“It’s a good thing I was wrong about Norman,” Heather said as she pulled a chicken wing apart.
“Wrong how?” Lily asked.
“He looks so much like Norman Bates in Psycho, and the way he seemed to be such a mama’s boy. The Norman I imagined he was would have had Danielle crispy in the crematory about now.”
“Not a pleasant thought.” Danielle cringed. “But I did have one ace up my sleeve. Not sure it would have worked, but I was going to use it.”
“And what was that?” Walt asked.
“There was at least one ghost hanging out at that place. I was going to plead with him to contact one of you and send in the cavalry.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t have to rely on that. As we all know, there’s a chance the spirit you met is confined to the funeral home,” Walt reminded her. “And he wouldn’t have been able to contact any of us.”
“Ahh, I have a pretty good idea who you’re talking about.” Eva spoke up. “Did he by chance tell you he fell off the pier after having too much to drink?”
“Yes.” Danielle nodded.
“He’s been hanging around that place for as long as I can remember,” Eva said.
“I have a question, Eva,” Heather asked.
“Yes?”
“You seem to know many of the spirits who hang around Frederickport before moving on. Why is it you never encountered Maisy’s spirit? If Walt’s dream is accurate, it sounds like she might have ventured down to the local cemetery.”
Eva looked over at Walt and smiled. She then looked back to Heather. “As you know, for a number of years I avoided Marlow House. At the time, I thought it best for Walt if he didn’t see me. And I also avoided the local cemetery, as that’s where Angela was confined. In my hauntings, I never had an opportunity to come in contact with Maisy, and I hadn’t heard anything in the spirit realm about her—or the murders. Ghosts aren’t all-seeing.”
Danielle continued playing interpreter for Lily, keeping her apprised of what Marie and Eva were saying.
Heather considered Eva’s answer a moment and then gave it a nod before taking another bite of food.
“Learning Faye was actually Daisy and not Maisy all these years does make a great deal of sense,” Marie said. “I’m surprised I didn’t figure it out earlier.”
“How so?” Danielle asked after telling Lily what Marie had said.
“I always heard how Maisy changed after her sister ran off with Kenneth—how she stopped seeing her friends.”
“That’s because they were never her friends,” Heather said.
“Exactly.” Marie nodded. “Or why she started going by Faye. I remember once one of her friends from high school thought it so odd she suddenly hated her first name. She told me that when they were younger and talked about names for the children they wanted to have some day, Maisy had told her she liked her first name, but didn’t care for her middle name at all.”
“I imagine Daisy felt more comfortable being called Faye. It was a way she held onto part of her identity, even if it was a middle name she had shared with her twin,” Chris suggested. “It’s bad enough murdering your sister—I can’t imagine living with that guilt. But then to have everyone call you by her name.” Chris shook his head at the idea.
“For some reason, I don’t think guilt played a part in her choice of names,” Walt said.
“Also the smoking,” Danielle added. “More than one person mentioned how in their youth Maisy didn’t smoke, but Daisy did. I knew Faye had been a smoker, but I just assumed it was something she had taken up when she was older.”
“That same friend who thought it odd Maisy started going by her middle name once ran into her not long after her sister supposedly eloped with Kenneth. She was surprised to find Maisy smoking and commented on it. Maisy—or more accurately Daisy—told her with all that had happened, being so distraught, she had taken it up. The friend actually found that more understandable than her suddenly going by Faye,” Marie said.
“When I asked Faye if she liked chocolate, because of that essay Maisy had written as a child, I probably didn’t need to ask the question” Danielle confessed.
“What do you mean?” Lily asked.
“When Walt and I were talking to Norman about his mother and aunt, he said something about how his aunt was a bookworm and played the piano.”
“According to that essay, Maisy was the bookworm, played the piano—and liked chocolate,” Lily said.
Danielle nodded. “Norman was right about his aunt being the one who liked those things. He just didn’t know his aunt was Maisy.”
“As much as I hate the fact Danielle could have been killed by asking that question instead of just leaving, the truth is, if she hadn’t, Daisy could have gotten away with murder if Danielle had left and simply gone to the chief,” Walt said.
“Why do you say that?” Heather asked. “Once they got a warrant for Faye’s DNA, everyone would know it was her sister.”
“While they were arresting her, she came up with a plausible defense—she accused Lewis Samson of being the jilted lover who killed them in a fit of jealousy and then killed himself from guilt. I suspect had Faye thought of that earlier, it could have been her ticket to freedom. I’m not sure how they could prove she was really Daisy,” Walt explained. “Not unless they had her fingerprints on file somewhere, which I doubt.”
“See, I did a good thing,” Danielle chirped.
Walt glared at Danielle. “Just don’t do something foolish like that again.”
“So what do you think is going to happen now, with Norman?” Heather asked. “Morton’s estate went to Maisy, not to Daisy. So everything he has basically came to him illegally.”
“I suspect it will depend on Maisy’s will—if she had one,” Chris said. “And there is a good chance Norman will actually be Maisy’s rightful heir anyway. It’s not like he had anything to do with the murders—and he didn’t help his mother cover up the crime.”
“Not to mention, when they ran the DNA on those remains, the only hits that came for Maisy were distant cousins, where the results were rated fair, which could mean they may not even be related,” Danielle said. “So perhaps there are no close relatives out there aside from Norman and Faye to inherit the estate.”
“I hope Norman gets to keep it all,” Lily said. “It’s not his fault his mother is evil. And when he was put to the test, he did the right thing.”
“I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming,” Heather said.
“I don’t think any of us did,” Walt added.
“I never thought the Batemans had anything to do with those remains,” Heather said as she wiped her hands off on a napkin.
“But he reminded you of the guy from Psycho,” Danielle teased.
“True. But I seriously thought Pearl’s family was responsible. I figured it had to have something to do with those roses, especially since someone stole that plant from her yard and then the remains showed up.”
Chris glanced over to her and said, “Sometimes, Heather, a rose is just a rose.”
Thirty-Nine
A phone call woke Lily the next morning. Danielle and Walt were already dressed, awake and sitting in the kitchen having coffee. Sadie, who had also been sleeping on the bed, woke up as Lily rolled off the mattress, grumbling.
“How did you sleep last night?” Danielle asked as Lily stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing a robe and her red hair frazzled as she rubbed sleep from her eyes, Sadie trailing behind her.
“Good. And I would have liked to have kept sleeping. But Bill Jones called and woke me up. He’s coming over in about thirty minutes and checking out the room to paint.” Lily grabbed a cup from an overhead counter and filled it with orange juice. “He’s already familiar with the house, so he gave me a price to paint it if I supply everything. It was fair.”
“I want to go with you when you go over there. I’m dying to find out what Marie got you for the baby,” Danielle said. “What
kind of a baby gift does a ghost give?”
It took Lily a while to get going that morning, and by the time she was dressed and ready to head to her house, Bill was already pulling his truck into her driveway. Together Lily and Danielle walked across the street.
“Morning, Bill,” Danielle greeted him as she walked up Lily’s driveway.
“Hi, Bill, sorry if I sounded grumpy when you called this morning,” Lily began.
He gave Danielle a nod in greeting and then said to Lily, “I guess I woke you up?”
Lily shrugged.
“Adam said you wanted to get the room painted this week. Before I get started, I wanted to make sure I don’t need to pick anything up.”
“I appreciate you doing this on such short notice. As for waking me up, I needed to get up anyway.” She flashed him a smile.
Bill, wearing his trademark worn denims, blue work shirt, and work boots, trailed behind Danielle and Lily as they made their way up the walkway to the front door. A moment later he and Danielle stood quietly as Lily unlocked the door. They then followed her inside.
The three walked through the house and then down the hallway. Lily stopped a moment and frowned at the door to the guest bedroom. It was closed. She was fairly certain she had left the door open before going to Danielle’s house. She remembered because as she was leaving with her suitcase and Sadie to go across the street, she had glanced at the nursery and spied the paint cans sitting inside the room and worried the nursery wasn’t going to get painted in time. She hadn’t stopped to close the door. Or had she?
Dismissing the thought, Lily opened the door to her spare bedroom and walked in without paying close attention. But once she stepped into the room, her eyes widened in surprise. Stunned, she glanced around at the four freshly painted walls.
Frowning, Bill looked around the room and said, “Are you sure you want to paint this room? It looks like it’s—” He paused a moment and looked down. There, sitting on the floor, was a neatly folded—and clearly used—drop cloth. Sitting atop it were several cans of empty paint, a used brush, a roller and a roller pan. “—already been painted.”
“It has…” Lily said in awe, looking around the cheerfully painted room. “Marie. She painted the nursery.”
“Marie? Who’s Marie?” Bill asked.
Catching herself, Lily looked to Bill and said, “I’m so sorry to have dragged you over here. I had no idea the room had been painted. A friend must have done it to surprise me.”
“You say this friend’s name is Marie?” Bill asked as he stepped closer to the walls, inspecting the workmanship.
“Ummm…yes.” Lily and Danielle exchanged quick glances.
Ignoring the exchange between the two women, Bill continued on his inspection, walking around the room. “Does this Marie do this professionally?”
“Umm, no. She’s…retired,” Lily told him, resisting the urge to giggle.
“Well, your friend does beautiful work. A lot of people think they can just slap on paint. Rarely see this quality anymore. Tell your friend if she wants to pick up any side jobs, give me a call.”
After Bill left ten minutes later, Lily succumbed to the laughter she had been holding in since Bill offered Marie a job.
“That is just too funny,” Lily said.
“Yep. The image of Marie working for Bill is—out there.” Danielle chuckled.
“This was the baby gift she was telling me about. I can’t believe what a good job she did.”
Danielle shrugged. “Well, Adam did say Marie was a pretty good painter in her younger years. I guess that old boyfriend of hers really did teach her a few tricks.”
Ian arrived home a few days earlier than expected, and several days later Lily’s parents showed up as promised, bringing the gifts from her first baby shower. Lily found herself unexpectedly happy to see her mom and dad. The next few days her mother helped her decorate the nursery.
Danielle threw a second baby shower while Lily’s parents were still in town. When it was time for them to return to California, Lily and her mother cried. Danielle, who watched the emotional goodbye, couldn’t help but envy the time Lily was given with her mother. Danielle was also happy to see Lily seemed to be appreciating her mother more. It wasn’t that Lily hadn’t loved her mother before, but sometimes the depths of that appreciation isn’t fully realized until the child becomes a parent herself—or the child loses the parent.
The following weeks flew by for everyone—except Lily. As her belly grew larger, the weeks seemed to get longer. The fear she had once experienced about going through childbirth was replaced by a desire to—just get this kid out of here!
Lily’s due date had come and gone. She and Ian were at Marlow House on the last Tuesday evening of September, originally intending to play a game of Yahtzee. The game was soon abandoned so Lily could get more comfortable on the living room sofa. Outside, the wind shook the tree limbs, hitting them against the house.
“Maybe this will be an October baby after all,” Ian suggested.
Lily glared at her husband. “That is not even funny.”
He smiled sheepishly and gave her a gentle pat. “I love you.”
“You’d better,” she grumbled, awkwardly getting to her feet. She wobbled to the open doorway, heading to the bathroom.
When she was out of earshot, Danielle said, “She really does look uncomfortable.”
“I know,” Ian agreed. “She has been a trooper. And I need to be more sensitive about what I say.”
“Especially when you’re her Lamaze coach!” Danielle told him.
The next moment Lily returned. She stood in the open doorway, one hand on her stomach. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Let me guess, the good news, you’re in labor?” Danielle asked excitedly.
Lily nodded, a grin on her face.
“And the bad news?” Ian asked.
“I didn’t quite make it to the bathroom before my water broke.”
Pearl Huckabee stood at the corner windows of her upstairs bedroom, looking down at the street. Overhead, a quarter moon helped light the sky. She watched as someone ran across the street from Marlow House to the Bartleys’. A few minutes later, whoever had run over pulled the Bartleys’ car out of the driveway and parked in front of Marlow House. She couldn’t see what was going on, but a moment later she spied the same car driving down the street, in her direction, with Danielle Marlow’s car following close behind. She couldn’t tell who was in either vehicle.
Wind continued to shake the tree limbs. She worried about the trees she wouldn’t let Craig Simmons trim because she didn’t want to spend the additional money. In the next moment, just as the Bartley car was about to drive by her house, a top portion of the front tree snapped off, sending a massive branch, with countless limbs attached, to the street below, barely missing the oncoming vehicles. Pearl let out a gasp. Had the tree limb landed on either car, it would have surely killed the occupants.
Stunned, she stared down at the vehicles, which were now both stopped, the fallen branch and limbs blocking their way. The driver of Danielle’s car—it looked like a man—got out of the driver’s side of the vehicle and rushed up to the car in front of him. Now standing at the driver’s window, he leaned into the Bartleys’ car. They were obviously discussing the near catastrophe.
Pearl wondered who she should call. She imagined she would be forced to pay to have the branch hauled away—it had come from her tree. Considering her options, Pearl continued to peer out the window, down at the two cars.
A moment later the man who had gotten out of the back vehicle—who she assumed was probably Walt Marlow—stepped back from Bartley’s car and faced the tree limb blocking the road. To Pearl’s utter astonishment, she watched as the limb lifted up from the road, moving upward some twenty feet. She stared dumbly at the sight. The next moment the front car raced down the road and under the hovering branch as if it were nothing but a toll gate.
The branch then turned cloc
kwise so that it ran parallel to the street and slowly fell back to earth, settling along the sidewalk in front of Pearl’s house.
Walt glanced up to Pearl’s house and saw her standing in her upstairs bedroom. She had been watching. He turned and rushed back to the Ford Flex, its motor still running, and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Nice trick,” Danielle told him.
“Pearl saw,” Walt said as he hastily latched his seatbelt.
Danielle peered out the windshield, looking over to Pearl’s house. She saw the woman standing in an upstairs window.
“Well, that’s going to give her something interesting to talk about,” Danielle said dryly.
“It certainly will,” Walt said before putting the car back into drive and racing down the street, heading to the hospital.
Lily looked like an angel, Walt thought. She sat up in the hospital bed, the newborn infant sleeping in her arms, wrapped in a baby blanket, only a sweet pink face peeking out. Ian sat on the side of the bed, one arm wrapped around the new mother—his little family of three. Four if you counted Sadie, and Sadie had to be counted. Family of four. Walt thought Ian might burst from pride the way he looked down at the sleeping babe.
“I thought for sure I was going to have a chaotic Lucy delivery,” Lily said with a sigh of relief.
“What’s a Lucy delivery?” Walt asked.
Lily smiled up at Walt. “I Love Lucy, the sitcom—or any sitcom for that matter—where an episode features the delivery of a baby. Crazy things happen—like a tree falling from the sky, blocking the road.” She grinned up at Walt.
“Thanks again, Walt,” Ian said.
Walt flashed him a smile.
The Ghost and the Baby Page 25