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The Ghost Who Wasn't (Haunting Danielle Book 3)

Page 16

by Bobbi Holmes


  “Harness my energy?” Isabella frowned.

  “Some spirits—not all—learn to harness their energy—which enables them to move objects. I don’t think Angela can do it. At least she said she couldn’t.”

  “I couldn’t do it before tonight. When I picked up the rock to hit the man, I forgot I hadn’t been able to pick anything up since…well since I died. But, it worked. I can try opening the crypt by myself.”

  “Umm…you know… I could head on home and call the police with that tip while you open the crypt,” Danielle suggested with a hopeful smile.

  “Please don’t leave me alone,” Isabella pleaded. “I’m not sure I can do this myself. I know I picked up the rock, but it doesn’t mean I can move anything again.”

  Danielle took a deep breath and gave Isabella a nod. “Okay, I’ll stay and help you. If you hadn’t helped me, I would have lost Sadie and possibly my life. It’s the least I can do.”

  Danielle walked Sadie a short distance from the crypt and told her to sit. Obediently, Sadie sat. “I want you to stay right there Sadie,” Danielle told the golden retriever. Sadie let out a whimper and lay down. She rested her chin on her front paws as she watched Danielle.

  Isabella’s first attempt at opening the crypt wasn’t as successful as her rock hurling. The stone door opened several inches before Isabella went flying into the crypt, landing her inside. To Danielle it looked as if Isabella had just disappeared.

  “Isabella, where did you go?” Danielle asked, looking around the crypt.

  “It’s so creepy in there!” Isabella said with a shudder as she stepped out from inside the stone structure.

  “You moved it a little bit,” Danielle observed. “Here, let me give it a try.”

  Using her shoulder, Danielle gave the stone door a firm push, as she planted her feet against one of the stone pillars. It refused to budge. After a few more unsuccessful attempts, she took a rest, trying to catch her breath.

  “Here, let me try again, by myself,” Isabella suggested.

  Danielle stood back and watched as Isabella laid her palms flat against the stone door and deliberately pushed it to one side. You really don’t need to push it with your hands; your hands are only an illusion, Danielle thought. But if it helps you move it…

  Miraculously, the door began to open, revealing the crypt’s interior. When the opening was about three feet wide, Isabella stopped pushing and stepped back by Danielle.

  The sun was beginning to set, sending a shaft of late afternoon sunlight cutting through the trees and into the crypt, illuminating its interior. Danielle watched as Isabella entered the stone mausoleum. Silently, Isabella harnessed her energy, using it to move her body, which had been pushed into a far corner. She moved it closer to the now open doorway and with it, the scent of decaying flesh.

  The silence of the cemetery was deafening. In the distance, Danielle could hear the faint sound of breakers crashing on the beach. A wave of déjà vu washed over her—bringing back the memory of finding Cheryl’s body at the beach shack. Since she was a child, Danielle had become accustomed to encountering wayward spirits, those ghostly creatures who’d reached out to her as they stumbled through the darkness searching for the light. She’d accepted the spirits that only she could see—it was natural to her now. What was not natural or easy for her was encountering the evidence of their death—decaying bodies and rotting flesh.

  A second wave hit Danielle, this one of nausea. She stepped back from the crypt, closing her eyes for a moment. The silence was broken when Sadie let out a bark. Danielle looked to Sadie, who was now standing at attention, barking at something behind Danielle.

  “Danielle what are you….what the hell?” It was Joe Morelli. He stood at the now open crypt, a flashlight in his hand. The beam of his flashlight hit the bare foot of Isabella Strickland’s lifeless body.

  “Joe…” Danielle groaned. Just how am I going to explain this?

  “Who are you here with?” Joe demanded.

  “Just Sadie…”

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I want you to sit down by Sadie, and don’t move!” he said angrily.

  Silently, Danielle sat next to Sadie and watched as Joe investigated the body at the crypt’s doorway. Getting on the phone, he called for reinforcements, while shining the flashlight into the now opened tomb.

  When he got off the phone, he turned to Danielle. “I was worried about you. I drove by Marlow House on my way home and noticed your car wasn’t there yet. I was afraid you might have had car trouble, so I swung back over here and found your car parked where we left you. I tried calling your phone. But it seems you left it in your car. I heard it ringing.”

  “So, you found me,” Danielle smiled weakly.

  “Do you know who it is?” Joe asked, pointing his flashlight toward the body.

  Before answering, Danielle glanced around. Isabella was nowhere to be seen.

  “No,” Danielle lied. She couldn’t tell Joe the truth. As far as Joe knew, she had never met Isabella Strickland, which had been the truth, until today.

  “How did this get opened?” Joe asked.

  “I think the more important question is, who put the body in there?” Danielle said.

  “I went through this way earlier this evening. I would have noticed had it been open.”

  “I opened it.” Danielle remembered her hands had been all over the door while trying to push it open.

  “You opened it? Why?”

  “It was partially open,” Danielle lied. “I was curious.”

  * * *

  Danielle wondered if she was ever going to make it home. This had to be the longest Saturday in her life. She sat with Sadie and watched as several officers from the coroner’s office, moved the body from the crypt. Once again, she felt the wave of déjà vu. Many of the same responders here tonight were on the scene when she had found Cheryl’s body.

  “It’s Isabella Strickland,” Danielle heard one of them say.

  “That’s impossible,” Joe said. “I just saw her today.”

  “Does this necklace look familiar?” one of them said.

  Danielle heard Joe say, “That’s Isabella’s necklace. I recognize it from the picture Susan Mitchell showed us. Isabella had it custom made before she disappeared. Does she have a bracelet on?”

  “No,” someone said.

  “It had a matching bracelet,” Joe said.

  “This is Isabella, I’d know that tattoo anywhere,” someone said.

  “I don’t understand,” Joe mumbled.

  Silently, Danielle listened to the scene unfold. Sitting next to Sadie, she rested her chin on denim clad knees as she wrapped her arms around her bent limbs and closed her eyes. It was the sound of boots crushing gravel that alerted her to someone approaching. She opened her eyes and found Joe staring down at her.

  “If this is Isabella Strickland, then who was that I saw this afternoon?” Joe asked.

  “Lily. Are you going to get her now?” Danielle asked in a weary voice.

  “Do you know whose crypt this is?” Joe asked.

  “According to the inscription, Walt Marlow’s grandparents and parents.”

  “You knew Isabella was in there, didn’t you?”

  “How in the world would I know that, Joe?” Danielle asked.

  “I don’t know. But you knew. Who put her there, Danielle?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never met Isabella Strickland in my life.” Okay, so that is not entirely accurate, Danielle told herself.

  Danielle heard another set of footsteps approach. She looked up to see the chief.

  “Joe, we’re going over to the Gusarov Estate,” the chief announced. “I want you to go with us.”

  “I want to go too,” Danielle said, jumping to her feet.

  The chief turned to Danielle, his expression unfriendly. “You go home Ms. Boatman. You’ve caused enough trouble today. Just make sure you get to the station in the morni
ng by nine a.m.”

  “No. That’s my best friend they have up there. You can’t expect me to just go home!”

  “What makes you so certain it’s Lily?” the chief asked. “Just because we’ve found Isabella Strickland’s body, doesn’t mean that young woman up at the Gusarov’s is your friend.”

  “I saw her.”

  “Yeah, well Joe thought he saw Isabella too,” the chief grumbled.

  “Let her go, Chief,” Joe said.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Danielle sat alone in her car outside the Gusarov Estate. The chief had agreed to let her come, yet insisted she wait outside in her car. Anxiously, she watched as the chief made his way up the front walk to the Gusarov’s front door, Joe and two uniformed officers by his side. Several squad cars pulled up behind her parked vehicle. In the distance, she could hear the sound of an ambulance siren. The chief had called ahead for medical assistance to meet them at the estate.

  Humming with nervous energy, Danielle’s right hand brushed over her braid. No longer tidy and neat, stray tendrils escaped their restraints. Her head was beginning to throb, which wasn’t surprising considering she’d had very little to eat all day. She’d like to visit the bathroom but told herself she could wait. It was more important to see what was going to happen with Lily.

  The front of the house was dark. After the chief and his entourage reached the front door, the porch light flickered on a few minutes later. Danielle watched as the door opened. She could see Stoddard Gusarov standing in the doorway talking to the chief. Stoddard was animated, his hands waving erratically as if he were desperately trying to make some point. Finally, he moved to one side and the officers filed into the house, leaving the door open.

  A few minutes later, she noticed the light in Lily’s room go on. Through the closed window coverings, she could see the silhouettes of the officers moving around in the room.

  * * *

  “That’s not Isabella,” one of the officers announced when he looked at the woman sleeping in the bed.

  “I don’t understand, we already went through all this this morning,” Stoddard insisted. “Joe identified Isabella, didn’t you Joe?”

  “I knew Isabella,” the officer said, staring down at the woman. “We went to school together. This isn’t her. It looks a little like Isabella, but it isn’t.”

  “You’re wrong!” Stoddard insisted. “You just don’t recognize her because she’s been so sick. She’s lost weight. Surely you recognize her arm—her tattoo!”

  “That’s Isabella! Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you think we know our own niece?” Darlene Gusarov insisted.

  Speechless, Joe stared at the woman in the hospital bed. He hadn’t really looked at her face before, not closely. At the time he’d been so certain Danielle was delusionary, all he needed to do was look at the tattoo. He’d done exactly what Stoddard hoped he would.

  “I’m calling my attorney!” Stoddard announced. “This is outrageous, you barging in like this, demanding to see my niece and then making all these ridiculous accusations. You forget who you are dealing with!”

  “Stoddard, maybe you should call your attorney,” the chief said calmly. “We found Isabella’s body tonight. She’s dead.”

  Stoddard’s face went ashen. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your niece, she’s dead.”

  “You’re wrong. There’s been some mistake,” Stoddard said.

  “We recognized her. But before we came over here, we took her fingerprints. We had Isabella’s on file. The body we found was definitely your niece. But the question now, who is the woman in that bed?”

  “It’s Lily Miller,” Joe said at last.

  “I didn’t know!” Stoddard insisted. “I thought it was my niece. I haven’t seen Isabella for months, and even Joe thought it was Isabella this afternoon! They have the same tattoo! What was I supposed to think? I didn’t hurt her! I made sure she had the best medical care! You should be thanking me!”

  “I don’t believe any of this!” Darlene said. “Isabella’s still alive!”

  “We found Isabella’s body tonight. Someone had put it in the Marlow family crypt at the cemetery,” the chief explained.

  “Are you insinuating someone murdered my niece?” Stoddard asked.

  “The autopsy will give us a better idea. But someone locked her body in the crypt.”

  “None of this makes sense,” Darlene shook her head. “If you say someone put her in the Marlow crypt, how did you find her?”

  “Someone obviously opened the crypt,” the chief said.

  “Then I suggest you find out who opened it and you’ll have the person who murdered our niece! They were probably going to move her body!” Darlene insisted.

  * * *

  Danielle continued to sit in her car. The ambulance had arrived and she watched as the medical team rushed into the house carrying a gurney. Someone was coming down the walkway toward the street. Because of the dim lighting, she wasn’t sure who it was. It wasn’t until he was a few feet from her car did she know it was Joe.

  “You were right. It was Lily,” Joe said when she rolled down the car window. He stood on the sidewalk by her car.

  “Where are they taking her?” Danielle asked.

  “The local hospital.”

  “How does Stoddard Gusarov explain it all?”

  “He’s insisting he thought it was Isabella. Claims the tattoo misled him, like it did me.”

  “He claims the tattoo was there when they found her?” Danielle asked incredulously.

  “Apparently.”

  “That’s bull,” Danielle scoffed.

  “I honestly thought it was Isabella this afternoon.”

  “We often see what we want to see.”

  “I still don’t understand how you knew Lily was here. Or how you found Isabella’s body.”

  “Maybe you need to stop wondering how I happen to know things and start focusing on the real criminals—like whoever put Isabella in that crypt or Stoddard Gusarov, who knew that wasn’t his niece he had locked up in his house.”

  A flurry of commotion behind Joe caught their attention. Turning toward the house, Joe and Danielle watched as the medical team returned with the gurney—now carrying Lily’s unconscious body—made their way to the ambulance.

  “The chief wants to know if you have her family’s phone number,” Joe asked.

  “I suppose it might be better if he call them, instead of me.” Danielle grabbed her phone and searched for the Miller’s phone number. After finding it, she jotted the number down on a piece of paper and handed it to Joe.

  “I suppose you’re going to the hospital?” Joe said.

  “I’ll have to go home first and drop Sadie off.” And tell Lily to get herself to the hospital and reconnect with her body, if possible.

  “We’ll talk later.”

  Danielle responded with a nod and rolled the window back up. As she pulled away from the sidewalk, she picked the cellphone back up and pressed the speed dial for Ian.

  “Hello Danielle,” came Ian’s voice two rings later.

  “Thank god you have your phone back on!” Danielle clutched the cellphone with her left hand as her right hand steered the car.

  “I woke up about five minutes ago. I was getting ready to call you.”

  “We found Lily!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s alive, Ian. She’s in a coma, but she’s alive.”

  “Where is she?”

  Danielle quickly gave Ian the abbreviated version of the day’s events. Ian was so relieved to learn Lily was alive he focused more on questions regarding Lily’s health. Danielle was able to skim over the harder to explain details—yet she knew those questions would eventually be forthcoming.

  “Before you come back, I was wondering if you could find out something,” Danielle asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Stoddard Gusarov insists Lily had the tattoo when they found her at the rest
stop. I don’t believe that. It doesn’t make sense. Can you track down the cops that found her, talk to the medical team that worked on her. See if anyone remembers her having a tattoo. If we can prove he lied, then maybe we can figure out what he was up to.”

  “I sure as hell know Lily didn’t get herself tattooed over Labor Day. But yes, I’ll look into it.”

  When Danielle got off the phone with Ian, she called the private investigator she’d hired.

  “I wanted you to know they found my friend and she’s alive. As it turns out she was the woman they found at the rest stop on Labor Day.”

  “So someone made a false identification?” the investigator asked.

  “It looks that way. The authorities intended to identify Lily’s body through her dental records, which they were hoping they’d have this week. But all that’s moot considering they’ve found Lily alive.”

  “So what do you need me to do?”

  “I’d like to find out who died in Lily’s car. I suspect she might be one of the people who attacked her at the rest stop and took her car.”

  “I’ll see what they’re doing about it and get back with you.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Danielle got off the phone she briefly considered stopping by the cemetery and talking to Isabella again. She pushed that thought aside. Danielle was anxious to get back to Marlow House and update Walt and Lily on the evening’s events. She could talk to Isabella tomorrow—in the daylight. Hopefully, Isabella would still be around.

  Marlow House was pitch-dark when she pulled up into the drive. There didn’t appear to be a single light on. Parking the car by the side of the house, Danielle entered through the kitchen doorway with Sadie.

  When she turned on the light, she found Walt and Lily sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for her.

  “I thought you’d never get home!” Walt said as he stood up. He shifted his attention to Sadie. “I was so worried about you, girl!”

  Sitting by Danielle’s side, Sadie turned her head from Walt and closed her eyes. A low growl rattled from her throat. Walt stopped in his tracks.

  “It’s okay girl, you’re home,” Walt said gently.

 

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