Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) (11 page)

“This is nice,” Abby said. “Ellie, I brought a bag, in case you want to collect anything.”

“Thank you, Abby,” she said in a lilting voice and darted off toward the waterline.

“Take your shoes off if you’re going to get wet,” Abby called out after her, not sure if Ellie heard. Oh, well—shoes dried, as did clothes. “Ned, is anything wrong?”

He had to drag his attention back to Abby, since he’d been watching Ellie skipping along the water, as so many children had done for so many years. “What? No, nothing. I’m not hiding anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. Nothing new on George and Leslie, but I think they’re both exhausted from all the stress. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise, because it’s given you—well, both of us—a chance to spend time with Ellie and get to know her better.”

“She’s quite a kid. I hope Leslie doesn’t hate me for the cat, but I really had nothing to do with it. She just appeared during the storm.”

“Maybe Ellie should call her Stormy?” Ned said.

“That’s an idea,” Abby replied. “Ned, there’s something else . . .”

She was interrupted when Ellie called out, “Ned? Come see this!”

“Hold that thought,” he told Abby, then loped across the sand to join Ellie. They knelt side by side, examining whatever it was Ellie had found—it was too far away for Abby to see what it was. It tore at Abby’s heart, seeing the two of them like that. They were so alike. If she and Ned had children, who would they take after?

Whoa, Abby, where did that come from?
Way too soon to think about children. They’d only been sharing a home since the beginning of the summer. Nobody had mentioned the word
marriage
. She had expected to marry her former boyfriend Brad, the one who had dragged her up to Massachusetts and told her to get a life because he was too busy at his oh-so-important job . . .
hold on, Abby—that’s ancient history
. Ned was nothing like Brad. But he hadn’t proposed.

But if things kept on the way they had been, it would happen sooner or later. She loved Ned, no question, but the idea of the two of them getting married and having children terrified her. It was bad enough sharing this connection between the two of them, but having a child of their own who no doubt would also have it? Combine Ned’s and her abilities and they’d create . . . what? A child who really could read minds? And from the inside? She was so not ready to deal with that. It was enough for now to get to know Ellie and see if they could somehow guide each other through this discovery process. Particularly without hurting anyone else.

But Ned looked so happy, out there on the sand with Ellie. His daughter.

She knelt and untied her shoes, then hurried to catch up with them as they strolled along the shore.

Chapter 11

Ellie collected a bag full of shells and miscellaneous beach detritus, which she spent much of the afternoon sorting through and categorizing, after they’d gone to Woods Hole to look at the Oceanographic Institute and had lunch at a funky small restaurant. Watching her both at the exhibits there and while sorting her shells, Abby wondered if Ellie might have a real scientific leaning. Of course, she hadn’t seen her writing or drawing, so maybe she had multiple talents. It would be nice if she had an analytical and curious mind, because that would equip her to deal with her “seeing” ability as she grew older. And, of course, it would most likely mean that she took after Ned rather than Leslie, who was much more of a people person, one of those who liked giving orders and getting things done. Good or bad? Abby thought that it would be helpful to get Ellie together with Ned’s mother, Sarah, and then get Sarah’s take on how Ellie compared to Ned at that age. Sarah and Ellie hadn’t met yet, but Sarah knew that Ellie was Ned’s child. She was guessing that he’d been something of a loner himself. Introspective. Observant. Methodical?

How would Ellie react if she learned that George wasn’t her biological father? Abby had almost slipped and said “real father” to herself, and that wasn’t fair. Parenthood was about a lot more than biology, and George had always been there for Ellie. From what little she had seen of them together, Abby thought they had a good relationship. But then it got complicated: did Ellie feel something unusual when she was with Ned? Socially she wasn’t ready to jump to the conclusions that adults might, but surely there was some unspoken awareness? Even as she was thinking this, Abby watched the pair as Ellie slipped on some wet seaweed and Ned put out a hand to steady her. At that moment of contact, they froze for a millisecond, looking at each other, and Abby could almost see a spark fly between them.
Oh, dear
.

Well, she wasn’t about to tackle that question now, not without clearing it with Leslie. And Leslie was busy with George at the moment, and no way was Abby going to add to her problems. She and Ned and Ellie were going to have a brief happy vacation, playing in the sun, dabbling their toes in the water, eating whatever they wanted to, and getting to know each other better—without asking or answering any awkward questions. Well, personal ones, anyway.

Ned’s energy started flagging by mid-afternoon, so Abby dropped him off at the house and then she and Ellie went back to Falmouth to pick up more groceries. “What do you want for dinner tonight?” Abby asked.

“I dunno. Daddy makes sausages on the grill sometimes, with buns and stuff.”

“Well, that’s easy. We should hurry up, because today’s Friday, and from what I’ve heard, half of Boston decides they have to be on the Cape for the weekend, and half of those will be buying groceries. It means a lot of traffic. You have enough books to keep you busy?”

“Yeah. There are more in the house, right?”

“Probably.”

“Is Ned your boyfriend?”

Where had that come from? “Yes.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“We haven’t talked about it. Maybe. Why?”

“Mommy said she knew Ned a long time ago, and they almost got married.”

“Yes, Ned told me that. They’re still friends.”

“I like him. He doesn’t treat me like a dumb kid.”

“Do other people?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, they shouldn’t. We should all pay attention and not jump to conclusions about the people we meet. And children aren’t stupid, just less experienced. You can’t just lump them all into one big pile labeled ‘Children.’”

Ellie gave a snort of laughter. “Could we make two piles, one for ‘Smart’ and one for ‘Stupid’?”

How could she avoid sounding like a preachy teacher? She’d often felt the same way when she was a kid. “Just don’t tell the stupid ones that they’re stupid, okay? Let them figure it out on their own.”

“What if they don’t ever?”

“Then don’t hang out with them. But be kind.”

“Yeah, right,” Ellie muttered, and Abby wondered if she was having problems at school. It was hard, the way she remembered it, always knowing the right answer before most of the class. It sure didn’t make you popular.

“Okay, we’re getting food. Don’t forget we need stuff for breakfast too.”
And cat food,
she reminded herself.

“Maple syrup!” Ellie crowed, and they dove into the market.

An hour later they were back at the house. Abby unpacked the groceries and stowed them away, trying to be quiet, then said to Ellie, “Can you find something to do for a bit? I want to check if Ned’s awake.”

“See if Kitten is with him, okay?”

“I’ll do that. I’ll tell her to come down and play with you.”

Abby climbed the stairs quietly, then peeked into the front bedroom. Ned was sprawled out on the bed, and Kitten was mimicking his position, snuggled against the front of him. For a moment Abby wished she had a camera to capture the moment.

Even though she had been all but silent, Ned opened his eyes, as if sensing her presence. “Hi,” he said. “What time is it?”

“About five. You two look happy.”

Ned looked down, as if startled to find he had grown a cat attachment. “I didn’t even notice her. So what’s up next?”

Abby lay down beside him on the bed. Kitten didn’t move. “Nothing much. This is a vacation, remember?”

“I don’t think I know what that is.”

“Is George really going to be okay?”

“Leslie didn’t tell me anything different. But I might have failed to mention to Leslie that you and Ellie were spending time here on the Cape. We had never talked about going somewhere outside of Lexington. I figured she’d worry, and she’s got enough on her plate already. You and Ellie haven’t talked about . . . you know?”

“For intelligent people, we’re having a heck of a time coming up with the right vocabulary for this. To answer your question, no and yes.”

Ned shifted, plumping a pillow behind him so he could look at Abby, dislodging the kitten in the process. She strolled off into the hallway and disappeared down the stairs. “What does that mean?”

“No, because we haven’t had a heart-to-heart about our special shared abilities, other than some offhand comments. Yes, because . . . we saw someone.”

“What? Here?”

“Yes, and it’s someone you know too: Olivia Flagg.”

“From Waltham? What was she doing here?”

“I can’t begin to tell you. I don’t think she followed me, which kind of means that she was here—when she was alive, that is. But that’s the first I’ve heard of any Cape Cod connection.”

“Wow,” Ned said, almost to himself. “And you say Ellie saw her too?”

Abby nodded. “So did Kitten. You want the details?”

“Is Ellie going to interrupt us?”

“I don’t think so. But like I said, she saw Olivia too, at the same time I did, so the cat’s kind of out of the bag. I told her who Olivia was and how I was related to her, but I had to say I didn’t know how she and Olivia might be connected. I wanted to check with you first.”

“Give me the short version. What did you see?”

“It was at the height of the storm yesterday. Dark, pouring rain, wind blowing every which way. Ellie noticed something on the porch, or maybe Kitten did first. So we went out onto the porch to look, and there she was, sitting in a chair in the corner, looking out to sea.”

“Did she see you?”

“No, not that I could tell. And she was older. Remember she was around twenty when I saw her in Waltham? Well, yesterday she looked around sixty. Oh, and she was crying. In fact, I wondered if I heard crying on Wednesday night, before the storm really got started. Ellie was asleep then. But later she told me she thought she’d heard someone crying too.”

“How did Ellie react?”

“Do you know, I think she’s used to seeing these people, although she doesn’t know who they are. She wasn’t upset—it’s happened before, probably for most of her life, although I doubt she could put it into words at first. Actually, I think we both sensed something the moment we walked into the house, days ago. The place felt sad.”

Ned lay back and stared up at the ceiling. He was silent for a full minute, until Abby had to say, “What are you thinking?”

He looked at her and smiled. “Well, on a macro level, we have a clear choice: one, we forget about seeing Olivia and have a normal happy vacation, or two, we try to figure out what she’s doing here. Which do you think would be better for Ellie?”

Why do I get the hard question?
“I don’t have a quick answer. She saw Olivia, and she knows the kitten did too. What’s she going to think if we refuse to talk about it and babble on about sightseeing?”

“That we have something to hide? Or should I say, something else? From what little I’ve seen, and what you’ve told me, children know when you’re lying to them, or being condescending.”

“I agree. Can we explore what Olivia is doing here without giving away too much?”

“Up to a point.”

“I’m pretty sure nothing in my genealogy program mentions the Flaggs and Cape Cod together.”

“So we start from scratch,” Ned replied. “With this house.”

“That friend of yours—Daniel?—did he buy it, or has it been in his family for a while?”

“I know his parents owned it, but it could go back further than that. The land records are in Barnstable, but I’d bet they’re online too.”

“And if Olivia was a guest, rather than the owner?”

“Then we’re out of luck. Unless, of course, you go through the newspaper archives in Falmouth, where they often reported who was visiting whom, during the season. Well, for people of a certain class, but I’m betting Olivia would have fit. They’re at the library.”

“Why do you know this?” Abby demanded.

“I’ve done a little digging myself. Not for the Flaggs, but for other families.”

“Nothing that overlaps with me?”

“Not that I know of, but we haven’t hunted down all those links. But let’s stick to this place for now, okay?”

“Hey, when’s dinner?” Ellie’s voice came echoing up the stairs. “Kitten is hungry!”

“Then we’d better go do something about that! Be right down!” she called out to Ellie.

The kitten was sitting on the counter when Abby and Ned arrived in the kitchen, and she managed to look pathetic, as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Well, Abby reflected, she might have missed a few meals when she was wandering around in the storm. “We did get some dry kitten chow, you know,” Abby told Ellie. “We could leave some of that down for her.”

“She likes the stuff in cans better,” Ellie replied.

“Why am I not surprised?” Abby popped open a can and put half of it on a plate, then set the plate on the floor, in a corner out of the way. The kitten headed straight for it. “By the way, this cat is not going to eat on the counter—there isn’t enough room, and it’s not a very clean habit. So, dinner?” For some reason both Ellie and Abby turned to Ned expectantly.

“What, it’s up to me?” he asked, laughing.

“Hey, we went out and slew the chicken,” Abby told him. “You can go all caveman and grill it. The grill’s in back, and it takes turning one switch to make it hot. Think you can handle it?”

“I’ll manage.”

After dinner they sat out on the porch, admiring the sunset. There were a couple of boats out beyond the spit of land that cut off most of the harbor, but none near the houses. In fact, Abby had seen only two piers or boatslips or whatever the heck they were along this stretch of houses. Apparently the owners, old or new, hadn’t been much into sailing or fishing or rowing.