by J A Whiting
“You know very well how the book must have gotten out there.” Viv had her arms wrapped around herself.
Lin let out a groan. “I know. It’s so annoying having a ghost manipulating things. I don’t like thinking some stupid ghost is in here spying on me.”
“Whoa.” Viv hunched over and took quick glances over her shoulder. “Jeez, don’t make him angry. What if he gets angry?”
“The real question is, why not just come out and tell me what he needs to say. Why all this cloak and dagger nonsense?”
“Oh.” Viv looked faint. She sat down on one of the counter stools. “Don’t say dagger. Hammond was stabbed. Maybe you need to use a more respectful tone when speaking about the ghost.” She swallowed. “Have you seen anyone … ah, floating around in here lately?”
Lin removed the kettle and poured water into the two mugs. “I wish I had. I would give him a piece of my mind.”
“Can ghosts hear what you’re saying?” Viv asked nervously. Her eyes darted around the room.
Lin placed a mug in front of her cousin and sat down next to her. “I have no idea.”
Viv wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “Did you look at the book yet?”
Lin shook her head. Wearily she stood and moved to the side counter where she picked up the Ghost Mysteries of Nantucket and carried it back to the center island.
Viv started flipping through the pages. “Hmm. This seems like silly ghost stories. I didn’t think an historian like Anton Wilson would write about such things.”
Lin leaned over her cousin’s shoulder. “Well, I guess the ghost stuff is sort of weaved in with historical information about the island and the inhabitants. Fairytales, ghost stories, legends, they all lend insight into a culture and what’s important to the people. Readers can believe the ghost stories if they want to or not.”
“You’re right.” Viv slowly turned some pages. “Which chapter was it opened to?”
“Eleven.” Lin sighed. “You look at it. Tell me what it’s about. I’m exhausted.” She rested her arms on the counter. She wanted to place her head on top of her arms and close her eyes for a minute, but she knew she would doze off if she did. While Viv was reading quietly, Lin was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
“This story is about the mansion behind my house.” Viv’s excitement shook Lin from her near-doze.
“What’s it about?” Lin blinked.
“It’s telling about a ghost who lived there. Every day at the same time, a door from a room the family was using as a den would open. Anyone standing nearby would feel an incredible sense of cold. Some members of the family would see a glowing figure in a long dress move out of the room, float along the hallway and head up the stairs. The owners had an alarm system in the house and at that same time every day, the alarm would go off.” Viv continued reading. “The family had to have the alarm disarmed.” She turned to Lin. “That happened in my house. Remember? Every evening at the same time the alarm would go off. I had the electrician come out several times to check it. He could never figure out what the cause was, so I had him disarm it.” Viv’s cheeks were pink with excitement.
“So what does it mean?” Lin stared at her cousin. “The ghost from the house behind yours moved into your house?”
Viv’s mouth hung open. “Is there a ghost in my house?”
“Would a ghost in your house make Greg Hammond want to buy it? There must be a lot of houses on the island that have a ghost in them. Why would this ghost be so important?”
Viv narrowed her eyes and whispered. “Have you ever seen a ghost in my house?”
“No. Never.” Lin shook her head.
“Really? You’re not keeping that information from me because you know I’ll freak out?”
“I haven’t seen anything in there. I swear.” Lin held her hand up as if she were taking an oath. She didn’t want to tell her cousin that sometimes she had the sensation of a presence or some unusual movement in the old Cape. “Who is the ghost supposed to be? Does the book mention a name?”
Viv bent over and scanned the pages silently. A minute passed and then she let out a gasp.
“What? What is it?”
“The people thought the female ghost in their house was a Witchard and the male ghost was her husband, a Coffin. They owned my house and the house behind mine.”
“We don’t know much about the Witchards.” Lin pulled the book closer so they both could see the pages. “Homeowners speculate that the ghosts were Emily Witchard and her husband Sebastian Coffin.” Her eyes went wide. “My ghost must be Sebastian Coffin. Our ancestor. But why? What does he want?” Lin read more about Coffin and Emily Witchard. “The book doesn’t give much information about them.” Lin looked up from the page and blinked. “Anton Wilson. He must know all about the Witchards and Coffins. I’m doing his garden tomorrow.” She turned to her cousin. “He told me that the next time I worked in his yard I should stay and he’d show me my family trees.”
Viv’s voice shook. “Do you think it’s safe to be with Wilson alone? Remember Nate Johnson said he saw Anton Wilson near Greg Hammond’s boat right before the murder took place. What if…?”
Lin’s face took on a serious expression. “When I talk to him, maybe I can find out what he was doing on the docks that morning.”
“You need to keep safe. Listen to your intuition. Leave his house if you feel something is off.”
Lin said, “I’ll be careful.”
“Wait.” Viv looked worried. “Will you be done with Wilson in time to get to my house? You’re supposed to let the workman in to do the repair on the wall near the fireplace.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to be there to let him in.”
Viv leaned closer. She had a twinkle in her eye and a wicked grin on her face. “So enough about ghosts and murder, tell me all about your good-looking carpenter and how he happened to end up having dinner here with you tonight.”
That particular topic took a good hour to discuss and it was well past one in the morning when Viv left for home and Lin stumbled into bed. Before turning out the light, she glared at the alarm clock sitting patiently on the side table right next to the bed.
13
Anton Wilson yanked open his front door and flew outside when he saw Lin’s truck pull up and park at the curb. He crossed the small front lawn and was nearly breathless when he reached Lin’s vehicle.
“I was hoping it was you.” Wilson’s eyes flashed with excitement. “I couldn’t remember if today was gardening day or not.”
Lin lifted her garden bag of tools out of the truck bed and Nicky, eyeing the animated man, stayed close to her leg. She was wary of the historian and had to force a smile. “Last stop of the day.” She’d decided to keep her tools close at hand at all times so that if Wilson threatened her she would be able to fight back. She took a deep breath. When Lin bought the business, she sure didn’t think she might have to defend herself against one of her clients.
Following the winding path set between flowering hydrangea bushes, Wilson led the way along the side of the house to the rear gardens. “You’ll be able to stay after you finish the work?”
Lin nodded. “I have a bit of time. I have to be somewhere in an hour and half though.”
Wilson clapped his bony hands together. “It won’t be enough time, but it’s certainly a start. I’ll go gather the books and folders. Just knock on the kitchen door when you’re ready.” He hustled off into the house.
Watching him go, Lin was surprised by the small man’s energy. Wilson was so thin that it made him seem weak. He looked like he might blow away in a strong wind, but Lin wondered if his wiry build could provide the strength necessary to stab Greg Hammond to death. She shuddered and pushed the thought from her mind.
When she’d finished the gardening, she washed her hands under the hose and splashed cool water on her face. The dog hadn’t budged from her side the entire time she worked. “It’s okay, Nick. We can handle him if we have to,” Lin whis
pered. She picked up a weeding tool and stuffed it in her back pocket just in case she had to defend herself.
As she was heading to the house to knock on the door, Wilson opened it. “Why don’t you come inside?” He held the door wide open. “We can go over the things at the kitchen table.” Wilson gestured to the long, wooden table set in front of the huge brick fireplace. Books and folders and sheets of paper spilled over most of the table’s surface.
Lin admired the beautiful restoration of the space. “It’s a lovely room.”
“I’ve been living here for a long time. Every room of the house has been lovingly restored.”
Wilson pulled out a chair for Lin and the two sat side by side. He reached for a folder and a book. “I’ve done exhaustive research on the Coffin and the Witchard families, among others of course.” He flipped open the folder to display a meticulous family tree. He pointed. “Here you are. You see, as a direct descendant, you go all the way back to two of the first families that founded Nantucket.” Wilson’s finger hopscotched over the paper stopping for a moment on one member of the family before jumping to the next, all the way back to the mid-1600s.
The historian moved his finger to the section indicating the 1700s. “But this is where things become interesting. Here is your ancestor, Sebastian Coffin, a businessman and lawyer. He was also a director of a newly-formed bank. He did quite well for himself until the bank was robbed. Thanks to an enemy he gained over a disputed business deal, suspicion fell on Sebastian. Many people in town turned away from him despite the lack of evidence that he had anything to do with the robbery. He was removed from his directorship at the bank and lived his life shunned by many townsfolk. Years later, the real robbers were found, but it was too late for Sebastian’s reputation. It is a sad tale of how public opinion can ruin a man’s career and life.
“How awful.” Lin’s face clouded. “I wonder why he didn’t leave the island and try to start over somewhere else.”
“That remains a mystery.” Wilson slid the paper closer to Lin. “You see who Sebastian married?”
Lin read the name. “Emily Witchard.”
“You have Witchards and Coffins in your blood.” Wilson’s eyes were bright. “That is a very powerf ….” The man’s voice trailed off and he finished the sentence with a different word. “It’s very interesting.”
Lin was sure he was going to say “powerful” and she wanted to question him about what he meant, but Wilson reached for a book on the table and opened it to show a drawing of the mansion that Sebastian Coffin had built and where he and his wife had made their home until the bank scandal hit.
“I know that house,” Lin said. “It’s right behind where my cousin lives.”
“Which house does your cousin own?”
Lin told him the address. “The backyard of my cousin’s Cape house abuts the property of the mansion that belonged to Sebastian and Emily.”
“Well, I was not aware of who presently owns the Cape house. I don’t know how that fact eluded me.” Wilson’s bushy eyebrows scrunched together. “In any case, when Sebastian was removed from the bank position, his income plummeted. Townspeople wouldn’t do business with him, so he had to sell the lovely mansion he’d lived in for years. The parcel of land the mansion sat on was quite large, so he had it subdivided and had the smaller Cape house built behind his former home. He and Emily moved there and lived in that house until they passed away.” Wilson made eye contact with Lin. “And this I find fascinating. Sebastian was involved in witchcraft.” He watched the young woman’s face for her reaction.
Lin kept her expression emotionless. “Witchcraft?”
“In early Colonial America, belief in the supernatural was widespread. For example, poor farmers often invoked charms for a favorable harvest. Rumor was that Sebastian had premonitions of the future. Have you ever noticed the little brick extension on the chimney of your cousin’s house?”
Lin blinked trying to recall what Wilson was referring to.
“The extension is made of brick and it stands in the shape of an upside-down horseshoe. Such a thing can be seen here and there on the chimney’s of old houses on the island. In fact, the oldest house on Nantucket has one as well. You know the house I mean?”
Lin nodded. She knew the shape from seeing the design on several chimneys, but she didn’t recall that Viv’s house had a chimney with the same design.
“The symbol is supposed to ward off evil and keep witches away.” Wilson leaned nearer to Lin, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “But, Sebastian and Emily Coffin didn’t believe that witches were evil, they believed that powers could be used for good purposes. It is believed that Sebastian and Emily sheltered people who were about to be accused of sorcery, people who ran away from persecution in mainland towns and came to the island seeking safety. The Salem witch trails ended in the late 1600s, but persecution continued in many areas for years after that. When you have the opportunity, take a look at the bricks on your cousin’s chimney. The design on that chimney is slightly askew. Sebastian ordered it to be constructed that way as a symbol to those seeking help and sanctuary.”
Wilson let out a chuckle and the suddenness of it startled Lin. “How ingenious the man was. He used the very symbol meant to ward off witches in order to draw those persecuted individuals to safety.” Wilson shook his head admiringly. “Sebastian was a very clever man. A good man, as well. Before the bank problem, he was considered by the townspeople to be a kind and generous person.”
The alarm on Lin’s phone sounded and she jumped. “Oh. I have to go. I need to be somewhere to meet a handyman.”
Wilson frowned. “There’s so much more to tell. You must stay another time.”
Lin wanted to share the family trees with Viv. “Could I bring the folder to show my cousin? I know she’d love to see the information about our ancestors.”
Wilson looked like he might reply in the negative, so Lin headed him off. “I could return the folder early tomorrow morning.”
“I suppose that would be fine, but please do bring it back tomorrow.” Wilson’s phone buzzed. He reached for it and stood up. “Excuse me. I must take this.”
Lin stood and leaned down to scoop up the papers that were on the table. She stuffed them back into the folder. As she was about to close it, something caught her eye under one of the other papers.
She pushed the documents aside to find a piece of paper showing a hand-drawn interior layout of a house, Viv’s house. A surge of adrenaline rushed threw Lin’s body. She squinted and read what was written in the upper right-hand corner. The address of Viv’s house was written under the words, “Vivian Coffin.” Scrawled at the bottom of the paper was, “Greg Hammond” and the name of his boat. Lin’s heart pounded so hard she thought it would jump from her chest.
She took a quick glance at Wilson before lifting the paper and slipping it into the folder. Wheeling for the kitchen door, she called good-bye to Wilson who was still speaking on the phone.
Wilson claimed he didn’t know who owned the Cape house. Why does Anton Wilson have the interior layout of Viv’s house? And why does he have Greg Hammond’s name and boat information written on that same piece of paper?
With worry and anxiety swirling through her body, Lin jogged to her truck with Nicky at her heels.
14
Lin parked her truck in front of Viv’s house just as the handyman showed up and the two entered the Cape together with Nicky trailing behind them. Queenie sat on the back of the sofa and she gave the man a dirty look. She didn’t care to have her early evening nap interrupted.
When the handyman set down his tool chest and started to work, Lin returned to the front yard so that she could look up at the Cape’s red brick chimney. She couldn’t see any design on the front, so she walked around to the side of the house. There, on the left section of the chimney, was the small upside-down U-shaped design built into the bricks. Lin turned to the street and she could see that the design would be evident to anyone wa
lking along the road who knew to look for it.
“Hello?” The handyman called to Lin from the front door.
Lin’s heart skipped a beat. Now what? She walked inside. “What is it?
The man gestured to the wall with his hammer. “There’s the small cupboard. Someone closed it up. It was boarded up and plastered over.” He pointed to the broken shelves visible next to the fireplace. “The wood rotted and collapsed and that caused the buckling of the wall that the owner noticed. Parts of the shelves gave way.”
Lin wondered why someone would close up the cupboard. Since the handyman was about to pull out the remaining boards of the cupboard, she lifted her phone to take a picture to send to Viv. Lin bent to inspect the broken shelves. She craned her neck to look under the boards. She let out a little gasp of surprise. “There are words written under here.” Faded handwriting showed on the bottom of the old shelf.
Ours To Thee
“Ours to Thee?” Lin said aloud. The words pricked at Lin’s skin like tiny sparks of electricity biting at her.
The handyman put his crowbar on the floor and looked. “Somebody wrote that a heck of a long time ago.”
Lin straightened and looked at the man. “How long ago, do you think?”
“Judging by the look and shape of the letters and by the age of the wood, I’d guess a couple hundred years ago, at least. You’d really need a historian to give you a good estimate.”
Lin leaned close to the long-forgotten cupboard and looked down inside the wall where part of the wood had fallen. “There’s something in here.”
The handyman reached his arm inside past the broken shelves. When he removed his limb, his fingers held a small leather pouch which he placed in Lin’s hand. “This must have been on the shelf when it gave way and slid down inside the wall space.” He smiled. “A gift from the past.”
Cool air enveloped Lin and when the pouch touched her skin, her vision dimmed and the room began to spin. Holding tight to the item from the cupboard, she took shaky steps to the sofa and sank onto it.
