The Ghost and the Bride Read online

  “Where is it?” Adam stammered, looking around in confusion.

  “Oh, hi, Adam, did you forget something?” Danielle smiled uneasily.

  “Ummm…no…I was just going to say…” Adam looked around again and then turned to Danielle. “Where is the trunk?”

  “The trunk?”

  “Yeah, the trunk. You know, the one with the wedding dresses. The one Bill and I just brought over here not ten minutes ago. Where did it go?”

  “Umm…” Danielle glanced up the stairs and then looked down the hallway. “I…I pushed it in a closet.”

  “You pushed it? All by yourself?” He looked around again. “What closet?”

  “A closet in the downstairs bedroom.” Danielle smiled nervously. “Now what did you come back to tell me?”

  “I was going to say if Ian and Chris needed my help getting the trunk upstairs to call me.” Adam scratched his head and looked around again.

  “Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell them.”

  He looked down at the wood floor and frowned. “I’m surprised it didn’t scratch your wood floor. Pushing it like that.”

  “I…I used a throw rug.”

  “Throw rug?” Adam frowned.

  “I put a rug under the trunk. It made it easy to slide across the floor,” Danielle lied.

  “I guess it did,” Adam muttered. He looked at Danielle and asked, “How did you get the rug under the trunk by yourself?”

  “Umm…leverage.”

  “Sometimes women can make you feel stupid. And useless,” Adam grumbled when he climbed into Bill’s truck a few minutes later. The engine was already running.

  “What happened?” Bill drove the truck away from the curb.

  “She moved that damn trunk by herself!”

  Driving down the road, Bill glanced briefly to Adam. “Moved it where?”

  “She put it in a closet in the downstairs bedroom. Managed to get that damn thing on a throw rug and push it down the hall, all by herself.” Adam shook his head.

  “That was pretty quick. How did she do it so fast?”

  “Hell if I know. Surprised she didn’t throw her back out.”

  “So why did she ask us to set it by the stairs?”

  Adam shrugged. “I guess because she’s a woman. They’re always changing their minds.”

  When Ian and Lily returned from Portland late Sunday, she told them about Walt moving the trunk upstairs and the lie she had told Adam. She had already called Chris and shared the story with him. They all agreed to tell Adam—should the subject arise—that Chris and Ian had moved the trunk from the bedroom closet and managed to carry it up to the attic.

  When Ian finally saw the trunk for the first time, he realized what a pain it would have been to actually haul the heavy old trunk up two flights of stairs. He began to appreciate one of the benefits of having a resident ghost. They made superb furniture movers.

  Of the three wedding dresses, the one worn over 150 years ago by Walt Marlow’s paternal grandmother was the one that best fit Lily. It was also Lily’s favorite. Made from silk, with silk embroidery, free from lace, the gown required minimal alteration or repair. While it did have a fragile quality, it had survived quite well stored in the cedar trunk, and Danielle had no doubt it would survive Lily’s wedding. With a narrowed waistline and short puff-like sleeves, it made Lily feel like a princess. Its shade leaned closer to ecru than white, which Danielle attributed more to the gown’s age than the fabric’s original color.

  Now that Lily had her dress, the stress of wedding planning melted away, as did the rest of August, quickly moving into September. The wedding invitations had been sent, and RSVPs trickled in.

  The plan was for Ian’s parents to stay across the street at his house, along with his sister, Kelly. At Marlow House, Lily’s parents, siblings, and favorite cousin Pamela, along with Pamela’s husband, would be staying. Other out-of-state guests had booked lodging at the Seahorse Motel.

  A week before the guests were to arrive, Adam ran into Danielle at Pier Café. He began updating her on the current news regarding the Pruitt family. Joyce had given up her housecleaning job with him several days earlier. When he had driven by her house the next day, he noticed a for sale sign. He was more than annoyed to discover she had listed the property with another broker.

  “Some people don’t like using a real estate agent they know personally,” Danielle told Adam as she picked up a French fry from her plate.

  “Oh bull,” Adam grumbled.

  “So where is she moving? Did she say?” Danielle nibbled on the French fry.

  “No. She wasn’t especially talkative. When I mentioned it to Grandma, speculating how she could just up and move, she said she heard Joyce had finally sold that land of Agatha’s.”

  “Hmm…a little nest egg. That and what she got from my insurance company. Of course, I imagine the estate has to pay off the funeral home first.”

  “Grandma also told me Joyce’s oldest son moved to Vancouver to be closer to his son. And she said something about Joyce’s daughter and son-in-law leaving Frederickport.”

  “I guess after Shane’s confession and all Agatha’s lies, they probably want to go somewhere and have a fresh start,” Danielle suggested. “I wonder if her other son is staying in Frederickport.”

  Adam shrugged and leaned back in the booth seat, picking up his glass of iced tea. “One of Shane’s old roommates came in our office the other day, looking for a rental. He told me he went to see Shane. He’s locked up in some psychiatric ward; they don’t think he’s mentally competent to stand trial. In fact, the roommate claimed Shane seems quite happy there.”

  “Happy?” Danielle frowned.

  “Yes. He said that ever since Agatha was killed, Shane had been acting strange. As time went on, it got worse.”

  “Strange how?” Danielle asked.

  Adam shrugged. “Jumpy, paranoid.”

  “Guilt?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure that explains why he’s so content to stay in the mental ward. At least, according to the roommate. I guess Shane told him he was happy there; he felt safe, says he can sleep again.” Adam shook his head at the thought and took a sip of his tea.

  Safe? Danielle wondered. I suspect this means Agatha really has moved on. She’s obviously no longer haunting her grandson.

  Nine

  Kent walked into the kitchen and found Pamela sitting at the table, in front of her laptop.

  “What are you doing? I thought you were packing?” he asked.

  Pamela looked up and smiled. “I’m all packed. I just want to get these bills paid before we leave for the airport. I intended to do it last night, but never got around to it.”

  “I’m sure the bills can wait until we get back,” Kent said as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer.

  Pamela glanced over from her computer and frowned. “Isn’t it a little early for beer?”

  Kent popped the can open and shrugged. “We’re on vacation, and I’m sure it’s noon somewhere.” Taking a swig, he sat down at the table.

  “I suppose,” she muttered, her attention on the computer.

  A moment later, Pamela looked up and asked, “Did you call Oregon last month?”

  Kent arched his brows. “Oregon?”

  “Yeah. Oregon. I’m looking through the phone bill, and they have a call to Silverton, Oregon, listed. It was on my birthday.” She stared across the table at Kent.

  Instead of answering, he took another swig of beer. After a moment, he said, “Yeah, I did. Your birthday, remember, that was the day you got the letter from your cousin about her wedding.”

  Pamela frowned. “And?”

  “I wanted to see if I could contact their chamber of commerce, see what kind of things we could do when we’re there. After all, we’ll be there for an entire week. But I got the wrong number. I must have called someone in Silverton instead.” Kent stood up, beer in hand.

  “Where did you get the number for the chamber of comm
erce?” Pamela asked.

  Kent shrugged. “I didn’t. I told you I got the wrong number. I’m going to go finish packing.”

  Pamela watched Kent leave the room. After he was out of sight, she muttered, “You do the strangest things these days. Beer at eight in the morning? And what did you do, just make up a phone number you thought sounded good for a chamber of commerce?” Shaking her head, Pamela turned her attention back to her bills.

  The man wore a brown T-shirt and khakis, with a scruffy pair of Skechers that had seen better days. His hair needed combing. The truth was, he couldn’t recall the last time he had washed or combed his hair. Standing outside the house, he peered into the kitchen window, watching Pamela. Several days earlier, he had overheard them talking about taking a trip—Oregon. What’s in Oregon? he wondered. He wanted to simply march into the house and make her listen to him. I’d like to give her a good shake and ask her what in the hell are you thinking? He then laughed dryly and thought, No, that would probably give her a heart attack, and then I would really be screwed. For now, he would have to watch, and if necessary, he would go to Oregon.

  Alone in the downstairs bedroom, Kent removed his cellphone from his pocket and sat down on the end of the bed. Silently, he stared at the flip phone. He had talked Pamela into purchasing the phone several weeks earlier. She had wanted to replace the smartphone that had been destroyed in the accident, but he didn’t want one. If he had one, he imagined she would be sitting in the kitchen now, poking through the calls he had made, just like she was doing now with the landline. This was better, he thought. He would much rather have an inexpensive flip phone so he could purchase minutes and not be billed. Bills meant someone looking through the numbers called. He felt suffocated as it was, living in this house with Pamela. At least the inexpensive phone gave him an element of privacy.

  Standing up, Kent walked into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door, locking it. He turned on the water and then sat on the toilet seat next to the sink. Flipping open the phone, he dialed her number. A moment later, she answered the call.

  “Felicia?” he whispered.

  “Who is this?” she demanded.

  “This is Kent Harper. I told you I was going to call,” he said in a loud whisper, the running water helping to muffle the sound.

  “I’m getting ready to go to work. What do you want?”

  “We’re leaving for the airport in a couple of hours. I’ll be in Frederickport late this afternoon.”

  “So?” she snapped.

  “I need to see you. Alone. It’s important.”

  “Then come to where I work if it’s so important.”

  “I can’t. I can’t drive yet.” He glanced to the door, worried Pamela would be knocking at any moment, wondering why the water was running.

  “That really isn’t my problem.”

  “Can’t you please come to Frederickport. I…I’ll pay you.”

  “Pay me? Are you serious?”

  “Like I said, it’s important,” he pleaded.

  “Well, okay. Maybe. But…I want two hundred bucks. If I have to drive all the way over there, that’s what I want.”

  “Okay. Two hundred,” Kent promised. He smiled. You haven’t changed a bit.

  “And I want cash.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring cash.”

  “But I can’t come until later this week.”

  “What do you mean? I need to see you as soon as possible!”

  “I have to work,” she told him.

  “Take the day off. I’ll pay you your missed wages.”

  “Yeah, right, but that won’t help me if I get canned. I don’t want to screw up this job. If you want to see me, you’ll just have to wait until next week. Didn’t you say before you were staying for a week?”

  Kent let out a sigh. “Okay. Next week. What day?”

  “I’ll call you back and let you know. Is this your cellphone?”

  “No!” he said abruptly. “I mean, yes, this is my cellphone, but you can’t call me.”

  “Oh, your wife?” She laughed. “I guess she doesn’t know about this phone call either.”

  “No. And I don’t want her to. It will ruin everything.”

  “Yeah, I imagine it will. Okay, call me back after Tuesday. I work today, through the weekend, and Monday. But I’m off on Tuesday.”

  “Then let’s meet on Tuesday.”

  “Umm…no…” she said. “I need to check with work, make sure I don’t have to go in.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t have to.”

  “They always change the shifts around. Call me Tuesday, and I’ll know for sure then when we can hook up.”

  A knock came at the door.

  “I have to go. I’ll call you later,” he said in a hurry before closing his phone. Standing up, he turned off the water.

  “Kent? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m okay. I’m just in the damn bathroom!” he snapped. “Can’t I take a crap without you hovering over me?”

  When Kent opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, he found Pamela standing there, looking as if she was preparing to burst into tears.

  “Damn, Pamela, it’s no reason to cry.”

  With a sniffle, Pamela wiped her eyes, catching the moisture before tears slid down her cheeks. “I just don’t know why you have to be so short with me all the time,” she said in a small voice.

  Kent let out a weary sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just over being cooped up, first in the hospital and then rehab, and now in this house. I think this trip will be good for me.”

  Pamela nodded and then forced a smile. “Yes, this trip will be good for you. And maybe when we get home, things can start getting back to normal again.”

  “That’s all I want too. I know you only mean well, Pamela, but since the accident you’ve been trying too hard to protect me, like I’m still an invalid.”

  “But the doctor said—”

  “Yes, I know what the doctor said!” he snapped, and then softened his tone and added, “But even though the doctor doesn’t think I’m ready to drive a car yet or go back to work, can’t I please get some of my independence back?”

  “Of course.” She smiled softly.

  “Then why don’t you give me my debit card and credit card like you promised. I’m not in the hospital anymore; no one is going to sneak in and steal my cards. And if we’re going to take this trip, I would like to have my own money again. After all, it is my money too.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” Pamela turned and scurried out of the bedroom. When she returned, she handed him the two cards and told him what the PIN numbers were.

  Holding the cards in one hand, he looked at them and asked, “Refresh my memory. Exactly how much do we have in this bank account—and what is the credit limit on the card?”

  Felicia had lied. She wasn’t on the way to work. She was on the way to visit her brother, Jimmy Borge, in the correction facility in Salem. Two hours later, she was sitting alone with Jimmy at a table in the visitors’ room.

  After Felicia told Jimmy about the phone call, he asked, “You don’t intend to meet him, do you? After everything he’s done?”

  “I thought about it all the way over here. And to think he’s staying at Marlow House…”

  “I know, that little witch. I’d love to settle with Danielle Boatman. It’s her fault I’m in here,” he growled.

  “Maybe this is fate,” Felicia suggested.

  “Fate? How?” He frowned.

  “Bringing them together under one roof. I could settle with both of them at the same time.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t want you to do anything stupid. I sure as hell don’t want to see you locked up.”

  Felicia laughed. “I don’t intend to get myself locked up. As you remember, I’m pretty good at not getting myself arrested.”

  “Let’s keep it that way!”

  “I need to do something. This is my chance. They’ll both be under the same roof. I can take
care of them at the same time.”

  “Now you are sounding stupid,” he snapped. “Didn’t you just tell me they’re having a wedding at Marlow House? I have to assume that means people all over the place. I sure as hell don’t want you to do anything to put yourself in danger.”

  “Okay, maybe I am getting ahead of myself. But I’m going to do something. I don’t know what yet, but, Jimmy, I am going to settle that score. It’s their fault our lives are total crap now.”

  “Why don’t you see what Harper wants to tell you, first.”

  Felicia let out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll do that. Anyway, he promises he’s going to give me two hundred bucks. I might as well get that before I settle the score. Maybe he’s good for more cash.”

  “Where are you going to meet him? I don’t want you to be alone with him.”

  “Don’t worry; your little sister can take care of herself.”

  Ten

  Laura Miller’s plane arrived within minutes of Ian’s parents’ flight. The Millers and Lily’s brother wouldn’t be arriving for almost two hours, which was why Ian’s sister, Kelly, offered to pick Laura up at the Portland airport when she picked up her parents, and bring them all to Frederickport. Kelly found them all at baggage claim, waiting for their luggage.

  “I still can’t believe how much you look like your sister,” Kelly remarked as she and Laura stood by the baggage carrousel, waiting for Laura’s luggage. “I would have known you anywhere.” Like her sister, Laura stood just under five feet three, petite and curvy, with a generous bustline.

  “When we were in high school, people were always asking if we were twins. Which I found exceedingly annoying since she’s a year younger than me,” Laura said with a laugh. “I don’t really care if they say that now.”

  “I understand Lily’s the only one in the family with red hair,” Kelly said.

  “Yep. The rest of us are towheads. When we were little, I’d tell Lily she was adopted. Of course, she’d counter that Rupert had already told her. You see, she was a princess who had been stolen from her kingdom, and she was just waiting for her family to find her. Well, according to Rupert, anyway.” Laura chuckled.