The Ghost and the Silver Scream Page 15

  “Maybe not, but contracts can be broken, and this one does have a morality clause.”

  “I’m not sure how asking Seraphina to join me would be a violation of the clause.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking of Phoebe,” she said.

  Chase stared at her a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally he said, “I told you already. Phoebe was lying. Nothing happened.”

  “No. Nothing happened because Teddy walked in.”

  “I explained what happened. You said you understood,” he said.

  “Yes. Considering what went on between her and Barry, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. But I will believe Seraphina if she tells me you’ve stepped out of line.”

  “I’m sure Seraphina can take care of herself, Birdie. She doesn’t need you to intervene. What’s the deal, you taking over where Randy left off?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on. We all knew she was Randy’s pet project. He loved to tell everyone how he discovered her singing in that little club. Hell, I was surprised he didn’t make himself her agent.”

  “Leave my husband out of this,” she said sharply.

  “It might have been Polly,” Marie said sadly when she joined Danielle and Lily.

  “Marie is here,” Danielle told Lily before turning to Marie and asking, “Why do you say that?”

  Marie recounted what she had overheard.

  “What did she say?” Lily asked.

  Danielle told her.

  “And she doesn’t know what they argued about?” Lily asked.

  “According to Eva, she overheard Teddy and Polly arguing. Polly did accuse Teddy of having some sort of relationship with Phoebe—which he denied,” Marie said.

  Again, Danielle played translator.

  “So you think Polly confronted Phoebe about her and Teddy?” Lily asked.

  “Sort of sounds that way,” Danielle said.

  Glancing to the sofa, the two women and one ghost watched as both Bentley and Polly stood up. Polly walked to the door leading to the hallway, while Bentley went in the opposite direction. The three turned their attention to Bentley. A moment earlier Chase had abandoned the chair next to Birdie, and Bentley claimed it. They watched as Bentley leaned close to Birdie and whispered something in her ear.

  “I wonder what he overheard last night,” Danielle said, her eyes still on Jackie’s assistant.

  Polly stepped out of the downstairs bathroom and shut the door. She looked toward the doorway leading to the living room. Chris and Seraphina were no longer standing in the foyer talking, and she wondered briefly if they had joined the others in the living room or had gone somewhere else. The sound of voices drifted out from the living room.

  A meow distracted her attention. She glanced to the left and noticed the Marlows’ black cat walking toward the door leading to the basement. She followed the cat. When she got to the door leading to the stairwell, she spied Max’s tail disappear into the darkness.

  Polly stood by the open doorway, considering the basement’s secrets. After a moment, she turned and made her way back to the living room. She needed another drink.

  Twenty-Three

  Polly sat in the darkness, watching the last flickering of the dying flames in Marlow House’s living room fireplace. Sometime during the evening she had switched from wine to gin. When dinner was served in the dining room, she had no appetite, yet she had sat with the others at the table and then later returned with them to the living room. But the Bartleys, Chris Johnson and the housekeeper had all gone home. The others had retired to their rooms, and considering how quiet it was, she assumed they were all in their beds sleeping. She wasn’t completely alone, the Marlows’ black cat was curled up on the end of the sofa, yet he too was asleep. She had told Teddy she would be up shortly, but that had been over an hour ago. He obviously hadn’t noticed his wife had never come upstairs.

  Morbid and vengeful thoughts danced in her head. She thought of all the ways she could kill the man she loved. And she did love Teddy. She would not have endured all his emotional abuse had she not loved him. Although, she had never considered it emotional abuse, not until recently. Until recently she had never—not even for a moment—considered her husband had been unfaithful. After all, he was the one who had fits of jealousy if she so much as smiled at another man.

  Polly took another sip of the gin and then swished the remaining contents in the glass. Those times Teddy displayed fits of jealousy—as he had over her casual friendship with Julius—had reassured her of his love. After all, would a man who didn’t love her care if she had an affair?

  Even Teddy’s interference in her career was because he adored her—or so she had thought. He didn’t want to share her with the world. Those times he had been short with her, she attributed to the stress of his demanding job—a job that provided her with every luxury imaginable, especially for someone who had come from a lower middle-class family.

  A voice interrupted her thoughts by asking, “Are you ever coming up to bed?”

  Polly looked to the doorway and saw her husband. He stood just inside the room, wearing a bathrobe over his silk pajamas.

  “I don’t think so,” she said sharply, looking away from Teddy and back to the fireplace. She took another drink of gin.

  Teddy marched into the room and grabbed the glass from Polly’s hand, sending its remaining contents splashing out on her and the sofa. Polly made a little yelping sound of protest, waking the sleeping cat from his slumber. Max eyed the two humans with annoyance and then jumped to the floor and headed out of the room.

  “You got that all over me and the couch!” Polly said.

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not enough,” she snapped back.

  “What is wrong with you?” He set the empty glass on the coffee table.

  Polly glared at Teddy. “I put up with a lot from you. But I won’t tolerate you cheating on me.”

  “We’ve already gone over this. Nothing happened between me and Phoebe. Nothing,” he insisted.

  Glaring at her husband, Polly said, “That’s not what Phoebe told me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “I spoke to Phoebe before she left. She admitted there had been something, briefly. She told me there have been others besides her. She wasn’t the first, or the last.”

  Expressionless, Teddy stared at Polly for a moment before asking, “What do you intend to do?”

  “Sue you for divorce,” she told him.

  “You are not going to divorce me,” he said.

  “Watch me.”

  “And then what? How are you going to support yourself? You don’t have much of an acting career anymore. I suppose you can move in with your brother while you try to get it going again.”

  “Are you forgetting that prenup you made me sign?” she asked.

  “Obviously I’m not. You seem to forget that according to the prenup, you don’t get a dime of my money in a divorce.”

  “And the clause my brother insisted be included? The clause that says if you cheat, then half of your assets are mine.”

  He smiled. “You can try it, but you have to prove I’ve been unfaithful. You can’t.”

  She glared at him. “I have Phoebe.”

  “No. You have Phoebe admitting—when the two of you were alone—that maybe something happened. You can’t take that to court, and I guarantee you, you’ll never get Phoebe to testify against me. Ever.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

  “I just know.”

  Polly cleared her throat and looked Teddy in the eyes. “What now?”

  “Now we forget this little conversation ever happened, and we go upstairs to bed.”

  “Do you want to be married to me?” she asked.

  He frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

  “How you treat me, for one.”

  “You’ve never complained before,” he said.
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  “I have. You haven’t listened.”

  “I work in an extremely stressful profession, long hours to provide you everything you could ever want. You, on the other hand, aren’t required to do anything aside from look beautiful and be by my side when needed. I don’t understand why you would complain. Your only job is to make me happy, and if you feel I mistreat you in some way, then perhaps I’m not happy, and you’re not doing your job. I give you everything—a beautiful home, clothes, jewelry, trips…”

  “What about the other women?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “If I’m turning to other women, perhaps you aren’t doing your job there either.”

  “What do you want from me, Teddy?”

  “I want you to stop this nonsense and go upstairs. And I don’t want to hear about Phoebe ever again. Do you understand? Or I will instigate the divorce, and I will make certain you leave our marriage without a penny. And that non-career of yours? Don’t count on reviving it. Because you will never work in this business again. Do you understand?”

  Polly nodded silently and stood up. She walked past Teddy to the open doorway to the foyer. He followed her. When they stepped out of the living room, Polly stopped a moment and looked around. The main lighting had been turned off when the Marlows had gone upstairs, yet they had left some lights on so their guests would not be stumbling around in total darkness. She looked toward the basement and considered her options and remembered the fantasies she had been playing over in her head before Teddy had come downstairs.

  “Are you coming?” Teddy asked.

  She turned to him. “The cat.”

  “The cat what?”

  “I promised Danielle I would make sure the basement door was closed before I went upstairs. She doesn’t want her cat going down there at night, and he just left the living room. I’m afraid he might have gone down there.”

  “Why wouldn’t she have just checked it herself before coming upstairs?” he asked.

  “Please, Teddy. It’ll only take a minute. Will you come with me? It’s kind of scary down that back hallway.”

  Teddy let out a sigh and then said, “Fine. Let’s check and then go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  “Thank you,” she said in her most timid voice.

  When they reached the door to the basement, they found it open—open like it had been when Polly had looked into the basement earlier that evening. Teddy walked into the stairwell and flipped on the lights.

  “Is the cat in there?” Polly asked.

  “I don’t know,” he snapped. “Go look.”

  “Please, Teddy, just look down there for me. This place creeps me out.”

  Teddy took a deep breath. He didn’t feel comfortable poking around in the near darkness. There had been that incident of the painting floating down the hallway, practically hitting him in the face. Shortly before it had happened, he had consumed some chocolate infused with cannabis. He had assumed it had all been some drug-induced episode—although he had never hallucinated with pot before. Since then he had been on edge, so much so that he imagined his underwear had briefly taken on a life of its own.

  Standing on the landing, looking down the stairs, he said, “I don’t see the cat. I don’t really want to go down there.”

  In the next moment Teddy learned we don’t always get what we want when a hand shoved his back, catching him off balance and sending him tumbling head over feet down the stairwell, until he landed with a thud on the cement floor below.

  He hadn’t even screamed. She had expected him to scream after she pushed him. But she wasn’t too worried about anyone hearing. Birdie wore hearing aids, and everyone else was upstairs. However, there was one thing she hadn’t considered—the blood. As he tumbled like a hapless rag doll down the stairs, it suddenly occurred to her that when he hit the floor, the fall could crack open his head and spill blood all over the concrete floor. Head wounds were known to bleed excessively. How would she ever clean it up?

  But to her surprise, there was no blood. Not a single drop. When he landed, he didn’t hit his head on the floor, yet she was fairly certain by the angle of his head that he had snapped his neck.

  Holding onto the railing, she slowly made her way down the stairs. While she was fairly certain the snapped neck had done the trick, she needed to make sure. After reaching him, she hesitantly felt for his pulse. Nothing.

  For a brief moment she considered leaving him there for someone to find. It would look as if he had tripped—it was all a horrible accident. But then she thought better of it. They would wonder why he went down to the basement. And hadn’t he gone upstairs before her? Plus, Bentley knew she had argued with Phoebe over her husband’s infidelity. There was no guarantee he hadn’t told someone what he had overheard, regardless of his promise. No, there would be too many questions. She glanced over to the hook holding the key to the tunnel entrance and smiled.

  I’ll tell them he couldn’t sleep and told me he was going to go for a walk on the beach. When they ask me what time it was, I’ll tell them I don’t know. I was asleep when he woke me up to tell me he was going. I can do this. I’m an actress. I can play the convincing role of a concerned wife, she told herself.

  Polly stepped over Teddy’s broken body and retrieved the key from the hook. She unlocked and opened the first door blocking the tunnel. She peered inside—it was dark. She entered the opening and used her hands to feel for the padlock. Had she thought to bring her cellphone, which was upstairs in her room, she could use it as a flashlight. The overhead lighting in the basement did little to illuminate the small space, even with the door left open. In spite of the darkness, she managed to unlock the second padlock.

  After returning the key to the hook, she went to Teddy and looked down at him, deciding how best to move him. Grabbing hold of his feet, she tucked one under her right arm and the other under her left arm and tried dragging him toward the tunnel entrance. She managed to slowly drag him across the floor, occasionally changing positions—sometimes walking backwards as she dragged him, and then dragging him behind her.

  It took longer than she had imagined it would, but she finally maneuvered him into the first entrance. The trick would be getting him through the second door. It was pitch dark, and she couldn’t see inside the second opening to the tunnel. She had no intention of walking into the tunnel and dragging him in. No, she would instead lie on her back and then use her feet to shove his body through the opening.

  Polly stood alone by the stairwell, looking back to the now locked doorway leading to the first tunnel entrance. She had worked up a sweat and desperately needed a shower, yet she didn’t want to wake anyone up. She would have to take a sponge bath before going to bed, she told herself. It might have been backbreaking, but she had managed to shove Teddy into the dark opening.

  Dusting her hands off on the sides of her slacks, she made her way up the stairwell. Once she reached the first-floor landing, she turned off the basement light and stepped out to the rear hallway leading to the foyer.

  “What are you doing?” An unexpected voice caught her by surprise.

  Polly looked up into Bentley’s face.

  Twenty-Four

  Danielle woke up early Monday morning to the sound of a text message beeping her cellphone. She groaned and rolled toward her nightstand. With her sleep-laden eyes still closed, she clumsily reached out for the phone, her hand missing its mark on the first and second tries, aimlessly slapping the nightstand until she found what she was looking for. Opening her eyes and now clutching the phone, she sat up in bed and looked to see which of her annoying close friends chose to send her a message so early. She didn’t imagine for a moment it was an emergency. Had it been an emergency, they would call, not text.

  Looking at the phone, she read the message.

  Tell Seraphina jog date is on. Allergies. Let me know if she’s going.

  Danielle let out a grunt and set the phone back on the nightstand.

  “What time is it?” she heard
Walt say as she climbed out of bed.

  “Early, go back to sleep. I have to go downstairs,” she explained.

  Scooting up in the bed, Walt leaned against the headboard and looked at Danielle. “What’s going on?”

  “Heather just sent me a text. She wants me to tell Seraphina the jog date is back on if she wants to go. Obviously they did not exchange phone numbers, or she would have texted her.”

  “I thought Heather was sick?” Walt asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “Lily said Heather thought she was coming down with a cold. That’s why the jog date was put on hold. But according to Heather’s text, she says it’s allergies, and she wants to go now. I’m going to see if Seraphina still wants to join her.”

  “I thought Seraphina said last night she’d just go by herself?” Walt asked.

  “Yeah. Which is why I need to hurry, see if I can catch her.”

  Throwing on her robe, Danielle dropped a quick kiss on Walt’s lips and headed out of their bedroom. A moment later she returned, grabbed her cellphone off the nightstand, and then left again.

  When she reached the second floor several minutes later, she went to Seraphina’s room. The door was ajar, so she peeked inside instead of knocking. The room was empty. Danielle then checked the bathrooms, but she wasn’t in either one, so she headed downstairs.

  Danielle found Seraphina in the kitchen, sitting at the table, typing something into her cellphone. “Good morning,” Danielle greeted her.

  Seraphina looked up in surprise and smiled. “You’re up early. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No. We don’t hear much in the attic. But Heather texted me and said she’s up to jogging this morning if you still want to join her.” Danielle then noticed Seraphina was already dressed to go jogging.