by Bobbi Holmes
Dropping to her knees at the side of the bed, Danielle remembered the baseball bat Lily had tucked under her bed before she went back to California.
Nothing better than an all-American baseball bat to protect yourself from intruders, Lily had told her.
But I have Walt, Danielle had countered. But where is Walt now? Danielle wondered as she reached under the bed, desperately searching for the bat. Just as she found it, the bedroom door flew open. Peeking over her mattress at the doorway, bat now in hand, Danielle watched as a woman entered the room. Danielle’s eyes went immediately to the woman’s right hand, held high over her head, carrying a wicked knife.
“Where is it?” the woman screeched as she ran into the room waving the knife. She stopped at the bed and looked down—it was empty.
At first, Danielle did not recognize the voice, yet now that the intruder was standing on the other side of the bed, she could see her face. It was Claire Stewart—at least that is what she called herself.
Danielle jumped up, bat in hand, prepared to take a swing. “Don’t you come any closer!” Danielle yelled.
Claire stumbled back, surprised by the outburst. The two women face each other, one clutching a knife the other a vintage wooden baseball bat.
“Just give me my bracelet and I’ll leave!” Claire demanded.
“It’s not here. The police have it. And I suggest you leave, before they arrive.”
“Why would they arrive? You don’t have an alarm system; I’ve been through this entire house,” Claire laughed.
“The bracelet’s not here. Just leave.”
“I don’t believe you!” Claire held the knife up higher. “Give it to me, it’s mine!”
“That cop who was here when you first arrived—Joe Morelli—he found it in the teapot and recognized it. It belonged to Isabella Strickland.”
“What do you know about Isabella Strickland?” Claire snarled.
“Don’t you read the paper? It’s been in all the news. She was found dead at the Frederickport Cemetery—she’d been missing. Her funeral was today.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with her death,” Claire shouted.
“I know you didn’t.” Danielle eyed Claire warily, prepared to bring the bat down hard should the woman lunge toward her with the knife. “She died from a brain aneurism.”
Claire looked confused.
“She died of natural causes,” Danielle explained.
Danielle heard it again—squeaking stairs. Claire didn’t seem to notice—either that or she already knew who was on his way up to the second floor.
“Did you bring your husband with you?”
“My husband?” Claire began to laugh. “I don’t need him for what I have to do. But he was right, you know…”
Danielle’s eyes widened when she saw the source of the noise. It was Ian, sneaking up behind Claire. When his gaze met Danielle, he pressed his fingers to his lips. Danielle’s heart raced; she considered lunging forward and clobbering Claire over the head with the bat before she had a chance to stab Ian, but the bed was in the way.
Desperately looking for a way to keep Claire’s attention away from Ian, she decided her only recourse was to keep her talking. “What do you mean he was right?”
“He told us Isabella was with us—that she had died and her spirit was still in her car. He could feel her. Just like he did with Marvin.”
Yes, Marvin. I need to have a few words with him. Where are you Walt, skydiving with Lily?
Before Danielle could think of another question, Ian grabbed Claire’s right wrist from behind. Claire cried out in surprise, trying to pull from his grasp. Ian twisted her arm cruelly, forcing her to release the weapon. It fell to the floor. Danielle charged forward, scooping up the knife, putting it out of Claire’s reach.
“I already called the police,” Ian said as he pushed Claire down on the bed, face first.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When the call came in about a potential break in at Marlow House, Joe and Brian were just leaving Pier Café. They arrived on the scene just minutes after Ian made the initial call. They found the front door open, the foyer dark, but they could hear shouting coming from upstairs. Removing their guns from their holsters, they raced down the hallway and up the stairs. Just as they reached the second floor landing, the light in Danielle’s bedroom turned on.
Bursting into the bedroom, the officers found Ian holding a young woman down on the bed, while Danielle stood next to the doorway.
“Get him off of me!” Claire shouted when she turned her head to the side and saw the police officers standing in the doorway. “He attacked me!”
Holstering his gun, Joe took Claire off Ian’s hands, holding her by the forearm.
“Aren’t you going to arrest him?” Claire demanded as she rubbed her now red wrists.
“Ian, what happened here?” Joe asked.
“I caught this woman breaking into Marlow House; she was holding that knife…” Ian nodded to the knife now sitting on the dresser. “…over her head, like a weapon.”
“That’s a lie!” Claire looked up at Joe who continued to hold her forearm. “Don’t you recognize me? You were here when my husband and I checked in on Friday.”
Joe took a closer look at the alleged burglar. At first, he didn’t recognize her. The woman he met on Friday was well dressed, with her hair neatly styled in a somewhat severe but conservative hairdo. This woman wore tattered jeans, a dirty T-shirt and her hair needed washing. Unlike the woman he had met on Friday, this one wore no makeup. Yet, he was fairly certain she was the same woman.
“Are you saying you’re a guest here?” Brian asked.
“Of course I am!” Claire tried to pull away from Joe, but he continued to hold her arm.
“No she’s not,” Danielle spoke up. “She was a guest over the weekend, but they checked out on Sunday.”
“That’s not true!” Claire insisted. “And that isn’t even my knife. If you check the kitchen here, I bet you find it’s part of a set.”
“If you’re still staying here with your husband, where is he?” Joe asked.
“He went out to get something to eat,” Claire lied.
“Which of the rooms are you staying in?” Brian asked.
“Why are you asking me all these questions?” Claire cried. “He attacked me, you even saw him!”
Joe pushed Claire down in a chair and told her to stay put. He knew Ian had been the one to call the police so he asked him to explain what happened that led up to the call.
“I was standing at my window, looking across the street, when I noticed what looked like someone moving around the parlor of Marlow House with a flashlight. The rest of the house was dark. I knew Danielle was home alone. Lily’s parents have been staying with her, but they went to Portland for the night to do some shopping.”
“So as far as you knew, this woman wasn’t a guest here?” Brian asked.
“I know she wasn’t,” Ian said. “Lily’s parents have been staying here all week. I know they were the only guests.”
“That’s when you called the police, when you saw the flashlight?” Brian asked.
“No. After I noticed a light moving around the parlor, the overhead light went on. I don’t know why, but I just assumed it was Danielle. But then I saw the woman through the window, and it clearly wasn’t Danielle. She had this massive knife in her hand, holding it over her head like she was getting ready to slash someone.”
“That’s not true! She threatened me with a baseball bat! See, it’s over there!” Claire pointed to the wooden baseball bat sitting in the corner of the room. She started to stand up. Joe placed his hand on her shoulder and told her to sit back down. He told Ian to continue.
“Then the light went out again and I could tell she was moving through the house with the flashlight. I immediately called the police and headed over here. Danielle gave me a key this morning. She’s been watching Sadie. I used it to get into the house. When I got upstairs, the
woman was standing at the bedroom doorway threatening Danielle with the knife. I grabbed her wrist, and the knife dropped to the floor. You arrived a few minutes later.”
Joe looked at Danielle and said, “Tell me what happened before Ian arrived.”
“I’d gone to bed but hadn’t fallen asleep yet. I heard someone coming up the stairs. I started looking for something to protect myself with—then I remember the bat Lily put under my bed. Just as I grabbed it, the door opened and Claire came into the room. I didn’t know who it was at first; I couldn’t see her face. But then she came closer and demanded I give her the bracelet back.”
“Bracelet?” Joe frowned, looking from Danielle to Claire.
“She’s the one who put the sapphire bracelet in the teapot,” Danielle explained.
“That’s not true!” Claire shouted. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“She calls herself Claire Stewart, but I don’t think that’s her name. And I also think she’s the one who took Sadie and tried to sell her to that Borge jerk,” Danielle said.
“She’s lying! I had nothing to do with that stupid dog getting out.”
“You say she’s lying, let’s have a look at your ID. That should help clear up the part about your name,” Brian said.
“I don’t have my purse with me. I left it in our car,” Claire grumbled.
“In the car with your husband, the one who left you here to get something to eat?” Brian asked.
“Yes,” Claire said, sounding like a petulant child.
* * *
They left Danielle in the house to get dressed, while they took Claire outside to take downtown. She didn’t go silently, insisting all the way that she was the victim, and she intended to sue them all. After they locked her in the back seat of the patrol car, Joe stood with Brian and Ian on the sidewalk.
“Danielle Boatman is a magnet for trouble,” Brian said, shaking his head in disgust.
“This is hardly Danielle’s fault,” Ian argued. “That woman broke into her house.”
“She wouldn’t have gotten in had Boatman not been so careless with her keys,” Brian countered. Just before taking Claire downstairs, they found the keys to Marlow House in Claire’s pocket.
“I’d like to know how she got here,” Joe said.
“Maybe her husband dropped her off and is driving around and intends to pick her up,” Brian suggested.
“Or maybe she drove herself,” Ian said, looking down the street. He pointed to the truck and camper two doors down. “That wasn’t there earlier today, but it was parked there when I got home tonight. The people who live at that house are gone for the week. I’ve never seen that truck in this neighborhood before.”
“I’ll go check it out,” Brian said.
* * *
“Why are you dressed? Where are you going this late?” Walt asked when Danielle stepped into the hallway from her bedroom.
“Where have you been?” Danielle said angrily. “Oh never mind, I know, skydiving with Lily.”
“Danielle, what’s going on?”
“I’m on my way to the police station, if you must know. My favorite law duo is waiting outside—Joe and Brian.”
“What are they accusing you of now?” Walt asked angrily.
“It’s not me this time, although if I know Brian, by the time we get to the police station he’ll turn this around to make it my fault.”
“What happened?”
“Claire Stewart or whatever her real name is broke into the house tonight. I guess she’s the one who put Isabella’s bracelet in the teapot—and she wanted it back.”
“I’m sorry Danielle, I should have been here.”
Danielle took a deep breath and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Walt. You’re not my watchdog. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. None of this is your fault.”
“I should have been here for you. I knew you’d be alone.”
“No,” Danielle shook her head again. “I’m just a little rattled. I’m glad you have a way to visit Lily.”
“Tell me what happened tonight.”
“I heard someone coming up the stairs. It was Claire wielding one of my larger kitchen knives, demanding I give back the bracelet. Fortunately, Ian noticed something from across the street; he called the cops and then came over here. Scared the crap outa me. He took the knife away from her, and all I could think of, if he gets hurt Lily is going to kill me!”
“But Ian’s okay?”
“Yes. He’s waiting outside to take me to the police station. I swear if I never see the inside of that police station again, it will be too soon!” Danielle started to head downstairs when she heard the front door open and Ian call out her name.
She hurried down the stairs. “Coming!”
“Go put your jammies back on,” Ian said when they met in the middle of the foyer.
“Why?” Danielle asked.
“You don’t need to go down to the station tonight. They said you can come down in the morning. They found the car she was driving. Her purse was inside, with her ID. You were right; she isn’t Claire Stewart. She is Claire Manning, and she has a record and an outstanding warrant.”
“So what’s her husband’s real name, do they know?”
“She’s not married. Looks like she came by herself. Claims the truck she drove over belongs to her step-father.”
“When I asked her if her husband was with her, she said she didn’t need him here. Since she was holding the knife at the time, I figure she didn’t have a reason to lie.”
“I know you’ve had a scare tonight; if you want me to sleep over I’ll be happy to.”
Danielle glanced over at Walt who stood silently by Ian’s side.
“I think I’m okay now,” Danielle smiled. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
When Danielle arrived at the police station the following morning Joe was standing near the front desk. He immediately walked to her, reached out and gently touched her elbow, guiding her to a private area of the office.
“You’re putting in some long hours,” Danielle greeted as Joe led her to the corner.
“I’ve been worried about you,” Joe began. “You had quite a scare last night. Were you able to sleep?”
“I slept fine.”
“Do you still think the bed and breakfast is really such a terrific idea?” Joe asked.
“What’s this about, last night’s break in?”
“I’ve mentioned this before. There is no reason for you to put yourself in these situations. You’ve had nothing but trouble since you decided to open a bed and breakfast. And now with your inheritance, there’s really no reason for you to do it.”
“Just because I had one bad experience with guests doesn’t mean I should quit my dream.”
“It’s not safe. I hate to say this, but you don’t seem capable of making good choices.”
“What are you talking about?” Danielle frowned.
“Breaking and entering, defiling a grave…”
“And if I wouldn’t have done those things, we wouldn’t have found Lily.”
“But you didn’t really know that at the time,” Joe argued.
“I didn’t come here to discuss my business plans.”
“Just think about what I’m saying. I’m not trying to be heavy handed, Danielle. But I worry about you, and I’m afraid one of these days you’re going to do something that will land you in serious trouble, and I won’t be able to help you.”
“I think that would make your partner incredibly happy.”
“Brian doesn’t understand you.”
“And you do?” Danielle asked.
“I don’t believe you’re manipulative or malicious.”
“And Brian thinks I’m those things?”
“Like I said, he doesn’t understand. If you would just let people help you…”
“What kind of help are you talking about?”
“It wouldn’t hurt if you cou
ld talk to a councilor. Help you better understand how you allow yourself to get in these situations.”
“Are you saying the break in last night was really my fault?”
“Not exactly. But Brian has a point. Had you not made certain choices, you wouldn’t have been in that situation.”
“Excuse me Joe,” the receptionist interrupted their conversation. “The chief asked if Ms. Boatman was here yet. He wants her to go to his office.”
“The chief? I thought this would be Joe and Brian’s case, since they made the arrest.” Danielle dreaded the thought of facing the chief after yesterday’s embarrassing encounter at the funeral. I’m sure the entire Frederickport Police Department thinks I am a psycho nutcase.
When Danielle walked into the chief’s private office a few minutes later, she found him sitting at his desk reviewing some papers. He glanced up, motioned for her to shut the office door and then gathered up the papers on his desk and set them aside.
“Good morning Chief,” Danielle said with a weak smile.
“Sounds like you had quite the night last night.”
“Just a regular day in the life of Danielle Boatman,” she quipped with forced humor.
“When I was little, I used to call my grandma Gamma Kat. I hadn’t thought about that in years.”
Surprised, Danielle’s eyes widened. While she had expected him to say something about their encounter the day before, she hadn’t expected that. She sat speechless, uncertain how to respond.
“After my grandfather died, Grandma would go several times a week to tidy his gravesite, as she called it. When I asked her why she felt she had to do it, she said the cemetery wasn’t taking care of the place like they used to. One day, I told her I’d call the cemetery’s maintenance department and shake things up a bit for her—so she wouldn’t have to keep doing their job. But she begged me not to and finally told me the real reason she came down so often.”
Silently, Danielle listened, her hands folded neatly on her lap.