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The Ghost and the Silver Scream Page 26
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Danielle and Walt reserved comment and continued to listen.
“My husband was utterly furious. You have no idea how angry he was. I thought he was going to kill the young man.”
“This wasn’t Randy?” Danielle asked.
Birdie shook her head. “Heavens no. Randy was the polar opposite of Christie’s father. If we’d had children, he wouldn’t have blinked an eye if any of them married someone who wasn’t white.”
“So what happened?” Danielle asked.
“We forbade her to see him, but she was seventeen and went behind our backs. When she turned eighteen, she told us she was pregnant and planned to marry him. We told her that she either get an abortion and never see him again, or we would disown her.”
“She didn’t get an abortion,” Danielle said quietly.
Birdie shook her head. “I never saw her again. In the beginning, I tried to talk my husband into changing his position, but he wouldn’t budge. I’m not casting the blame solely on him; I let it happen.”
“So Seraphina’s parents who died in the car accident, they were your daughter and her husband?” Walt asked.
“No. About a year after Seraphina was born, Christie and her husband were killed in a house fire. The baby survived. Christie’s husband had no family, and to our surprise they had a will and had appointed her father and I as Seraphina’s guardians should something happen to them. I suspect she did that because she had no one else, and she assumed we would come around and accept our granddaughter if the unimaginable happened.”
“But you didn’t,” Walt said quietly.
Birdie closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them. If a ghost were capable of tears, they would be running down her face. “Not when Seraphina needed us. But we did arrange for a private adoption with a black family—under the condition that she never be told the true origin of her birth.”
“And then they died,” Danielle said.
“It was years before I learned that,” Birdie said. “My husband forbade any contact with the family who adopted her. But after my first husband died and I met Randy, I had a private investigator find her. I wanted to see how she was. I was shocked to discover she had been raised in foster care.”
“So you sought her out?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. She was playing in a little club. I just wanted to make it up to her. But I couldn’t tell her who I was. She would hate me. I wouldn’t blame her.”
“So why did you kill Randy and the others?” Danielle asked.
“That’s what I need you to help me figure out,” Birdie said.
“I don’t understand,” Danielle said with a frown.
“I was angry with them. But I don’t understand why I felt I had to kill them. It was something I just couldn’t prevent—a compulsion is the best I can explain it. And now, now with death, that need, that compulsion, it’s gone.”
“Start by telling us why you were angry with them,” Walt suggested.
“I became jealous over Randy’s relationship with Seraphina. It was so natural with him. He was so good with her, and she seemed to look at him like a surrogate parent. I wanted her to see me that way. So I tampered with his heart medication. I killed my beloved Randy.”
“He didn’t blame you. He tried to protect you even while he wanted to stop others from getting hurt,” Danielle said.
“Yes. He told me. He promised to wait for me on the other side when I’m finished here. Even though I’ll probably be sent somewhere else, considering what I’ve done. And I am prepared to pay for my sins; I’m not afraid. But, Randy believes now something physically was wrong with me. He wants you to make sure they do an autopsy on my body. When Randy saw me again on this side, he became more convinced there was a physiological reason for my violent actions.”
“And the others? What issues did you have with them?” Danielle asked.
“Phoebe was obvious; she hurt Seraphina. With Chase, I believed he had stumbled on the truth regarding my relationship with Seraphina, and Bentley was starting to ask too many questions, and by some of the things he said, I was afraid he had seen me with Phoebe that last night, yet I had told everyone I hadn’t seen her.”
“Randy told us Moon Runners got him killed. Do you know why he said that?” Walt asked.
“It was because Randy is the one who approached Jackie about Moon Runners. He’s the one who got Seraphina the role. That sent my jealousy out of control. I wanted to be the one to give her things, not Randy.”
Danielle opened the front door and welcomed the chief into the house.
“Thanks for stopping by. Let’s go in the parlor. Walt’s in there,” Danielle said after closing the door.
“It was no problem. I was planning to stop by and talk to you after I checked on Pearl, anyway.”
“How’s she doing?” Danielle asked, leading the way.
“I think relieved, since I told her we recommended charges not be pressed against her.”
They walked through the parlor doorway and Danielle said, “But didn’t you pretty much tell her that yesterday?”
“Morning, Chief,” Walt called out from the sofa.
“Walt,” MacDonald said with a nod. He looked back to Danielle and said, “Yes, but she was so hysterical I don’t think she heard me.”
MacDonald took a seat in one of the chairs across from the sofa, while Danielle sat next to Walt.
“So what did you need to tell me?” the chief asked.
“Birdie was here,” Danielle began. She then told him everything that had been said.
“She’s her grandmother?” the chief said after Danielle finished the story.
“That’s what she claimed.”
“Are you going to tell Seraphina? Does Birdie want you to tell her?” MacDonald asked.
“Birdie left before I even considered asking that question,” Danielle said. “And I don’t know if she’s coming back. I have a feeling she moved on. She did what she needed to do, and she said Randy was waiting for her on the other side.”
“Randy? That’s the husband she murdered?” MacDonald asked.
Danielle smiled at the chief. “When people move over, things from this side look a little different. It’s easier to forgive.”
“Are you going to tell Seraphina Birdie is her grandmother?”
“I’m not sure. Obviously, if I do, I’ll have to say Birdie told me at gunpoint, not after she died. And then figure out a reason why I didn’t say something before. I don’t know.” Danielle shrugged. “But Walt and I talked about it after Birdie left.”
“What do you think, Walt?” the chief asked.
“I’m not sure what the point would be,” Walt said. “It may not be in Seraphina’s best interest. As it is she’s having difficulty understanding how her friend Birdie committed such atrocities. But then to discover she was her grandmother.”
“But we’re going to discuss it with Chris when he gets back from Portland,” Danielle said.
“What about the autopsy?” Walt asked. “Would it be possible for them to look a little closer, see if there was some physical reason for her behavior?”
“Chief,” Danielle interrupted before he could answer Walt’s question, “I think there may be something to this. Birdie didn’t seem apprehensive about moving on to the next side—not a typical reaction for someone who has murdered four people.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” the chief muttered.
“One thing I’ve learned,” Danielle continued, “spirits aren’t that much different from the person they were when they were alive. Once they pass over and understand they’re dead, they may see things from a little different perspective—yet really no more than a person who has broadened their views after traveling to another country or had some profound experience. But with Birdie, she didn’t understand why she did those things. That’s not a typical response for a spirit, in my opinion. A spirit might feel remorse and regret, but not this type of confusion at this stage. And I would expect her to be
feeling some apprehension about moving on, considering what she did.”
“I’d assume physiological changes that would alter behavior would take place in the brain. And considering our killer’s head injuries, if something is there, the coroner might find it without me mentioning anything. But I will talk to him.” The chief then turned to Danielle and said, “I also need a favor.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Polly is being moved today, and she has requested Walt come talk to her before she leaves. But I think you should be the one to do it, not Walt. You’re better at this.”
Danielle frowned. “I don’t understand. Talk to her about what?”
“She wants to know why he said he saw Teddy after she had killed him.” The chief glanced at his watch and then looked back at Danielle. “And you have about an hour to make up a story to tell her before they pick her up. By the way, Brian and Joe will be listening in when you tell her. They’ve also been wondering why Walt claimed to have seen Teddy after he’d been killed.”
Danielle sat alone in the interrogation room, waiting for Polly to be brought to her. She glanced over at the two-way mirror and frowned. She knew she had an audience for this performance.
A few minutes later Officer Carpenter brought Polly to the room. Danielle couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, she looked utterly pitiful.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” Polly said, taking a seat across from Danielle. “But I’ll be honest, I was hoping your husband would come. I wanted to ask him why he said he saw Teddy that morning.”
“That was my fault,” Danielle lied. “I told Walt to say that.”
“Why would you do that?” Polly asked.
“Umm…well, after they found Bentley’s body and Teddy seemed to be missing, I wondered if someone had done something to him.”
“But why tell us he saw Teddy?” Polly asked.
Danielle shrugged. “I just figured if any of you were responsible for Teddy going missing, that hearing Walt say he had just seen him would freak that person out, and they would do something to tip their hand. But that didn’t happen.”
“Where does Danielle come up with these lame ideas?” Joe asked. He stood with the chief and Brian, watching Danielle and Polly through the two-way mirror.
“Where indeed,” Brian said under his breath, his eyes still on Danielle.
“She could have totally screwed up this murder investigation,” Joe grumbled. “She and Walt should be charged with giving false information.”
“I don’t think making a false statement to your guests over breakfast falls into that category,” the chief said.
“She doesn’t know that,” Joe argued.
“I’ll have a talk with her,” the chief promised before leaving the room.
Joe looked to Brian and asked, “What do you think?”
Brian nodded toward the two women sitting at the table in the interrogation room. “I think the false statement Danielle made was in that room just now.”
Joe frowned. “Are you saying she didn’t tell Walt to lie? He lied on his own?”
Brian smiled, his eyes still on Danielle. “Not exactly…”
Forty
It was confirmed the following week that Moon Runners would not be made into a movie—at least it would not be produced by Jackie Stafford. While the movie deal had died, Walt’s book sales soared due to the recent publicity from the Moon Runner Murders. That is what the press had dubbed the series of events. Walt declined multiple offers to appear on morning and evening talk shows to discuss the killing spree. “I guess it’s true what they say,” Walt told Danielle. “Any publicity is good publicity.”
Seraphina also found herself in the spotlight. While Chris had agreed with Walt that telling Seraphina Birdie was her grandmother would just cause her pain, it all proved a moot point. It turned out that Birdie had left her entire estate to her granddaughter, along with a letter revealing their true connection. While Birdie’s estate was vast, they all expected the families of Birdie’s victims would be making claims against it—how much exactly was yet to be seen.
Danielle looked out their front window and glanced up the street. “Chris said his furniture is arriving later this afternoon.”
Walt looked up from the book he was reading. “Does this mean he’s going to be spending less time at our house and more at his own? I hope.”
Danielle turned from the window and said, “Oh, come on, Walt. You like Chris.”
“Yes, I like Chris. And I had no problem when he stayed here after his house burned down. Temporarily.”
“And he moved out when he knew we were having guests,” Danielle reminded, taking a seat across from him.
Walt closed the book and set it on his lap. “And the minute they left, he has been over here every day—several times a day. I can’t recall the last time I got up, and he wasn’t in our kitchen, drinking coffee.”
“Then you have a short memory, because he didn’t come over for coffee this morning.”
“That’s only because he’s moving into his house. He’ll be back.”
“You have to admit, it’s nice having the coffee ready when we get up every morning.” Danielle grinned.
Walt made a grunting sound and picked up his book, opening it.
“Chris says he feels comfortable over here; it feels like home to him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“But this isn’t his home. And we’re no longer running a B and B,” Walt reminded her.
“If you think about it, when he was living down the street, he wasn’t always dropping in.”
Walt glanced over his book at Danielle and cocked a brow.
“I’m serious! Yeah, he dropped over a lot—but no more than Lily. It’s just since he started staying at the foundation office. It’s kinda cold and unhomey over there.”
“Is unhomey a word?” Walt asked.
Danielle shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the writer.”
Walt flashed Danielle a smile and then looked back down at his book.
“I think now that Chris is moving into his new house, he’s going to be busy getting it in shape. We’ll have to start making our own coffee,” Danielle said.
“We could change the locks,” Walt muttered as he turned a page.
“Marie would just open the door for him,” Danielle teased.
“You have a point.”
A few minutes later, as Walt quietly read and Danielle picked up the newspaper, a cheerful, “Morning, guys,” came from the doorway, and Chris walked in. “Your front door was unlocked. I was wondering if I could borrow some coffee.”
Walt looked up from his book and said, “Make yourself at home.”
“You’re alright, Walt,” Chris said before heading for the kitchen.
Danielle chuckled. “You’re an old softy, Walt.”
“In the head,” he grumbled.
Losing his home to a house fire had taught Chris several lessons. The first, always double-check the burners on your stove before leaving the kitchen after you’ve been cooking. The second, the vagabond lifestyle was no longer his thing.
After his parents’ deaths, Chris had spent some time bouncing around, most notably living on a friend’s boat in Dana Point, California, before moving up to Oregon. He then lived at Marlow House before buying his home on Beach Drive.
After living in his own home—one that belonged to him and not his parents or a friend—Chris realized he rather liked having a place to call his own. Permanently moving into a section of the foundation headquarters was never an option. It might be large enough, and it might be able to accommodate necessary office and living spaces, while having a stunning view, but it was never a place he could call home.
When deciding to rebuild on his lot, many warned him it would take over a year to get a new house built. After all, there were house plans to have drawn, permits to take out, not to mention the actual construction. What those naysayers failed to consider was Chris’
s money, which had a magical way of speeding up the process. Within five months after the fire, he was moving into his new home.
Today was his housewarming party. The guest list included the regulars—his friends on Beach Drive, along with Adam and Melony. He also invited some of the neighbors, such as the Crawfords next door. But he didn’t include Pearl. He invited the chief and his boys, who would probably spend most of their time throwing the ball for Sadie and Hunny on the beach. He included Ian’s sister, Kelly, which meant her boyfriend, Joe, would be invited. Chris and Joe’s fellow officer Brian Henderson had a better relationship these days, so he asked Brian at the last minute, and when he was at Pier Café, Chris extended an invitation to Carla the waitress.
Chris had considered briefly having the party catered, but quickly changed his mind when Lily, Danielle and Heather suggested a potluck. He would buy the steaks and grill, while everyone would bring their favorite dish. He would also provide the beer and other beverages.
Chris’s guests who weren’t inside the house getting a tour were either sitting on the spacious patio on the back of the house overlooking the ocean, or taking a walk on the beach. Danielle stood with Walt on the sand, just beyond Chris’s patio, looking out to the sea.
“Would you like to move to a house with a view like this?” Walt asked.
“Nah. I love Marlow House. If I want to look at the ocean, I can walk across the street and borrow one of our friends’ views.”
Walt was about to respond when he heard someone calling their names. He glanced behind him and spied Chief MacDonald walking toward them from Chris’s back patio.