by Bobbi Holmes
“They’re burying me by my mother. She and I weren’t close. Truth be told, I barely knew her. I wonder if I will see her when I move on.”
Suddenly Isabella noticed Adam sitting up with his grandmother. “Oh, there’s Adam!” Isabella sat up straighter and began to wave, calling, “Adam, hey it’s—” Realizing her blunder, Isabella let out a sigh and sat back in her seat. “Well that was stupid. I keep forgetting they can’t see me or hear me.”
Isabella continued to watch Adam. “I dated Adam for about a year. My uncle loathed him. I believe the feeling was mutual. Uncle Stoddard was convinced Adam was only with me for my money. What he didn’t know, if Adam wanted me for my money he certainly wasn’t prepared to marry for it. That’s why we broke up. I swear, if that boy so much as heard wedding bells he broke out into hives.” Isabella let out a long sigh and added, “But he could sure be a lot of fun.”
The chapel grew quiet as the minister approached the pulpit and faced the mourners. After welcoming the group to celebrate the life of Isabella Gusarov Strickland, he started to tell her story. Overhead a slide show presentation began to play, showing still shots of Isabella, beginning when she was just a small child.
“I don’t know why they’re having him do my eulogy,” Isabella said as the minister continued to talk. “I think he’s Uncle Stoddard’s minister, but I never went to that church. I wonder what the minister thinks about what Uncle Stoddard did. I would assume the entire town knows. Things like that get around fast in Frederickport. I was there when they arrested him.”
Danielle glanced over to Isabella, curious to hear what she had to say.
“Poor Uncle Stoddard, did it all for nothing. I changed my will months ago. If I would have just told him, instead of putting the new will in his file cabinet at his house, then none of this would have happened.”
Danielle’s eyes widened at the news. Could this mean Earthbound Spirits is not the beneficiary of Isabella’s will?
“I don’t see anyone here from Earthbound Spirits. Back then, when I originally changed my will, I told them I’d be leaving my estate to them. It was just sort of what was expected for members to do. I never gave them a copy of the will—although they repeatedly asked for one. I think that’s what disenchanted me with the group. I suspect they already know I changed my will back, which is why they aren’t here making a show—pretending they care I’m dead. But poor stupid Uncle Stoddard, he doesn’t have a clue.”
Something the minister said caught Isabella’s attention. She stopped talking and started listening to her eulogy. Danielle only half listened, instead, trying to remember all the questions she wanted to ask Isabella when she had her chance—because it appeared it would be her last opportunity.
Opening her purse, Danielle pulled out a pen and a small pad of notepaper. She began jotting down words—bracelet, diamonds, Lily… When Danielle was finished making her list she looked up and found Isabella gone. Looking around the chapel, she didn’t see her anywhere. Tucking her notebook and pen back in her purse, Danielle prayed Isabella would keep her word and meet with her one last time.
After the service Marie—with Adam in tow—caught up with Danielle and insisted the three go together to the gravesite portion of the service. Marie took Danielle’s left arm, while Adam walked along Danielle’s other side.
“You were sure right about Lily,” Adam said as they walked toward the gravesite.
“I’m surprised Stoddard dare show his face today!” Marie snapped. “The man should be in jail!”
“From what I understand, he’s out on bail,” Danielle explained.
“How is poor Lily doing? I’ve wanted to stop by the hospital and see her, but Adam said I should wait.”
“She’s improving every day. I don’t know if you heard, but they had to operate on her leg the night they found her—emergency surgery. She had an infection and it settled there.”
“No! I didn’t hear that. Is she going to be all right?” Marie tightened her hold on Danielle’s arm.
“She’s going to be fine, but she has to have six weeks of IV antibiotics, three times a day. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to stay in the hospital for the treatments. We’re hoping she’ll be released on Monday. She’ll be staying at Marlow House while she recuperates.”
“Doesn’t she have an apartment and job back in California?” Adam asked.
“Well, she did, until everyone thought she was dead. Her parents cleaned out her apartment, and another teacher has taken over her class. Of course, she’s in no shape to go back to teaching right now, anyway.”
“Stoddard needs to pay for what he did to that poor girl!” Marie fumed.
“I never cared for Stoddard, but even I’m surprised he pulled something like this,” Adam said.
When they reached the gravesite with the other mourners, Danielle looked to the right and saw Isabella waiting some distance away, under a grove of trees. The minister said a few more words over the casket, before ending the service.
Mourners milled around, chatting with one and other. Marie and Adam knew most of those attending the service. Handshakes, hugs and introductions moved steadily through the crowd.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Danielle said after Marie introduced her to another couple. Adam had moved to the other side of the crowd, talking to people he knew. “I promised I’d give Lily a call right after the service,” Danielle lied as she held up her cellphone and nodded toward the grouping of trees where she was heading.
By the time Danielle reached Isabella, Marie was already involved in a conversation with the couple she had introduced to Danielle.
Isabella watched the crowd mill around her gravesite. She glanced at Danielle who held a phone by her ear. “I thought you wanted to talk. Who are you calling?”
“No one. But I figured I’d look less strange if people thought I was talking on the phone.”
“Very clever. I just realized, you’re the one who inherited Marlow House. You’re the one who found the Missing Thorndike.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I was going to come to your open house with a friend of mine from the bank, but then I heard Adam was going to be there with—well I guess it was your cousin.”
“You still cared for him?”
“I’ve always been in love with Adam.” Isabella sighed. “Is there something going on between you two?”
“Me and Adam?” Danielle cringed at the thought.
“I noticed you walking with him.”
“No. I’m good friends with his grandmother, that’s all.”
“Marie was always nice to me. I think she wanted Adam to marry me. But if you like him, it’s okay. I mean, I want Adam to be happy.”
“No, seriously. There is nothing between Adam and me.”
“Whatever.” Isabella shrugged. “So, what do you want to ask me?”
“Your bracelet, the one you had custom made. Do you know what happened to it?”
“Do you mean this one?” Isabella put out her wrist for Danielle to see. The bracelet she wore matched the one found in the teapot. Danielle knew it was only an illusion. No more real than Walt’s cigars, despite the smell of smoke.
“Yes.”
“Let’s see.” Isabella considered the question a moment. “The latch kept coming undone. I was afraid I was going to lose it, so I decided to take it to the jeweler to have them fix it. I stuck it in my car’s glove compartment, but then I got that horrid headache so I went home instead and took a nap. I think that’s when…when I died.”
“You never took it out of your glove compartment?”
“No.” Isabella looked down at the bracelet. “But that really doesn’t matter now, I have it again.”
“Do you know anything about diamonds hidden in Marlow House?”
“Diamonds? You don’t mean my story, do you?”
“Story?”
“I’m a writer,” Isabella explained.
“Yes, I heard you liked to write. But what does that have to do with diamo
nds hidden in Marlow House?”
“After you found the Missing Thorndike I came up with a plot for a mystery about a jewel thief. In the story, he doesn’t just steal the Missing Thorndike; he steals valuable diamonds and hides them in his house, which remain there for almost a hundred years, waiting to be discovered. The story is written in first person, from the perspective of a woman who finds his diary at a local thrift store and she uncovers the clues about the missing diamonds. Why are you asking about my story?”
“In your story, you didn’t happen to mention Marlow House by name, did you?”
“Yes, but I intended to change it. I just couldn’t think of what to call it at the time, so I used its real name.”
“Is it possible someone got a hold of your story and thought it was real?”
Isabella considered the question for a moment. As if a light bulb went off, she smiled and said, “I know exactly who did—Hunter.”
“Hunter?” Hank’s other name, according to Walt.
“He stole my car. Him and those two skanks. I didn’t realize at the time that Uncle Stoddard was the one who left it at the beach parking lot—or that I was dead. I was confused and went with them.”
“How did he read your story?” Danielle asked.
“He found my notebook. I’d left it in my car. They didn’t find it until after they cleaned it out, taking what they wanted before abandoning it at that rest stop. After Hank read it, he thought it was true. Stupid man.”
“Who hurt my friend Lily?”
“That was Hunter and Justina. Justina is Hunter’s cousin. Of course, Claire didn’t try to stop them. She was just as guilty. Justina was the one that actually hit her with the rock, when your friend stepped out of the woman’s bathroom. But don’t worry about Justina; she can’t hurt anyone anymore. She didn’t want to fly to Oregon so she talked Hunter into letting her drive your friend’s car back while he and Claire flew.”
“Was she the one killed in my friend’s car?”
“Yes. After the accident, I found her at a nearby gas station. She was trying to get people to help her. Of course, no one could see or hear her. Except for me. I followed her back to the motel Hunter and Claire were staying at. I actually felt a little sorry for her. She was so confused.”
Danielle tried to process all that Isabella was telling her. If she understood correctly, the Stewarts were actually the people who tried to kill Lily. They’d slept in her home. She’d made them breakfast. Danielle felt ill.
“You know what’s funny?” Isabella asked. Danielle couldn’t imagine anything about this being funny. “I think sometimes Hunter could hear me—or at least sense my presence.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Danielle stared at the open page of her novel. Dressed for bed in plaid pajama bottoms and T-shirt, she leaned against the pillows fitted between her and the headboard, blankets covering the lower half of her body.
“I swear, you’ve been staring at that same page for fifteen minutes. I can’t believe you’re that slow of a reader,” Walt said as he appeared by her bedside.
Danielle closed the book and set it on her lap. Scooting to one side of the mattress, she made room for Walt to sit down. He accepted her silent invitation.
“Have you been watching me for that long?” she asked.
“What’s wrong Danielle, you’ve been out of sorts all evening.”
“I keep thinking about what Isabella said today—about Hank or Hunter or whatever his name is, and that horrid Claire. They almost killed Lily, and they are going to get away with it and there is nothing I can do about it! Not to mention what they almost did to Sadie.”
“If what Isabella told you is accurate, it looks like one of them put the bracelet in the teapot—since Isabella claims to have left it in the car they stole.”
“I know, but why? That doesn’t make sense,” Danielle said.
“Maybe we can think of someway to make them pay for what they’ve done,” Walt suggested.
“I don’t know what. The car they were driving was probably stolen, and I don’t even know what their real names are. I should have done more when I figured out what they tried to do with Sadie—while they were still here.”
“Why don’t you let it rest for now, and get some sleep. You’ve had a big day.”
“I suppose you’re right. Nothing I can do about it right now anyway.” Danielle tossed her book onto the nightstand.
“Where did Lily’s parents go? I noticed they took a suitcase.” Walt stood up.
“They went into Portland to do some shopping. They’re going to spend the night. Apparently, Mrs. Miller got rid of all Lily’s clothes when she thought she died.”
“I thought you said Lily’s mother put all her things into storage, that she didn’t have the heart to get rid of her belongings so soon.”
“It seems that didn’t apply to Lily’s clothes, cosmetics, underwear, shoes. The girl has nothing to wear beside hospital gowns. Her mother is buying her a new wardrobe before she comes home from the hospital.”
“You should have gone with her. An outing would be good for you.”
“She asked me if I wanted to go with them, but I’m too exhausted. It will be interesting to see how she decides to dress Lily.”
“I hope she buys her lots of feminine dresses. Maybe she’ll bring you a couple too.”
“Oh hush.” Danielle grabbed her pillow and gave it a punch, reshaping it. “Get out of here and let me sleep.”
* * *
The old truck and camper belonged to Claire’s stepfather. He was the only person willing to loan her a vehicle for the night. She hated driving the truck, yet now realized it was probably the best vehicle for her mission.
Parked two doors down from Marlow House, in front of a residence that appeared to be vacant—if the stack of newspapers on the front porch were any indication—Claire lay on the cab-over bed in the camper and peeked through the curtains, looking up the street. She had been watching for several hours now.
When she first arrived, a sedan was parked in front of Marlow House. Five or ten minutes later, a man and woman got into the car and drove away. The man had been carrying a suitcase, so Claire assumed that whoever they were, they weren’t spending the night at the bed and breakfast. The only car parked in the driveway belonged to Boatman.
Not long after the couple drove off, a man from across the street walked over to Marlow House. He returned home a few minutes later with the golden retriever. Claire remembered Boatman mentioning she was dog sitting and that Sadie belonged to her neighbor. Claire had been trying to figure out how she was going to deal with the dog, yet now she didn’t have to worry about it. Smiling, she had a good feeling about her little reconnaissance mission.
There was just one light on in the house—coming from Boatman’s bedroom. Claire waited and watched. Finally, the light went off, the house was dark. She decided to give it another twenty minutes; hopefully by that time Danielle would be asleep.
Claire closed the curtains and scooted off the bed, dropping down to the camper’s floor. From her pocket, she pulled out a set of keys. She had found them when rummaging through the library at Marlow House. Danielle had labeled the keys, making Claire’s task easier. One key was for the back gate and the other for the door to the kitchen. She wasn’t even going to try the front door key she still had. Claire would bet money that Boatman had already changed that lock.
Claire knew Hunter would eventually ask her about the bracelet. Recently, he had been so distracted by Justina’s disappearance that he seemed to have forgotten about it. But she knew he would eventually ask her. Before he did, she intended to have it back in her possession.
Slipping out of the camper, Claire hastily made her way up the street to Marlow House. It was practically a full moon, enabling Claire to see her way without turning on her flashlight. When she reached the back gate at Marlow House, she glanced around nervously and then quickly unlocked the gate. She opened it just far enough to slip th
rough and then closed it again, hanging the lock back in the latch, to make it appear locked.
With her adrenaline pumping, Claire raced to the kitchen door and nervously unlocked it. Slipping into the house, she gently closed the door behind her and turned on her flashlight. Making her way through the kitchen, she noticed the knife block sitting on the counter. Impulsively, she grabbed the butcher knife from the block and held it firmly in her right hand, while holding the flashlight in her left. She felt safer knowing she could defend herself should Danielle Boatman surprise her.
From the kitchen, she moved into the hallway and made her way to the parlor. She was almost there. All she had to do was grab the bracelet and get back to the truck and camper. Hunter would never have to know how she’d foolishly left the bracelet behind.
Once in the parlor she pointed the ray from her flashlight along the far wall, looking for the shelf with the teapot. She froze—the teapot was not sitting at its normal spot on the shelf. Frantically, she waved the flashlight around the room, searching for the teapot. She couldn’t find it.
Against her better judgment, Claire flipped on the parlor light. She searched the room. The more she looked, the angrier she got.
Turning off the light, she clutched the knife and took a deep breath. Danielle Boatman has my bracelet, and she better give it back!
* * *
Upstairs Danielle tossed restlessly. She hadn’t been able to get to sleep. Instead, she kept thinking of how she let the Stewarts get away. Then she heard it—creaking coming from the staircase. Sitting up in the bed, she clutched the blankets to her and listened. Someone was coming up the stairs and it wasn’t Walt—he never made the stairs creak.
Once, when first arriving at Marlow House, Lily and Danielle had discussed the noisy stairs and how they might be quieted by adding carpet. Lily had laughed and said the stairs would make a good alarm system. Danielle had countered that she would prefer a system that kept the burglars outside.
“Walt?” Danielle whispered, as she scooted out of bed, looking for something to use as a weapon. The moonlight flooded the room, enabling her to see. “Walt!” she repeated, this time a little louder.