The next day, in Boston, Jane waited in the car while Pierce attended the meeting with the lawyers. She had not expected to sleep well but to her surprise had woken late after a night of deep slumber. After breakfast they set off for Boston, arriving in good time for the meeting. Now all she had to do was wait and think about the next step. When they returned home she would look all over town for the woman she had glimpsed a couple of times and engage her in conversation. Surely she could find a way of testing her, finding out if she was really a person from ninety years ago.
A tap on the window startled her from her thoughts. Pierce motioned to her to lower the glass.
“What is it?” He had been inside less than half an hour. Had they rejected his claim out of hand?
He grinned widely. “They’re eating it up,” he said. “They want to meet you.”
Jane unclipped her seatbelt. “Me? Why?”
“I told them we were engaged to be married. I think they liked the idea that I’m not a playboy and have a serious commitment. I guess they think it makes it more likely that I’ll be responsible.”
“Sounds weird to me. Won’t the DNA be enough to convince them?”
“I guess, but they’ve been with the family for years. It’s more than a business relationship. Let’s humor them.”
“Whatever you want.” Jane searched in her purse for a comb and hastily ran it through her hair. Thank goodness she was wearing long pants and a pretty shirt, although her feet were bare in strappy sandals. She might still be too casual for a high-powered Boston lawyers’ office.
Pierce led her through a hushed entrance hall to an elevator that soared silently to the top floor. As the doors opened a young man in an expensive suit stood ready to greet them. He shook hands with Jane. “I’m happy to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to be present. I’m Jason.” His eyes didn’t even flicker over her sportswear.
Pierce and Jane followed Jason along a paneled hallway. Small offices on the left and right offered glimpses of young people hunched over computers, studying large documents or conferring earnestly. There seemed to be an age limit on this kind of work. Not one of them looked over thirty-five. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The reason for the youth of the worker bees became clear when Jason opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered them into a large corner office. At first glance it seemed that a crowd of senior partners of the firm were present, lined up, with sleek gray hair and sleek gray suits, to introduce themselves and shake her hand. Her heart sank. Surreptitiously she crossed her fingers, praying she wouldn’t blow it for Pierce.
In reality they were only five and the pecking order soon became apparent. The senior partner took the chair at the head of the table, flanked by his four colleagues on his left. Jane and Pierce took the seats opposite the tribunal. It felt a bit like the interview she’d had to go through for her college. What was she thinking? It was an interview.
“Now, we are not going to keep you long,” the senior man began in a mellow voice. “We have been in touch with Mr. Newland, Senior, and know he is quite convinced of the authenticity of the claim. The DNA results confirm the relationship.”
The four suits nodded their agreement.
“So you may be wondering why we want to meet you.” The first man on the chairman’s left spoke up.
Before Jane or Pierce could answer the lawyer next to him continued, “We are an old and prestigious firm and we serve wealthy clients all over the country. We pride ourselves on our integrity and our discretion.” He paused but Jane could think of no comment that would make any sense. Pierce remained silent.
The second man took up the thread. “We also like to deal with clients who are discreet and ethical in their dealings.”
I bet, Jane said to herself. What they mean is any skeletons have to be well and truly buried.
It was the turn of the third man in line. Had they rehearsed this smooth delivery? More likely they had done it many times before. “So any skeletons we should know of are best laid out before us now.” Jane shot him a glance. Had he been reading her mind? The man gazed serenely at them. She’d been in the world of the paranormal too long.
She cleared her throat. “What kind of skeletons are we talking about?”
The last man spoke. “We’d like to know if you’ve been married before, if you have children or any other encumbrances.”
Jane bristled but held on to her cool. “I have never been married. I’m a teacher, a professional educator. And even if I had any I wouldn’t consider children an encumbrance.”
It was back to the man at the head of the table. “Please, Ms. Chartraine, we mean no offense. But much of our business comes from litigation through divorce or separation and the claims of children on the estate. We pass no moral judgments but we need to know what kind of work our firm is likely to be called upon to do. It also has a bearing on the recommendation we would be comfortable in making to Mr. Newland, Senior regarding any rewording of his will. “
Pierce took Jane’s hand, lying on the table. “Neither of us has been married before. Neither of us has children. We are excited to begin our life together with the approval of my cousin Alex. I assure you we will bring no disgrace to the family name, nor will we cause the family undue expenditures for lawsuits of any kind.”
“I’m happy to hear it. Then Ms. Chartraine will not object to the prenuptial agreement we have drawn up.”
Jane sucked in her breath. That’s what this was all about.
Pierce rose to his feet and since he was still holding her hand, she stood alongside him. “We’ll take a copy of the document,” he said. “And if it suits us we’ll sign it. But I tend to think that my fiancée and I will not require any such document.”
Jane squeezed his fingers. Pierce took the papers the lawyer held out to him.
“Read it through,” the man said. “If I told you how many people have vowed to us that they would never need a pre-nup, then spent half their income fighting a messy divorce, you might be more inclined to agree to it. You will inherit a large estate with considerable cash and valuable property, Mr. Newland. Think about it.”
“We will,” Pierce replied, with emphasis on the “we”. “Thank you for your time and your concern.” He released Jane’s hand to shake hands all ‘round then together they left the room.
In the elevator Jane leaned back against the wall. “They might be right, you know.”
“How so?”
“I might be just marrying you for your fortune and as soon as I can I’ll be off with half of it.”
Pierce stepped toward her and took her in his arms. “I’ll make it my life’s work to keep you happy,” he whispered against her neck. “I’ll never give you a reason to want to leave me.”
Jane sighed. “As soon as one obstacle falls there seems to be another. We’ve overcome the identity, your cousin, the lawyers. Now we have to tackle your stepmother.”
Chapter Eighteen
They spent a couple more nights in Boston, where Pierce exclaimed over all the changes in the last ninety-odd years. Finally they made their way home, fighting the tourist crowds along the way.
Jane put the key in the lock of their own front door with a sigh of relief. Inside, she dumped her bag in the hallway and closed the door after Pierce, shutting out the rest of the world.
“Next on our list is to get you a driver’s license,” she said, pushing her damp hair away from her forehead.
“Next on our list is a cold drink and a shower.” Pierce headed for the kitchen. Jane heard the fridge door open and water running.
Pierce brought her a glass brimming with ice and lemon. “Thanks.” She sipped gratefully and walked to the window, stretching out her stiff shoulders.
“Pierce! There she is!”
“Who?”
She instinctively took a quick step back from the window. “The woman,” she whispered, although she had no idea why she lowered her voice. There was no way the woman could hea
r through the glass but Jane’s heart was thumping away like a mad thing and she had to fight the instinct to duck and hide.
The woman stood in front of the small apartment building and appeared to be scanning the windows.
“Look at her! Is it your stepmother?”
Pierce came close behind her. She felt the warmth of his body pressed against hers. He placed a hand on her shoulder, warm, solid and reassuring.
The blonde woman wore a flowing dress in a gauzy apricot material. Her hair was neatly curled and Jane could see the red slash of her lipstick even from the third floor. Oversized dark glasses shielded her eyes.
The sun was strong and the woman stood directly in the light. Her image was burning onto Jane’s eyes. She thought of Selma Thaddeus and her dread of the dark and waited while Pierce peered through the window.
At last Pierce let out a sigh. “I think it could be. Or her double.”
“Let’s talk to her.” She whirled around but Pierce held on to her tight.
“What are you going to say?”
“I have no idea but I’ll think of something. We need to get this settled one way or another.” She shrugged free of his hold and put her glass down on a side table. She pulled down her wrinkled T-shirt and wriggled her toes deeper into her sandals. “What’s her name? You never told me her name.”
“Maria Teresa.”
“Maria Teresa Newland? Polish, right?”
“Yes, but her English was excellent.”
“I remember.” She did recall the sultry voice from the ghostly reenactment of the murder. There had been the faintest trace of an accent. She turned.
“Look,” Pierce followed her out the door. “I don’t think this is—”
Jane wasn’t listening. She had had enough of the wondering and worrying. The woman was on a busy street in full daylight. What could she do?
“Stay here. I don’t want her anywhere near you until we’re sure she won’t harm you.” Without waiting for a reply Jane clattered down the stairs, too impatient to call for the cranky elevator. She burst through the doors of the apartment building just as the woman turned away.
“Wait! Mrs. Newland! Maria!” For a moment Jane thought the stranger would continue walking away but she wheeled to face her. Jane drew in a deep, deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking.
“Yes?”
Jane took a tentative step forward. “It is you? Maria Teresa Newland?”
The woman remained still as a statue. Her porcelain skin and perfect makeup gave her the air of a dressmaker’s model. “Who would like to know?”
There! There it was, that lilt of an accent.
Jane swallowed. “My name is Jane Chartraine. I was in the house when Pierce—” What did one say? Came back from the dead? She let the sentence remain unfinished. If this were Maria she would know what was meant. “You do know Pierce?”
A slow smile curved her ruby lips. “I know Pierce. How is he?”
“He’s well. Thank you.”
This was incredible, standing on the street in full summer talking to a former ghost. Jane forced herself to believe it. After all, it wasn’t any more mystifying than most of the other things that had happened since she’d agreed to spend two nights in the Newland house.
“How did you come back?”
“I copied my stepson. I touched someone.”
“My friend Annice.”
“No.” She smoothed her dress. “It was a young policeman who came around to check the house.”
“You mean Pete Burrard?”
“That’s right.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“Of course. When you bring someone back you’re responsible for them. But he doesn’t really believe I’m a ghost. He thinks I was looking over the house at the same time as he was doing his rounds. He was happy to help me.”
Jane’s mind boggled at the idea of Pete confronting this woman as she rematerialized. Doubtless she was cunning enough to have him satisfy her every whim and believe everything she told him. A few drops of sweat beaded Jane’s forehead and she brushed at them with the tips of her fingers. She had enough worries of her own without bothering to wonder how Maria was managing in the new world.
“Pete has given me almost all I need but there is one thing I need to do.”
“What?” Kill Pierce? Send him back to the world of shadows? He had spoken of being in a deep sleep like a coma. Selma had talked of the darkness. Suddenly Jane was cold.
Maria was watching her closely. “Do not worry. I will not harm him.”
She was a mind reader too?
“Can we go somewhere to talk? I need your help.”
She placed a slender hand on Jane’s arm. Her fingers were cool and Jane suppressed a shiver. She glanced around. It was full daylight, an ordinary street in an ordinary town on an ordinary day. There was nothing to fear. “There’s a park at the end of the street. We can talk there.”
“I know it. You can tell my stepson it is safe to come out now.”
Pierce was already striding down the walkway to reach Jane’s side. He took her hand and pulled her close. “What is it you want, Maria?”
“We can talk in the park.”
Maria turned in a swirl of apricot chiffon and led the way down the street.
Jane and Pierce followed Maria’s tapping heels to the small park on the corner of the street. A young woman was pushing a toddler on one of the swings but the climbing frame was empty. Maria made her way to a bench under a large shade tree. She had never looked back once, confident that her companions would follow. At the bench she turned to face them. “We’ll sit here.”
Jane placed herself as unobtrusively as possible in front of Pierce, holding his fingers behind her back, still laced in hers. If Maria was dangerous she would have to climb over Jane first before she got to Pierce. “We’ll stand.” She felt safer on her feet.
“Just as you wish.” Maria settled herself on the bench like a queen holding court. The dappled light played over her face and hair.
“Tell me what you want.” Pierce took a step forward but Jane held tight to his hand, keeping him out of his stepmother’s reach.
“My, my, such vehemence.” Maria’s red lips sketched a smile that did not reach her eyes. “I see you are as impatient as ever.” She looked at Jane. “He always was such an impetuous boy. Did he tell you about the time—”
“We’re not interested in that. Get on with the reason you’re here.” Pierce moved a small step forward again and Jane hung on to him, feeling the tension through his hand and arm.
“Very well. First I want to say that I’m sorry I poisoned you, Pierce. It was a foolish thing to do. Your father never recovered from your loss and my life was miserable for the next few years.”
“I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“No, of course not. I brought it on myself. I realize that. But I did it for my son. What I didn’t know was that he would die of influenza in such a short time. I died too, and because of my crime we were linked together for eternity.” Her eyes glittered but Jane could not tell if real tears beaded her lashes. “Death is a great equalizer.”
“Enough of the schmaltzy philosophy.” Pierce’s harsh tone cut into the moment of silence. “You have some kind of agenda here and we want to know what it is.”
“Does it involve Pierce?” Jane hoped a few pertinent questions would move things along.
“No, I don’t think I can use Pierce.”
Use?
“I think it is Jane I need.”
“Forget it. You’re not going to involve Jane in any scheme you’ve dreamed up.”
Jane laid her free hand on Pierce’s arm. “Let’s just hear what she wants.”
“Thank you.” Maria’s signature half smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I assure you it’s not dangerous.”
“Go on.”
Jane saw Maria take a deep breath. She smoothed her hair with one hand and her fingers showed a slight
tremor. Beneath the hard façade there was a real emotion.
“I told you I committed my crime for my son.”
Jane nodded. “But he died. We know all that.”
Maria stood. “I want to bring him back.”
Jane stood speechless. Of all the reasons for Maria returning to earth, she had not thought of this one.
Maria stepped closer and Jane pulled Pierce tighter behind her. “Don’t be afraid. I know you have no good reason to trust me but I beg you to believe me. I want to bring my Stanislaus back to life and enjoy a few more years with him. I want to see him grow up and marry and have children.”
“And why exactly should we help you?” Pierce shot back at her. “I must have missed something here.”
“You will help me, or rather Jane will do so, just out of the goodness of her heart. She has a good heart. You, Pierce, know what it is like to be trapped between worlds. Think of my boy, eternally linked to a mother who cannot move fully into the afterlife because of what she did. Think of him waiting out the centuries with no mother, no brothers and sisters, no close family.” Real tears now glittered in her eyes. “I beg you to help me. I swear I will not ask anything else from you. You will never hear from me again once my son is back in my arms.”
Selma had been right when she said you had to find out what a ghost wanted.
“But how could I do that even if I wanted to?” Jane felt Pierce’s hand tighten around her fingers. “He has moved much further on than you or Pierce.”
“No, he hasn’t. I found out later that my boy was a witness to Pierce’s death—”
“Murder!” Pierce interjected.
Maria’s chin lifted. “Murder, I admit it. He was hiding in the room, in one of the big sideboards, so he has been part of the reenactment ever since, even though no one ever saw him. Now both Pierce and I have gone and he’s alone, completely alone. Every night he must hide in that cold, dark room and wait for a murder scene that never happens.” Maria stretched out her hand to clutch Jane’s arm. This time Jane did not flinch. “Please help me. If you do it and I’m reunited with little Stan I’ll leave. I’ll never ask for anything from you.”
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