The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum
Page 50
Ada Bradley gazed up from her computer screen as Olivia’s shadow fell over her screen.
‘Miss West,’ she nodded after a moment, ‘what brings you by today?’
‘Ms Bradley.’
Olivia deliberately plastered a cheery smile on her face. After the damage the previous Chief of Police had done by half convincing everyone she was a deranged murderer it was going to take a while to rebuild her reputation. Of course her reputation had not been stellar to start with, on account of everyone believing her father was a murderer. It turned out that was not true but unfortunately no one knew her mother was still alive and that the charges against her father were false.
‘I was wondering if Jake is in today.’
‘Might be,’ she picked up the phone and held up a finger indicating for Olivia to wait. ‘Carl,’ she spoke briskly, ‘is Jake back there with you or is he out on a call?’
She listened to the muffled reply for a moment, her gazed locked on Olivia’s.
‘Tell him Olivia West is here to see him,’ another muffled response caused her to roll her eyes to the ceiling, ‘that’s what I said.’
She hung up abruptly and turned back to Olivia.
‘He’ll be out in a moment.’
‘Thank you,’ she tugged the collar of her sweater, starting to feel a little clammy in the heat, ‘warm isn’t it.’
Ms. Bradley’s mouth curved at the corner.
‘Heating’s busted we’re waiting on an engineer,’ she indicated the seated area. ‘You can wait over there, enjoy the sauna.’
‘Thanks,’ Olivia smiled taking a seat.
Removing her coat and laying it over her lap while she waited, her mind was inadvertently drawn back to Theo. Maybe she should give him some space; perhaps he was having second thoughts about them. After all they were kind of thrown together in the middle of a massive supernatural crisis. They’d barely known each other a few weeks before they ended up pretty much living together. Everything had been so intense and dangerous it wasn’t surprising they’d ended up in bed together. Okay, so he’d said he loved her but really, how could she believe that? Despite the visions he’d had of her they really didn’t know each other that well. Now that the danger and urgency had faded she wondered how much of his feelings towards her had been colored by the situation they had found themselves in. A slow unwelcome thought began to creep in; what if he wanted to leave but just didn’t know how to tell her? What if he was only staying because she was the only thing in his life that was familiar?
‘Olive!’ a warm welcome voice pulled her from her morose thoughts.
‘Hey Jake,’ her face broke into a genuine smile as she stood. Before she could utter another word she found herself crushed in a bear hug.
‘Missed you,’ he muttered, ‘are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ she wheezed, ‘Jake…need oxygen.’
He released her with a laugh.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t seen you for a while,’ she frowned, ‘I just needed some time to process everything.’
‘And have you?’
‘I’m getting there,’ she shrugged.
‘Is this a social call?’
‘Not exactly,’ she smiled ruefully, ‘I wanted to ask a favor.’
‘Come on,’ he tugged her with him, ‘I’ll get you a really bad cup of coffee and you can tell me about this favor.’
She followed Jake back through the double doors, past the front desk and the ever assessing gaze of Ada Bradley and into a large open plan office, bustling with activity. Edging her way around clusters of desks, she dropped into a seat at Jake’s desk while he disappeared towards the coffee machine.
‘Sorry it’s black,’ he handed her a Styrofoam cup, ‘we’re out of milk again.’
‘No its fine,’ she took a sip and grimaced. ‘I take it back it’s not fine, it’s like tar. How can you drink this poison?’
‘You get used to it after a while,’ he shrugged. ‘I guess I’ve just got a cast iron stomach.
‘You’d need to,’ she slid the offending cup towards the corner of his desk.
‘So what’s up?’
‘I’m looking for any police files, incident reports or any kind of documentation about a girl who drowned in the lake.’
Jake pulled out a notepad and picked up a pen.
‘Name?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘Date?’
‘About a hundred to a hundred and twenty years ago.’
Jake dropped his pen and turned to stare at her.
‘I’m sorry what?’
‘A hundred to a hundred and tw…’
‘Yeah yeah that’s what I thought you said.’ He held up his hand, shoving the pad out of the way and turned to face her more fully. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.’
‘Are you sure you really want to know?’
‘Start talking Olive,’ he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
‘I have a ghost in my house.’
‘Huh?’
‘Jake, this conversation is going to take all day if I have to keep repeating myself.’
‘You have a ghost?’
‘She just showed up out of the blue, a few nights back. Scared the freaking crap out of me, so Theo and I went to see a medium, Fiona Caldwell.’
‘Caldwell,’ his brow furrowed in thought, ‘that crazy British woman over on Fairfield Avenue? The one with all the garden gnomes?’
‘That’s the one,’ she nodded. ‘Anyway I’m trying to figure out who she is, so maybe then I can figure out what she wants.’
‘So tell me what you know.’
‘Young girl about eighteen years old, drowned in the lake, don’t know if it was accidental or not. She was related to me somehow, she’s part of the West family and would have lived and died sometime around the turn of the nineteenth century.’
‘Well I’d like to help you Olive, but back then record keeping was practically non-existent. Most of the cops weren’t even trained. Hell, I don’t even know if we have records that go back that far.’
He watched as the desk clerk passed by on the way to the coffee machine and waved her over.
‘Ms Bradley, I don’t suppose you know how far back our records go do you?’
‘Why?’ she asked suspiciously, eying Olivia.
‘Just trying to solve a little family mystery is all,’ she smiled easily. ‘I’m looking for records that go back to the turn of the nineteenth century.’
Ada pursed her lips thoughtfully.
‘Not sure how far back the records go; the archives used to be kept down in the basement but about ten years back we had that busted pipe, basement got flooded. We lost a lot of paperwork, whatever they managed to salvage was moved up to the third floor. Can’t say what’s actually there and it’s in a hell of a mess.’
‘Thanks Ms Bradley,’ Jake nodded.
She grunted and walked away.
‘Stop giving me the puppy eyes,’ Jake turned back to Olivia, ‘you heard her, it’s a mess.’
‘Jake,’ she smiled.
‘Urgh, fine,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll take a look but I’m not promising anything.’
‘Thank you Jake I really appreciate it.’
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he frowned, ‘I’ll only be able to take a look in my free time and even then it’s probably going to take a while.’
‘Still thanks anyway,’ she stood up and pulled her coat back on. ‘You should come by the house sometime this week, I know Theo would like to see you.’
She kissed his cheek lightly and turned away, pausing when he caught her wrist lightly.
‘What’s wrong Olive?’
‘You mean apart from my psychotic parents and a scary ass ghost loose in my house?’
‘Stop avoiding the question.’
She sighed.
‘I don’t know, Theo is different,’ she shrugged helplessly. ‘He won�
��t talk to me about it, I just figure he might need a guy to talk to.’
‘I’ll stop by,’ he tugged her pony tail affectionately.
‘Thanks Jake.’
‘Stop thanking me, he’s my friend too.’
‘Okay,’ she nodded, ‘I’m gonna head out now. I have some other ideas on how I can track down our mystery girl.’
‘Call me if you find anything out.’
After promising to contact him with any further information Olivia left the station and headed straight for the museum. It was time to catch up with Renata Gershon, the sweet old curator of the museum. The woman was a goldmine of information, she’d made it her life’s work to not only make sure Mercy had a museum to rival the Peabody in Salem but she’d also amassed a comprehensive paper history of Mercy and its residents. There wasn’t much the woman didn’t know.
Olivia opened the door expecting to find quiet and stepped into a frantic whirl of chaos. She watched in fascination at the mad bustle of workmen and staff. Plastic sheeting hung like giant shower curtains across the cordoned off exhibits.
‘I’m sorry we’re temporarily closed for renovations,’ a young woman around Olivia’s age scurried forward.
She was a pretty little thing with glasses and wild curly hair she’d tried to tame back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, although several errant curls had sprung free and now framed her face. She wore sensible heels and a practical skirt. Her sweater was buttoned up over her blouse and she carried a clipboard.
‘I’m afraid we won’t be open to the public again for at least two weeks,’ she spoke again softly.
‘It’s alright Veronica,’ a familiar voice interrupted.
Olivia turned and smiled at the old woman walking towards her, leaning heavily on her cane.
‘Hello Olivia dear.’
‘Renata,’ Olivia wrapped her arms carefully around the small woman, noting how fragile she felt. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘Veronica this is Olivia West,’ she introduced them.
‘The historian?’ Veronica smiled widely offering her hand. ‘I’ve read your work, and I’d love to discuss your theories on the role of women in the New England colonies some time.’
‘Sure,’ Olivia replied shaking her hand lightly.
‘Olivia,’ Renata spoke softly, ‘this is Veronica Mason. She’s the new assistant curator.’
‘You’re not retiring are you?’
‘Heavens no, this place is my life I plan on dying at my desk.’ Renata chuckled as she shuffled over to a nearby chair and eased herself into it carefully as if afraid of jarring her bones. ‘I’m old Olivia, I’m not going to be here forever. I started looking for my replacement five years ago; it took me a long time to find Veronica here and to convince her to move to Mercy.’
‘Boston, judging by the accent,’ Olivia turned to Veronica.
She nodded. ‘Renata is exaggerating though; I didn’t take much convincing. When she offered me the job I nearly bit her hand off.’
‘Well congratulations,’ Olivia replied.
‘Thanks,’ she smiled warmly.
‘So what brings you to my door?’ Renata placed both gnarled hands on the handle of her cane, tapping her fingers curiously.
‘A family mystery.’
‘Ah,’ Renata’s eyes glittered with interest, ‘I do love a mystery particularly when it involves the Wests.’
‘I’m trying to track down a member of my family; she would have lived and died sometime around the turn of the nineteenth century. She died drowning in the lake and she would have been about eighteen years old at the time,’ Olivia explained. ‘I tried online at the office of vital records but they only go back as far as 1921. Anything before that I’d have to go to the state records office. But seeing as you keep such comprehensive local records I thought I’d try you first.’
‘So you should,’ she rapped her cane against the floor in approval, ‘you’ve come to the right place. What you need is the archive room on the second floor.’
She offered her arm and Olivia took hold of her gently and helped her to her feet.
‘Veronica be a dear and go and keep an eye on those workmen, I don’t trust them near the founders’ exhibit.’
‘Of course,’ she nodded.
‘So what’s with all the renovations?’ Olivia asked as she helped Renata towards the elevator.
‘We’re outgrowing ourselves,’ she smiled proudly. ‘The town council have finally figured out how important this place is. Not only for tourism but it’s becoming a hub of research and information.’
‘Renata,’ Olivia smiled as they headed up to the second floor, ‘I’m so pleased for you. What you’ve done here is just amazing.’
‘Well,’ she chuckled, ‘I’m glad to have had a part in preserving so much of Mercy’s history. This place has been my home for such a long time and when my time comes I’ll be glad to have left my mark on it.’
‘You’re not sick are you?’ she frowned.
‘No sweetheart,’ she patted Olivia’s hand reassuringly but her skin felt as dry and thin as paper. ‘I’m just old and beginning to feel it now.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’
Renata shook her head as they stepped from the elevator and wandered down the corridor, the quiet punctuated every now and then by a loud crash or the high pitched whine of a buzz saw.
‘So what exactly are you doing here?’
‘Well the Mayor has given us funding to expand the research rooms so they can be opened to the public. The plan is to open out a couple of the storage rooms and update the fire suppression system. Eventually we’re hoping to be able to expand into the building next door. The lease expires next year and the current tenants are not planning on renewing. We’ve put in a bid and submitted plans for the expansion and we’ve got the town council backing us so I’m hopeful.’
‘Wow,’ Olivia stopped as Renata reached out to open the door in front of them.
‘Right,’ Renata flipped on the light and stepped into the room.
It was a fairly large size room; the walls lined with functional metal shelving each containing dozens of box files. There was a photocopier tucked into the corner and in the centre of the room sat a large conference table and chairs with several computers set up.
‘So we have copies of most of the births, marriages and death certificates for Mercy. You’ll find them all indexed on the computer, we also have copies of the local churches’ baptism records although,’ she smiled, ‘I doubt you’ll find any of your family in the church records.’
‘Probably not,’ she laughed lightly, ‘thanks Renata, I really appreciate this.’
‘No need for thanks. This is what the records are here for. Now once you’ve looked through the indexes, if there are any records or certificates you would like to view or have copies of just write down the reference numbers. I will send Veronica up in a little while to help you.’
‘There’s no need,’ Olivia insisted, ‘I’ll be fine on my own.
‘Some of the records are very fragile and need to be handled by a member of staff,’ she answered matter of factly, ‘besides you should get to know Veronica. She’s about your age and has only just moved here. She barely knows anyone, I’m certain she could use a friend, I’m sure you can appreciate what that feels like.’
‘Ok, send her up,’ Olivia smiled and dropped an affectionate kiss on Renata’s pale cheek.
The old lady nodded in approval and shuffled from the room.
Olivia laid her coat over the back of a nearby chair, sitting down and firing up the nearest computer. By the time Veronica stuck her head around the door an hour later she had a list of three names.
‘Hey Olivia, Renata said you needed some help?’
She looked up from the computer screen and nodded.
‘Yeah, I have three names that fit the time line roughly. I’ll need to look at their death certificates to see if any
of them are the actual girl I’m looking for.’
‘No problem, did you write down the reference numbers?’
She handed Veronica a piece of paper, watching as she disappeared to the back of the room and started scanning the file boxes. She pulled one from the shelf and moved back to the table placing it down carefully. She removed the beautiful large leather bound volumes and Olivia watched curiously as Veronica selected one and began to leaf through the death certificates.
‘Ah here we go,’ Veronica pushed her dainty gold framed glasses back up her nose and began to read, ‘Eleanor Josephine West born 3rd March 1863 and died 20th October 1887 age 24 at Mercy infirmary. The cause of death is listed as complications due to childbirth.’
Curious, Veronica flicked to the next record. ‘Look here, there was also a stillborn female listed.’
Olivia turned back to the computer and searched again.
‘Twins,’ she nodded, ‘I thought so. It seems Eleanor died giving birth to twins, one didn’t survive and the other was named Katherine Margaret West.’
‘She’s the next name on your list,’ Veronica confirmed.
‘Yes, it seems she died young as well.’
‘May I ask a question?’
Sure,’ Olivia shrugged.
‘I can see Eleanor’s father was listed as James Walker and Katherine’s father is listed as Jonathan Douglas.’
‘You want to know why all the West women take their mother’s name not their fathers.’
She nodded curiously.
‘It’s a family peculiarity, for some reason as far back as we can trace my family history, only girls are ever born into the West family.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s almost a single unbroken female line, each generation usually only has one child. Every so often we get twins, but always identical and always girls.’
‘That’s weird,’ Veronica breathed, ‘no boys ever?’
‘Nope.’
‘Well, Eleanor is obviously not the one you’re looking for, she was slightly too old and she didn’t drown. So let’s take a look at Katherine, did you want copies of these records?’
‘Yes please, I’m probably going to be spending the next twenty years trying to sort out my family history. I don’t think anyone’s ever done a comprehensive family tree of the West’s. But they kept everything, my house is full of journals and family papers, it’s going to take forever to sort through it. It’s a wicked mess.’