The Ghost Who Lied (Haunting Danielle Book 13)

by Bobbi Holmes

  Walt shrugged and took another puff.

  Danielle shook her head. “Now I have to sanitize the table. I really wish you would have a talk with him, Walt. Tell him to stay off the counters and tables!”

  Walt nodded. “Will do.”

  “What did Walt say about Agatha?” Lily asked as she filled a glass with water at the sink.

  “He hasn’t seen her.”

  “How was the funeral?” Walt asked again.

  Danielle shrugged. “The sermon was a little long. And I suspect it didn’t paint an accurate picture of the deceased.”

  “You can say that again.” Lily brought her water to the table and sat down.

  “What I found uncomfortable was the wake,” Danielle told Walt.

  Lily nodded in agreement. “That was totally inappropriate.”

  “How so?” Walt asked.

  “Whenever we’ve seen the Pruitts together, Joyce’s kids always painted a picture of the doting grandkids. Even when Agatha was…umm…not the most pleasant woman, they would be all smiles and lovey to Gran. At the wake, they didn’t even make an attempt to be sad.”

  “And then two of Joyce’s sons, the youngest and middle one, had too much to drink and then started bragging about what they intended to buy with their grandmother’s money,” Lily said with disgust.

  “I think you’re exaggerating,” Agatha said when she appeared the next moment.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ian drove down Beach Drive. Just before turning into his driveway, he looked over at Marlow House. While the upper portion of the house and the front windows weren’t lit, there were lights coming from the side yard off the driveway. Danielle’s car was also parked in the driveway, and the gate was still open. He assumed someone was in the kitchen or in the library.

  Parking in his own driveway, Ian decided to check his house for Sadie first. If by chance Danielle or Lily had come across the dog, it was possible they had brought her over and put her in the house. Lily still had his house key. However, had Lily or Danielle found Sadie, he would also assume they would have called him by now.

  Ian looked through his house. Sadie was not there. Panic surged. The only upside in worrying about his dog, it kept his mind off what he had seen at Pilgrim’s Point. Although he couldn’t forget it, and he hadn’t found a rational explanation for the experience, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

  When crossing the street, Ian didn’t consider going to the front door. He went straight to the kitchen entrance, where the lights were on. If he spied stemware floating in midair this time, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

  Through the side window into the kitchen, he spied Danielle and Lily sitting at the kitchen table, with the overhead light on and the room brightly illuminated. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. Both Lily and Danielle stopped talking and looked in his direction. Lily stood up and walked to the door.

  “Hello, Ian,” Lily coolly greeted him when she opened the door. Standing just inside the doorway, her hand still on the doorknob, she made no attempt to move to one side and invite him into the kitchen.

  “By any chance is Sadie here?” Ian asked.

  Lily frowned. “Sadie?”

  “When I got home this afternoon, the bedroom screen had been knocked out and Sadie was gone,” he explained.

  Lily gasped. “Someone broke into your house and stole Sadie?”

  Ian groaned. “Damn. I guess that means she’s not here.”

  Stepping aside, Lily opened the door wider and motioned for Ian to enter.

  Danielle stood up and looked at him. “What’s this about Sadie?”

  “Someone stole Sadie!” Lily shut the door and looked anxiously at Ian.

  “I don’t think anyone took her. It looks like she jumped out the bedroom window.”

  Lily frowned. “Jumped out the window? I can’t imagine her doing something like that.”

  “The screen had been pushed out. When I got home, it was on the ground outside. I forgot to close the bedroom window when I left for the funeral. Someone from the inside would’ve had to have pushed it out. And by the tears in the screen, it looks like it was from Sadie’s claws.”

  “Maybe she was barking at someone outside and she jumped at the window, and they took her,” Lily suggested.

  Ian shook his head. “I don’t even want to consider that possibility. She’s been acting a little restless the last few days. I don’t think she was happy when I left without her.”

  “She’s not used to being left alone,” Lily said.

  “When I first realized she was missing, I came over here and knocked on the kitchen door. I knew you weren’t home, but I figured with the gate open, this would be the first place she’d go. But she didn’t answer when I knocked on the door.”

  “Where else have you looked?” Lily asked.

  “Walked along the beach, drove around town. I called the humane society. They told me about a dog that was sighted along…” Ian paused a moment before finishing his sentence. “Pilgrim’s Point. But it wasn’t her.”

  Danielle glanced over to Walt, who sat silently at the table, leisurely smoking his cigar. She frowned at his seeming lack of concern over Sadie’s disappearance.

  Agatha, who had been sitting quietly at the table, listening to what Ian had to say, finally spoke up. “I never understood why people keep dogs as pets. Useless things. Putting their noses in places they aren’t wanted. Defecating all over the yard, and god forbid, sometimes in the house. And the hair! Sticks to everything and they make your house smell. Ugh.” She cringed. “If he was smart, he wouldn’t look for the dog. It did him a favor by running away. Good riddance, I say.”

  Walt turned to Agatha, his eyes narrowed. In a slow and even voice he said, “A person who doesn’t care for dogs and cats doesn’t have a soul. You might want to rethink that before you move on.” Walt took another puff of his cigar.

  “Rubbish, they’re just animals,” Agatha sniped.

  Walt arched his brow. “When we were alive, we were also animals.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. While we technically were in the animal kingdom, you can hardly compare a human to a dog!” Agatha scoffed.

  “So true in your case.” Walt took a puff off his cigar. “A dog gives unconditional love, loyalty, and companionship. A dog will protect your home, give his life for his human family. Tell me, Agatha, when you were alive, did you ever do any of those things?”

  In response, Agatha vanished.

  Danielle’s attention was divided between Walt and Agatha’s exchange, which only she could hear, and Ian and Lily, who continued to discuss Sadie and what steps needed to be taken to bring her home.

  Agatha’s sudden departure allowed her to turn her attention back to Lily and Ian, yet she needed to talk to Walt.

  “If you both want to go look for her, I can stay here, and if she comes home, I’ll call you. I can even check Ian’s house periodically while you’re gone. But if we leave the side gate open and the light on, I’m sure she’ll come here anyway,” Danielle suggested.

  A few minutes later, Ian and Lily left on foot to go look for Sadie. As they headed out the door, Lily called both Chris and Heather to see if they had seen the dog in the neighborhood. Neither of them had.

  WHEN DANIELLE WAS FINALLY ALONE with Walt, she turned to him, her movement slow and deliberate. Arms folded across her chest, her gaze wary, she asked, “Okay, Walt, what’s going on? Where is Sadie?”

  Assuming an innocent pose, yet failing miserably, he responded, “What? Me? I have no idea what you mean.”

  Rolling her eyes, Danielle dropped her arms to her sides, pulled out a kitchen chair, and sat down. Scooting up to the table, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the tabletop while she gazed at Walt, who fiddled with his cigar, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

  “Come on. There is no way in the world you would sit there so calmly while Sadie is missing. Where is she?”

  Reluctantly meeting her gaze, Walt s
hrugged and took a puff off his cigar.

  “Where is she?” Danielle persisted.

  Letting out a sigh, Walt waved his hand. The cigar vanished. “She’s in the attic.”

  “Why is she in the attic?”

  “Because she doesn’t want to leave Frederickport.”

  “Are you saying Sadie has really run away from home?”

  “In a matter of speaking. Although technically, I know she would have happily gone running to Ian when he came looking for her when you were gone. The way she was whimpering, her tail beating the hell out of the sofa, it was killing her to stay put. I imagine it’s been just as hard on her this time too. No doubt she heard Ian’s voice when he came into the house.”

  “It’s pretty clear you did something to make her stay put and hide. But why?”

  Walt pointed to the kitchen door. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  With a frown, Danielle glanced to the door. “What worked?”

  “Lily and Ian are together. They have a common goal, find Sadie. Think of it as a husband and wife who get into a spat and then something happens with their child, and suddenly things are put into perspective.”

  Danielle cocked her brow. “And Sadie is that child?”

  Walt shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Before Danielle could respond, Chris entered the house through the kitchen door. “What’s this about Sadie gone missing?”

  “How did you know?” Danielle asked.

  “Lily called me a few minutes ago, asked if I’d seen her.” Chris took a seat at the table and nodded at Walt. “Hey, Walt.”

  “Where’s Hunny?” Walt asked.

  “I left her at home.”

  “Aren’t you afraid she’s going to chew up something again?” Danielle asked.

  “I put her in her crate.” Chris looked from Walt to Danielle.

  “She hates that crate,” Walt told him.

  “She does not,” Chris countered.

  “She told me she did,” Walt insisted.

  Exasperated, Chris said, “Forget about Hunny. What is this about Sadie? Lily said something about her getting out the window? I’d think she’d just come over here.”

  “She did.” Danielle flashed Walt an accusatory glare. “Sadie is up in the attic.”

  “Then why are Lily and Ian out looking for her?” Chris asked.

  Danielle spent the next few minutes filling Chris in on what she knew about Sadie.

  Chris looked at Walt and shook his head. “This might actually make things worse for Lily.”

  “Why?” Walt asked.

  “You don’t think Ian is going to be pissed when he realizes Lily knew Sadie was safe and sound, yet let him continue to worry? I know I’d be pissed if it was me.”

  “Lily doesn’t know Sadie’s in the attic,” Walt told him.

  “That’s not the point. He’s going to think she does. In a normal world, if a dog like Sadie has snuck into your house through the doggie door, Lily would know the minute she and Danielle came home. Sadie would be all over them.”

  Walt frowned. “Normal world?”

  “One without a resident spirit who has the ability to conspire with the neighbor’s dog,” Chris said.

  “Chris has a point,” Danielle agreed.

  “No, he doesn’t. There’s no reason for Ian to ever know Sadie was here. Once those two work it out, Sadie will mysteriously show up, and that will be that,” Walt insisted.

  “The only way that will work,” Danielle said, “is if we don’t let Lily know Sadie is here. I don’t think she could keep something like that a secret, and this entire rift between them is about secrets and the fact Lily no longer wants to keep them from Ian. This could complicate the matter.”

  “Fine.” Walt shrugged. “We won’t tell Lily Sadie is upstairs. I’ll let Sadie know she needs to stay hidden from Lily.” In the next moment, Walt vanished.

  “I think you need to restrict Walt’s TV time,” Chris said after he was confident Walt was no longer in earshot.

  “Why do you say that?” Danielle asked.

  “This thing with Sadie to get Ian and Lily back together reminds me of some overused sitcom plot.”

  “Walt just hates seeing Lily so unhappy. I think he wants to fix it. He tried a dream hop to talk sense into Ian, but that didn’t work.”

  “I don’t doubt Walt’s good intentions. But the problem with Ian, he refuses to believe in the paranormal world. If Ian ever learns Sadie was here, I really don’t see how you’ll ever be able to convince him Lily wasn’t in on it. To do that, you’d have to get him to believe in Walt.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Getting up early on Thursday morning to drive to Portland for the appointment with Agatha’s attorney proved more difficult for Joyce than she had expected. She was exhausted. The previous day had been draining, beginning with her mother’s service. The shock of discovering Agatha hadn’t already paid for her funeral was followed by Shane and Henry’s embarrassing behavior at the wake, when they both got drunk.

  The only thing that kept Joyce from calling the attorney and trying to set up a later appointment was that she desperately wanted to get Agatha’s estate settled. After that was done, she could leave Frederickport forever.

  Leaving Frederickport was something she had been thinking about since finding those damn gold coins in her safe deposit box. Of course, she initially wanted to leave town so she could run away with the treasure without anyone knowing she had it. Yet now, she wanted to escape a town where everyone knew she had taken the coins. While no one had said anything to her about it—aside from her own children and mother—she could feel people looking at her, judging her.

  She loved her children; however, the idea of putting some miles between her and her sons appealed to her. She would miss living close to Martha, but perhaps Martha and Dennis would consider leaving Frederickport with her. After all, they could afford to move and start a new life after the estate was settled.

  She wouldn’t miss cleaning houses. While she didn’t mind the job—especially the fact she was able to work by herself without some employer hovering over her shoulder, she looked forward to hiring someone else to clean her house for a change.

  Joyce arrived in Portland just in time to make her 11:00 a.m. appointment with her mother’s attorney, Randall Hoover Jr. His father, Randall Hoover Sr., had represented Agatha and Agatha’s husband decades earlier. However, Joyce had met neither Hoover.

  At first, Joyce wondered if she had the wrong address. She had expected her mother’s attorney to have an office in an impressive downtown business building. The Hoover Law Firm kept office in what had once been a residential Craftsman house. Joyce suspected the street had once been lined with residential houses, yet over the years the neighborhood had been rezoned, and the houses to the right and left of the law office had been taken down and replaced by office buildings.

  “So nice to meet you, Ms. Pruitt. I’m just sorry for the circumstances,” Randall Hoover Jr. greeted Joyce after she was brought into his office by his receptionist. He motioned to a chair. She sat down.

  “Thank you for fitting me in. But as I told you on the phone, I don’t have a copy of Mother’s will. She always told me when her time came I was to contact her attorney, that he would have the will.”

  “As I’m sure you know, I never actually met your mother, but we’d spoken on the phone a few times over the years.”

  Joyce looked confused. “I didn’t realize that. I assumed you and her kept in regular contact. At least, that’s the impression Mother gave me. Considering the demands of her estate.”

  “Demands? My father was her attorney, but after he passed away, I took over his clients. Of course, he prepared the will, and there has never been a need to make any changes.”

  “I knew your father had been her attorney originally, but I just assumed…well, I’m just surprised you didn’t have regular contact. I would think that with an estate like hers, it would have been necessary.”


  Hoover picked up a file from the corner of his desk and opened it. Glancing briefly at what was in the file, he looked up at Joyce. “Your mother’s estate is fairly straightforward. She, of course, left everything to you.”

  Joyce bolted upright in her chair. “To me? Everything?”

  Startled by her reaction, he paused a moment and looked at her. “Why yes? Did you expect something different? I assumed you knew.”

  “I-I-I was always told the estate was divided equally between me and my children.”

  “That would have involved making changes to the will. Considering the date it was written, I doubt your children were even born back then.”

  “So what now? My son-in-law says probate can sometimes take up to a year.”

  “This is not really going to involve a probate like that.” Hoover smiled kindly.

  Joyce frowned. “I don’t understand?”

  “Well, the property isn’t worth more than maybe fifty thousand dollars. That’s, of course, if you get a buyer to pay that price.”

  “Property? What property?”

  “Your mother’s real estate in California.”

  “I still don’t understand why this wouldn’t involve probate.”

  “Considering the estate’s value, it really doesn’t warrant a lengthy probate process.”

  “What about my mother’s money?”

  He glanced down at the papers. “From what I have here, your mother had you listed as the beneficiary on her checking account in Frederickport. All you’ll need is a death certificate to access that; you really don’t need my help on that one, it’s fairly easy. You just need to—”

  “I meant her other money,” Joyce interrupted. “I’ve already taken care of her Frederickport bank account.”

  He set the folder back on his desk. “Your parents set up a small interest-bearing account to help pay for any legal fees when settling the estate. Unless there are some unforeseen expenses, I estimate you’ll be getting about two thousand dollars back.”

  “Where is her other money?” Joyce demanded.