The Ghost from the Sea (25 page)

B
ill Jones flipped
through his clipboard as he finished his cup of coffee. He shoved the now empty breakfast plate to the edge of the table and waited for the server to bring his bill. Looking through his job order, he rearranged the pages, placing them in a specific order to schedule his day. The next house he was going to was on the north side of town. The first house was one located on the same street as the Hemming house. There was a bathroom facet to replace; he had already picked up a new one.

Looking at the order, Bill paused a moment and looked up, staring absently into space. The work order made him think of the Hemming house—and of the gold coins that might be hidden there.

Adam is full of it
, he thought. He had known Adam most of his life and there was no way he wasn't just as curious as Bill about the possibility of hidden treasure. From what Bill had since read after that fiasco with the Missing Thorndike, if Bill did happen upon the hidden gold—like when he was doing repairs at the rental—he could legally claim the gold under Oregon's treasure trove laws. At least, he was pretty sure he could. Hell, he didn't need Adam to do this. He didn't need Adam at all.

“Hey Carla, bring me my check!” Bill shouted to the server. He smiled to himself.
I think I need to go check out Ian's rental, make sure nothing's broken.

“
S
ally set me up
?” Jack sounded heart broken. Walt had just repeated most of what Danielle had told him about what she had learned through her dream hop with Emma. The two old friends sat up in the attic on the sofa, while Sadie napped by their feet and Max perched on the windowsill, tail swishing back and forth, as the cat stared out the window.

“From what Danielle overheard, I don't think Sally knew they were going to kill you. Just use you to get on that boat.”

“But wouldn't she have known when I never came back and they did?”

“I'm afraid they may have gotten rid of Sally.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“We all thought you and Sally ran off together. When I went looking for you at her place, she was gone.”

“They killed her?” Jack asked.

Walt shrugged. “That would be my guess. I never saw her again.”

Jack let out a weary sigh and leaned back in the sofa. “I suppose that answers most of the questions. What happened to me, why I was on the boat.”

“I still wonder what happened to our money. If they took you the way they said they were going to, at the motel—you wouldn't have taken the money with you when you went to meet Sally, would you?”

Jack let out a snort. “Hardly. Always thought Sally was a fun girl but I'd never trust her around my wallet. No, that money's probably still across the street at George's. Unless someone else has found it since that time, which is entirely possible considering how long it's been.”

“You've already said you've moved it. The question is, where to?”

“I remember I was going to bring it here, but then I wanted to go to Sally's—which was obviously a stupid idea. I moved it. Somewhere safe. Hidden.”

“Where?”

“I don't remember.”

Walt chuckled. “Well, we can't use the money now anyway.”

“I would like to know who was behind it all. Who knows, maybe when I move on, I'll find out.”

“Does this mean you're ready to move on?” Walt asked.

“I think so.” Jack looked at Walt. “What about you? You could go with me. See what's on the other side. A new adventure.”

Walt smiled. “I don't think so. You go ahead. I'll catch up later.”

Jack studied Walt for a moment. “It's that little doll isn't it?”

Walt frowned and looked away. “What are you talking about?”

Jack laughed. “I see how you look at her. I remember how you used to look at Eva. Not so different.”

Walt stood. “Oh shut up.” He walked to the window.

“Hell, not different at all,” Jack scoffed.

Walt turned from the window and looked at Jack. “What do you mean?”

“You never had a chance with Eva. She always saw you as a brother; that was never going to change. And with Danielle. Well, isn't it obvious? I don't see you as having much of a chance with her either, but for an entirely different reason.”

“
T
hat was a delicious breakfast
,” Hillary said as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin.

Danielle stood up and began to gather the dirty dishes off the dining room table. “Yes it was. Thank you Ian and Lily.”

Ian stood up and started helping Danielle clear the table. “Considering all the meals I've mooched, I figure I owed you.”

“Ian makes a mean waffle,” Lily said as she popped her last bite of bacon into her mouth. She then stood up and snatched the pile of dirty dishes from Ian. “You should go get that file for Dani to see.”

“What file?” Danielle asked.

“Ian's been doing his own research on the Eva Aphrodite,” Lily explained.

Curious, Danielle looked to Ian, her hands now full with dirty dishes.

“On the passengers and crew,” Ian explained. “We know they were murdered. What we don't know is, was someone on that ship the real target—were the others collateral damage? Or was it a home invasion at sea?”

“I love a good mystery!” Hillary said. “What have you discovered?”

Ian flashed Hillary a smile and then looked at Danielle. “Okay, I'll run across the street and get the file with my research so far. It's a good excuse to get out of doing the dishes, anyway!” he added with a laugh as he dashed from the room.

K
urt crouched
in the far corner of the closet, holding his breath, praying the tenant didn't come into the bedroom or open the closet door. He had been so careful at first, looking out the front window every few minutes, preparing to escape out the back door the moment he saw the man with the dog returning from across the street. But then he got distracted in one of the bedrooms, and just as he stepped into the hallway to check the window again, he heard someone open the front door. He managed to duck in the bedroom just as the man came inside. Kurt had one thing to be grateful for: the man hadn't brought the dog back with him. If he had, Kurt was fairly certain he'd be in deep trouble by now.

I
an could not remember
where he had left the research folder. He swore it was on the kitchen table, but when it wasn't there, he went to look in the living room. Just before he reached the living room, the doorbell rang.

When he answered it, he found a nicely dressed, older woman standing on his front porch.

“Yes, how can I help you?” Ian asked.

“Hello, you must be Ian Bartley,” she said, extending a hand in greeting. “I'm Jolene Carmichael from the Frederickport Historical Society.”

Ian accepted her hand, yet paused a moment when he remembered why he recognized the name. She was the one Danielle had mentioned—the widow of Clarence Renton's business partner—the one who had been snarky to Danielle.

After the brief handshake, he asked, “How can I help you?”

“The historical society has been considering a historical home tour. This house is one of the oldest in Frederickport and—”

“I'm just renting the house,” he interrupted. “You'd need to speak to its owner, Marie Nichols.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, we will. I was just wondering if it might be possible—if it's not too much trouble, if I could look around inside?”

Ian frowned. “I'm not sure why.”

“The interior of the house may not even be suitable for a historical home tour—considering any modern renovations it's had over the years.”

“I don't think it's been changed much.”

“Oh, wonderful! If I could just look around—see if it is what we're looking for, then we can contact Marie Nichols, see if she'd be willing to cooperate.”

“You do know, I'm renting the house. I don't intend to move out any time soon.”

“Oh, this would not infringe on any of your renter's rights, I promise you! No no. And who knows, if you just let me look around, it's entirely possible I'll discover this won't work for what we have in mind.”

“How long will this take?”

“Were you on your way out?” she sounded hopeful.

“I was going back across the street. I just came over here to pick something up.”

“It should only take—oh maybe twenty minutes—you could go ahead and go, I'll be happy to lock up for you. I hate to be an imposition.”

Ian arched his brows at the request. Knowing who she was, he wasn't worried about letting her poke through the house, but he certainly wasn't going to leave her alone while he went back across the street. “I tell you what. You go ahead and have a look around. I need to get some things together anyway.” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side, letting her come in. He watched curiously, as she scurried off and started her inspection.

Just as Ian reached the living room, the doorbell rang again. Before answering the door, he glanced around the room, searching for the file. It was nowhere in sight. Returning to the front door, he opened it. Standing on the front porch was Bill Jones, toolbox in hand.

“Hi Bill. What can I do for you?”

“I need to check your GFI switches.”

Ian frowned. “GFI?”

“You see, before you moved in, I replaced a bunch of GFI switches in this house. Well, it seems there was just a recall and I need to make sure none of the ones I put in here are part of the recall. I don't want your house to burn down.”

Ian opened the door wider and stepped aside. “No, we don't want that.”

Bill smiled and walked into the house, toolbox in hand. “If you were heading out somewhere, I can lock up for you. This will probably take a while.”

“Yeah, well…maybe,” Ian mumbled as he closed the front door. “I'm looking for something and then I'll be heading back across the street, and—”

Bill walked off in the direction of Ian's bedroom, not waiting for Ian to finish his sentence. Ian was about to tell Bill not to be surprised when he ran into Jolene, who was wandering somewhere in his house. Instead, he shrugged and started back to the living room. He hadn't seen the file in there the first time he had looked, but he remembered another place he wanted to check.

A few moments later, Ian stood at the living room bookshelf, scanning the shelves looking for the end of a file he may have inadvertently stuck in between a couple of books, something he sometimes did. The doorbell rang again.

“What the hell is this, Grand Central Station?” Ian asked. Just as he stepped away from the bookshelf to answer the door, he noticed the end of a folder sticking out from between two books.

“There you are!” Ian laughed as he snatched the folder from its place on the shelf. He quickly flipped through it to see if it was what he was looking for. Just when he was confident it was the correct folder, the doorbell rang again.

“I'm coming already!” Ian grumbled. Setting the file down on the coffee table, he hurried toward the front door. When he opened it, Adam Nichols was standing on the front porch.

“Adam? What are you doing here?”

Adam nodded toward Bill's truck. “I noticed Bill's truck out front, is there a problem?”

“That's what he's checking.”

“What do you mean?” Adam frowned.

“The GFI switches.”

“What GFI switches?” Adam asked.

“The recall.” When Adam still did not seem to comprehend, Ian said, “He probably didn't bother telling you about it.” Ian opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in, he can explain it to you.”

Just as Adam stepped into the house, a blood-curdling scream came from the spare bedroom.