“That was different. Kent never relinquished his body as Clint did. It makes all the difference in the world,” Eva told her.
“What about my broken leg?” Walt asked.
“What do you mean?” Eva asked.
“Is it possible the leg is no longer broken?” Walt asked. “That it’s healed already, like my forehead?”
Eva shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Marie laughed. “If it really has, I doubt you’ll be able to convince your doctor to remove your cast early. And if you could talk him into doing something like an X-ray to check on the leg, can you imagine what a hullabaloo that might cause if it had healed already?”
Walt absently gave his injured leg a pat. “No. I don’t need that kind of attention. And, just because the forehead healed, I can’t believe the leg has.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Eva took a seat on a chair facing Walt and Danielle.
“Eva and I stopped by to see how you were doing,” Marie explained when she took the chair next to Eva. “But if what Eva says is true, then I suppose you’re settling in nicely.”
“I’m really glad you both stopped in. I have a favor to ask you,” Walt began.
Eva arched her brows. “Favor?”
Walt then went on to tell them about Macbeth’s visit and what they needed them to do for him.
“Sounds rather exciting,” Marie said.
Danielle smiled at Marie. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. I know you became a little weary standing guard over the paintings when Clint and Macbeth were staying here.”
Marie shrugged. “That was different, stuck in one place for hours on end. This time Eva and I will be able to venture into the thieves’ den, so to speak.”
“When will Macbeth be picking up the paintings?” Eva asked.
“We haven’t arranged that with him yet.”
“I need to call the chief and let him know Monday will work. And then we have to wait for Macbeth to contact Walt and arrange a pickup.”
“It would probably be best if Marie and I show up first thing Monday morning before the paintings arrive. Just in case your Macbeth decides to come early.”
Walt nodded. “It would also be a good idea if you check in every day. I’d hate for M
acbeth to arrange for a pickup without us being able to get that information to one of you.”
Danielle stood up. “I’m going to go call the chief and tell him to go ahead and have the paintings delivered.”
After Danielle left the room to get her cellphone, Eva said, “You know, I still can’t get over this scoundrel’s name. Didn’t you say his mother was an actress?”
Walt looked to Eva. “That’s what Ian told us. But he goes by Mac.”
“But still, for an actress to name her only child Macbeth? Was she trying to keep him from pursuing a life in the theater?”
“What do you mean?” Marie asked.
“Being on this side, I’ve put aside some of my previous superstitions,” Eva explained.
“I remember now,” Walt said. “Odd, I didn’t even think about that.”
With a frown, Marie looked from Eva to Walt. “Think about what?”
“Shakespeare’s play Macbeth is said to be cursed, so actors avoid uttering the play’s name in the theater.”
“You mean they never say Macbeth?” Marie asked.
“Instead, they refer to it as the Scottish Play,” Eva explained. “I know now it’s all very silly, but I confess I once avoided the word. So for an actress to name her child something that her fellow actors would be reluctant to say makes me wonder, why?”
“Perhaps the father named him,” Walt suggested. “After all, Macbeth followed his father’s line of work and became an artist. Maybe that’s what the father wanted.”
“Considering the little performance he gave, pawning himself off as Jim Hill, I suspect the man has some actor in him,” Marie said.
Marie and Eva had left Marlow House, promising to check in on Saturday. Once again, Walt and Danielle were alone in the library. The landline sitting on the computer desk began to ring.
“I wonder if that’s someone calling for a reservation,” Danielle said when she stood up to answer the phone.
“When you called the chief, why didn’t you just use the library phone?” Walt asked. “Instead of going to the kitchen to find your cellphone.”
Poised to pick up the landline, Danielle turned to Walt and smiled. “I have the chief’s number saved in my cellphone.”
“Is it that hard to dial a number?” Walt asked.
“It is if you haven’t memorized it.” Danielle picked up the phone. “Hello, Marlow House. How can I help you?”
“Is this Danielle Boatman?” a familiar voice asked.
“Yes, it is. Who is this?”
“Hello, Danielle. This is Jim Hill.”
Danielle looked to Walt and mouthed, It’s Macbeth.
“Umm…hello, Jim. How are you doing?” Danielle asked. Holding the phone’s receiver to her ear, she looked at Walt, who stared at her, listening in on her phone conversation.
“I’m fine. I heard Clint was released from the hospital and is staying with you. I just wanted to see how he’s doing.”
“He’s doing fine. But he still has amnesia.”
“Yes, I heard that. I was hoping I could talk to him.”
Danielle swallowed nervously. “He won’t know you.”
“I understand that. But I assume you’ve told him about me?”
“Umm…yeah…” Nervously biting her lower lip, she looked at Walt and shrugged.
“I just wanted to tell him how sorry I am about Stephanie. And maybe hearing a familiar voice will help him regain his memory.”
“Sure…umm…in fact, he’s right here. Let me give him the phone.”
Danielle picked up the phone and carried it to the sofa, stretching its cord as far as it would go. She handed the phone to Walt and said in a loud voice, “It’s your friend Jim Hill. I told you about him. He’s the artist.”
Walt nodded at her and accepted the phone.
“Hello?”
“I assume Danielle is standing right there?” Jim said.
Walt looked up to Danielle. “Yes.” She stood quietly and listened.
“Did you do what I told you to do? Are you having the paintings delivered?” Jim asked.
Instead of answering the question, Walt said, “Danielle told me about you and how you copied her paintings. She said you’re a talented artist. But I’ll be honest, I have no use for the portraits, and I wondered if perhaps you would like them, since you painted them.”
Macbeth laughed. “Good man, Clint. Pleased you’re seeing things my way. When can I pick them up?”
“I already spoke to the police department and asked if they could deliver my personal belongings here. Apparently, they have everything in storage. They’re delivering my things, including the portraits, on Monday morning. Would you like to pick up the portraits Monday afternoon?”
“Perfect. I’ll call again Monday afternoon and arrange an exact time. I’m glad we had this conversation, especially with Danielle standing there listening. She is still standing there, isn’t she?”
Walt looked at Danielle. “Yes. She is.”
“Then make sure she knows you’ve given me the portraits. I don’t want any misunderstandings.”
When Walt got off the phone, Danielle said, “You handled that brilliantly.”
Walt shrugged. “I learned from the best.”
Danielle frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You.” Walt laughed.
Danielle flashed Walt a smirk-like smile as she carried the phone back to the desk. After she set the phone back down, she turned to Walt and said, “I suppose this means we’ll be able to enjoy our weekend. We won’t have to worry about Macbeth and his crew until Monday.”
Twenty-One
Saturday arrived with a clear blue sky and temperatures in the low forties. The brief warm spell had ended, yet Danielle was grateful the cold didn’t include rain. She asked Walt if he wanted to get away from Marlow House for the day, perhaps take a drive or try one of the local restaurants. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take her up on her offer. Fact was, he would love to get out and see the world again. However, he was just simply too tired. It seemed that every few hours all he wanted to do was take a nap.
“Your body is healing,” Danielle told him.
When Eva and Marie stopped in Saturday morning to see if there was an update on the portraits’ arrival, Eva agreed with Danielle’s rationale on why Walt was so tired. The spirits visited a while and then left again, promising to return early Monday morning.
Danielle and Walt had other visitors on Saturday. The chief was heading out of town that evening to take his boys to Portland to attend a birthday party for their maternal grandmother. But first, the chief found time to stop by Marlow House with Evan, who was excited to see Walt in the flesh. Right after they left, Ian and Lily came over for about an hour, bringing Sadie with them. Heather dropped in twice, once bringing some cinnamon rolls she had picked up at Old Salts Bakery and once to drop off a mixture of essential oils she said would help Walt relax. Danielle wasn’t sure why Walt needed anything to help him relax, considering he kept dozing off every few hours, but she didn’t mention that to Heather.
The last visitor they had was Chris, who played a game of chess with Walt. They might have finished had Max not jumped on the board, scattering the pieces. Walt swore he had nothing to do with the cat’s leap, but Chris didn’t quite believe him.
“Fess up, did you get Max to jump up on the chessboard?” Danielle asked when she and Walt were alone again. The cat in question had retreated upstairs to the attic and was currently napping on the sofa bed up there. Outside the sun had already set.
Walt yawned. He sat with Danielle at the kitchen table. “I’ll confess; I just can’t focus. I get so tired.”
“Does that mean you did or didn’t get Max to break up your game?” Danielle asked as she ripped apart one of the cinnamon rolls Heather had brought. Before she could taste the pastry, Walt reached across the table and snatched it. “Hey!”
Taking a bite of the roll, Walt moaned. “I’d apologize, but these really are
amazing.”
Danielle chuckled and began nibbling the remaining half. “You still didn’t answer my question.”
Outside, a dark figure moved by the window, yet neither person in the kitchen noticed. When they eventually left the room, they forgot to lock the back door. Later, when Danielle remembered the door and returned to lock it, the person who had been lurking on her back patio had already slipped into the house and down the hallway and was now hiding in the hall closet.
“Bella!” Heather called for her calico cat. The feline was nowhere to be found. Heather checked all the rooms in her house before deciding the cat must have slipped outside when she had returned from Marlow House.
Grabbing her cellphone from the kitchen counter, intending to use it as a flashlight if needed, she slipped the phone in her jacket pocket and headed outside. Once in her front yard, she discovered there was sufficient moonlight, and there would be no need for a flashlight. However, had she needed the phone, she would not have found it in her pocket. It had already slipped through a tear in the pocket lining.
Heather spied her cat under a bush by the front sidewalk.
“Bella!” Heather scolded as she scooped the wandering feline into her arms. “Naughty kitty!”
What sounded like a gunshot from the street jolted Heather. Still holding Bella, she looked up and spied a car slowly driving down the street. It was then she realized it had been a car backfire, not a gunshot.
Stepping up to the sidewalk, she glanced down the street. She stood in the shadows and watched as the car stopped a moment in front of Marlow House and then made a U-turn and drove back up the street, passing her house again. Because of where she stood, it was impossible for her to tell if anyone had gotten out of the car when it had stopped by Marlow House.
Bella let out a loud meow and began to squirm. Reminded of the cat in her arms, Heather quickly forgot about the car and returned to her house.
Hiding in the downstairs closet behind several jackets and raincoats, the intruder stood frozen. Glancing down, the person focused on the light streaming in from under the door. There were voices, but it was impossible to hear what was being said. Finally, it grew dark. Someone had turned off the hall light.
The Ghost of Second Chances Page 13