Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4)

by Sheila Connolly

  Rebecca smiled. “Hey, I think I’m getting the hang of this! And I’m beginning to see why it’s fun for you.”

  Well, Abby thought, that’s progress. Maybe her mother could help her out with disentangling some of the branches of the family tree—and figuring out which ones had the psychic gene—if things ever went that far.

  “What about looking at Cape Cod property records?” Rebecca said.

  “I was going to, Mom,” Abby replied, “but I haven’t had the time. Ned says they’re online, or at least the bare details. But we only found Olivia here a couple of days ago, and what with other things going on, I didn’t have time to think about what that meant.”

  “Well, there you go. Just look up Olivia Ellinwood and see if she owned property around here.”

  “Of course I will,” Abby said, verging on exasperation. She would have thought of that, if only she had had the time. Try as she might, she couldn’t picture a staid dowager like Olivia sitting on the porch here crying her eyes out if she’d been a guest in the home. Therefore she must have owned this place, before Ned’s friend’s relatives did. Easy to find out, especially since she now had Daniel’s surname. Although maybe not the “why.” Why would Olivia have decided she wanted a house by the sea? And when had she decided?

  But more important, why would she have been crying? It could depend on when she spent time here. The death of one of her parents? Her husband? Her daughter’s lost child and disastrous marriage? So many occasions for tears, but Abby felt strongly that Olivia would have cried in private, not sitting on the porch in a hurricane.

  After that initial surge of enthusiasm, Rebecca’s discoveries tapered off. “I wish I could remember more, Abby,” her mother told her, “but I haven’t thought about these things for a very long time. ‘Live in the now,’ I always say. I sent you all of the documents I had from my side of the family, last year, but I know there wasn’t a lot there. Before you get mad at me, I think Ruth probably pitched a lot of stuff, if there was any. She had no patience with the past. I’ll poke around and see if there’s anything else, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  “I understand, Mom. Don’t beat yourself up—I threw a whole lot at you all at once. Go home and digest it. These people have been gone a long time, and I think they can wait a little longer. Mostly it’s to satisfy my curiosity: I want to know what Olivia was doing here and why she was crying. Maybe we’ll never know, but I haven’t run out of resources yet.”

  When Rebecca went upstairs to repack what little they had unpacked, Abby turned to Ellie. “You’ve been quiet. You have any ideas?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know all that stuff you were talking about, but I think Olivia was sad about something in particular. I don’t know what. I can’t see what she thinks.”

  “I can’t either, sweetie, and that may be impossible anyway. Look, the guys are back!”

  Before her parents left, for a few brief minutes Abby found herself alone with her father. “You haven’t said much, Dad. Everything all right?”

  “Sure is. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m usually quiet. Your mother does enough talking for two people.”

  “That she does. I guess I take after you.”

  “Maybe. Interesting stuff you brought up this trip. Nothing I would have expected.”

  “Tell me about it! I just stumbled into it. It’s been kind of fascinating, but it eats up a lot of my life. I want at least some answers before I get on with things.”

  “You okay for money? Because I can help . . .”

  “No need, Dad. Ned’s got plenty, and he’s happy to support me—he doesn’t spend much of anything on himself. But I’ll get back to work eventually, once I get this other stuff sorted out.”

  “I’m sure you will. Your Ned is a good man, and he looks out for you. I don’t mean just financially.”

  “I know. I’m very lucky.”

  “Ellie going to be a problem for you two?”

  “I hope not! She’s a sweet kid, and I want to help her figure out what this thing is. I know she could just stifle it, but I think it’s gone too far for that, and if we told her to just forget it, she’d resent it in the long run. But she’s smart—probably smarter than most of her class—and that makes fitting in more difficult for her, even without seeing dead people. So I want to be there to help, and certainly Ned does. He didn’t know about any of this either, until this past year.”

  “What about the mother? Is she a problem?”

  “She was upset when I first tried to explain all this to her, but she’s been coming around. Slowly. I think she finally realizes that she can’t just wish it away or ignore it. She’s smart too, so she’ll figure it out. And neither Ned nor I wants to come between them. It was really only a fluke that Ellie happens to be here with us now, for this time.” And saw Olivia. Leslie probably wouldn’t be happy about that.

  Rebecca came bustling down the stairs again. “The suitcases are ready, Marvin, so you can bring them down.” Marvin winked at Abby, then turned to go up the stairs. Rebecca gave Abby a hug. “Thank you so much for inviting us! I know it wasn’t exactly what I expected, but it’s been good. And don’t you dare wait that long again! Or I’ll just show up on your doorstep one day and refuse to budge. If you’ll tell me where that is,” she ended dubiously.

  “Lexington, right near the center of town—and there’s an old cemetery behind the house. Don’t worry, I’ll keep in touch. Let me know if you remember anything else interesting, and I’ll try to put together an outline of what I know and send it to you. Okay? And maybe on another trip I can show you the other places our ancestors seem to hang out.”

  “Great. There you are, Ellie! I hope I’ll be seeing you again, and I really enjoyed talking to you. Take good care of your kitten.”

  “I will. Nice to meet you too.”

  Ned, Abby and Ellie gathered on the back steps to wave Marvin and Rebecca off on their return journey. “That was exhausting,” Abby commented, waving as the car pulled away.

  “Why? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Ned asked.

  “Well, yes, but I thought I’d be able to work up to it gradually. This was kind of a massive infodump, or maybe like ripping the bandage off all at once.”

  “I thought your mother handled it all remarkably well.”

  “That she did. Maybe she has hidden depths. You know, maybe we should think about getting a beach house of our own. There’s something about all the sun and wind and water noises that’s kind of liberating. Or something.”

  “Can we finish fixing up the Lexington house first?” Ned asked plaintively.

  “I guess. Ellie? Where’d you disappear to?”

  “Out on the porch,” Ellie called back. Abby followed the sound of her voice and dropped into the chair next to hers. Kitten was curled up into a ball in Ellie’s lap, asleep again.

  “I’m sorry that took up so much time, since this is your vacation too. We can do something you want tomorrow.”

  “They’re your family, right? You should spend time with them. I like them.”

  “I do too, thank goodness. But we got into a lot of stuff that I hadn’t planned to talk about.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to your mom about all this before now?”

  “I don’t really know, sweetie. For a long time I didn’t know I had this thing, and then I was trying to figure it out. I guess I thought she wouldn’t understand.”

  “But she did,” Ellie said reasonably.

  “Yes, you’re right—she did. I shouldn’t have assumed. I think she was as surprised as I was to find out she could ‘see’ people. Although I think she could use some practice.”

  “I think once you know you can, you start seeing a lot more of them.”

  “I think you’re probably right. So, how about a walk on the beach? We’ve been sitting a lot today.”

  “Okay. Which one?”

  “You don’t want to go to Old Silver Beach?” Abby asked her.

  “It�
��s gonna be busy today, isn’t it? What about that one?” Ellie pointed across the small harbor, which Abby knew was only a part of a larger harbor. “You said there was a beach there.”

  “You’re right, I did. But I think we’ll have to find a road. Ned, you want to come?”

  “Sure. I’ll drive.”

  It didn’t take them long to find a small access road to the spit of land across the harbor. As Ned had told her, there was a portion set off with large signs that said “Private.” And then there was a security guard—a very polite one who strolled over to their car and said, “This is private property, you know. You can’t park here.”

  Abby responded before Ned could say anything. She got out of the car and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. But I just found out that my great-great-grandmother once owned a house right over there”—she pointed across the harbor—“and in fact we’re staying in it, and I wanted to see what it looked like from this side. We’ll only be a minute.”

  The guard looked them over and apparently decided they looked harmless. “All right, but don’t be long.” He walked back to the sign in the road, but turned to watch them.

  “All right, then,” Abby said, relieved. “Ellie, why don’t you take some pictures?”

  “Okay.” Ellie bounced out of the car and pulled out her camera and started shooting across the water. “Can I take your picture, in front of the water?”

  “Sure, why not?” Abby and Ned moved closer together, and Ned put his arm around her shoulders. Ellie smiled at them and started snapping pictures.

  Chapter 17

  Since they couldn’t walk on the beach under the watchful eye of the security guard, they decided to try Old Silver Beach again. They drove back to the main road, where traffic was already picking up heading north—people going back to work. Next weekend, Labor Day, would no doubt be a nightmare, and Abby was glad they had had this slightly less manic time together.

  At the beach Abby and Ned hung back, watching Ellie play in the sand and water. “She’s quite a kid, isn’t she?” Abby said.

  “That she is,” Ned replied. “Not that I can take any credit for it.”

  “Well, she does have your genes.” When Ned started to protest, Abby held up one hand. “I don’t want to get into a discussion of nature versus nurture at this point. Let’s just say that we have reason to believe there is a genetic component to this thing we’ve got. No, that makes it sound like the plague or something. How about, ‘why we see’? But the reality is, we have this . . . something, and yet we still have to go on leading ordinary lives. You and I can handle it—we’re grown-ups. But how do we help Ellie? Will Leslie let us?”

  “Abby, I can’t answer that. This is kind of day to day. But your mother seemed to have accepted it easily enough.”

  “I must say I was happily surprised. I’ve always seen my mother as a pragmatist. In this case she was offered proof—through no effort of her own—so she picked herself up and said, what do we do now? I think she’s kind of intrigued.”

  “Did you tell her not to go trumpeting it to her bridge club?” Ned asked with a smile.

  “She doesn’t play bridge. And I think she got the point. We’re walking a fine line here, all of us, trying to learn more about whatever it is without giving away too much or scaring people. And the rules keep changing.”

  Ellie was now drawing things in the wet sand, with a stick she’d picked up somewhere, and watching the water erase them. She looked up at them, and Abby waved.

  “We should leave tomorrow. That’s what we told Leslie, isn’t it?” Abby said. “That’ll give Ellie a day to decompress before she has to go to school. If George is up for it, that is. Have you heard anything new?”

  “No. I’ll call Leslie tonight and check. Is there anything else you want to accomplish while you’re here?”

  “I’d like to check the property records for the house,” she said. “I don’t have to see the originals in Barnstable—I can always do that later. But I would like to verify that Olivia actually lived here.”

  “What if she only rented?” Ned asked.

  “Maybe there will be something in the society pages, in the newspapers the library has. I’ll save that for the next trip.”

  “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Abby, but where will this end?”

  “You mean all the ancestors, not just Olivia and her family? I don’t know, Ned. It’s still new to me, and I don’t have a lot of answers. Aren’t you curious? After all, you’re the scientist.”

  “Yes, but I have a business to run, and other people depending on me for their jobs. I can’t just take time off and go looking for ancestors.”

  “And I can? I told my mother, this isn’t forever. I want to get back to work. I like to work. But I need to know what’s going on. And I bet you’d like to know how many other people can do this. Don’t you?”

  “Well, yes. Please don’t take this wrong, Abby. I’m happy to pay the bills—I’ve got the means to do it. What I’m more worried about is you obsessing about all this. Look, I saw you after Salem—it really upset you, didn’t it?”

  “It did. But isn’t that important? That the grief or anger or whatever that took over Salem three hundred years ago is still strong today, for those who can see it? I don’t want to go wandering around looking for emotional cheap thrills from my past. But I kind of need to know where the boundaries are. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.” Ned wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Should I be happy that I provide enough cheap thrills for you in the here and now?”

  “Go right ahead.” Abby leaned against him.

  “Hey, enough mushy stuff!” Ellie called out as she approached them, her pockets bulging with shells. “I’m hungry.”

  They drove into Falmouth and found a small place to eat lunch, then picked up a few supplies for dinner. Their last dinner in the house. Fall was looming, and Ellie was headed back to school in a couple of days. Abby still had no specific details for Olivia’s presence, although she knew what she had to look for next. She cast a wistful eye at the town library. Not now, Abby!

  Back at the house, Abby asked Ned, “Do we have to clean the place or anything?”

  “No—the service will do that. Just sit back and enjoy yourself.”

  “Ned, you know I’m not happy just sitting and doing nothing. Even with you.”

  “Then go look up those land records online. I’ll entertain Ellie. But set a time limit, will you? Oh, wait—let me check in with Leslie in case there are any changes in plans.” He headed for the dining room to call, while Abby stowed their few groceries.

  Ellie came into the kitchen with the kitten in her arms. “Is Mom going to let me keep her?”

  “Sweetie, I don’t know. That’s between you and your mom and dad. I hope so, but I can’t promise anything.”

  “Can you write a letter about her?”

  Abby swallowed a laugh. “You mean like a letter of recommendation?”

  Ellie nodded vigorously. “You can say that she’s quiet and doesn’t make messes, and she gets along with people really well.”

  “All true. Let’s see how it goes.”

  Ned returned quickly. “No changes. Ellie, we’ll be taking you home tomorrow afternoon. Your dad’s doing fine, but he’s going to have to take it easy a little longer.”

  “That’s good,” Ellie said quickly. “Abby’s going to write Kitten a letter of . . .”

  “Recommendation,” Abby said, finishing for Ellie. “Saying what a good kitten she is, in case Leslie has a problem with her.”

  “Then I’ll write one too,” Ned added, smiling. “Ellie, you want to play a game? Abby wants to look up something about Olivia on the computer. But she won’t be long. Right, Abby?” He looked directly at her, waiting for an answer.

  “Just a quick check, that’s all. Then I can join your game, okay?”

  “Okay,” Ellie said and went toward the living room, with Ned trailing b
ehind.

  Abby settled in front of her laptop at the dining room table. There was only one question she wanted to answer, although she was pretty sure what the answer would be. Had Olivia owned or lived in this house? Given her age as Abby had most recently seen her, it had to be after the death of her husband, which was in 1916. And she had died in 1940. Those were the limits Abby had to search.

  She found the website for the Barnstable County Registry of Deeds, and the instructions were fairly simple to follow. Just looking was free. Setting up her computer to print the results was a little more complicated, and Abby decided she’d rather see the originals personally—that could wait. She took a deep breath and typed in ELLINWOOD OLIVIA, then added Falmouth to the search, and hit the Search button.

  And there it was. Olivia had purchased the house where Abby sat, in her own name, in October of 1928. Or at least that was when the deed was registered—Olivia could have been settled in a bit earlier. Maybe the summer before. When all the economic world looked rosy, before the Crash and the Depression. How long had she held it? Abby read further down the list that had popped up, and found the answer. Olivia had died in 1940; her daughter had sold the property as quickly as she could, since the deed was recorded before the end of that year. No question of keeping a summer place, not when she was scrabbling to keep a roof over her head and her daughter’s.

  So Olivia was here for the big hurricane, Abby thought. But that was in September of 1938. Why hadn’t she gone back to New Jersey by then? Of course, from what she’d read, that hurricane had fooled a lot of people who should have known better. Maybe Olivia hadn’t realized the risks involved. Or she had had faith in her house, which had in fact weathered the storm intact.

  But why had she been crying? Both she and Ellie had agreed that what they sensed from Olivia was sadness, not fear. And if Olivia had been afraid, she wouldn’t have been sitting on the porch, in the wind and rain. I wish there was a way to know you better, Olivia, Abby thought. Why did you buy this place? Why did you keep it when your daughter needed money? There was no way to find out, no way to talk to Olivia and just ask.