The Ghost of Valentine Past (21 page)

“Umm… I was talking to myself. Did they take Logan Mitcham into custody?”

David shook his head. “No. He didn't show up.”

“Still no word on where he might be?”

“None.” David said curtly. “I was wondering, would you rent me the room Chris was using? If there're no sheets on the bed, I'll be happy to put them on myself.”

“Looks like they've decided to end their lover's charade,” Walt observed, before waving his hand to summons a lit cigar.

H
olding
his forehead in the palm of his hand, Adam impatiently motioned for the server to come to his table. He had just sat down a moment earlier.

“What's the hurry, Adam?” she asked, order book in hand.

“Get me a bloody Mary,” he groaned.

“Rough night last night?” she teased.

“Just shut up, and get me one.”

The waitress didn't seem offended by his retort. Instead, she walked away chuckling.

Outside the restaurant, Bill Jones tossed his cigarette butt to the sidewalk before pushing through the front door. With a newspaper in hand, he glanced around, looking for Adam.

“Damn, you look like hell,” Bill told Adam when he reached his table.

“You should see what it looks like inside here.” Adam motioned to his forehead. “A hell of a lot worse.”

“That bad? What did you drink, anyway?”

“The question should be, what didn't I drink?”

Bill chuckled. “What was the occasion? I know, you were drowning your sorrows. No Valentine's Day date.” Seeing the waitress coming toward them, Bill turned one of the two clean coffee mugs on the table, right side up in its saucer.

The waitress reached their table, carrying a coffee pot in one hand and a bloody Mary in the other. She set the cocktail in front of Adam. “Here's the dog that bit ya.” After filling Bill's cup with coffee, she told them she would be back in a minute to take their order.

“Thanks,” Adam said before taking a swig.

“Feel better?” Bill asked when Adam set the drink down.

“No. But I'll tell you this, I wasn't drowning my sorrows, I was celebrating. And it was worth every bit of this headache.” A shot of pain stabbed Adam's right temple, making him cringe. “Or…maybe not.” He took another sip of the drink.

“Oh that's right, you had that closing yesterday. On the beach cottage.”

“Something better.” Adam grinned.

“Better than a closing? Never thought I'd hear you say that.”

“I had an accepted offer—on the Gusarov Estate.”

Bill let out a low whistle. “Holy crap. That'll be some commission!”

“You're telling me. This is turning out to be a great year.”

“Where did you get the buyer?”

“Same one who bought the cottage.”

“Boatman's friend, huh?” Bill set his mug on the table and opened the morning paper. “Can't believe there was a murder at Marlow House. That Boatman is a magnet for trouble.”

“Danielle's all right.” Adam nursed his drink.

“I'm sure you're thinking that about now, considering she's the one throwing all this real estate business your way.”

“I used to think she was pretty ditzy but…”

“Ditzy?” Bill laughed. “The woman leaves the television on to keep her neighbor's dog company.”

Adam shrugged. “Lots of people treat their pets like people.”

“She's a space cadet.”

“Well, she could've hung our butts for breaking into Marlow House, and all she did was make us fix the window.”

Bill peered over the paper. “Who fixed the window?”

“Okay, so, you fixed it. But I helped pay for it.”

“Whatever…” Bill shrugged and continued to read the paper.

“Anything new on the murder?” Adam asked.

“Says here they're looking for a person of interest. Some private investigator. Logan Mitcham.”

“Never heard of him.” Adam took another sip of his cocktail.

“They got a picture of him.”

“Let me see.” Adam reached for the paper.

“No one I recognize,” Bill said after turning the paper over to Adam.

“Damn, I do.” Adam said.

“Really? Where do you know him from?”

“I don't really know him. But he works for Peter Morris.”

“You mean he
worked
for Peter Morris.” Bill smirked.

“Yeah, whatever. I wonder if they're looking at him for the murder, or just for information?”

“Doesn't say. Just says person of interest.”

“
Y
ou don't look very
good,” Danielle said after she opened the front door for Adam Nichols, later that morning.

“Yeah, I've heard that before.” Adam said.

“Come on in, want some coffee?”

“Might as well. Unless you have any tomato juice and vodka.”

“Out celebrating last night?”

“How did you know?” He followed her into the kitchen.

“Just a guess.”

Ten minutes later, Adam sat with Danielle at the kitchen table drinking his second bloody Mary of the day while Danielle poured cream into her coffee.

“I read the paper this morning, about the cops looking for Logan Mitcham. Wondered if you knew what was up with that.”

“Why, do you know him?” Danielle sipped her coffee.

“Not personally. Didn't know his name until I read the paper. Just that he worked for Morris.”

Danielle paused mid-sip and stared at Adam. “What do you mean he worked for Morris?”

“Just that. I saw him a few times with Morris. And I was told he worked for him.”

“Worked for him, how?” Danielle frowned.

“That's sort of what I wondered. I read this morning, he's a private investigator. Wondered why a private investigator would be working for Morris.”

“Interesting,” Danielle murmured. She looked up at Adam. “Have you said anything to Arlene about this?”

“Arlene? No why? What does she have to do with Mitcham?”

“Well, for one thing, you told me you and Arlene knew each other back when Isabella was involved in Earthbound Spirits. Wondered if Arlene ever saw Mitcham with Morris.”

Adam frowned. “I doubt it. Why?”

Danielle stood up. “Come on Adam, we need to go to the police station.”

“Police station, why?”

“Come on, before Arlene comes downstairs.”

“
T
his really doesn't make
sense,” MacDonald murmured. He sat in his office with Adam and Danielle.

“I really don't know what this is about, Chief. I was minding my own business, nursing a hang over, when I saw this guy's picture in the paper. Figured Danielle would know the story, and I foolishly stopped by Marlow House to ask. I should've known better,” Adam grumbled. “She drags me down here.”

Ignoring Adam's rant, MacDonald asked, “Are you sure he worked for Morris?”

“Pretty sure. I don't think Isabella would have lied to me about it.”

“Isabella told you?” the chief asked.

“Yeah. A couple times we ran into Morris in Portland. He was with the guy from the paper. The second time we ran into him, I asked Isabella who he was. She said he worked for Earthbound Spirits. I figured he was some accountant or something.”

A
rlene was loading
her suitcase into the trunk of David's car when Danielle and Adam returned from the police station. Adam silently watched Arlene as Danielle pulled the Flex into the driveway.

“So the little romantic weekend comes to a close,” Adam murmured under his breath.

“Not sure how romantic it all was. David slept downstairs last night.” Danielle put her car in park.

“Trouble in paradise?” Adam asked.

“I don't mean to be gossiping about my guests, but I'm sure all of this is going to come out in the newspaper anyway.”

Adam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“David and Arlene didn't come here for some romantic weekend. They were here to meet a private detective who was supposed to hand over evidence on Earthbound Spirits.”

“Damn…and then Morris was murdered.”

Still sitting in the car, Danielle looked over at Adam. “Why didn't you say anything about Arlene being Cleve's sister?”

Adam leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Resting a wrist over his forehead he mumbled, “No more gin for me.”

“You aren't answering my question.”

Opening one eye, Adam turned his head and peered at Danielle. “I didn't see the point. All it would do was get the cops to spend all their time focusing on Arlene and Hilton, instead of looking for the real killer. Look what happened to us, when Cheryl was killed.”

“Didn't you for a moment wonder if either Arlene or David was involved?”

“I don't know Hilton, but Arlene? No way. And obviously the cops must agree with me or she wouldn't be packing up to head out of town right now.”

“The police probably figure they know where to find her.”

“So, what happened to the evidence they came here for?”

“The man who was supposed to bring it to them was the private eye whose picture was in the paper this morning. So, no, they didn't get their evidence.”

“Logan Mitcham? But he worked for Morris. Are you saying he turned on his boss?”

“Oh yeah. And when he turned, he really turned.”

“Are you suggesting…”

“The cops have evidence that Mitcham may have killed Peter Morris,” Danielle told him.

“Damn…” Adam shook his head. “What kind of evidence?”

“I can't say, but that's the real reason they're looking for him.”

“And Arlene was working with him?”

“She and David had hired him to look into Earthbound Spirits. I doubt she knew he worked for Morris.”

“Damn…” Adam unhooked his seatbelt and opened the car door.

Just as Danielle got out of the Flex, she noticed Arlene coming down the driveway.

“Danielle!” Arlene called out. “David and I are…” she paused when she saw Adam getting out of the red Flex.

“Hello, Arlene,” Adam greeted.

“Adam…hello.” Arlene looked from Adam to Danielle. “I just wanted to tell you, David went to fill up the car with gas, and when he comes back, we're going to finish bringing the rest of our things to the car and take off.”

Before Danielle could respond, Adam asked, “Danielle, do you mind if I talk to Arlene alone?”

Danielle glanced warily from Adam to Arlene. “Umm…okay…I'll be in the house.”