The Ghost from the Sea (18 page)

D
anielle opened her eyes
. She was back in her bedroom, still in her clothes. Groggy, she sat up and looked around. She picked up her iPhone off the nightstand and looked at the time. It was 3:12 a.m.

Glancing up to the ceiling, she decided not to go see Walt and Jack right now, even though she was fairly certain Stella was asleep downstairs. She wanted time to process what she had learned from Emma. Had Jack been responsible for pirates boarding the Eva Aphrodite? Had it all been a home invasion at sea? Did they double cross Jack, killing all the witnesses, including the person who helped them board the ship?

Getting up, Danielle changed into her sleepwear and climbed back into bed.
I'll shower in the morning
, she told herself.

“
D
oes
it really matter after all this time?” Lily asked Danielle the next morning. The two sat in the side yard drinking their morning coffee. Danielle had just told Lily about last night's dream hop.

“That's sort of what I asked myself when I woke up this morning. It's pretty obvious to me what happened. Why else would they want to get onboard that boat? To steal from the wealthy passengers. Maybe something went wrong, and they were forced to kill everyone.”

“It would explain why Jack was on the boat. It might also explain why he doesn't remember. It was probably all too traumatic.” Lily paused mid-sip and looked to Danielle. “You're certain he doesn't remember what happened, right?”

Danielle shrugged. “Unless he's a really good actor. But no, I don't think he remembers. While it may not matter after all this time, I'm curious about that old jewelry they found onboard.”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that. You're certain it wasn't there when the ship went down?”

“No way. For one thing, if the motive was robbery, I can't imagine they'd leave those behind. But even if they were somehow overlooked, how do we explain the box they were in? Not to mention, Jack claims to have seen a diver leave the box, not long before he ended up here.”

“Okay, let me restate—maybe it doesn't really matter after all this time who killed those poor people, because you're probably right about what happened. But I'm curious about that old jewelry. Who put it there? Why? And where did they get it?” Lily asked.

“Plus, we can't forget about Emma. Something kept her here. The spirits wanted her to show me something. If it was Jack's encounter in the Bluebell, what now? Sometimes, spirits simply want someone from the living to know the truth. Me knowing may be enough, and Emma can move on. But if not, what then? What am I supposed to do with the information?”

“Maybe tell Walt?” Lily suggested.

“Walt…yeah, I'm sort of not looking forward to that. All these years he thought Jack stole from him, and now, well now it's actually worse. His actions contributed to the deaths of all those people. Which will definitely put a damper on their reunion.”

“True. But they killed him too. And the poor guy has spent close to a hundred years stuck on the bottom of the ocean, all alone.”

“Aren't you cold out there?” Stella called out from the kitchen door. Danielle and Lily looked to the now open door leading from the side yard to the kitchen, where Stella stood.

“It's a little chilly, but nice,” Lily answered.

“Breakfast is on. You two are going to join us, aren't you?” Stella asked. “We'll be leaving this afternoon.”

“Certainly,” Danielle said with a forced smile as she stood up with her now empty cup of coffee. She glanced down at Lily, who hadn't yet budged from her chair. “Lily? Breakfast?”

Lily looked up at Danielle and let out a sigh before standing up. They went into the house with Stella.

J
olene Carmichael stood
at the front desk of the Frederickport Police Department. She had just demanded to see Chief MacDonald. The woman working at the front desk was newly hired to the department and had only lived in Frederickport a few months. She had no idea who Jolene Carmichael was, but she politely phoned through to the chief's office telling him a Ms. Jolene Carmichael was at the front desk, requesting to see him. She fully expected the chief to have her ask the woman what this was in regards to and then to direct her to one of the other officers. Yet the chief didn't do that. Instead, he told her he would be right out.

“Jolene, this is an unexpected visit. If it's about what the historical society wants to do with the Eva Aphrodite—”

“Edward, can we talk alone please?” Jolene asked stiffly.

The chief paused a moment, then shrugged and gave a little nod. “Let's go to my office.”

A
fter the chief
led Jolene into his office, he gestured toward an empty chair facing his desk and closed the door behind them.

“What's this about?” the chief asked as he took a seat behind his desk and faced Jolene.

“I understand you've recovered jewelry from the Eva Aphrodite.”

Picking up a pen from his desk, he leaned back in his office chair and began absently tapping the pen's end against the tabletop. “I guess you read this morning's newspaper.”

“Actually I haven't. But this is a small town, and I know you spoke with Ben.”

He smiled. “I see you haven't missed a beat. You've been gone all these years, you've been back just a couple months, and already you know what's going on without having to read the local paper.”

“One thing I know: I don't care for how my hometown's changed since I've been gone.”

Dropping the pen, Edward MacDonald leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. He studied Jolene. “How's that?”

“All this attention on Marlow House, for example. Glorifying Walt Marlow. Someone who was nothing more than a bootlegger and murderer.”

“I'm not sure I'm following you. How is anyone glorifying Walt Marlow?”

“For one thing, Danielle Boatman is trying to rewrite history by all that murder nonsense. I understand she's just trying to promote her bed and breakfast, but I don't appreciate her doing it at the expense of the historical society's integrity.”

“I'm a little curious, Jolene. The historical society was organized, what, five, six years ago? After you left town.”

“What's your point?”

“No point, I guess. Just that technically speaking you're a relatively new member of the group and Danielle's probably been a member longer than you.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jolene snapped. “I'm a Frederickport pioneer, and she's nothing more than a Californian interloper.”

With a shrug he said, “Either way, this issue you have with her is really a matter to address with the historical society, not with me.”

“I'm not here to discuss the historical society. As I stated a moment ago, I'm here to discuss the jewelry your men discovered onboard that boat. I'm here to reclaim my property.”

“Your property?”

“Of course. My great-uncle and his wife were onboard the Eva Aphrodite. They were among those who were slaughtered by Walt Marlow's henchmen—”

“We really have nothing to prove he was responsible for the murders.”

“I know about the diary written by my great-aunt's dear friend. After all, I'm on the board of the historical society. Anything that belonged to my great-aunt rightfully belongs to me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because in my great-uncle's will he left everything to his brother—my grandfather. Which would include his wife's jewelry. And since I'm my grandfather's sole heir, it belongs to me.”

“We're not even sure where that jewelry came from. Some might argue since the boat belonged to Walt Marlow, then his heir, which would indirectly be Danielle Boatman, would be the rightful owner of whatever was on the boat.”

Jolene laughed. “You know very well treasure trove laws don't work that way in Oregon.”

“Always the attorney's wife,” Edward said with a smile.

“However, treasure trove laws would not apply in this case, since I'm the rightful owner of my great-aunt's jewelry,” she reminded.

“Perhaps you need to read this morning's newspaper, because you obviously don't have all the information. The jewelry we found onboard wasn't left there when the boat went down.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I've already spoken to Aaron, seen the photographs.”

“Aaron?” the chief frowned.

“Aaron Michaels, he's the jeweler you had look at the pieces you found, isn't he?”

“I thought you didn't read this morning's newspaper.”

“Aaron is an old family friend. I happened to have dinner with him and his wife last night, and he showed me the pictures he took of the jewelry recovered off the Eva Aphrodite. I recognized several of the pieces. They match pictures I have of my great-aunt wearing them.”

“That may be true, but we're still investigating how they got onboard.”

Jolene stood up. “This is ridiculous. For whatever reason, that jewelry was overlooked by whoever murdered those poor people, and it was left onboard.”

“No Jolene. The box we found onboard—the one with the jewelry in it—it wasn't left on the Eva Aphrodite when the boat went down over 90 years ago. The box was purchased at Walmart; it still had a price tag on the bottom. I'm fairly certain, Walmart wasn't around back then.”

With a frown, Jolene sat back down. “That doesn't make any sense.”

The chief shrugged. “None of this does.”

Jolene sat quietly for a moment; her elbows resting on the chair's arms, her hands folded together, as her knuckles lightly rapped the point of her chin. After a moment, she froze and looked up to the chief. “Danielle Boatman, she put that box on the boat.”

“That's impossible. We had security down there; no one but authorized personnel had access to the boat.”

“It could have been placed there before you posted security down at the beach. Perhaps even before the boat was brought up on shore.”

Curiously eyeing Jolene, the chief leaned back in his chair. “What are you suggesting?”Abruptly, Jolene stood. “This all makes sense! It's been nothing more than a publicity stunt. Why did Brianna Boatman have to leave her estate to that woman? She has brought nothing but trouble to Frederickport!”

“Jolene, if you're suggesting Danielle is in someway responsible for bringing the wreckage of the Eva Aphrodite to our shore, that's ridiculous.”

“Is it? There wasn't a storm that night. Someone had to have hauled that monstrosity here. Everyone says the boat looks like it's been under water. Chances are, she knew where it went down. For all we know, she found Walt Marlow's diary when she found the Missing Thorndike.”

“I never heard about Walt Marlow having a diary.”

“Don't be obtuse, Edward. There was someway she knew where the Eva Aphrodite went down, and the only explanation is Walt Marlow's diary, since he was obviously the one responsible for murdering those people and sinking his own yacht. The jewelry you found onboard was probably hidden all these years with the Missing Thorndike. Her big mistake was not being more careful in selecting a box to store the stolen pieces in when placing them back onboard, obviously for you to find.”