by J A Whiting
“The friend was in the house?” Lin asked.
“In the house, in the yard. Kyle talked about the man in a nonchalant way. I thought it was some imaginary pal that he’d made up.”
“It wasn’t?”
Donna shook her head.
“What did Kyle say about the man?”
“Kyle said the man stood at the end of his bed sometimes. Kyle was never afraid of him. The man seemed to comfort him. Sometimes, Kyle said the man would watch him play or he’d warn Kyle to be careful.” Donna smiled. “A few times, the man told my son that his mother wouldn’t want him doing whatever it was Kyle was doing. Sometimes, they’d just sit and talk about things.”
Lin sat up. “The ghost talked to Kyle?”
Donna winced at the word “ghost.” “Kyle told me he talked to the man a lot, but the man didn’t say words with his mouth like people do. He talked to my son, but his words were heard in Kyle’s mind.”
“So some kind of mental communication?”
“I guess so.” Donna fiddled with her wedding band. “My husband wanted to buy a couple of kayaks. He was gung-ho that the boys learn outdoor skills. One day, Kyle told me that his friend said that the family should not own kayaks. The man said it was fine to learn to sail, canoe, kayak, and swim, but that we should never own any kayaks.”
“Did Kyle say why not?” Lin asked.
Donna’s facial muscles stiffened. “The man told Kyle that if we bought kayaks, then his little brother would be in an accident and he would drown.”
Lin’s breath caught in her throat. “Wow,” she said softly.
“Yeah. Needless to say we never bought kayaks.” Donna shifted on the bench to face Lin and didn’t say anything for a few moments, then she asked with a soft voice, “Do you talk to ghosts?”
Lin was surprised at the question. “I … I talk to them, but they never talk to me.”
“Do they talk to you mentally like this man talked to Kyle?”
“No. They never say anything to me, not with a voice and not mentally either.”
“You can see them though?” Donna asked.
Lin nodded. “The air around me gets cold when someone shows up and then I see them.”
“What do they look like? Do they look like normal people?”
“They look sort of see-through or translucent, but other than that, they look normal,” Lin told the woman. “Have you asked Kyle what he sees?”
Donna gave a hard shake of her head. “I never asked him. It’s dumb, I know, but I hoped it would go away if we didn’t talk about it. I never knew how to handle it.”
“Does Kyle still see the ghost-man?”
“No. When we moved out of the house, Kyle never mentioned the man again.”
“You said something happened on the day you moved out?” Lin asked.
Donna looked away from Lin. “I was in the kitchen, fiddling with boxes. I looked out of the kitchen window.”
Lin could see the muscle in Donna’s jaw tighten.
“There was a man standing outside looking in through the window at me. He looked me in the eye. The man was wearing a tweed cap. He took it off and placed it over his heart.” Donna’s eyes got misty. “He nodded to me with a kind smile, and then he disappeared.”
“Did you tell Kyle you saw him?”
“No.” The word was barely loud enough to hear. Donna swiped at a tear that had escaped from her eye. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Did seeing the man scare you?”
“No, it didn’t. It was … almost … comforting.” Donna made eye contact with Lin. “The boys went to get ice cream. When they come back, will you talk to Kyle? Tell him you can see what he used to see.”
Lin asked, “Why do you want me to do that?”
Donna’s throat was tight. “I don’t want him to think he’s odd. I don’t want him to think he’s the only one. Will you tell him you’re like him? Please?”
Lin knew that feeling. To feel alone, different, apart from others. “Yes.”
Donna was looking over Lin’s shoulder. “There they are.” She waved her two sons over and introduced them to Lin, and then she stood up. “Joey, come with me to pick up the ferry tickets. Kyle, talk to Lin for a minute and then meet us in the line.” Donna and Joey hurried away across the pedestrian walkway to the ferry terminal.
Ten-year-old Kyle looked shyly at Lin. He was tall for his age, with shiny blond hair, and a slim build. The boy leaned down and let Nicky lick some ice cream from his finger. “Nice dog.”
Lin said gently, “When you were little, you used to have a friend? A man that was kind to you. He talked to you, but other people couldn’t see or hear him?”
Kyle’s eyes widened and the corners of his mouth turned up a little. “Did you have a friend?”
“Not exactly like you did, but I could see things that other people couldn’t.”
“Can you still?”
“Yes.”
A grin spread over the boy’s face.
“You’re not alone,” Lin said. “Other people are like us. If you ever want to talk to me about it, tell your mom to get in touch with me. Okay?”
Kyle nodded happily.
“Do you want to ask me anything before your mom and brother come out of the terminal?”
Kyle shook his head. “But, I need to tell you something.” He saw his mom coming out of the ferry office and waving him over to join her, so he spoke quickly. “I’m supposed to give you a message.”
Lin’s jaw dropped.
The boy whispered, “Dig in the shells.”
Lin’s heart skipped a beat. “Who is the message from?”
“My friend.” The boy smiled at Lin and then he ran over to his mother. As the family joined the line of passengers for the ferry, Kyle turned and waved goodbye.
Lin, her head spinning and feeling almost dizzy from hearing the message, raised her hand to return the wave, smiled at the boy, and nodded.
20
It was late afternoon when Lin and Jeff met at the Francis Street Beach off Washington Street to rent stand-up paddleboards and practice with them in the calm waters of the small harbor close to town. They’d considered buying two of the boards so they could take them to different beaches and inlets on the island, but wanted to try them a few times to be sure it was something they enjoyed. The afternoon’s adventure was only the second time they’d given the activity a try and it was clear to anyone watching that Lin and Jeff were not experts.
Feeling slightly shaky at first, the two quickly settled into a rhythm of balancing themselves while paddling and they moved side by side around the harbor admiring the boats and chatting.
“I didn’t work at Neil’s house today,” Jeff said. “I helped Kurt out at a renovation project he’s running in Shimmo. They’ve fallen behind and he asked if I could lend a hand for a couple of days until they get back on track.” Kurt ran a building and renovation company on the island and Jeff had worked closely with him on many projects.
“How did it go?” Lin dipped her paddle into the ocean and pushed it back to slide the board over the water.
“One day working on that house project would be plenty for me,” Jeff said. “I’m not looking forward to going back there.”
In the past, Jeff had always enjoyed working as part of Kurt’s crew so Lin was surprised to hear that he didn’t like this particular job. “Why don’t you want to return?”
“Kurt hired a couple of new guys. He isn’t happy with them so far. Part of the reason he asked me to work a couple of days was to get a second opinion about the new workers.” Jeff shook his head. “I’m sorry to admit that I don’t have good words to say.”
Lin asked what the problem was with the men.
“I think one of the guys could be mentored, but the other one, Les is his name, I just don’t know. He doesn’t seem to have a work ethic. He acts foolish.”
Lin and Jeff maneuvered their boards to the left of an oncoming kayak to avoid the possib
ility of a collision. The paddler seemed unable to move the small boat in the direction he wanted to go.
“Does he do good work?” Lin questioned.
“What Les manages to do looks nicely done.” Jeff paddled around two sailboats at their moorings. “But he takes a break every fifteen minutes. Kurt came by for a couple of hours and Les actually worked. He’s like a split personality, when Kurt is there, he acts mature and hardworking. When Kurt isn’t around, Les goofs off, makes off-color jokes, isn’t careful with the work, acts silly and childish, doesn’t try to do his best.”
“It sounds like there are different aged men living in his body,” Lin observed. “A late teen and a forty-year-old man.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like. It’s weird.”
“Good thing you declined the project in favor of doing Neil’s place,” Lin said.
“That’s for sure. With Les, I never know who is going to show up from minute to minute, the teenager or the forty-year-old.” Jeff couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe tomorrow, there will be a new person inhabiting Les’ body.”
A shiver of something ran over Lin’s skin and she tried to focus on what might have caused the sensation, but was unsuccessful.
“One more day and I can get back to Neil’s house,” Jeff said with a tone of relief. “I really regret doing this.”
Again, something picked at Lin and caused a flurry of unease to flicker through her veins.
As the time passed, the paddlers became more comfortable and began to move with grace and ease traveling past the edge of the sandy beach and then stroking back out into the deeper water of the harbor. Gulls flew overhead, colorful canoes and kayaks dotted the bright blue of the sea, and several smaller boats left the cove for an evening sail.
“What’s new with your case?” Jeff asked.
Lin glanced around to see if anyone was paddling or boating nearby. “I was going to tell you after we returned the boards. Something unusual happened.” She reported to Jeff about talking with the woman who once rented the old Cape with her family. “Her son, Kyle, had a friend … who was a ghost. Kyle could see the ghost and could communicate him. He was an older man.”
Jeff almost lost his balance and had to contort his body to keep from falling into the harbor. “That’s amazing. How old is the boy?”
“He’s about ten now,” Lin said. “He was four when he met the ghost. Kyle’s mother thinks that the boy hasn’t been interacting with the ghost since they’ve moved from the rental house.”
“But?” Jeff asked.
“But, it seems Kyle continues to be in contact with the ghost.”
“The boy told you this?”
“Not in so many words.” Lin dipped her paddle and turned her head to look at her boyfriend. “The boy had a message for me from his ghost.”
Jeff stopped paddling and stared at Lin. “How?”
“I think the boy’s ghost is my new ghost. I think it’s G. W. Weeks. Weeks must have known that I would talk to the boy so he asked him to give me a message.”
“And what was the message?”
When Lin told him, she watched the emotions flicker over Jeff’s face, disbelief, fear, worry, and then acceptance.
“It’s all so hard to fathom,” Jeff said as he took in a deep breath. “It makes me want to ask a million questions.”
“Me, too.” Lin held Jeff’s eyes. “Except there really isn’t anyone to ask for answers. Libby is helpful, but so many things are a mystery to her as well.”
Jeff gave an empathetic nod.
“I told the boy that I could see ghosts, too, and that there were other people like us. It seemed to make him happy.” Lin paddled her board closer to Jeff’s. “I know what it feels like to know something that others might misinterpret. I know what it feels like to have to keep a secret from people. It’s isolating. It can make you feel very lonely.”
Bits and pieces of images, thoughts, and words swirled around in Lin’s mind and for a second, it seemed that she might grasp on to something important, but as often happened, whatever it was, it turned to dust and blew away.
Jeff suggested they turn around and return the paddleboards and when Lin made the about-face, she took a look at the land bending and jutting out into the harbor and she knew the mounds of scallop shells were down the coast, close to the water, only about a mile away.
A sudden gust of wind blew around Lin and the breeze carried a heavy sensation of aloneness that was like smoky tendrils touching her skin, making her shudder.
When they reached the shore, Lin and Jeff hauled the boards out of the water and returned them to the rental place.
“Why don’t we get carry-out food in town and bring it back to your house,” Jeff suggested. “It’s a nice evening. We can eat out on the deck.”
Deciding to pick up meals from the barbecue restaurant to take home, they walked back to town, hand-in-hand, in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts.
Snippets of their conversation kept replaying in Lin’s mind like there was something they’d said while paddle-boarding that might be helpful to the case of the old ghost and the sailor’s valentine.
The ghost was clearly pointing Lin to the scallop shells, but what did the valentine have to do with any of it? Why doesn’t the ghost show up and help point me in the right direction? Why can that young boy see and hear the ghost? Being able to communicate with spirits would make things so much easier. Lin let out a little sigh.
“I’m dreading going back to the Shimmo house renovation tomorrow,” Jeff admitted. “That guy, Les, is so hard to work with, the way his behavior swerves from childish to more mature is kind of unnerving. You never know which part of him is going to show up next.”
Lin turned her head quickly and looked at Jeff with wide eyes.
Somehow she knew that what he’d just said could be applied to her ghost … but how? And why?
21
Lin, Viv, and Anton sat around his long, wooden, kitchen table. Queenie and Nicky rested in the easy chair that stood next to the fireplace hearth. Lin was reporting what had happened when she met with Donna Bigley and her son down by the ferry dock.
“And after he gave me the message, he ran over to join his mom and brother in line.”
Viv and Anton stared at Lin open-mouthed.
“That was my reaction, too. I was so surprised that I didn’t say anything for a long while. He told me his friend asked him to give me the message.”
“Incredible,” Viv said softly. “The ghost must still talk to that boy.”
“The boy’s ghost has to be the old ghost who visited you,” Anton said to Lin. “The boy’s friend must be G. W. Weeks. Did the boy refer to the ghost by name?”
“No, he always called him ‘my friend’.”
Viv said, “So when you told Kyle you could see ghosts, he knew you were the one he was supposed to give the message to.”
“How very interesting.” Anton pushed his black framed eyeglasses up to the bridge of his nose. “You and Kyle can both see ghosts, but Kyle can also hear their words.”
“Why doesn’t the ghost just tell Kyle what he wants?” Viv asked and turned to Lin. “Why bother with you at all?”
Lin leveled her eyes at her cousin. “Thanks a lot.”
“No, no. I’m not belittling what you can do.” Viv hadn’t meant to insult Lin. “I just mean if the boy can hear the ghost, why doesn’t the ghost just straight-up tell him what he wants?”
“It could be the ghost doesn’t want to burden the young boy with difficult things,” Anton said thoughtfully. “Perhaps, a gruesome discovery awaits under the shells and the ghost needs an adult to deal with that.”
Queenie lifted her gray head and trilled.
“That makes sense,” Lin said. “The boy is too young to make a sad discovery. I’m not expecting to find anything good under the shells. I’ll bet there’s no buried treasure hidden under there.”
Viv said, “We need to find out what is buried there s
o the authorities will handle the digging.”
Bits of information spun around in Lin’s head. “Let’s start with the assumption that it’s a person who’s buried in the shells. We can look for articles reporting on a murder or a missing person from the time period in question.”
“If it’s a person buried there,” Viv said, “then G. W. Weeks must have known him and that’s why he appeared to you for help.”
Something pinged Lin’s senses, but whatever it was evaporated before she could grasp it. She said with hesitation, “I wonder if Weeks killed whoever is buried in the shells.”
“Oh,” Viv muttered. “I didn’t expect that the old ghost might be a killer.”
“Shall we get to work?” Anton asked sliding his laptop over the table to bring it closer to him. “I’ve recently been given access to the library’s online databases for research purposes. I’ll scan the records and newspapers while the two of you start going through my books and articles.” Tapping on the keyboard, he said, “We’re in for a long evening.”
After two hours of searching, Anton heated up a stew he’d made the night before and served it in blue and white bowls with some garlic bread and red wine. “The limit is one glass each,” the historian tutted when Viv reached for the bottle to top off her glass. “We can’t take the chance of clouding our minds.”
Viv ignored the man. “This research work is clouding my mind. The wine will get me through it.”
The cat and dog received plates of cut-up stew meat and everyone gobbled their meals with the humans enjoying the food and the break from the tedious effort of looking for a needle in a haystack.
Returning to their task after cleaning up the dishes, Viv moaned, “Can’t we go to the police and tell them we suspect someone or something is buried under the scallop shells. Wouldn’t that be enough to get them involved?”
Lin and Anton lifted their heads and looked at Viv.
