The Ghost and the Muse (Haunting Danielle Book 10)

by Bobbi Holmes

  “Heather!” Brian called out. “I’m not done with you.”

  “Well, I’m done with you!”

  “She said all that?” Joe asked Brian later Saturday afternoon when they were back at the station. Joe and Brian sat with the chief in his office.

  “I told you she was an odd one.” Brian looked over at the chief. “Did she really tell you she saw Jolene’s ghost?”

  Absently tapping the end of his pen against his desktop, MacDonald looked over at Joe. “The day she found Jolene’s body, she claimed she saw Jolene running to the pier. But then a few minutes later she found the body, so she figured the woman she saw running to the pier was Jolene’s spirit.”

  Suppressing a laugh, Brian said, “Not to be disrespectful, but I can’t imagine Jolene running anywhere—alive or dead. It was probably some woman who resembled Jolene, and when Heather found the body, she got this crazy idea that the first woman was a ghost. And considering what a nut she is, I’m probably spot on.”

  Joe frowned at the chief. “You didn’t actually believe she saw Jolene’s ghost, did you?”

  “I’m just telling you what she told me. As for Jolene’s ghost—since her murder has been solved, I think we need to focus on the murder at hand.”

  “You think it was murder?” Joe asked. “You don’t think it’s possible he stumbled and fell off the pier on his own?”

  “According to the coroner, the only abrasion was on his head—consistent with hitting the side of the pier during the fall,” the chief explained.

  Joe frowned. He looked from Brian to the chief. “If that was the only abrasion they found, that would mean no defensive wounds, which would indicate Steve possibly fell off that pier on his own—which is hardly murder.”

  “Call it a gut feeling,” the chief said. “I think there is something more to this.”

  “I have to admit, seeing that tackle box upside down and everything scattered around, it did look like something went on,” Joe said.

  Brian thoughtfully considered the possible scenarios. “I’ll be curious to see what the autopsy comes back with. It’s possible he was drinking a little more than coffee, got wasted, and stumbled off the pier on his own. Might just be a stupid accident.”

  “How did Beverly Klein take the news?” Joe asked.

  “I suspect she had a gut feeling this would be the outcome,” the chief told him. “But she looked a little dazed, in shock. Said she had to call their kids. Their daughter lives in Portland and their son recently joined the military. I think he’s stationed in Texas, not sure. I called Susan over at the bank, figured there would be someone she should get in contact with at work.”

  “Does Carla know?” Joe asked.

  “I haven’t talked to her yet. But I don’t think my duties include informing someone their ex-lover is dead. But speaking of Carla, I think we need to tread lightly during this investigation. For the moment, I’d rather Beverly not learn about her husband’s infidelity,” the chief said.

  “I know Danielle found out about her husband’s infidelity when he was killed. I imagine that made his death even worse,” Joe said.

  “Why?” Brian scoffed. “If my wife died and then I found out she’d been screwing around, it would be easier for me to get on with life and not moan over something that was obviously a lie.”

  The chief shook his head. “Damn, Brian, you’re cold. If you really were in love with your wife and she died—and then you found out she was cheating on you—trust me, it would not lessen the pain. It would make it worse.”

  Brian shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But when my wife cheated on me, seeing her dead didn’t sound like such a bad thing at the time.”

  Ignoring Brian’s comment, the chief said, “Depending on what the coroner says, it’s possible this will be ruled an accident, and if that’s the case, there’s no reason for Beverly and her kids to learn about Steve’s wandering eye.”

  “More than his eye wandered,” Brian sneered.

  “And if the coroner suspects foul play?” Joe asked.

  “Then I guess it won’t be kept a secret.” The chief shrugged.

  Saturday evening Chris Johnson sat with Danielle, Lily, and Walt in the living room of Marlow House, waiting for Ian to arrive so they could all go out to dinner. All except for Walt, who’d be staying home with Sadie and Max.

  “I’m glad we don’t have any guests right now,” Danielle said with a sigh. “There are a lot of people who wouldn’t be thrilled to know someone had recently died in their room. As it is, some guest aren’t going to want to stay in a room where someone has died.”

  “Then I guess that makes Hillary’s room, the parlor, and the attic off-limits for guests,” Lily said.

  Danielle cringed. “Umm…that doesn’t sound very good, does it?”

  “You guys haven’t seen her at all?” Lily asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “Nope. Only that one time, when she was leaving the house. My guess, she was in that unaware state. Sort of like when you showed up here from California after the accident.”

  “I wouldn’t say being intentionally hit over the head was an accident,” Lily argued. “And I wasn’t dead. But I know what you’re saying.”

  “Maybe she’s moved on,” Chris suggested. “Between Danielle, myself, Walt, and Heather, I’d think if she were lingering nearby, one of us would have seen her.”

  “About Heather, does this mean she can see me?” Walt asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “I know from what she’s told me, she’s seen glimpses of you. I’ve alluded to the fact you may be around—but I’ve also made it clear I do not want to go public about my abilities. I’m hoping she’ll continue to respect that.”

  “I’m not sure I’d want someone like Heather to be fully aware of my presence. Something about her is a little unsettling.”

  “I guess I’m all the unsettling you can handle at one time, right?” Chris winked at Walt.

  “Oh brother…” Walt muttered and then waved his hand for a cigar.

  “You haven’t seen Hillary, but what about Steve Klein? Do you think his spirit is still lingering?” Lily asked.

  “I haven’t seen it. But maybe I will when we go over there tomorrow,” Danielle said.

  Chris looked curiously to Danielle. “Why are you going over there?”

  “Lily and I are going to take a casserole over to Beverly and give her our condolences.”

  Six

  Beverly Klein sat alone in her living room, staring blankly at the television. It wasn’t turned on. There was a funeral to plan. She had just gotten off the phone with her daughter after successfully talking her into delaying her trip to Frederickport until the funeral. It wasn’t as if it was an especially long drive from Portland to Frederickport, but Beverly wasn’t ready yet to deal with her daughter’s grief over the sudden and unexpected loss of a father. Beverly had her own emotions to wrestle with.

  As for the funeral, the date hadn’t yet been set. Steve’s body had only been found twenty-four hours earlier, and it would be a few days before it could be released—after the autopsy was complete. Beverly wondered, What will the autopsy show? Why did Steve fall off that pier?

  Beverly’s solitude was interrupted a few minutes later when the doorbell rang. She stood up and went to answer the door.

  “Baron!” Beverly greeted Baron Huxley, a longtime friend of her husband, when she found him standing on the front porch.

  Opening his arms, he gathered Beverly up for a comforting hug. “I’m so sorry. I read about Steve in this morning’s paper. I can’t believe it.”

  Beverly accepted the hug. When it ended, she silently ushered Baron into the house and to the living room.

  “Can I get you some coffee?” she offered when she showed him to a chair.

  He gently nudged her to a nearby seat. “Don’t be silly. The last thing I want is for you to be waiting on me. But I’ll be happy to get you some coffee. I want you to know, if you need anything, I’m here for y
ou.”

  Now sitting, Beverly smiled sadly and patted Baron’s hand, which lingered on her knee. “Thank you, Baron. I appreciate that.”

  Baron withdrew his hand from her knee, yet not before giving it a final pat.

  Beverly tilted her head slightly and studied him for a moment. “I suppose you understand what I’m going through—having lost Melissa like you did.”

  He shook his head. “Tragic, senseless circumstances. I suppose losing a spouse is always devastating, but when it’s from pointless violence—or in Steve’s case, a senseless accident—it’s almost impossible to make sense of it all. From what I read, he fell from the pier while fishing?”

  Beverly nodded. “You know how he went fishing every Thursday night. I never really considered fishing alone, especially on the Frederickport Pier, to be especially dangerous. He’s been doing it for years.”

  “Do you know when the service will be?” Baron leaned back in the chair and studied the widow.

  “I don’t know yet. The autopsy might take a few days. And until that’s complete, I don’t really want to set a date.”

  “When are Roxane and Steven arriving?”

  “After I called Roxane yesterday to tell her, she wanted to leave right then and come home. But I didn’t want her driving when she was all emotional. I asked her to wait and come closer to the funeral date. Steven will come for the funeral, naturally.”

  “I still can’t believe it. I saw Steve Wednesday morning when I dropped off the tamales.”

  Beverly smiled. “Steve loved the tamales you’d bring him.”

  “Carlos’s wife makes the best ones…You never liked them, did you?”

  She laughed. “You know I don’t. Something about masa that just makes me gag. I think it’s the texture. Lucky for Steve you kept him in tamales. I sure would never buy them. In fact, he took the tamales with him that night.”

  “I never could understand how he could eat them cold.” Baron shook his head and chuckled.

  “Hot or cold, tamales aren’t for me. But to be honest, Steve and I always had very different eating habits. I tried to get him to cut down on red meat, eat more salads, but I swear, the moment I leave town, he’s eating burgers every day.”

  “I think it’s a man thing.” Baron flashed her a smile.

  “I suppose. And now, considering everything, I should have let Steve eat all the burgers he wanted.” Beverly’s eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “Unfortunately, when it’s our time, I really don’t think there’s much we can do about it.”

  “Do you think it was truly Melissa’s time to go?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he said, “I think Melissa was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “How many years has it been now? Ten?”

  “It was eleven years this past February,” he told her.

  “Are the police still looking for her killer?”

  “It’s not just a cold case—it’s an ice block. I don’t know if you remember, but several witnesses at the time claimed they saw her leaving the bar with a man wearing a dark suit and red bow tie. According to witnesses, they were arguing. But this mystery man, he vanished. No one has ever been able to identify who he may have been.”

  “I remember Steve telling me that.” Beverly dropped her gaze briefly to her lap, regretting for a moment broaching the sensitive subject.

  “I’ve never believed there was anything—between her and that man—like some of the police implied at the time. Sure, we were having a rough spot, but Melissa wasn’t the type to go picking up strange men. He must have done something to convince her to go with him. Melissa was always naïve.”

  Before Beverly could respond, the doorbell rang.

  Danielle hugged to her chest a warm, covered casserole dish—wrapped in a clean towel—filled with a batch of macaroni and cheese she had baked that morning. Comfort food, she thought. Beverly Klein needed comfort food. Next to her stood Lily, who carried a sack filled with homemade chocolate brownies. Chocolate always helps. Together they stood on Beverly’s front porch, waiting for someone to answer the door.

  They didn’t plan to stay long. Just long enough to give their condolences and drop off the food. Initially they had considered calling first, but then decided to just stop by. Danielle wasn’t especially close to Beverly. She and Lily had first met the woman at Marlow House’s open house in July—the disastrous open house where Cheryl had taken off with the Missing Thorndike and had tragically gotten herself murdered.

  But Beverly had always been friendly when Danielle had run into her around town—like at the grocery store or at some function at the museum. Danielle hated knowing about Steve’s infidelity, and she hoped his wife would never have to discover the truth. What was the point? Danielle knew firsthand what it felt like to discover your husband’s betrayal while trying to come to terms with his death.

  “Danielle! Lily!” Beverley greeted them after she opened the front door.

  “We understand if you don’t feel like seeing anyone,” Danielle began. “But we wanted to drop this off—it’s some homemade macaroni and cheese and some brownies. I know that when going through something like this, the last thing you want to think about is cooking—or eating. But you really need to eat.”

  “We’re so sorry to hear about Steve,” Lily added.

  “Oh, this is so sweet of you!” Beverly looked as if she was about to cry. She ushered the women into the house, taking the casserole dish and sack of brownies from them.

  Following Beverly down the entry hall, they paused a moment while she quickly darted into the kitchen to deposit the food. When she returned, she led them to the living room. Baron stood the moment the three women walked into the room.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” Danielle said.

  “No, it’s fine. This is a good friend of Steve’s, Baron Huxley.” She turned to face Baron. “Baron, this is Danielle Boatman, she owns Marlow House, and this is her friend Lily Miller.”

  After a brief round of hellos and nice to meet yous, Lily and Danielle took a seat on the sofa while Beverly sat back down in the chair next to Baron.

  “If there’s anything you need, please let us know,” Danielle said. “If you need a place for any of your family to stay, I’ll be happy to let them use a room at Marlow House. No charge of course.”

  “That’s so sweet, Danielle, I really appreciate the offer. But to be honest I’m not really sure when the funeral will be. I don’t want to plan anything until after the autopsy—and they release Steve’s body.”

  Danielle glanced toward the doorway leading to the hallway and asked, “Are your kids here?”

  “No. But they’ll be here for the funeral. Roxane wanted to come right away, but I didn’t want her driving right now, she was so upset.”

  Danielle frowned. “I thought you had small children.”

  Beverly smiled. “No. Not so little anymore. Although they’ll always be my babies. Roxane is twenty-one and lives in Portland. Steven is in the army, stationed in Texas.”

  “Oh my! I had no idea your kids were that old! I just assumed they were in grade school.” Danielle told her.

  “You look way too young to have college-aged kids,” Lily added.

  Beverly smiled. “Why, thank you. But at the moment, I feel every year of my age.”

  “Times like this, people often say they know what you’re going through,” Danielle began. “They’re just trying to be helpful, I suppose. In some ways, I guess I know a little of what you’re going through, because I lost my husband in a car accident over a year ago. But even then, I have no idea what you’re going through. We all grieve in our own way. And I imagine right now, you’re probably feeling something akin to shock, trying to process it all. But if you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me.”

  Beverly smiled sadly at Danielle. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I remember Steve telling me you had lost your husband.” She tur
ned briefly to Baron and said, “Baron here is a widower. I suppose in some ways it helps to know that there is life after such a loss…you both have done it.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “Do you live in Frederickport?” Lily asked Baron.

  “I have a vacation home here,” he explained. “But I live in Vancouver.”

  “I assume you mean Vancouver, Washington?” Danielle asked with a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Baron and Steve used to work together before we moved to Frederickport,” Beverly explained.

  “Are you in banking too?” Danielle asked.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Baron owns his own finance and consultant company,” Beverly explained.

  “Are you Steve’s old boss?” Lily asked.

  “No, but we used to work together. But then Steve decided it was time to get a real job and work for a company that had benefits and vacation pay.”

  “Steve just preferred a little more security.” The moment the words left Beverly’s mouth, she started to cry.

  Seven

  “Do you think it was the irony of her words that made her cry?” Lily asked. She sat in the passenger seat of Danielle’s Flex as they drove back to Marlow House.

  Danielle glanced briefly to Lily. “How so?”

  “You know, the thing about Steve wanting security, which implies playing it safe, planning his future. And here he goes and gets himself killed, falling off the pier while fishing.”

  “Either that or it just hit her that she’s a widow. That friend of Steve’s was sure good looking for an older guy.”

  “How old do you think he is?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t know. Late fifties, I guess. He has great hair. Why don’t all men let themselves go gray like that? What was it that my mother used to call it? Oh yeah…a silver fox. He was that.”

  “I was sort of surprised he was in financing.” Lily reached up and adjusted the sun visor.