The Ghost and Little Marie Read online

“No,” Danielle told her.

  Marie smiled. “It’s amazing. I can see beautifully without any glasses!”

  “You are dead,” Walt reminded her. “Eyeglasses aren’t really necessary on this side.”

  “This just keeps getting better!” Marie continued to smile for a few moments, but then the smile faded when she considered the recent turn of events. “Although I’m not particularly thrilled about the murder thing. While this side seems quite interesting, I wasn’t quite ready to make the move, and frankly I’m annoyed someone killed me!”

  “Marie, please finish your story. You said you heard footsteps,” Danielle urged.

  “Oh yes…umm…well, I heard someone coming down the hall. And then I saw them at my doorway. Like I said, I didn’t have my glasses on, and it was pretty dark. I assumed it was one of the nurses making rounds, so I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.”

  “Why pretend?” Walt asked.

  “Because if they knew I was awake, they would push another pill on me. Places like that want to keep everyone drugged up. It makes it easier for them.”

  “I have to agree with that,” Heather said. “They had my grandfather on a ton of pills.”

  “I wasn’t going to let them overmedicate me! In fact, the pain pill they gave me last night before I went to bed, I pretended to swallow it, and then hid it in my pocket when they weren’t looking.” Marie tucked her hand in the pocket of her dressing gown and then pulled it out. Her hand was empty. She shrugged and said, “I guess it’s still in the pocket of my other dressing gown—the one on my poor body.”

  “Then what happened?” Eva asked.

  “Whoever had come into my room was still there, but I wasn’t sure. It had gotten very quiet, and I finally opened my eyes. But when I did, I found myself looking up at a pillow, and the next thing I knew, whoever was holding the pillow tried to smother me. It was quite horrible, actually.” Marie shivered at the thought.

  “Afterwards, you didn’t see who it was?” Danielle asked.

  “To be honest, afterwards I thought I was still alive. I figured whoever had tried to smother me had given up and run out of the room. I followed them out into the hall, and one of the other patients in my wing saw them run out the back door.”

  “Who was this other patient?” Heather asked.

  Marie shrugged. “I have no idea. She must have moved into that room that morning, because the room was empty the day before. It’s the room on the end of that corridor, near the rear nurses’ station, facing the back door.”

  “Wait a minute.” Heather spoke up. “How did you know this other patient saw your attacker run out of the building?”

  “She told me, of course.”

  Danielle and Heather exchanged glances.

  “Marie, I talked to the woman who saw you leave the building,” Danielle told her. “But she wasn’t a patient there—at least not a current one. She was a spirit.”

  Marie frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I saw the woman this morning; I talked to her. She told me she saw you run out of the building, and then I learned there were no other patients staying in your wing. She has to be a spirit.”

  “Perhaps it was a patient from the other section,” Marie suggested. “After all, those patients often get confused.”

  “Because she saw you,” Eva reminded her, “it is obvious it was your spirit that left that room, which means the only ones who could see or hear you would be other spirits or someone with a gift. Considering where you were, it’s more likely it was another spirit. I imagine there are other ones there.”

  “Plus, she vanished right before my eyes,” Danielle said. “That sorta cinched it for me.”

  “Why would anyone hang around in a place like that after they died?” Marie asked. “Gracious, at my first opportunity, I would be out of there! Now that I think about it, that’s exactly what I did.”

  “I suspect that spirit may not understand she’s dead,” Danielle suggested.

  “Marie,” Heather began, “I’ve been doing a lot of studying on this subject. From what I’ve managed to piece together, houses that are supposedly haunted are—at least the ones that really are haunted and not some scam—are typically inhabited by a ghost who is conflicted, confused. Like a murder victim.”

  “I was a murder victim, and I didn’t stick around,” Marie said.

  “We are all individuals,” Walt reminded her. “Not all spirits react in the same way. But Heather’s theory has merit. People whose death resulted from violence tend to be more confused after death. I speak from experience.”

  “If this is true—that someone smothered you—I need to tell the chief. He has to order an autopsy before the funeral. As it stands right now, everyone believes you died of natural causes,” Danielle said.

  “And just like that, Edward will order my autopsy? I wish he would, but I can’t imagine what you could say to make him do that.”

  “Just tell him the truth,” Danielle said.

  “What, that my ghost told you I was murdered?”

  “You forget, the chief’s youngest son is like me.”

  Marie frowned. She studied Danielle a moment. “So you’re telling me Edward knows about all this? He believes his son can see ghosts?”

  “Yes,” Danielle said. “Lily isn’t the only one who knows. Aside from Lily, both the chief and Ian know. And I suspect Brian Henderson believes Marlow House is haunted.”

  “Interesting…and to think all of this was going on around me when I was alive, and I never suspected a thing,” Marie mused.

  Before Danielle could respond, her stomach growled. Everyone looked at her and chuckled.

  Danielle shrugged. “I did miss breakfast this morning.” She stood up. “I’m going to make myself a sandwich. Heather, you want one?”

  Danielle made sandwiches for Heather and herself and suggested they all go into the dining room. There were enough chairs for everyone around the dining room table, and she found having Eva lounging in midair in the kitchen too much of a distraction. It was bad enough trying to ignore the occasional burst of sparkling glitter.

  “I suppose we might want to figure out who killed Marie, before Danielle calls the chief,” Heather suggested just before taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “I’ve been giving that some thought,” Marie said. “It has to be Crazy Earl.”

  “Crazy Earl?” Heather frowned. “Isn’t that the town drunk from Hart of Dixie?”

  “I have no idea what Hart of Dixie is,” Marie said. “Crazy Earl is a resident of Seaside Village who used to hang out by the back door, trying to escape.”

  “Earl Sharpe,” Danielle clarified. “The elderly man you talked to Sunny about?”

  “Everyone is elderly at Seaside Village,” Marie said. “Except, of course, the staff. But yes, that Earl. Although everyone at that place calls him Crazy Earl because he’s always trying to escape.”

  “Why would he want to kill you?” Heather asked.

  “I suspect because I told Sunny what he was up to, why he kept hanging out on our side of the building. Of course, they should have known that without me having to tell them. But of course, no one over there ever pays attention to what’s going on in that place.”

  “If they just let the patients wander around unattended, it mustn’t be that difficult for them to escape. Can’t they just walk out of the building?” Eva asked.

  “All the exterior doors are locked,” Marie explained. “The back door has a password keypad, so staff and visitors—at least the visitors who have been given the password—can come and go from the building without using a key. Crazy Earl would wait by the back door, hoping someone would open it for him.”

  “Marie, didn’t you tell us your attacker left out the back door?” Walt asked.

  “Yes, so?” She frowned.

  “Then that would mean your attacker knew the password, which would mean it was clearly not this Earl fellow.”

  “Maybe someone finally told him wh
at it was.” Marie paused a moment and frowned.

  “What?” Danielle asked.

  “Now that I think about it, I don’t recall keying in the password when I left the building last night.”

  Walt chuckled. “Because you probably didn’t. I imagine you moved through the wall to get outside.”

  “Why didn’t I find that odd? Heavens, I still thought I was alive at that point.”

  “It’s pretty common for a spirit to be confused immediately after death. Things you would normally notice when alive, you might overlook—at least until you come to accept your death,” Danielle explained.

  “Shouldn’t we be asking who had a motive to kill Marie?” Heather asked.

  “I just told you. Crazy Earl. He was mad at me for talking to Sunny.”

  “I don’t believe he’s our killer. When I’ve seen him, he’s been in a wheelchair. So, he couldn’t have run out the back door even if he had the password. Who else has a motive?” Danielle asked.

  “Money is always a motive.” Heather looked at Marie. “Who stands to inherit your estate?”

  “Don’t be silly, no one from my family would kill me,” Marie scoffed. “If it wasn’t Crazy Earl, it has to be one of the other residents. They’re free to roam that place, and since we aren’t allowed to lock our bedroom doors, anyone can enter any of the bedrooms during the night. It was probably some homicidal maniac they have living there. Since that first night in that place, when they wouldn’t let me lock my door, I was afraid something like this would happen!”

  “Why waste time debating motive?” Eva asked. “Wouldn’t it simply be easier to talk to the witness?”

  “Witness? You mean the woman who saw the attacker leave the building?” Heather asked.

  Waving her hand to release more glitter, Eva said, “Obviously.”

  “I hate going back over there, but I suppose I could,” Marie said with a sigh. “It would make things easier if we could simply tell Edward who killed me. Of course, he’ll still have to find some way to prove it. I don’t imagine my word on the killer’s identity is going to help much.”

  Danielle stood up. “I think the first thing we need to do is tell the chief there’s been a murder so he can order an autopsy. And I just remembered something…”

  “What’s that?” Walt asked.

  “When I was at Marie’s earlier, her family was talking about having her body cremated.”

  “But they can’t do that,” Marie insisted. “I’ve already made my arrangements.”

  “Maybe they can’t. But if they manage to have you cremated instead of buried—and they do it before an autopsy is ordered, it will be virtually impossible to prove you were murdered,” Danielle explained.

  Fourteen

  Officer Brian Henderson greeted Danielle when she walked into the police station that afternoon. He was standing by Holly’s desk, manning the phones while the dispatcher was in the bathroom.

  “Hello, Danielle. I’m sorry to hear about Marie Nichols.” He reached out and briefly touched her right elbow.

  Looking into Brian’s face, Danielle couldn’t help but remember all those times she had been at odds with the older officer. On more than one occasion he had been more than willing to see her tried for murder. Yet their relationship had evolved over time, and while she wouldn’t call him a close friend, they had entered a truce, and at moments like this, he behaved like a friend. By his expression, she could tell his sentiment was sincere.

  “Yeah, me too.” Danielle smiled sadly.

  “One consolation, she lived a long life, and from what I understand, she went peacefully in her sleep.”

  “I suppose, but I’m still going to miss her.”

  Brian reached out again and touched her arm. “I imagine you are. She was like family to you, wasn’t she?”

  “She was.”

  “Do you know if they’re having the funeral before Thanksgiving or afterwards?”

  “That would mean they’d have to have the funeral tomorrow, considering the next day is Thanksgiving. I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “You’re probably right. Wonder if they’ll have it over the weekend?”

  Danielle considered the complications of a murder investigation, which would mean an autopsy. She couldn’t imagine Marie’s body would be ready for burial until next week. “I kind of doubt it.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to the chief. Is he in his office?”

  “He is.”

  Several minutes later, after exchanging a few final words with Brian, Danielle made her way alone to the chief’s office. She found the door open and the chief working at his desk.

  “I know why Marie was here this morning,” Danielle announced when she walked into the office.

  MacDonald glanced up. He set the pen he had been holding on his desktop and leaned back in his chair, studying Danielle. “You’ve seen her?”

  Danielle closed the office door and took a seat facing the desk. “Yes. She was murdered, Chief. She was coming to you for help…although at the time, she thought she was alive and just reporting an assault.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. “What do you mean murdered? Murdered how? By who?”

  “She was smothered.”

  He sat up straight in the office chair. “Smothered?”

  “With her pillow.” Danielle then went on to recount Marie’s story, beginning with the time she was killed.

  When she was done, the chief asked, “And she has no idea who did it?”

  “No. But she went over to the Seaside Village to see if she can find that witness.”

  “Oh brother.” MacDonald groaned, leaning back in the chair.

  “I was a little concerned about letting her go over there alone. Spirits can get a little disoriented at first until they figure everything out. So Eva went with her,” Danielle explained.

  “Eva? As in Eva Thorndike?”

  “Yes.”

  MacDonald groaned again. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on the desktop, rested his forehead on his open palms, and rocked his head back and forth while muttering, “This is too weird.”

  “No weirder than normal.”

  He lifted his head and peered at Danielle. “Normal? What’s that?”

  Danielle glanced up at the wall clock. “I wonder if Marie has found out anything.”

  “Even if she tells us who did it, we’ll have to prove it,” the chief reminded her.

  “I know.” Danielle shifted in her chair to get comfortable.

  MacDonald sat up straight and grabbed a notepad and pen to take notes. “Obvious suspects, whoever benefits from Marie’s death, which would mean her family.”

  “Marie insists no one in her family was involved.”

  “I’m sure she wants to believe that, but I know Marie’s estate is worth a couple of million at least. She just sold the Beach Drive house, and I know oceanfront houses along that stretch go for over a million. And that doesn’t even count her other properties. She owns a lot of real estate in this town.”

  “Come on, we know Adam would never hurt his grandmother,” Danielle scoffed.

  “He’s not the only family member. She has a son she’s been estranged from, another grandson that never sees her. Do you have any idea how she has her estate set up?” the chief asked.

  “According to Adam, half of her estate goes to his father, and the other half is divided between him and his brother.”

  “I’m not really surprised Marie didn’t leave it all to her son. But I am surprised she equally divided the half between Adam and his brother, considering Adam is the one who looked after her all these years.”

  Danielle shrugged. “From what Adam told me, the estate was originally to go to his father. But after his father and Marie had a falling-out, she changed her will. She didn’t cut her son out completely, she left half to him and divided the other half between her grandsons.”

  “This gives
all the family members a motive. Even twenty-five percent of the estate, that’s a lot of money.”

  “Why kill a ninety-one-year-old woman for an inheritance? Why risk it? Why not just wait for her to die?”

  “Agatha was killed by her grandson, and considering her age and health, she could have easily died at any time.”

  “But that was different,” Danielle reminded him. “That wasn’t premeditated. It was a crime of opportunity—spur of the moment. Someone planned this. They came into her room in the middle of the night and smothered her.”

  “If not a family member, why else would anyone want to hurt Marie?” the chief asked.

  “Marie seems to think it was one of the other patients.”

  “But why?”

  Danielle shrugged. “She thinks some of them are…well, a little crazy…and unsupervised.”

  “I find it hard to believe those patients—the ones who may no longer be fully competent—are wandering the halls at night unsupervised. I can’t imagine Sunny allowing that.”

  “Sunny? Sunny Hartman? You know her?”

  “Sure. She was a friend of Carol Ann’s.”

  Danielle arched her brow.

  “Don’t hold it against Sunny. None of us realized what Carol Ann was really like. The two went to nursing school together. Sunny was as surprised as I was over what Carol Ann had done.”

  Carol Ann had been the chief’s girlfriend. She had conspired with her brother in an elaborate kidnapping scheme and was currently serving time in prison.

  “Carol Ann had me fooled too. Were the two close friends?” Danielle asked.

  “I think Sunny thought they were. They went to nursing school together, and after graduation they both got a job at the hospital, but then Sunny was in a bad car accident and was off work for almost six months. I didn’t know either of them back then. That’s just what Carol Ann told me when I first met Sunny. By that time, Sunny was working at Seaside Village. But she always struck me as someone who was very dedicated to her job. She took it seriously and wanted what was best for the patients under her care.”

  “From what I understand, Sunny doesn’t work nights. So she really doesn’t know what goes on in that place when she leaves work,” Danielle reminded him.