Read Defending the Dead (Relatively Dead Mysteries Book 3) Online

Authors: Sheila Connolly

Tags: #mystery, #genealogy, #cozy, #psychic powers, #Boston, #Salem, #witch trials, #ghosts, #history

Defending the Dead (Relatively Dead Mysteries Book 3) (22 page)

BOOK: Defending the Dead (Relatively Dead Mysteries Book 3)
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Abby sat down at the table and put her phone between her and Ned. “Go ahead.”

“This is for both of you. I have not told Ellie about her connection to Ned. I haven’t found the right time, and she’s pretty young still. I’m asking that neither of you says anything to her. If she asks any awkward questions, tell her to talk to me. Agreed?”

“Leslie,” Ned broke in, “I don’t expect to see Ellie at all, so that’s probably not a problem. Unless you
want
me to spend time with her?”

“Not now, not yet. Maybe later. I want her and Abby to sort out this thing they have.”

“Leslie,” Abby said, “this is not something that I can wrap up in one conversation. And I haven’t been planning to jump right in. I want to get to know her a little better. If she asks any questions, I’ll try to answer them in terms she’ll understand, but I won’t bring it up. Is that all right?”

“I guess. What do you plan to do tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really made any plans,” Abby said, feeling guilty: she’d been off chasing ghosts. “What does she like to do?”

There was a silence at Leslie’s end. “Oh, God, I spend so much time at work I don’t even know what she’s interested in. She likes to read, and reads well above her grade level. She doesn’t like girly things like shopping at malls. Sometimes she likes making things—maybe you can teach her to knit or something. Do you know how to knit?”

“The basics. Look, I’m sure we’ll find something to do. When do you want me to meet you?”

They settled on the details of pickup and drop-off, without any further discussion of anything more serious. It was an odd negotiation, Abby reflected. Leslie clearly would be happier if Abby had nothing to do with her precocious child, but she was a good enough mother to know that she needed Abby’s help. They’d just have to take it one week at a time.

When Abby had hung up, Ned asked, “You aren’t going to drag Ellie into the whole Salem thing, are you?”

“No. Why would I do that? Plus, Leslie would go ballistic and never let me see Ellie again, or at least until she’s eighteen.”

“Good point. It’s tricky, isn’t it?”

“That it is.”
In so many ways
.

 

• • •

 

Dinner made, dishes done, Abby retreated upstairs, deliberately avoiding her laptop. She had a lot of information now, and a lot of it conflicted. She had a unique perspective, but was it presumptuous to believe she could add something to the ongoing debate? But then, she wasn’t doing it for attention or fame or money: she just wanted to know. Why not?

Ned joined her after a while. “Can we try something?” he asked, sounding unusually tentative.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, you know that when we touch, things kind of get amplified, at least when we’re seeing them.”

“Yes. Like we boost each other. Why?”

“I’m wondering whether you can share what you’ve seen—particularly what you saw today—after the fact?”

“You mean, like play it back in
your
head? I don’t know—that sounds kind of unlikely.”

“I know, but I thought it was worth trying.”

“I’m happy to try, particularly if it involves some skin-to-skin contact. Okay, that sounds kind of smarmy, but you know what I mean.”

“I do. And it’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

Touching Ned had been a joy from the beginning, once she had sent Brad packing—she did have some scruples, even if Brad was the one who had betrayed her—and then had overcome her surprise at the shock of touching, the first few times. She had to admit that the first time they had made love, the experience had been overwhelming. How did that compare to what she had experienced today? The circumstances were different, but they might be equally strong. She could sort of see what Ned was trying to do.

They lay side by side, in the dark. “What do we do now? Should I think about Salem? Or do you think about it?”

Abby smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Ned, I have no idea. I’ve never done this, remember? And I can’t summon up ghosts at will—they’re kind of linked to a place, and they don’t travel far. You know that.”

“Then is this pointless?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m like a human DVD—those are just impulses recorded on plastic, right? That make pictures and sound, with enough electronic equipment? So maybe I’ve got a file copy of what I saw stored somewhere in my head, one that I can share. Let’s find out.”

She reached out a hand, and Ned took it and wrapped his around it, bringing their twined hands to his chest. It was dark, and warm; a slight breeze blew in through the open windows . . . and stirred the corpses hanging from the trees. Abby gasped, and Ned’s grip tightened on her hand as he pulled her closer. Did he feel it too?

“Hannah, don’t do this,” Samuel said, trying to pull her away.

“She was my aunt. It is not right to leave her here.”

“You can’t help her now. It will go badly if the constable finds us here.”

“And my mother?”

“She still lives. There is still hope. Come away.”

Abby sat bolt upright in bed, gasping, her face wet. Ned followed. “Abby?”

“Did you feel that? See that?”

“I think so. Who where they?”

“Samuel Barton and his wife, Hannah. My ancestors. The bodies of the witches were left hanging on Gallows Hill for a while, to send a message to the people of Salem—they could see that hill from the town. One of them was Rebecca, Hannah’s aunt. Her mother was already under arrest, but she was in prison in Boston, not Salem. Ned, why could we see them? Salem’s miles from here.”

“They were touching. Maybe they had this thing too, and they amplified each other.”

“Which would mean this came through Hannah, rather than Samuel?”

“Or both.”

Abby went on without hearing. “And if Hannah had it, did her mother? Did all the Towne sisters? Oh, my God. No wonder . . .”

“No wonder people called them witches?” Ned finished her thought.

22

 

They slept fitfully, due to both the close contact that neither of them wanted to relinquish and to the disturbing images they had somehow managed to share. Abby woke up early but groggy and realized that she had to meet Leslie and Ellie in Concord in less than two hours. It hardly seemed fair to Ellie, to offer her only a befuddled Abby at half strength, but she wasn’t about to cancel. She slid carefully out of bed, trying not to wake Ned, and padded off to shower, hoping it would help clear her head.

She was downstairs in the kitchen with a half-empty cup of strong coffee when Ned ambled down the back stairs and dropped into a chair opposite Abby. “What happened last night?”

“Apart from the obvious? We—that is, you and I together—saw two people who died three hundred years ago, who were also together, and we saw what they saw. That’s the best I can do. Do not ask me to explain it because I can’t, but at least I know who those people are. See, it could be worse.”

Ned got up and filled a cup of coffee for himself, then returned to the table. “I’m embarrassed to say it, but some small part of me didn’t believe you before. I apologize.”

“I accept your apology. I’ve never had that happen either. If we had a rule book for this phenomenon, we’d be rewriting it like every other day. I’m so glad you’re in this with me! And your mother.”

“It’s a lot easier with a support group, even if it is only three people. Today’s your day with Ellie? You worried about it?”

“Yes, and maybe. She and I have always gotten along well, but obviously some things have changed, and it’s kind of like a minefield, with all the things I can’t say, or don’t want to say. I have to keep reminding myself how young she is. I remember myself at her age, and I was pretty independent, but I’ve probably also forgotten a lot of the bad stuff, and I have no idea what my mother would say about any of it. So all I can really go by is my own memories. As I recall it, I used to do some pretty weird things, like excavating an old dump, just like Ellie, or going exploring in some places where I probably shouldn’t have been. But I usually had one or another friend along. It bothers me that Ellie doesn’t seem to have friends.”

“I’d guess she feels that most people her own age don’t understand her, which is probably the truth. What would you recommend? A private school? There are plenty around here, and there’s money to pay for it. Skip a couple of grades?”

“Skipping grades might work academically, but in terms of social skills, not so much. And kids seem to grow up so fast these days! I looked at the girls who came in with elementary school groups when I was at the museum, and they looked flashier than I did at eighteen. It’s a whole new world—but Ellie seems a bit out of place in it. That’s why I want to get to know her better. It may be she’s just a kid who marches to her own drummer, or it may be the effect of this psychic wavelength. Or a combination. Or none of the above. I won’t know until I spend some time with her.”

“Fair enough. I’m sorry I can’t join you, but Leslie made it pretty clear that I wasn’t wanted.”

“That may change—don’t worry about it. You’ll be home for dinner?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing unusual on my calendar. You’re dropping Ellie off at five?”

“More or less. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

They ate breakfast, and Ned took off for work, only slightly late. Abby pulled herself together, cleaned up the kitchen, dressed, and managed to arrive at the parking lot behind the museum in Concord on time, although she spotted Leslie and Ellie waiting for her. Ellie said a cursory good-bye to her mother and hurried over to Abby’s car. Abby opened the passenger door, but she herself got out and called out to Leslie, “Anything I need to know?”

“Nope. Sorry, I didn’t have time to pack her a lunch, but I think you can manage. You’ll be back here at five, right?”

“I will.”

“Have a good day,” Leslie said, then turned and disappeared into the building.

Abby turned to Ellie, who once again had already fastened her seat belt. “So it’s you and me, kid. What do you want to do?”

“I thought grown-ups were supposed to tell the kids what to do, not the other way around,” Ellie said, a look of challenge in her eyes.

“A lot of the time they do. But you should never turn down the chance to do what
you
want, if it’s offered to you. If it’s too risky or too expensive or something, I’ll tell you. If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

Ellie took her time in answering. “Climb a real mountain. A high one.”

Abby nodded. “Interesting. I don’t think it’s going to happen today, but we can put it on the list. What else?”

“Go fishing for some really big fish? Not like a dolphin, but one we could eat. Just killing nice fish would be wrong.”

“Again, we could plan on that. Or whale watching.”

“That’d be cool!”

“I’ve never done that either, but the ocean is kind of far to go for today. Do you like cities?”

Ellie shrugged. “Maybe. My school takes us on field trips now and then, and my mom and dad have taken me to Boston a couple of times.”

“Old Sturbridge Village?” Abby suggested.

“Mom’s talked about it sometimes. What is it?”

“It’s like a re-creation of a town from around 1820, I think. All the buildings are the right age, and the people wear costumes. There are craft shops and a sawmill and stuff like that.”

As soon as she’d spoken, Abby wondered if she had made a mistake. Did Ellie “see” the past, the same way that Abby was seeing Salem now? Or did she see only people, out of context? What was context, anyway? She’d seen the girl in the cemetery in Littleton, but the tombstone had been there for a long time. Did Ellie see past or present, or both at once?

Ellie didn’t answer right away, and Abby was all but holding her breath when she finally answered. “That might be good. Is it far away?”

“No, about an hour. You want to try it?”

“Okay.”

Abby breathed an inward sigh of relief and started her engine. There was little traffic on the highways, and they arrived in just under the hour Abby had promised. Along the way Abby had asked Ellie about what she liked in school, and what she expected to learn in the coming year. She asked about books that Ellie read, and was pleased to learn that she was reading chapter books on her own. She asked about what movies Ellie had seen or wanted to see. By the time she pulled into the parking lot at Old Sturbridge Village, she felt like she’d been conducting an interview. Ellie’s answers had been polite and not too short, but they hadn’t been exactly spontaneous. And all the while Abby had had the feeling that Ellie was judging her—and finding her wanting.

“We’re here,” Abby said, and cringed at stating the obvious.

“You been here before, Abby?” Ellie asked after she’d climbed out of the car.

“Once, last year. I’d heard about it and I had some free time, so I came out to see it. I didn’t see everything, though.” And Brad had been too busy to come with her. Of course, that was just his excuse. He was so wrapped up in the present—the wonderful world of Brad—that he didn’t have time to explore the past. “Let’s go in.”

They walked through the admissions building and Abby paid for tickets. On the other side she turned to Ellie. “Which way?”

Ellie pointed straight ahead. “That way.”

It was a beautiful day to be outside, particularly in a place as charming as the village. The trees were almost completely leafed out, and a few clouds drifted across a deep blue sky. After a short walk they reached the town green, surrounded by a variety of houses, a bank, a store and a church—all transplanted from somewhere else. There were a couple of oxen being driven from one place to another by a young reenactor. Smoke spiraled from a couple of the chimneys.

“This is pretty,” Ellie said. “Did it really look like this back then?”

“Pretty close, I’d guess. I’m sure the people who put it together did their homework. Most towns two hundred years ago had a town green in the middle, with a meetinghouse or church, and a couple of stores, and maybe a few houses belonging to the richest men in town, who wanted to show off. I think they’ve done a good job here. You can’t see the highway or anything that looks modern. It’s pretty quiet. Maybe  every now and then a plane might fly over, but other than that you can imagine you’re in another time and place.”

BOOK: Defending the Dead (Relatively Dead Mysteries Book 3)
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