by J A Whiting
Removing the lunch items from the cooler, Lin asked about the renovation work.
“It’s going well. I’m on target. Dr. Mitchell is pleased with it.” Jeff continued to pet the dog as he spoke. “I see the yard work is coming along.”
“We need a delivery of topsoil and they couldn’t bring it until tomorrow morning so we’re concentrating on our other clients’ yards today.” Lin told Jeff what was in the containers. “This one is rice pilaf and this one has falafel. I made tzatziki sauce and this container has a tomato and onion salad.” She unwrapped some pita bread and placed it on two plates.
“What a feast.” Jeff beamed at his girlfriend and rubbed his belly. “I’m starving.”
“Then dig in.” Lin took out a container of iced tea.
“I made dessert,” Jeff told her as he added falafel to his pita pocket.
“Really? What is it?” Lin placed a bowl of dog food and a bowl of water on the patio for Nicky and then she sat down at the table.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Jeff said with a grin.
Lin told Jeff about her and Viv’s meeting with Anton.
Jeff stopped eating and looked at Lin with wide eyes. “Viv is related to William Irons?”
“Very distantly. It was a surprise to all of us.” Lin spooned some of the white sauce over her falafel.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Jeff asked. “Viv’s powers of perception began with this ghost … someone she has a distant connection to. Does that make her less fearful of her new skill?”
Lin chuckled. “I don’t think so, but she does feel a duty to help him despite her discomfort surrounding this new ability of hers.”
Jeff held his girlfriend’s eyes. “Viv is a lot like you, determined to use these uncommon skills to help someone in distress.”
“We really have no choice. I could never abandon someone who needs help, and neither would Viv.”
“What’s your next step with the case?” Jeff used a napkin to wipe a bit of sauce from his lips.
“We’ll go back to the historical museum’s library to see if there are any other letters from Cantor detainees to family members and Anton will research William Irons’s death certificate to find his official cause of death. We’ll also ask the investigators working with the opened graves if they’ve found Mr. Irons’s grave. Viv wants to claim the body and have it buried in his hometown. I would just like to be sure that Irons doesn’t mean something different when he conveyed to me he wants to go home.”
“What else might he mean?” Jeff asked.
“Maybe he wants to be buried near his wife or his child. We have to find out what happened to them. Did they stay on Nantucket their whole lives or did they move somewhere else?”
“How will you figure out what he means by home?”
Lin bit her lower lip. “I don’t know. Yet.”
While they finished their lunches under the brilliant blue sky, they talked about going out to see Viv’s and John’s band play, taking the kayaks out in the ocean on the weekend, and getting together with friends for a cookout.
Jeff checked the time and said, “I’d better get back to work. Would you like to come in and see what’s been done in the kitchen so far?”
“I’d love to, but I can only stay for a few minutes.”
They gathered up the plates, containers, and bowls and put them into the cooler and then Jeff led the way through the back door into the kitchen.
The old cabinetry had been removed, the formica countertops had been pulled out, and the linoleum had been ripped up exposing the old wooden floors beneath.
“Why would anyone cover up these floors with linoleum?” Lin admired the wood. “They’ll be beautiful again once they’re refinished.”
“When it’s finished, the whole space is going to be like something out of a design magazine,” Jeff said. “I want to show you the updated plans so you can see what this corner is going to look like.”
Glancing around at his tools and work table, Jeff tried to locate the paper plans, when he realized where they were. “I went over them with Dr. Mitchell in his den this morning before he went out to a meeting.”
Taking a look at his dirty boots, Jeff asked Lin, “Would you mind getting them from the den? I don’t want to traipse dirt through the house. I don’t think the doctor would appreciate that.”
“Sure.” Lin remembered where the den was from the doctor’s previous tour of the house and headed down the hall to retrieve the designs.
When she stepped into the den, a man stood at the desk with his back to the young woman and he whipped around when he heard her come in. His eyes widened and his face held an expression that implied he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
Lin recognized Dr. Mitchell’s assistant, Roger, and was slightly startled by the man’s reaction to her entering the room. “Jeff asked me to get the design plans from the doctor’s desk.”
“What?” Flustered, Roger tossed something he’d held in his hand back into the box that sat on the desk and flipped the cardboard cover in place. “Who are … oh, you’re the landscaper. Lin, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Jeff said the plans are on the desk.”
Roger glanced around, blinking, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to do.
“You’re Dr. Mitchell’s assistant. Are you unpacking things for the den?” Lin, thinking some small talk might relax the man, watched Roger while carefully trying to determine what he’d been up to.
“What? Oh, yes. Unpacking.” Roger moved to stand in front of the box to block it from Lin’s view.
Lin stepped over to the desk. “Did you notice the plans while you were working? Jeff needs them.”
Roger turned around and his eyes ran over the desktop. “I don’t think they’re here.”
Lin noticed the tiny bit of paper peeking out from under the box. “I see them.”
When she reached to move the box, Roger lunged and grabbed it before Lin’s hands could touch the container and his sudden movement caused her to jump back.
Roger noticed Lin’s reaction, but only said, “There they are. They were under the box.”
After scooping up the papers, Lin hurried for the door thinking how she’d love to see what was inside that box. “Thanks. Sorry to disturb you.”
Back in the kitchen, Jeff looked up when Lin came in carrying the design papers. “You found them.” When he saw her expression, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
With an annoyed tone of voice, Lin explained what had happened in the den. “Roger grabbed at the box to be sure I didn’t touch it. It was really weird. Did he think I’d push back the cover and look inside? With him standing there? Really?”
“You think he was doing something he shouldn’t have been?” Jeff took the plans from Lin’s hands.
“He sure behaved that way.” Lin put a hand on her hip.
Nicky whined and swished his little tail over the floor, kicking up a little dust.
“What could he be doing?” Jeff wondered aloud.
“He didn’t know I was here. He probably thought you’d gone off for lunch. Dr. Mitchell isn’t here either,” Lin said.
“While the cat’s away, the mice will play?” Jeff asked.
Lin said, “He was holding a piece of paper. He must be looking at documents he has no business looking at.”
“Was anything written on the box? Like when you move, you write kitchen or den on it so the delivery people know which room to put the box in.”
“There wasn’t anything written on the side facing me. There could have been something printed on one of the other sides,” Lin told him.
“The way Dr. Mitchell described his relationship with Roger, it sounds like the man has free-rein with everything in Mitchell’s life,” Jeff said. “Maybe Roger shouldn’t have that kind of access.”
“I hope Dr. Mitchell hasn’t given Roger too much access to personal information and possessions.” Lin’s forehead scrunched up. “
Sometimes people think they can trust someone implicitly and then the person ends up doing some harm that hurts the one who trusted him.”
Lin glanced out into the hall wishing she could return to the den to get a peek into that box. Was Roger flustered merely because Lin had frightened him by unexpectedly entering the room? Was he embarrassed by his fearful reaction? Was his overreaction the cause of his protective behavior?
“What could be in that box that made Roger act in such a secretive manner?” Jeff asked.
Lin raised an eyebrow. “Secrets?”
18
After they finished their work days, Lin and Viv met for dinner before heading down to the docks to get together with John and Jeff. The cat and dog snoozed on the rug in a pool of early evening sunshine while the cousins made the meal.
Lin reported the odd behavior of Mitchell’s assistant, Roger Price, when she went to the den to find the kitchen design plans. “That guy sure isn’t a friendly person. He looks at me with suspicion and distrust when maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be trusted.”
Viv made a grunting noise as she passed the bowl of roasted corn to Lin. “Some people are just strange. Roger sounds like he could be a troublemaker. Tell Jeff to steer clear of him.”
“I didn’t have a good feeling about that box,” Lin said.
Viv gave her the eye. “How do you mean?”
“It made me anxious.”
“What specifically made you anxious? The box itself? The piece of paper Roger had in his hand and shoved back into the box? Or was it because of Roger’s behavior?”
Lin’s shoulders drooped. “I’m not sure.”
“That answer isn’t helpful,” Viv kidded, and then added with a wicked grin. “Let’s look him up.”
“Who?”
“The person we’ve been talking about. Mr. Strange One. Roger Price.” Viv got up and got her laptop. “I know it’s rude to do this while we eat, but let it go this time.”
Lin smiled.
“Roger Price.” Viv tapped away. “Age fifty-six. Received his Ph.D. in biological anthropology from Columbia. He taught at a university in Boston for a while, then left the institution to do research. There’s a list of academic articles he’s written, some as co-author with Dr. Mitchell.”
“He sounds normal,” Lin said and then grinned. “Is there anything in that internet piece about Roger being protective of cardboard boxes?”
Not missing a beat, Viv replied, “This article just sticks to the facts. It doesn’t mention obsessions, compulsions, or fixations.”
“Maybe you need to look for a different article,” Lin suggested as she cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Taking a lemon meringue pie from the refrigerator, she carried it to the table. “Are we supposed to eat this now or are we taking it to John’s boat to share?”
“That’s for eating now. I have something else to take to the boat.” Viv stared at the screen. “This is interesting. Your friend, Roger, was asked to leave a museum for stealing a document worth five thousand dollars.”
Lin held the pie server in mid-air. “He stole something? From the place where he worked?”
“That’s what it says. The institution did not press charges and Roger professed his innocence and claimed it was all a misunderstanding. The document was returned and they settled out of court.”
“Why would he steal?” Lin asked. “What kind of a document was it?”
Viv continued to read the article. “It doesn’t say.” She looked over at her cousin. “Maybe he stored that document in the box he’s so protective of.”
Lin shook her head. “Let’s eat this pie and forget about Roger and his secret box.” As soon as she’d said the words, a shiver of anxiety ran over her skin.
Viv picked up her fork and was about to dig into the lemon pie, when she noticed Lin’s expression. “Why do you have that look on your face?”
“I have a feeling we might need to revisit the question of what’s up with Roger.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Viv said with a frown. “But I’m going to ignore it for now and concentrate on eating this pie. I suggest you do the same. We need full stomachs to deal with trouble.”
The young women left the cat and dog at Viv’s house and they headed along the streets of the neat, pretty neighborhood and walked into town to do some window shopping before meeting their boyfriends.
Even in September, the sidewalks were full of tourists and townspeople strolling around the brick sidewalks to visit the stores or pubs or restaurants. Some headed for the movie theatre and some to the ice cream shops while others went down to the docks to look at the boats and yachts.
“Have you felt anything from the ghost these past few days?” Lin asked and immediately felt Viv tense.
“No, nothing.” Viv’s voice was hoarse. “Have you?”
“Nothing at all,” Lin replied with equal parts relief and disappointment. “He needs to show up more often if he wants us to figure this thing out.”
“I’m okay with him keeping to himself.”
Lin didn’t really want to bring up the next topic of conversation, but felt she had to. “Have you decided when you’re going to have a talk with John?”
Viv let out a moan. “How about never?”
“I wouldn’t recommend that. The sooner, the better, really.” Lin gave a sideways look at Viv. “How about tonight? The four of us can talk and….”
“Absolutely not. I need more time to think about what to say.” Viv ran her hand through her golden brown hair. “I can’t do it tonight. I just can’t.”
“Okay,” Lin said reluctantly. “When you’re ready, we can do it together, if you want to.”
“Let me think about it.”
As the young women approached the docks, the lights of the moored boats twinkled against the dark night, music played at a nearby restaurant, and people’s chatter and laughter floated on the warm air.
The small and mid-sized boats were berthed at the first sections of the docks and the massive yachts were secured at the wharfs further out. Some of the huge cruisers looked like small hotels and some had helicopters perched on the helipads located on their top decks.
“Imagine being so wealthy?” Viv asked her cousin. “I wouldn’t know what to do with so much money.”
Lin kidded, “I bet you’d figure it out in no time. Anyway, you’ll never need to worry about such a problem.”
“That’s the truth.” Viv eyed Lin and with a half-smile, said, “We have our own special problem to think about.”
“Evening, you two,” a man’s voice called out. Bob, the charter boat captain, walked towards the young women. “Looking for a charter again?” he smiled.
“Not tonight,” Lin said. “But maybe soon.”
Viv flashed her cousin a look.
“Nice night. What brings you down to the docks?” Bob asked, with a pleasant tone.
“We’re meeting John and Lin’s boyfriend, Jeff, at John’s boat.” On their trip to Canter on Bob’s chartered vessel, Viv had told the man John lived on his boat in Nantucket harbor.
Bob walked side-by-side with the women. “I see John now and then. He’s a busy guy with all the real estate work he does.”
Viv heartily agreed with Bob’s assessment.
“I hear you and your partner are handling the landscape work at Samuel Mitchell’s new home,” Bob addressed the comment to Lin.
“We just started,” Lin said. “The gardens are going to look great. Dr. Mitchell wanted some historically accurate plantings incorporated.”
“That guy is very particular about what he wants,” Bob said and gestured to the outer area of the docks where the yachts were moored. “That’s one of his boats. A real beauty.”
Viv’s eyes bugged out. Even in the darkness, it was clear the boat that Bob pointed to was worth a bundle. “John told us Dr. Mitchell owned a couple of boats, but I wasn’t expecting something like that.”
“The doctor likes fine th
ings,” Bob said. “And there’s the evidence.”
“Where does he go in a thing like that?” Lin asked. “Across the Atlantic?”
“Anywhere he wants,” Bob chuckled. “I see him out for casual trips in the sound and in the waters south of here. The boat looks massive, but it’s very maneuverable and handles quite well. I’ve seen him around Canter a few times.”
Lin’s sensory system perked up and her eyes narrowed. “Really? Just cruising around?”
“I see the boat moored off the island on occasion,” Bob said.
“Why would he?” Viv asked with a tone of suspicion.
“He probably likes to hike around the island or look around where the town once was. I heard Mitchell wrote an article about Canter and the experiments that were done there.”
“He still has an interest in the place?” Lin asked.
“He must.”
“Have you seen his boat there recently?” Lin questioned.
“Yeah. I saw his boat there on the day I took you both to Canter,” Bob said.
“Dr. Mitchell was on the island when we were there?” A look of puzzlement washed over Lin’s face.
“It was his boat,” Bob nodded, and started off in a different direction. “Let me know if you ever need a charter again. Nice to see you both. Have a good evening.”
Viv said, “What’s up with that? Dr. Mitchell was on Canter the day we went there the second time? Do you think he’s still doing research?”
Lin looked to see who was around and then spoke with a soft voice. “When I first talked to Dr. Mitchell, he told me he hadn’t been out to Canter for years.”
“Why would he lie?” Viv asked.
“I have no idea.” Lin looked over the boats moored along the expanse of docks. “Maybe he’s researching again and doesn’t want any questions about it? He might be doing preliminary research on some aspect of the island and doesn’t want to discuss it in case it doesn’t work out.”
The cousins turned to the right to head to John’s boat.
Viv said, “I don’t trust that guy. If he’s spending time on Canter often, wouldn’t he have known about the opened graves? Wouldn’t he have been the one to report the damage to the state board of conservation?”
