“Remember Lily and Chris?” Danielle asked.
The chief glanced briefly to Danielle. “You telling me Clint’s spirit is wandering around somewhere?”
“I’m hoping it’s not wandering around. I’m hoping it’s in his hospital room.”
“I’m curious, why do you want to know?” he asked.
“Because I’ve learned from Lily and Chris that when a traumatic accident happens, the spirit—or soul—whatever you want to call it—doesn’t necessarily understand what’s happening, which accounts for people who are in comas for a long time. Clint may not be my favorite person, but I don’t want to think of him being detached from his body while it lingers in some rest home somewhere.”
“You think he’s in the hospital room with his body?”
“To be honest—not really. That was the issue with Lily and Chris; they got separated from their bodies, which was part of the problem. But before I go looking for him, I figured since we’re at the hospital anyway, I should at least see if he’s still with his body. I’d feel pretty foolish if I run around town looking for him and then discover he’s simply lingering in the hospital room, trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“Since you can’t get in to see him for another two hours, you want to stop by the scene of the accident?”
Pushing through the exit doors, Danielle let out a sigh and said, “I suppose that would be the most logical place to start.”
The man in the hospital bed appeared to be sleeping. The bruise along the right side of his face added color to the unnatural paleness of his current complexion. Running down the right side of his forehead was a deep cut, now with ten stitches, giving the otherwise handsome face a Frankenstein’s monster look. His left leg, encased in a cast, was elevated, while various cords hooked him to the monitors.
Standing by his bedside was his fiancée and—himself.
“I don’t understand. Why are you there—” Stephanie nodded down to the unconscious body and then looked back to the Clint by her side “—and here?”
Afraid, Stephanie had refused to leave Clint’s side after climbing out of the van. When they had loaded her lifeless body into a vehicle and the paramedics had freely discussed the fact she was dead, Stephanie didn’t for a moment consider staying with her body and leaving Clint.
Unlike herself, Clint was alive. At least, that was what the paramedics on the beach had said when they had put him in the ambulance. And what was that old cliché? she asked…where there is life, there is hope. Yet, as hours unfolded, she began to realize life no longer applied to her.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave you!”
Clint looked from his body to the woman he loved. “Leave me? No. You can’t. I need you!”
“Clint, it’s obvious. You lived; I didn’t. I can feel it. I have to go. It’s pulling me.” She glanced to her right, seeing a light not visible to Clint.
“No.” He shook his head. “If you can’t stay here, I’m coming with you!”
Stephanie’s eyes widened excitedly. “You would do that?”
Turning to her, he smiled softly. “There’s nothing here for me. You’re the only one that ever mattered.”
Stephanie glanced to the light and then back to Clint. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll be by your side,” he promised.
“But we did something we shouldn’t have. We stole Danielle’s paintings. Are we going to hell now?” Nervously she glanced back to the light.
“It wasn’t your fault. You just went along with me. And it’s not like we killed anyone,” Clint insisted.
“I know…but…” Stephanie’s brow furrowed as she continued to glance from Clint to the light and back to Clint.
“I’ll be by your side. We’ll face this together. I promise.”
“I love you, Clint.”
“I love you, Stephanie.”
“Are you afraid?” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m with you, nothing matters. I won’t leave you to do this alone.”
Stephanie nodded toward the light—the light Clint did not see—and started walking. Just as she reached it, she put out her hand to Clint. He walked toward her, but in the next moment, she vanished.
“Stephanie!” he screamed. There was no answer.
From the hospital Danielle and the chief stopped by Pilgrim’s Point. But Danielle saw no sign of Clint—nor of Stephanie or Darlene. Standing along the cliff, Danielle and the chief looked down to the beach. The van had already been towed away. The only sign of the accident were the fresh tire marks along the highway. After they left Pilgrim’s Point, the chief dropped Danielle at Marlow House; he needed to get back to the office.
At Marlow House, Danielle filled Walt in on his cousin’s condition. She was home for about an hour, contemplating going back to the hospital to see if she could get in to see Clint, when Lily called her. She and Ian were down at Lucy’s Diner, and they wanted her to join them for a late lunch—or early dinner. They also wanted to fill her in on Ian’s meeting with the Historical Society’s board of directors.
“So what did they say when they found out the painting is worth a fortune?” Danielle asked after she joined her friends at the diner.
“To say they were in shock would be an understatement. Ben didn’t quite believe it could be possible until I showed him the Bonnet paintings online,” Ian told her.
“I wonder if Marie and Eva were at the museum when you were talking to them,” Danielle mused.
“They’ve all agreed to keep this quiet until they can provide the proper security for the painting while finding a buyer. And they understand you’d probably appreciate they keep it quiet until you figure out how you want to handle your paintings,” Lily explained.
“So they’re going to sell Eva’s portrait?” Danielle asked, sounding somewhat disappointed.
“I don’t see how they have any other choice,” Ian said. “And neither do they. The money from the sale of that painting will help fund a small museum like theirs for years. Not only would keeping it increase their insurance premium, they would probably end up spending a fortune on improving security around the museum.”
Danielle picked up a menu from the end of the table. As she opened it, she said, “I wonder what Eva is going to think of that.”
Lily shrugged and opened the menu she was already holding.
“What did the chief do with Clint’s paintings?” Lily asked as she skimmed the menu.
“I guess the police department has a couple of storage units that they use to store items—like unclaimed property,” Danielle told them.
“They know who it belongs to,” Lily said.
“True, but Clint’s in the hospital unconscious, and if there weren’t people out there who thought the paintings were worth a fortune, then I’d offer to hold them for Clint. But I don’t need those people showing up at my place.”
“Isn’t the chief concerned about someone breaking into the storage rooms?” Lily asked.
“According to him, the storage units’ location isn’t common knowledge, and it’s always been protocol with his officers not to discuss where property is being held. Apparently, it’s not just priceless artwork that becomes a target after property is held for some reason,” Danielle explained.
“I suppose it’s a good thing the police department has them. Keeps the attention off Marlow House while you get your portraits settled,” Lily said.
Danielle set the menu down on the table and glanced around. “Where is our waitress? I need to order, eat and then get back down to the hospital.”
Twenty-Three
Danielle was in her car, on her way from Lucy’s Diner to the hospital, when her cellphone rang. It was Chris. She put the call on speakerphone.
“I stopped by your house. Walt said you were at Lucy’s with Lily and Ian,” Chris said.
Hands firmly on the steering wheel, Danielle’s eyes looked down the road as she talke
d to Chris. “I just left them. I’m on the way to the hospital now.”
“Walt said you weren’t able to see Clint when you stopped there earlier. Is he still unconscious?”
“As far as I know. But maybe I’ll get lucky, and when I get there, he’ll have come out of it.”
“I hope so. I hate to think of a Walt look-alike wandering aimlessly around Frederickport.”
“Chris, you think you can call Heather for me, give her the heads-up about what’s going on? I know she had a problem seeing you when you had your experience, but her ability has heightened, and if she does see him, she needs to be prepared to nudge him back to his body.”
“What about Evan?” Chris asked.
“When I left the chief earlier, he promised he would talk to Evan about it.”
“I’ll call Heather as soon as I get off the phone. Do you want me to meet you at the hospital? Render some medium-to-medium support?”
“Thanks, Chris, but I better do this alone. As it is, I’m going to have to pass myself off as Clint’s sister in order to get in to see him.”
“I thought he didn’t have any siblings?” Chris asked.
“Exactly.”
“By the way, Eva stopped by my house about an hour ago. She’s not thrilled about the museum selling her portrait,” Chris told her.
“Ahh, so she was at the museum when Ian talked to the board.”
“Apparently both she and Marie were there. She feels her painting belongs in Frederickport. She told me she was unhappy when the theater closed, and she got stuck in a dreary basement for years.”
“You mean her painting got stuck there. She didn’t,” Danielle reminded him.
“You know Eva, a little prone to dramatics.” Chris chuckled.
“Ya think?”
“You’re Mr. Marlow’s sister?” the nurse at the ICU asked after Danielle introduced herself as Clint’s sister in order to gain access to that section of the hospital.
“Yes. How is he doing?” Danielle wondered briefly if it was a crime to try passing oneself off as a family member, but then remembered the chief was standing there while the previous nurse had practically told Danielle to do that very thing.
The nurse sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid there’s still no change.”
“I know they had some tests done to see why he hasn’t come to. Do they know anything more? Why he’s still unconscious?”
“I’m afraid you will need to talk to his doctor about that.”
Danielle fidgeted nervously with her purse’s strap. “Umm…can I see him, please?”
“Certainly. He’s in room C.” The nurse motioned in the direction of room C.
The patient rooms in the ICU reminded Danielle more of cubicles—cubicles surrounding the ICU nurses’ station. Glass windows instead of interior room walls faced the ICU staff, allowing visibility into each room. There were curtains, yet those were only closed to provide privacy when the medical staff or a family member was in with the patient. Instead of solid doors, each room or cubicle had just a doorway for easy and quick access.
As Danielle approached room C, she noted the curtains were drawn. When she reached the doorway, she hesitated to enter. It was one thing to lie about being Clint’s sister in trying to track down his detached spirit, it was another to walk in on a nurse inserting a catheter or giving Clint a sponge bath.
She hesitated at the doorway a moment, only the foot of the hospital bed visible from where she stood, when she heard a female voice say, “You can come in.”
Reluctantly, she entered the room and was immediately relieved to discover Clint fully clothed, covered with the blankets—save for the left leg imprisoned in a cast and suspended—and the nurse wasn’t in the process of inserting anything into any intimate areas of his body.
“Danielle Boatman?” a confused male voice called out.
Danielle’s head immediately jerked to the left. She found a man sitting in a chair along the curtained wall. It was Clint Marlow. Their gazes locked.
“You can come in,” the nurse told Danielle. “I’m just finishing up. I assume you’re a family member?” she asked kindly, flipping through the papers on the clipboard in her hand.
“Umm…yes…his sister. Is there any improvement?”
“My sister?” Clint said with a snort.
At his comment, Danielle’s gaze briefly shot back to Clint before returning to the nurse.
Clint stood abruptly. “Oh my gawd, you can see me!”
“I’m afraid not. But on the positive side, his vitals look good. I’ve seen patients like him just suddenly wake up.” She smiled up at Danielle.
“You can see me, can’t you?” Clint walked to Danielle and stood directly in front of her, just a few feet away, blocking her view of the nurse.
Danielle stepped to the side slightly so that she could see the nurse. In turn, Clint took several steps, again blocking Danielle’s view.
“Yes, I’m hoping that will happen,” Danielle said, finding it difficult to focus with Clint bouncing up and down in front of her, now waving his hands and making ridiculous faces. While he was Walt’s twin, she couldn’t imagine Walt ever making any of the inane expressions Clint was now trying out on her.
“Would you like me to keep the curtains closed while you visit your brother?” the nurse asked, now stepping away from the bed.
“Yes…yes, that would be nice.” Danielle forced a smile. She watched as the nurse adjusted one of the monitors, and then the nursed flashed Danielle a parting smile while heading for the door.
“You can see me! Admit it! Why are you pretending you can’t? I know you can; I saw it in your eyes! Answer me!” Clint shouted.
“I obviously couldn’t talk to you while she was in here,” Danielle hissed under her breath after the nurse left the room.
Clint froze. Momentarily speechless, he stared at Danielle. Finally, he muttered, “Oh my gawd, you really can see me.”
“I thought we already established that,” Danielle whispered. “Now come over here so I can talk to you without drawing attention to us.”
Danielle walked to the chair he had been sitting on a minute ago. She pulled it up to his bedside and sat down, leaning close to the unconscious body.
“I don’t understand. How is it you can see me, but no one else can?” he asked, now standing by her side.
“I suppose you might say I have a gift. I first realized it when I saw my grandmother’s spirit at her funeral,” Danielle explained.
“Are you saying I’m dead? I’m a spirit? A ghost?”
She nodded to the man in the bed. “You are obviously not dead. Don’t you recognize yourself?”
He glanced from Danielle to his body and then back to Danielle. “Yes…but…I mean…”
“You’re more a spirit than a ghost, I suppose. If you were dead, then you’d be a ghost.” She looked up to Clint.
“Like my Stephanie?” he asked sadly.
Danielle nodded. “I assume you know about Stephanie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about her. I know you really loved her.”
“I want to be with her,” he told Danielle.
“Maybe someday. I suppose you will see her again. But you’ve obviously not finished with life here yet. You need to go back into your body.”
He took a step back from the bed, as if the idea repulsed him. “Go back into my body? No. I want to go with Stephanie!”
“Have you seen her? Since the accident?” Danielle asked in a whisper.
He nodded. “Yes. We were together after the accident, on the beach. We watched as they took our bodies away, and they said she was dead.”
“Did she go with her body?” Danielle wondered if Stephanie had moved on or if she was still in post-death limbo.
“No. She came here with me. She was afraid and didn’t want to be alone. But then she felt something pulling her—to some other place. I tried to go with her; she wanted me to. But when she left, I couldn
’t follow her. I’m stuck here. I don’t want to be here. I want to be with Stephanie!”
“I believe there is—actually, I know there is—more after this world here. Stephanie has continued on her journey. And someday, when you’re finished here, you’ll see her again. I’m certain of that.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m finished here now. There is nothing more for me here. I want to go with Stephanie. It’s where I belong. It’s the only place I’ve ever belonged.”
Danielle let out a sigh and looked up sympathetically. “I really am sorry about Stephanie. And I know you’re going to miss her—and grieve for her. But the fact is, you aren’t ready to move on.”
“How do you know?” he snapped.
Danielle pointed to the bed. “Because of that.”
Looking at the man on the bed, Clint frowned. “Because of my broken body? I don’t understand.”
“You can’t move on in your journey until your time here is over. As long as you have a viable body, you can’t just follow Stephanie. In essence, your physical body tethers you to this world.”
“So what are you telling me? That my spirit-self needs to connect with my physical self in order to join Stephanie?”
“That’s just part of it. You have to finish your life here. And considering the nurse says your body is relatively healthy, there’s no reason to believe that once you reconnect to your body, you couldn’t live a long life. Which is something you should want to do. I know it’s hard to lose the person you love—I lost my husband—but that’s no reason to give up on your life.”
“No. I don’t want to live a long life. Not without Stephanie. What if I refuse to reconnect with my body?”
Danielle glanced from Clint to the bed and shrugged. “I imagine your body could feasibly linger for years while you’re stuck in limbo, with only people like me—and there are not that many of us—who will ever see or hear you. Eventually your body will die, but it could be years from now. Why waste all that time in limbo, when you could be living a full life?”
The Ghost and the Doppelganger Page 15