by J A Whiting
The man eyed her with concern. “You okay?”
Lin gave a little nod. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m just feeling a little light-headed.” She pushed herself up. “I’d better go get a snack.”
Lin stumbled into the kitchen and gently set the leather pouch onto the counter. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Not wanting to open the pouch without her cousin with her, she sent Viv a text urging her to come home as soon as she could get away from the bookstore.
Is the pouch a clue to why Greg Hammond wanted this house so badly?
Lin took a glass of orange juice and a muffin outside to the deck with Queenie and Nicky following her. Lin sat at the table and stared across the small backyard to the high white fence that separated Viv’s property from the large house on the next street that Sebastian Coffin and his wife Emily Witchard used to own.
Everything seemed like a messed ball of yarn with the strings wrapped and twisted together. She needed to clear her head if she and Viv were ever going to figure it out.
The metal click of a bicycle chain caused Lin to turn just as Viv parked her bike next to the shed. She dismounted and hurried toward the deck. “What’s wrong? Did the handyman find termites or something? Is my house about to collapse?”
Lin couldn’t help a smile from forming. “It’s nothing like that.”
Viv sank onto one of the deck chairs. “Thank heavens.” Relief passed over her face, but it was quickly replaced with an expression of concern. She narrowed her eyes and her tone was cautious. “Why did you tell me to come home then?”
Lin took a deep breath and spent the next twenty minutes telling her cousin about their ancestors, the hand-drawn interior layout of Viv’s house found in Anton Wilson’s possession with Greg Hammond’s name written at the bottom of it, the living room cupboard with a message scrawled under one of the shelves, and the pouch that was found inside the old cupboard. Each new revelation caused a gasp to slip from Viv’s throat and when Lin was done relaying the latest discoveries, Viv’s cheeks were as red as cherries.
“What does it all mean? I can’t even process all of this.” Viv’s hands gripped the sides of her head. “Why would Anton Wilson have the layout of my house? My name was written on the paper, but he claims not to know who owns the house now? Is he going to break in?” Viv’s face went from red to pale in a single beat. “Was he working with Greg Hammond? Did they have a disagreement? Did Wilson murder Hammond because of my house?”
Lin shrugged and lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “My head is spinning. We need time to go through all the things we know.” She tried to gauge her cousin’s level of distress. “Do you want to see the leather pouch or do you want to wait and see it later?”
Viv swallowed hard. “Can you go get it? All my energy is drained. If I get up, I’ll fall down.”
Lin didn’t doubt the statement. “It’s in the kitchen.” She went inside and as she lifted the item from the counter, her fingers received little jolts of energy. Carrying it outside, she placed the pouch on the table in front of her cousin. Viv’s face softened when she saw it and she reached out and ran her finger over the little treasure.
“From so long ago. Our ancestors held this.”
The two girls just stared at the item for a minute.
Lin said, “It feels like there’s something in the pouch.”
“Open it,” Viv said.
“You should open it.” Lin gave the leather pouch a tiny push with her finger so that it slid closer to Viv. “It was found in your house.”
“But the house belonged to our grandmother and our great, great, great ancestors. The pouch belongs to both of us.” Viv eyed the item. “Anyway, I’m afraid to open it.”
Lin tried to ease Viv’s concern. “It’s probably only some coins or something.”
“It’s the or something part that worries me.” Viv gestured and nodded for Lin to do the honors, so Lin reached for the pouch.
“Okay.” She put her index finger inside the opening at the top and pressed to nudge the material to move along the two tiny drawstrings that had been pulled to keep it closed. She tipped the pouch and a metal skeleton key slid onto the table with a clunk.
The cousins’ eyes widened. Lin lifted the key and the now-familiar jolt of electricity bit at her fingers. She inspected the old metal object and then passed it to Viv who held it gingerly for only a second and then laid it back on the tabletop.
The cousins made eye contact.
“What does it open?” Viv whispered.
“That is a very good question.”
The girls heard soft footsteps approaching from the driveway and turned to see Libby Hartnett walking around the corner of the house. She wore a crisp white blouse and softly flowing caramel colored slacks.
“Libby.” Viv stood up, surprised to see her regular early-morning bookstore-café customer.
“Hello, Viv.” Libby nodded. “Carolin.” She stepped up the stairs of the deck. “Sorry to interrupt. I was about to ring the front doorbell, but I could hear the sounds of a saw inside the house and was afraid no one would hear me if I rang, so I came around back.”
“Would you like to sit down? Have something to drink?” Viv had no idea why Libby would come for a visit. “Is everything okay?”
The older woman remained standing. “I can’t stay. I was walking home from town and passed by your house. I saw Carolin’s truck parked at the curb.” Libby placed a folder on the table. “I noticed this on the grass next to your truck.” She made eye contact with Lin. “I assumed the folder must have fallen from the cab when you got out.”
Lin was horrified to think she’d nearly lost Anton Wilson’s folder of information and she thanked the woman profusely.
For several seconds, Libby’s eyes lingered over the leather pouch on the table and then she said, “I must be on my way. I’ll see you at the bookstore in the morning.” Libby smiled and walked down the steps.
“Thank you again.” Lin called after her.
As she was heading around the corner of the house, Libby looked over her shoulder at Lin with a serious expression. “One must be very careful with sensitive information like that. You don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”
A cold breeze rushed over Lin’s skin and was gone as soon as Libby disappeared around the corner.
15
The overcast morning was a pleasant respite from the week of hot, sunny weather and Lin hoped the cloud cover would remain for the day to keep the temperature a bit cooler. Before heading off to the first gardening job of the day, she drove to Anton Wilson’s house to drop off the family tree papers she’d borrowed in order to show Viv. She conveniently did not return the interior layout drawing of Viv’s house with the other information contained in the folder.
Just as her finger was about to push on the doorbell button, the door flew open causing Lin to let out a little gasp of surprise.
“You’re bright and early. Come in. Have a coffee? Some breakfast?” Wilson had an apron slipped over his head and tied behind his back. The smell of bacon floated on the air and Lin’s stomach growled.
“I don’t have time really. I just wanted to return the folder.”
“Oh, nonsense. A quick coffee and a muffin.” Wilson took the folder from Lin and turned for the kitchen. “Did your cousin enjoy seeing the family trees?”
“She did.” Lin followed the man into the kitchen where he poured her a steaming cup and indicated the sugar bowl and creamer. “We’d like to find out more about our ancestors. Viv would like to meet you someday.”
“That would be very nice.” Wilson set a blueberry muffin on a white plate and placed it in front of Lin. He turned the bacon over on the griddle and poured an egg mixture into the pan set on the stove burner.
“Do you always make a big breakfast?” She bit into the muffin packed with huge berries. Lin wondered if Wilson had noticed that the interior drawing of Viv’s house was missing from the folder.
&
nbsp; Wilson used a fork to swirl the eggs in the pan. “It is the most important meal of the day, you know.”
Lin decided to ask the man some questions. “Did you know the man who was killed down at the docks? Greg Hammond?” Since Greg’s name was written on the paper Lin removed from Wilson’s kitchen table, she wondered how he would reply.
Wilson eyed Lin as he stirred the egg mixture. “I was familiar with him. I don’t believe we’d ever spoken though.”
“What do you think happened?”
“Someone wanted him dead.” Wilson scooped the eggs onto two plates. He placed one in front of Lin who was about to protest, but the man said, “You need your strength. You have a demanding job.”
Lin couldn’t resist the smell so she picked up the fork and dug into the eggs, hoping Wilson hadn’t poisoned them. “Did you know anything about Hammond? Why would someone want him dead?”
Wilson used tongs to remove the bacon onto a plate. His jaw set and he paused with the tongs suspended in the air. “Hammond was an unscrupulous man. He played a dangerous game.”
A shiver ran down Lin’s back. “What sort of game?” She laid the fork across the top of her plate.
“A game he had no business sticking his nose into.” Wilson returned to his task.
Lin’s eyes were wide. “What sort of game,” she asked again, her voice soft.
Wilson seemed to shake himself. “I am engaging in something I find distasteful. Gossip. I really didn’t know the man at all.”
Lin thought that Wilson seemed to know something about Greg Hammond. “You were on the docks the morning Hammond was killed? With Libby Hartnett?”
Wilson slowly raised his eyes and gave Lin a piercing look. “Mrs. Hartnett and I were visiting someone on the docks that morning, yes. Were you there as well?”
“No.” Lin shook her head. “I just heard some people talking about who may have heard something that day.” Her heart was pounding. She stood up from her seat next to the counter. “Did you hear anything when you were near Hammond’s boat?”
Wilson’s eyes were like pools of black ice. “Only the sound of the cool breeze rustling past.”
Lin’s heart thumped. “I’d better get to work.” She sidled around the historian and made her way to the front door. “Thank you for the breakfast.”
* * *
Still unsettled by her interaction with Anton Wilson, Lin pulled up to the home of her first client and saw a large white truck at the curb. Driving around to park in front of it, she saw “Hammond Landscaping and Design Services” written in black letters on the side of the vehicle. Wondering why someone from the landscaping company was at the house, Lin and her dog got out and walked past the truck. Scuba equipment lay tossed in the back bed.
At the rear of the home’s expansive property, Lin saw Bill, the manager she’d met at Hammond’s company who said he hoped to buy Greg’s business. He was standing next to the owner of the house. The two were going over some blueprints that Lin assumed must be plans for the back garden.
Carrying her gardening tool bag, Lin approached and called out a greeting.
Bill recognized her. “Oh, hi.”
The owner said a quick hello to Lin and then excused himself to go into the house.
“You’re doing some work here?” A shiver of unease slid over Lin’s skin when she saw creepy Leonard holding a notebook and a heavy measuring tape emerge from behind some tall ornamental grasses growing along a section of the lawn. He leered at Lin and gave her a crooked grin, before moving away to the other side of the property.
“We’re putting in stonework here for a patio.” Bill moved his arm in the air to indicate the shape. “A fire pit will be there and a pool and hot tub are going in on that side. We’ll be doing the stone pathways and area around the water features.” The man held out the paper with the design so Lin could look it over. He pointed. “There will be decorative lighting in these areas to enhance the evening experience.”
“It’s beautiful.” Lin tilted her head to the side. “How are things going? Have you completed the purchase of the business?”
“Nearly. It’s been pretty straightforward. I’m going ahead and lining up projects now.” Bill rolled up the design sketches. “You’ve been hired to take care of the gardens here?”
Lin nodded. “I bought a small gardening business before I came back to the island. It must be expensive to buy Hammond’s company, what with all that heavy equipment and the inventory.”
Bill chuckled. “I’d say so. I’ve been saving for a long time to have my own business. With Greg’s business up for sale, I decided to make a bid for his company instead of starting my own. Everything’s in place, so it makes the whole thing easier.”
Lin sighed. “Did you know Greg well? Did he have enemies?”
Bill’s eyebrows went up. “Not to my knowledge.”
“I just wonder what happened.” Lin gave a shrug. “You worked closely with him. Did he seem worried about anything? Distracted by something? Did he have financial problems?”
“We were just two guys working together. He didn’t confide in me. He seemed his normal self.” Bill packed the plans away in his briefcase. “Why so much interest?”
“It’s sad, that’s all. He was a fairly young guy. Cut down in his prime.” Lin made eye contact with Bill and he shifted his gaze away. She said, “You never know what can happen, I guess.”
“Guess not.” Bill picked up his briefcase.
“Do you scuba dive?”
The man gave her a strange look. “What? Why?”
“I saw some equipment in the back of your truck. Did you dive with Greg? I heard he liked to dive, that he liked to treasure hunt.”
Bill’s face hardened. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Just from people talking.”
“We went diving a few times. Greg enjoyed it. He went a lot. I didn’t know Greg to hunt for treasure, though.” Bill scoffed. “Someone you’ve been talking to believes in silly stories.” He looked across the yard. “Leonard. You about finished?”
Leonard nodded and headed toward Bill.
Nicky gave a low whine. When Lin turned her head in Leonard’s direction, a wave of chilled air hit her in the face and she saw the ghost standing expressionless at the corner of the patio. Lin had to stifle a yip of surprise and she quickly shifted her eyes away from the spirit.
“I better get to work,” Lin said. “Nice to see you.” She moved to the gardens closest to the house and started to weed and deadhead the flowers. Without looking up, she could feel Leonard’s foul gaze on her back as the two men left the property and headed off to the front of the house to their truck.
After thirty minutes of weeding, Lin stood and stretched her back muscles. A whoosh of cold hit her like the blast of frigid air when a walk-in freezer opens. She slowly turned around to see the eighteenth-century ghost standing about forty feet away from her.
Lin rubbed her hands on her shorts. “You should show up when it’s ninety degrees outside and I’m dying from the heat.” She bit her lower lip worried that using the word “dying” might offend the ghost, but he stood stoically staring at her just as he always did. “The cold breeze I get from you would be great on those hot days.”
Lin pulled on the hose and turned the handle on the water faucet. “Don’t you get uncomfortably warm wearing that jacket and starched shirt?” She pressed the handle on the hose sending a stream of water into the flower bed. “It would be nice not to have to talk to myself when you’re around.” She gave the ghost a quick look. “It would also be helpful if you could tell me what’s on your mind.”
The ghost stood quietly watching Lin work.
She put the hose on the ground. “My cousin Viv says I should ask you questions.” She turned and faced the apparition. “You’re Sebastian Coffin, aren’t you?”
The spirit held Lin’s eyes for a single second before becoming more and more transparent until he was gone.
Lin harrumphed an
d reached for the hose. “I’ll be sure to tell Viv that her idea didn’t work.”
16
After a long day of gardening, Lin went home and showered and then she and Nicky walked to Viv’s house for dinner. Viv was bustling about in the kitchen when Lin walked in through the back door. The little dog greeted Viv and then darted into the living room to find Queenie.
Viv poured seltzer into a glass, garnished it with a slice of lime, and set it in front of the worn out young woman. “You look beat, but at least you’re clean.”
“I stopped home to shower and change first.” Lin yawned. “I thought I’d get used to the hard work by now.” She tipped the cold beverage to her lips and swallowed. “So did you talk to Libby this morning? Did you ask her what she meant the other day when she said that we shouldn’t let things get into the wrong hands? Did you ask what she was doing with Anton Wilson down on the docks the day of the murder?”
Viv looked sheepish. “I couldn’t get the nerve to ask her.”
“Viv.” Lin used a scolding tone.
“There were people all around this morning. I just never got the opportunity to question her without lots of other ears listening in.”
Lin’s forehead creased. “When she talked about the folder, do you think she was warning us not to interfere with something or was she trying to be helpful to us?”
“My first instinct was that she was being helpful.”
“But?”
“But maybe she wasn’t.”
Lin groaned. “What’s Libby’s connection to Anton Wilson?”
“I have no idea. He only rarely comes into the store. I’ve never seen them together.”
“Well, they were together the morning that Hammond was murdered.” Lin let out a long sigh. “And Wilson didn’t seem to like me questioning him about it.” She swirled the seltzer in her glass. “We need to talk to Libby. Do you know where she lives?”
