by J A Whiting
“I know.” Viv rubbed her forehead. “I’ll be careful.”
“There’s something else.” Lin folded her arms onto the table.
Viv let out a groan.
“I saw the Wampanoag ghost again, in the garden behind the cultural museum.”
“He came back?” Viv leaned forward.
“He looked at me.” Lin turned her eyes to the tall trees that ringed Viv’s yard. “And his look filled me with sadness.”
The girls sat quietly for a few minutes and then Viv said, “Let’s talk about the case. Let’s be proactive and not just sit here worrying and fretting.”
The corners of Lin’s mouth turned up. She loved how Viv could focus on figuring things out even when worry was about to consume her. Lin ran her index finger over her horseshoe necklace. “That’s a good idea. Let’s talk about suspects. The ghost has only shown himself twice and both times were outside the cultural museum. Do you think that the ghost appears there because the thief is connected in some way to the museum?”
“It could be.” Viv checked the time on her phone to see if the shepherd’s pie needed to come out of the oven. “Then there’s Martha Hillman. There are a lot of reasons to suspect her.”
“What about Nathan Long?”
“Nathan? No.” Viv gave a hard shake of her head. “Impossible. He’s a nice man. He wouldn’t steal the basket.”
“He could be hiding behind the nice-man façade. He’s so wonderful no one would ever think he could have done it. It’s the perfect front.” Lin went on when she saw the skeptical look wash over Viv. “Nathan has access to the rooms at the museum. He can wander wherever he wants to go and no one would think anything of it. I bet he could think of a way to get that basket out there without being noticed.”
Viv narrowed her eyes. “If he could think of a way to get the basket out of the cultural museum, then he might be helping the police figure out how the robber escaped with it. And anyway, why would he do it?”
“The money?” Lin cocked her head.
“What would the money get him that he doesn’t already have? He must be wealthy. He is a respected craftsman, he’s in huge demand to teach and to speak. He must make plenty of money. He has what money can’t buy, the respect and esteem of others. Why would he risk that?”
“Maybe he just wants that antique basket. It’s really one of a kind.” Lin pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and lifted an edge up over her head like a hood. “Like you said, he has everything. He loves the baskets. So maybe he wants the one thing he doesn’t have … the antique basket.”
Viv scrunched up her forehead. She realized that Lin’s idea was plausible. “It makes me sad to think he would do such a thing.” A long sigh slipped from her throat. “Who else is a possible suspect?”
“Mary Frye?” Lin asked.
“Oh! That reminds me.” Viv straightened. “We need to eat. We need to get going. We have the class in less than an hour.”
Lin looked puzzled.
“Mary Frye’s class. We’re going to it. It’s tonight.”
An expression of horror formed on Lin’s face. “Tonight? Can we skip it?”
Viv shook her head. “We’re going.” She stood up to head to the kitchen to get the meal out of the oven. “If you think Mary might be a suspect, then this will give you a chance to question her.”
“Like you said before, I think she wanted to tell us something when we saw her at the exhibition.”
“So while you’re weaving the reeds, you can try and coax her to spill what she knows. If anything.”
“I’m not crafty,” Lin moaned. “I’m going to look like a fool.”
“You might want to modify that statement.” With a grin, Viv stared at her cousin wrapped up tightly in the blanket with only her pale face sticking out from under the fabric. “I think you’ve already achieved the look.”
LIN SAT at the end of the long wooden table struggling with trying to weave the cane reeds the way Mary Frye had told her to interlace them. Viv sat across from her chatting amiably with two other women who were working the strips of cane into intricately woven baskets. After one glance at what the others were doing, Lin made sure not to look at their creations again because it would have caused her to run from the old barn in shame.
“That’s going well.” Mary Frye leaned down to watch Lin moving the cane between her fingers. “You’ve improved already.” The lovely young woman smiled at Lin and sat down next to her to give more pointers and suggestions.
“I’m not very good at this sort of thing.” Lin slid the reed under the first one.
“Nonsense. Anyone can master the weaving.”
“Are you attending college?” Lin wanted to ask questions to divert Mary’s attention from her fumbling fingers and to get a sense of her and what she might know about the robbery of the antique basket.
“I’m working on a master’s degree. I’m studying art history. In the summer, I come back to the island to teach classes and make baskets with my mother. She sells them in her shop in town. And of course, I work in the town museum, too.” Her long dark hair fell forward over her shoulder when she leaned down to help Lin adjust her technique.
“What shop does your mother own?”
“It’s a couple of blocks from the boat docks. Just a small place. It’s called Oak, Ash, and Hickory.”
For a few minutes, Lin chatted with Mary about different things and then asked, “Were you only in the front room of the cultural museum when the basket went missing?”
“I was working in the first room like always. Right where we met the day you came with your cousin to the exhibit.”
“Was the basket on the pedestal when the evening hours began?” Lin knew she’d asked Mary these same questions before, but wanted to see if she would answer them in the same way.
“I don’t know. When I came to work, I entered through the lobby and took my position in the first room.”
“Do all the employees come in the same way?”
“You mean through the front door?”
Lin nodded. “Are any other doors open besides the front? Can employees enter from any other doors?”
“There’s a code on the back door. We can go in through that door as well as through the front, but visitors can only enter through the main entrance.”
“All the employees get the code? That seems like a breach. Can’t you all just enter any time of the day or night? You punch in the code and you can go in?”
“Only during business hours.” Mary pointed to the spot on the small basket where Lin should lace the reed. “At the end of the evening, the curator, or whoever is in charge, disables the door code for the night. It won’t allow access until its reactivated the next morning when someone comes to open up.”
“Is it possible that the curator forgot to disable the code and that’s how the basket was stolen?” Lin looked at Mary.
“But the basket was on the pedestal during the daytime exhibition hours. It was only noticed to be missing when the evening hours started.”
“Couldn’t someone have used the code to come in the back door during the dinner hour when the museum was closed?” Lin wiped her hand on her jeans.
“The code only works during the times when the museum is open. It would have been disabled during the dinner hour when the building is closed to the public.”
“Were the police told about the back door?”
“I’m just a part-time worker. I don’t know what anyone told the police.”
Lin spent a few minutes paying attention to her weaving while her mind raced. Someone could have forgotten to disarm the code. The door was unlocked. Anyone could have gone inside and left with the basket. She paused and shifted slightly on the bench to make eye contact with Mary. “Did you know the person who got let go from the cultural museum?”
Mary sat straighter and her eyes widened. A flicker of something passed over her face and was gone. She seemed surprised that Lin asked the question. “Wh
o?”
“I heard someone got fired. I wondered if you knew the person.”
“I don’t think so.” Mary stood up abruptly. “I’m going to check on the others.”
Watching the young woman out of the corner of her eye, Lin had the distinct impression that Mary was hiding something.
10
Lin and Viv had lunch on John’s boat and then headed a few blocks to a side street tucked off the main section of town.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been to this shop.” Viv smiled. “I can’t wait to go in.”
“Remember why we’re here though.” Lin spotted the small shop tucked between a gift shop and a clothing boutique. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”
The girls entered the tiny, cozy store. Nantucket baskets and trays and purses lined shelves and hung from the low ceiling. The golden wood floor nearly sparkled in the sunlight. An older woman with a long gray braid curling over her shoulder sat hunched at a table in one corner of the place. Lin was surprised that this woman was Mary’s mother. She looked so much older than Lin expected.
Despite the woman’s arthritic knuckles, the fingers of her hands moved skillfully weaving the reeds into an oval basket. Viv watched from across the room as the woman performed her craft.
Without lifting her head, the woman spoke. “You can come closer.”
Viv smiled and moved over to the table.
“Do you work the baskets?” The woman lifted her eyes to Viv for just a second and then returned her attention to her work.
“I do.” Viv watched the woman weave. “I’m always trying to learn.”
“So am I.” A grin lifted the corners of the older woman’s mouth. “There is always something new to discover from the wood.”
Lin walked over and stood next to her cousin.
The woman’s gnarled hands stopped moving the strips of ash and looked up at Lin. She blinked several times. Her eyes seemed to bore into Lin and for a moment, Lin felt like the woman could see right through her.
“Are you sisters?”
Lin wondered what the woman could sense about them. The two cousins didn’t look alike until you got to know them and then, a resemblance might be noted, but it wasn’t really a physical sameness that the girls shared. Lin had long brown hair, was taller then her cousin, and her physique was slim and fit. Viv had chin-length light brown hair with golden highlights. She carried a few extra pounds and was shorter. They both had the same blazing, bright blue eyes though.
Lin shook her head.
“But you’re like sisters, aren’t you?” The woman cocked her head still studying the two young women before her.
Viv smiled. “We’re cousins.”
“What are your names?”
“I’m Vivian Coffin and this is my cousin, Carolin Coffin.”
Lin spoke up. “Everyone calls me Lin.”
“I’m Lacey Frye.” The woman gave a nod that was very much like a slight bow. “What brings you in today?”
“I love the baskets and I’ve never been in here before, even though I’ve lived on the island my whole life.” Viv chatted amiably. “I can’t understand why I never came by. Your place is sort of tucked away, I guess.”
“My hours are often limited.” Lacey gave a sigh and a shrug. “I have some health problems. I don’t have the stamina I once had. But, I love what I do and I need to keep busy.”
“We’re like that, too. We like to be busy.” Viv nodded to her cousin. “We both run businesses.” The conversation went on for a while as Viv told Lacey about the bookstore-café, her band and the gigs they performed, and how Lin worked part-time as a computer programmer and also ran a full-time landscaping business.
Lin eyed Lacey to gauge her interest in Viv’s monologue and was relieved to see that she was enjoying the chat.
Viv went on. “Lin is about to get a new contract to do the landscaping at the cultural museum.”
“Well, maybe.” Lin gave a little shrug. “We’ll see how the proposal is received.”
Lacey gave Lin a look that was hard to decipher. “Who invited you to bid on the job?”
“One of the board members is a client of mine. She asked me if I’d be interested in the work and told me to contact someone about it.”
“Who was the board member who asked if you’d be interested in the job?” Lacey asked.
“Claire Rollins.”
Lacey narrowed her eyes. “Who did she tell you to speak with?”
“Nathan Long.”
“I see.” A strange look flickered over the woman’s face.
“Do you know Mr. Long?” Lin asked.
“I know him.” The words sounded icy and brittle.
“Have you worked with Nathan?” Viv seemed oblivious to the tone in Lacey’s voice. “I took a class with him recently.”
“I worked with Nathan a long time ago. He’s made a quite a name for himself, hasn’t he?”
Lin couldn’t put a finger on the emotion that was emanating from Lacey. Someone might think it was jealousy over Nathan’s successful career and notoriety, but Lin was sure that wasn’t the reason. It seemed to be something else. She concentrated trying to understand the currents that were floating on the air. Was it anger? Regret? Sadness? Lin had almost grasped the feeling when the sensation seemed to break apart and slip away.
Viv’s voice brought Lin out of her focused state. “I’ve been learning to make the baskets for a few years. I don’t have a lot of time to devote to it, but maybe someday.” Viv pulled up a chair to Lacey’s table. “May I sit and watch you work for a little while?”
“That would be very nice.” Lacey picked up a splint of ash and started to weave.
Lin stood by the table. “We met your daughter. Mary.”
“Did you? At the museum?” Lacey bent over her work. “Or at the breakfast shop?”
“At the museum,” Lin replied. “We didn’t know she worked at a breakfast place.”
“Mary works at the shop over on Newcomb Street. She’s as busy as a bee, that girl. It’s nice to have her on-island in the summers. She works with me some evenings and we weave together.”
“We took a class with her last night out at her friend’s place.” Viv leaned forward to watch Lacey as she fiddled with a piece of the wood.
“Mary’s a good teacher.” Lacey nodded.
Lin decided that now would be a good time to bring up the stolen basket. “I was at the cultural museum the night they discovered that the antique basket was missing.”
“Were you?” Lacey slowly raised her face to make eye contact with Lin. “Did you notice anything amiss when you were there?”
“Not really. We’d only just arrived when one of the workers rushed over to the man I was with to tell him the basket was missing.”
“Who were you with?”
“Anton Wilson, a local historian.”
“I know who he is.” Lacey gave a nod. Her expression seemed to imply a favorable impression of Anton. The woman’s brown eyes narrowed. “Who reported the issue to Anton?”
“Martha Hillman.”
A scowl pulled Lacey’s facial muscles down.
“Do you know her?” Lin hoped to get Lacey to say something about Martha.
“I know her,” Lacey said, her voice was tight. “She shouldn’t have that job.”
“No?” Lin cocked her head.
Lacey ignored Lin’s question. “What room were you in when they noticed the missing object?”
“The first exhibition room. Your daughter was in that room as well.”
“What did Martha say to Anton?”
Lin thought that Lacey would make a great detective. “She whispered, so I couldn’t hear what she said, but Anton blurted out a question. Well, it was more like an exclamation about the basket being missing. We hurried into the next room and the pedestal was empty. I suggested that Martha call the police right away.”
Lacey seemed to be pondering the information.
Lin said, “Your daugh
ter told me that the employees use the rear entrance during working hours to enter the museum. It’s a staff entrance, I guess. It seems it might be easy enough for someone to come in that way and make off with the basket. I’m sure the police must think the same thing.”
“Yes.” Lacey’s brow furrowed. “That door should have been locked when such a valuable piece as the basket was present in the museum. They’ll never be able to acquire something like that again. It won’t happen if the sending institution feels security in the museum is lax.”
Viv had been listening to the conversation, but now asked a question. She looked at Lacey. “Why do you think it was stolen? To sell it and get the money?”
Lacey put her materials down and wiped her hand on a small towel. “I’m sure the police think the basket was stolen for the money which has them running down the wrong path and barking up an imaginary tree.”
The door to the shop opened and three women entered and began admiring the baskets on the store shelves.
“You don’t think it was taken to sell it off?” Lin kept her voice soft.
The older woman’s face clouded. “I do not.” When one of the customers asked her a question, Lacey rose from her seat and crossed the space to where the customers stood looking over a large woven tray. “Nice talking with you girls.”
As Lin and Viv left the shop, a cold breeze blew over Lin’s skin and she shuddered. “Wow, the ocean breeze must have changed direction. It’s really cold.”
“You’re cold?” Viv was surprised that her cousin felt cold in the heat of the day. She stopped short and turned to Lin. “I’m not cold. It isn’t cold out.”
“Oh.” Lin took in a breath and then shifted her gaze across the cobblestone street.
On the opposite sidewalk, dressed in eighteenth-century garments, the ghost of Lin’s ancestor, Sebastian Coffin, stood glimmering in the sunlight.
11
“Who is it?” Viv gripped her cousin’s arm. “Where is it?” Even though she couldn’t see ghosts, her head moved from side to side scanning the area.
Lin made eye contact with the ghost of her ancestor. “It’s Sebastian,” she whispered. “He’s standing across the street.”
