The Ghost Who Wasn't (Haunting Danielle Book 3) (2 page)

L
abor Day weekend
officially signified the end of the summer season. It was a short first season for Marlow House Bed and Breakfast. Lily had already returned to California before Danielle accepted her first guests in early August. Yet, Danielle had other business she needed to attend to, such as planning her cousin, Cheryl’s funeral and settling the estate.

Danielle sat next to Ian at Pier Cafe’s lunch counter. It was the first Wednesday in September, and Carla the waitress had just taken their breakfast orders and filled their cups with coffee.

Danielle picked up her mug, took a sip and then said, “I guess there is life for a B & B after Labor Day.”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked.

“I got a reservation this morning.” Danielle smiled. “They arrive on Friday.”

“Congratulations. Anyone I might know? Lily perhaps?”

Danielle laughed. “Sorry, not Lily. Some couple from Portland. They’re staying for a week. Of course, they might turn out to be a no show.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The man who made the reservation said he doesn’t have a credit card—claims not to believe in them. Promised to pay in cash when he gets here.”

“Everyone has plastic, a debit card at least.”

Danielle shrugged. “I guess not. No big deal really. It’s not like I’m in the middle of tourist season and turning people away.”

“Sounds kind of sketchy to me. May not be safe.”

“I’ll be fine.”
After all, I have Walt. He’s better than an armed guard. Well, most of the time.

“Okay, but remember I’m just across the street if you need me.”

“Thanks, Ian.”

“Have you heard from Lily?”

“Not since last week. She was getting ready for her Labor Day trip.”

“Can’t believe she drove that far for the weekend. Might as well have driven up here,” Ian grumbled.

“She goes every Labor Day. Girl’s weekend.”

“So why didn’t you go?”

“They’re people she’s known since she was a kid. Not really my friends. Have you talked to her?”

“I spoke to her right before she left. Didn’t want to bother her over the weekend when she was with her friends. I was hoping she’d give me a call when she got home. But I haven’t heard from her.”

“From what I understood, she wasn’t planning to get home until sometime Monday evening. Maybe she got home later than she expected and didn’t want to call you so late. Labor Day traffic and all.”

“I tried calling her last night but no answer.”

“Knowing Lily, she probably forgot to charge her phone. So what’s with you two?”

“That sounds like a Lily question, not something you’d ask.” Ian smiled.

“I guess after living with her for the summer, she rubbed off on me,” Danielle joked.

“I’m going down there when I wrap up the Emma Jackson story. I hope to be finished before the end of the month.”

“Does this mean I’m losing a neighbor?”

“I think so. I have to admit, if it wasn’t for Lily, I’d be tempted to stay. I like working here, although I imagine it’ll be getting pretty cold come winter.”

“Ah…” Danielle grinned. “So it is serious.”

“Yeah, I think so.” Ian downed the rest of his coffee and motioned for Carla to bring the pot to the table.

“I’m going to miss you. But I’ll miss Sadie most.”

“Sadie will miss you too.”

No, Sadie will miss Walt
, Danielle silently corrected.

“Did you hear they found Isabella Strickland?” Carla asked as she refilled their coffee cups.

“Who’s that?” Danielle asked.

In response, Carla grabbed a copy of the morning paper from behind the lunch counter and tossed it between Ian and Danielle. Ian picked up the paper and glanced over the front page article.

“She’s a local girl,” Ian explained as he skimmed the paper. “She went missing when you were in California for Cheryl’s funeral.”

“Missing?” Danielle asked. “I would have thought I’d of heard about something like that. This is a small town.”

“Well, no one thought she was missing missing,” Carla explained as she set the coffee pot on the counter. “According to her uncle, she took off on a trip, but when he tried to call her cellphone, she wouldn’t answer his call. He was pretty annoyed. Said she was ignoring him. I swear, he complained to about everyone in town who would listen.”

“I read the article this morning. There’s obviously more to the story than an errant niece,” Ian said as he glanced over the front page.

“I know!” Carla said excitedly. “They found her body in the desert, a couple hundred yards from a rest stop near Palm Springs!”

“She’s dead? That’s horrible!” Danielle gasped.

“No, she’s alive. But in a coma,” the waitress explained. “She’s lucky that dog found her, or she’d definitely be dead by now!”

The cook rang a bell, and Carla quickly picked up the pot of coffee. “I have an order up.”

“What dog?” Danielle asked after Carla walked away. “I’m totally confused.”

Ian set the newspaper on the counter. “A family pulled into a rest stop outside of Palm Springs. When they went to walk their dog, he started pulling on the leash and managed to slip out of his collar, and ran off into the desert. They chased after him, and he led them to a body—the unconscious body of Isabella Strickland. She’d been hit over the head, and left for dead in the desert.”

“That’s awful. Do they have any idea who did it?”

“No. According to the article, they found her car in the parking lot at the rest stop. That’s how they figured out who she was. Someone had removed her car’s license plate and put it in the back of the car with her purse. There weren’t any finger prints inside or on the vehicle—not even Isabella’s, which suggests someone wiped it down.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Danielle asked.

“It doesn’t sound good. She’s in a coma, and according to the article, her uncle had her moved to his house where she’s getting round the clock care.”

“He moved her from the hospital to his house?” Danielle frowned.

“Her uncle is Stoddard Gusarov.”

“The Stoddard Gusarov? The one who lives in that monstrosity on the south side of town?”

“Gusarov considers his house an architectural marvel,” Ian snickered.

“It’s hideous. Looks like an industrial building. In fact, I thought it was one when I first saw it. Wondered why they built it on such a prime piece of ocean front property.”

“The Gusarovs have money to build whatever they want, even an ugly house like that. I read about it once, it’s over six thousand square feet.”

“Did the rest of her family just go along with the uncle removing her from the hospital?”

“She really doesn’t have any other family. According to the stories, her father married her mother for the money, but when his new in-laws disinherited his wife, he took off, not long after he found out his new bride was pregnant.”

“Nice guy,” Danielle scoffed.

“The mother reportedly had mental issues, and Isabella ended up being raised by her grandparents.”

“What happened to her mother?” Danielle asked.

“She died when Isabella was just a kid. From what I understand, she was in and out of rehab.”

“Alcoholic?” Danielle asked.

“I think it was more prescription drugs.”

“And her father was never in the picture?”

“No. He disappeared. I suspect he’s probably dead. I’d expect someone like that to resurface after his wife died and claim his fatherly rights—in an attempt to get to his daughter’s eventual inheritance. But apparently he never did.”

“Isabella isn’t married?”

“No.”

“How did they make their money?”

Ian took a sip of coffee before answering the question. “From what I understand, Gusarov’s parents made a fortune in the adult care industry.”

“You mean like retirement homes?” Danielle asked.

“Primarily assisted living. They have facilities all over the country. The family is worth a fortune.” With a mischievous grin he added, “Might have as much money as you.”

“Ha ha…” Danielle rolled her eyes.

“After Isabella’s grandfather died, his estate was divided between her and the uncle. The grandmother had passed away a few years after Isabella’s mother. According to the terms of the will, Isabella became an active member of the business when she turned twenty-one. I assume that’s why her uncle got annoyed when she’d just take off on her impromptu trips. Technically speaking, they are business partners.”

“How do you know so much about the family?”

“I did a lot of reading up on the area when I was working on the Eva Thorndike story. Although, the Gusarovs are relative newcomers to the area.”

“I still don’t understand why she isn’t in a hospital.”

Before Ian could answer Danielle’s question, the waitress brought their food.

“Wouldn’t she get better care in the hospital?” Danielle asked after Carla left their table.

“From what the article says, it doesn’t look good for her. I suppose some will insist she was lucky to have been found by that dog—but was she really found in time? I think her uncle is just trying to make her comfortable, and frankly, if it was someone I loved and I could afford it, I would do the same thing.”

“I suppose…” Danielle speared a piece of scrambled egg with her fork. “It is so sad. I wonder what happened.”

“Hopefully they’ll be able to find out something.”

“What I don’t understand, why didn’t they find her earlier?” Danielle asked. “If she was missing, couldn’t they track her by her cellphone? Or I would think someone with that much money would have one of those radio thingies in her car. You know, like when you break down and call for help.”

“Like Carla said, she wasn’t missing missing.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t think anyone was actively looking for her. Not the police, anyway. After all, she is an adult and doesn’t have to check in with anyone. Plus, she has a history of just taking off and being gone for a few weeks at a time without checking in with anyone.”

“The way the waitress said, ‘Did you hear they found Isabella Strickland,’ made it sound like everyone was looking for her.”

“That week you were gone, her uncle was going around complaining to everyone who would listen—like Klein over at the bank and people here at the cafe—that she’d taken off again. Small town, that sort of thing makes its rounds pretty quickly. But by the time you got back, it was old news, and Gusarov seemed to have gotten over his annoyance. At least he had stopped going around town complaining.”

“I wonder if he feels guilty about it now.” Danielle spread jam over her toast.

“It could be why he decided to keep her at home and hire private, round the clock care.”

Glancing up, Ian noticed two uniformed police officers walking into the diner. “Don’t look now, your favorite cops are here,” Ian whispered under his breath.

“Oh gawd…” Danielle moaned, refusing to look up. “Can’t they get donuts somewhere else?”

“They’re coming over here,” Ian whispered.

“Both of them?” Danielle asked as she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

Before Ian could respond, Joe Morelli and his partner, Brian Henderson, walked up to their place at the counter.

“Morning Danielle, Ian,” Joe greeted.

Chewing her food, Danielle slowly turned and looked at Joe. She gave him a brief nod in greeting before turning back to her plate.

“Morning Joe, Brian. I see they found Isabella Strickland,” Ian said. “Any leads on who’s responsible for putting her in a coma?”

Before they could respond, Danielle wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned back around to face Joe and Brian. “That’s probably why they’re here,” Danielle said sarcastically. “I am the likely suspect. After all, I was in California the week she went missing. God you guys are good. Can’t ever get anything over on you.”

“Did you know Isabella Strickland?” Brian asked.

Joe shuffled uncomfortably. “Right now the investigation’s being handled in California. We’re not really involved.”

“Are you sure about that? Your partner there just asked if I knew her.”

“Umm…I’m sure Brian knew you were just kidding,” Joe said.

“She didn’t sound like she was kidding,” Brian said.

“No, Officer Henderson, I wasn’t kidding. I was being sarcastic. But then you’ve never been very intuitive.”

“I’m going to grab a booth.” Brian turned and walked away.

“Danielle, can’t we at least be friends?” Joe asked.

“Fine,” Danielle muttered.

Ian sat quietly and listened to the exchange.

“I’m so sorry about everything,” Joe insisted.

“Your partner obviously isn’t. I tossed that one crumb and he was ready to pounce.”

“That’s just Brian. I’m sorry but considering the circumstances, can’t you at least understand why I thought what I did?” Joe asked.

Danielle turned to Ian and asked, “Did you ever think I killed my cousin?”

“No,” Ian answered truthfully and took a sip of coffee.

Joe didn’t respond. Instead, he let out a deep sigh, gave a nod to Ian and made his way to the booth where Brian waited.

“To be completely honest, I was somewhat prejudiced,” Ian whispered when Joe was out of earshot. “I am in love with your best friend—and I could hardly imagine Lily’s best friend was a cold hearted killer.”

“Oh shut up, that’s not the point…” She then paused for a moment and looked up into Ian’s face. Flashing a wide grin she said, “You’re in love with Lily!”

“Oh shut up yourself…” Ian grumbled. “I didn’t mean to say that. Well, at least not until I tell Lily.”

Danielle began to laugh.

W
hen Danielle left
the diner alone, thirty minutes later, Joe and Brian were just finishing their breakfast. She didn’t stop at their table to say goodbye, nor did she look their way as she left the restaurant. Yet, she could feel Joe’s eyes on her as she walked by their booth and headed to the door.

Overtly she had expressed anger toward Joe. What she actually felt was more akin to profound sadness—something she carefully concealed. Danielle had genuinely liked Joe Morelli and it wasn’t just his dark good looks and friendly brown eyes. He was the first man since her late husband—not counting Walt of course, yet Walt didn’t count since he was dead—to whom she felt an attraction. Her attraction to Walt was obviously that of just a close friend—at least that’s what she told herself, considering anything more would be absurd considering the circumstances. Yet, with Joe, she thought their relationship might bloom into something deeper—more personal and physical.

Danielle still believed Joe Morelli was the caring person she first imagined. However, the moment Joe’s concern for her shifted from a man interested in a woman, to a man concerned for a broken, mentally ill soul, their relationship was forever tainted. Even though Joe now knew she was not responsible for Cheryl’s death, Danielle believed he still questioned her sanity.
Perhaps he doesn’t think I am insane exactly
, she told herself—
just fragile and a little unstable
.

Walking back to her house from the diner, Danielle thought about Joe Morelli and their brief relationship. It was so brief he had never gotten around to kissing her. By the time she reached her street, Danielle’s thoughts had already turned from Joe to Marlow House and her plans for the bed and breakfast.

When she walked in her front door, she was surprised to find Walt anxiously pacing back and forth in the foyer. He came to an abrupt halt, looked up at Danielle and asked, “Are you alone? Is Ian with you?”

Danielle glanced at the door she was closing then looked back to Walt and shook her head. “No, I’m alone, what’s up?” Slipping her purse’s strap off her shoulder, she walked to the entry hall table, with Walt close at her heels.

“We need to talk,” Walt explained as he stood behind Danielle, who was now setting her purse on the entry table and removing her jacket. His eyes darted to the parlor door.

“Talk? What did I do now?” Danielle turned to face Walt. Startled that he was standing so close she impulsively jumped backwards, accidentally hitting the entry table with her hip and sending the purse tumbling to the floor.

“Maybe we should go to the library and talk,” Walt suggested as Danielle leaned down to pick up her purse.

“What is going on with you?” Danielle asked impatiently as she set her purse back on the table, this time with her jacket. Narrowing her eyes, she studied Walt. He was dressed in his normal attire—a three-piece suit circa the 1920s and perfectly polished leather dress shoes. He was now moving toward the library, while encouraging her to follow him, yet his eyes kept flashing in the opposite direction, toward the door leading to the parlor.

“I’ll explain everything, but please hurry, we need to talk. In the library.”

Just as Danielle was about to take a step in Walt’s direction, she heard what sounded like singing, coming from the parlor.

“What was that?” Danielle asked, coming to an abrupt stop.

“Ignore that. I’ll explain everything,” Walt insisted, still edging toward the library door.

“Is someone here?” Danielle turned to face the closed parlor door. Cocking her head to one side, she listened—and again she heard what sounded like a woman singing.

“I said I will explain everything,” Walt insisted.

Ignoring Walt, Danielle walked to the parlor door and threw it open. To her surprise, she found Lily inside the room, sitting at the desk, her bare feet propped up on the desktop as she enthusiastically sang her rendition of Sara Bareilles’
Brave.

“Lily!” Danielle called out in surprise.

Lily stopped singing and smiled at Danielle. Instead of standing up or removing her feet from the desktop, she leaned back in the desk chair and stretched lazily.

“It is about time you showed up,” Lily greeted.

“What in the world are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school?”

“You aren’t happy to see me?” Lily pouted.

“Of course I am!” Danielle laughed. “I’m just surprised to see you.”

“I stopped at Ian’s first. He wasn’t home. Sadie was though, and she was very excited to see me. Much warmer greeting than what you just gave me.” Lily grinned mischievously then asked with more seriousness, “Do you know where Ian is, by the way?”

“I just left him at Pier Cafe. We had breakfast.”

“He didn’t come back with you?” Lily pulled her feet off the desk and sat up straight.

“He had some errands to run in town. Boy, he’s sure going to be happy to see you!”

“I can’t wait to see him.” Lily grinned.

“So tell me, how were you able to get out of work? School just started, I can’t believe you were able to get time off so soon.”

“Life is too short, Dani, to not be with the people you love. I had to come back here.”

“But what about work?” Danielle asked.

“What about it?”

“How long are you planning on staying?”

“Already trying to get rid of me?” Lily teased.

“Of course not.” Danielle sat down in a chair facing the desk.

“So tell me about your new guest!”

“New guest?” Danielle frowned.

“I met him when I got here. Well, I didn’t exactly meet him. I think he thought I was a burglar at first.” Lily giggled. “But once I told him who I was, he seemed to know my name. You been talking about me, Dani?” Lily flashed Danielle a grin and then continued. “He suggested I wait in here for you. I thought that was kinda sweet. Made me feel sort of like a guest. But he never did tell me his name.”

“I’m not sure what you are talking about. What guest?”

“I seriously doubt you don’t know who I’m talking about. The guy with the really sexy blue eyes. He’s pretty cute, even though he does dress a little odd. So tell me about him. I want to hear everything!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have any guests right now. It’s just me…” Danielle paused a moment and stared at Lily before adding, “Me and Walt.”

“Hmmm…that’s right…Walt…I almost forgot about him….” Lily frowned and squinted her eyes, as if trying to grab on to a memory.

“Walt? What do you mean you forgot about Walt?” Danielle studied Lily, who stared off into the opposite direction.

“That’s right…Walt. I never met Walt before. Well, only in my dreams, but that doesn’t count. Now that you mention it, your new guest sorta looks like him. At least like the portrait in the library and how I remember him from my dreams.”

“We don’t have any guests at Marlow House. Honest, Lily.”

Lily looked up at Danielle, a concerned frown on her face. “Not even one with really nice blue eyes?”

“Only Walt,” Danielle said quietly.

“Don’t tell me I’m starting to see ghosts now, because that ain’t happening!” Lily shook her head.

“I tried to warn you,” Walt said a moment later when he appeared in the room, standing between Lily and Danielle.

Lily looked at Walt. “I didn’t see you walk in.” She then turned to Danielle and said, “And you were trying to say you didn’t have any guests staying with you!”

“Lily, you can see him?” Danielle asked quietly.

“Of course I can see him. What’s with you Dani? Are you going to introduce me to your guest or not?” Lily paused a moment, then glanced inquisitively from Danielle to Walt. “Wait, he isn’t a guest at all, is he?”

“No, not exactly,” Danielle said weakly.

“Oh my gosh, you met someone! You two are seeing each other, aren’t you?” Lily said excitedly.

Danielle glanced from Lily to Walt, who only shrugged and looked back to Lily.

After a moment of silence Danielle asked, “Lily, where is your car?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your car. I just realized, I didn’t see it when I walked up to the house.”

“Boy Dani, you sure know how to change the subject!”

“How did you get here, Lily?” Danielle asked.

“How did I get here?” Lily contemplated the question for a moment. “I don’t know. I suppose I walked. Maybe my car is across the street at Ian’s. I did stop there first.”

Danielle started to ask Lily another question when her cellphone began to ring. She stood up briefly, pulled it from her back pocket, and glanced at it.

“It’s your mother,” Danielle told Lily as she sat back down.

“Oh, I wonder if she’s mad at me for playing hooky at work,” Lily said with a sigh.

“Did your mother know you were coming here?” Danielle asked, not yet answering the phone.

“I don’t know,” Lily said impatiently. “Why do you keep asking me all these silly questions?”

Danielle took a deep breath and then answered her phone. “Hello, Mrs. Miller.”

Lily sat at the desk watching Danielle, while Walt took the chair next to Danielle and sat down. After her initial hello, Danielle sat quietly—her expression blank—listening to what Lily’s mother had to say. Finally, she said, “Oh my god…” and closed her eyes briefly.

“What is wrong? Is mother okay?” Lily asked, standing up quickly. “Here, let me talk to her.”

“I am sure your mother is fine. Let Danielle talk to her,” Walt said, looking from Danielle to Lily.

“How do you know that? Why did Mom call her and not me?”

“Where is your phone, Lily?” Walt asked.

“My phone?” Lily glanced around. “Gee, I’m not really sure.” Lily sat back down, looking confused.

After a few more moments of silently listening to Mrs. Miller on the phone, Danielle said, “No, let me tell him. I had breakfast with him this morning, and he’s running errands. I’d rather we be alone when he hears.”

“Are you talking about Ian?” Lily asked. “What does my mother need to tell him? I bet she’s mad at me for coming back here. She probably thinks I’m chasing him! I bet she didn’t believe me when I told her he was moving down to California to be near me. A summer fling. That’s what she called it.”

Somber, Danielle said goodbye to Mrs. Miller and promised to call her back. Turning her phone off, Danielle dropped it to the floor and looked at Lily.

“Well? What did Mom say? And why didn’t you let me talk to her?”

“Lily,” Danielle said quietly, “you really need to focus, and try and remember how you got here. Why you are here.”

“I don’t know.” Lily sighed. “Like I said, maybe I walked.”

“All the way from Sacramento?” Danielle asked.

“Okay, tell me what my mother wanted.” Lily insisted.

“First, Lily, I need to introduce you to Walt Marlow,” Danielle said wearily.

“Walt Marlow?” Lily frowned and glanced at Walt. “Did you tell him about Walt?”

“Him is Walt Marlow,” Danielle explained.

Lily narrowed her eyes and glanced from Danielle to Walt, back to Walt again. “What are you talking about?”

“Take a good look Lily, you’ve seen his portrait. You met him in your dreams. And he didn’t walk in here a few minutes ago, did he? He just appeared.”

“No.” Lily looked at Walt and shook her head. “No, you can’t be Walt Marlow. Walt Marlow is dead. I can’t see ghosts. And Cheryl could only see ghosts after she…after she…” Lily paused; she looked wildly from Walt to Danielle. “No…No…it can’t be! I AM NOT DEAD!”