Seventeen

Walt and Danielle were alone in the living room when the uncles arrived. Walt spied them first, coming up the front walkway. Danielle glanced at her watch and said, “I really thought Chris would be here when they arrived.”

“You want me to call him?” he offered.

“Would you, please?” Danielle asked before heading to the door leading to the entry hall.

When Danielle opened the door, the most peculiar thought popped into her head. They reminded her of defective bookends. Identical in appearance and dress—conservative dark slacks, loafers, and tweed jackets—yet mismatched in size, with the smaller one slightly hunched over and more aged. He walked with a cane, which he also used to nudge his brother to the side, allowing him to step into the house first.

They had just exchanged names and were still standing in the entry when Noah came walking down the hallway from the direction of the staircase.

“More guests?” Noah asked cheerfully.

Danielle turned to Noah and smiled. She then looked back to the Glandon brothers and said, “Gentlemen, this is one of the other guests, Noah Bishop. He and his wife are also staying with us. Mr. Bishop, this is Loyd and Simon Glandon. They have come to spend Christmas with their nephew, Chris, who is a neighbor of mine.”

After introductions, Noah excused himself, saying he was going to take a little drive, while Simon Glandon made it clear he wasn’t anxious to make the journey up the stairs to see his room, considering he had just driven in from Portland after their flight. He expressed a desire to sit down and have something to drink and perhaps a snack before going upstairs.

Danielle showed them to Loyd’s room on the first floor, where they set their suitcases, and then she took them into the living room. The brothers each sat in one of the matching easy chairs, where she left them with Walt while she went to the kitchen to prepare some hot tea and a plate of cookies.

Twenty minutes later, she sat on the living room sofa with Walt, facing Chris’s uncles.

“I understand our nephew lived here when he first came to Frederickport,” Simon said.

“That’s correct, two Christmases ago. He liked Frederickport so much he decided to stay,” Danielle explained.

Loyd nibbled a chocolate chip cookie while studying Danielle through narrowed eyes, shifting his gaze from Danielle to Walt, back to Danielle. “I was under the impression you were seeing our nephew.”

“Chris and I are just good friends,” Danielle explained.

“Good enough that he moved here. Bought a house on your street,” Loyd noted.

“It’s a good neighborhood,” Danielle said primly.

Loyd looked at Walt and asked, “You said your last name is Marlow—is this house yours?” He looked to Danielle and added, “I thought it was hers?”

“This house was originally built by Frederick Marlow, a distant cousin,” Walt explained. “I happen to be named after his grandson. But Danielle is the owner of Marlow House. I rent a room on the top floor.”

“Interesting,” Loyd grumbled under his breath. “How long have you lived here, Marlow?”

“I came for a visit last spring. Like your nephew, I decided to stay.”

“You could afford to just pick up and move here?” he asked.

“Actually, Walt’s a successful author,” Danielle interjected. “He can basically work anywhere.”

“I always thought I could be a writer,” Simon mused.

Danielle stood up and smiled at the men. “If you will excuse me, I have something I need to check in the kitchen.” She looked at Simon. “When you’re ready to go to your room, let me know, and I’ll take you up. I hope you enjoy your stay, gentlemen.”

After Danielle left the room, Walt stood up and started to excuse himself when Loyd waved his hand, motioning for him to sit back down. “I would like to talk to you a moment, young man.”

Walt sat back down and asked, “Yes?”

“I assume you know my nephew?” Loyd asked.

Walt nodded. “Yes.”

Loyd picked up the cane he had resting against his chair. He pointed it at the doorway, where Danielle had just walked through. “Is there anything going on between those two?”

Walt arched his brow and smiled. “Chris and Danielle? No. As she said, they’re just good friends.”

“I worry about my nephew. He’s always been a naive and sheltered boy. I blame his mother for that; she coddled the lad,” Loyd told him.

Simon nodded in agreement.

“Far too easy for a pretty face, like Miss Boatman, to take advantage of an impressionable young man like my nephew. I just want to make sure she’s not someone we need to be worried about.”

Outside, Chris moved past the living room window, yet not without first seeing his uncles sitting in the room talking with Walt. He hurriedly made his way to the side yard and up the driveway, to the back door leading to the kitchen. Once there, he peeked in the window and spied Danielle standing at the sink. Without knocking, he opened the door and slipped inside.

“They’re here,” Chris said in a hushed voice.

Danielle turned from the sink and faced him. “What are you doing in here? Why didn’t you go in the front door and say hi?”

Chris took a seat at the table and snatched a cookie from under the glass dome. “I wanted to see how they were first.” He took a bite of the cookie.

Danielle walked to the table and sat down. “Don’t you think you need to go and say hi, so you can find out for yourself?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I want to get the lay of the land first.”

She cocked a brow. “Lay of the land?”

“Yeah, see what kind of mood they’re in.”

“Well, they did come out and ask me if I was seeing you,” she told him.

“What did you tell them?” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and listened intently, waiting for her response.

Danielle stared at Chris a moment and then let out a sigh. “I told them we were lovers and you enjoy spending money on me.”

“No, come on, I’m serious. What did you say?”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “What do you think I told them? I told them the truth, that we’re just good friends.”

“I really wish I hadn’t talked you into this. I don’t want to deal with them.” Chris picked up the glass dome and took another cookie.

“Why do they make you so nervous?” she asked.

“Aside from the fact they dragged me through court and made me feel as if I really wasn’t a member of the family, that I was no more than some mutt my parents picked up at the pound, and I had no more right to their estate than a dog?”

“Then why did you agree to this?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I was feeling guilty after he called. To be honest, until my parents died, I never considered them anything but family. They were my uncles—a little odd sometimes, but they were my father’s brothers. They’re the only family I have left. Does that make any sense?”

“I understand. Some people wondered why I didn’t kick Cheryl out when she first showed up here. I wasn’t under any obligation to let her stay, and she was acting pretty obnoxious.”

Danielle paused a moment and looked up, as if talking to the heavens. “Sorry, Cheryl, but it’s true. You were acting like a brat.”

She looked back at Chris and said, “but Cheryl was family—and like your uncles, she was all I had left. I don’t know what your relationship was like with your uncles before your parents’ death, but it wasn’t all bad between me and Cheryl. Looking back, in many ways we were more like sisters—sisters that got on each other’s nerves.”

“Any regrets?”

“Aside from the fact she was murdered because she stayed?”

Chris winced. “Yeah—well, that didn’t work out terrific, especially for her.”

“I’m glad I never cut her off. There were times I avoided her, but I never shut her out of my life completely—I always left the door open. For that, I don’t have any regrets.”

“Would you and Walt go out to dinner with us tonight?”

“I assume you mean with you and your uncles?”

“And with Heather too,” he told her. “I asked her if she would go with me. I’d rather have you all there as a buffer. At least until I get a feel for what they really want.”

Danielle began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your uncles are going to assume Heather is your date. No offense to Heather, but I think your uncles might take an exception to someone who dresses like Heather dating their only nephew.”

Chris grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I figure too.”

Danielle laughed again. “Seriously? You’re trolling them?”

Chris shrugged. “Not trolling them exactly.”

Zara wondered how long she was going to have to wait. It had been relatively easy sneaking into the downstairs bedroom undetected. When Danielle had brought the Glandons to the room to leave their suitcases, she had hidden in the closet, where she had remained. She needed to see the brothers together—and alone. The last thing she wanted was for Danielle Boatman to catch her hiding in one of the closets in another guest’s room.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard something—it sounded like squeaky door hinges. Peeking through the narrow opening of the closet door, she watched as the bedroom door opened. She was prepared to step out of the closet, assuming it was Loyd or Simon, when she froze. It was Chris Glandon.

“This was my room,” she heard Chris say. Following him into the bedroom were Loyd and Simon—Danielle Boatman was nowhere in sight.

“I suppose it was an improvement after living on that sailboat,” Loyd suggested.

“Now, Loyd, the boy likes a good adventure. What young man doesn’t?” Simon chastised. “You have to admit, when you were his age, the prospect of living on a sailboat would have been tempting.”

“I prefer someplace that isn’t always rocking,” Loyd grumbled. Reluctantly he glanced around and shrugged. “It’s a nice room.”

“I’ll take Simon upstairs and show him his room and then—” Chris began, only to be cut off by Simon.

“Shouldn’t Miss Boatman do that?”

Chris smiled. “I don’t think Danielle will have a problem with me showing you to your room.”

“What exactly is the relationship between you and that young woman?” Loyd asked.

“Danielle? She’s a good friend.”

Simon reached out and gently touched Chris’s arm. “If Loyd seems a little abrupt, don’t take it personally.”

Loyd sat down on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to make excuses for me.”

“The thing is,” Simon continued, ignoring his brother, “we’re just worried about you. That disastrous court case was our misguided attempt to protect you. We want to make it up to you; we want you in our lives again. But that doesn’t mean we can suddenly stop worrying about you.”

“Worry about me how?” Chris asked.

“We’ve done a little digging on Danielle Boatman,” Simon explained.

“Are you saying you had her investigated?”

“You can’t blame us. You come here for a holiday and you end up staying, locating your foundation here. Do you know that woman has profited off some questionable inheritances?”

Chris arched his brow. “Umm…when you say that woman, you mean Danielle?”

“We met Mr. Marlow; the man is renting a room here. He’s a rightful Marlow and somehow the Boatman woman managed to get her hands on his family’s money,” Loyd said.

“And then she inherited her cousin’s entire estate—a cousin she was estranged from—in spite of the fact this cousin had other relatives, relatives she got along with, she left all her money to Danielle Boatman. Don’t you find that odd?” Simon asked.

Chris shrugged. “Not particularly. What do you think is going to happen?”

“We’re worried that Miss Boatman is going to find some way to convince you to get married, and then become a very young widow—for the second time,” Simon said.

“They call them black widows,” Loyd said.