by J A Whiting
Lin didn’t answer. She was watching the shimmering particles that made up her long-ago relatives spin faster and faster until they sparked and flared, and disappeared into the dusk.
10
As soon as Viv came into the cottage, Lin rushed to her cousin’s side, with the dog at her heels, with such urgency that Viv thought something must be terribly wrong. “What’s happened?”
Nearly breathless, Lin said, “I saw Sebastian and Emily outside of the Snows’ house.”
Viv searched the young woman’s face. “And?”
“And I heard words in my head.”
Viv set the custard pie on the kitchen counter with a look of confusion on her face. “Words? In your head? You mean you were thinking?”
“No. It was a message. From Sebastian and Emily to me.” Lin’s eyes were wide with excitement. “They sent me a message and I heard it in my head.”
Viv sank onto one of the stools next to the counter. “They didn’t speak? They sent you a mental message?”
“No,” Lin said. “Yes.”
“What? Which is it? Yes or no?” Viv asked, confused by her cousin’s responses.
“No, they didn’t speak,” Lin said slowly. “Yes, they sent me a message.”
“So it was like mental telepathy? Their thoughts transferred from their minds to yours?”
Nicky let out a woof.
“Yes. That’s it exactly.” Lin was practically jumping out of her skin. “It was as clear as the words I hear you saying to me right now. But it came to me without Sebastian or Emily speaking anything. The words were in my head. The words of their message got transferred into my mind.”
Viv stared for a few moments, and then she said, “This is big. This is a real breakthrough in your ghostly skills.”
“Yes.” Lin pumped her fist in the air and high-fived her cousin.
Placing her hand on her chest, Viv took in a long breath. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad I missed it. And thankfully, it didn’t happen to me. I would have fainted dead away.”
Lin chuckled at Viv’s response. “I almost fainted myself. At first, it seemed normal, but then I realized what had happened and my heart started to race. I couldn’t believe it. There it was, right in my head, like they’d whispered the words directly into my ear.”
Viv slowly shook her head back and forth before her eyes widened and she sat up straight. “Oh, wait. What was the message? What were their words to you?”
Lin’s expression suddenly lost its look of excitement. “Listen for the click.”
Viv blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sinking onto the stool next to her cousin, Lin said, “I have no idea.”
“Listen for the click? I don’t like the sound of it,” Viv said, her voice trembling a little. “What else did they say to you?”
“That was it. That was the whole message.”
Viv’s right eyebrow raised. “That’s all? Only four words?”
“Well, it’s a beginning,” Lin said with a touch of defensiveness.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s incredible that you were able to receive the message. It’s amazing progress with your abilities. What I meant was couldn’t the ghosts have given you more to go on? Why is it always a guessing game? Why does it always involve analysis and evaluation and interpretation? Sheesh. You need more information than this. Can’t they say something more helpful like on Tuesday, watch out for the tall guy with the red hair? Or Joe Shmoe is the killer. Now that would be helpful.” When she’d finished her rant, Viv suddenly paled and checked over her shoulders looking for any ghosts who might have taken offense from her criticisms. Shrinking in her seat, she added apologetically, “Of course, we appreciate the message. Any kind of clues or information is a big help.”
“Don’t worry,” Lin said. “There aren’t any ghosts lurking around in here.”
Viv leaned closer and whispered, “Are you sure? I don’t want any ghosts angry with me.”
“You’re safe. No one heard you.” Lin shifted her eyes around the kitchen just to be sure. “At least, I don’t think anyone heard you.”
Viv groaned.
“I was so excited about receiving the message, I didn’t think about what it might mean.” Lin stood up to check the contents of the slow-cooker, and when she lifted the lid, the delicious odor of veggie chili floated around the room. “What do you think it means?”
“Listen for the click?” Viv repeated the words Lin had told her. “That’s exactly what they told you?”
Lin nodded as she removed bowls from the cabinet and set them next to the cooker.
“Like I said, I don’t like the sound of it.” Viv stood up to get silverware and napkins from the drawer.
Lin gave her cousin a look of apprehension. “What do you think the message means? Listen for the click. Could that mean the click of a doorknob turning?”
“Or the click of a bomb about to go off?” Viv suggested with a shudder.
Lin’s eyes widened and she had to swallow before speaking. “A bomb?”
“Well, I don’t think Sebastian and Emily would show up on a snowy, late afternoon to give you some minor thing to look out for.”
Lin spooned the rice into a serving bowl and placed it on the kitchen table, her mind racing over what the message from the ghosts could mean. “Does a gun click when someone takes the safety off?”
“I don’t know.” A frown formed over Viv’s mouth. “What about the clicking of a clock? I have one on the wall in my basement near the treadmill and every time the second hand moves, it makes a clicking sound.”
“That’s a good idea.” Lin ladled the chili into a glass bowl.
“How about a knife?” Viv asked. “Does it click when someone flicks a switchblade?”
Lin let out a sigh and tried to joke. “None of these ideas are very comforting.”
Viv joined her cousin at the table and they filled their plates with the rice and chili and the baked rolls. “You need to be on-guard. Pay attention to who is around you. Listen for sounds. Be alert. Be suspicious of everyone. Be ready to run.”
“Or be ready to fight back?” Lin asked.
Nicky looked up at his owner and whined.
“Do me a favor,” Viv said, passing the basket of rolls to Lin. “Be sure you hear this click thing when I’m not around. You can tell me about it later.”
“Thank you for your help and support,” Lin deadpanned.
“You know I’m kidding. In fact, Queenie and I can come live here with you until this thing is solved.” Viv sprinkled grated cheese over her chili. “The cat and dog hear everything. They can alert us to any clicking sounds that are made … and then we’ll pounce on whoever or whatever is after you and take him down. What do you think?”
“I think I’m going to make sure I have a canister of pepper spray with me at all times.” Lin took a bite of the buttered roll as a wave of low-level worry settled over her.
“You just let me know if you want me to move in for a while,” Viv said.
Lin thanked her cousin. “So let’s recap. Things that could make a clicking noise might be … a doorknob turning, a clock, maybe a gun, a switchblade.” She gave Viv a look. “And a bomb.”
“Right.” Viv dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “And when you hear the clicking sound, you probably won’t have much time to react so you’re going to need to move fast.”
Lin’s heart sank. “You mean run?”
“I mean run, strike out at the person, scream, kick, or wrestle the evil-doer to the ground.” Viv nodded.
“We don’t even know what the evil-doer’s motivation is,” Lin said. “I don’t know what Captain Baker’s ghost wants from me.”
Viv poked the air with her fork. “Whatever he wants from you, it’s going to have something to do with a clicking noise.”
“That’s not much to go on.”
“It’s more than you had before Sebastian and Emily had a chat with you,” Viv said.
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“I wouldn’t call what went on between us a chat. I heard a phrase. In my head.”
“I think what you heard was a sentence, not a phrase,” Viv corrected.
“Whatever.” Lin rubbed at the back of her neck. “Maybe Sebastian and Emily will return and give me more information. Leonard was at the end of the driveway near the sidewalk. Maybe he frightened the ghosts. Maybe when he called to me, he prevented the rest of the message from reaching me.”
“That’s possible,” Viv said. “But in the meantime, you need to take a defensive stance. Don’t disregard anything. Pay attention to any noises you hear.”
“I will.” Lin wasn’t so sure a clicking noise would attract her attention and she worried she would miss the warning.
Viv put her fork down. “Two hundred years ago, there was a robbery at the Tangerine Street house. Captain Baker and his son were killed by a robber.”
“That’s right.” Lin wondered where Viv was going with the comments. “And the owner at the time was also killed.”
“Do you know the name of the robber?”
Lin shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“Do you know what the robber stole?” Viv questioned.
“I don’t know that either.”
“Was the robber caught or did he get away?”
Lin shrugged.
“Could the long-ago murders of Captain Baker and his son have something to do with whatever he wants from you now?” Viv asked.
“I guess it’s possible.” With a shiver of anxiety rolling down her back, Lin looked off across the kitchen, thinking. “But what in the world could the connection be?”
11
Roy Snow’s gallery down by the docks consisted of three, large, well-lit open rooms with wood floors and pale gray walls that showcased a mix of modern and traditional work from both local and international artists. In his late thirties, Roy was tall and slim with light-brown hair and brown eyes, and like his father, Robert, a friendly, welcoming smile.
“I can’t believe I’ve never stopped in here.” Lin admired the beautiful space.
“We only took over a couple of months ago.” Roy walked around the rooms with Lin pointing out the different paintings. “I was an art teacher for years while working on my own art. I’ve always wanted to own a gallery. My wife and parents encouraged me to make my wish a reality.”
Roy opened a door at the back of the gallery to show Lin a large bright room with several easels, long work tables, and shelves of paints, brushes, pencils, pastels, scissors, and paper. “I teach art classes. All ages. They’re proving to be so popular that I’ve had to hire another teacher.”
Lin congratulated the man. “It isn’t easy to leave a secure, stable job and make a change. I’m really glad it’s working out.”
“I’m lucky,” Roy admitted. “My wife is a physical therapist who works at the hospital and gets great benefits and my parents have been very generous helping me set up the business.”
“You didn’t want to join your father’s gallery as a partner?” Lin asked.
“We talked about it, but Dad pointed out a number of things. His gallery is small and there isn’t any way to expand the space. He also thinks it’s better to have a separation between personal and work spaces. And he told me I’d get a lot more foot traffic down here by the docks than he gets from the corner of Tangerine Street.”
“That all makes sense,” Lin agreed. “Your father gave you smart business advice.”
“He and my mom are great people. Family is the most important thing to them. They’ve helped us more than we could ever have hoped.” Roy made coffee at a small kitchenette set up in the corner of the teaching space and leaving the door open to the gallery so he could hear any customers who came in. He and Lin took seats at a round table by the window.
Lin tried to think of a way to ease into the discussion, but she couldn’t come up with anything other than being direct about what she wanted to ask. “Your parents talked to me the other day about the ghost that lives in the house.”
Roy smiled. “Dad mentioned it to me. He thinks you have a sixth sense or something about ghosts. He was happy to talk with you about the resident spirit.”
“Have you experienced the ghost in the house?” Lin asked.
“I’ve seen things moved around. I’ve been in the room when the door latch lifts and opens. Sometimes, I feel like I’m not alone in the room. I’ve never seen the ghost.” Roy sighed. “There are times when I think the happenings in the house are only my imagination. Maybe atmospheric pressure changes cause the latch to loosen, maybe I or someone else moved an object and forgot we did it. My parents’ beliefs about the spirit may influence me into believing certain things happen because of the ghost when, on my own, I would probably dismiss the idea of a spirit living in the house.”
“So you’re not a strong believer?” Lin asked.
“I guess I find it mildly interesting, but I also think there could be good rational reasons for what happens.”
“What about your wife?” Lin questioned.
“Suzanne is happy to go along with what my parents think. She thinks ghosts are a possibility.”
“Did you sense the ghost more when you were a child?” Lin asked.
“Not really.” Roy shrugged. “I wasn’t that interested in it. My parents talked about a ghost in the house and to me, it was like talking about a part of the structure, like the ceiling or the bookcases or the floors. I suppose I took it for granted that we had a presence living in the house with us. There are lots of houses and buildings on the island that are supposed to have ghosts living in them. I think a number of the residents of Nantucket are more open to such ideas than people who live in other places. It’s more accepted here.” Roy chuckled. “Although, there are plenty of people who live here who think it’s all nonsense.”
“I think you’re right that there are lots of Nantucketers who don’t dismiss the idea of ghosts.” Lin gave a nod. “Have you ever felt protected by the spirit?”
Roy thought about the question for a few moments. “I recall times when I was afraid of a noise or I’d wake up from a nightmare … and I’d feel a sense of calm come over me … a feeling that I was cared for, that I was safe. Huh. I never really attributed the feeling to the ghost watching out for me.”
“What about your son? Does he ever talk about the ghost?”
“He does. Chase is like my parents. The three of them sense the ghost’s presence more than I do. Maybe they’re more sensitive to paranormal things than I am.”
“What does Chase say about the ghost?”
“He speaks in general, nonchalant terms. The ghost is part of the house, it’s part of Chase’s life in the house. When he was little he would say more about it. He’d make comments that the ghost was in the room or the ghost moved the book to another shelf. Things like that. It’s part of his life.”
“Was Chase ever afraid of the ghost?” Lin asked,
“Never. I think Chase thinks of the ghost as part of the family.”
Lin leaned forward slightly. “Can Chase see Captain Baker?”
“No. No one has ever seen the ghost,” Roy said. “At least no one we know has ever seen him.”
“Do you think the ghost is definitely Captain Samuel Baker?”
Roy smiled again. “My parents have always believed the ghost of Captain Baker lives in the house with us. I don’t have any reasons to think otherwise, but there isn’t any way to prove that the spirit really is Baker.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, Roy had to return to work so Lin thanked him for meeting with her and she headed out into the cold and made her way to Main Street. The town looked beautiful with the festive decorations, the white snow, and the shimmering lights sparkling on the brick sidewalks and the cobblestone lanes.
Passing Tangerine Street on her way to her cottage at the edge of town, Lin saw Robert Snow waving at her from the walk in front of his house and she detoured from her strol
l home to stop and speak with him.
When I got the mail from the box, one of the envelopes flew out of my hand and blew out here to the sidewalk.” Robert showed Lin the letter that had tried to make an escape.
“I was just with Roy,” Lin said. “He showed me his gallery. It’s terrific.”
“He’s done a beautiful job with the space. I think it’s going to be a successful venture for him.” Robert wore only a cardigan sweater and he shivered slightly. “Come inside where it’s warm.”
When Lin went into the gallery with the man, her eyes were immediately drawn to Captain Baker’s painting.
“How did you come to have the captain’s painting?” Lin asked.
Robert placed the mail on his desk and turned to the young woman. “It was here in the house when we bought it. There is a stipulation that the painting must remain in the house. It is to be considered part of the mansion and not as separate property.”
“So whenever the house is sold, the painting has to go with it?”
“Yes, but really, I don’t believe there’s any legal requirement to honor the stipulation,” Robert said. “However, all of the owners have followed the request and have passed the painting along to the new buyers each time the house has been sold.”
“Who was the owner who wrote the condition?” Lin asked.
“That’s a very good question.” Robert’s eyebrow went up. “I don’t know the answer to that. We never thought to ask about it.”
“Why would someone start such a requirement?” Lin asked. “Why would someone want the painting to remain with the house?”
Robert glanced over to the painting hanging on the wall. “Maybe Captain Baker doesn’t want to be separated from the mansion.”
“Do you know that Captain Baker was killed here?” Lin questioned.
With a sigh, Robert said, “Yes. We know. I don’t like to bring it up with people. I’m afraid it will scare off the customers. I’m sorry. I should have talked with you about it.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Lin turned her eyes to the portrait and when she did, a shiver of unease moved over her skin. “Is the painting valuable?”
