The Haunted Stroll

by J A Whiting

  “Never.” Leonard shook his head with a grin on his face. “Although, some people might claim we’re already jerks.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Lin poured a little more maple syrup onto her pancakes. “Anton is having an art historian come to look at the portrait to see if there is anything special about it that warrants such a high price.”

  Leonard agreed that Anton’s idea was a good one. “Maybe there’s something about the painting that’s being overlooked. Maybe a famous artist is really the one who painted the captain’s portrait and not the person people think it is.”

  Lin cocked her head to the side. “Huh. I wonder.”

  The conversation moved to their plans for the rest of the work day, and then while Leonard was finishing a piece of warm apple pie, Lin gingerly brought up the event at the Shipwreck and Lifesaving Museum.

  “We haven’t talked about what happened that night,” she said.

  Leonard stopped chewing for a few moments and, keeping his eyes on his dessert, he muttered, “There’s nothing to talk about. Unfortunately, I got emotional. It passed.”

  “It’s okay for you to enjoy someone’s company,” Lin pointed out. “It’s okay for you to have some interest in someone.”

  Leonard stiffened. “I’m not interested in anyone, Coffin.”

  “That’s because you quash it. You never let yourself get to know anyone.”

  “I let myself get to know you,” Leonard said using a defensive tone.

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean….”

  Leonard cut her off. “I know what you mean. I’m not interested.”

  “Why not? It’s been years since Marguerite died. It would be nice to have a partner in your life. The woman you met at the museum was nice.”

  “Did you talk to her?” Leonard’s face was emotionless.

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know she was nice?”

  “Jeff knows who she is. He said she’s a good person, a hard worker, generous, she volunteers for all sorts of things.”

  “That’s great.” Leonard lifted his coffee cup and looked out the window.

  “You enjoyed her company,” Lin reminded him. “You said so yourself.”

  “It was a momentary thing.”

  “It could be more than a momentary thing, if you’d let it.”

  Leonard turned to face the young woman sitting across from him and he stared into her eyes with a blank expression. “Not interested.”

  Lin let out a sigh. “Has Marguerite been coming and going?”

  “You just can’t let it go, can you?” A little bit of anger tinged the man’s voice.

  Lin leaned forward. “I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

  “I was happy until you started yapping at me about this.”

  “Marguerite wants you to be happy, too,” Lin said in a gentle tone. “She doesn’t want you to be alone. We both know she’s probably getting ready to cross over.”

  A muscle in Leonard’s jaw twitched, and then he stood up abruptly. “I’m going to the restroom. Then we need to get a move on or we’ll be late to the next client.”

  Lin watched him storm across the room and her heart sank wishing she’d kept quiet and hadn’t brought up the touchy subject.

  The last stop of the day was at the Snows’ to drop off two tall Christmas trees. Robert’s grandson, Chase, was home from school and the look of delight on the child’s face when he saw the trees warmed Lin from head to toe. Lin, Leonard, Robert, and Chase carried the trees into the living and dining rooms of the mansion, and the landscapers set them into their stands.

  “Are you going to decorate them tonight?” Lin asked Chase.

  The boy’s brown eyes glittered with excitement as he looked the beautiful evergreens up and down. “As soon as we finish dinner. Dad told me I can go on the ladder this year to put the big star on the top.”

  “You’re very lucky,” Lin said to him.

  “I’m going to go help Nana get the boxes of decorations.”

  Lin watched the blond-headed boy skip out of the room.

  As Leonard knelt beside the living room tree to tighten the bolts that would hold it in place, Robert praised the selection of the Douglas Firs. “You’ve outdone yourselves. I thought the trees you chose for us last year couldn’t be beat, but these are magnificent.”

  Lin thanked the man and smiled, and then she noticed the painting of Captain Baker hanging on the far wall.

  Robert followed Lin’s gaze. “We put the captain in here. The room is used all the time. We wanted the painting close by.” The man moved closer to Lin and kept his voice down. “Captain Baker is becoming quite agitated. He threw a cut-glass vase across the room yesterday and it smashed into pieces. Lila was upset by the outburst.”

  “Do you think the captain is out-of-sorts because he’s afraid you’re going to sell his painting?” Lin asked.

  “I wonder,” Robert blinked.

  “You could reassure him the painting will stay here in the house and that you would never consider selling it,” Lin suggested. “See if the reassurance makes him feel better.”

  “We’ve all done that already. Me, Lila, our son, his wife. It hasn’t helped.” Robert shook his head. “We don’t know what to do to calm the ghost.”

  “Did the man who made the offer for the painting leave his name?” Lin questioned.

  “He did not. I asked him for it, but he said there was no need for me to know his name. I protested and told him our interaction was one-sided because he knew my name. I also asked for a phone number where I might reach him, in case we change our minds. He told me there was no need for me to call him, he would get in touch again on his own.” Robert made a face. “It’s all so cloak and dagger. Why the mysterious behavior? He even mentioned your name.”

  “Mine?” Lin’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “He said something like Ms. Coffin would be difficult to negotiate with and he hoped you would not be present the next time he visited. Did you tell him your name when he was first in the gallery?” Robert asked.

  “No. No, I did not.” A rush of cold raced over Lin’s skin as if an icy finger traced a line down the middle of her back.

  16

  Lin and Viv stood around the Snows’ kitchen island sipping tea while they all waited for Anton and the art historian to show up to inspect the painting of Captain Baker. Lin was on edge and wasn’t sure why the visit of the two historians had her feeling nervous.

  “I know this will be a valuable meeting,” Robert said, “but I wonder if we’ll find out anything important about the painting that will help us understand why the offer for the piece of art is so out of whack from it’s actually worth.”

  The doorbell rang and as Lila went to answer the door, she said, “We’re about to find out.”

  Lin, Viv, and Robert moved into the living room where they greeted Anton and were introduced to Dr. Christine Allen, a curator at a medium-sized, well-known and respected museum on the outskirts of Boston.

  In her early forties, Dr. Allen was short and trim with shoulder-length, dark brown hair and big blue eyes. Dressed in navy slacks and a navy blazer and wearing a crisp white shirt, the curator met the group with a wide, friendly smile and a firm handshake.

  “It’s lovely to meet all of you. I haven’t been to Nantucket for a couple of years so I’m happy to be back.”

  Everyone sat on the comfortable sofas and talked a little about themselves and what preceded the idea of inviting the woman to see the painting.

  “It’s hanging there on the opposite wall.” Robert gestured and the curator rose and went to have a first look.

  “Very nice.” Dr. Allen’s eyes ran over the piece of art. “A fine example of the artist’s work.” Returning to sit, she asked, “Can you tell me about its history?”

  Robert began the story, “This house was built in 1805 for Captain Baker and his wife. About a year later, we’re told the captain sat for the artist, Lincoln Patenaude,
for the portrait. The family sold this home and moved to another house about a half-mile from here.”

  Lila took up the tale. “The captain was unhappy in the new place and tried to persuade the new owner to sell this house back to him. One afternoon, the captain and his young son were visiting Mr. Witters, the new owner, here in the house when a man broke in and murdered all three of them.”

  “Good grief,” Dr. Allen’s face took on a horrified look.

  “After the loss of her husband and son, the captain’s wife bought this house and moved back in with her young children. She lived here until she died,” Lila said. “She created a stipulation that the captain’s portrait was to remain in the house and was to pass to any new owners for safekeeping. The painting is to stay in the house as long as the house stands.”

  The curator wore a pensive expression. “What a sad story … and what an interesting twist. Mrs. Baker wanted her husband to be able to stay in the house he loved even if it was only through his portrait hanging on the wall. How very touching.”

  “As Anton has told you, we’ve had an offer for the painting,” Robert said. “A rather excessive offer.”

  “The man who made the offer is quite mysterious,” Lila said. “He won’t tell us his name or who he is representing.”

  “The man had an aggressive manner when I spoke with him,” Lin reported. “He was almost rude and a little intimidating.”

  Dr. Allen asked for a description of the man and Robert and Lin told her about his physical characteristics and how he conducted himself when he visited the gallery.

  “He doesn’t sound familiar to me,” the curator told them, “but I will ask around to my colleagues to see if one of them might recognize his description.”

  Robert nodded. “The painting was hanging in the gallery downstairs, but when it received the unwanted attention from being mentioned in a story in the Nantucket magazine, Lila and I decided it might be best to return it here to the main house.”

  “Because of the odd circumstances of the high offers to purchase it, I think that was a smart idea,” Dr. Allen said.

  Anton told the woman the estimated value of the painting. “The offer was eight to ten times the expected amount. Something is going on here that makes no sense in light of the painting’s value.”

  “Unless the buyer saw the article that highlighted the painting, decided he must have it, and has so much money that his offer is a pittance to him. It’s happened plenty of times with art collectors,” Dr. Allen said. “Some become obsessed with a piece of art and bid outlandishly to obtain it. This could be the case with your painting of Captain Baker. It may have caught a collector’s eye and that person will do anything to get his hands on it.” The curator smiled and shook her head. “Some of these collectors are so determined to own a piece of art that when they meet with resistance, they keep raising their offers. This is rare, however. Most collectors are knowledgeable and rational, and are not willing to overpay.” Dr. Allen glanced at the painting. “Will you consider selling the piece should the offer reach a certain amount?”

  Before Robert and Lila could reply, the sound of something tipping over and crashing to the floor in the kitchen rang through the air and caused the people in the living room to jump. Lila hurried into the kitchen and when she returned, she said, “How very odd. The vase on the table fell off and shattered on the floor. Our son just came home. He’s going to clean it up for us.” Suddenly, understanding showed on the woman’s face and she and Robert shared a knowing look.

  Lin picked up on their expressions and realized Captain Baker’s ghost must have caused the accident in the kitchen. The vase took a tumble at the same moment Dr. Allen asked the Snows if they would sell the painting should the offered price rise to a certain amount. The captain indicated his negative opinion of selling his portrait by smashing the vase.

  “Selling the painting is out of the question,” Robert said. “It isn’t for sale, no matter the price.”

  Dr. Allen nodded. “Can we remove the painting from the wall so I can better examine it? Is there somewhere we can lay it down on a flat surface?”

  Robert and Anton went to the portrait and gently removed it from the wall, and then they carried it into the dining room where Lila covered the long table with a linen cloth.

  “Someone doesn’t like the thought of being sold off,” Viv whispered to her cousin as they headed to the dining room. “I shudder to think what would happen if that painting ever ends up in another house.”

  “I think there would be a lot of broken objects,” Lin said softly. “Or worse.”

  Dr. Allen pulled on surgical-type gloves and took a magnifying glass from her bag, and for about twenty minutes, she used it to examine the painting and the frame. After inspecting the front and back of the artwork, the curator stood and removed her gloves. “Is this the original frame?”

  “It was the frame that was on the painting when we bought the house,” Robert said. “We don’t know if it is original or if it is a replacement frame.”

  “Did you learn anything by examining the painting?” Lin asked, shivers of nervousness still pulsing through her body.

  Dr. Allen said, “I plan to write up the results of my inspection … but first, I feel it necessary to bring the painting to the museum for further analysis. I don’t want to remove the painting from the frame unless it is in the museum because I’d like the assistance of our conservator to avoid damaging it.”

  “Well.” Robert looked to Lila for her opinion.

  “I don’t know.” Lila crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know if we should send the painting to Boston. Captain Baker’s wife had the stipulation put in place that it must remain in the house.”

  “But doesn’t the stipulation refer only to the painting remaining in the house whenever the home is sold?” the curator asked. “Is there something that states the painting can never leave the premises?”

  Lila pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she considered the question. “I’m not sure.” She looked to Robert. “We could consult with our attorney to be sure we aren’t violating Mrs. Baker’s intentions.”

  Robert shifted on his feet. “I don’t think we’d be doing anything wrong if we let the painting go to the museum for a couple of weeks. Would that be enough time to do what you want to do?”

  “A week would be all we would need,” Dr. Allen said.

  “I think we can agree to let you take it then,” Robert said.

  A sensation of cold washed over Lin and nearly froze her to the floor. She sucked in a breath so deep that Anton stared at her. Lin shook her head.

  “What do you plan to do with the painting?” Anton asked the curator.

  Dr. Allen said, “I want to remove it from the frame and maybe have some imaging done on the painting. Every so often, an older, more important work, is discovered painted on the very same canvas under the present painting.”

  “Really?” Lila’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

  “There’s only a very tiny chance of such a thing, but considering the buyer’s determination and the over-priced offer, I believe it is worth looking into,” Dr. Allen said.

  Lin was afraid that if the painting left the Snows’ possession and was moved to the museum in Boston, she would lose her connection with Captain Baker’s ghost, and would be unable to do what he needed her to do.

  “Can the work be done here on the island?” Lin asked. “Could you do the inspection at the Athenaeum or at the historical museum?”

  Dr. Allen shook her head. “I need the conservator to help with the examination. She wouldn’t be able to come out here to the island.”

  Lin’s heart sank when Robert said, “If it’s only for a week, then I think we can allow the painting to go to Boston.”

  One of the large windows in the dining room began to rattle as if an earthquake had started, and, startled, everyone in the room turned to look at it.

  The shaking was so violent that the Snows’ so
n, Roy, and their grandson, Chase, rushed into the room from the kitchen to see what was happening.

  As soon as Roy and Chase crossed the threshold into the dining room, the glass in the window shattered with a mighty boom into a thousand pieces and the shards fell outward and into the yard.

  As Lila screamed and some of the others gasped, Viv grabbed her cousin’s arm and pulled her close.

  “Holy cow,” Viv said, her voice trembling with shock from what had just occurred. Leaning close to Lin’s ear, she whispered, “Someone in this house sure doesn’t want that painting to leave the property.”

  “That’s for sure,” Lin said. “And I happen to agree with him.”

  17

  “I’m so glad Lila and Robert decided not to send the painting to Boston.” Viv handed one end of the evergreen garland to Lin and they wound it around one of the columns in the bookstore. “I’ve never seen anything like that window blowing out. Sheesh. Captain Baker sure got his point across.”

  “Didn’t he?” Lin fastened the garland to the bottom of the post and Viv tied a big red ribbon to it. “Maybe the painting can go to the city for examination after whatever the captain wants us to accomplish is taken care of.”

  Viv shook her head. “Whatever that is.”

  The cousins carried the decorations to the next column to repeat the process of wrapping garland around it.

  “I can’t believe I waited so long to put up the holiday decorations.” Viv wiped a bit pf perspiration from her forehead.

  “We’ve already done all the trees and the wreaths,” Lin said. “The store looks really pretty … festive and inviting. We’ll be done in another half hour.”

  Watching the women arrange the holiday decorations, Nicky rested in the big soft chair with Queenie next to him.

  Viv patted the animals as she and Lin passed by. “Must be nice to be a dog or a cat. Just sit around and supervise everything.”

  “Isn’t that right, Nick?” Lin asked.

  The dog put his head back and released a soft woof.