by Bobbi Holmes
“Worse?”
“To really love someone and then realize you’re responsible for their death. And then you keep quiet about it for fear of being arrested. I’d think something like that would simply eat a person up. Maybe even drive them insane.”
“Perhaps.” Beverly flashed Maria a bright smile. “I need to go grab myself a carton of milk to go with these cookies! It was wonderful seeing you, Marie. Say hi to Adam for me.”
“YOU THINK Marie wanted to bring over dessert because she feels guilty?” Lily asked Danielle. She and Ian sat in the living room with Walt and Danielle, waiting for Marie and Adam to arrive.
“She didn’t say anything about the house,” Danielle said, “if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“Marie has nothing to feel guilty about. This entire thing is my fault,” Ian grumbled. He leaned back on the sofa, where he sat with Lily.
Sadie announced Marie and Adam’s arrival a few minutes later when she jumped up and started barking just moments before the doorbell rang.
Marie had decided against bringing ice cream with her bakery item. Instead, she walked into the living room with Adam, who carried a boxed cheesecake in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“The chocolate cake and apple pie looked good,” Marie explained as she took a seat. “But then I saw the cheesecake. And of course, I couldn’t imagine the grocery store bakery’s chocolate cake would be as good as Danielle’s, or their apple pie as good as Old Salts. But the cheesecake looked rather tasty.”
“This is very sweet of you,” Danielle said as she removed the cheesecake from the box Adam held, and then set it on the coffee table.
Sadie eyed the cake, her tail wagging.
“Don’t even think about it,” Walt warned, pointing to the throw rug by the fireplace.
From the corner of his eye Ian noticed Sadie’s subtle change. He himself was about to call the dog from Danielle’s side and have her go lie down. But she seemingly decided to move in the opposite direction on her own accord, and then plopped down with an unceremonious grunt on the small throw rug. Her eyes were still on the cake, yet now she was too far away to sneak a taste.
Ian suspected Walt had given Sadie the command to move and park herself. He wondered how many times in the last year a similar situation had occurred while he had failed to notice. He chided himself for having been supremely unaware of his surroundings. How had he not noticed such odd behavior?
Picking up a stack of paper plates she had set on the table before Marie and Adam’s arrival, Danielle asked, “Everyone want some cheesecake now?” The answer was unanimous, and for the next few minutes Danielle sliced up portions of the cheesecake while Adam passed out the plates.
“I brought some wine, if anyone wants some,” Adam said, pointing to the bottle of wine he had set on the game table. Next to the wine bottle was a pitcher of ice water and glasses.
“Maybe later,” Danielle said. “Perhaps wine and cheese go together, but I’m not so sure about wine and cheesecake. Does anyone want some water?”
“I’d love some,” Marie said as she took a bite of her dessert.
“This was really nice of you two to bring this over,” Lily said.
“When I heard you and Ian were not only back together, but engaged, I thought we should celebrate,” Marie told her. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you, Marie,” Ian said.
“And I wanted to talk to you two about my house,” Marie said.
“It’s okay, Marie,” Ian told her. “I understand you wanted to sell it, and it’s my own fault for impulsively giving Adam my notice.”
Marie looked sharply at her grandson. “See, Adam, didn’t I tell you?”
Adam rolled his eyes. Before taking another bite of cheesecake, he said, “Yeah, you were right.”
Marie looked at Lily and Ian and smiled. “I told Adam you two would be getting back together—that it was only a little lovers’ spat. Goodness gracious, Adam’s grandfather and I must have broken up a half a dozen times before we finally walked down the aisle. That’s why I wouldn’t sign the sales contract.”
“You didn’t sign it?” Ian blurted.
“You mean you didn’t sell the house?” Lily asked hopefully.
Marie shook her head and smiled. “No. When he came over Friday, I told him I wasn’t going to sign anything until I was certain Ian really intended to move. So if you still want the house, you don’t have to move at the end of the month.”
“Oh yes!” Ian shouted. “I love your house. And I would love to stay. But if you still want to sell, I’d like to buy it.”
Smiling, Marie glanced at Adam and nodded. “See, I told you so.”
Adam chuckled and then looked over at Ian and Lily. “While I’m glad you two worked it all out, part of me wishes you hadn’t. Grandma is going to be unbearable to live with.”
“Adam, that’s awful!” Danielle laughed.
Marie shook her head at Adam and muttered, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
Adam snatched the now empty paper plate from his grandmother’s hands and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
CHRIS SHOWED up at Marlow House in time for a slice of cheesecake. When Heather arrived, the cake was gone—as were Adam and Marie.
“I waited until after Marie and Adam left,” Heather explained. She sat where Marie had been sitting fifteen minutes earlier. She glanced around.
“I wasn’t about to miss dessert,” Chris said with a grin. “Not when Danielle told me Marie and Adam were bringing something over.”
Confused, Ian glanced around. “Are we having some party I wasn’t told about?”
“I just thought it might be a good idea to do this as soon as possible,” Danielle explained. “And unless our current guests decided to see a different movie, they should be gone for at least another hour.”
“Do what?” Ian asked.
Chris looked over to Ian. “Now that you know about…well…you know…Danielle thought it might be a good idea if she got us all together and let you ask whatever questions you might have.”
“After we catch you up,” Lily corrected.
“What do you mean, catch me up?” Ian asked.
“A lot has happened this last year that you aren’t aware of,” Lily explained. “Learning about Walt or how Danielle and Chris, or Heather and Evan, can see ghosts—or how Walt can communicate with Sadie and Max—is just part of it.”
Ian frowned. “What more could there be?”
“Well…there was Cheryl…” Danielle murmured.
“Cheryl?” Ian asked.
“I think Dani means Cheryl’s ghost. But I’m pretty sure I already told you about Cheryl,” Lily explained. “But then there was that time Stoddard haunted our yard…”
“And your out-of-body experience,” Danielle reminded Lily.
“And mine,” Chris added.
“And don’t forget the ghost Chris brought with him when he showed up for Christmas.” Lily grinned. “Or Lucas’s visit on Valentine’s Day.”
“Ugh…and that creepy muse guy.” Heather shuddered. “And the leprechaun!”
“The muse wasn’t that bad,” Danielle countered.
Ian let out a groan and sank down in his seat, closing his eyes, while those around him rattled off all that had happened in the past year—many of which had happened right before his eyes, which he had been unable to see.
FORTY
According to the clock in the hallway, it was a few minutes past midnight. The guests staying at Marlow House had returned from the movies and had since retired for the evening. Lily was over at Ian’s, and Walt suspected she wouldn’t be returning until morning. The only bedroom with light slipping out from under its door was Danielle’s. Without knocking, Walt moved through the wall, into her room.
Walt found Danielle sitting up in bed, tucked under the covers, and leaning against a pile of pillows. Sitting on her lap was her portable computer. With her
attention on its display, her fingers danced gracefully over the keyboard. Walt wondered what she was researching this evening.
Silently moving closer to the bed, he noticed she was already occupying just one side of the mattress, leading him to believe she was expecting him.
“Danielle,” Walt whispered.
Looking up from her computer, Danielle smiled. “I was hoping you’d come say goodnight.” With one hand, she patted the empty spot next to her. Walt accepted her invitation, and a moment later he was sprawled out next to her, his shoes already off, as he too leaned back against the pillows stacked in front of the headboard.
His attire was far more formal than hers—a light blue three-piece pinstripe suit—while she wore an oversized T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms—its fabric adorned with cartoonish kittens. She hadn’t yet unbraided her hair, and remarkably much of it remained neatly in place.
“Do you think we overwhelmed Ian tonight?” Danielle asked in a whisper.
“He did seem a bit dazed.” Walt chuckled. “But he’ll deal with it. He has Lily to help him.”
“There were a couple of times there tonight I got the impression he thought we were pulling his leg.”
Walt chuckled again. “Yes, I noticed that too.”
Danielle let out a sigh and looked back down at the computer.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Danielle grinned and looked up at Walt. “Actually, I’ve been working on your family tree.”
“My family tree?”
“More like I’m stalking your cousin—the other Walter Clint Marlow.”
“I go by Walt,” he reminded her.
“But your real name is Walter, right?”
He shrugged. “Yes, but it always sounded so formal.”
“Well, your cousin doesn’t go by Walter either. He uses his middle name.”
“Clint?”
Danielle nodded. “Yep.”
“You learned that on that ancestry site?”
Danielle shook her head. “No. I found his Facebook account. Since he uses it for work, he doesn’t seem to have many privacy settings on, so I can see his pictures.”
Walt arched his brow. “What else have you learned about him?”
“He’s engaged. Very hot lady. Wanna see?” Danielle asked mischievously.
“Certainly.” Walt leaned closer to the display and looked while Danielle clicked on a link, opening a photograph. It was a picture of a man and woman at the beach—the man looked exactly like Walt, but was shirtless, wore faded denims, and was barefoot. He was obviously Walt’s cousin. Next to the cousin was a tall bikini-clad blonde, her slender figure boasting a disproportional amount of bosom.
“Oh my,” Walt muttered.
“From what I’ve read, I’m pretty sure that is the fiancée.” Danielle glanced over at Walt and noticed he continued to stare at the picture. “They’re fake, Walt.”
“Fake? What is fake?”
Danielle chuckled. “The breasts, of course.”
Dazed, Walt shook his head and muttered something under his breath.
“I was thinking of asking him to be my Facebook friend,” Danielle said.
“Why would you do that?” Walt frowned. “I thought you just said he was engaged.”
“Asking him to be my Facebook friend doesn’t mean I’m trying to hit on him. I just thought you might want to meet your cousin someday. Maybe he and his fiancée would like to come stay for the weekend.”
Walt shook his head. “No, Danielle. I’m naturally curious about my cousin. But I don’t want you to do anything rash. We don’t know anything about this man.”
“I just thought I could send him a friend request and tell him I inherited Marlow house, and say something about finding him on the computer when I was researching you, and then mention how much he looks like your portrait.”
Walt shook his head again. “Please don’t do that. At least not yet. Find out more about him. I’ve gone this long without seeing any family members, and people get strange when money is involved.”
Danielle frowned. “Money?”
“Yes. He might argue he should have inherited my estate instead of you, because he’s a blood relative.”
“I didn’t really consider that.” Danielle wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t think he’d have any legal standing.”
“Let’s not open that particular Pandora’s box right now. I think you’ve had enough excitement lately.”
Danielle closed her laptop and let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. Speaking of excitement, have you seen Agatha? I haven’t seen her since this afternoon. Do you think she really left?”
Walt shrugged. “She told me she intended to.”
“I’ve decided I’m going to call my insurance agent on Monday.”
“Insurance agent? What for?”
“If Agatha fell down those stairs—without her grandson pushing her—then maybe I am in some way liable. I was going to tell him the family’s planning to sue and that maybe we should approach Joyce with a settlement.”
“I thought her daughter told you at the police station her mother wasn’t suing.”
Danielle shrugged. “Well, I won’t tell my agent that.”
Walt nodded toward the laptop. “Are you done?”
Danielle yawned. “I guess.”
The next moment the laptop lifted off Danielle’s lap and drifted to the dresser.
Watching the computer, Danielle giggled. “Thanks, Walt.”
The next moment, Walt was no longer next to her, but standing by the bed. “You need to get some rest. You’ve had a rough week.”
Danielle yawned again. “I guess you’re right.”
“And no dream hop tonight,” Walt said sternly, pulling the blankets up around Danielle, tucking her in. “You need a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes, Dad.” Smiling, Danielle snuggled into the bed.
Walt grinned down at Danielle, blew her a kiss, and then disappeared. A moment later, the bedroom light turned off.
SHANE OPENED HIS EYES. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He had been here before. The attic at Marlow House. Glancing around, he saw that he was alone, standing in the middle of the enormous room. Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Dazed and confused, he stumbled to the back window. Looking outside, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Folding tables and chairs were set up in the side yard, as was the croquet set. Sitting at the tables, lingering in the yard, standing on the patio, and playing croquet were people—some he recognized, some he did not. He spied the table he had been sitting at with his family. The only ones there now were his mother and Martha. They appeared to be talking. Not far from his mother and sister was his brother-in-law, Dennis, who stood by the barbeque, chatting with Adam Nichols. The overwhelming sensation of déjà vu washed over him. This had all happened before.
Pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead, Shane closed his eyes and muttered, “I don’t understand. How can I be here again?”
Opening his eyes, he found it difficult to breathe—suffocating.
“I need to get out of here,” he said under his breath as he headed for the door leading to the stairwell.
The moment he reached the exit, he froze. He knew what was going to be on the other side of the door, and something deep inside told him not to go there. Yet he couldn’t stay in the attic indefinitely.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob, clutching it tightly. Pushing himself to keep moving, he swung open the door and was relieved to discover no one was standing there. Taking another deep breath, he started down the steps, wanting nothing more than to get down the two flights of stairs and out of this house. He wanted to get away from Marlow House—far away.
He made it halfway down the staircase when he saw her. His right hand clutching the handrail, Shane froze. The woman was looking down, watching the placement of her feet as she progressed up the steps. All he could see was
the top of her gray head.
Yet Shane knew immediately who it was, just as he had the last time. Unable to move, he just stood there as she took another step up the staircase—bringing her closer to him. Finally, she stopped and looked up, her eyes meeting his. A smile turned her pale lips.
“Shane, are you just going to stand there?” Agatha asked.
“Wha…what are you doing up here? Where’s your wheelchair?”
“Funny, that’s exactly what you said the last time.” She took one more step up the staircase.
“Last time?”
“I believe I was standing about where you are, the last time. Maybe if I get a little closer, you’ll remember.”
Abruptly, Shane took a step backwards, almost stumbling on a step. His right hand clutched the handrail a little tighter.
Agatha laughed. “Why do you look so terrified, Shane? I remember when you were a little boy. You didn’t like going into the haunted house on Halloween. Do you remember that?”
“I think you should go back downstairs, Gran,” Shane told her.
“Why don’t you push me like you did the last time? I’ll probably get there faster that way. Won’t I?”
Shane took another step backwards—up the stairs. Agatha followed him, her pace matching his.
“You remember now, don’t you?” Agatha taunted, her eyes never leaving his.
“I’ve got to be dreaming,” Shane muttered. “That must be it.”
“Oh yes, you’re dreaming. But that doesn’t mean I’m not here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know what you did.”
Shane’s eyes widened, his gaze locked with his grandmother’s. Trancelike, he stepped toward her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and then shoved abruptly, sending Agatha’s frail body tumbling down the stairs like a rag doll. She landed with a thud on the second-floor landing, her head and neck bent in an awkward position.
Dazed, Shane remained standing midway on the attic staircase, looking down at his grandmother’s lifeless body. He was about to shout for help, when she suddenly jumped up and ran back up the stairs.
Once she reached him, he placed his hands on her shoulders and shoved—and once again she toppled down the stairs, landing in a lifeless heap. And just as before, when he was preparing to scream for help, she jumped up, running back up the stairs.