by Lynne, Loni
Aunt Vickie had been remote and quiet. Assessing the area with her powerful senses she backed away silently from the group. “I don’t like this. We need to get out of here. I fear there will be repercussions as soon as Henry builds up his strength again. Grab your purses, and let’s head out.”
It took them only moments to gather items they would need to leave safely. The house vibrated with energy. Static build up sparked the air, sending prickles of awareness throughout the atmosphere. Cold, icy fingers grabbed at them. April shuddered as the essence of her experience pummeled her nerves. James held her close while they waited in the foyer for the other three women. He looked around the room, eyeing every shadow with suspicion as if ready to do battle if Henry burst forth. She was afraid there would be very little Aunt Vickie and Grandma Dottie would be able to do to calm Henry the next time.
***
April had the truth now. James was not guilty of having an affair. But she didn’t have any tangible proof. The evidence would be in the journal, if the journal still resided in the antique desk. And the chatelaine would open the desk. She needed to get to Beth and see if she still had it. April shivered again and took a sip of her latte, listening to James and her family discuss mundane things, probably trying to keep their thoughts off of the incident while her head filled with the known and unknown.
The chatelaine was the only thing that had survived the destruction and death when the fire had broken out. The thought saddened her to know nothing of Catherine’s remains would ever be found to lay her soul to rest. Surely the fire and time had destroyed all evidence.
The chatelaine literally held the key to solving James’s mystery. How would she explain to Beth Freelane why she needed the rare, expensive item? Would Beth find her a total freak if she told her about her penchant for psychometry? Or was the woman more open to the idea and abilities of the metaphysical sciences? Then what? Tell her a ghost needs it to unlock her desk?
Yeah, she’d really think you were mental then, April.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, making her jump. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her as if perhaps she might have a possession going on. Lately, she wouldn’t doubt anything happening to her. A collective sigh of relief roamed the table as she produced her small clam-shell phone. But the number on the screen really caused her heart to palpitate. It was Kenneth Miles.
“Excuse me,” April stood up to leave. “I think I’ll take this call outside.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched her mother keep James at bay when he tried to follow her. It was probably for the best. She didn’t want him to hear her failure and firing from her employer.
“Hello, Mr. Miles, what can I do for you?” She tried to sound pleasant as she meandered out of the café to the street side tables.
“I wanted to call and personally congratulate you on your evidence so far. I was excited to see the photo of the document you found. It sounds like you are on the right track.”
April removed her phone from her ear and looked at it. Was this the same man? It was nice to hear a bit of praise from him and even the tenor of excitement about her findings was a nice change of pace. This was the first time he didn’t sound like a gruff old man.
“I’m close, sir. I’ve found the document showing the deed to the land James purchased right before his death on the extension of the mill. But I haven’t found the original deed. I’m still searching. I think we’re on the right track. I may have information James had given over the property to his foreman. I think we may find the actual document in files held by a prominent lawyer at the time, a Peter Hyman.”
“His foreman, Daniel Smith? James Addison spoke of him in his letters found along with his sister’s journals from the time he was living in the colonies. I do have my people looking into the documents you said James might have sent over here to his attorneys in London. I’ll let you know if they find anything.
“This is dandy! I was told you are the best. Putting my faith in you I haven’t been disappointed. You’ve given me more than anyone else has been able to. When you do find the original document, please send me a photocopy, immediately.”
“I understand your urgency in settling on the land…”
“This has gone further than just an interest in the land. Do you know the excitement of finding out about your past? Well of course you do, you’re a historian. Anyway, I’ve taken a personal interest in this case and the history behind my great-great ‘whatever’ uncle. I’ve found rather interesting information on him here in England from his sister, Elsbeth, through her journals and letters from Great-Uncle James. The man sounds like a good fellow.”
He is a ‘good fellow.’ She wished she could somehow share her news with Kenneth, to actually have them meet. April watched through the large plate glass window as James laughed and conversed with her family over tea and coffee.
“…Doctor?”
“I’m sorry. You were saying, Mr. Miles?”
“I was just thanking you for coming along so quickly in your endeavors. I’m quite impressed. Dr. Moreland was correct in suggesting you for this insurmountable task. I look forward to meeting with you soon, hopefully over a celebratory dinner?”
“Yes, of course. I would like that,” she replied softly. Would she be able to introduce the two distant relatives when he arrived? What would Kenneth Miles think when she brought along his great-great-‘whatever’ uncle with her as a guest? She laughed at the bizarre situation.
“Dr. Branford, is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking about how I would be dining with the reclusive Kenneth Miles, and it has nothing to do with financial gain or politics,” she lied, scrambling to figure out what was so funny.
“Yes. I suppose many would find it humorous. Please, no media or paparazzi. Keep it simple. I will see you within the week. There are some issues I’m still dealing with in London, but I plan on being in Maryland in time for the final day of the festivities. I think it’s only appropriate I should be there to honor him in some fashion.”
“He would appreciate the effort, I’m sure.” She couldn’t wait to relay the information to James. What would he do with his ‘nephew’ when they met?
“Until then, Dr. Branford. Again, keep me constantly informed of any new developments.”
The subtle click of disconnect wasn’t so subtle to April’s ears. It signified the lack of time she had left to work with. Things were moving fast in reality. She had less than a week to find one piece of paper lost for two hundred thirty-eight years.
***
James didn’t have to be a mind reader to discern what weighed heavily on April’s shoulders. The phone call was inevitable. She’d feared it since their meeting. He felt at fault for her lack of progress. Spending too much time on his mystery and not focusing on her original goal jeopardized her career. But when she relayed the actual oddity of the phone call he found himself grinning.
Not at Kenneth Miles in general but at the fact Elsbeth had kept her older brother’s memory alive through her journals and letters from him. She’d been a woman-child when he’d left home, barely in corsets and with a will to match her fiery temper at times. At other times she’d been as sweet and docile as Catherine Samuel. But he never stopped loving his sweet sister. And it was good to know she had thought about him often.
“It’ll be all right, April. I promise.” James squeezed her hand gently, trying to reassure her.
“I’m fine,” she sighed, tucking her hands deeper into her woolen coat. “I’ll see if Beth has anything new for me to snoop out while you’re giving tours. I might get lucky.”
“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet this Kenneth Miles. He’s the financial king of England and to know he’s a relative of yours, it should be interesting to see the two of you together.” Aunt Vickie raised her brow. “Perhaps he’d be interested in a woman with some eclectic tastes?”
“Your niece is already spoken for. I will not share her. N
ot even with a distant relative. I’ll be damned first!”
“James,” Vickie patted his hand. “I wasn’t referring to my niece. I was referring to me. I’m widowed, not dead. A man of his tastes, if he’s anything like you but older, I can handle.”
Blowing steam off of his fresh cup of tea, James snorted with disdain. “I’m very protective of my family and I will have to make sure the cad is worthy of your hand. Kenneth Miles claims to be a descendant of mine but I will still be the judge of the man’s character. I will not have some jackal take advantage of your better nature.” All four women stopped and stared at him curiously. And smiled, congratulating April on picking such a fine man to have brought to life and how he would fit in their family.
Had he just accepted this odd crew of women as his family? Aye, they were family to him, even before he spoke of bands and vows, and he would make sure no one dared to harm them, even a distant relative.
He couldn’t let the tender moment last. It was not in his nature. “Yes well, we’ll see. Besides, if he’s anything like me, I would definitely be worried.”
***
“You wanted to see me, Dr. Branford?”
Dr. Beth Freelane walked down the steps and approached April at the bottom of the landing of the Georgian townhouse. The historical house contained both the public domain, consisting of an information desk and a small selection of local history books, and the private residence of the curator for Kings Mill Historical Society. The place was still in disarray. Various boxes, totes, and crates of materials lined the narrow hallways and rooms, waiting to be moved into the new, modern facility. April wondered if any of these boxes might contain the document she was looking for.
After a few days of coming up with nothing more in the files at the house, it was time for drastic measures. She was running out of time. But how to approach Dr. Freelane and ask her for use of the chatelaine. The woman wouldn’t understand. The professional appearance and demeanor Beth possessed was of a no nonsense business woman. She was what April aspired to be, practical and professional. How could she explain what she needed to do? If Dr. Freelane kicked her out for being a psycho would James’s job be at stake?
She needed the chatelaine though. It was the only way to solve the mystery. Maybe then she could focus all her time on finding the damn deed to his property. Hopefully, Henry signed at least that one. But either way, she would have the evidence. Kenneth Miles could decide what he would do from there. She couldn’t change history, only see it.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Freelane.” April greeted her with a wan smile. Reaching into her bag, she retrieved the book Dr. Freelane wrote about the excavation. Turning to the tagged page with the picture of the chatelaine she showed it to Beth. “You mentioned finding this article in the ruins on your original dig. I was wondering if you might still have it.”
“Well, of course. Fully intact. Antique chatelaines are not easy to come by. I’ve had various offers over the years for the piece, but I’ve not been able to part with it.” Beth tilted her head questioningly. “Would you care to see it? I have it upstairs in a private collection.”
“I would love to!”
Following her upstairs, April’s heart beat faster. This was it. She was going to hopefully view Catherine’s chatelaine, but what else would she be able to do? She couldn’t touch it. The temptation was great but she wouldn’t let herself for the sake of not being sure what could happen, especially now. Touching artifacts and sensing the past was one thing, phasing in and out of time, would take some explaining.
How could she convince Beth to part with it? She didn’t need it for long, just until she could match it up with the desk and see if Catherine’s journal was still inside after all these years.
“Have a seat.” Beth motioned to the chair in front of her desk, piled with unfiled paperwork. “Sorry for the mess, but until I can get into our new location I’m afraid my filing system has deteriorated.”
She sat down at the desk and unlocked a large filing drawer next to her. Inside the drawer was a sturdy filing safe. April’s palms tingled watching Beth unlock the safe. Beth retrieved a royal blue velvet bag. Opening the drawstring she carefully shook the contents onto her desk blotter. A small silver flur de lis held two small keys, one larger than the other, both daintily scrolled in detail. Beth smiled, her stare intense. “Go ahead, touch it.”
The glow of knowledge in Beth’s eyes worried her. This was an artifact. It shouldn’t be touched without proper precautions. Did she know? How could she? “No. I can’t. It’s beautiful though.” April’s hand twitched as if it willed her to reach out, just once.
“Yes, you can, April,” Dr. Freelane commanded with a reassuring smile. But her voice trembled slightly. The woman’s eagerness for April to touch it electrified the room. “I’ve waited nearly three decades for someone to reveal who this chatelaine belonged to and why I’m so enamored with it that I’m unable to sell it for an offered price of $50,000.”
April’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. This woman knew of her gift. Fear and trepidation fought to escape. Her body quivered, wondering what Dr. Freelane would do or think. Was this a game? Some joke gone bad?
Dr. Freelane looked April directly in the eye. “Dr. Moreland told me you have the gift of psychometry and you could tell me what I needed to know. Touch it, please.”
***
Did she hear right? April sat stunned, staring at Beth across her desk. She knew about her gift? Well, the woman hadn’t discredited her or ridiculed her…yet.
“Bob Moreland told me he knew you had the sight when you were able to note information about the Jamestown dig. You two share a common interest. He has a bit of the ability, though not as strong from what he told me,” Beth explained, eyeing her with warm appreciation. “It’s not something people see every day. I understand it might not be a comfortable topic for you. Most people wouldn’t comprehend, or they would judge or try to exploit your gift if it was revealed. I find psychometry fascinating!”
Beth sighed. “Bob tried to get some information from the chatelaine years ago, but he wasn’t able to distinguish anything of significance. All he sensed was residual pain.”
Well, of course! Residual pain was the prominent ordeal. The fire and trauma of what Catherine went through was nothing but pain.
“You want me to actually touch it?” Could she without repercussions? “Really, I don’t know if I should. Lately I think there is more to my gift than just ‘touching’ something to obtain knowledge.”
Beth leaned forward, waiting for her to continue. “Such as?”
April hesitated. It was now or never. She would take what came. “I phase into the past,” she whispered, bowing her head, waiting for the laughter or the gasp of shock. Perhaps it would be an immediate phone call to the psych ward at the local hospital.
Beth nodded in full agreement and understanding. “Live energy and residual energy converging. I’ve done some research on it, ever since my excavation at the mill site. Have you been out there?”
It was April’s turn to be shocked. She wasn’t being questioned or committed? She studied Beth warily. Did she have the gift? “I’ve been out to the site. I’ve been able to sense a piece of the past.” She didn’t want to reveal too much of the details. It was enough for someone of Beth’s caliber to accept so much of her gift.
Beth steepled her fingers under her chin. “I sensed this overwhelming feeling of—I don’t even know what it was. It was almost as if I were a part of the surroundings. I’ve never felt it anywhere else. Well, that’s not true. There was a moment I had a connection when I toured one of the historical plantations down in St. Mary’s county. But the mill site was definitely stronger.”
She leaned across the desk. “What about you? What’ve you seen? Did you phase when you were out at the ruins?”
How much should she reveal? This was all so new and unbelievable. “I saw the fire.” April would wait to say more. She wasn’t ready to reveal more than th
e bare minimum.
“Would you be willing to touch the chatelaine and tell me its secrets?”
The curator was asking her for a favor? Should she, could she, ask for one in return? “I already know who it belongs to. The chatelaine belonged to Catherine Samuel.”
Jumping up from her seat, Beth’s eyes widened. “This is fantastic!” She sat back down, her brows knotted. “But how did the chatelaine end up at the mill site? Unless she was having an affair with James Addison and it ended up there!”
“No. She was having an affair with Daniel Smith, his foreman.” April bit her lip at revealing too much. Damn! She felt the need to protect James’s name but didn’t want to blurt out the truth. Besides, she still didn’t have the proof. Now she would have to explain seeing ghosts.
Beth came around the desk. Her eyes were critical and assessing, her stance slightly rigid. “How do you know? Why did you want to see the chatelaine?”
“I need to see if one of the keys fits in the lock of a desk at my aunt’s house. I believe it belonged to Catherine Samuel. I think there is something in the desk we might be able to use to bring some interesting history to light.”
Beth didn’t ask any more. Her eyes traveled to her chatelaine. “Do I have your word nothing will happen to it in your care?”
“I promise,” April breathed with relief. Beth was going to take a chance on her! “You can even come with me,” she offered.
“No. I can’t.” Beth shook her head. “There is something about your Aunt’s house I can’t deal with. It took all my will power to bring over the boxes the other day and go up to the porch to ring the doorbell. I trust you.” Beth placed the chatelaine back into its velvet bag and handed it to her. “Go now. I want to know if it works.”
Chapter Twenty-One
April worried about going back to the house. Was it safe after this morning’s incident with Henry? She knew if James saw her head back he would forbid her to go, but she needed to see if the chatelaine would work.