by J A Whiting
“And then, when we found the wallet and necklace under the mattress,” Angie said, “A whole new worry was born.”
“A possible new ghost.” Mr. Finch nodded. “Or the possibility that Katrina is upset about something.”
Tears showed at the corners of Jenna’s eyes and she brushed at them. “Is she angry that I’m marrying Tom? Tom has been in the house as much as I have. Katrina knows him. She knows our plans.”
“Or….” Courtney narrowed her eyes. “Is she warning you about something?”
Everyone’s eyes shifted to Courtney, but no one said anything for several moments until Jenna let out a groan. “Why can’t anything be simple? Why can’t things be normal?”
Courtney chuckled as she placed a different flavored cookie on Jenna’s plate. “If you want normal, Sis, then you’re in the wrong family.”
“No worries, Miss Jenna. We will help you figure it out.” Mr. Finch smiled. “You are surrounded by love, and you are never alone, in good times or in bad.”
“In sickness or in health,” Courtney added with a grin.
The corners of Angie’s mouth turned up. “For better or for worse.”
Mr. Finch joined in with part of the familiar wedding vows. “For richer or for poorer.”
Finch, Courtney, and Angie finished in unison. “For as long as we all shall live.”
The cats trilled their approval as Jenna’s giggles filled the air. “Is this the part when I say ‘I do?’”
“Nope,” Courtney told her. “You don’t have a choice. You’re stuck with all of us.”
Jenna lifted the macaron from her plate. “I guess it could be worse.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Finch agreed, just as the front doorbell rang.
Holding the cookie, Jenna’s hand froze in mid-air as Circe sat up at attention and Euclid let out a low growl. At the sound of the doorbell, a feeling of apprehension gripped Angie’s stomach. Courtney made eye contact with her older sister and then with Finch. For a quick moment, a disturbing something floated by on the air … and they all felt it.
“Where is Miss Ellie?” Finch asked.
Courtney pulled her apron over her head and set it on one of the stools. “She’s up in her room working on the wedding dress.” Ellie, the second-born Roseland sister after the twins, ran a bed and breakfast out of the Victorian. She was an excellent seamstress and had eagerly volunteered to make Jenna’s wedding gown.
“Perhaps we have a new B and B guest.” Finch kept his voice even.
“I’ll go.” Courtney started out of the kitchen.
Angie forced a smile. “I’ll go with you.”
Euclid and Circe launched themselves from their perch on top of the refrigerator and rushed into the hall ahead of the sisters.
Some of the words of the wedding vows rang in Angie’s head and caused her heart to race.
For better or for worse.
3
When Courtney opened the front door, the tension in Angie’s stomach started to wane.
“Hi. Do you have a room for the night?” A petite, young woman whose strawberry-blonde hair fell just below her shoulders entered the foyer pulling a carry-on suitcase. She had a shy smile and her dark brown eyes twinkled out from under her bangs. Angie guessed that the woman must be in her mid to late twenties.
Courtney returned the smile. “Our sister, Ellie, runs the B and B. We’ll check with her.”
The two Roseland sisters introduced themselves.
“Rachel Marsten.” The newcomer extended her hand to shake and then glanced down to the floor near the round table in the entryway. “And who do we have here?”
Sitting under the table, Euclid’s green eyes were glued to the young woman while Circe sat tall, taking everything in. As yet, neither cat seemed to have arrived at an opinion about the newcomer.
“The orange cat is Euclid and the black one is Circe,” Angie reported.
When Rachel knelt down on one knee to scratch the cats’ cheeks, Angie gave the big orange boy a warning look to behave.
“How many nights were you looking to stay?” Courtney asked. “I’ll go see if there’s a room available.”
“Just the one.” Rachel stood. “I arrived earlier than I thought. I’m renting a house in town for a few months and the owner isn’t available until tomorrow.”
“I’ll be back in a flash.” Courtney disappeared up the wide staircase.
Angie gestured to the buffet table in the dining room. “We have afternoon snacks out, if you’re hungry. There’s tea and coffee and seltzer, too.”
Rachel started to protest, but Angie stopped her. “Please, help yourself while we wait for Courtney to come down.” The two walked into the dining room and Rachel poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Have you come a long way?” Angie made small talk.
“I drove up from West Virginia.” Rachel sipped from her cup. “I’m moving to Sweet Cove for the summer months. I have a job in town. I’ve never been to New England. I needed a change … so, here I am.” She smiled and shrugged a shoulder.
Angie liked the friendly young woman who exuded a warm, upbeat energy. “You’re brave. I don’t think I’d have the courage to move on my own to somewhere I’d never been before.”
“Life is short. I figure we may as well try new things.”
A cold shiver squeezed around Angie’s stomach as Courtney came down the stairs. “Good news. Ellie says that a guest just called and won’t be arriving until tomorrow night. You can have that room.” Courtney had a guest form for Rachel to fill out. “Good timing.”
“That’s great. Thanks so much.” Sitting down at the dining table to fill in the form, Rachel took out a credit card and handed it to Courtney. “Should I put my old West Virginia address or my Sweet Cove address?”
“Put your billing address.” Courtney hurried to the small office off the hall to run the card through for payment.
“Where have you rented a house?” Angie couldn’t shake off the odd feeling of unease she was experiencing. When they’d opened the front door and Angie saw Rachel standing on the porch, her initial feelings of worry began to evaporate with relief, but while talking with the new guest, a growing sense of distress was spreading down her spine like icy fingertips tracing over her skin.
“About ten blocks from Main Street. The house is on Wildewood Road. It runs off of North Way. I’ll be able to walk or bike to work.”
“I know the street.” Courtney came into the dining room and returned the credit card to Rachel. “Angie and I bike that way to get to the rail trails. Which store will you be working in?”
“It’s a stained glass shop on Main Street.”
“Francine’s store?” Angie’s eyes widened. “We’re friends with her.”
“I bet you know everyone in town.” Rachel smiled as she picked up the key to her room that Courtney had placed on the table in front of her.
“How do you know Francine?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t. We have a mutual acquaintance. I got in touch with her through that person.” Rachel took the handle of her suitcase and headed towards the stairs. “I’d love a shower and a nap.”
“I’ll show you the room.” Courtney led the way up the steps.
When the young women had disappeared to the second floor of the house, Angie sat down and Circe jumped onto her lap. Euclid sat on the hardwood floor staring at Angie, his tail swishing over the surface.
“So, what do you think?” she asked the green-eyed feline.
Euclid slowly moved his tail a few more times before releasing a quick, low growl that rumbled deep in his throat.
“Exactly,” Angie sighed.
Mr. Finch entered the dining room as Courtney returned from showing Rachel to her room.
“Do we have a new guest?” Finch rubbed his thumb over the top of his cane.
“We do indeed.” Courtney plopped into the chair next to Angie. “A young woman. Rachel Marston. She’s come to town for the season to work in
Francine’s stained glass shop.”
One of Finch’s bushy eyebrows rose higher on his forehead. “And what do we think of Miss Marston?” Finch flicked his eyes to the top of the China cabinet where Euclid was now sitting.
Angie pressed her back against the chair and followed Finch’s gaze. “The jury is still out.”
Courtney pulled the elastic out of her ponytail and let her hair tumble over her shoulders. “She’s friendly. Easy to talk to.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Miss Courtney.” Finch stepped closer so they could speak softly to one another.
“But,” Courtney began, “something is floating on the air around her. I don’t know what it is yet.” Shifting her eyes to her sister, she asked, “Angie?”
“Same.” Angie nodded slowly. “I don’t know what it is either, but it’s nothing good.”
“Then our early warning systems were correct.” Finch took a quick look down the hall to the kitchen. “Miss Jenna won’t like it.”
“Couldn’t this have waited a few weeks? Until after the wedding?” Angie groaned.
“We can handle it, Sis,” Courtney reassured her older sister with a wink. “For better or for worse, remember?”
“I prefer the ‘for better’ part.” Angie rested her chin in her hand.
Ellie came downstairs, joined the others in the dining room, and reached her arms over her head to stretch her back muscles. “I’ve been hunched over the sewing machine for hours.” When she noticed the looks on the faces of the three people in the room, Ellie’s cheeks lost their color. “What’s the matter now?”
“Nothing,” Courtney told her. “Yet.”
Ellie joined the others around the table and whispered, “Is it that new guest?”
“We all had feelings of concern when the doorbell rang.” Angie glanced at the staircase. “When I saw Rachel at the door, I thought our sensations were misplaced or just plain wrong, but then she chatted with me and the more we talked, the more worried I got.”
“What did you talk about?” Ellie asked. “What did she say that made you worry?”
Angie stared into the foyer, thinking. “It wasn’t anything in particular that she said.”
“Does she give off negative energy?” Ellie persisted.
“It isn’t really like that.” Angie shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not that helpful.” Ellie turned away from Angie and directed the next comment to Courtney. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“I’m answering all the questions you’re asking Angie in my head.”
“Do you have better answers?”
“Nope.” Courtney frowned. “I can’t put my finger on it. Rachel is pleasant enough. She seems like she’d probably be fun to spend time with … but, like I said, there’s something floating on the air around her. I haven’t experienced this kind of feeling before.”
“Great.” Ellie seemed to deflate. “We have a wedding to put on. I have a gown to finish. We can’t be off solving whatever this is.”
“Nothing’s happened yet, Miss Ellie,” Finch offered.
Ellie’s blue eyes looked sad. “I know you’re trying to keep me from worrying, but we all know very well something is about to happen. This is how it starts. Someone gets a feeling.” Ellie made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “And then, off we go.” Reaching for a lock of her hair, she absent-mindedly worried the ends with her fingers. “Where’s Jenna?”
“Miss Jenna went out to the carriage house to talk to Tom,” Mr. Finch reported.
Jenna’s fiancé, Tom, had recently sold his ranch house and moved into one of the carriage house apartments until the wedding. The carriage house had been fully renovated and repaired after the October fire that nearly razed the structure. Now the building housed a two-car garage, a storage area, and three two-bedroom apartments, one of which was on the first floor with sliding glass doors to a small, private rear stone patio encircled with mature trees. Tom had joked that he and Jenna might decide to sell the Queen Anne and move permanently into the carriage house.
“Jenna isn’t going to like the fact that trouble has decided to descend on the Roseland family right before the wedding.” Courtney winked at Mr. Finch. “You’re included in the words ‘Roseland family.’” Her eyes went wide and she suggested, “Why don’t you change your last name to Roseland, Mr. Finch, or at least hyphenate it so it’s clear that you are part of our family? Jenna’s going to hyphenate hers. You’d become Victor Roseland-Finch, or Victor Finch-Roseland. I think I like the sound of the first one. Then we’d have to call you Mr. Roseland-Finch all the time. It’s kind of long, but it has a nice ring. What do you think?”
Finch tried to hide a smile. “If I change it, Miss Courtney, I will allow you to shorten it to ‘Finch’ when you address me.”
Angie said, “I can think of something more important than trying to figure out what’s going on with Rachel or changing Mr. Finch’s last name.”
Everyone turned to Angie with looks of concern etched over their faces.
“What is it?” Ellie asked softly.
“Are there any more of those macarons left? I didn’t get a chance to give my opinion.”
Sighs of relief could be heard around the table.
With a smile, Courtney stood. “There’s enough for everyone. I’ll go get the box.”
Before she could head down the hallway, the doorbell rang causing the four people to exchange quick glances.
“I’ll get it.” Leaning down to peek out the foyer window, Courtney raised an eyebrow. With her hand on the doorknob she announced, “It’s Chief Martin.”
Angie’s heart dropped into her stomach.
4
Chief Martin entered the foyer holding his hat in his hand. Six feet tall and a bit stocky, the man was in his mid-fifties and had known the four sisters since they were little girls visiting their nana in Sweet Cove during the summers. “Afternoon,” the chief nodded. Euclid and Circe hurried to the man to press against his legs requesting cheek scratches. The chief obliged.
“Come sit with us.” Courtney led the way to the dining room. “Coffee?’
“Thanks.” The chief sat. “Sorry to bother.”
Despite the worry picking at her, Angie smiled warmly. “It’s never a bother when you come by. You know that.”
“How are things, Chief?” Finch asked. “We haven’t had an evening of card playing in some time. We must arrange it.”
“I’d like that.” The chief placed his hat on the seat next to him and gratefully accepted the mug of hot coffee. “Maybe we can fit it in before the wedding.”
“Is there something wrong, Chief?” Ellie asked gently.
“Am I that transparent?”
“I’m afraid so,” Courtney smiled. “Your forehead scrunches up when you have some bad news.”
“I don’t have bad news, well, it’s more unusual news, well, I guess it’s not news exactly.”
All eyes fixed on the chief, everyone trying to keep their faces neutral so as not to betray their impatience waiting to hear what the chief had come to tell them. Angie raised her eyebrows slightly and gave a little nod of encouragement.
“Do any of you … sense anything going on in town?” the chief asked choosing his words with care. He knew that Mr. Finch and the Roselands had special abilities. The sisters had inherited certain skills from their nana who had used her talents many times to help the Sweet Cove police department solve crimes. The Roselands had recently begun to follow in Nana’s footsteps. Ever since arriving to live in Sweet Cove a year ago, the four sisters’ abilities had manifested and grown stronger and they had been called in many times by Chief Martin to assist with difficult investigations.
“We did feel something today,” Angie folded her hands in her lap and explained what she and the others felt when Rachel rang the doorbell. “When we were chatting with Rachel, I started to feel nervous again.”
“Up from D.C. to work in Francine’s shop, huh?�
� The chief pondered the tidbit of information. “Renting a house on Wildewood? Interesting. She say what number?”
Angie shook her head.
“You didn’t come here to talk to us about Rachel,” Courtney observed. “Did you?”
“No, it’s something else.” The chief rubbed his chin. “Nonsense, I suppose.”
“Tell us,” Mr. Finch said gently.
“A woman came into the police station the past couple of days.” The chief looked from person to person. “She arrived in town about a week ago. She’s renting a house in Sweet Cove until the end of September. Every morning she takes her dog for a walk on the walking trails on the north side of town.” The chief shifted in his seat. “The woman claims the dog gets agitated when they get to a certain part of the path, he doesn’t want to go forward, barks, pulls on the leash wanting to cut through the trees in a different direction.”
“This happens every day?” Courtney questioned.
“In the same spot?” Angie asked.
Chief Martin nodded. “That’s the claim.”
“Are there any missing persons in the area?” Mr. Finch couldn’t remember anyone who had been reported missing in the most recent past.
“None in the surrounding towns.” The chief took a sip from his mug. “I sent a patrolman out there to the trails to have a look around. He walked the paths and ventured into the woods in the area the woman reports the dog becomes agitated. He said there’s no indication of anything amiss.”
“Does the dog behave like this on a regular basis?” Ellie asked.
“I questioned her about that. She says the dog is fairly docile everywhere else.”
“Is there anything … odd … about this woman?” Angie wondered. “Is she looking for attention? Could she have a history of doing this kind of thing?”
