Rag Doll in the Attic

by Jan Fields

  “The legend is just foolishness. That road is slick as glass in the rain,” Chief Edwards says. “I hope we can learn from this horrible tragedy so we don’t lose any more of Stony Point’s children. Nobody belongs out there in that kind of weather.”

  The police department refused to release the names of Jenny Matthew’s two companions. Her parents refused to comment. A friend of the family told this reporter that Jenny will be buried in a private ceremony—no obituary will be published. The family asks that donations to charity be made in lieu of flowers.

  With a shaking hand, Annie pressed the button to print out a copy of the story on the screen. She now knew what happened to little Jenny. She’d panicked in the dark storm and died. Annie couldn’t imagine what that must have done to the child’s parents and to her sister.

  She folded the sheet of paper carefully and slipped it into her crocheted bag. Then she rolled the microfiche out of the machine and returned it carefully to its small box. In her heart, Annie had known the girls’ adventure had ended tragically, but seeing the story in stark words on the screen had made everything seem so much more real.

  As she slipped the handful of microfiche rolls back into the storage cabinet, she was startled by a shout from the front of the library. She rushed through the stacks to find Valerie Duffy pounding the buttons on a phone behind the circulation desk. She looked up at Annie, her eyes panicky. “Do you have a cell phone? Our phones are still out from the storm last night.”

  Annie nodded and fished the phone out of her bag. “Call 911!” Valerie urgently cried. “Josephine has collapsed in the children’s room!”

  18

  Annie punched the numbers and handed the phone to Valerie so she could talk the operator through the particulars. Then she followed Valerie back to the children’s area.

  Ms. Booth lay on the floor beside the big freestanding glass case. Two cardboard boxes of toys sat near her, and Grace knelt at her side. She looked up and said, “Annie, could you bring me a couple of the cushions from the children’s area?”

  Annie hurried over and grabbed two of the bright round cushions the small children sat on during story time. When she hurried back, Grace crammed the cushions under Josephine’s legs to elevate them, and then she turned to Valerie who still held Annie’s cell phone to her ear. “Tell them her pulse is steady at eighty,” Grace said.

  Valerie nodded and repeated the information. Then Grace turned back to Annie. “I think someone left a small afghan back in the workroom.” She gestured toward the door behind the librarian’s desk. “Could you get it, please?”

  Annie nodded, glad to have something to do. Behind her she could hear Grace’s capable tone as she passed along information about Josephine’s respiration. Annie’s eyes scanned the floor as she walked. A teddy bear lay sprawled with its rump in the air near the base of the glass display.

  The room behind the librarian’s desk was small, but it held several worn padded chairs and a coffeepot on the corner of a metal desk. Piles of books were tucked in each corner. Annie spotted a soft blue afghan draped over a chair and carried it back to spread over the unconscious woman.

  Grace shifted position to make room, and Annie saw that a toy had been hidden behind Grace’s bent figure. The rag doll from Grey Gables lay near Josephine Booth’s shoulder. Could the doll be related to the older woman’s collapse, or was Annie’s imagination running away with her again?

  Annie concentrated on staying out of the way as Grace took charge of the situation. She sent Valerie back out to man the front desk and watch for the ambulance. Then she asked Annie if she could gather up any scattered toys and put them back into the cardboard boxes.

  “We don’t want anyone to trip over them,” Grace said, her eyes never leaving Josephine’s still face. “And since the toys are on loan, I don’t want any of the children playing with them later today during story time.”

  Annie picked up the teddy bear and the battered rag doll and slipped them into the box. Then she carried the boxes over to tuck them behind the children’s librarian’s desk.

  “Has Ms. Booth been sick?” she asked quietly.

  “I don’t think so,” Grace said. “She’s a bit hypoglycemic, but that’s the only thing she’s ever mentioned. Normally she’s very careful not to get too shaky, though I tend to nag her about snacks just to be sure.” Grace smiled slightly, but it slipped away quickly as she looked worriedly at Josephine’s still face. “I had carried the first box of toys in so she could get started with the display. Usually it’s better if Valerie and I just hand her things and let her work her magic over these displays. She really has the eye of an artist.” Grace seemed to realize she was rambling. She adjusted the edge of the afghan over Ms. Booth’s arm. “I was just getting the second box when I heard the crash. I found her on the floor. I suspect she fainted, but it looks like she may have struck her head as she fell. It’s a bit worrying, though her pupils look fine.” Grace gently lifted the unconscious woman’s hair away from her face, and Annie could see the purplish swelling on the woman’s forehead.

  “You’re certainly handling this well,” Annie said. “I think I would have panicked.”

  “Don and I were both EMTs with the volunteer fire department here for years. He loved helping people,” she said, her voice slightly rough. “I quit when he died, but I suppose it’s not something you forget.”

  Their conversation was cut off by the arrival of the ambulance crew. Two men brought in a stretcher piled with equipment. They shooed Grace and Annie both away and bent over the unconscious woman. Shortly after they began their examination, the older woman’s eyes fluttered and opened.

  “Ms. Booth?” the technician said loudly. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I’m not deaf,” Josephine said as she struggled to sit up. “What happened?”

  “Please, just lie back,” the EMT said, pushing against her shoulders gently. “You fell and hit your head. Do you remember that?”

  The older woman reached a trembling hand up to touch her forehead, but the technician pushed it away. “We’re going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out,” he said.

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” Ms. Booth said, her voice slightly stronger. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just got a little dizzy. I’m hypoglycemic.”

  “We insist,” the EMT said. “You could have a concussion. And we really need to be certain your dizzy spell wasn’t caused by something more serious.”

  She voiced a few more objections in her high thin voice, but the young men loaded her efficiently onto the stretcher and wheeled her out of the library. Grace caught them just at the arch that marked the entrance to the children’s section and lay a gentle hand on the library volunteer’s shoulder. “I’ll come by and see you soon.”

  “Good,” the woman answered, showing more spirit than Annie would have guessed from their earlier conversation. “You can drive me home.”

  Then, just before they wheeled her beyond hearing, Annie was sure she heard Ms. Booth say something about a doll. Annie hurried after the technicians, but they quickly stowed the stretcher onto the ambulance and practically slammed the doors in Annie’s face.

  Annie walked back into the library and crossed the main room to the children’s room. Slipping behind the librarian’s desk, she grabbed the rag doll from the box. She smoothed the faded dress and imagined little Jenny clinging to her doll in the storm. Then she carried it to the front desk where Valerie stood beside Grace.

  “I’m going to take this doll with me if you don’t mind,” Annie said. “I found a reference to it in a journal of my mother’s. I think I need to find out some more about it.”

  “No problem,” Grace answered. “We have two boxes of stuff. I have no idea how we’re going to fit everything in. Especially without Josephine’s help.”

  “Maybe we could just wait until Josephine comes back?” Valerie said tentatively, her voice anxious. “You don’t think she’s going to be out long, do you?”


  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Grace said, patting the other woman on the arm. “But you have to be careful with head injuries. It’s a good sign that she regained consciousness before they took her to the hospital. The longer you’re out, the worse the injury is most of the time.”

  “Do you think they’ll keep her overnight?” Annie asked.

  “At her age, I’m sure of it,” Grace said. “It’s just safer. Why?”

  “I thought I might go by and visit later. Josephine knew my mother. I think it’s something my mom would have done.”

  Grace smiled at Annie warmly. “That’s a terrific idea. I’m sure Josephine would love it. She doesn’t have any family around here anymore. I’ll be popping by this evening too.”

  Annie carried the rag doll out into the sunshine. Something inside her was certain that Josephine Booth was Jo Matthews, her mother’s best friend and Jenny’s sister. If that was true, Annie wasn’t sure how much the older woman would appreciate her digging up the past.

  Still feeling a bit shaky, Annie decided she needed to sit down and sort out her feelings before she tried driving home. She thought about putting the doll in her car before heading to the diner, but somehow she didn’t really want to be parted from it. Though it was Jenny’s doll, her mother had rescued it, and now Annie felt that connection to her mother when she looked at it.

  As she pushed open the door to The Cup & Saucer, the cowbell over the door clanged a welcome. The smell of coffee and bacon wrapped around her like a memory of home, and Annie instantly felt her spirits lift a little. She looked over the crowded room but didn’t spot anyone she knew well, which was fine. She needed a minute to herself after the library emergency.

  She caught sight of Peggy gesturing toward an empty table near the front windows. Annie nodded and headed that way. As Annie slipped into the padded booth seat, Peggy flipped over the coffee mug, but Annie held up her hand.

  “I don’t think I want coffee this time,” Annie said. “I need something calming.”

  Peggy’s brown eyes opened wide, curiosity crackling. “How about some herbal tea? Chamomile is supposed to be calming.” She leaned forward and added in a whisper, “It always tastes like medicine to me, but some people really like it.”

  Her friend’s bluntness coaxed a smile from Annie. “Since you make it sound so good, I’d like a cup, please.”

  “Coming right up.” Peggy bent closer to the table for a moment. “I saw the ambulance go by and stop at the library. Do you know what happened?”

  “One of the volunteers is hypoglycemic,” Annie said. She knew there was no way to head off the town’s gossip train for the sake of Josephine’s privacy, but perhaps she could blunt it a bit. “She fainted.”

  “Oh, I hope she’ll be all right,” Peggy said, concern clear on her face.

  “I think she’s going to be fine. She was conscious when they took her to the hospital,” Annie said. “I got the feeling it was more of a precaution.”

  Peggy’s eyes wandered toward the kitchen where her boss was looking pointedly at them. “OK, tea’s coming up!” she sang out before hurrying away.

  Annie folded her hands on the table and stared out the large window. She saw two young women in the bright colors that seemed to be part of the uniform of Stony Point tourists. The women stood in front of Dress to Impress, gesturing toward the display. Annie knew the dress shop was featuring sundresses to welcome in the warmer weather. She’d spent some time gazing at them herself, trying to decide if she needed one more dress in her closet, considering she spent more time digging around in the attic, gardening, or even slopping through mud than she spent at fancy events.

  Had she really left behind the days of fussing over just the right look, or had she merely traded it in for butting into other people’s lives? Sometimes she felt that her little mysteries were nothing more than that—forcing herself on people who wanted the past to stay silent and buried. Would Josephine Booth feel that way? Annie wondered if her time in Stony Point was accomplishing anything positive.

  Annie’s hand strayed over to fuss with the hem of the doll’s dress. This mystery had given her a glimpse of her mother, and for that she was grateful. For the first time, she really felt she had some things in common with her mother. The journal had changed Annie’s perception of her mother from being a near stranger that Annie held in awe, to a girl with a long, blond ponytail and a deep love for her friends. How could she regret learning that?

  She barely glanced up as Peggy filled her mug with hot water and laid the tea bag beside it. “Are you all right, Annie?” Peggy asked, and this time Annie heard only concern instead of curiosity in the young woman’s voice.

  “I’ll be fine,” Annie said, smiling. “I think I might like some buttered toast to go with this tea.”

  “Coming right up,” Peggy sang out as she turned to head back to the kitchen.

  Annie held the tea up and sniffed the mildly grassy scent. Her eyes turned to the window again as she sipped, deep in thought again. Her mind drifted back to the cool reception she’d gotten when she first came back to Stony Point. She knew Stella Brickson, especially, was certain Annie had come to meddle and pry. Maybe Stella was more right than she knew. Maybe all Annie did was meddle.

  She looked up as Peggy laid the toast on the table in front of her. “I just wanted to say that Wally has been glowing ever since we dropped off the boat. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him so proud. He likes doing all the handyman projects, but making something like that—something that came out of his head and his hands—I think that’s the happiest I’ve seen him outside of fishing. Thank you, Annie.” She patted Annie’s arm, and then hurried over to the next table where a man in a flannel shirt was waving his bill at her.

  Annie smiled after her. Is that some kind of sign? she asked God in her head. She turned to look toward the door as the cowbell drew her attention. Alice and Jim stood just inside the door, scanning the crowd. Annie waved at them, and they headed for her table. The bounce in Alice’s step made her almost seem to be levitating.

  “Wasn’t last night amazing?” Alice asked as she slipped into the booth across from Annie.

  “It was terrifying and wet,” Annie said, agreeably. “The rental car people are going to love you for turning the car into a wading pool, Jim.”

  “The rental car people often have complaints about the state of the cars I use. I’m used to it. I figure if it’s still drivable when I’m done with it, they’ve come out ahead.” Jim levered himself down onto the seat beside Alice, using his cane for the awkward maneuver. Then he turned his rakish grin on Annie. “So, is the mayor still furious with me? I thought he might knock my head off last night.”

  “Poor Jim,” Alice said, giving his bicep a squeeze. “I tried to tell Ian it was all my idea, but I guess it wouldn’t feel the same to loom over me muttering threats.”

  Annie’s eyes grew wide. “Ian threatened you?”

  Jim shook his head. “Alice is being dramatic. No threats.” Then he added with a chuckle. “Plenty of looming though. He was just being protective of his lady. I can respect that.”

  “Ian and I are only friends,” Annie said firmly.

  “Right,” Alice said agreeably, looking out the window to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  “Just like Alice and I,” Jim added.

  “Really?” Alice said, turning to slip an arm through his and lean into him. “Would you beat someone up over me? Huh? Huh?”

  “You know it, Gorgeous,” Jim answered, putting on his best Chicago gangster accent.

  “Really, you two,” Annie said. “Ian and I are just friends.”

  “Someone should tell Ian that,” Jim said agreeably. “Before he rides his white horse all over someone for your sake.”

  Annie tried again to insist that Ian did not have romantic feelings for her, but the discussion was interrupted by another visit from Peggy to take the newcomers’ orders. Annie definitely didn’t wan
t to talk about the mayor in front of Peggy. She’d never squelch the rumors that would spring up.

  Alice and Jim had clearly come in hungry as they both ordered big breakfasts with pancakes, eggs, and sausage.

  “Sleuthing makes me hungry,” Alice said when she caught Annie’s look.

  “Have you been sleuthing this morning?” Annie asked.

  Alice shook her head. “It’s left over from last night. Delayed sleuthing starvation. It’s a clinical disorder. I saw it on television.”

  Annie laughed at Alice’s cheerful silliness. Clearly Jim Parker made her happy. Alice had always been ready for a good adventure, but Annie had sensed sadness in her as well. She knew Alice’s divorce had left scars. Sometimes Alice’s smiles held a melancholy edge, but not today. Today her friend glowed, and from the warm looks Jim turned her way regularly, Annie suspected Alice might have said yes to his invitation to follow him out West.

  She felt a pang at that thought. She wasn’t ready to lose her best friend after just barely reconnecting again. She pushed that idea down as selfish and forced a smile. “So, what are you two planning for today?”

  “Well, I have all the photos I need for this lighthouse,” Jim said. “So basically my job here is done as soon as I track down the information about the little girl who died on the cliffs. I haven’t given up on that.”

  “Oh,” Annie said softly. “I have that information.” She shifted the doll from the top of her purse and rifled through until she found the folded copier paper. She handed it to Jim.

  Jim and Alice read it together, heads nearly touching. “Wow, so the little girl in your mother’s journal was the little girl who died,” Alice said. “Jenny, right?”

  Annie nodded. “And I think I know who Jo is.”

  Alice’s eyebrows climbed in interest.

  “I met Josephine Booth this morning at the library, and she said she’d gone to school with my mother. Obviously, Jo is a shortened form of Josephine, though it doesn’t sound like she goes by it anymore. The women at the library definitely call her Josephine.”