Danielle no longer walked—she waddled. These days she found it necessary to rest her right hand on her hip while waddling, which accentuated what had turned from baby bump to basketball belly. Walt had asked her not to use the stairs unless he was with her, which she found an unreasonable request, as she had no desire to be stranded on any level of Marlow House. She promised she would be extra careful when using the stairs and avoid making unnecessary trips up or down the staircase. Walt accepted her compromise, yet he or Marie seemed to magically appear on the staircase if she used it without first asking him or Marie to accompany her.
After breakfast on Thursday morning, Danielle retreated to the living room with a book. Walt was on his way to his attic office to get some work done when their housekeeper, Joanne Johnson, arrived. Joanne and Walt exchanged greetings before he headed upstairs, and she went to the living room to say hello to Danielle.
“Good morning,” Joanne greeted from the doorway.
Danielle looked up from her book and smiled at the middle-aged woman. “Morning, Joanne.”
“How are you feeling today?”
“Sorta like a beached whale.”
Joanne laughed.
“Other than that, pretty good. Walt keeps spoiling me.”
“As he should. I’m going to start in the downstairs bedroom. Did Laura get off okay?”
Danielle nodded. “Yep. She arrived in New York safely. Ian has a friend there she’s staying with. He arranged theater tickets for the friend and Laura. Then she flies to London on Sunday.”
“Sounds exciting. Well, I’m going to get started. Do you have your cellphone with you?”
Danielle frowned and glanced at the nearby table and then to Joanne. “Yeah. Why?”
“If you need anything, call me.” Joanne turned and moved out of sight.
They all spoil me. Danielle grinned and glanced back to the iPhone sitting on the coffee table. She closed her book, tossed it on the table, and picked up the cellphone. They still had not decided on names for the babies. Like she had done a dozen times before, Danielle began surfing for name ideas on her phone. After ten minutes of surfing, a girl’s name popped out at her. She paused a moment, considering the name.
“Addison?” She closed her eyes and said, “Addison Marie.” Danielle smiled. If Walt agreed, Danielle had found the name for their baby girl. Now, all they needed was a boy’s name.
A familiar voice called out, “Good morning,” a moment before the spirit attached to said voice appeared in the living room, standing next to the coffee table.
Danielle looked up and smiled at Marie. Instead of wearing one of her favorite floral sundresses and straw hats, Marie looked as if she were heading to church.
“Morning, Marie. What are you dressed up for?” Danielle set her cellphone back on the coffee table.
“I’m going to a funeral this morning.”
“So is Heather. Are you going to the same one?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. Homer Carter’s. I haven’t seen him around town since he passed, but I’d like to say hello if he hasn’t moved on yet.”
“Were you friends with him before he came down with Alzheimer’s?” Danielle asked.
“Not really. I was more friends with his late wife. Of course, she died years ago. He never remarried. Before he started having memory issues, I’d see him around town. We were friendly, not close. But I want him to give my best to his wife when he passes over.”
* * *
“Thanks for coming with me,” Brian told Heather as he parked the car in front of the church.
“I suspect you want me more as an interpreter today than for moral support.” Heather didn’t sound offended at the possibility.
Brian shrugged. “Well, I have to admit, I am curious to find out what Homer is thinking about all this.”
“He’s thinking he’s dead.” Heather unbuckled her seatbelt.
Brian chuckled. “I’m also grateful Chris let you take a couple of hours off.”
“And I’m forever grateful I ran into Chris’s car. It landed me the best job.” Heather grinned as she opened her car door.
“It did.”
As they approached the church, Heather stopped walking. “He’s here.”
Brian stopped walking with Heather and glanced around. People were arriving at the church, with some just getting out of their cars in the parking lot, others making their way up the walkways, and some going into the church.
Brian glanced around. “Where?”
“And he’s not alone.”
“What do you mean?”
Heather nodded toward the entrance of the church. “Marie’s with him. And by the way they’re chatting it up, I have a feeling she’s giving him the inside scoop on death, ghosts, and moving over to the other side.”
Heather and Brian started walking again. After a few steps, Heather said, “They’re looking this way now. Homer is staring at us, and Marie is talking away. I have a feeling she’s telling him about me.”
“I used to hate funerals.”
Heather glanced at Brian. “You don’t anymore?”
Brian shrugged. “Attending a funeral with you is a little entertaining and sometimes more of a going-away party.”
Heather chuckled.
Before they arrived at the front steps of the church, they encountered Homer’s caretaker, Flora.
“Officer Henderson,” Flora greeted.
Brian reached out and took Flora’s hand for a moment and said, “Do you remember my friend Heather Donovan? Heather, this is Homer’s caretaker, Flora Bennett. You met her at the hospital.”
The two women exchanged brief nods and half smiles. Flora looked back to Brian and said, “I was his caretaker, past tense, as Mrs. Henderson reminds me.”
“What do you mean?” Brian asked.
“I’ve been taking care of Mr. Carter for years. Which, of course, meant I needed to live in his house. Be on call twenty-four seven. A week ago, I had no idea Mr. Carter would pass away so suddenly. As far as I knew, he could have lived another ten years or more.”
“What are you saying?” Brian asked.
“Mrs. Henderson expects me to move out on Sunday. Sunday. I’ve had less than a week to process the fact that I not only need to find a new job, but a place to live.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Heather chimed in. “Why can’t you stay a little longer while you find a new job and someplace to live?”
Flora flashed Heather a smile, her expression softening toward the younger woman. “She said they no longer need me. So I have to leave.”
* * *
By the time Brian and Heather reached the church entrance, Marie and Homer were no longer there. Heather assumed they had gone inside. She conveyed this information to Brian as they walked up the steps.
Once they entered the church, Heather spied the pair again, this time standing by the open casket, watching mourners enter the church. Heather was about to tell Brian where Marie and Homer now stood, but froze when Camilla appeared out of nowhere, taking hold of Brian’s arm and practically shoving Heather off to the side.
Stunned at the boldness of Brian’s ex, Heather stared speechless at the pair.
“Brian, you need to sit up front with the family,” Camilla insisted. Still holding onto Brian, she looked over her shoulder at Heather and smiled sweetly. “You can go home. You didn’t even know Uncle Homer. I’m sure you have more fun things to do than attend the funeral of someone you don’t know.”
Brian, who himself was a bit taken aback by Camilla’s assault, regained his composure and pulled his arm from her grasp. “Thank you, Camilla, for the offer, but I’m not family, and Heather and I will sit in the regular pews.”
Camilla moved closer to Brian, her back to Heather. “Brian, Uncle Homer considered you family. He loved you. Your place is up front with the rest of us.”
“Heather and I—” he began, only to be cut off by Camilla.
Moving even closer to Brian, Camilla lowered her voice and said, “Brian, stop this ridiculous charade. You’re just making yourself look foolish. I know I hurt you. You have no idea how sorry I am for that. Why don’t we go someplace after the service and talk about it? Just you and me.”
While Camilla had lowered her voice and positioned herself between Heather and Brian, Heather could still hear what Brian’s ex said, even if others around them could not. Instead of being incensed at the woman’s behavior, it amused Heather, and she felt a little sorry for Brian.
Marie suddenly appeared by Heather’s side. “What is going on with those two?”
Heather, who now stood with her arms crossed, directly behind Camilla while looking over her shoulder at Brian, glanced at Marie and whispered, “I think she’s hitting on Brian.”
“I don’t know what you think is going on here,” Brian told Camilla.
“I think you paid some little tramp to…”
“Did she just call you a tramp?” Marie blurted, making it impossible for Heather to hear the rest of Camilla’s sentence.
Heather nodded, and Marie turned toward the woman and smacked the side of her head. Marie instantly regretted her outburst, because in the next moment Camilla, who assumed Heather had assaulted her, twirled around and slapped Heather across the face.
Heather was not the only one who let out a gasp. Brian pushed Camilla to the side and pulled Heather, who now held her injured cheek with one palm, to his side.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brian shouted at Camilla. “I should arrest you for assault.”
Camilla pointed to Heather and screamed, “She hit me!”
“She did not!” Brian screamed back.
Camilla solicited affirmations of those now gathered around her that Heather had indeed struck her first. While no one could say they saw Heather strike Camilla, none could say she hadn’t hit Camilla. Ted and Lucy appeared on the scene and pulled Camilla away from Brian.
* * *
“Are you okay?” Brian asked Heather after the two sat down in a church pew. “I don’t know what the hell Camilla was thinking. I don’t remember her ever being violent before.”
Rubbing her cheek, Heather glanced from Brian, who sat to her right, to Marie, who sat to the left.
Marie smiled sheepishly at Heather. “I really am sorry.”
Heather rolled her eyes at Marie and looked back at Brian. “I hate to say this, because I’m not a fan of your ex, but that wasn’t entirely her fault.”
“What do you mean?” Brian asked.
“Marie joined us when Camilla started getting all in your face. When Camilla called me a tramp, well, that didn’t sit well with Marie.”
Brian cringed. “Marie did something to Camilla?”
Heather nodded. “Gave her a good smack upside her head.”
* * *
After pulling Camilla away from Brian, Ted deposited her with Pastor Chad, telling the minister his sister was having an emotional time. Pastor Chad led Camilla into his office and closed the door, intending to help her deal with her grief before starting the service.
“I’m going to find out who she is and sue her,” Camilla told the minister. “She hit me. Although, considering she’s just some addict Brian hired, I wouldn’t get much.”
“Are you talking about Heather Donovan?” Pastor Chad asked.
“Yes, the woman who hit me. I think her name’s Heather.”
Pastor Chad frowned. “I’m not sure why you think Brian hired Heather, or that she’s an addict.”
“Do you know her?” Camilla asked.
“Yes. She’s the personal assistant of Chris Johnson, who heads the Glandon Foundation. She’s also Brian’s girlfriend. They’ve been together for at least six months, if not more.”