“I would love a cup,” Lily said as she sat at the table and then lifted the lid off the cake pan sitting in the middle of the table.
“Help yourself,” Danielle said just as Lily snatched one of the cinnamon rolls off the plate.
“I was going to.” Lily giggled.
Danielle chuckled and then grabbed a clean cup from the cupboard for Lily.
“I understand you have your hands full now,” Joanne said.
Pulling the sticky roll in half, Lily gave Joanne a questioning look.
“I ran into your sister-in-law at the grocery store this morning,” Joanne explained. “She tells me Connor isn’t just standing now, he’s jumping—and quite high. My, he is a precocious one! He’s barely six months. I don’t think my niece’s son could stand on his own until he was nine months.”
“Kelly sure is a chatty thing,” Lily grumbled under her breath before shoving a piece of roll in her mouth.
“One of my friend’s sons walked at nine months,” Danielle said as she brought the coffee cups to the table.
“Fact is, Connor is not doing that much jumping,” Lily said. Or standing, she thought.
“Little ones certainly keep you busy,” Joanne said. “But if he’s already standing—much less jumping—I’d say you have a pistol on your hands!”
Lily smiled dully at Joanne as she accepted a cup of coffee from Danielle. She then changed the subject and asked, “So when are your guests going to be here?”
“They should be arriving any time now,” Danielle said as she took a seat. Just as she sat down, she glanced at the kitchen window and spotted a man standing outside looking in at them.
“Either that’s one of them now who decided to come to the back door, or Seraphina’s fans are going to be more annoying than we imagined.”
As Danielle stood up, both Lily and Joanne turned around and looked at the window.
“What are you talking about?” Lily asked.
Danielle pointed to the window. “The man.”
“What man?” Lily asked.
Joanne stood up and made it to the door before Danielle. She jerked it open and looked outside. Glancing back to Danielle, she said, “There’s no one out here. What did you think you saw?”
“ANOTHER GHOST?” Lily asked Danielle after they left Joanne alone in the kitchen.
“I assume that’s what it has to be. I saw him standing there, even after Joanne opened the door and looked outside. And then he vanished.”
“And it wasn’t the ghost you saw the other day?” Lily asked.
Danielle shook her head. “No. It was another guy. Different person. Getting a little crowded around here.”
Danielle and Lily headed to the library to tell Walt what Danielle had just seen when the doorbell rang.
PHOEBE HAD DRIVEN the rental car from the Portland Airport to Frederickport, allowing Seraphina to sit in the back seat with Beatrice Adair—or Birdie, as she liked to be called. When Birdie had asked to travel with Seraphina, even offering to pay for all the travel expenses, Seraphina had said yes—and no.
While Seraphina appreciated all that Birdie and Randy had done for her, there was no reason for Birdie to continue picking up the tab. Seraphina could pay her own way—plus she was acutely aware of how much she owed Birdie.
The time had passed quickly from the airport to Frederickport, and they now stood on the front porch of Marlow House, waiting for someone to answer the door. Seraphina smiled inwardly, thinking about the first time they had met. She had thought Birdie the stereotypical rich white lady—or at least, how she had once imagined one might be, before she had met any. At sixty-three, Birdie had only slight creases around the corners of her brown eyes, and Seraphina would describe her as mature as opposed to old looking. If Birdie had ever been flighty or youthful, it was before Seraphina had met the woman.
Fair skinned, Birdie wore her thin blond hair down, its ends turning up into a slight flip at the shoulders. She wore makeup with restraint, plum lipstick and black eyeliner. Slim and tall, Birdie had been fairly active and fit. But after Randy’s death she had taken a fall and now used a cane and found it difficult to walk without one. It was one reason Seraphina would not try coming up with an excuse to avoid flying to Portland with Birdie. Birdie needed assistance traveling now, and she and Randy had been there when Seraphina had first started her career. In fact, if not for Birdie and Randy, she would not have landed the role in Moon Runners.
Seraphina could tell Birdie was not happy that she had taken Phoebe back, but since she was no longer paying the woman’s wage, she didn’t think it was any of her business. Fortunately Phoebe seemed to be going out of her way to work her way back into the older woman’s good graces. Normally it wouldn’t matter, but they would be spending the next week together.
The front door finally swung open and she found herself facing not one—but three people. The man she recognized immediately, Walt Marlow, the author of Moon Runners. He was as handsome as the picture on his book jacket. Next to him were two attractive thirtysomething women, both much shorter than herself, with the redhead being the shortest.
Forty minutes later Seraphina sat in the library with Walt and Danielle Marlow. Shortly after arriving, they had been introduced to their hosts, along with a neighbor and the housekeeper, Joanne Johnson. They were shown to their rooms, where Seraphina had eventually left Phoebe to unpack for her.
Birdie had been given the downstairs bedroom so she wouldn’t have to maneuver the stairs. The Marlows’ neighbor had said her goodbyes and left with her golden retriever, and now Seraphina enjoyed a cup of green tea with her hosts.
“You have a beautiful home,” Seraphina said. “I love that it’s been in your family for years. I always envy those who have such a strong sense of family history.”
Phoebe walked into the library. “Everything is unpacked.”
“Help yourself to some tea and cookies,” Danielle told Phoebe, pointing to the tea set and plate of cookies on the table.
“When do we get that tour of the house?” Phoebe asked brightly as she picked up a cookie.
“When Birdie is finished getting settled in her room,” Seraphina told her.
“I did offer to help her.” Phoebe poured herself a cup of tea. “But she insisted on doing everything herself.”
“You know how Birdie prizes her privacy,” Seraphina reminded her.
CHRIS DIDN’T BOTHER KNOCKING. Marlow House always felt like a second home to him. He entered through the kitchen door and found Joanne standing at the counter, chopping up vegetables.
“Hi, Chris,” Joanne greeted him, looking up from the cutting board.
“Hi, Joanne. I saw a strange car out front. Some of the people get here?” He lifted the lid from the cake pan on the kitchen table and snatched the remaining cinnamon roll.
“I’m telling Walt you took the last one,” she teased.
“How about I give you half?” he asked.
“Deal.”
With a laugh Chris tore the cinnamon roll in half and handed one side to Joanne.
“So, who’s here?” Chris asked.
“The singer. She’s in the library now with Walt and Danielle.”