by J A Whiting
“What did the ghost want you to find? Just his name?” Viv came over to stand next to her cousin.
Lin’s heart started to pound. “When the police came to check that the bodies weren’t disturbed in the Sparrow mausoleum, I wonder if they just checked to see if there was a skeleton inside. I bet they didn’t check to see if all the body parts were there.”
“Michael Sparrow’s leg bone,” Viv said. “They saw a body was in there, but they didn’t notice the leg bone was gone.”
“I need to talk to the caretaker. He was at the inspection. I’ll ask him about it. Why was that tomb targeted?” Lin pushed her hair back and started looking through the file again. When she turned her head to look at the other cabinets, a whoosh of dizziness washed over her and she grabbed the table to keep her balance.
Viv noticed and took hold of Lin’s arm. “What is it? Is there a ghost?”
Lin slowly straightened. “It’s old. That’s the reason. The Sparrow mausoleum is old. There probably aren’t any relatives left alive.” Lin’s voice shivered with excitement. “No one would notice if the mausoleum was tampered with. The thief must be stealing bones from tombs that are old, that way there’s no one to notice any signs of a break-in.”
“We should check the locks on some of the older mausoleums.” Viv made sure that all of the files she looked through were put back properly.
When things had been straightened up, the girls left the cottage. Nicky was sitting on the grass at the bottom of the steps and he stood up and wagged when he saw Viv and Lin. As Lin was locking the door, a wave of nervousness or anxiety came over her. She paused trying to figure out what was causing the sensation.
“Come on, Lin. Let’s get out of here.” Viv and Nicky started off towards the far end of the cemetery.
Lin shook herself, turned the doorknob to be sure it had locked, and hurried after her cousin. They walked along the path to the older stone tombs where Viv pointed the light around looking for dates carved into the entrances. Lin used her light to inspect each lock from the front and back and she yanked on them to see if they might come loose. Everything appeared to be in order.
Viv yawned. “Let’s go home. It’s so late.”
“There are only two left. We may as well finish.” Lin practically had to drag her feet up the slight hill to the last buildings. She wished she was at home in her bed covered over with a soft blanket. Impatience and annoyance that she wasn’t making enough progress with this case picked at her and made her feel weak and out of sorts.
The girls repeated their routine and again found nothing.
Viv said, “It’s just like the last time we checked the locks. Nothing seems to be wrong with any of them.”
As they trudged to the next mausoleum, little sparks twinkled in Lin’s vision and she groaned thinking that a migraine was coming on. She pushed her finger against her temple and rubbed. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder and thumped to the ground.
“This one’s really old.” Viv was looking up at the beam of light encircling the date stone. “Did we miss this one last time we were here?”
Lifting up her backpack, Lin shifted her eyes to the final mausoleum and had to snap her eyes shut from the blinding light emanating from between the building’s stones. She shielded her eyes and turned her head away.
“What’s wrong with you?” Viv took a step closer and stared at her cousin.
Lin blinked. The light was gone. She told Viv what had happened. Lin’s heart pounded and she felt light-headed. “What’s the name on the building?”
“Stacey.”
Pings of recognition bounced in her head, but she couldn’t figure out why. Lin walked to the front of the structure. Long vines grew over the roof and both sides of the mausoleum which, like the others, was partially tucked into the hillside.
Nicky let out a deep bark that made both girls jump.
“Shh,” Lin told the dog. “No barking, Nick.”
A wrought-iron gate was built in place to swing over the front door. The heavy old lock on the gate did its job and wouldn’t budge when Lin gave it a yank. There were no indications of it being cut or tampered with in any way.
Viv let out a long sigh followed by an even longer yawn. “This is a goose chase. Let’s go home.”
Lin’s shoulders drooped with disappointment as she tried to reconcile seeing the light shining out of the stones with finding the mausoleum locked up tight. Shaking her head, she noticed something near the bottom of the gate. She ran her hand down one of the gate’s iron posts to the bottom and her eyes widened. Lin followed the post up to where the top hinge attached to the building. “Viv.” The word floated on the air.
Viv stopped.
“This gate.”
Viv hurried over and pointed her flashlight where Lin indicated.
“This part has been removed.” Lin indicated a section of the gate. “This part of the gate isn’t attached to either side.” Lin’s heart nearly exploded with excitement. “Help me. Push here.”
A section of the gate slid back just enough to give access to the heavy door to the tomb.
“Well, well.” Viv put her hand on her hip. “Someone thought they were pretty clever rigging the gate like that.”
Lin could feel that the back of the lock on the door to the mausoleum had been cut. She yanked on it and the shank released. “They thought their sneaky manipulation of the gate would let them get away with breaking in here.”
“They did get away with it.” Viv cocked her head and smiled. “Until now.”
23
Lin knocked on the door of Nantucket historian Anton Wilson’s home. The door swung open a second after Lin lifted her hand from it.
“Carolin. Right on time. Come in.” Anton led Lin and Nicky into the country kitchen at the rear of the antique house. The dog curled on the rug in front of the fireplace and Lin and Anton sat at the old worn wooden table.
Anton was thin and wiry and had gray hair combed back over his head. He wore black frame glasses that often slid down his nose requiring that he give them a push back into place. Anton’s manner could be intense and Lin was slightly afraid of him when they’d first met.
A tray was set in the center of the table with a carafe of coffee, a jug of iced tea, a creamer and a silver bowl of sugar cubes. Coffee cups and tall glasses stood at the ready beside a plate of assorted cookies.
“Help yourself.” Anton had diagrams and family trees and books and papers spread all over the table top. He loved island history, had written many books on the subject, and would spend hours discussing it with anyone who showed the slightest interest.
Lin poured a glass of iced tea for each of them. She passed the sugar bowl to Anton and took a ginger cookie from the plate.
Anton started to lecture about the Coffin family who were early settlers of Nantucket and pointed to the different branches of the family on the huge sheet of paper that was only one small part of the generational line. Lin munched her cookie and listened as Anton rattled on becoming more excited and animated as he went.
After fifteen minutes, Lin sipped her drink and cleared her throat. “Anton.”
The historian stopped in mid-sentence and looked over his glass frames. “Yes? A question?”
“Not really a question.” Lin folded her arms on the table. “It’s the Stacey family I’m wondering about. I don’t think they’re related to the Coffins.” When Lin spoke to Anton on the phone she’d told him that she was trying to recall information about the Stacey family because the name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place them and wondered if he could help.
Anton pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Right. I’m in the middle of writing a book about this side of the Coffin family and, well, you know how I am.” He batted his hand in the air and then moved some papers to the side. He slid a different family tree forward. “Yes. Stacey. Another of the early founding families. One of them went on to found the Stacey chain of department stores.” Anton followed
a branch of a family line and then stopped. He looked at Lin. “Why are you asking about them?”
Lin told Anton about last night’s cemetery visit. Anton knew that Lin could see ghosts so he wasn’t alarmed when she described her late evening visit from the spirit she believed was Michael Sparrow. She also relayed her suspicions that the leg bone she’d found at the farmhouse might belong to the ghost.
Anton curled up his lip. He accepted ghostly visitations and Libby Hartnett’s ability to sometimes “see” things, but grave robbing and discovering bones made him shudder. “Nasty business.”
Lin told him about the cleverly adjusted gate on the Stacey mausoleum that slid back in order to give access to the door and the lock. “Which happened to be broken by the way.”
“Did you go inside?” Little beads of perspiration showed on Anton’s forehead.
Lin shook her head. “We left things as we found them and this morning Viv and I paid a visit to the police station. We told them what we found and that we suspected that the crypts inside the mausoleum may have been robbed. We left out who we suspect as robbers though.”
“Probably wise.” Anton dabbed his head with a napkin. “Not a good idea to accuse people without some evidence.”
“So the Stacey family?” Lin encouraged the historian to continue.
Anton explained the different branches and what each line had accomplished on and off the island. Lin was about to interrupt again when Anton reached for a book and flipped the pages. “Here.” He placed his finger on the page. “Yes, the Mid-Island Cemetery mausoleum has four members of the Stacey family entombed in it, a husband, wife, and two children who passed before reaching the age of eighteen. See here. The wife is Nora Stacey.” Anton pointed to the diagram of the family trees. “She was a very distant relative of yours.”
Lin’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Nora Stacey was Emily Witchard Coffin’s sister.”
Lin’s mouth dropped open. “Her sister? Then that’s why Emily appears to me. That’s why she wants me to help solve it.” She raised her eyes to Anton and spoke softly. “I’d bet anything that someone stole Nora Stacey’s bones. I’ll bet all four family members’ bones have been taken.”
Anton dabbed his face again. “Oh, how disturbing.” He had to sit down.
Lin turned the conversation to other topics so that Anton could focus on something pleasant. Nicky got up from dozing when he sensed Anton’s distress and went over and nudged at the man with his nose. Anton reached down and stroked the dog’s smooth fur. Slowly, Anton relaxed.
Lin smiled at her smart little creature and gave him a wink.
* * *
Lin sat at a café table in the bookstore with Libby Hartnett and Viv and told them about the connection between Nora Stacey and Emily Coffin. She ran her finger over her horseshoe necklace and looked at Viv and Libby. “Which means Nora Stacey is a very distant relative of all of ours.”
Viv opened her mouth to speak, but was so surprised by the news that she didn’t know what to say.
“No wonder Emily wants you to help with this.” Libby’s blues eyes flashed. “Quinn is involved? I liked that young man.” She shook her head. “I suppose greed can get the best of many.”
“It was just too easy for him.” Viv’s lips were tight with disgust. “He had access and opportunity. We should have suspected him earlier.”
“And this young woman, Chloe Waring. She seems involved from what you saw.” Libby looked at Lin. “Quinn and his wife always seemed happy together. Why is he with this other woman?”
“Maybe they’re just working together,” Viv suggested. “Maybe it’s strictly business.”
A cloud had settled over Libby’s face. “What’s the next step in getting some evidence that Quinn and Chloe Waring are the grave robbers?”
“I’m going out to Quinn’s house tomorrow,” Lin said. “He has a truck to sell and I’m in the market for one. It will give me a chance to see him interact with his wife and I can get a look around the place. Maybe something will stand out. Maybe I’ll see something that can tie him to the crime.”
“You’re not going alone?” Libby was concerned for Lin’s safety.
“Jeff is going with me. He can chat up Quinn while I glance around.”
“Leave Nicky here with me tomorrow,” Viv offered. “He hasn’t visited with Queenie in a while. Then you can tell me what you found out when you come to pick him up.”
“What about other suspects?” Libby asked.
“We suspected Jonas Bradley, too.” Lin took a sip of her tea. “He’s an odd one and he drove an older, dark sedan which looked a lot like the car Viv and I saw at the cemetery.”
“But,” Viv said, “he doesn’t have the opportunity that Quinn has and the other day, we saw Chloe driving his dark-colored car. We wondered if she bought it from Jonas and is using it to transport bones from the cemetery.”
Lin added, “Quinn seems the more likely suspect, but if he proves to be innocent then we’ll take another look at Jonas.”
John came around the corner, spotted the three women at the table, and sat down with them. He caught Mallory’s eye and ordered a latte. The girls filled him in on what had been going on. They left out the parts about the ghosts.
“I know who Chloe Waring is.” John’s latte was delivered to the table. “She owns a boat down at the docks.” John lived on his boat and knew or was familiar with many of the people who kept vessels. “She isn’t on my dock, but I’ve seen her coming and going.”
“Does she live on her boat?” Viv asked.
“I don’t think so. Hers is like my boat so she could live on it, but I don’t think she does. I think she lives in town. I’m not a hundred percent sure though.”
Viv leaned in. “Whether she lives on it or not, having a boat is sure convenient, isn’t it?”
Lin agreed. “She can use the boat to ferry the bones to the mainland. Keep them in suitcases. No one would ever know what she was up to.”
John’s phone buzzed and he read the incoming text. His eyebrows shot up and he looked at Viv and Lin. “You were right.”
Viv cocked her head.
“It’s my friend at the police station. Officers and a medical examiner went to the Mid-Island cemetery today. There’ll be a press conference later. The Stacey mausoleum is empty.”
24
Lin had arranged a meeting time with Quinn to take a look at the truck he had for sale. Jeff had to work on the other side of the island so he was going to meet Lin there. The road to Quinn’s place went right by the farmhouse where Lin and Leonard had been working. The landscaping was almost complete and they were quite pleased with the way it had turned out.
Lin drove along thinking about the case and wondering if there would be anything at Quinn’s house that might be used to tie him to the grave robberies. She knew it was a long shot since she couldn’t just wander off by herself while she was there, but she hoped she might see or sense some small thing that could lead to evidence.
A half-mile from the farmhouse, the truck sputtered and wouldn’t respond to Lin pushing on the gas pedal. Giving a few sporadic lurches, the engine let out a gasp and gave out. Lin braked and eased the old truck to the side of the road. Letting out a couple of curses, she turned the key in the ignition a few times only to be met with a grinding sound and then nothing. Bah.
Lin reached for her bag and took out her phone. She sent a text to Leonard asking if he was working at the farmhouse. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while waiting for a reply. When he didn’t answer, she texted Jeff to let him know that the truck had died and that she was going to walk to the farmhouse to see if Leonard might still be working there. Lin would let Jeff know if she could get a ride from Leonard to meet him at Quinn’s house. Setting down her phone on the passenger seat, she removed the keys from the ignition and put them in her bag.
Lin covered the half-mile quickly and walked down the farmhouse’s long driveway. Leonard wasn’t th
ere. Sighing, she reached for her phone to text Quinn that she’d be late. Her hand fished around in her bag searching for the phone when Lin realized she’d left it in the truck. What else can go wrong?
She headed for the Sawyer’s house next door to borrow their phone to call Jeff, and then she’d walk back to the truck to wait for him. Lin pushed through the brush and low-hanging branches to cut over to the Sawyer’s house.
Clouds had rolled in blocking the sun and making the early evening darker than usual. A sense of unease pinged at Lin as she climbed the steps to the Sawyer’s front door and pushed on the doorbell. Usually Olive opened the door within a few seconds which always made Lin feel like the woman had been spying on her, but today no one answered.
She pushed the bell again and waited. Nothing. Lin walked to the end of the porch and looked down the driveway. The two usual cars were parked in front of the garage.
Lin walked back to the door and knocked on it in case the bell didn’t chime when she’d pushed it. The door opened a crack from the force of the knock. Lin’s throat tightened. “Olive?” When there was no response from inside, Lin put her hand on the door and opened it a few inches. “Lloyd? Is anyone home? It’s Lin Coffin.” She peeked inside.
On the pale blue foyer floor tiles, were several large drops of blood. Lin sucked in a quick breath. “Olive?” She stood quietly at the door listening. The house was as quiet as a tomb.
Although Lin’s first instinct was to run away as fast as she could, she worried that Olive and Lloyd were hurt inside so she took a hesitant first step into the entryway. She thought of finding the house phone and calling the police, but since she’d contacted the police twice already in the past days she thought she should look around first in case one of the Sawyers had only cut themselves and might be resting somewhere at the back of the house.