The Ghost Who Wasn't (Haunting Danielle Book 3) (10 page)

“
I
think
we can let Ms. Boatman go home now,” the chief said when he barged in the interrogation room the next moment. Startled, Brian stood.

Danielle glanced from Brian to the chief. Smiling, she picked up her cellphone and said, “Thanks Chief. I’ll need my keys, please. Joe took them when he took my phone.”

“Certainly,” the chief said. “If you wait here a moment, I’ll have him bring them to you, and he can drive you to pick up your car.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I just want my keys.”

“No problem Ms. Boatman, Officer Morelli will take you to your car.” The chief looked at Brian and said, “Brian, would you come with me?”

“What was that all about?” Brian asked when he and the chief were alone in the hallway.

“You weren’t accomplishing anything in there. She obviously knows Stoddard doesn’t want the media attention.”

“Does that mean we let her harass Stoddard just because she’s got money?”

“No, we arrest her if she breaks the law again.”

D
anielle anxiously paced
the interrogation room, waiting for Joe.

“Did you bring my keys?” she asked the moment he walked through the doorway.

“Yes. I’ll take you to your car.”

“Please give me my keys.”

“I said I’d give them to you. Let’s go. I’ll take you to your car first.”

“Why won’t you give them to me now?” Danielle said angrily.

“I don’t know why you’re getting upset.” His tone of voice reminded Danielle of a parent trying to calm an irrational child—which only heightened her irritation.

Tucking her phone in her jean’s back pocket, she put out her hand. “Just give me my keys, please. The chief said you would.”

“And I will, when we get to your car.”

“How do I know that? You also said you’d look at the woman in the hospital bed to see if it was Lily. But you didn’t even look at her face!”

“Please, let’s not go into that again.”

“Give me my keys!”

Reluctantly, Joe dug the key ring from his pocket and handed it to Danielle. She snatched it from his hand and pushed her way past Joe to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Joe asked, trailing behind Danielle.

“That’s really none of your business Sargent Morelli,” Danielle said as she walked down the hall toward the front area of the police department. She pushed her way through the doorway leading to the public waiting area.

“You’re being ridiculous. Let me drive you to your car,” Joe said, following her to the door.

Danielle stopped in her tracks and spun around, facing him. “Just how am I being ridiculous?”

“For one thing you’re acting like a stubborn child, insisting on walking to your car, when I’m willing to take you.”

“That is so typical of you, Joe Morelli, jumping to conclusions.” Danielle took hold of the door leading to the street.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Joe asked.

“You assume I’m refusing a ride from you because I’m being stubborn and childlike. Not once do you consider maybe I don’t need a ride.”

“I know you’re capable of walking. Not sure what you’re trying to prove, but it’s a long walk from here.”

“Once again—jumping to conclusions. I don’t need your ride because I already have one.” With that said, Danielle stepped outside to the sidewalk.

Joe followed Danielle outside and watched as she walked down the sidewalk, not looking back. To his surprise, a car pulled up and stopped. Danielle got into the car.

“Adam Nichols? That’s who she called? Not her attorney?” Joe mumbled to himself.

“Thanks for doing this,” Danielle said as she got into the car.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised you called me,” Adam said from the driver’s seat.

Danielle buckled her seatbelt and looked back at the police station, where Joe stood, still staring at her. She glanced from Joe—to Adam. It seemed just yesterday she thought Joe might be the one, the one to replace the void after Lucas. He was handsome, honest, caring—while Adam was the epitome of the stereotypical used car salesman—slick, smooth, not quite honest—and yet it was Adam she had turned to.

“Yeah, maybe I need to broaden my acquaintances in Frederickport,” Danielle said dryly, leaning back in the seat.

“That might be a good idea.” Adam laughed as he sped off.

“I can either give you a check, or we can stop at the ATM after I pick up my purse,” Danielle suggested.

“I don’t want your hundred bucks.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah, I’d rather know what kind of trouble you got yourself into this time.”

Danielle considered his request for a moment, then realized the story of her escapade was probably already circulating through the station and by tomorrow would be buzzing through the local coffee shops.

“I broke into the Gusarov Estate.”

“Whoa, the Gusarov Estate? Why would you do something like that?”

“I’ll tell you...but you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you can say anything to make me think you’re crazier than I already do.”

Danielle laughed. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

Adam shrugged, waiting for her explanation.

“They have Lily.”

Adam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They didn’t find Isabella at that rest stop—they found Lily. She’s the one in the coma, not Isabella.”

“How would that even happen?”

“I’m not sure, but I have a theory. Lily was on her way home, she pulled into that rest stop. Someone attacked her, stole her car, left her for dead in the desert.”

“But they identified her body before Stoddard saw her.”

“No, I don’t think so. Not a positive ID. They found Isabella’s car abandoned at the rest stop with her purse inside. They assumed the unconscious woman was Isabella, and when they showed her picture to Stoddard, he verified the identification.”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“No, it’s just a theory. But the woman in the coma, that’s Lily. I saw her myself. I was going to take her picture so I could show the police, but they caught me before I could.”

“How did they catch you?”

“I must have set off the silent alarm. I had just opened the blinds, so I’d have enough light to take the picture when the two nurses walked in. They jumped on me and dragged me downstairs.”

“Did you try to explain?”

“What, that Lily was the woman in the coma, and not Isabella?”

“Yes.”

“Kinda hard to do, they didn’t speak English.”

“Russian?” Adam asked.

“Why do you say Russian?”

“Because Stoddard speaks Russian.”

“Russian was my guess. By the time they got me downstairs, Joe and Brian were there, with Isabella’s aunt and uncle. Joe wouldn’t listen to me, but he finally agreed to look in on her.”

“And then?”

“Apparently Isabella had a tattoo on her arm.”

“Yes, a dragon tattoo. She got it when we were going together.”

“They’ve tattooed Lily’s arm. When Joe went into the room, he saw that first and never really looked at her face. He thinks it’s Isabella. He’s wrong.”

“I have one question.”

“What?”

“How did you happen to break into the house in the first place?”

Danielle chewed her lower lip, considering his question. “Adam, everything I’ve told you is true. I understand if you don’t believe me. I wish I could tell you why I happened to check out the house, but I can’t.”

“Joe admitted he didn’t have a good look at her face?”

“Half of her head is covered in a bandage, and they’ve cut her hair. He looked at the tattoo and only saw Isabella. He pretty much said I was insane to imagine Stoddard would do something like that—have Lily tattooed.”

Adam let out a snort. “Joe can be clueless.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could see Stoddard doing something like that—the tattoo—if it suited his purpose. But my only question, where is Isabella?”

“I don’t know.” Danielle shook her head. “That was her car at the rest stop.”

“You don’t think Isabella was the one driving Lily’s car, do you? The one killed in the accident?”

“I don’t know. Do you think it’s possible?” Danielle asked. “You knew Isabella. I didn’t.”

“Well…” Adam pondered the question a moment. “If whoever was driving that car was the one who left Lily in the desert, then it wasn’t Isabella. Isabella could be a little flaky sometimes, but she was never mean or cruel. She would never hurt anyone. It wasn’t in her nature, which is one reason she got sucked into that screwy cult.”

“Do you believe me, Adam?”

“It’s an interesting story. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m not sure.”

They pulled up beside Danielle’s car a few minutes later. As Danielle unhooked her seatbelt she said, “I’d still be happy to give you that hundred bucks.”

“Nah, if Grandma ever found out she’d bust my chops.”

Danielle opened the door and stepped out of the car. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, and Danielle—”

“Yes, Adam?”

“I liked Cheryl. I’m really sorry about what happened to her. I don’t think I ever told you that.”

“Thanks, Adam. She liked you too.”

W
hen Danielle got
into her car, Lily was waiting, sitting in the passenger seat.

“I wondered where you went,” Danielle said under her breath as she closed the car door. She waved to Adam before he drove off, and then she slipped the key into the ignition.

“I wanted to check on my body before we went home.” Lily looked out the window to the Gusarov Estate.

“Let’s get outa here and go home. After I get something to eat we can figure out what to do next.” Danielle turned the key and started the engine.

“We have three days, Dani. I’ll be okay for three days but we have to do something before Wednesday,” Lily announced, still gazing out the passenger window at the house where her body was being held. The car pulled away from the curb and headed north, back to Marlow House.

“Wednesday? What is Wednesday?” Danielle asked.

“They’re moving me on Wednesday, out of the country. Our break-in has really freaked out Isabella’s aunt and uncle. They don’t believe they’ve heard the end of you. I think the fact you have money makes them uneasy.”

“Why are they doing this? Did you find out?”

“When I first listened to their conversation, I thought Isabella was upstairs. Not me. They kept talking about Isabella changing her will. I assumed they thought she was going to come to and they’d convince her to revise it. But I don’t think that’s what they were talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think they intended to have a fake will prepared and lead people to believe she’d changed it when she came out of the coma. But Gusarov feels that’s too risky now. He says they need to revise their plan. They intend to move me out of the country—to a private hospital in Canada. They want to get me out of Frederickport and away from you before you try something again. He’s contacted the hospital, and the soonest they can take me is Wednesday.”

“What about the will?”

“They’ve decided to create a new will—one supposedly written six months ago—that leaves everything to Gusarov. They’re planting it at her place, and when he sends over a crew to clean out her house, they’ll find it.”

“What do you mean clean out her house?”

“I got the impression no one’s been in it since she disappeared. When they talked about the house, Gusarov’s wife mentioned selling it, but he said it would take some legal wrangling for him to be able to sell Isabella’s house, and even if he could, he didn’t want to. He’d rather make a show of taking care of it—so it would be there for Isabella when she recovered and came home.”

“What a nice guy,” Danielle snorted.

“At least they’re no longer talking about holding a pillow down on my face.”

“Did they say anything about Isabella? Where is she? Do they know where she is?”

“They never said. But if they’re doing this, they must believe she’s not coming back.”

“Maybe you should stay and see what else they say.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. Apparently, we gave Gusarov’s child bride a migraine. She took some aspirin and is lying down. No talking between those two. And it seems the staff only speaks Russian—even the maid. So nothing to pick up there.”

“At least we have until Wednesday.”

“I was a little surprised how you used your one phone call—Adam?”

“You told me they were going to cut me loose, so I didn’t see the point in calling an attorney. And I figured I’d need a ride back to my car.”

“But Adam?”

“When I was sitting there deciding who to call, I realized I don’t have any real friends in Frederickport. Oh, I’ve met a few people but none I consider friends—other than Ian and Marie. And if Adam hadn’t come forward with that video of his, I might be serving time for my cousin’s murder.”

“Does he know why you were at the police station?”

“Yes. I told him you’re the one at the Gusarov Estate, not Isabella.”

“And he believed you?”

“I’m not sure. But I found out something interesting at Marie’s. It seems Adam used to date Isabella. They broke up about a year ago.”

“Really? Humm…But you don’t know if he believed you?” Lily asked.

“He didn’t discount me. We discussed where Isabella might be—assuming you were in that hospital bed. We discussed one possible scenario—that Isabella was the one who took your car and that she was the person killed in the accident. After all, you drove your car to the rest stop, and it looks like someone else drove it out—while Isabella’s car was abandoned there.”

“I never really considered that.”

“Adam says he doesn’t see that happening. Claims Isabella would never hurt anyone. I can’t see her doing it either. I mean why? The woman was rich. If she had car trouble, she’d simply ask you for help, she wouldn’t hit you over the head, take your car, and dump you in the desert. Makes no sense at all.”

“Makes more sense that someone stole Isabella’s car—and when they needed a new one, they took mine.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too. And if someone left you for dead, I would assume they did the same to Isabella, since she hasn’t resurfaced.”

“There is one thing that doesn’t make sense, Dani.”

“What?”

“The way Isabella’s aunt and uncle are behaving, it’s as if they already know she’s dead—or not returning. How do they know that? Are they someway connected with whoever left me in the desert?”

“Why have them dump you in the desert and then claim the body? I can’t believe they planned that. They had no way of knowing the cops wouldn’t use fingerprints to ID you—which they obviously didn’t for some reason, or you wouldn’t be in Frederickport.”

“It’s probably a good thing I’m in an altered state right now—or I’d be getting a headache!”

“When we get home, we’ll discuss this with Walt and figure out what to do. And if all else fails, we’ll resort to plan B.”

“We have a plan B?”

“Yes. I just thought of it. We storm the Gusarov Estate and take you.”

“How do we do that? As you can see, I have no Walt-like powers.”

“True. But I could probably round up some local mercenaries—with the help of Adam—to storm the fort.”

“Ahh…friends in low places.”

“And enough money to pay them with.” Danielle smile smugly.

“Have you forgotten how Adam and Bill bungled the break in at Marlow House? And we didn’t do such a terrific job ourselves today.”

“Okay…you have a point. Perhaps I’ll rethink plan B.”

J
oe entered
the break room and found the chief sitting with Brian, having coffee.

“You back already?” the chief asked.

“I didn’t take her.” Joe filled his coffee cup and then sat down at the table. “Apparently she used her one phone call on Adam Nichols. He picked her up.”

“Are those two getting chummy?” Brian asked. “I wonder if something is going on there.”

“I remember when she couldn’t stand him. Insisted he broke into her house.” Joe shook his head in disgust and then took a sip of coffee.

“Boatman has a penchant for telling tall tales,” Brian said.

The chief set his mug down on the table and looked from Brian to Joe. “I think you’re both reading her wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked.

“Brian seems to think she’s some sort of fruitcake—”

“She is,” Brian interrupted.

“And you see her as this vulnerable broken creature, who’s not wholly responsible for her actions.”

“It’s just that she’s been through a lot,” Joe said in defense.

“Poor little rich girl,” Brian snickered.

“What—you think just because she has money means she can’t have issues?” Joe asked.

“Hell no. That woman has a boatload of issues!”

“Like I said, I think you’re both wrong,” The chief picked up his mug and downed the rest of his coffee.

“How so?” Joe asked.

“She seemed pretty rational to me today. Now that I think about it, she always has. We need to remember she was completely innocent in her cousin’s disappearance and murder. As for her attack on Clarence, can’t say I wouldn’t have been tempted to finish the job myself if he had tried to kill me.”

“Are you saying you think that’s Lily and not Isabella up at the Gusarov’s?” Brian asked incredulously.

“No, of course not. If Joe says it’s Isabella, that’s good enough for me. But I do wonder what Danielle Boatman’s up to.” The chief stood up and went to get more coffee.

“What do you mean?” Brian asked.

After filling his cup, the chief turned to face Brian and Joe. He took a sip of the coffee and then said, “She doesn’t come across to me as a fruitcake or vulnerable. From what I know about her, she was doing well before she inherited Marlow House. I did a little checking and the marketing firm she started with her late husband was well respected and profitable. She made a tidy little sum when she sold it. She’s no dummy. And frankly, I don’t think she’s some fragile wimp. But she is up to something, and I’d like to know what it is exactly.”

“You don’t think she believes it’s Lily at the Gusarov’s?” Joe asked.

“Do you?” the chief countered.

Joe considered the question a moment then said, “I did when I first arrived on the scene. Not that I believed her, but I thought she believed it.”

“But you changed your mind?” the chief asked.

“When I came back downstairs she immediately knew I hadn’t found Lily and started giving a reason for it—saying I hadn’t looked at Lily’s face. It was as if...” Joe paused a moment trying to frame his thought. “It was as if she knew I wouldn’t find Lily and was working off a script. But she screwed up and delivered her lines too early. She should have waited until after I said I hadn’t found Lily upstairs, before she accused me of not looking close enough.”

“So you think she’s up to something too?” the chief asked.

“I suppose. But I don’t know what.”

“Either way, I still say she’s a fruitcake,” Brian grumbled. “And don’t forget, according to her cousin, Boatman thinks she can communicate with the dead.”

“That was when she was a troubled kid,” Joe argued.

“Maybe a troubled kid then, fruitcake now,” Brian said.

“If she was just your average run of the mill fruitcake it wouldn’t be an issue,” the chief said. “But she’s the type that can get herself into all sorts of trouble—send us running in circles—while having more than enough money to pay whatever lawyers she needs to bail her butt out. What bothers me, I don’t think she’s some eccentric we have to deal with. She strikes me as a clever young woman who we shouldn’t underestimate. And frankly, I think both of you have done that.”

“What do you want us to do?” Joe asked.

“A little digging. I want to find out what sort of connection she has to the Gusarov family or any of their business interests. Did she have any kind of a relationship with Isabella or with anyone in Stoddard’s circle? See if she has anything to do with that group Isabella supposedly left her estate to, Earthbound Spirits. If the rumors are true, I bet they’re anxious to find out how Isabella is doing. If she dies, they’ll be coming into a significant fortune. There has to be some reason Boatman broke into that house and I don’t believe it’s because she thought Lily was being held there. No, that makes no sense at all. She’s playing us, with all this Lily nonsense. She is up to something, and I want to know what. Find out.”