The Ghost and the Baby Page 10

  “Keep doing what you are doing; ignore her,” Danielle told the men as she made her way to the gate.

  Pearl, who stood just outside the gate leading up the walkway to Marlow House, attempted to push her way in, but the gate stubbornly refused to budge. In her failed attempt to enter, she didn’t notice Walt silently watching her—and in his own way stopping her from coming closer.

  “They can’t do that!” Pearl shouted as the men continued with their installation.

  “You seriously need to stop coming over here and yelling at people,” Danielle told Pearl. She stood just a few feet from the angry neighbor, the closed gate separating them.

  “And this is a residential neighborhood. You can’t put that sign up!” Pearl declared.

  With a weary sigh, Danielle pulled a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. One of the men had given it to her when he had first arrived. She handed it to Pearl.

  “What’s this?” Pearl frowned, taking the paper and unfolding it.

  “The city of Frederickport requires approval of any signs—in residential and commercial areas. As you can see, they have approved this sign for Marlow House.”

  Now reading the document, Pearl began to shake her head. “No.” She looked back up at the sign. The men were almost finished with the installation. “That is going to draw undue attention to Beach Drive. This is a residential area, and we have a right to our privacy. How can we get that with tourists driving up and down our street, blocking traffic? No. You need to take that down!” She shoved the paper back to Danielle.

  “You seriously need to mind your own business, Pearl,” Danielle told her as she took back the paper and returned it to her pocket.

  “It’s Mrs. Huckabee to you!” Pearl snapped.

  “Fine. You seriously need to mind your own business, Mrs. Huckabee. And if you come over here yelling at me again, I am going to the police station and taking out a restraining order on you,” Danielle threatened.

  “You can’t do that! I have my First Amendment right to speak my mind!” Pearl argued.

  “And I have the right to install a historical marker on my property. Now please leave.”

  Pearl was still fuming when she parked her car in her driveway a few minutes later. Is it really so much to ask for it to go back to how it used to be on Beach Drive? she asked herself. Why couldn’t Marlow House be vacant like it had been when she was a child. She climbed out of her car and started for her front door; then she heard what sounded like someone attempting to start their vehicle. Pausing a moment, she listened. The sound of gears grinding made her cringe as whoever it was made another unsuccessful attempt to start their vehicle.

  Instead of going into her front door, she made a detour and headed to the back of her property. It almost sounded as if whoever was making that horrible sound was parked in her backyard—or the alleyway behind it. When she reached the back of her property, she froze—not because she saw a vehicle, but because of what someone had done to her grandmother’s rosebushes. Branches had been cut from some of the bushes, and in the center of the rose garden, one bush had been removed completely, leaving a gaping hole in the ground.

  Then she heard it again—someone attempting to start an engine. But this time it started. Pearl ran to the back fence. Just as she reached it, she spied the back of a black pickup truck speeding away down the alley before disappearing.

  Fifteen

  Brian Henderson stood with hands on hips, looking down at the gaping hole where the rosebush had been. He looked to his right and then his left. Two rows of rosebushes had been planted along the wrought-iron fence separating Pearl’s property from Marlow House. Brian assumed they had seen better days. The missing one had been plucked from the center of the row farthest from the fence. Before digging it up, the thief had apparently cut off a branch from various rosebushes. Or at least, that was what Brian concluded given the fact freshly cut branches littered the ground.

  Kneeling by one rosebush, he picked up the closest branch on the ground, careful not to get pricked by a thorn. Examining the rosebush, he found where it looked as if the branch might have been cut. Holding the branch to that spot, he shook his head. “Not sure what we have here. Some vigilante gardener?” Brian asked before dropping the branch back on the ground and standing up to face Pearl.

  “He was obviously looking for the healthiest rosebush,” Pearl told him.

  Brian glanced down at the bush he had just inspected. “I hate to tell you this, but it looks to me like they’re dead. Maybe you should have just let the guy take them all out.”

  The moment Brian made the comment, he realized it was a mistake by Pearl’s glare.

  “This is not funny, Officer Henderson! Someone has vandalized my property, and you seem to think they did me some sort of favor, and I should be grateful!”

  “No, of course not. I’m just trying to understand why anyone would want to steal a dead rosebush.”

  “Because they didn’t take a dead rosebush!” Pearl marched over to where the missing rosebush had been and picked up the branch that apparently had been cut from that plant. She shoved it at Brian.

  “What am I looking at?” Brian asked, hesitant to take the branch from her, considering the thorns and the way she was waving it about.

  “It’s green. See.” She held up the cut end for Brian to examine.

  He arched his brows. “So it is.”

  “I want you to find the person who did this!”

  “You said you saw a black truck. Did you get a license number?”

  She shook her head. “No. They drove away too fast. But the more I think about it, I know who it has to be.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Andy Delarosa. It has to be him. He’s the only one who lives in town. Of course, it might be another one of them. I suppose it could be any of them.”

  “Andy Delarosa? Who is he? And when you say them, who do you mean?” Brian asked.

  “The previous owners of this property. They’re cousins of mine—second cousins. Their parents were my first cousins.”

  “Why would they tear up your rosebush?”

  “These are my grandmother’s prizewinning roses.”

  Brian glanced over the plants and arched his brows. They looked like dead bushes to him, but he said nothing. Instead, he looked back to Pearl and asked, “Why would your cousin steal one now? If he wanted it, why not take it before selling you the property?”

  Pearl looked at Brian as if he were daft. “They never got along. Couldn’t agree on anything. That’s why they sold me the house. They obviously couldn’t decide what to do with Grandma’s roses, so one of them came over here and helped himself.” Pearl paused a moment and glanced over her backyard. “If they hadn’t done it before the house closed, I suppose I should be prepared for others showing up and trying to steal more of them.”

  “I’ll go talk to this Andy Delarosa and see what I can find out. Do you have his contact information?” he asked.

  “I don’t have his phone number or address. I know he lives on this side of town. Someone mentioned it once.”

  “I’m sure I can find him,” Brian said, writing down the name in his notepad.

  “Oh, I do remember something one of the cousins said about where Andy lived. They said his house was like Grandma’s, next door to a haunted house.”

  “Haunted house?” Brian frowned.

  Pearl pointed next door. “Marlow House. When we were kids, we used to say it was haunted.”

  “Ahh, and your house used to belong to your grandmother?”

  Pearl nodded. “They said the house next door to Andy’s was haunted, just like the one next door to this one. But that supposed haunted house burned down a couple of Halloweens ago.”

  “You mean Presley House?” Brian asked.

  Pearl considered the question a moment and then said, “Yes. I believe that’s what they called it. Andy lives next door to Presley House—or where it once stood.”

  “O
kay, I’ll go have a talk with him. See if I can find out what happened here.”

  “One more thing, Officer Henderson.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s about Marlow House. Did you see they put up a sign in the front of the property?”

  “Yes. I noticed it when I drove up.”

  “And that is legal?” she asked.

  Brian shrugged. “It’s a historical marker. The city encourages those in Frederickport, and frankly, I expected Danielle to put one up after she moved here.”

  “Well, I don’t like it!” Pearl snapped.

  Across town, Faye Bateman sat in her parlor gazing out the large picture window, watching as the sun set over the ocean. She sipped a cup of tea. This house had been her home since she had married, and now that she was a widow, she shared it with her son. Norman was rarely home, spending hours at work, and Faye was often alone, save for the domestic who came for six hours each day.

  The woman spoke no English, so she was hardly a companion for Faye. However, she was an excellent cook, kept the house spotless, the laundry clean, and before she left each day, she would bring Faye a cup of herb tea. It was her way of letting Faye know she was going home, and that dinner was in the oven. Faye typically waited until her son got home from work before eating the dinner that had been prepared for them.

  At first glance Faye looked more like an aging movie star than the elderly mother of the local funeral home director. Instead of gray hair, hers was white blond, falling several inches above her shoulders and worn in soft waves, reminiscent of something Doris Day or Marilyn Monroe might have worn in one of their movies. Faye’s weekly trip to the beauty shop kept the style and look consistent. She had worn it that way for over fifty years.

  Even when confined in her house—which she found more the norm these days—Faye got dressed each morning and applied her makeup. She had not been raised to lounge around in the house in a robe and uncombed hair.

  Her once vivid blue eyes had since faded to gray. Yet even if they had maintained their youthful look, the endless creases lining her once smooth complexion would have been a distraction, making the eyes appear much smaller than they had once been.

  In her youth she had stood five feet seven, but the last time she had been measured, her height had come in under five feet four. Part of the deficit was from the curvature of her spine, making it impossible for her to stand at her full height.

  Age is not kind, Faye had told her son on more than one occasion. She recognized the unkindness of it all more astutely than others her age, because while her body continued to deteriorate, her mind remained sharp.

  Faye had just finished her tea when Norman unexpectedly walked in the room.

  “You’re home early,” Faye said as she set the now empty cup on the side table.

  Holding an envelope with his right hand, he sat down in a chair next to his mother. “I was able to leave a little early today and thought I would figure out what I should do with this.” He tossed the envelope on the table between them.

  She eyed the envelope but didn’t bother picking it up. “What’s that?”

  “Remember those raffle tickets Heather Donovan was selling? The ones for a room at Marlow House over spring break?” he asked.

  “You mean the ones you felt obligated to buy since her employer donated so much to your favorite charity?”

  “The same. I certainly didn’t need a week at Marlow House, and I didn’t expect to win. But I did.” He laughed.

  Faye arched her brow and reached for the envelope. “And you just found out about it now?”

  “They announced the winners a week or two ago. That’s why I was surprised when someone from the art department contacted me. I guess there was a mix-up with the person who was supposed to call me. It’s a good thing this didn’t happen to one of the winners from out of town. It might be too late for them to make travel arrangements.”

  “And what are you going to do with it?” Faye asked.

  “If spring break wasn’t starting this Saturday, I’d tell them to draw someone else’s name.”

  “No,” Faye said, shaking her head as she removed the prize certificate from the envelope and unfolded it. “I have another idea.”

  “What is that?”

  “You could give it to your mother,” Faye said, now reading the certificate.

  “You want to use it?”

  Holding the document with both hands, the envelope resting on her lap, she looked up at Norman. “Yes. I would love to use it. Do you know I grew up next door to Marlow House, and I’ve never been inside? I’ve always wanted to see what it looked like inside.”

  “I know you wanted to go to their open house,” he said.

  “Yes, and something always seems to come up when they have one. I was sick once, and then I was out of town another time.” She refolded the paper and slipped it back in the envelope.

  “Then it’s yours, Mother. According to the information, they’re providing breakfast and supper—no lunch.”

  “Two meals a day is perfect,” she said.

  “And you’ll be right next door to your old house,” he told her.

  “I suppose that new woman moved in already.”

  “She did some time ago,” Norman told her.

  “I don’t understand how she managed to buy that house. We’ve been trying to pick it up for years.”

  “It just wasn’t meant to be, Mother. From what I understand, they didn’t even put it on the market. They sold it to one of their relatives.”

  “Why didn’t they give us the chance to make an offer? It’s not like we haven’t inquired enough times over the years.”

  “I don’t even know why you want the house now,” Norman said. “I can’t imagine you would want to move into it. You love this house. You don’t want to move.”

  “Perhaps, but someday if you finally stop being so picky and find a woman to marry and settle down with, I don’t think your new wife would want your old mother to be hanging around, getting in the way. This house would be perfect for you to start a family—you know, a man at your age can still have children. Look at my father. And I would have been very comfortable back at the house on Beach Drive. I would be going home.”

  Norman stared at his mother a moment and thought, I can’t believe you seriously think there’s still a chance I’ll settle down with any woman.

  Sixteen

  It was early Saturday morning, and Walt and Danielle stood across the street in the Bartley driveway, chatting with Lily while Ian loaded suitcases in the trunk of his car. Sadie stood nearby, tail wagging, watching Ian’s every move.

  “I really appreciate you keeping Sadie this week, especially since you’ll be having guests,” Lily told them.

  “Don’t be silly. Sadie is always welcome, with or without guests in the house,” Danielle said.

  “If we were driving we would take her.” Lily glanced over to the golden retriever, who hadn’t taken her eyes off Ian. “She knows something is up.”

  “I already discussed it with her,” Walt told Lily.

  Looking back to Walt, Lily smiled. “And what did you tell her?”

  “That you and Ian are visiting your family in California, and it was a long drive, so you decided to fly. I explained it really wasn’t safe for dogs to fly on airplanes. I told her she was staying with us.”

  “So she’s okay with that? The way she keeps looking at Ian…”

  With a cringe he said, “I probably should have left out the part about it not being safe for dogs to fly, and just said that they aren’t allowed on planes.”

  “Why is that?” Lily asked.

  “Because she started worrying about you and Ian. If it’s not safe for her to fly, why is it safe for you? I finally convinced her it is safer for you to fly because you don’t have to travel in the luggage compartment. It took her a while to understand.”

  Lily glanced back to Sadie and said, “Considering how she’s staring at Ian, not sure you convinc
ed her.”

  “Just don’t let anything happen to you two while you’re gone, or she will never trust me again,” Walt said.

  “Well, that’s about it,” Ian called out as he slammed the trunk closed. He walked to the three, Sadie trailing next to him.

  “Did I tell you my sister is having a surprise baby shower for me while I’m there?” Lily asked Danielle when Ian reached her side.

  “It can’t be a surprise if you know,” Danielle said.

  Ian draped an arm around Lily’s shoulder. “You know my mother-in-law can’t keep a secret.”

  “It’s only because Mom wanted to make sure I brought something to wear—and she told me I need to have my hair fixed before the shower.” Lily shook her head at the idea.

  “Fixed? Is it broken?” Danielle teased.

  “Cute.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Mom wants me to have it done at a beauty shop the day before the shower. I guess she expects me to show up at the surprise shower with my hair perfectly done, wearing a new outfit and my makeup on, and act all surprised.”

  “But that’s how you always look.” Ian gave Lily’s cheek a quick kiss.

  “Yeah, right.” Lily laughed.

  Ian glanced at his watch. “We’d better get going.”

  “You guys have a great time,” Danielle told them.

  “I hope so,” Lily said. “I would sort of like to stay home, but come summer, I’ll be home all the time.”

  Ian removed his arm from Lily and then turned to Sadie. He knelt down in front of the dog, looking into her face. “You be a good girl for Walt and Danielle.”

  Sitting before Ian, Sadie looked in his eyes and let out a pitiful whimper.

  “Oh, girl, you like staying with Walt and Danielle,” Ian told her as he stroked the dog’s neck.

  “It’s my fault,” Walt said with a sigh. He stepped closer to the pair and looked down at Sadie. “I promise, Sadie, they won’t make Lily and Ian sit in the luggage compartment.”

  Ian frowned up at Walt. “What?”