Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4)

by Sheila Connolly

  Abby hadn’t told Ellie about the woman she had met at the historical society in Littleton, mainly because she was trying to figure out exactly what had happened there. She had most definitely had a conversation with that woman, who as it turned out had died several months earlier. Now was not the right moment to bring that up, not when she couldn’t explain it herself.

  Finally she said, “I agree with you. I don’t know what you’ve read or seen or heard, but I don’t believe these spirits, or whatever we decide to call them, can do anything physical to us. The fact that we’re seeing them at all might be scary. You and I understand it, just a bit, but other people would think we’re crazy.”

  “Mom’s not too happy about it, that’s for sure. And I don’t tell other people. Even if they did see them, they’d just be scared, because they don’t understand.”

  “It’s hard for your mother to understand, although I know she wants to. Try to imagine that you can see a color that nobody else sees. There are colors—infrared, ultraviolet—that some animals and insects do see, but we can’t, because we’re not tuned to that wavelength.”

  “And there are sounds that dogs can hear that we don’t,” Ellie replied eagerly.

  “Exactly. You and I, and some other people, happen to see on a different wavelength, kind of.”

  “How many more people like us are there?” Ellie asked.

  “Ellie, I have no idea. I’m still trying to figure out what it is, and until I do that, I can’t go around asking other people if they see dead people. They’d probably lock me up.”

  “What about Ned?” Ellie said, her eyes on the sun as it slipped past the horizon.

  “What about him?”

  “He sees them. Right?”

  “Yes, he does. That’s how we found each other, kind of. He didn’t tell me he could for a long time, because he wanted to see how I handled it, and if it was real. For a long time he didn’t believe what he was seeing, and I was the first person he’d met who could do what he did. We’ve been helping each other since then. He spent a long time trying to squash whatever it was, and it wasn’t working. I think he was relieved when he could finally talk to me about it.”

  Abby realized she was getting into murky water. There were so many questions that Ellie must want to ask that Abby was afraid to answer. They were all so new to this phenomenon, feeling their way along, lurching from event to event, each one of which added a little more information. But neither she nor Ned could claim to understand what was happening to them, and they hadn’t expected to have to explain it to a child. “Do you feel anything now, here? Do you think it’s a person?”

  Ellie went still, as if listening, then she slumped. “Not right now. Are people stuck in one place, or attached to one thing, do you think?”

  “Sometimes. But I’ve seen the same person in more than one place, at different times of their life. It’s like they leave an imprint at certain places where something important happened to them. Almost like a photograph, a snapshot.”

  “Think I could take a picture of them?” Ellie asked.

  “I have no idea. But it’s an interesting idea. Maybe if we see a cemetery you can try.” The sun was gone, and shadows were gathering. Other people must have come home while they were out, because they could hear the clinking of glasses and china through open windows, and other windows glowed like gold in the dusk. And a few mosquitoes had come out to hunt. “I think it’s time to go inside—and remind me to get bug spray tomorrow.”

  Chapter 6

  It was fully dark when Abby led the way upstairs. The beds were made up, and Abby helped Ellie navigate the unfamiliar bathroom, then took her to her bedroom. “Do you want me to close the curtains?”

  “No, I like to hear the water. This isn’t the ocean, is it?”

  “No, it’s a harbor, but it does have tides, so the water keeps moving. Light on or off?”

  “Can I read for a while? I’ll turn off the light when I’m finished.”

  “Okay, but not for too long. I’ll leave the door to the hall open a crack, and the light on in the bathroom, if you have to find it in the middle of the night. And if you need me, I’m right across the hall. I think I’ll read for a while too.” After I call Ned.

  “Okay. What are we going to do tomorrow?”

  “Well, we could go to the beach, or to Woods Hole, or find something else if you want. Let’s check the Internet in the morning and see what sounds good.”

  “Good.” Ellie hesitated just a moment. “Hug?”

  “Of course.” Abby sat on the bed and gathered the girl’s slight body against her. Was Ellie really so brave, or was she trying to put on a good front? This was an unfamiliar place, and she knew her father was sick and her mother was worried—Ellie had every right to be upset. Abby planned to check on her before she went to sleep, and she would definitely leave her own door open in case Ellie called out in the night.

  She went across the hall to the other bedroom and flopped on the bed, pulling her cell phone out of her purse, which she had brought up earlier. She made a mental note to keep the phone—and its charger—nearby in case Leslie or Ned needed to reach her. She called Ned’s own cell and he answered quickly. “Everything okay?”

  “Of course it is. Stop worrying. We’re on vacation at a nationally renowned resort area along with thousands of other people. We spent the day wandering around Falmouth, and bought food and made dinner. Ellie’s in her bed reading a book.”

  “It sounds very domestic. I’m a bit worried about the weather forecast, though.”

  “What do I need to know? I haven’t even plugged in my laptop or listened to the radio.”

  “The storm is kind of wandering around slowly, but it looks like it might clip your area on the way by. Lots of wind and rain, if nothing else. If it looks bad, will you clear out?”

  Abby sighed inwardly. Ned seemed unusually worried, so she should keep an eye on the forecasts. But what was “bad”? And how was she supposed to decide? If anything, she thought trying to cross the bridge would be riskier than hunkering down where they were now. She promised herself to check the weather reports in the morning, when she booted up her computer.

  “We’ll see. Any word from Leslie?” she asked.

  “No, and no phone messages. She probably has her hands full. How are you and Ellie getting along?”

  “Fine. She’s a good kid. Where was that beach you mentioned? Because we’re not exactly on the water here.”

  “Old Silver Beach, back up the main road. You probably passed a sign for it on your way there. It’s not far. It’s a public beach, but I think you need a permit to park there. I’d bet the agency provided one for you in whatever information they gave you. Or you could go the other way, to Chatham, where there’s a beach with a lighthouse. And if I recall, a really nice market in the town.”

  “We’re going to make our plans in the morning. No rush, right?”

  “Nope. Unless the weather changes.”

  “If it rains, we’ll stay inside and play games. Hmm, I’ll have to check if there are any in the house here—don’t summer renters usually have something like that tucked away?”

  “Probably. Or decks of cards.”

  “Oh, good, I can teach Ellie how to play poker,” Abby said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Do you know how to play?”

  “Well enough to teach Ellie, anyway. Anything else I need to know?”

  “I love you. I miss you.”

  “Me too. But you’ll be here in a few days, right?”

  “Promise. G’night, Abby.” And then he was gone.

  Abby changed into a nightgown and brushed her teeth, then peeked into Ellie’s room, where the light was off, before returning to her own room and burrowing into her bed with a book. She gave up trying to read after a few minutes, when her tired brain couldn’t make sense of the sentences, and turned off her own light and lay in the dark, listening. For what? The lapping of wavelets against the bulkhead, the creak o
f the house as small gusts of wind hit it. And a person from the past? What sound would he or she make, if any? She fell asleep quickly and slept through until morning.

  • • •

  When Abby opened her eyes early in the morning, she lay still for a while. From what she could see, the sun was shining, but the light was kind of milky. Should she be worried about a storm that was still a couple of hundred miles away? Weather forecasters had gotten a lot better at their jobs than they used to be—or maybe the technology had improved and was doing all their work for them—so there were seldom major surprises. But storms could be unpredictable, because there were so many factors to consider. She had promised Ned to keep an eye on the weather, and if things looked bad she should be responsible and leave the Cape while she still could. With only two narrow bridges, traffic could be backed up for miles even under good conditions. If everybody panicked and fled, it could be a nightmare.

  On the other hand, people had paid serious money for their rentals on the Cape for a week or two, and they wouldn’t give up easily. On the third hand, out-of-towners might not be familiar with the severity of coastal storms and could underestimate the dangers. If it had been only her, she might choose to wait it out, but now she had Ellie to consider.

  Speaking of whom, Abby heard the creak of a door and the padding of bare feet down the hall to the bathroom. Time to get the day started. She threw back the covers—needed during the cool night—and pulled on some clothes, then went downstairs. Ellie was already in the kitchen, poking around. “Good morning. What are you looking for?”

  “I dunno. Cereal? Bread? It’s weird, not knowing where things are.”

  “Well, I know we bought breakfast stuff yesterday, so it must be here somewhere.”

  Eventually they found what they wanted and carried bowls of cereal into the dining room. Abby made coffee for herself and went back to retrieve a mug. Once they were seated, Abby said, “I talked to Ned last night. Nothing new from your mother, but that doesn’t mean bad news, just that she’s busy. Ned says there’s a storm headed this way, but it will probably miss us. We might get a lot of rain and wind, though. I thought maybe we should check and see if there are any board games or puzzles or something like that in this house, in case we can’t go out.” And maybe more flashlights or oil lamps in case the power went out, Abby added to herself. “And if we don’t find any, we can go into town and look for some. But maybe if the weather is okay today, we should do whatever sightseeing we can, in case the weather gets worse.”

  Ellie, spooning up cereal, seemed unconcerned. “Sure. What is there to see?”

  “Let me connect my computer and we can find out.”

  Abby went quickly upstairs and retrieved her laptop from her tote bag, then brought it down to the dining room and plugged it in. She breathed a sigh of relief when she logged herself in and found an Internet connection, as promised. Much as she hated to admit it, she felt kind of lost when she couldn’t drop in at least once or twice a day. She started with the National Weather Service and scanned their local forecast. As Ned had told her, it looked like the western edge of the storm now moving up the coast would clip southern New England, bringing with it high winds and a lot of rain, but they didn’t seem to be recommending taking extreme measures like evacuation. That was mildly reassuring. She bookmarked the page so she could check later.

  Next she checked the Woods Hole website. From what she read, it appeared that the exhibit center was the main thing to see, and since that was indoors, maybe they should save that for later in the week, in case it rained. Provincetown? The one time she’d been there she’d found it highly entertaining, with a lot of activity on the streets. And there was that saltwater taffy place. It would be an easy trip from where they were staying. Maybe that was the best idea for the day.

  “What’re you looking at?” Ellie asked, coming up beside her.

  “I was thinking Provincetown might be fun. And we could stop along the national seashore on the way there or back. Sound good?”

  “Sure, why not?” Ellie didn’t seem to have any strong opinion, but maybe that was better than pitching a fit if she didn’t get to do exactly what she wanted. Abby wouldn’t label her as placid or uninterested, just reasonable and open to new ideas. She hoped.

  “Are we gonna swim there?”

  “I don’t think so. There are beaches where you can, with lifeguards, but they’re likely to be crowded. If you just want to enjoy the views and the birds, and maybe look for shells, we should stay away from those.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Abby stood up. “Well, then, let’s clean up, and then go see what games and puzzles there are, and then we can take off.”

  “Cool.” Ellie took her cereal bowl to the kitchen and then darted across the hall. Abby did the same, rinsed the bowls, then followed. The living room was kind of broken up into different areas, but there were shelves at the back end. They held the predictable hodgepodge of summer reading left behind by tenants over the years, but the bottom shelves were stacked with what looked like board games. Abby could identify Scrabble from a distance, but she had to check the others. “You have any of these at home?”

  Ellie shook her head. “We don’t play games a lot, because Mom and Dad are too busy, and Petey’s too little.”

  “Good, then they’re all new to you. We might as well get a couple of decks of cards when we’re out, because any that have been left here are probably pretty grubby. So, are we ready to go?”

  “Okay,” Ellie said willingly. “Mommy put a hat in with my stuff—I’ll get it. And my camera. And I guess my backpack, so I can carry them.” She scurried up the stairs. While she waited, Abby surveyed some of the books. At the end of one shelf was an older black binder with a mottled black cover. She pulled it out and opened it carefully—it looked as though it hadn’t been opened for a while. She was surprised to find that it was stuffed with clippings and pictures, not of people but all about the big hurricane of 1938. She’d heard about it, but mainly because of her inland ancestors, who had lived in the path of the storm in the Connecticut River Valley. It hadn’t occurred to her that the same storm would have affected the coastline, but even reading snippets of the headlines in the binder, it was clear that it had been one of the largest storms on record, so it could easily have extended across Massachusetts. She closed it again and carried it into the dining room, laying it on the table next to her computer to look at later.

  Ellie came bounding into the room, clutching the straps of her backpack. “Ready! Let’s go.”

  Once again Abby passed through Falmouth, reminding herself that it was still early in the day and might be more crowded later. Following Route 28 was easy, and it would take her as far as she wanted to go, although it might not be the fastest way. But that was fine; there was no need to hurry. The Chatham Lighthouse was only slightly off the main road, so Abby made a quick detour to it, more so that she could tell Ellie they were at the “elbow” of Cape Cod than because it was a spectacular lighthouse, which it wasn’t. They were early enough to find a parking space, and they admired the view. Ellie took pictures of the lighthouse, although it was impossible to get very close because it belonged to the Navy and they liked their fences. Then they walked down to the beach, which wasn’t yet too crowded, especially if they wandered over to the spit of land on the right end. Sparse picking for shells, though. Maybe if there was a storm, more shells would be washed up?

  They didn’t spend long in Chatham, because Abby wanted to reach Provincetown in time for lunch. They stopped only one more time along the way, at a beach that was not marked for swimming. It lay a substantial distance below the road, which ran along the top of the dunes, and they slid their way down to the beach itself. Abby hoped they weren’t destroying any sensitive bird habitats, but there had been no signs or warnings posted. At the bottom of the dune, the views were lovely, and Ellie started snapping pictures again. Abby took off her shoes and strolled along the sand at the water’s edge
, admiring her own footprints. The only sounds came from the water and the shore birds. This was nice. Why hadn’t she done this before? With or without Ned?

  She turned to watch Ellie, who was still occupied with her camera. Looking at her from this distance, she could see the resemblance to Ned—not just Ellie’s coloring, but her kind of rangy build. She was going to be taller than Leslie in a few years. And Ellie also shared Ned’s focus, taking in details, paying attention to what was around her.

  Ned had to be a part of Ellie’s life. Surely Leslie could see that. Nothing like shared custody, or even public acknowledgment of their relationship, but it was so clear that they were connected. Even without the “seeing” thing. They would have to work out something, even if it took time.

  “Ellie?” she called out, the wind tearing away her words. When Ellie looked back at her, Abby waved her over. “Seen enough?”

  “Yeah. I’m hungry.”

  “You’re definitely a growing girl. Let’s head on, then.”

  Chapter 7

  The drive to Provincetown didn’t take long. They found a parking space on a side street near the end of town and walked toward the center, passing some charming bed-and-breakfasts as well as private homes shoehorned into tiny lots. The town center was as colorful as Abby had remembered, and she and Ellie enjoyed walking along the main street looking at stores and people. They stopped to eat at the Lobster Pot, and Abby pointed out the live lobsters in tanks at the entrance.

  “You really eat those?” Ellie asked incredulously.

  “They’re good! Especially with lots of butter. Hey, I’ll have one and you can taste—it’s going to be different from the ice cream. Maybe you can close your eyes so you don’t see the pincers and the feelers and all that icky stuff.”

  Luckily Ellie recognized that she was teasing. They were seated fairly quickly, and Abby did order a small lobster, while Ellie settled on a hamburger, keeping a wary eye on Abby. When her plate was delivered, Abby tore into the cooked lobster with relish, ripping off the claws and the smaller legs, picking out the meat and drenching each bite liberally in the butter. Ellie looked disgusted but agreed to try one small bite of the tail meat. She chewed thoughtfully, then said, “Would I have to clean them?”