The Ghost of Valentine Past

by Anna J. McIntyre

“Probably because I spent the morning with their co-workers,” Walt suggested.

  Danielle let out a grunt then asked, “So tell me, what’s the coroner’s theory?”

  “Morris was sitting down at the time of the attack. There didn’t appear to be a struggle in the room. It’s as if someone came up from behind him, surprised him, and slit his throat before he knew what happened.”

  Danielle cringed. “That’s gruesome.”

  “The sight this morning was gruesome.”

  “True.” Danielle set her cup back on its saucer and pondered the possibilities. “That would mean whoever killed Morris, was probably someone he knew. Someone he was talking with in the parlor. If the killer took the fishing knife out of Chris’ tackle box on the back porch, then that would have to indicate this was premeditated. According to Chris, that knife has been missing a few days, before Arlene and David even arrived.”

  “I still think you need to tell the chief,” Walt told her.

  “I suppose you’re right.” Danielle glanced up to the ceiling. “I certainly hope our current guests had nothing to do with Morris’ murder.”

  Walt stood up. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll do a little eavesdropping.”

  “I assume you mean on David and Arlene.”

  “Yes.”

  “While I generally don’t condone listening into our guests’ private conversations, I suppose this is one of those times I have to make an exception.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Walt disappeared.

  Now alone in the kitchen, Danielle put her feet up on the empty chair across from her at the table. About to finish the rest of her tea, she noticed the space behind the chair she currently used as a footstool darken, as if someone had turned off the kitchen light illuminating just that space. Hastily removing her feet from the chair, she sat up straight, pushed the teacup aside, and stared at the darkening spot. Her eyes widened as it darkened a few shades more, before it brightened again, as if someone were fiddling with a dimmer switch. In the next moment an apparition appeared. It was Lucas. He stood just five feet from her.

  “Oh my god,” Danielle murmured. Stumbling to her feet, she stood up, her gaze locked with his.

  “It’s really you, isn’t it?” Lucas asked in awe.

  “I believe that’s my line. What are you doing here?” Danielle stood behind the chair she had moments earlier been sitting on, gripping its back.

  “I never truly believed you. You can really see people like me, can’t you?”

  “People like you? You really aren’t a person anymore, Lucas. I asked you, what are you doing here?”

  “I don’t remember you being cruel, Danielle. I know I have a lot to explain, but I thought at least a part of you would be happy to see me.”

  “You’ve been gone for almost fourteen months now, Lucas. I would have expected to see you months ago, not now. Where have you been?”

  “So that’s it?” Lucas smiled. “You’re upset I didn’t come sooner.”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s just that if you were to show yourself to me, I expected it to happen months ago—maybe at your funeral.”

  Lucas shook his head. “I missed my funeral. Were many people there?”

  “Yes,” Danielle said without emotion.

  “My mother, how is she? This must have devastated her.”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “She adored you,” Lucas told her. “I hope you’ve kept in contact; I know that would mean so much to her.”

  “Honestly, I haven’t seen or talked to your mother in months. We really have nothing to talk about.”

  “I need to explain things,” Lucas said.

  “Explain where you’ve been. This is confusing to me.”

  “I thought you told me you’ve been seeing spirits all your life.”

  “I have. But not after they’ve moved on. I assumed you had moved on.”

  “Moved on? Ahh…yes…Meghan explained that to me.”

  “Who’s Meghan?”

  “She’s like you, I suppose. She found me. I had been wandering around in a building since it happened—since the accident.”

  “What building?” Danielle frowned.

  “Just a commercial building not far from where I had the accident. I went in there, looking for someone to help me. But no one could see or hear me. No one, until Meghan found me. Helped me.”

  “I don’t understand how you found me.”

  “Meghan helped me track you down. She used the Internet. Told me you were using your maiden name. That hurt, Danielle. To think you didn’t keep my name.”

  “You hurt me, Lucas.”

  “I’m sorry about that. But I can explain.”

  In the next moment, Chris barged into the kitchen. “Danielle, I was wondering…” He froze when he spied Lucas standing by the table with Danielle.

  Lucas turned toward Chris and looked at him. In the next moment, he vanished.

  “I appreciate you coming in, Joanne,” Joe Morelli told Joanne Johnson as he brought her into his office.

  “Danielle called me this morning, told me not to come in for work—explained what had happened. I still can’t believe it.” Joanne shook her head.

  “It does seem Marlow House is cursed.”

  “I’ll admit, it has had more than its share of trouble.”

  “I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “Certainly, Joe.”

  “Have you ever seen Peter Morris at Marlow House?”

  Joanne considered the question a moment and then said, “The only time I can recall, was at Danielle’s Christmas Eve party. She wasn’t thrilled he showed up, but I believe one of her guests—Richard Winston—invited him. Of course, we all know how that turned out.”

  “What do you mean? How that turned out?”

  “Mr. Morris’ right hand man tried to murder Mr. Winston just days later. Danielle believes Mr. Morris was behind the assassination attempt, but of course nothing could be proved, not with Cleve Monchique’s handwritten confession.”

  “What do you think of Chris Johnson?”

  “Chris? He’s a likable young man. But, I haven’t spent that much time with him.”

  “Danielle told me Chris keeps his tackle box on the back porch. Have you seen it?”

  “Of course. My duties include cleaning the back porch. I wasn’t particularly happy when he put it out there. Each time I sweep, I have to move it. But Danielle set it on a bench under the overhang, because of all the rain. Why are you asking about the tackle box?”

  “It’s my understanding Danielle gave Chris a fishing knife, that he used to keep it in his tackle box.”

  Joanne smiled. “That’s normally where one keeps fishing knives.”

  “Are you familiar with the knife Danielle gave him?”

  She shook her head. “I had no idea Danielle had given him a fishing knife.”

  “According to Chris, he kept the knife in the tackle box on the back porch, but the last time he looked in the box, the knife was missing. Have you ever seen anyone other than Chris get into that tackle box?”

  “No…but…” Joanne frowned.

  “Is there something you remember?” Joe asked.

  “Are you trying to figure out where the fishing knife is?”

  “Actually, we have the knife. We’re just trying to determine who removed it from the tackle box.”

  Joanne smiled weakly. “Well…I guess that would be me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kelly Bartley sat alone in the Frederickport Police Department’s interrogation room. She had been waiting for over fifteen minutes to be interviewed. Glancing to the mirror on the far wall, she remembered what Danielle had once told her. It was a two-way mirror. She wondered if someone was watching her. Shifting nervously in the chair, she regretted not stopping first at Ian’s house and picking up her brother. Instead, she had driven directly from Astoria to the police station.

  She was considering standing up and pacing the
room to burn off nervous energy when the door opened, and Joe Morelli walked in.

  “Hi, Joe. I was wondering if you’d forgotten about me.” She smiled.

  “Kelly, we appreciate you coming in.” Joe sat down across from her.

  “Ian called me earlier today, told me what happened to Mr. Morris. He asked me to call the station and talk to Brian Henderson, let him know I’d left Ian’s house around the time you think Mr. Morris was murdered. I did try calling, but they told me Officer Henderson had left for the day.”

  “Did you leave a message? Ask to talk to someone else?”

  Kelly shrugged. “No. I just figured that since I really didn’t see anything, it wasn’t urgent. I was going to try calling again in the morning.”

  Resting his right hand atop the closed manila folder, Joe looked across the table at Kelly. “Why don’t you tell me about last night. From when you left your brother’s house and got into your car to leave.”

  “There really isn’t much to say. I’d been helping him do some Internet research on his current project.”

  “The piece on Earthbound Spirits and Peter Morris?”

  She nodded. “Yes. After Cleve Monchique’s attempt on Mr. Winston’s life, and then when nothing happened to Earthbound Spirits after Monchique’s suicide, my brother decided to research the group, write an exposé.”

  “So what time did you leave your brother’s house?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I remember looking at the clock around 11:30 and saying we needed to wrap it up. I was planning to stay with a friend for the weekend in Astoria. So we finished up, I tossed my stuff in a suitcase, and left.”

  “Do you have any idea what time that was?”

  “I didn’t really pay any attention to the clock after that. But it was probably thirty minutes, or maybe an hour or more, later by the time I left.”

  “That’s rather a big difference—thirty minutes opposed to over an hour.”

  She shrugged again. “I sometimes lose track of time. Ask my brother. I get doing stuff, tell him I’ll be ten minutes, and then when I finally show up it’s maybe an hour later. I’m sorry. If I’d known the exact time would be important, I would’ve paid more attention to the clock.”

  “When you left, did your brother walk you to your car?”

  “No. He was in the shower when I left. I’d already said goodbye to him.”

  “So, when you went outside, did you go directly to your car?”

  Kelly frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe you took Sadie out? Walked around the yard, looked over to Marlow House? Maybe you saw some cars on the street?”

  “I honestly didn’t pay that much attention. I just got into my car and left. I didn’t notice any strange cars parked on the street.”

  “Kelly, did you bring a coat with you?”

  “Coat? Well sure, it’s been cold.”

  “Does your coat have a…hood?”

  Instead of answering immediately, Kelly stared at Joe. Finally, she said, “Sure. It’s a rain coat.”

  “And did you have that coat on last night, when you left your brother’s house to go home?”

  Kelly shifted nervously in the chair. “What’s this about, Joe?”

  “I think you need to tell me what really happened between the time you stepped out of your brother’s house and got into your car last night. Although technically, it was early this morning.”

  Looking down at the table, she closed her eyes. “That person, the one who almost hit me…”

  “Kelly Bartley, did you kill Peter Morris?”

  Kelly’s eyes flew open, and her head snapped up. She looked into Joe’s dark eyes. “Is that what you’re thinking? Good lord, Joe! Of course I didn’t kill him!”

  “Then I think you need to tell me what exactly happened last night.”

  Kelly let out a deep sigh before proceeding. “Last night, while I was putting my suitcase and things into my car, I looked across the street and noticed a light on in the parlor of Marlow House. I had intended to stop and say hi to Danielle while I was here, but I never got around to it. So I decided to run over real quick, see if she was the one in the parlor; so I could surprise her and say hi. I knew it was late…but it sounded…well, like a good idea at the time.”

  “What happened?”

  “By the time I got over there, someone had turned off one of the lights in the parlor.”

  “What do you mean one of the lights?”

  “When I first looked over, the parlor window was lit up—like the overhead light was on. But when I got across the street, it looked pretty dark downstairs, but there was still some light coming from the parlor. I looked in the window. There was a nightlight on.”

  “Was anyone in the room?”

  “I saw what looked like a silhouette of a man. I figured it was probably one of Danielle’s guests, and I started feeling like a peeping Tom, so I ran back across the street. When I did, I almost got hit by a car. I was so frazzled and embarrassed from peeking into Marlow House’s window, I didn’t see the car coming. It stopped, I ran to my car, got in, and left.”

  “Did you see any other cars parked on the street?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I really was not paying attention.”

  “Have you ever met Peter Morris?”

  “No. I’ve never met him.”

  “Are you sure? Not even at Danielle’s Christmas Eve party? You were both there, I remember.”

  Kelly shook her head “No. I didn’t want to meet him.”

  “Why was that?” Joe asked.

  “Because…” Kelly took a deep breath. “Peter Morris arrived at the party around the same time I was walking across the street from Ian’s. I was on my way over to the party when I saw him drive up. I recognized him. I didn’t want him to spoil Christmas Eve, so I waited until he went into the house, and then I went over and avoided him, making sure I stayed away from the man.”

  “That’s quite a reaction for a person you’ve never met.”

  “I didn’t have to meet the man personally to know what a piece of garbage he was. I suppose I should say I’m sorry he’s dead, but I’m not. I hope he went straight to hell, where he belongs.”

  Joe studied Kelly, surprised by her outburst.

  “Kelly, I think you need to tell me why you had such a strong dislike for Peter Morris.”

  Tears filled Kelly’s eyes. Biting her lower lip, in an attempt to stem the flow of tears she shook her head. “It will all be in my brother’s article. You can read about it there.”

  Setting his elbows on the table, he leaned forward, his voice low. “No Kelly, I need you to tell me, now. Why did you have such a personal dislike of Peter Morris, so much so, that you didn’t want to run into him at Danielle’s party?”

  Wiping away her unshed tears, Kelly took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. “Peter Morris killed my best friend.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, he didn’t pull the trigger exactly. But he might as well have.”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Joe suggested.

  “Candice and I went to high school together. During college, we were roommates. She was a sweet girl, but she had some emotional issues. After a particularly painful breakup with a boyfriend, she started looking for answers.”

  “Looking for answers?”

  “A lot of people do it. Life starts to throw nothing but hardballs, and you figure religion will give some meaning to it all. She started searching for answers—like why did her boyfriend leave her? Why was her mother such a looney tune? Why did her grandmother have to die? Unfortunately, she went to Earthbound Spirits for the answers.”

  “How did your friend die?”

  “She overdosed. It was intentional. She left a farewell note. An odd handwritten suicide note.”

  “What do you mean odd?” Joe asked.

  “Odd. It said something like, Don’t cry for me, it was my idea to do this, no one else’s. Goodbye.”
<
br />   “What was Peter Morris’ part in this?”

  “I knew she had gotten involved with some church. That’s what she called it. I assumed it was a Christian church. I had no idea at the time it was Earthbound Spirits. I wasn’t really concerned when she first got involved with them, because she seemed content—at peace. Which was saying something for Candice.”

  “What happened?”

  “A day before she killed herself, we got a little drunk. I had no idea at the time it was her going away party to herself. We were both pretty wasted when she started giggling and told me she was going to miss me, but that we’d see each other someday. I asked her what she was talking about. She told me her spiritual advisor had told her it was time for her to move on—time to leave this world. I asked her what she meant, but she just started giggling again. I figured she was just wasted.”

  “Did she say who her spiritual advisor was?”

  “No. But the next day I slept in. And when I woke up, I went to check on Candice. She was dead. I found the note.”

  “When did you find out she’d been involved with Earthbound Spirits?”

  “I just found out before Christmas. It’d been years since her death. I thought she just had some sort of mental breakdown. Like I said, she always had some issues. But in November, I ran into her sister, Baily. I hadn’t seen her since Candice’s funeral. We went out to lunch, started talking about Candice…and it all came out.”

  Joe quietly listened to what Kelly had to say.

  “Candice came from a very wealthy family. I always thought her mom was sort of nuts, and her father was too busy making money to notice what was going on around him. Mrs. Bradford—Candice’s mother—was one of those people who obsessed over what the world thought of her—of her family. After Candice died, the money she had inherited from her grandmother was left to Earthbound Spirits.”

  “So, Candice had her own money?”

  “Yeah. Candice was always close to her grandmother. When the woman died she left a couple million to each of her granddaughters, Candice and Baily.”

  “Did her parents contest the will?”

  “I suppose they could have, even though Candice was of legal age to leave her money to whomever she wanted to. But a couple million was not that big of a deal to the Bradfords. What was a big deal was letting the world know their daughter had gotten tied up with that crazy group. It was bad enough their daughter committed suicide. They did all they could to keep the entire thing a secret, even signing an agreement with Earthbound Spirits to not contest the will, providing the group didn’t publicize the fact that Candice had left them her estate. I’d no idea Candice was that involved with Earthbound Spirits, not until Baily told me in November.”