The Ghost and the Mystery Writer (21 page)

D
anielle stood
a moment at the attic doorway, silently observing Walt, who gazed out the window, watching the last hour of daylight.

“I'm going now,” she said in a soft voice.

Turning from the window, Walt smiled at Danielle. His eyes swept over her, noting she had changed into leggings and a mauve sweater. Her hair, fashioned into a fishtail braid, was still damp from her recent shower.

“You aren't going to a restaurant?” he asked.

“No. Cookout on the beach. Have a bonfire, maybe roast some marshmallows.”

Walt turned back to the window and looked out. “It's been a few years since I've been to a cookout on the beach.”

Danielle walked to Walt and looked outside. “Hillary's downstairs in her room, still at her typewriter. I expect her to be there until we get back.”

“Did she have dinner yet?”

“She went out after the chief left, grabbed a burger, and brought it back here. Went right to her room with it,” Danielle explained.

“Something odd about that one—especially after what I overheard—but she's obviously a dedicated writer.”

“I'd love to know what the deal is with her and Melony. Maybe I'll learn something tonight.”

“Who's all going to be there?”

“Lily and Ian, and Adam and Melony.”

“And you and Chris?” Walt asked in a soft voice.

Danielle shrugged. “Just some friends getting together.”

Still staring out the window, Walt said, “I like Chris, Danielle. He annoys the hell out of me—but I like him.”

“He likes you too.”

Walt sighed and then said, “That's not what I'm talking about.”

Danielle looked curiously to Walt. “What are you talking about?”

“We already know you and Chris are friends. But being friends doesn't mean something more can't develop. In fact, it's best to begin as friends.”

“Are you trying to play matchmaker, Walt?”

Walt looked at Danielle and smiled softly. “I want you to be happy. That's all. And I think you might be happy with Chris.”

“Who says I'm not happy now?” she asked defensively.

Walt's serious yet sweet expression instantly transformed into a mischievous smile. “Plus,” he added, now grinning, “you really aren't getting any younger.”

K
neeling on his kitchen floor
, Chris moved cans of beer out of the open refrigerator and placed them in the ice chest. He glanced up at Danielle, who leaned back casually against the kitchen counter, absently toying with the glass of wine he had just poured her. She had been the first to arrive.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he stood up and grabbed some ice from the freezer.

Danielle glanced over at Chris and smiled. “Umm…sure…why?”

Chris dumped the ice into the open chest. “I don't know; you just seem a little preoccupied.”

Rubbing a finger around the rim of the wineglass, she watched Chris. “I think Walt just gave me his permission to…” Instead of finishing her sentence, she took a sip of wine.

Chris placed the lid on the ice chest and stood up. “Permission to what?” Wiping his damp hands on the sides of his jeans, he turned to face Danielle, waiting for her to finish her sentence. When she didn't, he said, “Permission to what? What did Walt give you permission to do?”

Nervously flicking the tip of her tongue over her lower lip, she looked into Chris's blue eyes. “For you and I…to…well…be more than just friends.”

Chris cocked his brows and smiled. “And you needed Walt's permission for that?”

“No,” Danielle said quickly and then took another sip of wine. “It's just that he said he liked you…”

“And I like Walt. He drives me crazy sometimes. But he's a good guy.”

Danielle chuckled.

“What's funny?” Chris asked.

“He said practically the same thing about you.”

“Did he?”

Danielle took another sip of wine and then said, “Actually, it's not the first time he's said something like that.”

Chris took several steps to Danielle. Standing before her, he reached out and gently took the wineglass from her hand and then set it on the counter behind her. Her eyes followed the departing glass and then looked up into Chris's eyes. His hand moved from the wineglass to Danielle's chin and tipped it up slightly, toward his face.

She started to say something, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, his lips brushed over hers. Closing her eyes to enjoy the kiss, the doorbell rang.

“Damn,” Chris whispered against her lips.

Now smiling, Danielle opened her eyes. “Your company has arrived.”

“Whose idea was this cookout anyway?” Chris grumbled as he moved away from Danielle.

“Yours.” She picked her wineglass back up and watched Chris walk to the front door.

“
A
dam and Melony
.” Chris shook his head. “I didn't see that one coming.”

Chris stood with Danielle by the sliding glass door, looking outside. Just beyond the patio, Adam helped Ian build a bonfire while Melony and Lily stood nearby chatting. Chris and Danielle had come back inside the house to get the cooler of beer and another bottle of wine.

“They're just childhood friends,” Danielle said. “I like Adam, but come on, him and Melony? Maybe Melony is from Frederickport, but she's definitely a Park Avenue girl. No way would she wear a scrunchie.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you ever watch
Sex and the City
?”

“Yeah, what does that have to do with a scrunchie?”

“There was this episode where Carrie is talking to a guy she's seeing—he's another writer—and in his book he has his female character—a New Yorker—wearing a scrunchie. Carrie is adamant that she and her friends would never wear one.”

“Next question. What is a scrunchie?”

Danielle laughed. “It's a fabric rubber band thingie used to hold a ponytail.”

“Ahhh…well…I don't know if Melony would wear a scrunchie or not, but there's some chemistry going on between those two.”

“Maybe you're right.” Danielle started to open the sliding door but then paused. She glanced over to Chris. “Do you think Jolene will show up again?”

“It's entirely possible, since Melony's here.”

“If she does, I wish there was some way to get her to tell us who killed her. But I don't see that happening with an audience.”

“When I saw her, I don't think she realizes she's dead yet,” Chris told her.

“But she showed us where her rings were,” Danielle reminded him.

“True, but she probably followed her killer and watched him dump them in the water. She was just trying to get them back. But did she understand she's dead? I don't think so. Not from how she acted with me.”

L
ily and Ian's
contribution to the dinner was the steaks they had purchased before coming over to Chris's house. Adam and Melony had picked up some salads at the deli and French bread from Old Salts Bakery. Danielle brought marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers to make s'mores for dessert. Chris provided the beverages and grilled the steaks. After dinner they all sat around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows.

Instead of beach chairs, they had spread blankets around the blazing fire. Sadie napped on the blanket she shared with Lily and Ian. Danielle glanced over to Melony, who shared a blanket with Adam. By the way the two continually exchanged whispers and private jokes, she suspected Chris might be right.

Removing a marshmallow from the fire, Danielle blew on it a moment, trying to cool it down before slipping it from the stick. Just as she pulled the gooey marshmallow off, Chris reached over and snatched it from her, popping it into his mouth.

“You brat!” Danielle cried out. Unable to maintain the proper amount of outrage, she smacked him with her now empty stick.

Chris started to say something, but he was distracted when Jolene suddenly appeared, hovering over Melony.

“I'd stab him with your stick,” Lily said with a laugh.

Danielle, like Chris, was now distracted. Mesmerized, they watched Jolene, waiting to hear what the spirit had to say. The others—Melony, Adam, Ian, and Lily—prattled on, discussing marshmallow thieves and appropriate punishment, oblivious to the new arrival.

“What are you doing with him!” Jolene shouted, pointing to Adam. Jolene then turned her attention to Adam. “I told you to stay away from my daughter! You've ruined her!”

Sadie woke up, jumped up from her place by Ian, and began barking at the intruding spirit. In the next moment, Jolene vanished. Danielle and Chris exchanged quick glances.

“Sadie!” Ian snapped. “What are you barking at?”

Sadie let out a
woof,
glanced around and then reluctantly returned to her place on the blanket. After making several perfunctory circles, she plopped down with a grunt.

Ian scowled at his golden retriever, shook his head, and reached over and ruffled the fur on her back. “Crazy dog,” he muttered.

Chris stood up and stretched while surveying the area, looking for any sign of Jolene. Walking a few feet from the bonfire, he glanced down the beach. “Hey, looks like we aren't the only ones having a bonfire tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Ian asked. “Who's having a bonfire, and why weren't we invited?” They all laughed.

“Looks like it's at Pete Rogers's house,” Chris told them.

“Pete Rogers?” Melony looked to Adam. “Hey, you want to walk down there with me? I'd love to say hi to Pete.”

M
oonlight lit
the way for Adam and Melony as they walked down the beach from Chris's house to Pete's. It wasn't a far walk, yet when they were about twenty feet from Pete's bonfire, they paused a moment and watched. They hadn't expected him to be alone. Nor had they expected him to be standing by his blazing fire, ripping pages from a book and feeding them to the flames.