Unsettled Graves: A Crossroads of Kings Mill Novel (The Crossroads of Kings Mill Book 3) (2 page)

Tonya wanted to roll her eyes but didn’t. She could have for all the attention Camden was paying her once the comely, buxom beauty Millie Taylor showed her charms. The traditional tavern blouse, cincher, and skirt she wore while working did everything to accentuate her positively perfect form in every way.

“This is Camden Phillips. He’s one of Dr. Branford’s exchange work program students from William & Mary.”

“Oy! The old school has some fine looking students.”

“Okay, Millie. Thank you, Millie.” Tonya smiled with embarrassment. What was Camden thinking? Actually by the gaze of his eyes, he wasn’t thinking right now…at least he wasn’t thinking with his brain.

“Oh, while I have you here, I want you to try something and tell me what you think. I’ve been working on some new…well, they aren’t actually new, they’re old but new recipes I found from the Roger’s family recipe book. Their pumpkin bread pudding with rum sauce was famous back in the day—or so I was told—in the recipe book—let me go get it.”

Millie fumbled with the truth and tried to cover up the secrets of her past for the sake of Camden was humorous. She’d be rolling on the floor laughing if it wasn’t for the fact he’d want to know what was so funny.

The whispers in between their ghostly laughter above was undeniable. She couldn’t help but let her gaze steal up to the rafters over the top of Camden’s head. There sat Dave and Claire Rogers enjoying the Earthly show from the crossbeams.

“What?” Camden stopped eating long enough to look at her.

“Nothing.” She fixed her gaze. “Just rolling my eyes at Millie’s antics. She’s a hoot.”

“Yeah, she’s something else.” He shook his head, laughing as he finished his soda.

He had no idea. How did you explain that the tavern was haunted not only by the two ghosts overhead but by the woman who owned the place…even though technically she was alive, again? That was a whole other story; one she was sure Camden wouldn’t believe in a million years.

Camden finished his day and rode the four miles along the pathway back to the development he was living in for the summer. Part of his internship with Dr. Branford-Miles consisted of a three bedroom, fully furnished apartment in the Kenneth Miles constructed subdivision of Milltown Bluff.

The community was a small village within itself just outside of the historic district of Kings Mill. A walking/biking trail, fully lit with artificial, old style gaslights, park benches, and doggie-bag stands along the way, made the trail a common avenue for the locals. Because the walkway connected with the downtown district and the MARC train station to Washington DC and Baltimore, it was ideal for new and old residents alike.

A small shopping district with a few essentials, a coffee café, Asian restaurant, hair salon, mail, and packaging store and florists were already in some of the suites with others, ‘coming soon’. The community center boasted a large indoor/outdoor pool, recreation, fitness room and yoga studio along with a lounge area to be rented out for parties and social functions. They were still adding more single family homes, but the apartment complex was complete. Many of the units were available for short term residents while their house was being built, or for the temporary builders Kenneth Miles hired. Or a temporary student working for his wife, as was his case.

Still, it wasn’t the beach and the pool wasn’t what he wanted, but he would have to live with it for the time being. He looked at his watch. five o’clock. The outdoor pool wouldn’t open until Memorial Day next week, he’d be able to get in a workout in the indoor lap pool before the after dinner swim classes.

The water felt good after being in slacks, stuffy dress shirt, and tie all day. April had informed him they weren’t so formal at the historical society and gave him a standard collared sport shirt with the city logo stitched on the left side. This and khaki pants or shorts with belt and loafers were standard unless he wanted to wear slacks and tie. He guessed Tonya preferred dressing up. Her pencil skirt and spring sweater ensemble made her look like the uptight nerd girl he thought she was.

The more time he spent with her the more complex she appeared, though. Maybe complex wasn’t the right word. Intriguing, perhaps? He was used to the simple beach babes he dated in the summer he met while working.

Athletic, gorgeous girls who were summer fun for a while. He stayed in touch with some on social media but nothing serious. He didn’t have time, not if he wanted to prove to his parents he was more than the sum of his football scholarships—which didn’t amount to a whole hill of beans. He’d stayed in football throughout high school to appease his father, working his way up to quarterback his senior year. They even made it to state but only because of their defense, if you really wanted the stats.

But his father, being such an influential name in eastern South Carolina from running for public office and ‘knowing’ people, wanted his son to make a name for himself in the sports arena. Mark Phillips was a big supporter of the local college athletic boosters. There were scholarships he sponsored, but Camden had burnt out of all his parent’s booster parties and fundraisers. Still, his football scholarship had gotten him into his choice of schools, College of William & Mary, but after hurting a kid and tearing up his knee, football wasn’t going to be his career. He didn’t want to go because of their athletic department; he wanted an opportunity to major at the best history program around. As much as he loved history, Camden thought the classes would be easy. His paper made it into the scholarship drawing. But what would people think if they knew he hadn’t really written the paper?

The water sluiced over and around him as his strokes became stronger, faster, harder. Was he working out for the sake of exercise or was he working out his pent up frustrations over the fraud he was. How long would it take before Dr. Moreland found out his recent paper he’d written, getting him this position, was a fake. It’s amazing what a few hundred bucks to a struggling college student could buy you. A written paper, but not peace of mind.

He broke the water’s surface only to come face to face with a young boy in dirty ragged clothes. Tousled red hair and a dark bruise shadowing his eye gave him a mean look. Camden looked around to see if his parents were nearby, but there was no one else.

“Hey. How are you?”

The boy stared at him from the side of the pool.

“You okay? What’s your name?” Camden tried to get the boy to talk. “Cat got your tongue?” Camden laughed, trying to make a joke. Still, the kid didn’t laugh. “All righty, then.” Camden gave a jaunty salute. “I’ll catch you later, kid.” He pushed off and made five quick strokes to the other side of the pool, surfacing to look back at the kid, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere. Maybe he’d gone into the locker room. The locker room was on this side of the pool behind him. The kid couldn’t have walked there in the few strokes Camden made across the narrow width of the pool. And there was no other way out of the glass encased building, unless he went through the Emergency door, but that would’ve set off the fire alarm.

Odd.

A mother and a group of kids came out of the women’s locker room entrance. That was his clue to leave. He’d done his laps for the day. Dealing with a bunch of kids screaming, crying, and carrying on was not on his agenda. He smiled at the woman as she lowered her sunglasses at him and gave him a flirtatious gaze.

Not on your life, lady!

#

“So you’re taking Virginia Branford out again? You two seem to be seeing quite a bit of one another, Dad.”

“Is that a bad thing? I thought you liked her.” Christopher Mead, Tonya’s father, asked as he tightened his Windsor knot on his tie.

“I do like her. She’s April’s mother. What’s not to like?” Tonya shrugged as she pondered over the online article on the lost Susquahanna tribe she’d been researching for her paper. Having depleted her resources for finding anything more on the tribe massacred by the Maryland Militia in the mid-1600s she was at her wits end. She had until the first of August to get the paper in, but she’d never been one of those students who waited until the last minute. “It’s just she’s not your typical ‘dating’ material.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” He straightened. “Do I look like a stuffed shirt?”

Tonya gave up on the daunting research and went to her father’s side. “Yes, you do.” She undid the tie and pulled it from the stiff white collar of his dress shirt, throwing it onto the arm of their slip-covered sofa. “Relax a bit. You two are going downtown Kings Mill for dinner, not the Ritz-Tyson Corner.”

“This is our fifth date. I’m taking her out to the Cozy Corner for dinner and wine.”

“It’s nice out tonight. Do the patio seating and go casual. The slacks are okay, but you could’ve opted for nice dress jeans, too.” She picked off a speck of lint from his lightweight sports jacket.

Her father wasn’t a bad looking guy for closing in on sixty. His dusty brown hair was still thick, his own, and only hinting of gray at the edges. Years of hard work, alcoholic binges, and climbing out of the bottle had taken a toll on his handsomeness, but he still maintained a bit of ruggedness women found attractive. Tonya had given him some subtle hints on dressing up. He was still uncertain the difference between business casual and semi-formal at times.

“Oh, just to let you know, sweetheart,” her father added as she fixed his collar, “I’ve been assigned as the lead project manager on Sean and Kenneth’s urban housing renewal project in D.C. this summer. I’ll be staying down there because of the long hours and the commute back and forth would be crazy.”

“That’s awesome, Dad!” Tonya was so proud of her father for his efforts of making something of himself. She thanked Kenneth Miles and Sean Lightfoot for all their support, but her dad’s hard work ethics had proven he was manager material on their construction sites. “So you’ll be home on weekends?”

Chris’ part-time hobby of blacksmithing had gotten him a volunteer position he loved at the Old Mill. Tonya couldn’t imagine her father not being home on the weekends to do that.

Kings Mill’s found father, James Addison had built and run a mill that had become the town’s namesake back in the 1700s. The original had been burnt down by one of James’s enemies shortly after his death. Kenneth Miles, a descendant of the Addison name, had reconstructed the mill into a working, historical exhibit that recently put the town of Kings Mill back on the map.

“I’m not sure. We’ll be working through Saturdays, too, so…I may be giving up my weekends at the mill. I’ll see how it goes.” He looked at his daughter. “Will you be okay? I’ve got all the bills set up on direct pay from my online banking, so you don’t have to worry about that and I’m transferring funds into your checking account to help cover any grocery expenses you will have…”

“Dad, I’ll be fine. I work, too, you know.”

“That’s money for when you go to Williamsburg this fall as the greatest history student of William & Mary.”

Tonya snorted. How good were her odds really? “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Hey, they’d be crazy not to love your paper. I know how hard you work and how great you are.” Her father stroked her hair lovingly.

“It must be something I got from you…all the hard work.” She grinned.

“Let’s hope that’s all you got from me. Just my good attributes.”

“I’m proud of you, Dad. You’ve really made something of yourself.”

“I’m proud of you, too…for being my inspiration, kiddo.”

As much as she loved her father, the touchy-feely man was still a bit awkward for her to adjust to with the praise and cooing. Her father had never been that kind of guy until lately. His battle with booze and hard-times had ruined much of their lives together. So the new dad concept was still something she had to get used to.

Her father changed the subject. “So what are you intending to do tonight?”

“Miss Vickie wants me to come over. There’s some basic rituals to help me focus on my abilities a bit more. She says I should try to hone my energies.”

“Uh huh…okay.”

              “You’re still skeptical? You were there, Dad.” Her ability to bond with the paranormal was an issue her father hadn’t quiet grasped.

              “I know, baby.” He sighed. “I just don’t—it’s not a normal thing most girls have to deal with. You’re tampering with the occult, spirits, hocus-pocus…I don’t like it.”

              “Vickie wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. That’s why they are guiding me, so I don’t overstep the boundaries. My abilities can be scary if not handled properly, Dad. I trust her.”

              “You almost died last time…”

              “Well, I didn’t.” Tonya said softly, taking her father’s hands in hers. “You were there. I had your love, not to mention my friends who saw me and Millie through the ordeal. Trust me. I think what’s happening to me is part of my destiny somehow.”

              A year ago, she’d offered to help at the archeological dig at the Old Town Tavern & Inn when Millie had first surfaced after two hundred years of haunting the tavern. Sean Lightfoot and his construction company had been asked to renovate the old building before it was considered an eye sore and torn down by the city to make room for urban development.

              What they hadn’t expected was to find Millie’s skeletal remains buried along with a stash of smuggled rum from the 1700s. Tonya ended up in a coma, becoming a vessel for Millie’s soul until a spiritual ritual conducted by April and her family of metaphysical women, was able to reunite the lost soul with the body.

              Her dad sighed. Her father clearly didn’t like what she was doing, but she knew in her heart her abilities were her future.

              Tonya had always been able to see spirits, even when she thought they were real people. At first, they were imaginary friends, according to her folks, and then her mother had her tested for mental issues. She’d been on every childhood drug prescribed by a psychiatrist to “help her deal” with her issues. Her mother had blamed it on her father’s side of the family saying they were all alcoholics, unstable
backwoods
people. She never wanted to understand any other side of reality.

              “Well, please be careful. I love you, peaches.” Her father kissed her reverently on the forehead.

              “I will. I promise.” Tonya straightened. “You be careful, too.”

              “With what?”

              “I hear those Wilton women are a ‘spirited’ group. You don’t know what may happen with Virginia.” She winked.

              “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of magic that ‘Wilton woman’ can work on me, if you get my drift.”

              “Ew…too much information, Dad.”

              “Hey, I’m fifty-seven, not dead, Tonya. I’ve still got a few years of prime left.”

              Tonya stuck her fingers in her ears. “La la la…I can’t hear you.”

              Her father slid his phone and wallet in his pockets before kissing her on the head again. “I’ll see you later.”

              She waved from the front door as her father drove away to pick up Virginia for their date. Tonya was delighted to see the transformation in her father over the past years. He’d gone from a worn down man on the brink of self-destruction to one of the top foremen in KJM Contracting and Development. A good job, a new outlook, and a little love on the side did wonders for a man.