Lu grinned. “Family pressures. Women—even those of means—didn’t have many options then. Regardless, it appears that she carried on a longstanding relationship of some kind with this Elizabeth, even after that. She had two children, both of whom survived into adulthood and had children of their own. A son and a daughter. He was named Isaac and she was named Elizabeth.”
“Why did she die?” Abby followed Lu out of the reading room, wondering if Katrina had named her daughter after the woman she apparently loved.
“An unspecified illness. Not uncommon then.”
Abby waited for her at the front counter. “What happened to Katrina’s children?” she asked when Lu reappeared.
“Isaac, like many Van Brunts and Van Tassels, became a merchant. He ended up in Boston while Elizabeth married a magistrate in New York. Both had several children who survived into adulthood, a few of whom moved back to Sleepy Hollow and continued farming and running businesses, keeping up traditions with the family holdings.” Lu put her jacket on and picked up her backpack. “We have some of those papers here, but many are in Boston, with Isaac’s collections. Elizabeth’s are in New York City, with the collections of her husband. I’ll get more information on those for you.” She moved to the door and armed the security system then flipped the sign on the door to “Closed.”
Abby followed her outside and waited for her to finish locking up. “It’s a fascinating story, but it doesn’t tell me what happened to Ichabod.”
“Ah,” Lu said. “That, my dear, is a matter of conjecture and legend. He disappeared from the historical record as well as from Sleepy Hollow. But I’ve always wondered, did he really disappear?”
“What do you mean?” Abby walked with Lu toward downtown.
“He may have been the victim of an unfortunate accident and Brom Bones may have been the one to create the circumstances in which that happened. However, this was an even smaller community then. Surely Katrina would’ve been aware of what Brom was about that night. Why would she marry the man who caused an accident to the man she may have been in love with?”
Abby pondered that. “The legends suggest Brom did cause it but that he kept it secret.”
“And secrets can be kept. But Katrina seemed too savvy for that. Brom, to her, was a not-too-bright oaf, so the idea that he could have orchestrated an accident and then kept it secret from her—well, it doesn’t ring true.”
They walked in silence for a few moments until Abby spoke again. “Katrina wrote about the horseman a few times, so she knew the stories about him. And people might believe that a ghost scared Ichabod to death.”
“True,” Lu said. “Remember, the legends say nothing about a body. So if Ichabod died that night, his body was never found.”
“And the legend served that purpose. No body, no explanation, so why not pin a disappearance on a ghost who already had a prominent position in the folklore of the area?”
Lu stopped. “I have to turn here. And you should really talk to Katie. She’s fascinated by the story, too, and has been through the collection a few times. She has a couple of interesting theories. I’ll let her tell you. Oh, and don’t forget. We close at three tomorrow to get ready for Halloween. Not often that it falls on a Saturday.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Lu waved and walked away from Main Street into what was a more residential part of town, Abby knew, because she’d driven around a little the day she arrived. A mixture of New England-style saltbox houses, later bungalow-style, and even a smattering of Queen Annes. Abby pictured Lu in a bungalow.
She continued downtown, on her way to the bed and breakfast when she paused and dug her phone out of her bag. She started to text Katie then stopped. Maybe Katie was busy. It was Friday evening, after all, and already almost nightfall. Maybe she had a girlfriend. That didn’t sit well with Abby, but it was something to consider. Though it seemed Katie had been flirting with her since they met… She resumed the text, sent it, and started walking again.
Buildings and businesses were festooned with banners about the festival and the horseman’s ride, and practically every business window had Halloween decorations and notices about the ride, too. Abby caught a vibe of anticipation as she walked and overheard bits of conversations about the upcoming festival, and at least one person wondered aloud who was riding as the horseman this year. Damn, she’d meant to ask Lu about how the horseman was chosen.
Her phone rang and she checked the ID, which made her smile. She answered, still walking. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” Katie said. “So Lu’s been telling stories about me again.”
“Maybe a little. She said you have some theories about Ichabod’s disappearance that you clearly haven’t told me yet.” Abby tried to convince herself that this was all about research, that she just wanted to talk to Katie again because of their shared interest in history. She tried. And failed, as Katie laughed, low in her ear.
“Don’t want to blow all my conversation cred with you at once,” she said. “I’m actually at the pub right now, if you want to swing by.”
Abby slowed down. The pub was right across the street. “Are you sure? I mean, if you’re hanging out with your friends or something, I’ll just talk to you tomorrow.” Because if she was there with a girlfriend, Abby really didn’t want to see that and she really didn’t want to meet her. She’d rather just keep her crush to herself and not think about Katie with another woman.
“I actually just stopped by a few minutes ago to chat up the bartender,” Katie said. “We went to high school together. Seriously. Come on by.”
“Okay. It’ll only be a minute. I’m pretty close.”
“Excellent. See you in a bit. Bye.” Katie hung up and Abby put her phone back in her bag, anticipation zinging up and down her nerves. As crushes went, this one was pretty bad. Still, she liked the way it felt. Most of the time, her crushes didn’t go anywhere, but they were fun while they lasted. She crossed the street and went into the pub.
Katie waved her over from the barstool where she sat. “Hi,” she greeted Abby. “This is Gary, the most awesome bartender in this part of New York. Maybe in the entire state. Gary, this is Abby. A scholar extraordinaire who just might solve the mystery of Sleepy Hollow.”
Abby laughed. “I don’t know about that, but it’s fun to think about. Nice to meet you.”
He grinned and the movement lifted his mustache. “Good to meet you. What can I get you?”
Abby hung her bag on one of the hooks under the bar. Katie was drinking a beer, a beverage Abby didn’t like much. “Do you have a cider on tap?”
“Sure do. Coming up.” He moved off to take care of the order.
“Put it on my tab,” Katie said and Gary nodded.
“Are you sure?” Abby situated herself on the stool next to Katie.
“Yep. So how far did you get today?”
“The end of box seven.”
Katie took a sip of her beer. “Good. You’ve met Elizabeth. But here’s my theory about Ichabod.”
Gary placed a pint glass of cider on a coaster in front of Abby and a small bowl of bar snacks between them. Mini pretzel sticks and peanuts, mostly.
Katie picked out a couple of pretzel sticks and ate one. “Okay, my theory,” she said after she’d finished chewing and swallowing, “and we did talk about this a bit, is that Ichabod didn’t die.”
“I’m leaning that way, too.” Abby sipped the cider. Not too tart, not too sweet. She approved.
“But he wasn’t found,” Katie continued. “I’ve wondered why that is. If he was dead, wouldn’t someone eventually find his body? It’s not like there are deep gorges around here that he’d fall into. So if he had an accident and he was lying unconscious, it stands to reason that he would’ve been found like that. I mean, like the movie Sleepy Hollow with Johnny Depp. Those bodies were found right away.”
> “That was a movie. Maybe everybody was too scared to go outside to look for him in real life,” Abby said.
“I think Katrina would’ve gone. And guys wouldn’t have let her go alone.” Katie picked another pretzel stick out of the bowl. “Anyway, his body wasn’t found. So, what if he left Sleepy Hollow on purpose? What if he staged the whole thing so he could disappear?”
“Why?”
“Any number of reasons. If he was having an affair with Katrina, her dad could’ve found out and been pissed about it. Brom could’ve found out and threatened to bail on any intended wedding. Baltus was big into linking the Van Tassels and the Van Brunts.” She popped the pretzel stick into her mouth.
Abby nodded, thinking. “However, we know Ichabod had a secret. Whatever it was, he confided in Katrina. Maybe that secret is the key and maybe Katrina helped him disappear. Maybe it doesn’t have to do with Brom or Baltus.”
“I’ve thought about that, too. It makes for a great story if nothing else.” Katie brushed her hands on her jeans. “Here’s another theory. I think Elizabeth was in on whatever plot it was to make him disappear.”
“But she doesn’t show up until after he was already gone.”
“Right. Katrina was sneaky, though. She didn’t put anything on paper that she didn’t want people finding out. So Elizabeth could’ve easily been part of the plot from the beginning and Katrina just kept her name out of her letters until after Ichabod was gone. That would protect Elizabeth from any fallout.”
Abby took another sip of her cider. “And I guess that would explain why Katrina didn’t seem to care about Ichabod after he was gone. Because he really wasn’t.”
“Exactly,” Katie said, a note of triumph in her voice. “Because she knew where he was and they were still in contact. Elizabeth could’ve been the go-between.”
Abby picked a peanut out of the bowl. “But Katrina seemed to have the hots for Elizabeth, too.”
“And why not?” Katie pointed at the portrait of her that hung over the bar, above the top shelf liquor. “She was hot herself. And she said in her letters that Elizabeth was attractive.”
The dim lighting didn’t do Katrina’s portrait justice, Abby thought. “Well, there’s that.”
“Maybe Ichabod went off to sea or something and left Katrina behind. She wasn’t one to sit around pining away. So she hooked up with Liz and they carried on even after Katrina married Brom.” She grinned. “That could be another great story.” She pointed at Abby with a pretzel stick. “Somebody should do a biography of Katrina.”
Abby smiled. “Maybe somebody should,” she said, using another pretzel stick to point at Katie. “And then there’s the legend.”
“Katrina totally helped create it,” Katie stated, matter-of-fact. “I wonder sometimes if she staged a sighting of the horseman to add to Ichabod’s disappearance.”
Abby stared at her. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“It seems logical, if we go with the idea that Katrina helped Ichabod disappear. She’d want to direct attention away from anybody who might be associated with Ichabod, and what better way to do that than to link his disappearance to a known ghost who happens to like riding around the glen?”
“Did somebody say ‘ghost’?”
Abby looked at Gary, who was refilling his bar condiments container. “We’re just talking about the legends around here,” she replied.
“I’ve seen him,” he said, putting maraschino cherries into one of the container slots. “The horseman.”
Abby glanced over at Katie, who was digging through the bowl of snacks. She looked back at Gary. “What did he look like?” she asked him.
“Big black horse. The horseman was decked out in dark colors and he had a sword.”
The hair on the back of Abby’s neck stood up. “What happened?”
“A bunch of us in high school were running around the glen one night. We were always going down there to scare each other.”
Abby looked at Katie again, who gave her a sheepish smile.
“I was waiting behind a tree just off the road that goes through the glen,” Gary continued, “because I had the bright idea to jump out from behind it at a couple of my friends.”
“You never told me this story,” Katie said.
“I thought I did. I told a lot of people, but of course, the thing about legends is that you can believe in them whether you see the ghost or not. Most people figured I’d made it up to add to the legend.” He shrugged. “Which is legit, but I know what I saw.”
“So what happened?” Abby gripped her glass of cider with both hands.
“I heard this pounding. You know, like they say. Horse’s hooves. I stayed behind the tree and swear to God, the horseman rode past. Right past my tree, not six feet away. And then the horse jumped, like there was something in the road, and disappeared. Like the night had swallowed it.”
“Dude, seriously?” Katie asked. She held a pretzel stick up like she had intended to eat it but forgot she had it.
“Scared the piss out of me. It was a week before Halloween, so I guess it’s possible that someone was out testing the roads. But why would someone go out there in full costume, anyway, before the event? It’s a pain in the ass to get all decked out like that.”
“Did the horse have red glowing eyes?” Abby asked.
“Not that I remember. Why?”
“Some of the reports of the horseman say the horse has those.” Katie ate the pretzel stick she’d been holding. “Other reports don’t mention that. But all say the horse is big and black and the rider is always dressed in dark clothes and carries a sword.”
“What about the horseman’s head?” Abby asked.
Gary looked at her. “Um, he didn’t have one.”
Katie laughed. “I think she means, was he carrying his head? Or have it on his saddle or something?”
“Oh. No, not that I could tell. But then, I wasn’t really looking for it. I just froze, totally scared.”
Katie shook her head. “Damn, Gary. That’s a hell of a story.”
“I didn’t go back there for a while. When I did, I didn’t see or hear anything after that. So I do wonder sometimes if it was somebody just out joyriding to fuck with people. Power of suggestion and all that. I’m open to being wrong about a ghost, but at the time, I thought it was supernatural.” He moved away to talk with a server at the other end of the bar.
“I learn something new every day.” Katie picked up her beer.
“Speaking of the horseman,” Abby said, “how does he—or she—get chosen to ride for the festival?”
“That’s a whole other legend. Lu says the tradition started in the 1980s, and there’s a secret society that chooses riders.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Seriously. With the blessing of the town council. Some local guys started the tradition. Nobody knows how many people are in this group, but it’s sort of like a Mardi Gras krewe. I heard you pay dues to help keep the costumes up, but you can’t ever talk about it. So nobody outside that group—not even your family—knows you ride.”
“Now that’s a story. First rule of Fight Club—”
“Is you never talk about Fight Club,” Katie finished with a smile.
“Anyway, making a legend to buttress another legend that is woven into the history of this town. Wow. Mind blown.”
Katie laughed and finished her beer. “I would love to stay and talk to you for a bunch more hours, but I’m having dinner with my folks tonight.” She stood and took her jacket off its hook underneath the bar. “You’re welcome to come along if you want. My folks like meeting people I hang out with. One of my brothers will be there. The one who claims he’s starving all the time.”
“That’s a nice offer, but maybe next time. I need to write up some notes.” The friend zone, Abby thought. That’s where Katie had
put her. You only took friends home to meet your folks this early in the game. Disappointment sat in her stomach like a bad meal.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Maybe another time.”
“All right.” Katie put her jacket on. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, absolutely.” She hoped she didn’t sound as bummed as she felt. Well, that’s what crushes were about. Getting crushed. Whatever. She could still enjoy Katie’s company. And looks. And her laugh and smile, too. Abby forced one of those to her lips.
“Great. I am so looking forward to it.” Katie squeezed Abby’s forearm and left, but this time, Abby forced herself not to watch her walk away.
“Would you like another cider?”
Abby looked up at Gary, deciding. “Yes. And could I have a menu?”
“Yep. Here you go.” He handed her one then filled another pint glass for her.
“Katie said you’d been friends since high school,” Abby said as Gary put the glass in front of her and picked up her nearly empty one.
“Yeah, but we’ve known each other since grade school. I had a tough time in high school. She was really supportive.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Oh, yeah. High school’s rough on everybody, but more so if you’re different.”
“High school wasn’t good to me, either,” Abby said.
“I came out.”
She’d picked that vibe up from him. “That must’ve been hard.”
Gary shrugged.
“I waited to do that publicly until after high school,” she said, letting him know that she could empathize with what he had gone through.
“Yeah, I probably should have waited. Katie stuck by me, though she took some shit for being gay, too. Eventually, the worst of them left me alone.” He smiled again. “Katie’s one of those people who can be a total geek and a jock at the same time and she has a huge heart. Huge.”
“So are things better for you now?” Life in a small town could be hard on gay people, she knew too well. But she was extremely glad that Katie was indeed gay. Even though she may have been relegated to Katie’s friend zone.
The Secret of Sleepy Hollow Page 6