Ned gave her a long look. Finally he said, “I see. That’s intriguing.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy? Or at least hallucinating?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve seen—or felt—too many odd things in old houses to brush off experiences like yours. Have you ever had an experience like this before?”
Abby shook her head vehemently. “No, never. In fact, people have accused me of having no imagination. I’m usually the practical one in any group—you know, the designated driver, the one with the maps and all. That’s why this is so weird.”
Ned was silent. Abby watched him anxiously and wondered what was going through his mind—like calling in professional help to take her away. She was relieved when he finally spoke.
“Miss, uh—you know, I don’t even know your name?”
“Oh, right. Abigail Kimball—mostly Abby.”
“I’m Edward Newhall, mostly Ned. Well, Abby, you’ve certainly come up with a pretty puzzle.”
“Why? What do you think that … experience was?”
“At a guess, I’d say you stumbled on a past scene that somehow got stuck here. No, that doesn’t make sense. You had a vision of something from the past? Or you have an extremely overactive imagination that filled the room with people, like it was a play. Are you sure you’ve never been here before?”
“Never. I’ve never even been in this state before, or at least not since I was a kid, and then it was just passing through on the way to somewhere else. I’ve only been here a few weeks, and I’ve been so busy getting settled that I haven’t seen much of the neighborhood, much less Boston.”
“What brought you here, if you don’t mind telling me?”
“I came with my boyfriend. He got a job offer, and in a couple of weeks, here we were.” Was it her imagination, or did Ned look a little disappointed when she mentioned the “boyfriend”?
If he had, he recovered quickly. “Well, Abby, do you want to explore this phenomenon a bit further, maybe find out who you were seeing, or would you rather just go home and try to forget the whole thing?”
Abby thought for a moment, teetering in indecision. And then it seemed as though she heard her own voice: No, I’m not just going to forget about this. I want to know what happened, and why. “If I wanted to learn more, what would I do?”
He smiled. “Well, first of all, you could go to the library in town here, find out as much as you could about this place, and about the family. You should talk to Jane Bennett. She runs the local history section, and she’s very good. And there are a lot of local records—microfilms, city directories, that kind of thing. Unfortunately only a portion of it is online, but the library’s a nice place to spend time. There might even be pictures of the people who lived here—maybe you’d recognize someone.”
Abby shivered. “And if I found pictures and they really were the people from my dream? What then?”
“Well, at least you’d know something, that what you saw was real. Look, why not stop in at the library and see what you can find—if you have the time, that is. Do you have a job yet?”
Interesting that Ned assumed she’d be looking for a job. Well, she did plan to, once she and Brad were settled. Their current apartment was merely a stopgap until they could find a house—or one they could afford. “No, I’ve got the time right now.”
Ned looked pleased. “Then maybe we could get together over the weekend and compare notes? If you’re not busy.”
Abby thought about her own total lack of plans. No, she was not busy. Brad had already declared he would be gone, playing golf with his buddies. “Sure. Where?”
“How about we meet at the library, on Saturday at ten?”
“All right. Oh, I should get your number, in case something comes up.” Like Brad’s foursome was canceled.
He pulled out a wallet and extricated two cards. “Write your name and number on the one—you can keep the other one. I’ll put my home number on the back.” He scribbled on the back of one, then handed the two to her. She wrote her number on the back and handed it to him, and he carefully stowed it in his wallet.
Abby stood up and looked around. No strange figures lurking in the sunny corners, at least in this room, which caught the light of the setting sun through the big front windows. She didn’t want to go back to the dining room and see if there was anyone there. Brad would be wanting his dinner. What was she going to tell him about this little misadventure?
“I really should be going now. But I will go to the library, I promise.”
Ned stood as well. “So I’ll see you Saturday. And you can tell me then if you’ve seen anybody else during the week.”
“Like a ghost, you mean? I hope not. Saturday, then.”
He saw her to the door. I didn’t ask him if there was somebody waiting for him at home. She didn’t remember a wedding ring. But it didn’t matter: this wasn’t a date, this was a history consultation. And she had something to do now—a trip to the library to do research, and then the meeting with Ned on Saturday. Things were looking up.
Books by Sheila Connolly
“The Rising of the Moon”
Once She Knew
Relatively Dead
Reunion with Death
Orchard Mysteries
One Bad Apple
Rotten to the Core
Red Delicious Death
A Killer Crop
Bitter Harvest
Sour Apples
“Called Home”
Golden Malicious
Museum Mysteries
Fundraising the Dead
Let’s Play Dead
Fire Engine Dead
“Dead Letters”
Monument to the Dead
County Cork Mysteries
Buried in a Bog
Scandal in Skibbereen
Writing as Sarah Atwell
Glassblowing Mysteries
Through a Glass, Deadly
Pane of Death
Snake in the Glass
All of Sheila Connolly’s books
are available now at Amazon!
About the Author
After collecting too many degrees and exploring careers ranging from art historian to investment banker to professional genealogist, Sheila Connolly began writing mysteries in 2001 and is now a full-time writer.
She wrote her first mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime under the name Sarah Atwell, and the first book, Through a Glass, Deadly (2008), was nominated for an Agatha Award for Best First Novel; Pane of Death followed in 2008, and Snake in the Glass in 2009.
Under her own name, her Orchard Mystery Series (Berkley Prime Crime) debuted in 2008 with One Bad Apple, followed by Rotten to the Core in 2009, Red Delicious Death in 2010, A Killer Crop later in 2010, Bitter Harvest in 2011, Sour Apples in 2012, and Golden Malicious in 2013.
Her Museum Mysteries (Berkley Prime Crime), set in the Philadelphia museum community, opened with Fundraising the Dead in 2010, followed by Let’s Play Dead in 2011, Fire Engine Dead in 2012, and Monument to the Dead in 2013.
Her new series, the County Cork Mysteries (Berkley Prime Crime), debuted in 2013 with Buried in a Bog. The second book in the series, Scandal in Skibbereen, will be released in 2014.
Her first short story, “Size Matters,” was published by Level Best Books in 2011, and was nominated for an Agatha Award.
Sheila is a member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and Romance Writers of America. She is a former President of Sisters in Crime New England, and was cochair for the 2011 New England Crime Bake conference.
Contents
Cover
Reunion with Death
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from Golden Malicious
Excerpt from Relatively Dead
Books by Sheila Connolly
About the Author
Sheila Connolly - Reunion with Death Page 26
