by Bobbi Holmes
“There is one thing I can do,” Walt said as he looked over to Pearl and Brian. The other friends looked over too, waiting to see Walt’s intentions. A moment later Brian gave Pearl a parting nod and started to walk back to them while Pearl turned abruptly and angrily headed to her own house. The next moment Pearl’s cloche hat flew off her head; it spiraled in front of her as if leading the way home. She broke into a run, chasing the hat down the street.
“I just hope she doesn’t have a heart attack running like that,” Walt said under his breath. “Or I am going to feel guilty.”
Not long after Pearl started chasing her hat, Connor woke up and began to fuss. Lily announced he needed to be fed, so she and Ian headed back home with their son, telling the others they would meet them over at Marlow House later.
The other neighbors eventually went home, and after partitioning off Chris’s property to keep the curious from poking around and getting hurt, the firemen finally began packing up to leave. By the time Brian drove off, the only ones standing in front of the burnt remains of Chris’s house were Chris, Heather, Walt, Danielle and Hunny.
“While this really sucks, I’m grateful no one was hurt,” Chris said, taking a final look at what had been his house.
“On a positive note, you can now build that dream beach house you always wanted,” Danielle said. “You already have the lot.”
Walt chuckled and wrapped one arm casually around Danielle. “I married Pollyanna.”
“Let’s go back to Marlow House, and I’ll fix us all something to eat,” Danielle suggested. “You too, Heather.”
“That’s what I was doing when I burned my freaking house down, fixing myself something to eat.”
“And then I called…oh no, it was my fault? I am the reason your house burned down! If I hadn’t called, you would never have left that pan on the stove unattended!” Heather moaned.
Chris flashed Heather a smile and gave her a gentle sock to the arm. The mild assault caught her by surprise and she stopped talking. Her eyes wide, she looked at Chris and rubbed her arm even though the slight poke hadn’t hurt. Finally she asked, “What was that for?”
“You did burn my house down,” he teased.
Heather punched Chris’s arm, but not as gently as he had tapped hers. “And you lied to me. You never got that smoke detector fixed, did you?”
Danielle and Walt led the way up their front walk, with Hunny trailing behind, followed by Chris and Heather.
“I am really sorry about calling,” Heather apologized.
“Don’t be silly. This was not your fault,” Chris insisted. “I just wasn’t paying attention, and instead of turning the burner off, I must have turned another one on. And you’re right, I didn’t get the smoke detectors fixed. I forgot.”
“I thought you have a fire extinguisher in your kitchen?” she asked.
“I do. But Hunny was acting so erratic around the fire. I just wanted to get her out of the house, and then I intended to go right back in and put the fire out, but she just wouldn’t leave my side.”
“Poor thing, it probably freaked her out, and then our crazy neighbor started yelling at her,” Heather said as they followed Walt, Danielle and Hunny up to the front porch.
“Fortunately, Hunny didn’t realize she was being yelled at,” Chris said as he stopped a moment, waiting for Danielle to open the front door.
Walt and Danielle entered the house first, followed by Hunny and then Heather and Chris, with Chris shutting the door behind them. Emotionally drained, Chris followed the others toward the kitchen, but right when Danielle passed the open doorway to the downstairs bedroom, she stopped abruptly and let out a scream. She stood looking into the room. Everything that had been in the bedroom closet was now spread out on the floor, while every dresser drawer was pulled open.
“What the…” Danielle stammered.
The others rushed to her side and looked into the bedroom.
“Gee, Danielle, did you fire Joanne?” Chris asked dryly, looking into the ransacked room.
Nine
Marcella sat quietly in the booth as the waitress with the purple hair set the two plates of food on the table.
“Can I get you anything else?” the server asked.
Forrest shook his head. “I don’t need anything. Marcella?”
Marcella looked over the food on her plate and then glanced up at the server. “No, this is fine.”
Just as the waitress left the table, Marcella picked up a French fry and began absently nibbling on one end while going over in her mind all that had happened that day.
“You were in the house forever. I can’t believe you didn’t find it. Could it have been in the car after all?” Forrest asked.
Marcella picked up her burger. “I doubt it. Like I told you, I was only able to go through the rooms on the first floor. It’s a big house!”
“If that neighbor hadn’t come back, you could have looked longer. But she has a clear view into that side yard from her house, and I didn’t think we should risk you staying longer.”
“No, you did the right thing.” Marcella took a bite of her burger.
“What are we going to do now? I’m almost tempted to knock on their door and offer to buy it.”
Marcella looked up from her burger. “Are you nuts? I didn’t exactly leave the place as I found it. Not that I broke anything, but I was trying to get through there as quickly as possible, so I just opened drawers, cabinets, moved things.”
“What really sucks—assume they did take the package upstairs to their bedroom with them when they got home—I doubt they will leave it up there. So if we manage to get in the house again, it’s like starting the search all over—it could be downstairs or upstairs.”
“I’m thinking maybe under the tree,” Marcella said before taking another bite of her burger.
Forrest frowned. “What do you mean?”
“According to Bud, they bought those things as Christmas gifts. And what do people do with Christmas gifts? They wrap them and put them under the tree.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe next time we will be lucky. Maybe the next time I won’t have to look any farther than the Christmas tree in their living room.” Marcella set the partially eaten burger on her plate and picked up her glass of soda and took a sip.
“I’m not sure how we’re going to get back in. I don’t want to break any windows. They’ll obviously know someone was in their house; I don’t imagine they’ll leave the door conveniently unlocked again. And they might even lock that pet door.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Marcella grinned and then stood up partially as she shoved one hand into the pocket of her pants. She pulled out a key, set it on the table, and sat down again.
Forrest frowned at the key. “What is that to?”
“A key to Marlow House. So we don’t have to rely on them leaving a door unlocked, climb through the pet door, or break any windows.”
“Are you sure it’s a key to the house?”
“Yes. I tried it on the front door. And you will be proud of me, because I don’t think they’ll miss it. I found it on a key ring that was shoved in the back of a desk drawer in the front room. There must have been a dozen keys on the ring, and I didn’t want to take the whole thing and chance them noticing it missing and then change the locks. I got lucky, and the second key I tried was the one to the front door. I took it off and then put the key ring back where I found it and shut the drawer.”
“I’m impressed.” Forrest beamed.
“Had I found the key sooner, I would have taken my time and put everything back exactly as it was so they wouldn’t know someone had been there. But before I found the key, I thought it was my one shot to search the house, and I was just trying to blast through the place as fast as possible.”
“So what now, stake out the house, and when they leave go inside and do another search?” Forrest asked.
“That’s about all we can do. But I’m hoping they m
ake it easy to find and put it under the tree.”
Colin Bari stood outside his room at the Seahorse Motel. He watched as the Hoopers’ car drove into the parking lot. They were staying in the room next to his, on the north side. The room on the south side of his was currently empty. But Bari was fairly certain that room would be rented out within the hour. He didn’t think Owen would want to spend another night in his car, and from what Colin knew, the vacant room next to his was the last vacancy in Frederickport.
Of course, there was another option—which would save Colin significant time and effort. For a brief moment yesterday he had imagined it might go that way. But then Owen ended up sleeping in his car, and Colin decided it was time to go to Astoria and retrieve the one thing that might give Owen the necessary nudge. But time was slipping away, and he didn’t want Owen to disappear.
Colin thumbed through the tourist magazine he had picked up in the front office, listing local restaurants and sights of interest. He flipped through its pages, pretending to read it as the Hoopers’ parked their car nearby. He peeked over the magazine and watched as the couple got out of their vehicle and began walking his way.
“Good afternoon,” Colin greeted them when they got closer. He closed the magazine and smiled at the couple. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to recommend a good local restaurant?”
Marcella and Forrest stopped by Colin, and Marcella asked, “Aren’t you cold out here?”
“I enjoy the brisk air,” Colin explained.
“We just ate at the Pier Café and the food was pretty good. It’s right on the pier. We also noticed an ice cream shop next to it,” Forrest told him.
“Thank you. Are you two staying through Christmas?” Colin asked.
Marcella glanced to her husband and back to Colin. “We’re just taking one day at a time. But we’ll probably be here a few more days. Just enjoying a little holiday.”
“How nice,” Colin returned.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Marcella and Forrest excused themselves and went into their room, closing and locking the door behind them.
Now standing alone in front of his room, Colin whispered to himself, “That must mean you didn’t find it. When you do—if you do—I certainly hope you don’t complicate matters for me.”
Rolling up the magazine, he tucked it under one arm and made his way to the front office, his cane in hand.
Dark sunglasses concealed Owen Gardener’s eyes, while his thick dark beard covered much of his face. On his head he wore a baseball cap. It covered his shortly cut hair. A younger Owen had once thought men who wore full beards did so because they were losing their hair, and if they couldn’t grow hair on the top of their head, they would do it on their chin. He had since learned that was not necessarily true. Owen had a healthy head of hair. Until the gray streaks, its color had once matched his beard. While gray had recently been sneaking into his beard, as it had taken over the hair on his head, he had managed to pluck out each gray whisker, but soon—if he didn’t wish to have a thin beard—he would need to shave it off or let it go gray. He was not fond of gray beards. The last thing he wanted was for people to start calling him Santa Claus, especially since he wasn’t even forty yet.
Owen sat alone in his car, trying to decide what to do next. He had pulled into the Seahorse Motel parking lot on impulse, just minutes earlier, and had parked in front of the registration office. By the number of cars in the motel parking lot, he wondered if they even had any vacancies. This entire trip had been spur of the moment, and now that he was in Frederickport, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do—or if he was going to stay. But it had been a long drive, followed by an uncomfortable night sleeping in his car, and now he was exhausted. If he could get a room—at least for tonight—then he could figure out his next move.
With a weary sigh, Owen climbed out of his car, slammed its door shut, and started for the registration office. Right before reaching the building, a tall, thin, bearded, elderly man, who had come from the direction of one of the rooms, reached the office entrance first. The man opened the door wide and motioned with his cane for Owen to enter before him, while saying, “Good afternoon. Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” Owen gave the man a nod and added, “Thank you.” While walking through the open doorway, Owen got a closer look of the older man’s face. There was something familiar about him. Who is he? Owen wondered. The man had a slight accent, yet Owen couldn’t place it.
Once inside, the older man took a seat at a sofa in the waiting area and began reading a magazine. Owen headed for the front counter, relieved to see the young woman at the registration desk was an unfamiliar face.
“How can I help you?” the woman greeted Owen.
“I would like to get a room, please,” Owen told her.
“You are in luck. We have one room left. We’ve been crazy busy. How long are you planning to stay?” she asked.
“Through Christmas.” The moment the words left his mouth, he was momentarily stunned. Where did that come from? he asked himself. Five minutes earlier his intention was to just get a room for the night and then figure out what he wanted to do after getting a good night’s sleep. Perhaps it had been because of what she had said—that it was the last room they had available. While somewhat surprised at his own words, Owen didn’t correct himself.
Colin sat quietly on the sofa, pretending to read. He had heard what Owen said to the woman at the registration desk—through Christmas. He smiled. Things were moving along as planned. His only concern was the Hoopers. They needed to stay out of his way and not muck things up.
Ten
Hunny followed Brian and Danielle as they walked from room to room on the first floor of Marlow House. When Brian walked up the stairs to take a brief look at the second and third floors, Hunny stayed with him, yet Danielle returned to the living room.
“I just remembered—Max. Maybe he saw something,” Heather suggested. Max was Danielle’s cat.
“I already talked to him. He was upstairs in our room, sitting on the windowsill. He didn’t see anyone come into the house. He was watching all the activity down the street. Which is why I’m fairly certain whoever came in, came in through the kitchen door. I already explained to him Hunny would be staying with us.” Walt hadn’t actually talked to the cat—it was more a telepathic communication, a gift that had come to him while in the spirit realm. His ability to converse with some animals—like his telekinetic powers, which he had developed when being a ghost—he had somehow managed to bring with him when he moved back over to the living world.
Danielle, Walt, Heather and Chris sat in the living room of Marlow House, watching as Brian Henderson jotted something down in his notepad. He stood near the sofa, where Walt and Danielle were, across from where Heather and Chris sat on the matching chairs.
“And it doesn’t look like anything was taken?” Brian asked.
“It’s entirely possible something is missing, and we just haven’t noticed,” Danielle said. “In the big scheme of things—” she glanced over to Chris, who had just lost his house “—it is not that big a deal. But we figured we needed to report it.”
“There is no sign of forced entry,” Brian said.
“No. Like I mentioned earlier, they probably came through the kitchen door. I don’t think I locked it when we got home from Astoria,” Danielle told him. “And when we went up to Chris’s, we left through the front door. That door was locked when we got home.”
Brian closed his notepad and glanced briefly up toward the ceiling. “I have to agree with you. I don’t think they made it to the second floor.”
Hunny, who had been sitting by Brian’s side, made a growling sound.
Surprised, Brian looked down at the pit bull. “Did she just growl at me?”
Heather chuckled. “No. That’s Hunny’s way of talking. Freaks some people out. But it’s not a growl.”
“Sounded like a growl,” Brian said, still looking down at the dog
.
Hunny stood up, her butt and tail going into a full wag as she wiggled closer to Brian and pressed her nose against his pant leg. He reached down and she licked his hand.
“She likes you,” Danielle told him.
Brian chuckled and looked back to his notepad to review his notes. “Unless this is some prankster with an odd sense of humor, it looks like they were searching for something and got interrupted. Do you have any idea what that might be?”
Danielle shook her head. “Not really. And the strange thing, there was a twenty-dollar bill and some change in clear view in the parlor, and it wasn’t touched. My iPad is still sitting on the desk in the library, and the credit card I used to pay a bill is still on the kitchen counter by the phone.”
“Most of your neighbors were outside, watching the fire. I’ll talk to them and see if anyone saw anything,” Brian said.
“Aren’t you going to take fingerprints?” Heather asked.
“I could, but considering most of Frederickport came through here less than two months ago for the haunted house, I doubt it would do much good,” Brian explained.
“Joanne is a good housekeeper, but I don’t think she has wiped down every inch of this house since then. I have to agree with Brian, it would be impossible to rule out prints that were here before the break-in,” Walt said.
“I guess we need to go back to being more careful about keeping our doors locked,” Danielle said with a sigh.
Heather frowned. “I’d like to know what they were looking for.”
“Whoever it is obviously didn’t consider you might have security cameras. Everyone has security cameras these days,” Chris said.
“Or they are familiar with Marlow House,” Brian suggested.
“Are you saying someone we know did this?” Danielle asked.
“Not necessarily someone who is a friend. But someone who has been here before.” Brian snapped his pen closed and slipped it in his pocket. He looked from Walt to Danielle. “If you find something that is missing—or you figure out what they were looking for—let me know. But for now, the only thing I can do is talk to your neighbors.”