The Ghost of Valentine Past (19 page)

Walt glanced up to the ceiling. “According to David, they're supposed to meet someone. That's why they're still here.”

“Meet who?”

Walt shrugged. “They didn't mention his name. Only that they were waiting for his phone call. David seemed to think it was more important to meet him now that Morris was dead, while Arlene seemed to think now that Morris was dead, there was no reason to meet him.”

“I suppose if—” Danielle stopped talking when she heard the doorbell.

Before answering the door, she peeked outside the parlor window. “It's the chief. He's with Joe and Brian.”

W
hy didn't
David listen to me?
Arlene asked herself. If he had, she wouldn't be sitting alone with Police Chief MacDonald in Marlow House's library. Combing her fingers through her damp hair, Arlene wished she had used her blow dryer before coming downstairs to get a cup of hot tea. Finding the three police officers standing in Marlow House's entry didn't surprise her, considering what had happened the day before. What did surprise her was finding herself alone in the library with the police chief, while David was in another room with the other two officers.

“Will this take long?” she asked. “I really would like to finish getting ready. David and I have a reservation, and I still need to fix my hair. It is Valentine's Day, and well…that is why we came for the weekend.”

“Really? Is that the only reason?” the chief asked.

Releasing hold of a damp curl, Arlene dropped her hand to her lap. “What do you mean?”

“Is there a reason you failed to mention your connection to our victim?”

Arlene stared blankly at the chief. “I have no connection to Peter Morris.”

“Maybe not directly. But your brother certainly did.”

Dejectedly dropping her head, she looked down at her lap and then closed her eyes. “You know.”

“Yes. Why didn't you tell us Cleve Monchique was your brother?”

After releasing a heavy sigh, she lifted her head and met MacDonald's gaze. “Everything happened so fast.”

“Were you involved in the murder of Peter Morris?”

“No!” Arlene adamantly shook her head. “I had nothing to do with his death! I was as surprised as anyone to see him lying on the floor—obviously murdered. No, absolutely not!”

“So why didn't you tell us Cleve was your brother?”

Arlene shrugged. “I never lied. I answered all your questions. I was afraid if I told you about my brother…I didn't want to get involved.”

“I'm surprised you stayed and didn't leave after the murder. I know if I was on a romantic vacation and something like that happened, I'd check out early.”

“I wanted to,” Arlene muttered. She looked down to her hands, which now fidgeted nervously in her lap.

“Why did you and Mr. Hilton really come to Frederickport?”

“We told you…just a holiday…” Arlene whispered.

“I think it's time you be honest with me. After all, David is in the other room with Officers Morelli and Henderson, and I'm certain they'll convince him to explain why the two of you really came here. We also know about Helen Hilton.”

“Am I under arrest?” she asked.

“No.”

“So, I'm free to go?”

“Yes. But that doesn't mean I can't decide later to bring you in for questioning—at the police station.”

D
own the hall
in the parlor, David Hilton stiffly perched on a chair facing Joe and Brian, who sat together on the small sofa. David's eyes were unable to keep from looking at the floor, where just the day before the grizzly sight of Peter Morris, his throat slashed, sprawled before the sofa.

“Do we have to do this in here?” David asked.

“Does it bother you, knowing Peter Morris was killed in here?” Brian asked.

David shifted nervously in his chair. “I've never seen a dead person before. And certainly, never one who'd been attacked like that. Hard not to think about it.” He looked up into the officer's face. “Why am I here?”

“Can you explain why you never disclosed your past differences with Peter Morris,” Brian asked.

“I assume you mean the lawsuit against Earthbound Spirits.”

“Yes. Don't you think that's something you should have mentioned?” Joe asked.

“Why? It's public knowledge. I didn't hide my name. Figured if you wanted to ask me something about it, you would.”

“So, you're saying you weren't concealing—by omission—the grievance you had with Peter Morris and his organization?” Joe asked.

“If you're implying I had something to do with his death—that I was hiding the fact our family was bilked out of our rightful inheritance by those conmen to cover up my motive for wanting the man dead, you're totally off base. I didn't want to see Morris dead. I wanted to bring the SOB down and hold him accountable for all the damage he's done to countless people.”

“People like Arlene's brother?” Brian asked.

David visibly tensed for a brief moment and then relaxed and leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving the officers. “You know that too.” Absently combing his fingers through his hair he said, “Arlene didn't have anything to do with Morris' murder either.”

“But you both had a motive to want the man dead,” Brian reminded.

“Like I said, we didn't want him dead. We wanted to hold him accountable. I wanted to see the SOB taken off to prison. I imagine right now, the current powers to-be at Earthbound Spirits are hailing this as some celebration—their beloved leader has been released from this world and moved onto paradise. It reinforces their sick message, that even if something horrible happens—like your throat gets slashed—there is reason for celebration, providing you embrace the teaching of Earthbound Spirits. And oh, by the way, don't forget to leave us your money.”

“Why don't you tell us why you and Arlene really came to Marlow House.”

“
I
met David online
,” Arlene explained. “This was about nine months ago. “I was trying to find out more about Earthbound Spirits. We met on a forum. He told me about his grandmother, how she'd been brainwashed by the group.”

“Your brother was involved with Earthbound Spirits for a number of years; had you looked into the group prior to this?”

“Not really. I didn't even know Cleve was my brother until about ten years ago, when his mother told him she'd gotten pregnant from a married man, and the father he thought was his, wasn't. His world sort of fell apart, and he tracked down his biological father—my dad.”

“How did that work out?”

“Mother already knew about the affair and the child. When Cleve found that out, I think it bothered him more than had Dad kept it a secret. I always felt that in Cleve's mind he wanted to imagine himself this love child—the baby my father bitterly gave up to save his marriage and protect the child he already had—me.”

“I'm not sure why that scenario would matter one way or another.”

“Since Mother already knew about the affair and obviously forgave Dad, Cleve didn't understand why Dad hadn't made any effort to be in his life. And when he met Dad, well, my father's not the most affectionate of men.”

“Did they ever come to terms with each other? Have some sort of relationship?”

“No. Not really. But, after I learned about Cleve, I reached out to him. Both of us had grown up believing we were an only child, but we weren't. We had each other.”

“From what I read on your Facebook page, it didn't seem like you saw him a lot.”

“Ahh…so that's how you figured this out. Well, they say we should be careful what we post online.” Arlene smiled sadly. “No, we didn't see each other much, but we kept in contact. When he first started getting involved with Earthbound Spirits, and he told me about it, I got the feeling he was acting out—joining a cult to spite Dad.”

“Why would that spite your father?”

“Dad's pretty involved in his church. I think Cleve saw that as hypocritical, my father the Christian Deacon who denied his own bastard son for most of that son's life.”

“Did you try to get your brother away from the group?”

Arlene shook her head. “Not at first. At first, I thought it was harmless. After all, what he shared with me seemed pretty innocuous. I figured, if it made Cleve happy. But then, when we would see each other, I noticed he changed. He started working for them, and something about his entire demeanor seemed off to me. I suppose, if we had seen each other more frequently, in person, I would've tried to do some sort of an intervention. As it is, I was too late.”

W
alt felt like a badminton birdie
, bouncing between the parlor and library, listening in on the interrogations. Although, he imagined if Danielle were to ask the chief if Arlene and David were being interrogated, he would tell her they were simply being questioned, and either one could leave if they wanted to. At least, that was the impression MacDonald and his men conveyed to Danielle's two guests.

So far, Walt had learned Cleve was Arlene's half brother. He was tempted to pop out for a moment and tell Danielle that tidbit, but he was afraid he'd miss something. He also learned Arlene and David were not romantically involved. That did not surprise Walt. Since keeping a closer watch of the two, not once had he been forced to vacate their room due to amorous activity. In his day, if you checked into an inn with a lovely young woman, most of that time was spent involved in activities requiring far less clothing. He didn't imagine things had changed that much since he had been alive.

With a wave of his hand, Walt summonsed a cigar and silently puffed, as he listened to what David had to say.

“We were supposed to meet someone in town tonight, that's the real reason we came to Frederickport,” David finally confessed.

Joe glanced around the room and took a sniff. With a frown, he dismissed the sudden scent of smoking tobacco and focused his attention back on David. “Who were you meeting?”

“A private detective we've been working with, trying to find the evidence to bring down Earthbound Spirits, once and for all.”

“The detective's name?” Joe asked.

“Logan Mitcham. He has an office in Portland.”

Brian and Joe exchanged quick glances before Brian asked, “When is this meeting to take place…and where?”

“It's tentatively set up for tonight at 7:00 at the pier.” David glanced at his watch. “But, he was supposed to call us, confirm that everything was still on. If you believe we had something to do with Peter Morris' murder, I suppose you could come with us, talk to Mr. Mitcham. He'll be able to confirm that's the reason we're in Frederickport—not to kill anyone.”

“Why stay at Marlow House? Why come to Frederickport at all?” Brian asked.

“Mr. Mitcham told us he'd uncovered some damning information on the group, something that would guarantee jail time for all those at the top of the Earthbound Spirits food chain. But he had one more piece of paper to get his hands on, which he could only do this afternoon. We planned to meet tonight, where he'd turn over all the evidence, which we were then going to hand over to the local police department. To you.”

“And you haven't heard from him?” Joe asked.

David shook his head. “No. And that concerns me, in light of Peter Morris' murder.”

“How so?” Brian asked.