The Ghost of Valentine Past (26 page)

“What are you going to do?” Kelly found herself trembling.

“I don't have a choice. You're the only one who can link me to JusticeNow.”

Kelly shook her head. “That's not true. Mitcham kept files on his clients. It's only a matter of time until the police find your file, and I'm sure he made a note of your real name.”

Baily smiled. “Logan was so foolish. After I shot him, I went back to his car. Do you know what he had in his trunk? He kept a file box with all the clients he intended to blackmail. I took the files with me. Burned them. Those clients should thank me.”

“Please don't do this, Baily!”

“
I
don't believe
you made her do this!” Chris angrily railed at MacDonald. Hands on hips he looked from the chief, who sat behind his desk, to Danielle, who had just returned from the morgue.

“He didn't make me do anything, it was my idea. And how did you know I was here?”

“I stopped by your house. Walt told me you'd come down to the police station to check on the status of the case. You know, Walt's not going to be happy with you when I tell him.”

“I don't get it. What did Danielle do that was so wrong? You talked to Mitcham's spirit at the beach,” MacDonald asked.

Chris faced the chief. “Seeking out spirits—especially potentially hostile ones—can be as dangerous as using a Ouija board.”

MacDonald looked from Chris to Danielle. “Is that true?”

Danielle shrugged. “I think that might be overstating it a bit.” She sat down.

“How did Harvey and Stoddard work out for you?” Chris asked.

“Okay, I agree, they were annoying.”

“Annoying? Walt told me how Harvey almost got you killed and Stoddard tried to!”

Danielle frowned. “You and Walt have sure been chatting it up a lot lately.”

“And even if they aren't dangerous, if they want something from you, it can be the devil to get them to leave you alone. Look at Trudy! She wouldn't give me a moment of peace until I did what she wanted.”

“Okay, okay, you've made you point,” Danielle sighed. She looked up at Chris and flashed him her sweetest smile. “And we really don't have to tell Walt about this, do we?” Chris' only response was a noncommittal grunt.

“Anyway they're gone now. Why don't you sit down?”

Begrudgingly, Chris took a seat.

“What do you mean gone?” MacDonald asked.

“When I first walked in, they were doing a lot of yelling—at each other. I managed to get a little information out of them, but then, Mitcham looked at Morris and told him he didn't intend to spend his eternity haunting a morgue with Morris, and he just—was gone.”

“Where did he go?” MacDonald asked.

Danielle shrugged. “I assume he tried to move onto wherever he's supposed to go, which, as I always say in cases like this, may not be somewhere he really wants to go.”

“What about Morris?” Chris asked.

“After Mitcham left, Morris said there was nothing left for him here, and he just faded away. Personally, I think he did the fade thing for dramatic effect. Unlike Mitcham, who, when he decided he was outa here, just vanished—poof—like a magician in a disappearing act.”

“You said you learned something?” the chief asked.

“Mitcham figured so many people hated Morris that it would be easy to get them to hire a hit man. Imagine, having a dozen people paying you for the same hit. Of course, all the clients think they're the only one, which is important, because he intended to blackmail the clients after he took their money for the hit.”

“Are you saying more than one person paid him to kill Morris?” Chris asked.

“I guess hating someone doesn't necessarily mean you're willing to have them killed. Only one of Mitcham's clients hired him to kill Morris. That's the one who killed him.”

“Will Wayne claimed to be blackmailed,” the chief muttered, speaking more to himself.

Danielle shook her head. “I don't think Will is the one who hired the hit. Mitcham intended to blackmail all his clients who hated Morris, figuring at least some of them would pay up. My bet is, he mailed Will that letter right after he killed Morris, and before he met with the one client who'd hired him for the hit. If you go to Mitcham's other clients who had a grudge against Morris, you'll probably find they received the same blackmail letter.”

“
T
his does not feel right
. Kelly has been gone for more than an hour now,” Ian told Brian and Joe. “Even if she had just grabbed some cash and run out to the store to pick up milk, she would have been back by now.” The three men stood downstairs, inside Mitcham's condo. Brian's cellphone began to ring. Seeing it was the chief calling, he excused himself and went into the other room to answer the call.

“Hey, Chief. Kelly still hasn't shown up.”

“Brian, I think your hunch was right. If Mitcham was paid to kill Morris, the person who paid for the hit is the same person who killed Mitcham.”

Brian glanced to the doorway leading to where Ian and Joe waited. “It that's true, it looks like she may have panicked and fled. But I don't think she'll get that far without her purse or phone.”

After finishing his call, Brian returned to Ian and Joe. “Ian, when Kelly was researching Earthbound Spirits for you, she regularly visited a cult watch website.”

“Yeah, I know. What about it?”

“She had two separate accounts on that website.”

Ian frowned. “What do you mean? She didn't have two accounts.”

“Yes, she posted as KellyB and JusticeNow,” Brian told him.

Ian shook his head. “Kelly wasn't JusticeNow, Baily Bradford was.”

“Baily Bradford?” Joe asked.

“Yeah. I thought Kelly told you about her roommate.”

“She did, but what does that have to do with this Baily Bradford?” Joe asked.

“Baily is Candice's sister.”

“Why didn't Kelly tell us about JusticeNow?” Joe asked.

“Why would she? There were dozens of posters on that site with grievances against Morris. And Kelly was never a hundred percent certain it was Baily, she never interacted with her on the site, but she did read all her posts, which was why she was fairly certain who it was.”

“It's true,” Joe mumbled. “There were never any postings between KellyB and JusticeNow. I figured that was because they were the same person.”

“Why are you asking about JusticeNow? Does this have something to do with where Kelly went?”

“What's Kelly's relationship with this Baily?” Brian asked.

Ian shrugged. “I don't think you can say they have a relationship, per se. Their only connection was Candice, and until they ran into each other before Christmas, I don't think Kelly had seen Baily since Candice's funeral, and that was over seven years ago.”

“Do you know where Baily lives?” Brian asked.

“I believe she's still living at her parent's estate. Why?”

I
f she peed
on the sofa's brocade upholstery, would it be a clue to lead investigators to her body? That was just one of the crazy thoughts popping into Kelly's head as she watched a pistol wielding Baily pace the living room, trying to decide what to do—kill Kelly here, or take her somewhere else to do the dastardly deed.

Peeing on the sofa would be fairly easy, considering Kelly had never had to use the bathroom so bad. Yet her discomfort was the least of her problems. The only reason she hadn't started screaming for Maria—who Kelly assumed must be the maid—was that Baily had threatened to kill Maria too. Did Kelly want that on her conscience?

There was no clock in the living room, but Kelly guessed she'd been at the Bradford Estate for at least an hour, maybe longer. She was hoarse from trying to convince Baily not to do this thing—after all, they both loved Candice. What would Candice think?

The second time she asked that question, Kelly remembered the sad truth about her dear friend. Candice was always a little unbalanced, which made her easy prey for Peter Morris. Kelly had always assumed Candice's issues stemmed from abuse at the hands of her mentally ill mother. But watching Baily, Kelly came to realize mental illness ran in the Bradford family.

“Stand up,” Baily demanded, the small pistol pointed at Kelly's face.

“What are you going to do?” Kelly slowly stood.

“Your car's parked outside. We're going to move it.”

“If you just let me go, I promise, I won't say anything. And even if I did, I couldn't prove anything!”

“Shut up and get going!”

“What about Maria? She might see us,” Kelly reminded.

“I'll worry about Maria, just get moving.”

I
n the back
seat of the police car, Ian gave Joe and Brian directions to the Bradford Estate. They only planned to drive by, see if Kelly's car was parked somewhere in the neighborhood. The moment they turned down the street leading to the Bradford Estate, they spied not only Kelly's car, but also Kelly with another woman, walking behind the vehicle. The woman made no effort to conceal the small pistol she had pointed at Kelly's back. It appeared the woman was leading Kelly to the driver's side of the car.

Everything seemed to happen in an instant. Both Kelly and her kidnapper noticed the approaching police car at the same time. They each had the same reaction—run. Kelly ran toward the police car, while the gun-wielding woman fled back to her house.

“
P
erhaps things will settle
down in Frederickport, now that Earthbound Spirits' corruption has been exposed.” Marie Nichols said as she filled Danielle and Lily's teacups. The three women sat around Marie's kitchen table.

“Logan Mitcham certainly compiled enough on Morris over the years to put him away for decades—if he was still alive to face the charges,” Lily noted.

Marie absently tapped her teacup's rim with a fingertip. “I just wonder what happened to all Earthbound Spirits' money. I find it hard to believe there's nothing left.”

Danielle sipped her tea and then said, “From what I understand, loans were taken out on properties they owned, poor investments made, and someone from the organization may have embezzled funds.”

“I read in the newspaper about Mr. Mitcham's clients receiving blackmail letters,” Marie said.

“Yeah, they found the original file on his computer, so there's no doubt he sent them before he was murdered,” Danielle said. “I guess both Arlene and David had a letter waiting for them when they got home, and even Heather received one. Hers was delivered to her house. She didn't see it until she got back in town on Tuesday.”

Marie leaned across the table and patted Lily's hand. “How is Ian's sister doing after her horrid ordeal?”

Lily smiled. “Kelly is fine. Which is saying something, considering how Ian tore into her for being so reckless. They were all lucky that woman tripped before she got back into her house, and the police were able to apprehend her without anyone getting hurt. If she'd made it inside and locked the door, it could have turned into a hostage situation, because the housekeeper was inside.”

“Horrid, just horrid,” Marie muttered.

“Well, one thing Kelly got out of this: Joe Morreli.” Lily giggled.

“Joe Morelli?” Marie looked with curiosity from Lily to Danielle

“Kelly's developed quite the crush on the sergeant. According to Ian, when they rescued her, she fell apart and instead of running to him for comfort, she threw herself into Joe's arms. Apparently, saving the damsel in distress got Joe looking in her direction. She's spending this weekend with her brother, so she and Joe can go out on their first date,” Danielle explained.

With a sympathetic smile, Marie reached over and patted Danielle's hand. “I suppose it really is over for you and Joe.”

Danielle sipped her tea. “And I couldn't be happier.”

“I'm not sure I am,” Lily grumbled. “I like Kelly and everything, but why can't Joe go to Portland to take her out?”

“No,” Marie said primly, “this is much more proper.”

Lily glanced askance at the elderly woman and then looked to Danielle, who grinned mischievously.

“Of course, this means there's still hope for you and my grandson.”

Now it was Lily's turn to grin.

F
lames blazed
in the nearby bedroom fireplace while Danielle curled up on the small sofa reading a book.

“We need to talk,” Lucas announced when he entered the bedroom.

“I was beginning to think you'd moved on.” Closing the book, she set it on her lap and sat up in the sofa, her eyes never leaving the image of her late husband.

“I know it's time for me to move on, but first, we need to talk.” Lucas stood before the fire, looking down at Danielle.

“I'm not sure what we really have to talk about.”

“When I died, I imagine there were many things you wanted to say to me.”

Danielle smiled sadly. “There were, but I've moved on, and so should you.”

“But you see, there are things I need to tell you—things you have a right to know.”

Danielle studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, go on.”

“I've never stopped loving you. I admit I had an affair, but she wasn't my lover. I would never use the word love—in any form—to describe our relationship.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was me being a fool, getting caught up in the success, losing all perspective of the dreams we once shared. She initiated the affair, and please don't imagine for a moment I'm attempting to blame her for my indiscretions. I'm not. I was flattered, and at the time, you seemed to disapprove of everything I wanted—the new house, the car, even our portrait.”

“I've just never been into all that material stuff,” Danielle said.

“I know. And frankly, that's one of the things I always loved about you.”

“I don't understand; then why? Why did you do it?”

“I don't know.” Lucas began to pace the room. “But when the portrait arrived—and I looked up at us—at you—and I realized in that moment how much I loved you, the last thing I wanted to do was destroy our marriage or hurt you. The night of the accident, I told Kelsey it was over between her and me. I told her I loved my wife, that I always had. I wanted to make our marriage work, I wanted to change—change back into the man my wife used to respect.”

“It wasn't that I didn't respect you,” Danielle whispered.

Lucas stopped pacing and looked down at Danielle. “I didn't respect me, Danielle.”

“What did she say?”

“She was furious. Grabbed hold of the steering wheel, and after that, well, everything got confused after that.”

“Kelsey caused the accident?”

Lucas nodded. “I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I'll always love you, Danielle.”

A tear slipped down her face, yet she didn't know what to say.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, and you don't have to say anything back. You've been mad at me for over a year, and I don't expect your forgiveness. Perhaps someday.”

“I forgave you long ago, Lucas.”

He smiled. “I want you to be happy, Danielle. I want you to find a man who loves you as you deserve to be loved.”

Lucas reached out to Danielle and whispered, “Be happy.” He disappeared.

T
he scent
of pine filled her nostrils. Danielle opened her eyes. She sat on the front porch of a rustic log cabin, surrounded by evergreen trees. Turning her head to the right, she looked into Walt's blue eyes. The two sat together on a porch swing.

Danielle breathed deeply and smiled. “Those trees smell so real.”

“You can thank Heather for that,” Walt told her.

“Heather?”

“It's that oil she got you to put in that contraption before you went to bed.”

“You mean the diffuser?” Danielle took another whiff.

Walt shrugged. “I suppose that's what it's called. As long as she doesn't use one of those voodoo spirit chasing oils.”

“I seriously don't think essential oils can really cast out spirits.” Danielle smiled and leaned back, her right foot gently pushing the swing to and fro. She stared out to the forest.

“I guess Lucas left? For good?”

She glanced briefly at Walt. “How did you know?”

“He stopped by the attic on his way to—to wherever he's going—to say goodbye.”

“Really? I didn't realize you two had become chummy.”

“We hadn't, but we were aware of each other.”

“Hmm…”

“He told me he still loves you, that part of him wanted to stay and be with you. But that even if you wanted him to stay, it wouldn't be fair to you.”

“Hmm…”

“Danielle?”

“Yes?”

“Did you want him to stay?”

Danielle sighed. “I was thinking about that a while back. How it would be possible for someone like me to stay with my deceased husband—if that were something he and I wanted. And then I remembered, in twenty years I will be fifty—I will look fifty, well, maybe early forties if I take care of myself—but he would continue to look the same age as he was when he died. As the years go by, I would get older, while he remained frozen in time.”

“You didn't answer my question; did you want him to stay?”

Danielle looked at Walt, her expression solemn. “And then I realized; it's the same with you. You're eternally 27 while I'll continue to age.”

“That's not necessarily true.” In the next instant, Walt looked thirty years older.

Danielle smiled. “You age well, but this is a dream. If you want, you could make yourself look like an elephant.”

“No Danielle; even when you're awake I believe I could appear older if I choose to.”

“Maybe, Walt. But it's just an illusion…this is all an illusion.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Finally, Walt said, “Lucas told me about his affair, about how he never stopped loving you. He hopes you'll forgive him someday.”

“I already have, months ago. Although, now that I've talked to him, realized he did still love me, in spite of his choices, it's different somehow.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I thought I didn't. But now…well, it's like I can be free to remember him with love. It always hurt so much to believe our love, our life together, had all been a lie. But now…well, it's like I lost him, got him back, and then lost him again.”

“He told me not to interfere with your happiness.”

Danielle turned to Walt with a frown, “He what?”

“He told me he didn't understand why I hadn't moved on, but that if I chose to stay, I needed to make sure I didn't interfere with your happiness.”

“What are you saying?”

“I wondered…is my being here interfering with your happiness? Should I move on?”

“Do you want to?”

“What do you want, Danielle?”

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Always.”

“You're one of my best friends. I know when I first moved here, I wanted nothing more than for you to continue your journey. And I suppose in some ways, it's selfish of me to want you to hang around. But when I feel that way, I remember what you always tell me: that wherever you go next, it will still be there when you're ready to move on.”

“But you didn't want Lucas to stay, even though you might still love him.”

“Oh come on Walt, how would that work out? My deceased husband hovering around while I'm going on with my life. I can't even imagine how awkward it might be if I decided…well, you know…to…umm…be with a man. I mean really, with my husband lurking around?” Danielle cringed.

“May I remind you, it'll still be awkward if you choose to do that here.”

Danielle grinned. “But Walt, you're confined to Marlow House, while Lucas wasn't. Trust me; I won't be having a sleep over at Marlow House.”