by Bobbi Holmes
The six-year-old stopped a few feet from Ian. His tongue swiped away the chocolate residue. “Joanne let us lick the frosting bowl.”
“Lucky kid.” Ian smiled. Just as the boy was preparing to take off, Ian impulsively crooked his finger at Evan, beckoning him to come closer. When the boy complied, Ian whispered, “It’s okay, I know about you and Walt.”
Evan’s eyes widened. “You can see him too?”
Startled by Evan’s response, Ian concealed his reaction and stammered, “Not exactly. But you can?”
“Lily told you, didn’t she?” Evan whispered.
Lily? Resisting the urge to frown, Ian forced a smile and asked, “So you like Walt?”
“Oh yes! And you know, so does Sadie. She loves coming over here to play with him. But Walt has to guard Danielle and the necklace today, so I guess that’s why Sadie couldn’t come over, right?”
“Umm…yes, that’s right.”
“When Danielle puts the necklace back in the safe and Walt doesn’t have to watch it, can Sadie come over then?”
“Ummm…sure…I guess so.”
“Good!” Evan beamed. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, but one thing, Evan. Can I ask you a favor?”
Evan blinked several times and nodded. “Sure, I guess. What?”
“I really don’t want to get Lily in trouble for telling me. And then she’ll get mad at me for saying something.”
Evan grinned. “You don’t want anyone to know you know about Walt, huh?”
“Something like that. But I don’t want anyone to know I know about you, either. Like I said, I don’t want Lily mad at me for opening my big mouth.”
Evan nodded solemnly. “I understand. They told me I need to keep the secret because people won’t understand. I don’t want Lily to be mad at you. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”
“Thanks, Evan. I appreciate it.”
Evan flashed Ian a wide smile and then turned and dashed to the downstairs bathroom.
Standing alone in the hallway, Ian stared dumbly at the now closed bathroom door, which Evan had just slammed shut behind him. Shaking his head in disbelief, Ian muttered, “What kind of game are they playing?”
SEVEN
“I think something’s bothering Ian,” Lily told Danielle later that afternoon. The two were alone in the kitchen. Alone if one didn’t count Walt, who lingered nearby, keeping a close eye on the Missing Thorndike. Guests had been coming and going for several hours already, and Joanne was outside offering a tray of cupcakes to the people sitting in the side yard.
Danielle paused from her task of filling the pitcher with ice cubes and glanced over to Lily. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” Lily narrowed her eyes, as if she hoped to see something that was just beyond her reach. “He just isn’t acting himself. Did he say anything when he got here?”
Danielle dumped the ice in the pitcher and then turned to Lily and said, “There was just that thing about Walt.”
“Walt?” Lily glanced briefly over to where she imagined Walt was standing—if one judged by the light scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air.
Danielle then went on to tell her about Ian’s question when he arrived, along with Eddy’s response.
“Hmm, that might explain why I found him staring at Walt’s portrait earlier today, when he was giving someone a tour of the house,” Lily muttered. She then looked at Danielle and asked, “Do you think he suspects Walt’s ghost is here?”
“Spirit,” Walt corrected. Unfortunately for Walt, Lily couldn’t hear him.
Danielle laughed and poured tea into the pitcher. “I seriously doubt it. From Ian’s perspective it was nothing but silly talk from a couple of boys. Trust me, when you start talking ghosts, people rarely take it seriously. If something’s bothering him, I doubt it’s that.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Lily muttered, wandering over to the kitchen window and looking out to the side yard. She spied Ian standing by the barbecue in the outside kitchen, talking to Adam Nichols, who was roasting hot dogs. Beyond the outside kitchen she noticed Joyce Pruitt sitting at a table with her mother and two of her sons.
“I can’t believe Joyce showed up,” Lily said.
“I don’t think she wanted to. I have to admit I feel sorry for her. She looked pretty uncomfortable when she got here.”
Walt wandered over to the kitchen window and stood next to Lily. He looked outside.
“You think she asked her mother to call you, see if she could come?” Lily asked.
“No. My gut feeling, Agatha made that call on her own. I don’t think Joyce wants to be here. Which is too bad, because I really don’t have any hard feelings for her. Heck, Adam is out there roasting hot dogs for us, and if those gold coins ended up in his safe deposit box, we know what he’d do.” Danielle laughed.
“You don’t think he’d give them back?” Lily asked in a teasing voice.
“Only if his grandmother made him.” Danielle snickered.
Lily grabbed the pitcher of tea Danielle had prepared. “I’ll take this outside, since you’re confined to the house.”
A few minutes later, Danielle was alone in the kitchen with Walt. She stood with him by the window and looked outside.
“I think maybe I’m being a little silly staying inside. I really don’t think someone’s going to run up and grab the necklace off me.”
Walt waved his right hand and his cigar vanished. He turned to Danielle. “You’re probably right. But I must admit, I’ve been enjoying spending the day with you.”
BEER IN HAND, Ian stood near the barbecue and watched as Lily walked from table to table, refilling ice tea glasses while chatting to the various guests. Beyond the tables, near the open gate leading from the side yard to the front street, Chris and Heather sat at a card table, selling tickets. Although, it had been over thirty minutes since anyone new had arrived.
He then noticed the chief at the other end of the yard, chatting with Joe Morelli, Brian Henderson, and his sister, Kelly. By the empty paper plates in their hands, he suspected they had just finished eating.
Ian had spent the last couple of hours giving tours of Marlow House, but now most everyone was outside, enjoying the food and pleasant weather. Should someone want a tour, Danielle was still inside.
“I haven’t seen Melony today. I thought she’d be here,” Ian asked Adam.
“She had to fly back to New York. It was kind of spur of the moment. Something to do with one of her past cases.”
Ian nodded at Adam’s answer and then glanced over at the house. “I’m surprised Danielle didn’t arrange to have someone stay in the house with her.”
“What do you mean?” Adam asked as he added more hot dogs to the grill.
“She’s wearing the Missing Thorndike. I remember last year Joe kept an eye on her the entire time—and even then, Cheryl managed to get away with the necklace. I asked Lily what they planned to do about security this year, and she said the chief was going to be here, and Danielle planned to stay in the house and not go outside. For whatever reason, they felt she’d just be vulnerable outside. But she was inside last year when she lost the necklace.”
“To be fair, she handed the necklace to her cousin. I don’t think that’s going to happen this year. And she probably feels safe with all those cameras,” Adam suggested.
Ian took a swig of beer and then asked, “What cameras?”
“The security cameras she has installed all over the house.” Adam poked the hot dogs with the end of a long barbeque fork, rolling them from one side to another.
“When did Danielle get security cameras?”
Adam shrugged. “She’s had them forever. Of course, she’s never come out and admitted it; I just figured you probably knew about them.”
Ian shook his head. “No. This is the first I’ve heard about security cameras. And I’ve been all over the house. What makes you think she has security cameras set up?”
&n
bsp; Glancing around to see who was within earshot, Adam moved closer to Ian and said under his breath, “I know you know about the time Bill and I…ummm…”
“Smashed the library window and broke into Marlow House?” Ian said with a chuckle.
“In all fairness, Bill broke the damn window. That wasn’t part of the plan. And we did fix it. We didn’t take anything. It was a stupid prank, I admit.”
“But what does that have to do with security cameras?”
“How do you think Danielle knew it was us? Had to be security cameras, like the one I had in my office. Remember? That one caught Renton planting evidence.”
“So you’re saying Danielle knew you and Bill broke in because it was all captured by a security camera?”
“Had to have been it. After all, she even knew what shirt Bill was wearing that day. As far as I know, there were no eye witnesses. And when I’ve asked her about it, she’s never denied it.”
With a frown, Ian stared across the yard at Lily, who stood by a table, chatting cheerfully with Adam’s grandmother, Marie Nichols, and the widow of Steve Klein, Beverly.
How is it possible Marlow House is rigged with security cameras, and I not know? Why wouldn’t Lily have said something?
Absently, Ian shoved his free hand into his pocket holding the engagement ring. He squeezed the pouch briefly and could feel the hardness of the object inside. Since buying the engagement ring, he hadn’t experienced a moment of doubt. At least, not until now.
IAN HELPED himself to one of the hot dogs. After filling his paper plate with a scoop of potato salad and a handful of chips, he walked to Lily, who was coming in his direction, carrying an empty pitcher.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he asked when they met.
“You mean aside from cupcakes?” Lily asked with a laugh. “No. But I’m not really hungry.”
“You want to join me anyway?” Ian nodded toward one of the tables with some empty seats.
Standing on tiptoes, Lily kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back out in a minute. I need to take this in the house. But start eating. Dani might make me do something when she sees me.”
Smiling weakly, Ian nodded.
Instead of heading for the house, Lily paused a moment and studied Ian. “Hey, Ian, you okay? You seem a little…I don’t know, distant today. Is something wrong?”
Ian considered her question a moment and then smiled. “No. I just have a lot on my mind lately.”
“Maybe we can talk about it tonight at the fireworks display—just you and me. Okay?” Lily asked.
Ian smiled. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”
IAN ENDED up sitting alone with Brian Henderson. When he first arrived at the table, Kelly and Joe were sitting with Brian, but just as Ian sat down, Joe asked Kelly if she wanted to play croquet, a new game was about to start.
“They give you time off from playing tour guide?” Brian asked. He leaned back in the folding chair; the used paper plate sitting before him held only a crumpled paper napkin.
“Seems like everyone has moved outside. Did you take a tour with Danielle or Lily?” Ian picked up his hot dog and took a bite.
“I’ve seen the house. Anyway, I’d rather stay out here. That place always creeps me out.”
Ian set his hot dog back on his paper plate. “Yeah, Kelly was telling me about that last night. Said you and Joe have experienced some strange things in Marlow House.”
“Considering all the time you’ve spent over here, I imagine you’ve got some stories.”
Ian shrugged. “Not really.”
“Well, maybe Walt Marlow’s ghost just likes you better,” Brian said with a laugh.
“So that’s who you think it is? Walt Marlow’s ghost?” Ian asked.
Brian looked up at the house for a moment, his attention on the attic. He then glanced over to the side gate, where Chris sat with Heather at the folding table.
“In all seriousness? I have no idea what’s really behind the strange things that have happened. But whatever it is, I’m not sure it’s even about Marlow House per se.”
Ian frowned. “What do you mean?”
Brian nodded toward Heather and Chris. “Take Heather Donovan, for example. She’s an odd one. She’s claimed she can see ghosts—and then later retracts her claims. And her ghosts aren’t confined to Marlow House. Hell, maybe it’s just something in the local drinking water.” Brian picked up his can of beer and took a swig.
AGATHA PINE SAT with her family at one of the tables set up on the concrete patio portion of the side yard. A table on the lawn was not an option—not with Agatha’s wheelchair.
She enjoyed the stream of guests, who while passing her way, stopped and chatted with her for a moment, inquiring on her overall health and remarking on how well she looked. They often commented on the fact she seemed to always be surrounded by her family—her daughter and grandchildren—which was of course a testimony to what a fine and grand woman she was.
“I’m sorry about having to borrow money from you,” Agatha overheard Joyce say to Dennis.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dennis insisted. “I planned to pay for our own tickets anyway. You certainly didn’t have to pay for all of us.”
“I promise I’ll pay you back,” Joyce told him. “I swear I had forty dollars in my wallet.”
“If you weren’t so scatterbrained, Joyce, you wouldn’t always be finding yourself in these embarrassing situations,” Agatha snapped. Choosing not to reply, Joyce slumped down in her chair and took a sip of her soda.
A moment later, Evan MacDonald ran toward their table, en route to the croquet set on the far side of the yard. Just as he was about to pass Agatha, she reached out and snatched him by the arm, bringing him to an abrupt halt.
Startled, Evan, slightly out of breath, stood still and looked at the elderly woman through wide eyes.
“It’s very rude to run, boy,” Agatha snapped, her right hand still clutching his arm. Narrowing her eyes, she studied him. “You’re the chief’s youngest boy, aren’t you?”
Evan silently nodded the affirmative.
Releasing his arm, she gave him a little shove and said, “You go tell your father to teach you some manners!”
When Evan didn’t move, she gave him another shove. “Go, boy, do as I say!”
“WHAT’S WRONG, Evan?” MacDonald asked his son when the boy appeared by his side, clutching his arm. The two stood under a tree near the croquet set.
Evan quickly told him what had just happened with the elderly woman. MacDonald looked over to the table where Agatha Pine sat with her family. She scowled in his direction, her lips pursed.
“Ahh, Agatha Pine. That explains it.” MacDonald smiled and gently tousled his son’s hair.
“Dad, why is she in that wheelchair?”
“Agatha has been in that wheelchair for about a year now. I suspect that’s why she takes special offense to someone who can still use his legs.”
“You mean she can’t run anymore?”
“Or walk. From what I understand, the only way she can get around without that chair is if she holds onto someone’s arm. Was a time she used a cane. But I don’t think she can even do that anymore.”
EIGHT
“I want to take that tour of the house,” Agatha announced. “I want to see what’s upstairs.” She sat alone at the table with her daughter. Her grandchildren had all since wandered off, each saying they would return shortly.
“I told you, Mother, it’s too dangerous. We can’t get you upstairs in the wheelchair.”
“You can help me walk up the stairs. You help me get around when we’re at home.”
“That’s different. Helping you get into the bathroom is not the same thing as walking up an entire staircase.”
“Two staircases. I want to see the attic. That’s where Walt Marlow was killed. That’s where Danielle found the Missing Thorndike.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Don’t be rude, Jo
yce. I can walk up the stairs if you help me.”
“Even if I could help you up the stairs, you expect to hold onto me while you tour the entire second and third floor?”
“Henry said he could carry the wheelchair upstairs for me.”
“Then I suppose you should talk to Henry about it when he gets back,” Joyce suggested.
Fortunately for Joyce, Henry was one of the first of her children to return to the table. In his hand he carried a chocolate cupcake, which he set before his grandmother.
“Oh, Henry, how sweet!” Agatha gushed.
“That looks good,” Joyce murmured, eyeing the cupcake. She looked up to her son, “Did you bring me one?”
Henry pointed across the patio to Joanne, who carried a platter of cupcakes. “Joanne’s handing them out.” He didn’t offer to get his mother one.
“Henry, when I finish this, will you please take me on that tour you promised me? Your mother refuses.”
“Sure, Gran.” Henry leaned down and planted a kiss on her weathered cheek. “You enjoy your cupcake and let me run to the bathroom, and when I get back, I’ll take you on the tour. No wheelchair is going to stop my gran!”
“Why can’t you be more like Henry?” Agatha asked Joyce before shoving the cupcake into her mouth.
Twenty minutes later, Agatha had long since finished her cupcake, yet there was no sign of Henry. Joyce had retrieved a cupcake for herself and was just sitting down to eat it when Agatha said, “Wheel me into the house to find Henry.”
“I’m going to eat this first, Mother,” Joyce insisted.
“You could have eaten that when I had mine. I want to go now.”
Joyce let out a sigh yet did not stand back up. Instead, she took a bite of the cupcake.
“If you must eat it, eat it while you wheel me into the house.”
“You can just wait a few minutes. It’s not going to kill you.” Joyce leaned back in her chair and slowly nibbled the cupcake.
“You’re just being insolent.”