The Ghost Who Wanted Revenge (Haunting Danielle Book 4) (2 page)

W
edging
the binoculars between the slats of the window blinds, he watched the woman next door. If she looked his way, he doubted she would notice him.

As far as everyone knew, he had left town—gone away for the week, seeking a little R and R. After all, he needed it, considering all that he had been dealing with. But there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go—at least, not alone. Which is why he decided to stay in town, quietly renting a little beach house belonging to one of his Portland friends. He imagined his co-workers would think him crazy to rent a house just blocks from his own home. But his place wasn’t on the beach, and here—at the rental—no one would bother him.

It all seemed like a good idea until she showed up. What was she doing here anyway, poking around at the house next door? No one was there. He knew the people who owned the property, and they had packed up and headed home weeks earlier. That was one reason he had decided on the house he was renting. By the end of September, its neighborhood was a virtual ghost town. Only the house on the corner had a full time occupant—Mrs. Beasley, who was practically deaf and preferred staying indoors with her six cats.

When the woman had arrived, over an hour earlier, she had gone first to the neighbor’s front stoop, where she persistently pounded on the door, while hollering, “Hello, it’s Danielle Boatman!” He had left his windows open to capture the morning breeze, which is why he had heard her. Glancing at the wall clock, he had noticed it was just 7 a.m., which seemed early for such a noisy visit. That was assuming someone was actually home next door, which didn’t seem to be the case.

He had grabbed the binoculars he found sitting on the kitchen counter and took a closer look. Yes, it was Danielle Boatman. Glancing toward the roadway, he noticed her new red Ford Flex parked in the street, between his mailbox and the neighbor’s. She had purchased the car right after Lily came home from the hospital.

When he looked back to Danielle, she was no longer pounding on the door, but talking on her cellphone. At the end of her conversation, she slipped her phone in her back pocket and headed to the side yard, making her way to the back of the neighbor’s house.

Curious, he continued to watch. Making herself at home, she took a seat on the neighbor’s back porch swing and began pushing it to and fro with one foot, while looking out to the ocean.

A movement from the street caught his eye. He looked in that direction. For a moment, he thought someone was driving off in Danielle’s car, but then he realized it was a second vehicle, another red Ford Flex. It parked briefly behind her car. He couldn’t see its driver as trees partially obscured his view. He assumed whoever was driving the car was probably checking out Danielle’s Flex, comparing it to his own. A moment later, the second car drove off.

Looking back toward Danielle, he found her still sitting in the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth. She had obviously made herself at home.

D
anielle repeatedly pressed
the toe of her shoe against the grassy patch of ground, keeping the porch swing in steady motion. Yawning, she felt lazy, and if her eyes closed, she imagined she could easily fall asleep. Breathing in the early morning beach air, she smiled, content to be alive and living in such a beautiful area. For a brief moment, she wished Marlow House was on Ian’s side of the street, looking over the ocean, but she quickly chided herself for being greedy.
I have much to be grateful for
, Danielle thought.

A moment later, her cellphone began to ring. Standing up briefly, she took it from her back pocket and looked to see who was calling. It was Lily. She had hoped it was Mrs. Anderson. Answering the phone, she sat back down on the swing.

“I thought you’d be home by now,” Lily said. “Are you taking the piano?”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Danielle said.

“You haven’t? You left over an hour ago. Where are you?” Lily asked

“I’m at the house. Mrs. Anderson isn’t here yet. I guess she had some sort of emergency and didn’t leave until early this morning. I’m waiting for her.”

“Why didn’t you just come home?”

“She called me. Said they were only twenty minutes away. Figured by the time I got home, I’d be turning around, coming back over here.”

“But you’ve been gone for over an hour.”

“I know.” Danielle watched the waves breaking along the sandy shore. “She suggested I wait around back. They have this great swing looking out over the ocean. We need to get Ian one of these, and I’ll go over to his house and use it,” Danielle said with a laugh.

“I still don’t understand why they haven’t showed up if they said they were only twenty minutes away. When did they call?”

“The first time, about ten minutes after I got here. They called again about thirty minutes later. I guess they had some sort of car trouble, but promised to be here in twenty minutes. I told them not to worry. I’m enjoying their back view. It really is amazing, Lily.”

“Okay, I was just getting worried about you.”

“Are you alright? Walt taking care of you?”

“He brought me some coffee after I first got up—at least I assume he brought it. Watching a cup of coffee float through the air is a little unnerving. I keep wondering what Ian would say if he ever walked into the house and witnessed some of Walt’s levitations.”

“He would probably write a book about it.” Danielle chuckled.

“I imagine you’re right.”

“Have you heard from Ian?”

“He’s coming home in the morning. I’ll sure be glad to see him.”

“I tell you what, if Mrs. Anderson doesn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll give her a call and arrange to see the piano another time.”

“Don’t hurry home because of me, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.”

“But you haven’t had breakfast yet. Walt didn’t make your breakfast, did he?”

“Now that would be interesting to watch,” Lily said with a hearty laugh. “Would love to capture that on video and post it on YouTube. Nothing like watching eggs and frying pans floating through the air.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Danielle teased.

“Don’t worry. Anyway, Joanne’s here now. She’s making me breakfast.”

“Wow, I have been here for a while, must be after eight.”

“Almost 8:30.”

“If Joanne’s there I suppose there’s no reason to hurry back. Might as well enjoy the scenery while waiting for Mrs. Anderson. I can’t imagine they’ll be much longer.”

L
ily had just hobbled
from her bedroom into the hallway when she heard someone ring the doorbell.

“I’ll get it,” Joanne called out, scurrying from the kitchen down the hall to the front door. “I have your breakfast almost ready.”

Lily followed Joanne to the door, using a crutch to ease the pressure on her bad leg. When Joanne opened the door, it was Brian Henderson standing on the front porch with two other officers.

“Is Danielle Boatman here?” Brian asked curtly.

“Morning Brian,” Joanne returned, frowning at his impersonal tone. “No, she’s not.”

“Where is she? When did she leave?” he asked.

“She went to look at a piano,” Joanne told him. “I don’t know when she left. She wasn’t here when I arrived this morning.”

“What’s this about?” Lily asked, making her way to the door. She stood by Joanne. Glancing outside, she noticed there were several police cars parked in the street.

“Where is Danielle, Lily?” Brian asked.

“Like Joanne said, she went to look at a piano. What is this about?”

“What time did she leave?”

“Around seven, why? Has something happened?”

“Have you heard from her?” Brian asked.

“Yeah, I talked to her a little while ago.”

“Where was she?”

“Waiting to look at the piano.”

“What piano, where?” he asked.

“Over on the south side of town. What’s going on?”

At Lily’s mention of the south side of town, Brian exchanged knowing glances with the officers by his side.

“What’s this about a piano?” Brian asked.

“Danielle wants to get a piano for Marlow House. She went to look at one this morning. Do you want me to call her?” Lily asked.

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be shopping for pianos?” Brian asked.

“The lady who owns it is from Portland, and she’s meeting Danielle over at her house to show her the piano. Should I call her?” Lily asked again.

“No, I don’t want you to call her. Do you know where she’s going after she looks at the piano?”

“Back here. What is going on Officer Henderson? Why won’t you answer my questions?” Lily asked impatiently.

“I’m not at liberty to say right now, Lily. Do you know when she plans to return here?”

“I imagine within the hour, maybe sooner. You are sort of freaking me out. What the hell is going on?”

“I agree with Lily,” Joanne spoke up. “What’s going on, Brian? Has something happened to Danielle?”

“No, that’s impossible!” Lily shook her head in denial. “I just talked to Danielle ten minutes ago, there can’t be anything wrong. Has there been an accident or something?”

“As far as I know, Danielle is in perfect health.” Brian reached into his pocket and removed a piece of paper. “I have a warrant to search Marlow House.”

Lily turned and began hobbling back to her room.

“Where are you going?” Brian asked sharply.

“To call Danielle and see what in the hell is going on,” Lily called back.

Brian quickly stepped into the house and grabbed hold of Lily’s forearm. She started to stumble, but was saved by the unseen hand of Walt Marlow.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Brian said. “I want you ladies to wait in the library with one of my officers.

Lily looked down at her forearm, which Brian continued to clutch. “Let. Go. Of. My. Arm.”

Before Brian could respond, he flew backwards, landing on his backside. Immediately his hand went to his chin. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear someone had hit him. Yet that was impossible. The other officers rushed into the entry as he stumbled to his feet. They looked around, yet like Brian, they didn’t see anyone other than Lily or Joanne, and it was clear neither of the women had hit Brian.

“Looks like I’m not the only one having a problem walking,” Lily quipped.

“What the hell just happened?” Brian asked, rubbing his chin.

“Looked to me like you just fell backwards,” Joanne said. “Are you alright?”

“I guess so…” Warily, Brian glanced around the entry hall. “But I will still need you ladies to go with an officer into the library.”

“And if we refuse?” Lily asked.

“Then I’ll have to put you under arrest for obstruction of justice.”

“Come Lily,” Joanne reached out and took Lily’s arm. “Let’s just go into the library. I’m sure Danielle will be here any minute and sort this out.”

“Sort what out?” Lily asked, as she let Joanne lead her down the hall. Just as she and Joanne reached the library door, more officers swarmed into the house, some heading up the stairs.

“What in the hell is going on?” Lily muttered. Glancing around, she wondered where Walt was and what he might do to Brian and the other police officers now searching through Marlow House.

D
anielle glanced at her cellphone
. It was almost 9 a.m. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she tried calling Mrs. Anderson again. The call went immediately to voice mail. It was a generic recording, not Mrs. Anderson’s voice. Since Danielle had redialed the number that had called her earlier, she didn’t doubt she had called the correct number.

“Hello, this is Danielle Boatman. I hope everything is okay. I have to get going. I’ve been here all morning and need to go home. When you get this, please call me.”

When Danielle pulled up her street ten minutes later, she was surprised to find four Frederickport police cars parked near Marlow House. One blocked the entrance into her drive. Frowning, she parked her car on the street and got out. Just as she slammed the door shut, she found herself surrounded by police officers—each pointing a gun in her direction. Where they had magically come from, she had no idea. One minute she was alone on the street and in the next a half dozen armed officers, wearing what appeared to be SWAT gear, surrounded her.

Someone screamed for her to freeze and raise her hands. Later she would wonder how he expected her to do both. Eyes wide, she raised her hands above her head. The first officer she recognized was Brian Henderson, who immediately grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her back.

While putting her in handcuffs, Brian said, “Danielle Boatman, you are under arrest for the murder of Stoddard Gusarov.” He then went on to recite her Miranda rights.

Stunned, she stood mute, unable to think of a single sassy zinger to hurl in Brian’s direction. She heard someone yell, “I found it!” Dazed she looked toward the voice and saw an officer pull a gun from the back of the Flex, clutching it with a glove-covered hand. He raised the gun over his head for all to see, before dropping it in an evidence bag.

“Where did that come from?” Danielle muttered. She felt Brian give her a jerk, roughly pulling her toward his police car.

W
alt stood helpless
at the attic window watching Officer Henderson load Danielle into the back seat of the police car. He didn’t regret slugging Brian earlier. If he had it to do over, he would hit him again—but this time harder.

He had pieced together snippets from the officers who had searched the house that morning. From what he gathered, someone had murdered Stoddard Gusarov—the man being charged for Lily’s abduction. He couldn’t imagine why they thought Danielle would do such a thing—why would she? Gusarov had already confessed to most of the charges, and although he and his lawyer were doing some major back peddling, no one thought he would be able to beat the charges. Gusarov’s attorney had already offered Lily a substantial settlement, to which she had so far refused, insisting her first priority was seeing the man put behind bars.

What Walt found especially frustrating was that there was no one to talk with. He couldn’t leave Marlow House, and neither Joanne nor Lily could see or hear him. If Danielle wasn’t able to return to Marlow House, his only option was to jump into her dream or Lily’s. Yet that would only give him information on what was happening. It wouldn’t allow him to help Danielle. And from what he had just witnessed, she needed help.

D
anielle paced back
and forth the length of the interrogation room, refusing to sit at the table or look in the two-way mirror, where she was certain members of the Frederickport Police station watched her from the adjacent office.

“Has she called her attorney, yet?” Chief MacDonald asked Brian Henderson when he walked into the office next to the interrogation room.

“She made her one call, but it wasn’t to her attorney,” Brian said. He and the chief stood side by side, watching Danielle.

“Do you know who she called?”

“I’m pretty sure it was Lily Miller.”

“Has she waived her right to an attorney? Has she said anything?” the chief asked.

“To me?” Brian snorted. “She’s only said one thing since I put her in the police car—that there was only one person at the Frederickport Police Department she’d talk to, but she wouldn’t do it in the interrogation room.”

“Because of the two-way mirror?” the chief asked.

“She didn’t say, but that’s what I assume.”

“Who was it, Morelli? Did you tell her he’s on vacation?”

“No, it wasn’t Morelli.” Brian turned to face the chief. “It’s you. She said she’ll only talk to you, but not in there.”

“Okay, bring her to my office.” The chief headed to the door.

Brian turned from the window to face his boss. “Are you sure?”

The chief paused a moment and looked at Brian. “If she’s willing to talk to one of us—without her attorney present—then I want to hear what she has to say.”

C
hief MacDonald sat
at his desk when Brian led Danielle into his office.

The moment Danielle entered the room she lifted her hands, now cuffed in front of her body and asked the chief, “Is this really necessary?”

“Are they too tight?” he asked.

“They are insulting,” Danielle grumbled, flashing a glare in Brian’s direction.

“Let’s leave them on for now. After all, you are under arrest, and I did agree to meet with you in my office—and not in the interrogation room.” He pointed to a chair.

Danielle nodded toward Brian and said, “If he’s staying, I’m not talking.”

“You can leave now Brian,” MacDonald said, again pointing to the vacant chair. Brian flashed Danielle a harsh look before leaving her alone with the police chief.

“What is this all about?” Danielle asked as she sat down.

“I was under the impression Brian told you, when he put you under arrest.”

“He said I was under arrest for the murder of Stoddard Gusarov.”

“Then you know why you’re here.” MacDonald leaned back in his chair and studied Danielle.

“If the man really was murdered, I certainly had nothing to do with it. Why would I kill him?”

“Revenge for what he did to Lily?” he suggested.

“That’s ridiculous. He was going to jail for that.”

“Then tell me where you were this morning.”

“I was over on Sea Cliff Drive.”

“Sea Cliff Drive? That’s only a couple blocks from the Gusarov Estate.”

“But I didn’t go to the Gusarov Estate. I didn’t even drive down their street. I was at a house over on Sea Cliff, trying to look at a piano.”

“I suppose someone can verify this? How long were you there?”

“I arrived around seven. Left a couple hours later, came right home. Then Brian arrested me.”

“Who can verify you were there? I need someone’s name.”

“Well…” Danielle squirmed nervously in the chair. “They never showed up. They had car trouble, but I talked to them on the phone a couple times. I also talked to Lily once.”

“I don’t understand. You say you went to look at a piano, but no one was there, yet you stayed two hours, and no one can corroborate your story?”

“I know that sounds bad…are you saying Gusarov was murdered today, at the estate?”

“Yes. Sometime between 7:15 and 8:30.”

“Why do you think I did it?”

Chief MacDonald studied Danielle a moment before answering. “Because Stoddard said it was you. He said you shot him—twice. And then when he was dying, you told him you’d be going after his wife next.”

Danielle bolted up straight in her chair, her eyes wide. “Why would he say something like that?”

“I assume because you killed him.”

“I didn’t! I promise! I was at the house on Sea Cliff all morning! I don’t even own a gun.”

“That’s another problem. We found the gun in your car, after you returned to Marlow House.”

Danielle slumped back in her seat, her head spinning. It was true; they had found a gun in her car.
But how did it get there?
she asked herself.

“I swear Chief, I didn’t do this. I don’t even know how to use a gun. Did you check for fingerprints?”

“The gun had been wiped clean.”

“Why would I do that and then keep it?”

“I assume you just hadn’t gotten around to dumping it.”

“I swear, I didn’t do this. I have no idea how that gun got into my car or why Gusarov said it was me. He’s mistaken.”

“The only problem is, he’s dead now.”

Tears filled Danielle’s dark eyes. She felt sick.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me about this piano,” the chief suggested.

Danielle took a deep breath and willed her tears not to fall. “I’ve been thinking about getting a piano for Marlow House, but I wanted an older one—something that would fit in with the décor of the house. So I started asking around, letting people know what I was interested in, in case they knew of one in the area. The other day, a Mrs. Anderson called me. Told me she had a summerhouse on Sea Cliff, with an old piano she had been thinking of getting rid of. She told me she was planning to come in this morning and would be willing to meet me at the house, but only if I could be there at seven, because she had an appointment in Astoria. I agreed.”

“I take it she didn’t show up?”

“I got there around seven. No one was at the house. I was there for about ten minutes when she called, told me she got a late start but should be there within twenty minutes. She suggested I wait in the back—make myself comfortable on her swing—promised she was on her way. I couldn’t see the point of going home and coming right back.”

“So you just waited, all that time?”

“About twenty minutes later, she called again. Said she had car trouble. Apologized. Said it would be another twenty minutes. It was a nice morning, so I just waited. But when she never showed up, I tried calling her, and when she didn’t answer, I decided to come home.”

“And you never saw anyone this morning?”

“No, just Lily at Marlow House.”

“Did you tell anyone about meeting up with Mrs. Anderson to look at her piano?”

“A couple people, but I never mentioned where I was going or whose piano I was looking at—other than Lily. I told her.”

“Was there a reason you didn’t mention who had the piano you were considering?”

“Mrs. Anderson asked me not to say anything. Said she preferred people in town didn’t know her business. I could understand that, so I didn’t mention her name to anyone outside of Lily—and Lily didn’t know who she was anyway.”

“Did you say anything to Ian?”

“Ian? No. He’s been out of town for the week. He left before Mrs. Anderson contacted me.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Anyone who may have seen you? Maybe someone walking their dog, someone on the beach?”

Danielle considered the question a moment and then shook her head. “No. I didn’t see anyone. But even if I had seen someone on the beach—which I didn’t—you can’t really see the swing from the beach because of the bushes.”

“I’d like to check out a few things. I’m going to have Brian take you back to the interrogation room.”

D
anielle waited alone
in the interrogation room for almost an hour before the chief joined her.

The moment he walked into the room, she stood up and asked, “Did you get ahold of Mrs. Anderson?”

“Yes, I did.” MacDonald took a seat and motioned for Danielle to sit down.

“What did she say?” Danielle asked anxiously, returning to the chair.

“You were right. The address you gave me—it is owned by the Andersons. Unfortunately, Mrs. Anderson claims to have never heard of you. Says she doesn’t own a piano and is currently in Florida, attending a funeral. She didn’t recognize the phone number you gave me, and after doing some checking, that number seems to belong to one of those throw away phones you pick up at the grocery store.”

Danielle frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“There is another problem. Wednesday mornings is trash day for that section of town. We got ahold of the men from the truck servicing Stoddard’s street, to find out what they saw. They both described a red SUV with dealer plates. One thought it was a Flex. It was parked down the street from the Gusarov Estate.”

“There are other red SUVs in town.”

“One of the men claims he saw a young woman leaving the estate and getting into the car around 7:30 this morning. According to his identification she was in her late twenties or early thirties, about five feet, five inches tall, brunette, wearing a braid.”