The Haunted Inn (A Lin Coffin Mystery Book 8)

by J A Whiting

  The surf at Madaket could be strong and swift and swimmers had to take care not to be caught in fast-moving current.

  After removing two towels from his pack, Jeff pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it on the blanket. “Let’s ride some waves, but let’s not go out too far. We don’t want to get caught in an undercurrent and have a hard time swimming back to shore.”

  Lin and Jeff dashed into the waves laughing and jumping and spent the next twenty minutes body surfing in the ocean until Jeff announced he was hungry. Returning to the blanket, they toweled off, sat down, and dug into the sandwiches they’d purchased before arriving at the beach.

  “That was great. The waves were terrific and the water was warm,” Lin said, biting into her sandwich.

  “And this meatball and sausage sandwich is delicious.” Jeff licked his lower lip to remove a bit of sauce.

  “Look at the sky,” Lin said.

  The sun was low in the sky painting the blue background with pinks, violets, and splashes of red. Madaket was known for gorgeous sunsets as the big yellow-orange ball of fire made its dramatic evening plunge into the sea.

  Jeff put his arm around Lin’s shoulders and drew her close. “Perfect.”

  When they finished their dinner, the two decided to take a walk along the beach, and as they strolled, Lin brought Jeff up-to-date on the latest case.

  “It’s terrible,” Jeff said. “I’m very sorry Mr. Topper passed away. And without regaining consciousness. Too bad he wasn’t able to give an account of where he’d been just prior to arriving at the bar.”

  “The whole thing is shocking,” Lin agreed. “It would have been a big help to hear if he’d had something to eat or drink before meeting with his friends. We might have been able to determine if the poison was ingested while Mr. Topper drank at the bar or maybe, before he arrived.”

  “His wife might be able to help with that information,” Jeff said.

  “Libby has arranged for Viv and I to speak with Mrs. Topper tomorrow. I’m surprised the woman agreed, but she must want to do what she can to help find her husband’s killer.”

  “Has Anton figured out if Topper is related to any of the silk factory owners?” Jeff asked.

  Lin shook her head. “Not yet. There’s a good amount of information to wade through.”

  “Why do Libby and Anton think these deaths are related to the silk factory?” Jeff reached down for a small stone and skipped it far out into the ocean.

  Lin explained, “Libby doesn’t say much about that, but Anton let it slip that Maura Wells was working on a book about the island’s economy back in the day. I guess they both think that Maura’s digging into the past may have triggered someone to take revenge for something. And the note that was found in Maura’s hand insinuated that there would be three murders in total. There were three owners of the factory so it seemed plausible that the people being killed might have ties to those factory owners. It’s still just a theory.”

  “Maybe the murders have nothing to do with the men who owned the factory,” Jeff offered.

  “I’ve been wondering that myself.” Lin picked up a cream-colored shell and, for a moment, held it up to admire the light shimmering against it. “But at least, attempting to tie the victims to the owners is a place to start.”

  “Did something bad happen in the factory?” Jeff asked. “Have you found anything to suggest a death or an accident took place in the building?”

  “Not yet.” Lin squeezed her boyfriend’s hand. “We don’t have much to go on, do we?”

  “Give it time,” Jeff said encouragingly. “Tell me about the ghost you saw at the inn.”

  “It was a brief appearance,” Lin said. “The ghost was a woman, in her mid-twenties maybe, wearing a long dress with a high collar. Her hair was in a bun. I saw her rush by the guest room where Maura Wells had been staying and I saw her at the top of the stairs when we were leaving the inn.”

  “Did she seem like she wanted to communicate with you?”

  “She held my eyes for a long time. Her face was serious. I can’t say what emotions she might have been feeling, but her gaze was intense. She wants me to know something, but what it is, I can’t say.”

  Jeff smiled. “You’ll figure it out.”

  Lin and Jeff rode the bikes back to town, took showers and changed at Lin’s house, played with Nicky for a while, and then walked into the historic district to stroll past the shops and have a drink at the outside bar down by the docks.

  Walking along the brick sidewalks under the streetlamps, they stopped at a few store windows to look in at the wares, sat on a bench for a while to listen to a violinist playing songs on a corner, strolled past a long line of people waiting to get ice cream at a popular shop, and then continued along Broad Street to take a right on Easy Street.

  Passing a small antiques store, Jeff tugged on Lin’s arm. “Let’s have a look. I’d like a painting of a ship or a seascape for my living room. A friend of mine told me the prices are decent here.”

  Lin had never been inside the old shop. The display tables and walls held all sorts of beautiful objects … ship’s wheels, sailors’ valentines, paintings, clocks, barometers, old books, photographs, dishes and teacups, jewelry, tide clocks, lightship baskets, desks, tables, and hutches.

  “How have I not visited this place before?” Lin asked as they moved slowly around admiring the things. “I’ll have to bring Viv here.”

  Lin and Jeff stopped to look at two nautical paintings hanging on one wall.

  “I think I like this one.” Jeff pointed at a painting of a storm at sea.

  “I don’t know,” Lin said. “It’s beautiful, but it scares me. The ship looks like it’s going to sink.”

  Jeff chuckled. “How about the other one then? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable every time you’re in my living room.”

  Lin said with a smile, “Get the one you like best. I’ll get used to it.”

  While Jeff stared at the paintings trying to make a decision, Lin wandered around the store and discovered a small bookcase filled with volumes on island history. Taking out one of the books, she turned the pages and became engrossed in the tales of old Nantucket.

  Turning the next page, she saw several old photographs of the town, the docks, and houses from different parts of the island … from magnificent captains’ homes to small, tidy cottages. Some of the pictures were from the mid to late 1800s showing townspeople and sailors and shopkeepers.

  “Lin, I think I’m going to get this one,” Jeff called to her.

  Heading back to where Jeff stood, Lin asked him which one he’d chosen.

  “This one of the sailing ship. The sea is calm and the sky is blue. It’s calming, not frightening,” he kidded his girlfriend.

  “Good choice.”

  “I’m going to have them hold it for me until tomorrow so I don’t have to carry it around town.”

  When Jeff went to get the salesclerk, Lin meandered around the store and ended up back near the bookshelf. One of the pages of the book she’d left out on the table was fluttering slightly from the breeze of the overhead ceiling fan and Lin walked over to return it to the shelf.

  The photographs on the page caught her attention and she leaned forward to get a better look. One was of an inn, another of a ship sailing past Brant Point. Moving her eyes over the page, Lin noticed a photograph of the old hat factory.

  Turning the page, she saw a building with a group of about twenty-five women standing in front of it. All of the women wore long dresses and had their hair pinned back or held up in buns. Their facial expressions were serious.

  “Are you ready to go?” Jeff came up behind Lin and she almost jumped when he placed his hand on her back.

  “Look at these old photographs,” she said to Jeff. “Some of them are from the 1840s.”

  Jeff looked down at the open book and pointed. “This is Main Street. It really hasn’t changed much at all.”

  The little hairs on Lin’s arms stood u
p and a shiver of cold air washed over her. Slowly lifting her head, she turned slightly to look around the shop expecting to see a spirit. The sensation of chill disappeared and she thought maybe the ceiling fans had made her feel cool.

  Just as she was about to close the book, Lin’s eyes fell onto a photo of a group of women standing in front of a building.

  She snatched up the book from the table and stared at the picture.

  “Jeff.” Lin whispered.

  “What is it?” He glanced over her shoulder.

  “This woman. This one.” Lin gently touched the page of the book with a shaking finger. “Right here.” With her heart pounding, she said softly, “This is my ghost.”

  7

  Lin brought along the old book she’d purchased in the antique store so that Viv could see the picture of the group of women workers standing in front of the silk factory.

  “That’s her, on the right, next to the tall woman.” Lin removed one hand from the steering wheel and gestured.

  Viv held the book in her lap and stared at the woman in the black and white photo. “I’d say she’s in her mid-twenties. Her hair is light. She looks intelligent. I can’t tell if she’s wearing a wedding ring or not.”

  “No one’s name is listed. It only says, employees of the Island Silk Factory.”

  “You’re sure it’s her?” Viv still scrutinized the picture.

  Lin turned the truck onto upper Main Street and passed large houses set back from the street. “Absolutely. No doubt in my mind. It says the photo was taken in 1842.”

  “The ghost has only appeared to you once.” Viv looked out through the windshield. “You need to see more of her to get a sense of what she wants from you.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want anything from me.”

  Viv gave her cousin a look of skepticism. “Wishful thinking.” Watching the trees and brush and homes as they passed, she added, “Why won’t the ghost-woman show up wherever you are? Is she shy?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to leave the inn,” Lin offered.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Viv questioned.

  “She might feel safe there.”

  “In the place she used to work?” Viv squinted in question. “Isn’t that odd? To want to remain in the place where you used to work?”

  “For whatever reason, this woman stays in the inn and doesn’t cross over,” Lin said and then frowned. “I’d like to see her again. I get the feeling that seeing her would help with these poisoning cases.”

  “Well,” Viv said, her eyes bright with an idea. “How about we stay at the inn overnight? You’ve already visited the room where Maura Wells stayed. I don’t think the innkeeper would want you hanging around there without reason. We don’t have any business in the place, at least not business we can discuss with the inn’s owner. We can’t say, Oh, hi. We want to sit in the living room so we can interact with the ghost who stays here.” Viv shook her head. “But if we booked a room for one night, it would give you the access you need without having to provide an explanation for wanting to be there.”

  “It’s a great idea. Let’s do that. I hope they have a vacancy available soon.” Lin turned into a long driveway and pulled to a stop next to the huge home’s three-car garage.

  “I’m not looking forward to this.” Viv appeared to sink into the passenger seat.

  “It’s never easy talking with someone who recently lost a loved one. Come on, let’s get it done.” Lin opened the door and slipped out of her truck onto the crushed, white shell driveway.

  The house, newly-shingled, was enormous with a wide covered porch running along the front. A long bed of flowering hydrangeas had been planted next to the home. With her tail thumping against the porch floor, a big black Labrador slowly pushed herself up from its nap and walked down the few steps to greet them.

  The front door opened and Mrs. Topper emerged. “The dog’s name is Rolly. She’s as friendly as can be. I’m watching her today for my friend. Would you like me to call her away from you?” The woman was slim, average height, in her mid-fifties, with her blond hair cut into a chin-length bob.

  “Oh, no. We both like dogs,” Lin informed Mrs. Topper as she patted the head and neck of the Lab.

  “I’m Maggie Willard Topper.” She shook hands with the cousins and they introduced themselves and offered condolences before heading into the elegant, but comfortably furnished living room. Three light blue sofas had been grouped in front of a fireplace with views to the outside through nearly floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of the room.

  Lin thanked the woman for seeing them. “I know the police must have asked you many of the same questions we’ll bring up, but I hope you can bear with us.”

  Maggie Topper nodded, her lips tight and her face serious.

  “Do you know if your husband stopped off somewhere between the time he left the house and when he met his friends at the restaurant’s bar?” Lin asked.

  “I don’t know if he stopped anywhere else or not.” Maggie touched her hair and pushed it away from her face. “He always took the car to the lot on Washington Street and parked, then he’d walk around town from there. I assume he did the same thing as he always did, since the police located his car in the lot.”

  “Was the condition of the car the same as when Mr. Topper left the house?” Viv asked.

  Maggie sat up straighter. “Yes. At least, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Why would you ask about the car?”

  “We wondered if someone might have approached Mr. Topper in the lot,” Lin said. “We were interested to know if they’d been anything to indicate that your husband might have tussled with someone.”

  “I don’t think so.” Maggie held her hands tightly together in her lap.

  “When Mr. Topper went into town, did he have a routine of any kind?” Viv asked. “Did he frequent the same stores and establishments? Did he have a friend he might have stopped in to say hello to?”

  “Warren was meeting his two friends at the restaurant,” Maggie said. “I doubt he would have stopped anywhere else. He must have parked in the public lot and strolled to the restaurant.”

  “There was no one in town he might have popped in to say hello to?” Lin asked.

  “I can’t think of anyone.” Maggie’s bottom lip twitched slightly. “We have an accountant and a lawyer in town who we use from time to time, but Warren had no reason to call on them.”

  “How did your husband seem recently?” Lin questioned. “Did he seem out of sorts? Sad, depressed? Was he worried about anything?”

  Maggie shook her head. “He was himself. He never gave any hint that something might be wrong.” The woman blinked back tears. “Who would kill Warren? Poison him? It’s like something out of a terrible, old movie.”

  Lin murmured something understanding and kind … feeling inadequate, as usual, in her ability to offer some comforting words.

  Viv asked, “Your husband was in good health?”

  “He was. He’d recently had his annual physical and he passed with flying colors.”

  “He was a banker?” Viv questioned.

  Maggie nodded. “An investment banker and financial advisor.”

  “He was still working?”

  “Yes, I didn’t see Warren retiring any time soon. He enjoyed his work. The past few summers, he took time from the office and worked from his den here in the house. When he needed to go in, he flew from the airport to New York and returned the same way.”

  “How long have you been coming to the island?” Lin asked.

  “Oh, gosh, forever. This house has been in the family for almost two hundred years.”

  “Did your husband have connections to Nantucket?”

  “No, we came here together for the first time when we started dating. He loved the island.”

  “Did Mr. Topper have any relatives who were from the island? An ancestor, perhaps?” Viv asked.

  “An ancestor? From Nantucket?” Maggie seemed surprised by the question.
“No. Warren’s family was from the mainland.”

  “Did the police ask you this same question?” Lin asked.

  “No, they didn’t. Why would that be important?”

  “Just wondering about connections, that’s all.”

  “Is the name Thomas Samuelson familiar to you?” Viv asked. “Did Mr. Topper ever mention someone of that name being a relative? As a great-great-grandfather, perhaps?”

  “I don’t believe so. I never heard the name.”

  “What about Bradford Coffin or Garrell Williams? Do those names sound familiar at all?” Lin questioned.

  “Coffin? Your last names are Coffin. I know that people with that surname were some of the first families to come to the island, but in relation to Warren or me? Not at all,” Maggie said. “What was the other name?”

  Lin repeated it for the woman.

  “Garrell? No, I’ve never heard that name before.”

  “Did your husband know a woman named Maura Wells?”

  Maggie’s eyes flashed. “That was the name of the woman who was poisoned a few days ago. Warren didn’t know her. When we heard about Ms. Wells being poisoned, we discussed what reason someone could have to kill the poor woman. If Warren knew her, he would have said so.”

  “Do you have any idea why someone would want to hurt Warren?” Lin asked. “Any business problems? Any issues or arguments with someone?”

  Maggie shook her head and batted at her eyes. “He never said any such thing. Everything was the way it always was.”

  “Was there any place in town that Mr. Topper liked to go? A particular store? A café?”

  Maggie was about to shake her head, but then said, “Warren liked to stop at that bookstore on Main Street, Viv’s Victus. He liked their coffee. He liked browsing the shelves for something to read.”

  Lin’s and Viv’s jaws almost dropped.

  “Wait,” Maggie said eyeing Viv, recognition registering on her face. “Aren’t you the owner of that bookstore?”

  Viv cleared her throat. “I am. Your husband liked to drop in?”

  “He did. Whenever he went into town, he often stopped in.”