“That’s not what bothers me,” Lily explained. “It’s the artwork. It’s not me. Not something I would have ever chosen. It was forced on me by that idiot.”
“Are you still thinking of having it removed?”
“You know what they told me. Because of the colors, they won’t be able to remove it completely. And they’re afraid the original tattoo will leave scars simply because of how it was initially done.”
“And it’s painful,” Danielle added with a sigh.
“Yeah.” Lily looked back down at her unwanted tattoo. “More painful than actually getting one, which is why I’m seriously thinking of having it covered up.”
“Really?”
“Think about it Dani, if I get it removed my arm will never look like it did before. If I decide to wear a sleeveless dress, my arm will look weird…scarred. People might ask questions, questions I won’t want to keep answering.”
“Yeah, makes it hard to move past all this.”
“We have friends with full sleeves, and guys think they look hot in sleeveless dresses. Well, maybe not all guys. But you know what I mean.”
“Are you going to cover this one completely?”
“Yes and no. I’m thinking more along the lines of adding to it, changing the picture. In some ways, it’s a connection to Isabella, and while I never met her, I feel a connection to her because of all that happened. She chose this tattoo for herself. I just want to transform it to fit me.”
“Have you talked to Ian about it?”
“Yeah. He said whatever I do, he’ll support me. If I could work with a tattoo artist, to create something out of this that reflects me—my journey. Well, maybe that will be a victory of sorts. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Danielle considered Lily’s words for a moment. Finally, she smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
“And one plus,” Lily added with a giggle. “Last year, had I gotten the tat I would have gotten such crap from my folks, especially Mom. She hates tattoos.”
Danielle laughed. “And this way, your mom would be supportive?”
“Yep.” Lily grinned. “Knowing mom, she will tell me how beautiful the new tattoo is, just to make me feel better.”
Danielle laughed and then asked, “By the way, where’s Ian?”
“He went to pick up the stuff for the party. He’s so funny. Insisted on doing all the food. I’m glad we’re having it here and not going out like we originally planned. It would be hard to visit at a restaurant.”
“So what have you decided…on the other thing. What are you going to tell your mom?”
For the last few weeks, Lily’s mother had been calling her, asking her to come home when she finished the six weeks of IV treatments. Lily glanced out the window. “I don’t want to go back there.”
“Ian’s not there.” Danielle smiled.
“That’s part of it… and I like it here. I thought maybe…” Lily looked back to Danielle. “…maybe now that I’m back with the living, I could see what it would take to get an Oregon teacher’s credential. Look into the schools here…not for this year, of course, but see about next fall. Maybe I could sub for now.”
“You hate subbing. How many times have you told me that?” Danielle reminded.
“I know. To be honest, if a local school called me tomorrow and offered me my own class… I’m not up to it yet. I just hope I will be up to it next fall.”
“You know you are more than welcome to keep staying here. I love having you.”
“But I want to start paying rent,” Lily insisted.
“That really isn’t necessary,” Danielle said.
“Come on Dani, if the tables were turned, wouldn’t you feel funny about staying with me rent free?”
Danielle let out a sigh, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But instead of rent, maybe we can just work out something where you help me run Marlow House, heck, you do a lot around here already. Let me hire you. The job comes with room, board, and a salary.”
Lily laughed at her offer. “You crack me up Dani! Your solution to end my freeloading days is to put me on salaries?”
“Don’t think that just because you happen to be my best friend, I’ll let you be a slacker. I can be a demanding boss!”
Lily considered Danielle’s offer for a moment. “Okay, but I don’t want a salary. Let me do more around here in exchange for the room.”
“You’re still going to need some spending money.”
“Maybe not.” Lily smiled. “I was going to tell you tonight, at our No-More-Damn-IV Celebration Dinner. My attorney called. It looks like there will be a settlement before the end of the year. Maybe sooner.”
“Oh! I’m so happy for you, Lily!” Danielle gave Lily a quick hug and then pulled away. “Are you okay with the settlement amount?”
“Well…considering it is in the millions, uhh yeah…” Lily smiled.
“Wow. That’s a turn around.”
“I suspect part of it had to do with pressure Will Wayne put on the trust,” Lily told her.
“And to think I once wondered if Will was in some way involved in Stoddard’s murder.”
“Hey, I just realized—you don’t have the kitten.” Lily glanced around, as if she expected the kitten to suddenly appear.
“Walt was right, the kitten—whose name is Bella, by the way, something else Walt told me—belongs to our new neighbor.” Danielle glanced around. “I wonder where Walt is.”
Lily glanced up to the ceiling. “The last time I checked he was in the attic rolling the ball around for Sadie. At least I assume that’s why the ball was flying around the attic on its own. So tell me about the new neighbor.”
“She seems nice enough. A little off beat. I assume she’s not married because she’s living alone. I don’t know if she’s renting or buying. Claims to be a writer. Not that she has ever written anything before. Actually, she made it perfectly clear she hadn’t. But she intends to.”
Lily laughed and said, “According to Ian, when someone asks him what he does for a living, and he says writer, they often respond with something like, I plan to write a book someday, or if I had time I would write a book, or my favorite, I have a story you should write.”
“Is it your favorite because that’s what you said to Ian?”
Lily frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you forget, you are the one who convinced Ian to do a story on Emma Jackson. Ian, I have a story you should write!” Danielle laughed.
“Well… I suppose you are right, but I didn’t say it quite like that. And you have to admit, Emma does have a fascinating story.”
“I know, I’m just teasing you.”
“So did this new neighbor mention what she intends to write about?” Lily asked.
“That’s what I found peculiar: haunted houses.”
“Any specific haunted house?” Walt asked when he appeared the next moment.
Danielle looked at Walt. “She didn’t say.”
Lily frowned at Danielle and then smiled. “Ahh, Walt must be here now. Hi Walt.”
The next moment, Sadie came bounding into the room, her tail wagging.
Danielle leaned down and pet Sadie, who was now sitting by her side. “Walt wondered if she intended to write about any specific haunted house.”
“I wondered the same thing,” Lily said.
“She didn’t say. But if she intends to write about a local haunted house, the only one I can think of is Presley House. At least that’s the only house in Frederickport that has a reputation of being haunted.”
Chapter Eight
“So, what am I supposed to be looking at?” Chief MacDonald asked. Brian Henderson had just plunked an old lamp on his office desk. Brian and Joe Morelli stood over him, looking down at the lamp as if the two officers expected it to jump up and start dancing around.
“We brought this back from Presley House,” Brian explained.
The chief looked up at Brian. “Didn’t you go over there this morni
ng?”
Brian nodded. “Yes, but we went back again.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you go back? What’s with the lamp?”
“You aren’t going to believe this, Chief,” Joe said.
“I know I don’t believe it and I saw it!” Brian added.
“Maybe it would help if you two would start at the beginning.” MacDonald pointed to the two empty chairs facing his desk. “Sit down. I don’t need you two hovering over me.”
Joe and Brian each sat down. After taking a deep breath, Joe started to explain. Periodically Brian would interject a comment. When they were done, the chief just sat there a moment, quietly looking from the lamp to his two officers.
“It isn’t lit now,” MacDonald finally said.
“Like I told you, the bulb went out the minute we stepped outside Presley House. Never went back on again.”
MacDonald let out a sigh and leaned forward. He inspected the lamp and removed the bulb, giving it a gentle shake. “This bulb is out.”
“I know.” Brian nodded. “I took it out, just like you did and put it back in. And then it went on.”
“And you’re saying after you shook it, heard it rattling around, it turned on?” MacDonald asked incredulously. “Without any electricity?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but that’s exactly what happened,” Joe insisted. “We both saw it.”
“I know a little about electricity—enough to know it takes electricity to run a lamp like this.” The chief leaned back in his chair and studied his men.
“I think we need to have this lamp checked out,” Brian said.
“Checked out?” the chief asked.
“It has to be rigged somehow. Someone’s screwing with us,” Brian insisted.
“Or maybe…Presley House really is haunted.” MacDonald smiled.
“That isn’t funny,” Joe snapped.
MacDonald laughed. “Well, maybe not, but you start telling people you saw this old lamp light up—without being plugged in—you’re going to make a lot of people laugh. I’m sure they’ll think it’s hilarious.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Brian asked.
The chief didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he silently studied the lamp. Finally, he said, “I tell you what…I know someone. I’ll have him discreetly look at the lamp. Let’s figure out first if there is something different about it. Who knows, maybe it was used in a magic act or something. But even then, we don’t want this to get out. I’m afraid everyone will find it far too amusing to learn a trick lamp freaked out a couple of our officers. And if it isn’t some sort of a trick lamp, well, that’s an entirely different issue. Considering all that has gone on in the department over the last four months, we really don’t need any more bad press, especially with Christiansen and Haston on the loose.”
“Any word on them?” Joe asked.
“Aside from finding Haston’s car parked at the Frederickport Beach parking lot this afternoon, no,” the chief said.
“Are you saying you found his car here, in town? Why is this the first we’ve heard about it?” Brian asked.
“Probably because you two have been out stealing lamps from abandoned houses.”
“Does this mean you think they’re hiding out in Frederickport?” Joe asked.
“According to the guy who reported seeing the car, it’s been sitting there since Wednesday. Never moved. My guess, he and Christiansen are long gone.”
“Wednesday, when he should have been at court in Astoria. Haston doesn’t live here, so why did he come to Frederickport, and where did he go?” Brian asked.
“I would love to know the answers to those questions too. But since Christiansen is also missing, and he does live in Frederickport, I have to assume they met up here and took off. Although, I still find it hard to believe they took off together, considering Haston rolled over on Christiansen,” MacDonald said.
“I take it Christiansen’s car is still missing?” Brian asked.
“Yes, which is why the general consensus is that the two took off together and are already in Canada.”
“You don’t sound like you believe that, Chief,” Joe said.
“I don’t think they stuck around here, but take off together? That doesn’t feel right. But since Haston’s car is still here, Christiansen and his car are missing, and there haven’t been any reports of a stolen vehicle, I have to assume they took off together.”
“Or Haston is still in town. Hiding out somewhere,” Joe suggested.
“Yeah, I thought about that. I had some of the guys check out Stoddard’s rental properties in Frederickport, see if he’s laying low in one of them. I even had them check out Stoddard’s estate, but nothing. Of course, there are plenty of other vacant houses in town. But why? Why stick around?”
“Was there anything wrong with Haston’s car? Maybe it broke down,” Joe suggested. “Maybe he wanted to talk to Christiansen before they showed up at the court, so he stopped at Frederickport first, but then his car broke down.”
“No, it was in perfect working order, with half a tank of gas. I can only see one reason for him coming to Frederickport—to see Christiansen. Which would mean, Haston knew Christiansen never intended to show up at court but was waiting for Haston. That means I’m running in circles and maybe those two worked out their differences and decided to team up and head to Canada together.”
“We shouldn’t stay here. Someone is going to find us!” Bart Haston said for the tenth time. Agitated, he paced the living room floor of the Gusarov Estate.
Chuck Christiansen looked up from his seat on the couch and stared at Bart. He is like a bad penny; he keeps coming back. “I told you, they already checked this place. We’re safe here. And if you want to go, there’s the door!”
“I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t make me leave!”
“I don’t care if you stay, just shut up! You’ve been blabbering non-stop since—hell, I don’t know for how long. I just don’t want to listen to it anymore!”
Bart took a seat across from the couch. “I’m just afraid.” He looked down at his hands; they fidgeted nervously on his lap. “I never wanted to go to prison.”
“Then I guess you should have thought about that before you opened your mouth!” Chuck snapped.
“I just thought…”
Chuck glared at Bart. “You thought what?”
“That if I came clean, told the truth, things would work out.”
“Work out for who? You? Did you think throwing me under the bus was going to buy you the magic get-out-of-jail card?”
“I don’t know…” Bart shook his head, confused. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I never even had so much as a parking ticket.”
“Apparently the courts don’t take into account your driving record when charged with murder.”
Bart looked around the room nervously. “Do you think he’s here?”
“Do I think who’s here?” Chuck frowned.
“Stoddard. This is where Darlene did it. He died…just over there.” Bart pointed toward the entry.
“Well, do you see him?” Chuck snapped.
“You know what I mean. His spirit. They say when someone is murdered, their spirit lingers. Do you think this place could be haunted?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
They were quiet for a few minutes. Finally, Bart asked, “So what do we do now?”
Chuck stood up. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going upstairs. I’d appreciate it if you don’t come with me. I want to be alone.”
“We’re just going to stay here, indefinitely?” Bart asked with a frown.
“Like I told you, there’s the door.” Chuck pointed to the entry. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go. I didn’t expect to have problems with the car. I should be in Canada now. Obviously, things don’t always work out like we plan. I mean, look, here I am with you.”
“I wish you’d stop being mad at me. It
doesn’t make it very pleasant, since we are sort of stuck here together.”
“And whose fault is that?” Chuck asked.
Bart looked up at Chuck. “That’s one thing you can’t blame me for.”
Chuck silently stared at Bart for a few moments, studying him. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose you’re right. That’s one thing I can’t blame on you. That one’s totally my own fault.”
Without saying another word, Chuck walked from the room and made his way up the stairs.
Bart slumped back in the chair and glanced around the room. Sunlight flooded in from the overhead windows. It would be dark in a couple hours. He looked over to where he believed Stoddard had died. He sat up straight in the chair and stared at the spot, concentrating.
“Stoddard? Are you here?”
There was no answer.
“If your spirit is here…I’m sorry for my part in your murder. But you need to understand. I didn’t want to go to prison. I was afraid you were going to tell them how we helped you cover up Isabella’s death—how I knew that was Lily Miller upstairs instead of Isabella. You shouldn't have asked us to do that. It was wrong. We were wrong.”
There was still no answer.
Bart slumped back in the chair again and closed his eyes. Then he saw it: the body on the floor of Presley House. His eyes flew open.
Bart stood in the basement of Presley House, looking into the open trunk. Instinctively he knew this is where he would find it—the body he had abandoned, left for someone else to take care of.
The basement door was already open when he arrived. Light filtered in from upstairs, lending some visibility to the dark space. The sun would be setting soon. When that happened, it would be impossible to see in the basement.
“I told you not to come back!” Harvey shouted from the doorway, startling Bart, who was lost in his own private thoughts.
“Are you just going to leave him here?” Bart asked.
“What do you care? I told you I would take care of it, and I did. Now leave. I don’t want you here!”
“This isn’t right. People need to know…there is family to consider…his mother will wonder what happened…”
Ghost of Halloween Past Page 5