After coming into the kitchen, Danielle slipped on a Christmas apron over her jeans and blouse, its front adorned with an appliqué red-nosed reindeer. The apron had belonged to her cousin Cheryl. They had all had one—her parents, her aunt and uncle, and Cheryl’s younger brother. But now they were all gone—there was no one left from her family, but she now had Walt. Walt was her family, as were her friends.
A Santa appliqué decorated her apron, but it needed mending, which was why she had decided to wear her cousin’s apron today. Perhaps tomorrow she would wear her mother’s, and the next day, her aunt’s. The Christmas aprons had been a family tradition, and they had all been wearing them the last time she had seen them—in her Christmas dream hop two years ago, courtesy of Walt. Danielle smiled at the memory, reminding her of another reason she had fallen in love with a ghost.
“Do I smell cookies?” Walt asked as he walked into the kitchen.
Danielle, who had just pulled a cookie sheet from the oven, paused a moment and looked back at Walt. “I swear, you have a sixth sense when it comes to cookies.”
“It hardly takes a sixth sense. I can smell them. And I’m fairly certain my sense of smell is included in the standard five.” Walt tried to snatch a chocolate chip cookie from the hot sheet, but Danielle swatted him away.
“Stop that, you’re going to burn yourself, and they need to firm up anyway.” Danielle set the cookie sheet on the hot plate while Walt stood by, waiting anxiously for a taste. “And I meant you have a sixth sense when it comes to knowing when they’re coming out of the oven. You always seem to know.”
“It’s a gift.” Walt took a seat at the kitchen table, his eyes still on the warm cookies.
“What do you think of our new guests?” Danielle gingerly removed the cookies from the pan and set them on a plate.
“His wife didn’t seem that shy to me,” Walt said.
“Maybe she’s just shy in large groups,” Danielle suggested.
“Perhaps. But I do believe she has that germ phobia. I noticed she didn’t use the handrail going up and down the stairs.”
Danielle cringed. “That doesn’t thrill me. We’ve already had one disastrous fall down our stairs.”
“In all fairness, she didn’t trip or just fall, she was pushed,” Walt reminded her.
“Still. It’s not safe walking up and down stairs without holding onto the rail.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that right now. She made it back down the stairs safely, and they just left the house. Noah told me they were going to take a walk along the beach.”
“I hope they brought their jackets.” Danielle shivered at the thought.
“Yes, they were both wearing jackets,” Walt assured her. “Now, what about that cookie?”
Danielle grabbed a napkin and used it to plate one warm cookie. She handed it to Walt and then returned to the counter to place more cookie dough on a fresh cookie sheet.
“Have I told you I love you lately?” While his words of affection were directed at her, his gaze was focused on what Danielle had just given him.
“Are you talking to me or the cookie?”
“A little of both.” He laughed.
“You only love me for my cooking,” Danielle teased, her back to him.
“They do say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” He bit the cookie in half and then glanced over to Danielle, who was focused on her task at hand. He turned his attention to the cookies she had set on the plate.
Finishing the freshly baked treat, he licked the warm chocolate off his fingers and glanced at Danielle and then to the plate again. The next moment, one of the cookies lifted up and off the plate and began floating across the room to him. Just as it reached his hand, Danielle, her back still to him, said, “I saw that.”
Overhead, the sky was gray yet free of drizzle and rain. Noah wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his jacket closer to his body, attempting to ward off the chill. Zara, who walked beside him up the road as they headed north, seemed more interested in what was on the other side of the street.
“I had no idea he was the author,” Noah told Zara. He tucked his hands in his coat pockets and shivered.
“That’s the book you just finished reading?” she asked.
“Yes. It hasn’t been out long, but it’s been number one on the bestseller list for a couple of weeks now, which is pretty amazing considering this is his first book. Of course, I imagine part of it goes back to it’s all about who you know.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“In one of the reviews I read about the book, it mentioned how Marlow’s neighbor is Jon Altar. According to the article, Altar read the book and passed it on to his agent. The rest is history.”
“I’ve always loved Jon Altar’s work.” Zara stopped walking a moment and then looked down the street toward Marlow House. “That must mean Altar lives around here. That’s strange, when I checked the houses on this street, I didn’t come across his name.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a pen name.”
Zara let out a sigh and turned her attention back to where they were headed. “We could use someone like Jon Altar.”
“Knowing what I know now, Marlow’s book makes sense.”
“I never realized how bizarre this world was,” Zara noted.
“That’s for sure.”
Zara stopped abruptly and looked across the street. “There it is.”
Noah looked at the house that had Zara’s attention. “That’s where Chris lives?”
She nodded. “Yes. And the woman who works for him, she lives a couple of houses down from Marlow House, going the other way.”
“I wonder if he’s home,” he asked.
“There’s no car in the driveway, but I would expect him to park in the garage.”
“You certain he didn’t get a good look at you?”
“Like I said, I only saw him from a distance. I didn’t want him to get a good look at me. I figured it might complicate things if he recognized me,” she explained.
“But the woman who works for him, she saw you?”
“Yeah. Which is why I need to avoid her if possible.”
“Maybe you should have dyed your hair or worn a wig?” he suggested.
“Funny, Noah.” She didn’t sound amused.
“Sorry. But if you can’t avoid her, you’ll just have to make her think she must have seen your double. They say everyone has one.”
A moment later a car came driving down the street and turned into Chris’s driveway.
“There he is,” Zara whispered.
“Let’s cross the street, like we’re going to the beach,” Noah suggested.
By the time they reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, Chris was already out of his car, getting something out of the trunk.
“Hello. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Noah cheerfully greeted Chris, Zara by his side.
Chris, who had just closed his trunk, paused a moment and looked up at the dismal gray sky. “Where are you from, the North Pole?”
“I guess I just love this type of weather,” Noah lied, feeling foolish for his opening statement.
Chris turned to the pair and smiled. “Yeah, a lot of people don’t have a problem with the gloom, but I wouldn’t mind a bit more sunshine this time of year. So, are you new in the neighborhood or just visiting?”
“Just visiting for the holidays. We’re staying at Marlow House through Christmas,” Noah explained.
“Ahh, so you’re the other guests. Danielle told me you were coming in today.”
“You’re friends with Danielle Boatman?” Zara asked.
“Yes.” Holding the bag he had removed from his trunk, Chris walked down his driveway toward the pair, who stood on the sidewalk. “Marlow House is where I stayed when I first arrived in Frederickport. In fact, it was also Christmastime, two years ago. Marlow House is always quite festive this time of year, and if you like Christmas cookies, you came to the right place,” Chris said with a chuckle.
“Good to know. I haven’t tried any of her cookies yet. I’m Noah Bishop, by the way, and this is my wife, Zara.”
“Chris Johnson,” Chris said and then shook Noah’s offered hand. After the handshake ended, Chris turned to Zara, but her arms were firmly folded across her waist as she nodded to him and smiled. It was obvious to Chris she wasn’t interested in shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Chris. Maybe we’ll be seeing you around while we’re here,” Noah said.
“You will. I’ll be having Christmas dinner with you all at Marlow House, but I imagine you’ll see me again before then. My uncles are the other guests staying there this week. They’re arriving tomorrow.”
“Danielle mentioned that,” Zara said.
The sound of barking came from Chris’s house. All three turned toward it. In the window, her head shoved between an opening in the curtains, was a pit bull barking furiously.
Chris looked backed to Noah and Zara and said, “I’d better get going before Hunny starts eating the furniture. Nice meeting you both. Enjoy your time in Frederickport.”
“Thank you,” Noah said.
“See you later,” Chris called out as he turned toward his house and started up the driveway.
“Do you have any doubts now?” Zara asked after Chris went into his house, and they started down the street.
Noah shook his head. “No, it’s him.”
Walt was still sitting at the kitchen table when Chris knocked on the back door twenty minutes later. Chris didn’t wait for a response, but just walked in. He hadn’t seen Danielle in the kitchen when he had first peeked in the window, but he found her standing at the kitchen sink, washing a mixing bowl, when he walked in.
“Rumor has it you’re baking cookies,” Chris said.
“You’d better hurry before Walt eats them all,” Danielle teased as she turned to face him.
“Even I couldn’t eat all the cookies you bake,” Walt said as he gave Chris a nod and pointed to the plate of cookies, silently suggesting to help himself. “Although, I am giving it my best shot.”
Chris grabbed a couple of cookies from the plate and then headed for the table to sit with Walt. En route there Danielle stopped what she was doing and handed him a paper napkin.
“I met your guests,” Chris said after taking his first bite of cookie.
“The Bishops,” Danielle said. “They arrived this afternoon. I suspect you met them while they were taking their walk?”
“Yes, they were down by my house. He seemed pretty friendly, but she didn’t say much.”
“According to him, his wife’s extremely shy, but she didn’t seem particularly shy when we met her,” Walt said.
“When do you think my uncles are going to arrive?” Chris asked.
Danielle dried her hands on a dishtowel and then tossed it on the counter as she headed to the table. “They’re flying into Portland. I don’t expect them until later tomorrow afternoon.” Danielle sat down at the table.
“There was something familiar about him,” Chris said after finishing his first cookie.
“You mean Mr. Bishop?” Danielle asked.
Chris nodded and broke his cookie in half. “It was something about his laugh. Driving me nuts, I’m trying to place it.”