by J A Whiting
“Did Mr. Topper go into town a little early that day?” Lin asked. “Would he have had time to visit the bookstore before meeting his friends?”
“I wasn’t here when he left the house,” Maggie told them. “I was at a friend’s house in Cisco. I’m not sure if Warren left early for town or not.”
After a few more questions, Lin and Viv thanked the woman for her time and left the house. Walking to Lin’s truck, Viv said, “Warren Topper did not get poisoned in my store.”
“Let’s hope not anyway,” Lin said.
Viv glared at her cousin. “It would be impossible. It’s me, Mallory, and three others who would have made Topper’s drink. Those employees have worked with me for a long time. None of them would have any reason to poison that man. Anyway, why would Topper stop in for a drink when he was headed to a bar a few blocks away to meet his friends?”
“You’re right. That really doesn’t sound plausible,” Lin asked. “You don’t recall ever seeing Topper in the bookstore?”
“Not from a grainy photo that was on the news. I’ll look at some of the photos again. If he was a regular, I’d most likely remember him.” Viv yanked the passenger side door open using too much effort. “And it doesn’t sound like Topper is descended from anyone who lived on Nantucket. At least not any of the silk factory owners.”
Lin said, “We’ll see if Anton finds a link that Mr. Topper didn’t know about. If he doesn’t find anything, then that shoots down Libby’s and Anton’s theory that the killer is exacting revenge for something the three owners did so long ago.”
“If that turns out to be the case,” Viv asked. “Where do we go from here?”
Lin was quiet as she turned on the truck’s engine and steered it down the driveway. “To stay overnight at the Seaborne Inn.”
8
Lin and Viv were shown to a room with two twin beds and a private bath on the second floor of the inn. The beds were covered with luxurious linens, plenty of fluffy pillows, and comforters as soft as clouds.
Patricia, the innkeeper said, “Remember there is wine and sherry in the living room along with some hors d’oeuvres and cake at 5pm. The breakfast tomorrow morning is from 7am to 10am and is served in the dining room. You’re welcome to take your breakfasts to your room or to the sitting rooms or out to the gardens. Let me know if I can be of any help.”
When the woman left, Viv plopped down onto her bed on her back and closed her eyes. “This bed is so comfortable. No wonder the ghost-woman never leaves this building.”
Smiling at Viv, Lin sat on her bed and ran her hand over the comforter. “When I was here the other day, I couldn’t believe how soft the comforter was.”
Viv opened one eye. “Soft as silk? As in a silk factory?”
“Very funny,” Lin deadpanned.
“It’s hard to believe this beautiful, relaxing place was once a factory where people worked all day.” Viv pushed herself up. “I had a good idea to come stay here for the night, didn’t I? It’s a little after 5pm. Let’s go downstairs and enjoy a glass of wine. Maybe your ghost will join us.”
Five guests holding wine glasses stood around chatting with the two innkeepers, Patricia and Milton Dellwood. In her sixties with short blond hair and bright blue eyes, Patricia smiled at Lin and Viv, poured them glasses of cabernet, pointed out the afternoon hors d’oeuvres, and introduced them to the other guests. “Lin is a landscaper here on the island and Viv owns the bookstore on Main Street. They’re cousins.”
An older man with a full white mustache raised an eyebrow. “If you live on-island, why stay here at the inn?”
“Once in a while, a person needs to de-stress,” Viv smiled sweetly. “We run businesses here so it isn’t easy to get away. Now and then my cousin and I enjoy a night away from our usual routines and the lovely inns on-island offer a beautiful and relaxing change of pace.”
“That makes a lot of sense.” An older woman came up beside the man who asked the question. “A night away, a mini getaway, but without all the fuss and bother of traveling. What a smart thing to do. And in such wonderful surroundings. You must return to your responsibilities feeling quite refreshed.”
While the older couple questioned Viv about her bookshop, Patricia asked Lin, “Is everything fine with your room?”
“Yes, it’s great, thank you.”
“I was surprised to see you again. When you were here last, did visiting Maura Wells’s room prove helpful?”
“Unfortunately, not,” Lin said. “We didn’t find anything that could help the investigation.”
“Too bad.” Patricia topped off her glass of merlot. “I hope the police can solve the case quickly.”
Lin wanted to move the conversation to something other than Maura Wells’s murder so she asked, “How long have you owned the inn?”
“Oh, gosh,” Patricia said. “Nearly twenty-five years. Time really does fly. We married young and had our two kids right away. Once they went off to college, we decided to move here, buy the inn, and become innkeepers.”
“Were you innkeepers before moving here?” Lin asked.
“Oh, no.” Patricia chuckled. “Milton was a partner in a law firm and I was a financial analyst. When we got here, we didn’t know what we were doing. We had to learn pretty darned fast.”
“The house is beautiful,” Lin told her.
“You know its history?” Patricia asked.
“A little. The building was once a silk factory?”
“That’s right. When the factory went out of business, the building was eventually divided into two residences. For a while, this side was a boarding house, then it was turned into an inn. The other side of the building has been a residential home for over a hundred and fifty years.” Patricia picked up a small mushroom turnover. “Have you met our resident ghost yet?”
Lin almost paled. “What?”
The older woman who was talking with Viv heard Patricia’s comment and looked over. “Patricia has been claiming a ghost lives here for years. I’ve never once seen her. I think Pat invented the whole thing to make the inn seem like an intriguing place. It isn’t necessary to make up a story. Some people wouldn’t want to stay here if they thought a ghost lived here. The inn is fabulous as it is. It doesn’t need a crazy story about a ghost.” She turned back to listen to what her husband and Viv were discussing.
“She’s wrong,” Patricia whispered. “There is a ghost.” When she saw the look on Lin’s face, she quickly asked, “Does that bother you?”
“What? No. No, it doesn’t. It just surprised me.” Lin took a long swallow of her wine.
“Oh, don’t worry. The ghost is quiet, not scary or anything like that.”
“You’ve seen this ghost?” Lin asked.
“I sure have. My husband has, too. It’s a woman. I believe she’s from the time the factory was in operation.”
“Why do you think that?” Lin’s heart raced. She wanted to know if Patricia could see the same ghost she saw.
“Just a feeling I have.”
“What does she look like?” Lin asked.
“She wears a long dress with a high collar and her hair is up in a bun. I never really have gotten a good look at her face. She zips by so fast.”
“Is she solid?” Lin questioned.
Viv heard a few pieces of Lin’s and Patricia’s conversation and glanced over at her cousin with a raised eyebrow.
Lin shrugged.
“Solid?” Patricia asked and gave it some thought. “No, she isn’t solid like we are. I’m not sure how to describe her. It’s like a wisp of smoke when she moves past. I get a sense of her, but I can’t make out her features.”
“When do you see her? Every day? At regular times?”
“Not every day.” Patricia shook her head. “Once every couple of months or so.”
“Is there anything going on at the time that makes her appear?”
“I never thought about that.” Patricia tapped her index finger against her chin.
“Do you experience any sensations when she shows up?” Lin asked.
“Like what? Noises? A cold breeze?” Patricia let out a chuckle. “I think that stuff about cold air when a ghost shows up is foolishness, but maybe I hear a soft rustling just before she zooms by.”
Lin could definitely refute what the woman was saying about cold air arriving before a ghost appears, but she decided she wouldn’t mention anything about it. “A rustling?” she asked.
“Like fabric swishing,” Patricia said. “I was interviewed once about it for a book a woman was doing about ghosts and spirits of Nantucket. There are supposed to be a lot of haunted places on the island. Some ghosts are mean or frightening. Thankfully, our ghost is calm and gentle. I couldn’t stay in a house that had a nasty spirit.”
A few more guests came down the stairs and entered the living room. Before Patricia moved away to the buffet table to pour drinks for the newcomers, Lin asked, “Do you know her name?”
Patricia looked confused at first, but then her expression cleared. “The ghost-woman? No, I don’t.”
“Do you get any feelings about her? Why she stays here?” Lin asked.
“No. I wondered about that. Why doesn’t she move on? It seems kind of sad.” The innkeeper went to help the new guests with drinks.
Viv sidled up next to her cousin and used a soft voice when she asked, “Was she talking to you about ghosts?”
“Just one ghost. The one that lives in this building.” Lin kept her voice quiet as she relayed what Patricia had told her.
“Is it the same one you saw?” Viv looked nervously over her shoulders. “Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to stay overnight here.”
“It sounds like the same ghost.” Suddenly, the air around Lin became icy cold and she glanced around trying to locate the source.
The ghost-woman appeared across the room, standing very still next to the baby grand piano and making eye contact with Lin. A beautiful diamond-cut silver necklace graced the ghost’s neck and she wore a long, light blue dress. Her form was translucent and her atoms sparkled and shimmered to emit a gentle glow.
Lin ran her hand over her arms to banish the goosebumps and then moved her eyes to Patricia to see if the woman noticed that someone unexpected was in the room with them. Patricia poured wine and chatted with the guests unaware of the shimmering spirit.
Lin looked back to the ghost. A painful sadness came off of the spirit and the feeling moved across the room and enveloped Lin. The ghost’s blue eyes glistened with tears. She reached her hand out towards Lin and then placed it over her heart.
When Viv said something to her cousin, Lin didn’t hear her.
“Lin?” Seeing the expression on her cousin’s face, Viv glanced around the room. “Is someone here?”
Lin didn’t speak.
Viv placed her hand on her cousin’s arm and Lin jumped.
“Do you see someone?” Viv said softly.
Lin nodded. “She’s here.” The cold air surrounding her was so pronounced that Lin didn’t know how she kept her teeth from chattering.
“Where?” Viv questioned.
“By the piano. She’s watching me.”
The other people in the elegant room enjoyed the drinks and food, chatted and laughed with one another completely oblivious to the nearly see-through guest who had quietly joined them.
Feeling anxious about someone she couldn’t see being nearby, Viv took a step closer to Lin. “Does she want something? Does she want your help with something?”
Lin’s eyes were glued on the ghost. “I think she does.”
“Do you know what it is?” Viv asked.
“I have no idea.”
9
When the evening reception was over, Lin and Viv returned to their room, changed into pajamas, and relaxed on their beds with Viv reading a book and Lin resting against her pillow, thinking.
“Why does the ghost stay here? Why is she so sad?” Lin thought out loud.
Viv didn’t look up from her book. “You’ll figure it out,” she mumbled.
“What’s her connection to Mr. Topper and Ms. Wells?”
Viv was engrossed in her book and didn’t reply.
“Is there a connection between Topper and Ms. Wells or are we forcing our theory onto the murders?” Lin asked. “Do you think there’s a connection between them?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Patricia, the innkeeper, said she thinks the ghost is from the time the factory was in business. We saw the picture of the women who worked in the factory in that old history book. One of them was my ghost. Do you think something bad happened to the ghost when she worked in the factory?”
Viv didn’t answer.
“Viv? Are you listening?” Lin asked.
Closing her book, Viv placed it on her stomach. “I wasn’t, no. Sorry. I thought we were relaxing.”
“We can’t relax. This is a working overnight stay.” Lin swung her legs over the side of the bed and sighed. “Go ahead and read. I was just saying things that popped into my head. I’m going downstairs to the kitchen to get some tea. Want something?”
“No, thanks. Would you like me to come down with you?” Viv asked.
“I’ll be right back.” Lin put on her robe, headed down to the kitchen where several platters of cookies and a sliced chocolate cake were spread out on the large granite island. She was filling a mug with water when Patricia walked in.
“Oh, Lin. Do you have what you need? Can I get you anything else?”
With a smile, Lin looked at all the sweets and chose a chocolate chip cookie. “I couldn’t possibly want anything else.”
“Is your room comfortable? Need another blanket or some more pillows?” Patricia poured a cup of coffee for herself and leaned against the counter sipping her beverage.
“Everything’s great. Thank you.” Lin set her mug down. “Do you know much about the building? What happened to it after the business closed? Who owned it?”
“When the business folded, the three owners sold it to a couple from town and they turned it into a rooming house. It changed hands several times, half the building was turned into the residential home and the other half was renovated into an inn.”
Lin knew those details already. “Do you know anything about the people who owned the building over the years?”
“Only the people we bought the inn from. They ran it for twelve years and then they wanted to slow down, relax, travel. They were a nice couple.”
“Do you know anything about Maura Wells?”
Patricia looked surprised. “I know she was a professor. She told me she was working on some research.”
“Did she seem worried when she was here?” Lin asked.
“She seemed … business-like. It was clear Ms. Wells wasn’t here to chat or interact with the other guests. She was working. I didn’t know the woman so I’m not sure if she was worried or not, but I would say she didn’t strike me as being concerned about anything.”
“Did she have any visitors?”
Patricia shook her head. “No, not that I know of.”
“Did she mention meeting up with anyone? A friend? An associate?”
“She didn’t bring that up. Ms. Wells went about her work quietly. She didn’t engage in much conversation. She was polite and cordial, but Maura was not interested in chatter or small talk.”
Lin asked, “Do you know what Maura was researching?”
“The island’s economy and the economic changes that have taken place here. I think that’s what she said about it.”
“Was she married?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did she have children?” Lin asked.
“She never mentioned having kids, but she was pretty private. I don’t know if she had any or not. She never mentioned family.” Patricia’s face clouded. “The police say Maura was murdered. Can you imagine? Poisoned? My husband worries that guests will think Maura was poisoned here at the inn. He hopes it doesn’t scare p
eople off.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Lin said. “Your reservations will probably go up. Intrigue and mystery can make a lot of people more interested in visiting a place.”
“Poor woman.” Patricia shook her head. “How could it have happened? Why did it happen?”
“Do you know where Maura was prior to being found in the neighbor’s garden?” Lin asked.
“I don’t know.” Patricia wore an expression of sadness. “I wish I did. I saw her at breakfast that morning. She said she was going to the Athenaeum and to the historical museum later in the day. I don’t know if she made it there or not.”
“Did Maura ever tell you where she liked to have lunch or where she might have gone for coffee?”
Patricia shook her head. “She didn’t.”
“Did she seem friendly with any of the other guests?”
“She mostly kept to herself. She didn’t really interact with anyone.” The innkeeper took another swallow of her coffee. “The most we interacted was when she asked me if I could give her a tour of the building.”
Lin perked up. “A tour of the building or of the inn?”
“The building.”
“Did you give her a tour?”
“Yes. I can’t bring anyone into the home right next door, of course, but I showed her around in here and took her down to the basement, our half of the basement.”
“Why was she interested?”
“Maura knew that the building was once a factory. She asked me a lot of questions about the factory and the employees. She’s an historian so it makes sense that she’d be interested.”
“Can you show me the basement?” Lin asked.
Patricia’s eyes widened. “Now? Do you want to go down to the basement now?”
“Can we? If it isn’t an inconvenience.”
“Sure. There isn’t much to see … just the building foundation. The space is pretty good sized, but it’s really just an old cellar.”
Patricia led Lin down the stairs into the nondescript basement. “There’s a washer and dryer down here even though we have a service take care of the linens for the inn. We have two extra refrigerators here, too. Originally, there would have been a dirt floor, but along the way, one of the owners had concrete put down. Thankfully.”
