It was the last Monday in March, and Walt and Danielle were on their way to Adam Nichols’s office. Sitting in the passenger seat of the Packard, Danielle leaned back against the car door and watched Walt as he drove the vintage vehicle down the road. She was amazed at how natural and comfortable he appeared—not remotely apprehensive behind the wheel.
Today he wore the denims Lily and Ian had given him for Christmas. But instead of the flannel shirt that had come with the pants, Walt wore a pressed white long-sleeved shirt and leather vest. He reminded her a bit of a cowboy in the clothes. But not one who rode the range—the kind who sat in some Texas boardroom making a fortune off oil rigs or cattle ranches. She had found the vest in a vintage shop. And while it wasn’t the type Walt the spirit had worn with his three-piece pin-striped suits, it reminded Danielle of him. Now all he needed was a pair of cowboy boots and hat.
“You’re staring at me,” Walt said with a chuckle, his eyes darting to Danielle and then back down the road.
“I like looking at you.”
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
“You like looking at yourself?” Danielle teased.
Walt grinned. “You know what I meant.”
Danielle let out a satisfied sigh and repositioned herself in the seat, now leaning back and looking out the front windshield. “It is going to be nice having guests again next week. While I’ve enjoyed having the house to ourselves, I’ve missed the bed and breakfast.”
“I’m surprised to say I have too. Never imagined I would feel that way when you first told me what you planned to do with Marlow House.”
“You were dead at the time. What did you know?”
Walt chuckled. “You have a point.”
Danielle let out another sigh.
“What’s with all the sighs?” Walt asked as he turned down Main Street on the way to Adam’s office.
“I keep thinking of Pearl and what makes her tick. I’d hoped Marie knew something about her family.” After Marie had told Danielle and Walt about what had happened to the Morton twins, Danielle had hoped she would be able to tell them something about Pearl’s family, who had moved into the house after it had been sold. Marie could not recall the family, yet she suggested someone who might know something—Millie Samson.
Walt pulled the Packard up in front of the museum and parked.
“What are we doing here?” Danielle asked.
“Marie told us Millie Samson might know something,” Walt reminded her. “While I’m not sure learning about Pearl’s family is going to help us deal with our neighbor, I know your curiosity is driving you crazy.”
Making no attempt to get out of the car, Danielle glanced over to the museum. “She might not even be here.”
“Or she might be,” Walt reminded her.
“I don’t want her to think I just dropped by the museum to pump her for information on our neighbor.”
“I’m sure you can come up with a good story,” Walt said as he opened his car door. “You’re good at that.”
“True,” Danielle conceded as she got out of the vehicle.
They started toward the museum. Danielle paused a moment and pointed to a car parked nearby. “Looks like we’re in luck. That’s Millie’s car.”
“Hello, Danielle, Walt,” Millie greeted them several minutes later when they walked into the museum gift shop. The elderly woman stood behind the counter, affixing price tags on newly arrived inventory.
“Afternoon, Millie. We were on our way to Adam’s office, and I remembered those Marlow House Bed and Breakfast brochures the museum handed out for me, and thought I’d pick them up.”
“Oh yes, I was going to call you and see what you wanted me to do with them.” Millie reached under the counter and retrieved a stack of brochures. “I didn’t want to just throw them away. I thought you might get that business license worked out and reopen.”
“Not sure about that,” Danielle said, taking the stack of brochures from Millie.
“It really is a shame you had to close. I heard your new neighbor is the one who caused such a ruckus.”
“She is definitely opposed to a B and B in the neighborhood,” Danielle said. “Umm…I can’t recall who mentioned it, but someone said you knew Pearl’s family.”
“Pearl?” Millie frowned.
“Pearl Huckabee, our new neighbor. The one opposed to the B and B,” Danielle explained.
Millie shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met her.”
“From what I understand, the house has been in her family for years. They bought it from the Mortons—the ones who owned the funeral home.”
“Really? Yes, I did know that family. I can’t recall their name. But I know it wasn’t Huckabee. I was about twelve when they moved into the house. The wife was in Mother’s bridge group. She had two daughters about my age. Her husband was a traveling salesman.” Millie paused a moment, chuckled and shook her head.
“What’s funny?” Danielle asked.
“I didn’t really know the girls very well; they went to a private Catholic school. But I remember going to the beach with them once—with our mothers. When I was alone with the girls, they told me their father had died.” Millie chuckled again.
Danielle arched her brows. “Umm…and that was funny?”
Millie shook her head quickly. “Oh, no! I guess that did sound strange. No, it was what my mother told me later when I got home that night. She said their father had not died—he had run away with some woman and never came home from one of his business trips. I always thought that so odd the girls would rather say their father had died than their parents had divorced. But they were Catholic; maybe that was why. I am assuming the parents got a divorce. Although, it is entirely possible they stayed married. I know his wife never remarried.”
“Did the daughters seriously believe he had died?” Danielle asked.
Millie shook her head. “Not according to my mother. But that’s what the family told people. Of course, my mother knew the truth.”
“Perhaps that house has some kind of curse,” Walt suggested.
“Curse?” Millie frowned.
“From what I understand, the previous owner was jilted by her fiancé when he ran off with her sister. And then the same thing basically happened to the next owner,” Walt explained.
“Oh my, I’ve never thought of that before, but you are right!” Millie said. “And the Morton twins…” Millie shook her head. “You have no idea how all that affected my poor husband.”
“Your husband?” Danielle asked. Marie had told her about the connection between Millie and the Mortons, but Danielle couldn’t tell Millie that.
“My husband’s older brother was in love with the Morton girl who ran away. When she took off with another boy, he was devastated. He killed himself.”
“That’s tragic,” Danielle said.
“Bruce never believed it was suicide. He insisted Lewis would never have killed himself over a girl,” Millie told them. “Of course, Bruce was just a young boy at the time, and he idolized his older brother.”
“I’m assuming Bruce was your husband?” Walt asked.
Millie nodded. “Yes.”
Walt studied Millie a moment before asking, “Did they suspect foul play?”
Millie shook her head. “No. He died after his car went off Pilgrim’s Point. The police believed he intentionally drove off the cliff, but my husband never believed it. It drove him crazy for people to think his brother had killed himself. And it was devastating for my in-laws.”
“Why did the police believe it was intentional and not an accident?” Walt asked.
“There was a witness who saw the car drive off the cliff. They claimed it hadn’t been speeding. And there were no skid marks at the scene, which substantiated the witness’s claim.”
“Maybe he had been drinking,” Danielle suggested.
“No. The coroner report said he hadn’t been drinking. Bruce suggested he fell asleep at the wheel, but considering the time of the accident, the police didn’t buy that scenario. Plus, he had made quite a scene several days earlier when he found out Daisy—that was the twin he was in love with—had taken off with someone else. He refused to believe it was true. The police felt that when he realized it was true, he snapped and couldn’t deal with it and took his life.”
“Do you think he committed suicide?” Danielle asked.
Millie smiled sadly. “I feel disloyal to my husband to suggest it was suicide. But I’m afraid there really is no other explanation, especially if you look objectively at all the evidence. And my husband was looking at it all through the eyes of a very young and naive boy who had his older brother on a pedestal and couldn’t imagine him ever doing something like that. Bruce used to say, Lewis would never do that to me. He always promised to be here for me.”
“So tragic…” Danielle murmured.
“Yes. Yes, it was.” Millie took a deep breath and then smiled at Danielle. “Back to your neighbor, you say she might be related to my mother’s friend?”
“Pearl claims the house has been in her family for a long time, so I would assume so. I heard she has some relatives who live in town, but they aren’t on friendly terms.”
“Well, if she is related to my mother’s friend—it could be Ruby Crabtree,” Millie suggested.
“Ruby Crabtree, the one who owns the Seahorse Motel?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. Ruby and I talked about it once. This was a number of years ago. I don’t recall how the conversation came up, but we were talking about Mother’s friend whose husband had run off, yet preferred to pretend he was dead, and Ruby told me the woman was her aunt. Ruby’s father was the woman’s brother, but they had been estranged for years, up until Ruby’s father passed away.”
“Her aunt?” Danielle frowned. “Considering Ruby’s age, I would assume your mother’s friend would be more Ruby’s grandmother’s age.”
“Ruby’s father was much older than her mother—old enough to be Ruby’s grandfather.”
“Do you know if Ruby had ownership in the house?” Walt asked.
“The house next door to you?” Millie asked.
“Yes,” Danielle answered for Walt. “From what we understand, Pearl bought the house from some relatives. According to what we’ve heard, they didn’t all get along. I have to wonder if Ruby is one of the cousins who sold the house to Pearl.”
Millie shrugged. “I seriously doubt it. Like I said, they had been estranged for years, up until the time Mother’s friend passed away. I would assume that when she died, she would leave the house to her two daughters, not to a niece—especially a niece she had nothing to do with. According to Ruby, she really didn’t know her aunt. And she certainly didn’t mention inheriting any property from her. I would assume your neighbor Pearl is probably a granddaughter of Mother’s friend, considering her age.”
“If Ruby isn’t one of Pearl’s Frederickport relatives who owned a share of the property, I wonder who it is?” Danielle said.
“You did say you were on your way to Adam Nichols’s office. I’m sure he knows—or can easily find out, considering he is a real estate broker,” Millie reminded them.