Sweet Hide and Seek (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 9)

by J A Whiting

  Cora’s smile faded a little. “It wasn’t hard, though marriage is an adjustment at any age. Richard was a quiet person who liked staying at home, studying, having a quiet evening while I had always been busy with college clubs and going out and seeing friends. Opposites attract, I guess.”

  “I guess.” Angie nodded. “Did you grow up in Massachusetts?”

  The smile returned to Cora’s face. “Born and bred. I’ve lived in this state all of my life. I grew up right in Mill City. I didn’t get far did I?” she kidded.

  “How about Richard? Did he grow up in Massachusetts?”

  Cora placed her empty teacup and saucer on the side table. “Richard had a difficult young life. He was born in South Carolina, but he and his mother moved around all the time. I think Richard lived in every New England state at least twice. There was never any money, they were always moving, he was always changing schools. The father wasn’t in the picture, Richard doesn’t even know who his father is. His mother was an alcoholic and she was abusive to Richard. He ended up in foster care. The poor man never wanted to talk about it. It was a very traumatic time that he tried very hard to forget and put out of his mind.”

  Angie thought that this bit of news made a lot of sense in suggesting why Richard liked things to be in order and why he might not have enjoyed socializing with lots of people. He may have had insecurities which had developed from his unstable and insecure background that caused him to shy away from people. The trouble with his coworkers may also have stemmed from his childhood insecurities. “Did Richard ever reunite with his mother?”

  Cora shook her head sadly. “He didn’t. She wanted nothing to do with him. The woman ended up in prison for a while and later died of a drug overdose. It took a long time for Richard to reveal these things to me. Honestly, it was a miracle that he told me anything at all. It was just too painful for him to talk about.” Looking at Angie, she lowered her voice. “Our boys don’t know these things. They just know that their dad’s parents died very young.”

  “I’ll keep it in confidence and only share the information with my family and Chief Martin,” Angie reassured Cora. “Have you heard from Jack Ford? Has he found out anything about the possible theft of your husband’s credit card?”

  Cora’s shoulders sagged. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

  Two things bounced around in Angie’s mind … she was pretty sure that Richard wasn’t the one who used his credit card at the New Hampshire motel, and the second thing was a vague, dark, uneasy sensation that grew every time she learned something new about Richard Connors.

  13

  Jenna and her three sisters worked in the dining room of Jenna’s old house painting the walls a soft blue-gray while Euclid and Circe prowled through the rooms of the spacious home. The renovations had been going on for months as Jenna’s fiancé, Tom, worked on the place in between his business’s construction and renovation projects and Jenna spent much of her free time from her jewelry business pulling old wallpaper down, repairing walls and trim, and painting the rooms. Tom kidded her that she’d learned so much and was so skillful that he was going to hire her for his construction company.

  The sisters had the radio playing and when a favorite tune came on, the four of them began to bellow along with the singer at the top of their lungs. Euclid and Circe tore into the room from upstairs afraid that the wailing sounds from the dining room meant that the girls were hurt or in trouble.

  When they saw the alarmed looks of worry on the cats’ faces, Jenna, Courtney, Angie, and Ellie burst out laughing.

  “We’re okay,” Courtney assured the animals from high on the step ladder. “It’s just our awful singing.”

  “Thanks for checking on us.” Angie chuckled and bent to scratch the cats’ cheeks being careful that the paint on the brush in her other hand didn’t drip onto the felines’ fur.

  Assured that everything was fine, the big orange boy and the sweet black girl sauntered away to continue their prowling through the house.

  Ellie carefully painted up to the edge of the wood trim boards. “It’s nice to know they’re always looking out for us.” The two cats seemed to sense whenever any of the Roseland sisters were in trouble and they howled and carried on to let the others know when something was amiss.

  Jenna poured some paint from the can into a smaller container. “I agree. Those two have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to us.” Moving the drop cloth over to cover the floor near the section of wall she was working on, Jenna stood straight with a serious expression on her face. “Speaking of a sixth sense.”

  The others immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at their sister.

  “What is it?” Angie took a step closer.

  “This house has been empty for ages.” A woman named Katrina Stenmark had owned Jenna’s house a long time ago. Katrina had inherited the home, which was two doors down from the Victorian, from her grandparents and she’d lived there with her husband and son for many years. When she died, Katrina had no living relatives so the ownership of the place was in question and it took years and years for the town of Sweet Cove to claim the house, which by then had fallen into terrible disrepair. In a surprising twist, the Roseland sisters discovered that their Nana had been friends with Katrina.

  The sisters waited for Jenna to say more.

  Flicking her eyes to Ellie, Jenna continued in a soft voice. “Katrina had that necklace in her possession.” The necklace that Jenna referred to was, at that moment, locked inside a safe in the Victorian’s office. The necklace had some special powers and just before she’d died, Katrina had passed the pendant for safekeeping to the Roselands’ Nana.

  At the mention of the necklace, Ellie’s face blanched. “What about it?” The girls had been told that someone, sometime, would come to collect the pendant from them and Ellie couldn’t wait to have the piece of jewelry gone, especially because protecting the thing had almost cost them their lives when the Victorian’s carriage house burned in a fire with the girls locked inside. The girls discovered that Ellie was the one who was supposed to keep the necklace safe until the unknown person came to fetch it.

  Jenna stirred the paint in her container. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the necklace … at least, I don’t think it does.”

  Courtney wanted her sister to get to the point. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been thinking about the previous owner lately. I’ve been wondering about Katrina Stenmark and what her life was like.” Jenna sighed and looked to each of her sisters. “Sometimes when I’m working here alone … I have the feeling that I’m not alone.”

  Courtney’s, Ellie’s and Angie’s eyes widened.

  Courtney’s voice bubbled with excitement. “You think there’s a spirit here?” Glancing around with a smile, she added, “Cool.”

  Angie scrutinized her twin sister’s face. “Does it worry you?”

  “Not really.” Jenna dipped her brush into the paint. “I just wonder why someone remains here in the house.”

  “You think it’s Katrina Stenmark?” Ellie looked nervously over her shoulders.

  “I don’t know who it is.” Jenna painted close to the trim board. “I haven’t seen anyone. I just feel someone. Sometimes.”

  “Have you told Tom?” Angie questioned.

  “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first because I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. I wanted to know if you ever sense anything when you’re in here.” Jenna looked from sister to sister.

  “Whenever I‘m here, I’m working so I don’t pay attention.” Courtney cocked her head and smiled. “But I will now.”

  “Is it a faint feeling?” Angie glanced out to the center foyer.

  “When I’m alone, I sense it more strongly. If other people are here, I often don’t feel anything at all.” Jenna knelt to paint above the baseboard. “I haven’t sensed anyone around today.”

  “I need to focus on it.” Angie nodded. “Maybe the spirit only f
eels comfortable when it’s just you here in the house.”

  Ellie made a face.

  A sudden crash from above caused the four young women to jump and stare up at the ceiling.

  “It must be the cats.” Jenna placed her paint brush on the top of the paint can. “They must have knocked something over.” She headed for the staircase with her sisters following behind.

  “Don’t leave me down here alone.” Ellie hurried after the others and as she turned for the stairs, something in the living room caught her eye. “The cats are here curled up on that old beat-up sofa in the living room.” The two felines had lifted their heads to see what was causing the commotion in the foyer. “They look like they’ve been sleeping.” A worried expression passed over Ellie’s face. “If the cats are here, then they didn’t knock anything over upstairs.”

  Jenna, Angie, and Courtney halted their climb up the staircase and looked down at Ellie who stood in the foyer with one foot on the step. Taking a glance up to the second floor landing, Jenna raised an eyebrow. “If the cats are downstairs, then what caused the noise up here?” Gripping the wooden banister, she slowly advanced with her sisters right behind her. “The sound came from the room over the dining room.”

  Four heads peeked into the space and, seeing nothing, they entered a room that had been previously used as a library. Wooden shelves filled with volumes of dusty books covered two of the walls, a fireplace stood to the right, and a large window looked out over the front yard towards Beach Street. Jenna and Tom had not yet removed all of the pieces of furniture that had remained in the house since they planned to keep some of the things and hadn’t had time to decide what to hold on to and what to remove.

  “This is really a beautiful room.” Angie moved around the space. “It would make a great place to read or work on your jewelry designs. You and Tom could share it as an office.”

  An antique sofa stood in the middle of the floor. Carved walnut wood trim ran over the curved back of the piece, but the upholstery was ripped and worn. Jenna hoped to learn how to reupholster furniture so that she could restore the old couch.

  “Tom loves this room.” Jenna looked about the large space trying to find the source of the noise that they had heard from downstairs. “He’s talked about sitting in here reading on a winter evening with a fire burning in the fireplace.”

  Courtney loved books and walked to the shelves where she ran her hand over some leather-bound volumes, bending to read the titles on the spines. “I didn’t notice all of these old books when I was up here before. I bet there are some valuable first editions on these shelves. Katrina Stenmark must have been a collector.”

  “What made the noise?” Ellie stood at the threshold of the room. “Nothing seems out of place.”

  Euclid and Circe brushed past Ellie’s leg and padded into the room where they inspected the four corners, looked up at the shelves, jumped on an old roll-top desk, and sniffed around the chairs and side tables.

  Wondering if a breeze had come in through the window, Angie checked to be sure it was fully closed and locked. “The window’s shut and the glass is intact so it wasn’t the wind blowing through.”

  The cats sat side by side under one of the maple tables watching the sisters inspect the room. Euclid tired of supervising the young women so he let out a low growl which caused the four girls to stop and turn.

  Courtney walked across the room, knelt on the floor, and patted the felines. “What’s up, you two?” Peering under the table, she reached her hand to grasp something and stood up. “A framed picture was on the floor. The glass is cracked. Maybe it fell off the side table.”

  Everyone gathered around to look at the six-by-eight inch photograph that showed an older woman, flanked by two smiling men, sitting on the same antique sofa that still stood in the center of the room. Jenna turned it over and slid the picture out of holder being careful that the cracked glass didn’t fall from the frame. On the back of the photo, the words Katrina, Walter, and Ben were written in careful script.

  “It’s Katrina Stenmark.” Jenna smiled. “This must be her husband and son.”

  “The picture must have fallen off of the side table,” Angie noted. “That must have been what we heard.”

  The sisters paused for a moment and then stared at each other when realization dawned on them.

  “Oh.” Ellie nervously pushed a strand of her long hair over her ear. “It was Katrina Stenmark.”

  “So.” A look of delight showed on Courtney’s face as she smiled at Jenna. “I guess your spirit decided to get your attention and stop playing hide and seek with you.”

  Jenna studied the photo in her hands. “I guess I wasn’t just imagining her being in the house after all.”

  Courtney chuckled and headed out of the room. “You better tell Tom that once you move in here, there will be three of you living in this house.”

  14

  The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows as Jenna, Angie, and Mr. Finch sat in the living room of Cora Connors’s best friend, Jill Jensen’s house. Carrying a few extra pounds, the brown-eyed woman was in her mid-forties and exuded a warm manner. Her dark blonde hair was cut stylishly in soft layers around her face. Jill had made tea and coffee for the guests and the group had settled into conversation about the friendship between Cora and Jill and last September’s disappearance of Richard Connors.

  “Cora and I met in high school and became fast friends. We hung out together all the time. We had other girls in our group, but they came and went.” Jill laughed. “Cora and I stuck together like glue.” The woman told tales of her and Cora’s adventures, their college years, getting jobs teaching at the same school, and their families.

  “Cora and Richard married young,” Angie observed.

  Jill rolled her eyes. “I was against that, as you can imagine. I didn’t think she knew him long enough and I thought they should wait until after graduation to get married. My negativity about the marriage was partially due to knowing that Cora marrying Richard would cut into our friend-time and I wasn’t ready to share my buddy with some man.” Jill smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “I also wasn’t crazy about Richard. I didn’t think they were a good match.”

  Mr. Finch asked, “You didn’t care for the young man?”

  Jill waved her hand around. “Richard was too quiet. I didn’t think he was enough fun. He was too serious and reserved. I thought he was hard to know.”

  Jenna placed her coffee mug on the table. “Did Cora consider your concerns and worries about Richard?”

  “Cora was in love.” Jill sighed. “Richard was her first serious boyfriend. I think she got sucked in by the attention Richard gave her.” Jill leaned forward. “I thought it was smothering, if you want to know the truth. I had the feeling that Richard would try to push me out Cora’s life.”

  “Did he do that?” Angie asked.

  “At first, I felt like he did, but that could have just been jealousy on my part and not being able to spend as much time with my best friend.”

  “You were able to stay friends though,” Mr. Finch noted.

  “It was hard initially. Cora was married and I was a single college girl.” Jill sipped from her mug. “When we both got jobs at the same school after graduation, it was easier because we saw each other every day.”

  “Did you and your husband socialize with the Connors?” Angie questioned.

  “We did.” One corner of the woman’s mouth turned up. “My husband, Mitch, wasn’t best friends with Richard by any stretch. They had differing views about life, but my husband was friendly with Richard because he knew it was important to me that Cora and I stay close.”

  “How did Richard like Mitch?” Jenna wondered if it was difficult for the couples to spend time together.

  “Richard seemed to like Mitch. They never argued or anything, it was all very cordial. Like I said, Richard was sort of hard to know. He never talked about his past, was sort of stand-offish. It always seemed like he was holding
back, like he really didn’t care to be friends with us.”

  “Perhaps,” said Mr. Finch, “Mr. Connors’s reservation with people was due to his difficult upbringing. The man may have a hard time trusting and connecting with others.”

  “Cora told you about Richard’s childhood?” Jill looked carefully from one to other.

  Angie nodded. “She did. Just the basic facts. Not many details.”

  “That’s because Cora doesn’t know many details.” Jill shook her head. “I’ve never met anyone like Richard. The man says nothing about his past. Nothing. It was like he arrived on the planet right before he went to college.” Leaning back against the sofa, Jill’s face scrunched up in thought. “You’d think he’d say something, a tiny thing, about an experience he had, a friend he knew, somewhere he visited. Nothing. I’m not even sure where he went to high school.” Letting out a chuckle, she added, “Richard should have been a government spy because he would never, ever have given up any state secrets.” Jill’s eyes went wide. “Maybe he was a spy.” She grunted. “I never thought of that.”

  “What do you know about Richard?” Angie asked.

  “Probably as much as you know.” Jill brushed at her bangs. “He moved around a lot. His mother was a drug addict. He was in foster care for years.”

  “I wonder why he was never adopted?” Jenna pondered.

  Jill tilted her head to the side, a sad expression on her face. “I don’t think Richard went into the foster care system until he was around twelve or thirteen. Back then, most people wanted to adopt a baby or a young child, not a teenager.”

  Mr. Finch rubbed the top of his cane. “Our early years certainly impact our adult lives, don’t they.”

  Angie glanced at the older man sitting beside her, sure that he was recalling his own terrible older brother who not only stole from Finch, but tried to kill him. She placed her hand on Finch’s arm and gave a squeeze.