by J A Whiting
Lin’s face brightened.
“I’ll let you know what time and if the installation will be Thursday or Friday.” He shook her hand.
Walking Jeff to the door, Lin thanked him for his time and told him she looked forward to having the door installed. As soon as the cottage door was shut, she whirled to confront the ghosts who were both floating near the threshold to the kitchen. “Who are you?” Lin demanded. She took several steps forward. “Why are you here?”
The man and woman’s shimmering atoms began to swirl and fade and then the man was gone, but just before the woman disappeared she gave Lin a little wave.
The room was empty. Nicky wagged his tail still staring at the spots where the ghosts had stood.
Lin stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips. “Arrghh,” she roared in frustration.
7
With Nicky at her heels, Lin opened the gate beneath the trellis of the white picket fence and stepped along the stone walkway to the front door of Viv’s Cape Cod style house. The shingles on the cottage, a Nantucket tradition, had weathered to a soft silver-gray. Pink roses spilled over the fence. The front door and the shutters on each side of the windows were a soft shade of robin’s-egg blue. Flowers overflowed from the window boxes. Lin stepped to the door and rang the bell.
She heard Viv call for her to come inside.
Nicky trotted in, put his nose against the wood floor, and sniffed around trying to find Queenie. The cat, sitting upright on the back of the sofa, watched the dog rush past oblivious to the feline’s presence. The cat lay down and studied the furry animal hurrying to and fro about the room. As she waited for the dog to discover her, Queenie made eye contact with Lin.
Lin glanced at the silly dog rushing about, grinned at the cat, shrugged a shoulder, and shook her head.
Viv greeted her cousin with a warm smile. Standing at the kitchen counter, she rubbed garlic over sliced Italian bread and then drizzled it with olive oil.
Lin placed a platter on the table and gave Viv a hug. “I brought a green salad with pecans, strawberries, and goat’s cheese. It smells delicious in here.” She inhaled deeply. “Wow, you had time to make lasagna?”
“Cooking always seems to calm me.”
“Well, I’m glad it does because then I get a tasty meal.” Lin grinned as she removed two wine glasses from the cabinet.
Viv placed the cookie sheet with the bread into the oven. “I left the bookstore early. I was a bundle of nerves and good for nothing, so I came home. Anyway, I had to meet a workman who is going to repair some wall boards near the fireplace.”
An uncomfortable sense of cold flashed through Lin’s body when Viv mentioned the fireplace. She shook herself. “What’s wrong with the wall?”
“The boards are bulging out for some reason. A bit of the wall has to be opened up and new boards put in. It’s an old house, things always need to be fixed or replaced.”
“That’s the beauty of antique homes.” Lin smiled as she put the wine glasses on a tray. The girls often complained about all the things that needed attention when living in an older home.
“John can’t make it for dinner. He has to meet clients this evening which is just as well because now we can talk freely about things.” Viv raised an eyebrow and gave her cousin a pointed look.
“Did you tell him about the police officer’s visit to see you today?” Lin poured wine into the glasses.
Viv gave a nod. “I tried to downplay it, but John’s worried. I assured him that the killer would be caught soon and everything will be fine.” She looked up from her task, her eyes heavy with concern. “I wish I could convince myself.”
When the meal was ready, the girls carried their plates and glasses out to the deck and sat down at the wooden table. One side of the deck was attached to an ell that jutted off the back of Viv’s house. The ell, original to the house, was a one story structure that once housed a kitchen, but now was used for storage. Two sides of the deck were open to the yard and gardens. The sun had fallen behind the trees at the back of Viv’s small property and the air carried a refreshing coolness that caused Lin to put on her sweater.
“Have you come up with any ideas about why ghosts are suddenly appearing out of the blue?” Viv took a sip of her wine.
Lin shook her head. She told her cousin about the latest ghosts to materialize in her house. “I nearly had a stroke when the ghost-woman floated into the kitchen and anchored herself right next to the carpenter. I couldn’t focus on anything he was saying.” She made a sad face. “He probably thinks I’m a nut.”
“More likely, he didn’t even notice your distress.” Viv rubbed her forehead. “Why don’t you talk to these ghosts? Ask them what’s going on around here. Can’t they be helpful and not just stand around staring at you?”
Lin sighed. “It doesn’t work that way. They say what they want, when they want.”
“Have you ever tried asking them a question?”
Lin narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever asking a spirit a question when she was little. It had been so long ago when spirits revealed themselves to her on a regular basis, but no, she was pretty sure she had never asked any of them a question. “Not when I was little. I don’t think I ever did. Today I asked the ghosts some questions, but I was angry and they disappeared.”
“Maybe you should try asking things in a tactful way. Be polite, respectful.” Viv lifted a forkful of lasagna to her mouth.
Lin had a feeling that wouldn’t work.
Viv looked out at the back of her garden and let out a long sigh. “Why on earth would Greg Hammond be so determined to own this place? It’s cute and well-tended, but so are all the other houses around here. The house is old, but again, so are the other places in the neighborhood. The house and property are small. There isn’t room to expand. Why was his interest so intense?”
Lin swallowed a bite of garlic bread and glanced about the backyard. “Have you seen any ghosts around here?”
Viv’s eyes bugged out. “Me?” Her eyes flicked nervously around the lawn area and her shoulders hunched together. “I can’t see ghosts.” Her voice held a slight tone of panic. “You see ghosts.” Hesitating for a second, she asked, “Can you see any?”
“No, but I wonder...”
Viv leaned forward. “What? What do you wonder?”
“I feel like these things have to be related. Greg Hammond was so desperate to get his hands on your house, me seeing ghosts again, the murder. It can’t be coincidence.”
“Then what is it?” Viv gave Lin a worried look.
“It seems that it all centers on this house. I know that it’s been in the family for generations, but what is it about this particular house? We don’t know much about it really. Do you know more about its history than I do?”
Viv’s shoulders relaxed and her tension seemed to ease. “It was built in the early 1700’s and was owned by several members of Grandma’s family before she inherited it. When she got sick, my mom bought it from Grandma and she and dad moved in to take care of her. Your mom and dad were living on the mainland at the time. My mom had a great desire to own the house of her ancestors so she convinced dad they should buy it. Then my parents left it to me. That’s about all I know.”
“So,” Lin tapped her chin, thinking. “Is it something from the past that Hammond was after? Or is it something more recent? Did Grandma or your parents leave something valuable in the house?”
Viv’s eyes went wide. “Like what?”
“Hidden money, jewelry?”
“No.” Viv rolled her eyes. “You know there isn’t anything valuable in here.”
“In the attic?” Lin tilted her head.
Viv scowled. “The attic? It’s not very big. You can’t even stand up in there. You have to hunch over. I don’t know what’s up there. Probably nothing.”
“Maybe we should go look.”
Viv wrinkled her nose and groaned. “I hate attics.” She shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m too wo
und up from the day.” She gave her cousin a look. “We’ll do it another time.”
Darkness had fallen around them. A sudden cool wind blew across the yard. The candle on the table flickered, sputtered, and burned out. Viv took a quick look to the sky, alarmed. She reached for her plate and glass, ready to hurry back inside the house.
“Wait,” Lin whispered. She felt something on the air and looked to the fence that ran along the property line between Viv’s garden and the yard of the old mansion on the other side of the fence. It almost seemed like words were floating on the breeze, but Lin couldn’t make them out.
Viv peered over her shoulders into the dark yard. She kept her voice low. “I want to go in.” She leaned forward. “Lin. Now.”
“Hold on.” Lin thought that she could sense something trying to materialize. She sighed when the feeling passed. “It’s only the wind. Don’t be so jumpy.”
Viv kept flicking her eyes around the dark yard.
“Do you think this whole mess could have something to do with our ancestors?” Lin fiddled with her glass. The cousins’ ancestors had been among the early founders of the island and some had been prominent figures in Nantucket’s whaling industry.
“How do you mean?” Viv narrowed her eyes.
“That spirit who shows up in eighteenth-century clothes makes me think that all this stuff that’s been going on must have some link to our past.”
“This whole thing is giving me a headache.” Viv leaned back against her chair. “We need to start investigating Hammond’s murder. Listen to conversations. Ask people questions. Ghosts don’t seem to be any help. We need to talk to living people to get some answers.”
Lin shrugged. She wasn’t convinced that ghosts couldn’t help, but she didn’t say anything about that. “My first landscaping jobs start tomorrow. I’ll bring up the murder and see what people have to say. Any little thing can lead to important information. We’ll keep our ears open.” Lin gave her cousin a smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. We’re a good team.”
Even though worry was etched across her forehead, Viv nodded. “Let’s go clean up.”
Lin gathered her dishes and as she followed her cousin into the house, she looked back over the dark garden. I know you’re there. What do you want?
8
Lin pulled her truck into the driveway of an antique Cape-style house, her last stop of the day. The sun beat down on her as she grabbed her work bag out of the back of the truck and then let Nicky out of the passenger side. The little brown dog wagged his tail and followed Lin to the door, where she rang the bell. She preferred to alert the homeowners before she headed into the gardens to work so as not to alarm them when they spied someone in their yards.
No one answered the bell, so Lin walked down the steps and followed the brick walkway around to the back of the property. A large bluestone patio stood behind the house and pots of different sizes filled with flowers had been placed around the area. A border of pink and white impatiens, red geraniums, and pink and white cleome ran along the edge of the lawn.
Lin started at one end of the patio pots picking out dead blooms and tossing them into a container she’d brought along. While she unrolled a garden hose to water the pots, Nicky trotted around the patio and the small lawn sniffing out the new smells. When the dog let out a woof of surprise, Lin dropped the hose and whirled around to see an older man emerge from the trees on the far side of the lawn.
The gray-haired, skinny, wiry man carried a pair of hedge clippers and he waved as he approached the patio. “Hello. You must be the new gardener.” He gave a warm smile and extended his hand. “Anton Wilson.”
Nicky hid behind Lin which puzzled the young woman. Goosebumps formed along her arms. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the dog act so cautiously and his behavior unnerved her.
She shook hands with the man. “Lin Coffin.”
“Coffin? I don’t remember hearing your last name. You’re a Coffin, are you?”
Lin nodded. “My last name isn’t on the garden company website or invoices.” She eyed the clippers. “Is there some trimming you’d like me to take care of?”
“Oh my, no. I like to putter. I gave the hedges a little trim.” He waved to the back of the property. “I just need someone to take care of the watering and weeding. I’m always working and I’m often away so that’s why I contracted with you for the flowers.”
“Well, if you ever need something extra done, I’d be glad to help out.”
“So tell me, which line of the Coffins are you related to?” Wilson looked eagerly at Lin.
“My family is descended from Sebastian Coffin.”
Wilson gave a little gasp. “How wonderful. A most intriguing fellow. Not the most famous of the Coffins, but I believe his is the most interesting line of the family.” He gave Lin a wink.
“I don’t know our history, really. I just know that Sebastian didn’t follow the rest of his family into the whaling business back in the day.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Wilson’s bushy gray eyebrows rose up his forehead. “But the whaling is the least intriguing part of the family.”
“How do you know so much about the Coffins?” Lin cocked her head.
Wilson straightened up. “I’m a historian, my dear. I’ve written extensively about your family.” He looked over at the door to the house. “Do you have time for a cold drink?” He gestured to the patio table. “I can tell you a bit about your family tree.”
Lin hesitated, but she was feeling worn out from the long day of outside work. She wasn’t used to working in the heat, bending and squatting to weed, and pushing a lawn mower up and down yards. Her legs felt like jelly. A cold drink sounded very good and she wondered if this man who knew so much about the island might have heard some information about the murder of Greg Hammond. “A cold drink would be great.”
“Sit, please.” Wilson smiled and pulled out one of the lawn chairs. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
Easing into the chair, Lin was keenly aware of her sore muscles and she knew that the achy feeling would be even worse when she got up the next morning. Her mouth turned up in a tiny grin as she pictured herself limping around the gardens of the next day’s customers.
She looked down at her brown dog sitting under the table. “What’s wrong with you, Nick? Why don’t you come out from under there?” The dog didn’t budge.
Just then, Mr. Wilson came out of the house carrying a small tray with two glasses clinking with ice, a jug of iced tea, and a silver bowl filled with sugar cubes. He bustled to the table and set down the tray. “Here we are. I hope you like iced tea.” Wilson filled the glasses and handed one to Lin.
She was so hot and sweaty, Lin wanted to pour the cold liquid right over her head, but she controlled herself. She took a sip from the glass. “Wonderful.”
“So tell me.” Wilson leaned forward eagerly. “Have you lived here on the island your whole life?’
Lin explained that she was born on Nantucket, but that she’d grown up in Cambridge and spent time back on the island with her grandfather during summers and some weekends.
“What was your grandfather’s name?”
“Elliot Coffin.”
Wilson tapped his fingers on the surface of the wood table. “Ah. I knew him slightly from town events.
“And your father?”
“His name was Elliot, as well.”
“You know, I have some research in the house. Some day you must stay after tending the gardens and I’ll show you your family tree. I think you’ll find it most interesting.” He tilted his head. “Do you have siblings?”
Lin shook her head. “My parents passed away when I was only a year old.”
“I’m sorry,” Wilson murmured. “So then you are Elliot’s firstborn.”
Lin raised an eyebrow at the comment wondering why the older man mentioned that she was her father’s first and only child. She waited for him to elaborate.
Wilson studied the young woman’s fa
ce. “Your grandfather raised you?”
“He did.”
“Interesting. And what about your mother?”
“Her name was Merry Witchard.”
Wilson almost leapt from his seat with excitement. “Then you are both a Witchard and a Coffin. My, my. In my opinion, the Witchard family is the most fascinating of all the early founders.” His voice was breathless. “Yes, fascinating.” Wilson’s gray-blue eyes ran over the curves and edges of Lin’s face. His gaze didn’t hold any warmth or desire, his visual scrutiny was more like a clinical inspection of a specimen and it made Lin want to move away from him.
The young woman pushed her chair back. “I’d better get going. I have another stop to make,” she lied. “Thank you for the iced tea.” She stood.
Wilson got up. “When you return at the end of the week, please stay and we can go over your family trees.” He gave Lin a pointed look. “I do think you’ll enjoy hearing about your family histories.”
“That sounds good. It was nice to meet you.” Lin picked up her bag of tools and walked briskly to the front of the house. “Come on, Nick.”
The little dog scooted out from under the patio table and rocketed past his owner down the front walkway to their truck.
9
Lin was covered in sweat and she had grass and soil pressed into the knees of her jeans as she hurried into Viv’s bookstore with Nicky at her heels. She wanted to talk to her cousin about Anton Wilson. Striding to the back of the store expecting to see Viv at the beverage counter, Lin nearly collided with someone stepping into the aisle from behind one of the bookshelves.
“I’m sorry.” Lin stopped her forward momentum just in time to keep from plowing into the person. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“You’re in quite a hurry, Carolin.” It was the white-haired woman who had known Lin’s grandfather. Lin had met her the other morning at the bookstore just before they’d heard that someone had been killed down at the docks.