The Ghost Who Wanted Revenge (Haunting Danielle Book 4) (5 page)

E
arthbound Spirits headquarters
were perched high atop a rocky ridge, overlooking a section of Frederickport’s northern beach. The Hilton family—no relation to the hotel chain—built the house in 1935. The property remained in the family until the passing of Helen Hilton, who died at the age of 98. She bequeathed her entire estate to Earthbound Spirits, much to the displeasure of her four grandchildren.

Even Helen’s great-nieces and nephews took umbrage over the bequest, arguing Helen was only a Hilton by virtue of marriage to her late husband, and the property should remain within the Hilton family.

Had Helen been around to argue her decision, she would remind her unhappy family that since none of them made an effort to visit her during her final years, none of them was entitled to the property. The grandchildren contested the will, but their attorneys were no match for the legal team employed by the secretive and wealthy organization.

Peter Morris, founder of Earthbound Spirits, sat at his desk, examining the two documents just handed to him by his protégé, Cleve Monchique. The two men sat alone in the office, the doors shut.

Morris, who had recently turned sixty, looked more like a man in his late forties. Standing just under six-feet, with a tennis player’s physique, his regular manner of dress reflected what a wealthy and cultured CEO might wear at the golf course. He concealed his gray hair under Nice’n Easy’s Natural Black—though Natural Light Carmel Brown would have been a more flattering shade for his complexion.

“You got both wills…” Peter murmured. “Impressive.”

“It answers the question, did Isabella put Earthbound Spirits in her will as she said—or was she just telling us what we wanted to hear, while trying to annoy her uncle. I much prefer doing it this way, instead of creating our own forgery.”

While comparing the two documents, Peter sighed. “Earthbound Spirits was obviously the beneficiary, if only for a brief time. I was rather hoping Stoddard’s will was a forgery.”

“None of that matters, as long as we have this one!” Cleve said excitedly. “This is the original. We know Stoddard’s is nothing but a photocopy—which we can easily argue was forged.”

“I suppose this is my fault, having to do it this way.” Peter wearily shook his head. “I should have realized I was pushing her too hard.”

“It wasn’t as if you asked more of Isabella than any other member,” Cleve argued.

“But the pressure alienated her from us, and that didn’t have to happen. Had I only known she was telling the truth I could have eased off. Then maybe she would have never changed her will back, leaving everything to her uncle.”

“I disagree. You didn’t do anything wrong. Isabella was always more difficult than the others. Treating her differently would have set a bad example.”

“True, Cleve. But at one time, she was one of the more dedicated members.”

“It really doesn’t matter now. Isabella is gone, we have both wills, and Stoddard is dead.”

“And with him gone, easier for us to cry forgery when we hand over Isabella’s will, leaving us her estate. And considering what Stoddard did to that woman, trying to pass her off as Isabella, shouldn’t be too hard to convince the court this was just another one of his cons.”

“This is going to work.” Cleve smiled with satisfaction. “If Isabella knew what her uncle was capable of doing, she’d thank us for setting this right.”

“I feel better about it now, now that you have both originals. And you’re sure all other copies have been destroyed?” Peter asked.

“Positive.” Cleve sat in a chair facing Peter.

“Clarence won’t be a problem.” Peter set the documents on the desk and looked at Cleve. “But what about that woman who worked for him—Gloria Comings—wasn’t that her name?”

“Yes, but she moved from the area. Considering what we have, there’s no reason for anyone to track her down.”

“All I have left to do is finalize things with Darlene.” Peter leaned across the desk and pushed one of the wills toward Cleve. “Shred it. I don’t want anyone coming across this.”

With a nod, Cleve stood up and took the document. He glanced at it briefly, making sure it was the newer will, the one leaving Isabella’s estate to her uncle. He smiled and then walked over to the paper shredder.

“I’d like you to put it in probate tomorrow.” Peter said. “But wait until you hear from me, and we know everything is set with Darlene.”

“Sure.”

Peter studied the will leaving Isabella’s estate to Earthbound Spirits as Cleve fed the other document through the paper shredder. “There is one thing that’s still bothering me. We all know Stoddard assumed Earthbound Spirits stood to inherit Isabella’s fortune—that’s why he took that woman. I can’t believe he just stumbled across Isabella’s current will in his files. Someone had to have told him where to find it.”

“I suppose we need to be prepared for that possibility—one of Isabella’s friends coming forward with a story about how Isabella told her—or him—that she’d changed her will back and put a copy of the revised document in her uncle’s file cabinet.”

“One way to handle it, we’ll show there was a bribe—a payoff,” Peter suggested. “If someone comes forward. There is a lot of money at stake.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be too hard to discredit one of Isabella’s friends—if one does come forward. But from what I understand, she lost touch with most of her old friends when she got involved with Earthbound Spirits. I kept a close eye on her when she pulled away from the group. No one stands out as a special confidant.”

“What about that guy she used to date—Adam Nichols? The one who owns Frederickport Vacation Properties,” Peter asked.

“Well, she did see him after he was arrested and released, for that woman’s murder from Marlow House, back in July.”

Peter nodded with approval. “You really were keeping an eye on her.”

“A lot of money at stake.” Cleve shrugged.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you, Cleve.”

“I hope getting rid of Christiansen won’t be too much of a problem.”

“I’ve been rethinking that. I know we want to bring in our own man—and I’m certain I can convince Darlene to vote with us to get rid of Christiansen, but maybe that’s not the smartest thing to do.”

“You don’t seriously think we’ll be able to work with Christiansen?” Cleve asked incredulously. “He’s going to be a problem, you know it.”

“But he also knows the company inside out. I don’t want to take over a multi-million dollar business and watch its value plummet. Maybe we’d be smarter to offer Christiansen a financial incentive—something to make him want to stay with the company and continue making us money.”

Cleve shook his head, “I don’t know. Christiansen thinks of the company as his own.”

“Even better, nothing like an employee who takes a personal interest in the company he works for.” Peter grinned.

“While you aren’t worried about Darlene contesting our claim, I am a little concerned about Christiansen.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I’m sure Christiansen is counting on taking the helm with Stoddard gone. After all, Darlene isn’t capable, and from what I understand, Christiansen’s been virtually running the company for the last few years anyway,” Peter said. “If he feels we plan to push him out, he’ll undoubtedly jump in and try to contest our will in favor of Stoddard’s. After all, Darlene will be much easier to control. But if we let Christiansen know we want him on our team—that we don’t want to get involved with the management of the company—we could get him on our side. Everything would go much smoother with Christiansen on board.”

“I suppose you might be right,” Cleve said reluctantly. “Perhaps offer him a pay increase.”

“That’s pretty much what I’m thinking. From what I understand, Christiansen has some sort of profit share in the company. Increasing his share would probably seal the deal. I understand Stoddard wasn’t the easiest man to work with. If Christiansen feels we’ll be a silent owner—agreeable to letting him run the business as he sees fit, then why wouldn’t he stay? Why would he care if it’s Darlene who owns the company, or Darlene and Earthbound Spirits?”

“Just as long as we keep a close eye on the company. Regular audits.”

“You don’t trust Christiansen?” Peter asked with a laugh.

“I’d trust him more if he was a member of Earthbound Spirits,” Cleve grumbled.

“Well, maybe we need to work on that conversion—after we get this settled.”

“I’ve met Christiansen. I don’t think he’s a likely candidate.”

“If Christiansen doesn’t work out, we can get rid of him later,” Peter said.

“But if he continues managing the company after we take over and he doesn’t work out, he might not be so easy to get rid of,” Cleve said.

“We thought Stoddard Gusarov was going to be a problem,” Peter reminded him with a laugh. “But look how nicely that worked out.”

J
oe sat
in the passenger seat of the squad car. He glanced over at Brian, who drove the vehicle toward Marlow House.

“I’m surprised the chief’s not going with me instead of you—considering how Danielle feels about you.” Still wearing his street clothes, dressed casually in new denims and a golf shirt, Joe leaned back in the seat.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Brian grumbled.

“I don’t know why you have such a problem with Danielle. And she didn’t kill Stoddard.”

“Maybe not, but this used to be a nice, quiet, law abiding town. Since Danielle Boatman arrived we’ve been stumbling over dead bodies, and she seems to always be in the center of the drama.”

“I understand you took quite a tumble when you went to arrest her yesterday. Fell on your butt?” Joe studied Brian’s reaction.

Frowning, Brian turned to Joe and then looked back down the road. “Who said that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Did you really fall in Marlow House after grabbing hold of Lily?”

“I didn’t grab her exactly,” Brian snapped. “I barely touched her.”

“But one of the guys said you practically flew off your feet, landing on your back. Said the way you got up rubbing your chin, one would think someone had slugged you.”

“Nobody hit me. I just slipped and fell.”

“They didn’t say anyone hit you. In fact, the way they saw it, you pretty much flew backwards without anyone’s help.”

“So? You’ve never fallen before?”

“I just was wondering; why did you get up rubbing your chin when it was your backside you landed on?”

“Why do you care?”

“When they told me…” Instead of finishing his sentence, Joe thought back to another fall he’d witnessed at Marlow House.

“They or he? Or she? Who’s the chatty gossip we work with?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Joe shrugged. He leaned back in the seat and looked ahead. “But when they described it, reminded me of Cheryl.”

“Cheryl?” Brian frowned. “Boatman’s cousin?”

“Yeah. I remember the day of the open house, before people started arriving. Cheryl fell in the hallway of Marlow House. No one saw her fall, but she landed on her backside—like you. Her face was bruised. She insisted Danielle shoved her, but Danielle swore she hadn’t touched her cousin. At the time, Cheryl was grabbing at Danielle—like you were grabbing at Lily.”

“Lily didn’t shove me. No one touched me. I just fell,” Brian insisted.

“But isn’t it interesting—you both fell backwards in the hallway at Marlow House, and in both cases you felt as if someone hit your face.”

“I never said anyone hit my face. Anyway, it wasn’t in the hallway exactly. More like the entry.”

“Close enough. Why were you rubbing your chin?” Joe asked.

“What’s the big deal?” Brian snapped. “Fact is, Boatman probably did smack her cousin. You even saw the bruises. I just slipped. It happens. I don’t know why you think one has anything to do with the other.”

“I don’t know.” Joe shrugged. “I’m just trying to understand Danielle—make sense of things I’ve seen, or thought I’ve seen.”

“I wonder what you would be thinking right now if you’d gone somewhere else for your vacation and hadn’t seen Boatman yesterday morning. Then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a hurry to find an excuse for all her past behaviors.”

“You’re right…” Joe murmured, looking out the side window. “I’d probably be helping you lock her up…and that realization scares the crap out of me.”

W
hen Joe
and Brian arrived at Marlow House a few minutes later, Ian Bartley answered the front door.

“Joe, Brian, I’m surprised to see you two here,” Ian coolly greeted, not inviting them inside.

“We’d like to talk to Danielle,” Joe explained.

Ian raised his brow curiously, eyeing each officer. He noticed Joe was dressed in street clothes, while Brian wore a uniform.

“Without her attorney present, really?” Ian asked.

“We understood her attorney was here,” Joe explained.

Ian didn’t respond, but silently studied both men a few moments, while holding the edge of the front door. Finally, he opened the door wider, letting the officers inside the house.

“Wait here,” Ian instructed after closing the front door. Silently, Joe and Brian waited in the foyer while Ian walked down the hallway to the library, where Danielle was meeting with her attorney, Candice Holloway.

“How did you two make it past the front door?” Walt asked when Ian left for the library. Neither man could see or hear Walt, yet that did not stop Walt from trying to make his presence known.

With his hands behind his back, Walt—dressed in his favorite pinstripe suit and leather shoes—circled the men while critically looking them up and down.

“I never understood what she saw in you,” he told Joe. “Lily says you’re good looking, but I don’t see it at all. And you,” he turned his attention to Brian and paused a moment. “I want you to stay away from Danielle.” Walt reached out and jabbed Brian in his right forearm.

“Ouch!” Brian called out, grabbing his now bruised forearm.

“Crybaby,” Walt snorted. “That didn’t even hurt.”

“What was that for?” Brian asked Joe.

“What are you talking about?”

“You poked me,” Brian accused.

“I didn’t poke you.”

Before Brian could respond, Candice Holloway exited the library and made her way down the hall toward the waiting officers. She looked just as Brian remembered from their brief meeting the day before. Yet today, she wore a pink linen suit.

“Gentleman, I understand you wish to speak to my client.” Candice said primly, holding out her hand in greeting. Joe briefly shook her hand as he introduced himself. She had already met Brian.

“We were hoping to speak to both of you,” Joe explained.

“I suppose we can listen to what you have to say, but at this time, my client really has nothing to say.” Candice smiled sweetly.

“I’m sure your client will be thrilled with what we have to say,” Brian said dryly.

“We’ll see.” Candice turned and headed toward the library, leaving the officers to trail after her.

“I wasn’t thrilled over the fact Danielle’s lawyer is a woman,” Walt said as he walked toward the library with the two silent police officers. “But she doesn’t seem particularly intimidated over you two palookas.” Walt chuckled. “Maybe she’ll work out after all.”

In the library, they found Lily and Danielle sitting on the sofa together, talking to Ian who sat in a chair across from them. When the attorney reentered the library, followed by Joe and Brian, the three turned toward the doorway. Ian stood, yet Danielle and Lily remained seated.

“The officers have something they wish to tell us. But I’ve already informed them that Ms. Boatman has nothing to say at this time,” Candice explained as she walked into the library and headed to the seat next to Ian. Both she and Ian sat down and looked up at the officers, who remained standing.

Walt followed them into the room and sat on the edge of the desk, observing the unfolding scene. With a wave of his hand, a thin cigar appeared between two of his fingers. He took a puff and looked over at Danielle, who warily eyed Brian and Joe.

“We knew it was only a matter of time until Joe got in on the act,” Walt told Danielle. “I don’t know why Ian let the clowns in my house.”

Danielle glanced over to Walt, prepared to send him a scolding glance. She hated when he rambled on when other people were present—it made it too difficult for her to focus—but then motion from the library window, beyond Walt, caught her eye. It was Stoddard’s ghost. He stood outside the window, his fists silently pounding against the pane as he wailed pitifully. Or at least, she assumed he was wailing pitifully, considering how his mouth was moving. Fortunately, for her, she couldn’t actually hear his caterwauling, at least not with the window closed.

“Chief MacDonald did try calling you,” Joe told the attorney. “Your phone went to voice mail.”

Danielle turned her back to Walt and the window, trying to focus her attention on what Joe and Brian had to say.

“So, you decided to just come over here?” Candice said.

“We thought you’d want to know immediately. Charges against your client have been dropped,” Brian explained, his tone void of any emotion.

“They have?” Danielle exclaimed, sitting up straighter.

Silently Candice motioned for Danielle to remain silent, wanting to hear everything the officers had to say.

“It seems a witness has come forward and claims to have seen Ms. Boatman during the time Stoddard was murdered. His story corroborates Ms. Boatman’s account.”

“And who is this witness?” Candice asked.

“I am,” Joe said softly, looking over at Danielle.

Walt shot off the desk, bolting upright. Now standing, he looked from Joe to Danielle.

“He better not be making this up, just to get back in your good graces,” Walt said angrily. “His so-called help could end up backfiring and cause you more harm.”

Danielle glanced to Walt and back to Joe. She wanted to ask questions, but continued to follow her attorney’s instructions and remained silent.

“I don’t understand; Joe is the witness?” Lily asked. All eyes turned to Joe, waiting for him to explain. He and Brian remained standing.

“I’ve been on vacation. Instead of going out of town, I rented a beach house on Sea Cliff Drive.” As Joe talked, his eyes remained on Danielle. “Yesterday morning I heard someone knocking at the house next door. I looked out the window—it was Danielle. I noticed the time; it was 7 a.m. This morning, when I got up, I turned on the radio and heard a news report about Danielle being arrested. At the time, I didn’t know when the crime had been committed. It wasn’t until I went into the station that I learned the details of the case—and I realized it couldn’t have been Danielle.”

“And if you hadn’t seen me with your own eyes you would’ve believed I murdered Gusarov?” Danielle asked angrily, unable to contain her comment.

“I’m sorry Danielle,” Joe said. “I didn’t know what to think when I heard the news report. I couldn’t imagine you would have done something like that.”

Candice stood up and walked to Danielle. Keeping her eyes on Joe and Brian, she gently placed her hand on Danielle’s shoulder.

“Thank you for coming over here and telling us,” Candice said. “Have there been any new leads in the case?”

“If what Joe says is true, then I guess this means someone has gone through a great deal of trouble to frame your client, considering the eye witnesses who claim to have seen Danielle driving by Stoddard’s house during the morning of the shooting,” Brian said.

“And is there some reason you doubt Sargent Morelli’s account of the events?” Candice asked.

“No…” Brian said, glancing over to Joe who was now glaring in his direction.

“I’d like to hear exactly what you saw yesterday,” Candice asked Joe. She walked over to the desk and picked up a pad of paper and pen.

Joe gave Candice a nod and then proceeded to tell her what he’d seen and heard yesterday morning, beginning when he first heard Danielle pounding on the neighbor’s door. He explained how he heard Danielle introduce herself when knocking on the door, how he’d been watching her with the binoculars, and about the car that had driven down the street when Danielle was sitting at the back of the house on the porch swing. The car, as Joe explained, appeared to be the same make and model as Danielle’s, and it was entirely possible, Joe said, that whoever was driving the second car might have put the murder weapon in Danielle’s vehicle.

Candice took notes as Joe told his story, and she asked several questions during the telling. When he was done she thanked him, but she didn’t allow Danielle to ask any additional questions.

“
T
hat’s good news
, isn’t it?” Ian asked after Joe and Brian departed.

“I feel as if a tremendous weight has been lifted,” Danielle said with a sigh, slumping against the back of the sofa.

Lily reached over and patted Danielle’s knee. With a smile she said, “I knew this would all work out.”

Candice tucked the notepad inside her briefcase. “I’d like to say this is all over.”

“What do you mean?” Danielle asked warily.

“I’m just saying, this is still an open investigation, and the victim did name you as his killer.” Candice explained.

“But Joe said he saw Danielle at the time of the murder,” Lily said.

“I understand that,” Candice said. “And hopefully, this will be the end of it. But if the DA decides he can make a case against Danielle and believes Joe has perjured himself because of his past relationship with Danielle, then they could possibly refile charges. We have no idea what else the police might uncover.”