The Haunted Past

by J A Whiting

  “The yard is looking great.” Tim stood before her gazing around at the landscaping work she and Leonard had accomplished that morning.

  “We knocked on the door when we got here, but I guess you were out.”

  “I had some errands to do.”

  “How’s everything going?” Lin hoped Tim would tell her what he was thinking as far as putting the house on the market.

  “The same.” The man forced a smile. “I met a friend of yours the other day.”

  “John? He mentioned he spoke with you. Are you interested in selling?”

  “He’s a nice guy and from what I’ve read, he’s a first-rate Realtor.” Tim bent to pat Nicky. “You’re a good dog.” When the young man straightened, he said, “I don’t know what’s wrong. Being here is making me unbearably sad, but I have no idea why. I’m going to go back to Boston for a while.”

  Lin nodded. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

  When the air around Lin turned wintry cold and the ghost of Sebastian Coffin appeared standing behind Tim’s shoulder, she had to be careful to keep her face neutral all the while wondering why the spirit suddenly materialized.

  “Maybe a week back in Boston will make you feel better,” Lin told him.

  Tim ran his hand over his cheek. “I was thinking I’d stay more than a week. I might make it permanent.”

  Lin’s heart skipped a beat when she heard this news. She took a quick look at Sebastian. “Really? Do you think you might like to go back and forth between the island and the city? Have homes in both places for a while?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is I need to get away. I feel like I’m longing for something, but I just don’t know what it is.” Tim’s forehead was lined with concern.

  “A longing? Like you’re missing something?” Lin asked.

  “It’s confusing. I’m having a hard time concentrating here. I feel off, restless. Yeah, I guess you could put it that way, that I’m missing something. I’ve got a business to run. I can’t be flailing around trying to get my bearings, trying to feel settled.” Tim looked at Lin. “Do you want to come in and have a cold drink?”

  “Sure.” Lin nodded. “That would be great.”

  Lin and Nicky went into Tim’s kitchen where he fumbled around in the refrigerator. “I’ve got iced tea, some seltzer, juice, beer.”

  “Iced tea, please.”

  Sebastian stayed right behind the man as he moved around the kitchen. Lin absent-mindedly reached for her horseshoe necklace.

  Tim poured the tea into tall glasses and handed one to Lin. Before taking a seat at the island with his guest, he took out some plain biscuits from the cabinet and gave one to the dog.

  “I love the island, but I can’t seem to settle in.” Tim took a long drink from his glass. “I feel antsy all the time. I’m not sleeping well.”

  “Have you had sleep problems in the past?” Lin asked.

  “Once in a while, but not like this. I have trouble falling asleep and I have trouble staying asleep. It’s driving me nuts.”

  “Maybe you should see your doctor,” Lin suggested. “There are all kinds of minor things that can interfere with getting a good night’s sleep.”

  “I will.” Tim nodded. “I thought about that, too.”

  “Are you definitely putting the house on the market?”

  “No, not definitely. I want John to take a look at the house and let me know what he’d suggest listing it for,” Tim said. “I’ll spend some time in Boston and think everything over.”

  “You have a good plan.”

  Sebastian made eye contact with Lin and shook his head.

  “Or maybe you could stay a little longer here and see if things get better.”

  The ghost nodded.

  “I’ll see how things go.”

  Lin didn’t think Tim had any intention of seeing how things went and she couldn’t understand why Sebastian wanted the young man to stay on-island. She gave the ghost a quick look of exasperation. “I should get back to work. Thanks for the drink. I hope you stay.”

  “Thanks, Lin.”

  Lin and Nicky returned to the yard where Sebastian was already waiting for them.

  Lin picked up an iron rake and pretended to be smoothing out the soil in one of the beds in case Tim looked out the window.

  Looking at her ancestor, she asked, “Why don’t you want Tim to leave?”

  Sebastian adjusted the collar of his eighteenth-century shirt and stared at Lin.

  Letting out a sigh, Lin asked, “I can’t force him to stay. I’ve tried to talk him into giving it more time, but he’s sad and uneasy living here. I’ve tried to find information about the house. There’s nothing wrong with the place as far as our research has told us. What can I do?”

  Sebastian stared into his descendant’s eyes for several long moments and Lin could feel something stirring in her mind … wisps of sounds … a whisper of a word.

  Make him stay.

  Lin opened her mouth to speak as the particles that made up the ghost began to spin and flash, and then Sebastian was gone.

  “Wait!” Lin called, but it was too late. The ghost was no longer standing before her.

  “How can I make Tim stay?” Lin asked the dog. “I can’t tie him up and throw him in the basement. It’s easy to tell me to make him stay here. What I need to know is how to do it.”

  18

  It was the day of the Nantucket Historical Museum garden party fundraiser and the event was being held in the garden of one of the old sea captain’s houses on Main Street. The beautiful, white three-story Colonial with black shutters was built in the 1790s and was located on the upper part of Main Street a short distance from the stores and restaurants in the hub of town.

  The original settlement of Nantucket, called Sherburne, dated back to 1673, and the cobblestones in the street had been installed around 1837 to keep mud from forming on the road. The lovely, tree-shaded Main Street was lined with Greek Revival mansions and seafarers’ Colonials.

  John and Jeff couldn’t make the early evening garden party so Lin and Viv went alone wearing their prettiest spring dresses.

  The rear yard of the house was decorated with strings of white lights strung overhead, music played, floral arrangements had been placed around the garden, and waiters served cocktails and hors d’oeuvres on silver trays. Men in suits and women in spring dresses mingled with each other and enjoyed the music.

  As the cousins sipped drinks and strolled around the gardens, someone called to them.

  Leonard’s girlfriend, Heather, and her niece, Lori, and a few other women walked over to greet Lin and Viv. Heather introduced everyone to each other and the small group stood on the stone patio by a water feature chatting about the gardens.

  Lori’s straight, dark blond hair tumbled over the shoulders of her short-sleeved, violet-colored dress. “What a fabulous garden this is. Heather told me there’s a house and garden tour in August. I can’t wait for it. I’m going to buy a ticket as soon as they go on sale.”

  “We love the annual garden party,” Viv told her. “We come every year and we try to make the house tour, too.” With a smile, Viv said, “Maybe when you go on the house tour, you’ll find the house from your dreams.”

  Lori gave a nod and a smile that seemed somewhat forced to Lin. When Viv became engrossed in conversation with two other women, Lori moved a little closer to Lin.

  “I’ve been having that house dream every night,” she confided. “Sometimes more than once a night. I wake up disoriented and can’t fall back to sleep.”

  “Have they become more frequent?” Lin asked.

  “They sure have. Ever since coming to the island to work with Heather, a night doesn’t go by without me dreaming about that house.” Lori pressed a finger against her temple. “When I bring it up with Heather, she just chuckles and brushes it off. She thinks I’m being silly so I don’t talk to her about it anymore. I swear I know that house and it means something important to me.” Lori made
eye contact with Lin. “You must think I’m nuts.”

  “Not at all. Why do you think your dreams are happening more often?” Lin wanted to know if Lori had a theory.

  “I have no idea. I love the dream when it’s going on, but it’s making me feel exhausted the next day.” Lori sipped from her glass.

  “It could be happening more frequently because you moved to a place where you’ve always been excited to live,” Lin speculated. “Maybe the dreams will slow down after the newness of living here wears off.”

  “That makes a lot of sense. That must be why I’m dreaming about the house so much.” Lori looked wistfully around at the gardens. “I wish I could find it. Maybe it doesn’t even exist. I always wonder if I was in it once as a child. Maybe the house has nothing to do with Nantucket. It may very well be somewhere else I went when I was very little.”

  “That’s certainly possible,” Lin said. “I bet you’ll find it one day.”

  Lori smiled. “That would be my lucky day. Then maybe my dreams will stop and I won’t be so tired the next morning. I wish I knew what the outside of the house looked like. I could drive around and look for it.”

  “Try thinking about wanting to see the outside of the place before you fall asleep,” Lin suggested. “The memory of it could be buried deep in your subconscious. The image of the outside of the home might bubble up into your mind.”

  Lori tilted her head slightly to the side. “You take me seriously.”

  “Sure, I do,” Lin chuckled.

  “Well, most people don’t. They think I’m making too much of a silly dream.”

  “Dreams aren’t silly,” Lin said. “They can tell us a lot about what’s going on in our lives … if we listen to them. They help us process things that happened during the day. They help us store memories. Some researchers think dreams help us solve problems, make connections, help us be more creative, help us process our emotions.”

  “So why am I always dreaming about this house? What does it mean?”

  “I’m not an interpreter.” Lin shrugged. “But on the surface, it seems like the house makes you feel safe. It’s a place where you feel loved, appreciated, peaceful.”

  “All those things, yes.” Lori nodded.

  “It’s a lovely place to go after a busy or stressful day. It’s a retreat for your heart and soul. It’s a place where you belong,” Lin told her. “Everyone would love a place like that.”

  Lori’s eyes teared up, but she blinked them away. “You describe it so perfectly. That’s exactly how I feel in the dream.” She brushed at her eyes and laughed. “I need to find that house.”

  Lin chuckled. “Well, when you find it, don’t forget to invite me over.”

  Viv and Lin sat at a small table at the edge of the garden enjoying scones, strawberries, and whipped cream.

  Viv licked her fork. “Yum. I’m in heaven.”

  Lin gave her cousin a little kick under the table. “Licking your fork in public is rude. If anyone sees you, we’ll be banned from coming next year.”

  Viv lifted another bite of the scone to her lips. “This dessert is so good I forgot my manners.”

  “I guess that’s a solid defense,” Lin laughed. “The organizers of the garden party will forgive your lapse in good behavior.”

  Libby Hartnett, wearing an ankle-length, cream-colored dress and matching long sweater, came by and sat down at the cousins’ table. “This event is packed. In the future, they’re going to have to split the evening into two nights to accommodate all the people who want to attend.”

  “I didn’t even know you were here,” Lin said. “I didn’t see you in the crowd.”

  “That’s what I mean. It’s becoming much too crowded to be enjoyable. Two evenings with a manageable amount of guests would be much better.” Libby set down her drink and looked pointedly at Lin. “What’s going on. Is anything new?”

  Lin told Libby that Tim Pierce might be planning to sell the Colonial.

  “That would be a shame,” Libby said.

  “And this morning I saw Sebastian at Tim’s house when I was there. He spoke to my mind. He wants me to stop Tim from leaving the island.”

  Libby’s eyes grew wide. “Did Sebastian suggest how you might go about forcing the man to stay?”

  “No, he did not.”

  Leaning back in her chair, the older woman let out a sigh. “Why does Sebastian want Tim to stay here so badly?”

  Viv leaned forward. “This is one of my chief complaints … about ghosts, not in general. If Sebastian is so determined to have Tim remain here, couldn’t he give Lin some help with how to get him to stay?”

  “We must deal with the cards we are given, Vivian,” Libby told her. “Complaining about it won’t help.”

  Viv sipped from her drink. “Somehow, complaining does help me.”

  “I have a friend visiting from the mainland soon.” Libby addressed the information to Lin. “She might prove helpful to you. When she arrives, I’ll have you meet her. She knows a few things about ghosts.”

  “Okay, good. We can use all the help we can get.” Lin nodded.

  “Have you seen Ezra or Abigail again?” Libby asked.

  “I haven’t. They’ve gone quiet,” Lin said.

  Libby tapped her chin with her index finger. “They’ll be back. Or one of them will, at least.”

  “Maybe they found each other,” Viv said hopefully.

  “If they did, they would have shown themselves to Lin so she’d know they were together,” Libby explained. “They’re still apart. I’m sure of it.”

  Lin fiddled with the end of a strand of her hair. “For some reason, I have a funny feeling.”

  “Funny how?” Viv asked suspiciously.

  “Like time is running out.” Lin’s face was serious. “Like if Ezra and Abigail don’t find each other soon, it will be too late for them.”

  Viv’s expression changed to one of alarm. “Oh, no. How much time do they have left?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s very long. A week?”

  “This is terrible,” Viv worried. “Can you get that tapping table back and tell them to hurry up?”

  “I don’t think that will help.” Lin looked down at her empty dessert plate.

  “What will help?” Viv questioned.

  “I don’t know.” Lin shrugged helplessly. “I’m good for nothing on this case.” A chill washed over Lin and as she rubbed her hand on her arms to rid them of goosebumps, she saw the shimmering ghost of Emily Witchard Coffin standing in the middle of the garden at the back of the yard.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Carolin,” Libby said. “You mustn’t give up. You know more than you think, and you’ll discover what you need to do in time to help the ghosts.” The woman put her hand over Lin’s. “We’re lucky to have you here with us.”

  Emily nodded and smiled sweetly at Lin.

  19

  Lin and John met in front of Tim’s Colonial home.

  When John took out a key as they walked down the brick walkway to the front door, Lin asked, “Why do you have a key? Where’s Tim?”

  “Tim flew back to Boston today.”

  Lin almost jumped out of her skin. “What? He’s gone?”

  “Only for the day. He’ll be back late tonight. He gave me the key so I could look around the house while he’s gone.” John pushed open the door and they entered into the foyer.

  The wood floor gleamed and a pewter and crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling sparkled its light onto the entryway. An antique side table stood on the left wall with a painting of a sailing ship positioned over it. The carved wooden staircase stood to the right and there were two sitting rooms on each side of the foyer.

  “It’s a beautiful entryway.” Lin admired the details on the staircase. “It’s a grand welcome to the home.”

  “You sound like a Realtor.” John wrote some notes on his tablet before walking into the sitting room on the left.

  A fireplace gra
ced one wall and a rug in soft shades of green, blue, and rose covered the floor. The high ceilings gave the room an elegant, spacious feeling. The room to the right of the foyer was similar in layout and furnishings, and Lin noticed that the tilt table had been placed against the wall near the windows.

  When she walked over and gently placed her hand on the table, she couldn’t feel any energy coming off of it. Everything about it was calm. She couldn’t sense any ghostly activity near the piece of furniture.

  Lin and John walked past a library and a dining room before entering the huge kitchen.

  “This is going to be a big selling feature,” John said. “The cabinetry was done by a well-known company and they must have cost an arm and a leg. The granite is top-notch, the wood floors look great, the kitchen island is enormous, and take a look at the breakfast space. Those floor-to-ceiling windows bring in a ton of natural light. People are going to go nuts for this house. I bet it will sell fast once it’s listed.”

  Lin groaned. “Don’t entice Tim into selling with a statement like that.”

  “Why do you care if Tim sells this house and leaves the island?” John asked as he made some notes about the kitchen and took some pictures with his phone. “You barely know him.”

  Lin was about to speak, but she closed her mouth when she realized she didn’t have a good answer. Why do I care if he leaves?

  She thought about the mental message Sebastian sent her about not letting Tim leave the island.

  Why does Tim need to stay? Lin stood still as her heart began to race. Is Tim important to Ezra and Abigail being able to find each other? But how? What would he need to do to enable the ghosts to meet again?

  Lin’s mind was racing from one improbable possibility to another. This used to be Ezra and Abigail’s home. Is there some way to get both ghosts back here at the same time? Why would that require Tim to stay on Nantucket?

  “I don’t know why I’d like Tim to stay,” Lin admitted. “He’s a nice guy and it would be a shame for him to part with this house, but maybe that has nothing to do with anything. Maybe he has to be here to help the ghosts. Maybe Ezra and Abigail could find one another here, but I don’t know what role Tim would play in bringing them back together. All I know is Sebastian told me not to let Tim leave.”