“I swear, Joe drives me insane,” Danielle told MacDonald when she entered his office a few minutes later. She shut the door behind her. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat down across from him. They were alone.
“Let me guess, Joe told you his theory of who murdered Peter Morris,” MacDonald asked.
“You mean how Chris killed Morris in a fit of rage and then left him in the parlor for a couple hours, waiting for everyone to fall asleep so he could sneak back later and dispose of the body?”
“It’s not a bad theory, since Morris did come to see Chris.”
Danielle slumped down in the chair. “I suppose from Joe’s limited perspective, it is a reasonable theory.”
“Of course…” MacDonald absently tapped his fingertips on the desktop. “I’d have to ask myself, wouldn’t Chris worry about Peter Morris’ ghost sticking around and telling you or Walt what he’d done?”
“Well, actually Morris’ ghost did stick around.”
The chief leaned forward. “You saw Morris’ ghost?”
Danielle shook her head. “No, Walt did.”
“Did he say who killed him?”
“No. But it’s always possible he’s talked to Walt since we’ve been here. Although, the thought of Morris’ spirit lingering around Marlow House rather freaks me out.”
“I can’t say I blame you. You already went through that with Stoddard.”
Danielle leaned toward the desk. “I’ve a question for you. One I couldn’t ask Brian.”
“What’s that?”
“Was there a second body? Did your people find another man’s body?”
He frowned. “A second body? Why would you ask that?”
“Because last night—technically early this morning—Walt saw two spirits. One was Peter Morris, and the other was a younger man Walt didn’t recognize. I have to wonder, if two ghosts suddenly appear, and we find the body of one—shouldn’t there be another body out there?”
“If there’s a second body, we haven’t found it. Tell me what you know—what you couldn’t tell Brian.”
“I was having this lovely dream hop in Hawaii,” she said with a sigh. “At least I think it was Hawaii.”
MacDonald frowned. “Dream hop?”
“Some spirits have the ability to visit people in their dreams—even people unlike me, who can’t normally see spirits.”
MacDonald smiled. “I sometimes dream about my grandmother. Those dreams always feel a bit...different.”
“I assume it’s the grandmother I met at the cemetery?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t a regular dream. I call it a dream hop. Walt does it with Lily sometimes. It gives them a chance to have a real visit, where she can see and hear him. And sometimes, well, sometimes he does it with me.”
“Why would Walt have to dream hop with you?”
Danielle smiled softly. “Because in a dream, you make your own reality. We can set sail on the sea, kick back on a sandy beach, or go sky diving.”
“Seriously?”
Danielle grinned. “Yep. Last night I was lounging on a tropical beach when I started to get cold. Unfortunately, in a dream our body is still vulnerable to the real world. My blankets had fallen to the floor, and I was freezing. Instead of waking up, Walt offered to leave the dream world and return to my room, and cover me up. When he got there, he saw the two spirits.”
“They were together?”
“No. He saw the first one in my bedroom. It was the younger man. Walt asked him a couple questions, but he just disappeared. So, Walt headed downstairs, looking for him, and that’s when he saw Peter Morris’ spirit, running down the hall. Morris said something about having to get out of there and then vanished.”
“So what did Walt do? Did he find the body?”
Danielle shook her head. “No. He decided to wake up Chris. I guess he thought Chris could help him figure it out without waking me up. Chris was asleep, when Walt went into his bedroom. That’s how I know Chris was telling the truth about finding Morris later, after he thought Morris had left.”
“Was Walt with Chris when he found the body?”
“No. Chris went to investigate the parlor, because that’s the direction Walt had seen Morris coming from. Walt went to wake me up. I had just woken up when I heard Heather scream. And you know the rest.”
“In all fairness to Joe, what you told me really doesn’t discredit Joe’s theory. If Walt was with you in a dream, it was possible Chris killed Morris in a fit of rage—not thinking out the possible consequences of his actions.”
“And then just left his body in the parlor and went to bed? I don’t know about you, but if I’d just killed someone in a fit of rage, I couldn’t go to bed and fall asleep. And according to Walt, Chris was sound asleep when he woke him up.”
“I’m not saying I agree with the theory, just that it’s not without merit.” The chief reached over and snatched a manila folder from the corner of his desk.
Danielle watched MacDonald open the folder. “Maybe Walt has found out something since we left him.”
“I wanted to ask you a few questions about one of your guests.”
“Which one?”
“David Hilton.”
“David? What about him?”
“We did a brief background check on the couple staying for the weekend, to see if anything came up.”
“You mean a connection to Earthbound Spirits or Morris?” she asked.
“I remember reading an article a while back, about how Earthbound Spirit’s headquarters was bequeathed to the organization by Helen Hilton—along with her entire estate, which was a considerable fortune. It caused quite a stir at the time, family sued, lost.”
“Hilton? As in the hotel chain?”
“No relationship to the hotel chain. But there is a connection to David Hilton. He’s Helen Hilton’s youngest grandson.”
“No kidding? Does this mean he was involved with a lawsuit against Earthbound Spirits?”
“He and his siblings.”
“He didn’t mention anything last night about his connection to Morris,” Danielle murmured.
“No, no he didn’t.” From the folder, MacDonald removed a printout of an online news article regarding the lawsuit. He handed it to Danielle.
After she read the article, she tossed it back on his desk. “While David had a reason to hate the man, I can’t imagine he was involved in his murder. How would he have known Morris was going to be at the house? Why would he have killed Morris under the same roof he was staying? That’s even more implausible than Joe’s theory.”
“Maybe it wasn’t pre-meditated. Maybe David came downstairs to get a drink of water—like Heather did later that evening. He saw Morris waiting in the entry, after Heather had gone up to bed and Chris was in the kitchen looking for you. For whatever reason, he confronted Morris, wanted to tell him what he thought of him. The two men went into the parlor and things escalated, got out of control, and David killed him.”
“And how did David conveniently get ahold of Chris’ fishing knife? Chris’ tackle box was on the back porch. I assume whoever used it to kill Morris—assuming it is the same knife—stole it earlier and intended to use it to frame Chris,” Danielle said.
“I suppose that is possible, Danielle,” MacDonald conceded. “But according to Chris, his knife had been missing for a few days. Perhaps it wasn’t stolen. Maybe he misplaced it—set it in the parlor and forgot it. Or maybe whoever borrowed it earlier did the same thing. And when David was confronted with Morris in the parlor, he was just so angry and happened to find the knife…”
“And managed to slit Morris’ throat? Just tell me Chief, where’s the blood evidence? Your people have gone through the house; did you find any bloody clothes that might’ve belonged to David? Now that I think about it, that would go for Chris too. I can’t imagine it possible to cut someone’s throat without getting blood on them. While Chris had some on his hands when we found him with Morris, I’m pretty sure he didn’t have any on him when Walt woke him up. I can’t imagine going to bed in bloody clothes. And if he did, that blood would be transferred to the sheets.”
“It doesn’t mean Hilton wasn’t able to dispose of his clothes before the body was found several hours later. He could have buried them on the beach—they could have gone out with the tide. There’s a number of possibilities.”
“I suppose we’ll have to wait then, to see if any clothes wash up on shore.”
“So, who do you think did it?” he asked.
“I honestly have no idea.” Danielle shook her head. “But if you would just let me go home, maybe we’ll get the answers we need. When can I go home, by the way?”
“When I left your house, they had a couple more hours, maybe more. I’ll call you as soon as you can go back.”
The chief’s phone began to ring. He picked it up and looked to see who was calling. He raised his hand briefly to Danielle, signaling he was about to take the call. A few minutes later, when the call ended, he smiled up to Danielle.
“If Walt doesn’t have any new information for us, maybe we won’t have to wait for any bloody clothes to wash up,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, they found a bloody fingerprint on the rod iron fencing along the front of Marlow House, down by the street.”
“Do they know who it belongs to?” Danielle asked.
“My guess, the killer.”