Three

“Revoked?” Walt asked.

Danielle nodded and stood up from the desk, her attention still on the letter in her hands. “That’s what it says.” She walked to the sofa where Walt sat. “Something about a discrepancy with the initial paperwork, and we’re to cease and desist until when—or if—we can get the license reinstated.”

Walt scooted over on the sofa, pushing Max to one end to make room for Danielle. She sat down next to him and handed him the letter.

“Maybe I should call the chief, see if he knows anything,” Danielle suggested. “I really don’t want to spend my first day home down at the city office.”

“You think he’ll know anything?” Walt asked. “It’s not really his area.”

Danielle stood back up. “He usually keeps informed of this sort of thing. After all, he needs to know if someone is operating an illegal bed and breakfast,” she grumbled. After walking to the desk, she picked up the handset to the landline and placed the call.

“Hi, Chief. Yes, we’re back,” Danielle said a moment later. She glanced over to Walt, who silently listened to her side of the conversation. “Yeah, we had a great time. But the reason I’m calling, we just started going through our mail, and we got something from the city…What, you knew?…Why?…Renton?…She what? Oh, brother…I can’t believe this. No, I take that back. Yes, I can. You know that woman was trying to capture Max while we were gone…I don’t know…but she even tried to coax him out of our house…Marie told me…So is this thing hopeless?…Okay…What is her problem?…Doesn’t like change?…Yeah…No, I understand…Okay…Yeah…I’ll tell Walt, and we’ll figure out what we want to do…Okay…Yeah…Talk to you later. Thanks.” Danielle hung up the phone and returned to the sofa with Walt.

“Well?” he asked.

She sat down next to him. “Apparently, when you start a business in a residential area of Frederickport, you have to send a notice to all your neighbors within a specific proximity to the property and notify them of your intentions and then hold a hearing. If any of the neighbors object at the public hearing, then the license can be denied. There was no hearing for Marlow House.”

Walt frowned. “I don’t understand. How did you get the license in the first place, and didn’t you know about this before you opened?”

Danielle let out a sigh and slumped back on the sofa. “Renton handled everything before we arrived.”

“Renton? You mean the man who murdered Cheryl? The one I hit over the head?”

Danielle nodded. “Yes. But back then I knew him as my aunt’s trusty attorney. What a joke.”

“If Renton didn’t arrange for a public hearing, how did he get you a license?”

“I guess he took a shortcut and paid someone in the city to sign off on it—I’m sure with my money, not his. At least, that’s what they suspect. But the employee who handled our business license is no longer with the city; he was fired last year. And there is no record of any public hearing.”

“I don’t understand. Why did all this come up now?”

“Why do you think?” Danielle gave a nod to the south-facing wall. “She didn’t just have an issue with Max.”

“The new neighbor?” Walt asked.

“Yep. According to the chief, she has been down at city hall asking all sorts of questions about the legalities of running a bed and breakfast—although she kept referring to it as a motel—in a residential neighborhood. I guess someone down there was tired of her badgering them, so they decided to show her the process and in doing so discovered a vital step had been skipped when our license was issued.

“The chief doesn’t think the city would have revoked our license over this if our lovely neighbor wasn’t making such a big deal out of it. But there was no way for them to sweep this under the carpet. And considering Renton’s history, the city understands I probably wasn’t aware of his shortcut. But still, I can’t operate the B and B without a business license.”

Walt tossed the letter on the coffee table and wrapped one arm around Danielle’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “Ironic we were just discussing closing the B and B on our flight home.”

She leaned against him and let out a sigh. “I know, but to be forced to close, that makes me want to keep it open!”

Walt gave her a little squeeze and then dropped a quick kiss on her head before saying, “But just think, you’ll get the last laugh. I don’t imagine you’ll need a business license for what we were talking about.”

Danielle chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. So maybe this is a sign?”

“Sign?” he asked.

“That we go ahead with what we talked about on the way home.”

“Unless we hold a hearing with the neighbors and hope Pearl doesn’t manage to get the license denied, it looks like your bed and breakfast is closed. So we either do nothing or what we discussed,” Walt said.

“As much as I hate giving up without a fight, I think with everything that has happened—with what we want for our future—then in some ways Pearl Huckabee has made it all easier for me.”

“Gave you the shove you needed to make up your mind once and for all?” Walt asked.

“Yeah. Maybe I should go thank her?” Danielle chuckled.

“I’m sure she would appreciate it,” Walt teased.

Kicking off her shoes and propping her stockinged feet on the coffee table, Danielle said, “I wonder why she is such an unpleasant woman. According to the chief, that house has been in her family for years, and she bought it from some cousins.”

“I wonder if she’s related to Elmer Morton. That might explain her disposition.”

Danielle looked to Walt. “Elmer Morton? Who’s that?”

“That’s who was living next door—in Pearl Huckabee’s house—when I died,” Walt explained.

“Her maiden name might have been Morton. From what I understand, she’s a widow and Huckabee was her husband’s name,” Danielle said. “So why did you say it might explain her disposition?”

“Morton and I never got along. He was about my grandfather’s age. Pious old coot, an avid supporter of prohibition. And I’m pretty sure he was a member of the local Klan.”

“Seems like such an oxymoron.”

Walt frowned. “In what way?”

“How can you be pious and belong to an organization like the KKK?” Danielle asked.

Walt shrugged. “Sadly, it wasn’t uncommon.”

“You’ve never mentioned him before.”

“Not much to tell. Morton and I tended to avoid each other. Although, I imagine he got the last laugh when I died and became a customer.”

Danielle frowned. “Last laugh?”

“He owned the local mortuary, Morton Funeral Home.”

“Morton Funeral Home? It’s still here,” Danielle said. “The chief mentioned he heard one of Pearl’s relatives still lives in Frederickport and was one of the owners who sold the property to her. But he didn’t know who it was. I wonder if it’s whoever owns the funeral home now.”

“It’s possible.”

“I’m assuming Morton had children, if Pearl is one of his descendants,” Danielle said. “What were they like? Did you know them?”

“He had twin daughters. They were babies when I died.”

“Babies?” Danielle frowned.

“Yes. Old Man Morton’s first wife died in childbirth, giving birth to stillborn twins.”

“How sad,” Danielle murmured. “But you said he had twin daughters?”

“His second wife was much younger. Much. At the time he was courting her, he lived at the funeral home, but from what I heard, she refused to live there.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame her.”

“Why? You’re always hanging out with dead people. Seems like the perfect place for you,” he teased.

Danielle playfully elbowed Walt. “Oh hush. Go on with your story.”

Max, who had been napping at the end of the sofa, opened his eyes and then jumped down to the floor and sauntered out of the parlor.

“Was it something I said?” Danielle asked as she watched the cat leave the room.

“I think we were making too much noise for him,” Walt said.

Danielle rolled her eyes and then turned to Walt. “Go on with your story.”

“Morton bought the house next door. The couple who had lived there had passed away, and it had been vacant for a few years. Not long after that he moved in with his new bride. She was pregnant right away, and like his first wife, with twins. Sadly, she also died in childbirth, but this time, the babies lived.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s heartbreaking. I hate those kinds of stories, especially with Lily being pregnant.”

“Lily will be fine,” Walt promised, giving Danielle’s knee a pat.

“I’d like to think childbirth is safe for women these days, but there are still complications.”

“I don’t imagine Lily is going to give birth at home with a midwife, as did both of Morton’s wives,” Walt said.

“And he raised the twins by himself?” Danielle asked.

“He hired a full-time nanny who moved into the house. Initially I assumed he would move back to the funeral home with the babies; it would have been more convenient for him. But Katherine O’Malley knew the nanny, and she told me the wife had made her husband promise on her deathbed not to raise her daughters in a funeral home. I guess she was superstitious, and he honored her wishes, at least while I was alive.”

“Considering the age of Pearl Huckabee, one of the twins could be her grandmother or mother,” Danielle speculated. “I wonder what happened to them.”

“I imagine Marie knew them,” Walt suggested. “They would have been a couple of years older than Marie, but they would have gone to school together.”

“Funny, when I discussed Pearl with Marie, she didn’t seem to know anything about Pearl’s family or background.”

Walt shrugged. “Maybe she just didn’t make the connection. After all, it has been a long time.”

“True.” Danielle leaned back against the sofa and quietly considered all that Walt had told her.

After a few minutes of silence, Walt asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“There are no kids on Beach Drive. It’s funny to think that back when you lived here—in your first life—there was a baby across the street and two little ones next door. And in a few months, there will be a baby across the street again.”

“And maybe in the not so distant future, a baby on this side of the street.” Walt pulled her onto his lap.

Wrapping her arms around her husband, Danielle dropped a quick kiss on his lips and whispered, “Remember, I said I wanted to be married for at least a year before we start planning babies. And we just came back from our honeymoon.”

Walt pulled her closer and returned her kiss—yet not a quick one, as hers had been. His was slower and more deliberate, which she fully appreciated. When the kiss ended, he whispered, “Our one-year anniversary is less than three months away.”

Danielle gave him an exuberant hug while whispering in his ear, “So it is.”