Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) (12 page)

Ned looked at Abby. “Anything?”

“Olivia? No, not now.”

“She was here during the storm,” Ellie said. Abby hadn’t even realized she was paying attention.

“She doesn’t come out on sunny days?” Abby asked. And why would Ellie know?

Ellie shook her head, absorbed with dangling a long tuft of seagrass for the kitten to bat. “She only came out when she was sad. The storm made her sad.”

Ned and Abby exchanged another glance. Ned shrugged. The Great Hurricane? The house had been here then. But was Olivia here then?
One more thing to look into,
Abby thought.
But when?

“There’s peach pie for dessert,” she announced. “Anybody want any?”

Peach pie apparently trumped stories about spirits, and Olivia was not mentioned again.

Chapter 12

As soon as Abby opened her eyes the next morning, she knew what she had to do: talk to her mother.

Which was not going to be easy, for multiple reasons. First, she hadn’t seen her parents since over the Christmas holidays, now eight months past. She really had no excuses, since she hadn’t been working and was free to come and go as she pleased. She had told them about Ned, of course, but they hadn’t met him yet. In fact, her mother had been remarkably restrained, asking only in passing how her new boyfriend was working out. Maybe she’d gotten burned when Abby and Brad had split up so abruptly. Abby knew that her parents—or at least her mother—had liked Brad and thought they were a good match. Abby couldn’t explain to them why she had broken it off—because Brad was self-centered, oblivious to anyone else’s needs, and besides, he’d cheated on her with one of his so-called friend’s girlfriend. So maybe Abby could understand why her mother wasn’t putting any bets on Ned’s staying power.

Plus, her mother didn’t have a psychic bone in her body. She was a pragmatist, a doer. If anything, it was her father, Marvin, who was more of a dreamer, and probably more intuitive. Still, their marriage had proved durable, probably because they complemented each other. Which didn’t bode well for her and Ned, because they were both introspective and unassertive. But there was still that psychic connection, which carried a lot of weight.

Why did she need to talk with her mother? Not for female support. Not for any genealogy details—Rebecca had more or less handed over everything she knew she had, which hadn’t been much. Her mother had no patience for poking around in the past. She knew the bare bones of her own family tree only because it had been a rather odd one: her grandmother’s husband had run off at the height of the Depression, leaving his wife, Ruth, with a small child to raise on her own. Luckily Ruth had had some grit, because she had reverted to her maiden name and made her own way—and refused to talk about her husband after that, although she had verified, years later, that he was dead. She’d had only the one child, Abby’s grandmother Patience, who had died when Abby was too young to remember her. Patience in turn—scarred from her mother’s anger toward men in general?—had married but she too had had only one child, Abby’s mother, Rebecca.

So what do I hope to learn?
Abby asked herself. Her questions were about Olivia Flagg Ellinwood, Ruth’s mother, and Olivia had died in 1940, years before Rebecca was born. But . . . Rebecca was her only hope for finding anything like anecdotal information about the family—those stories that get passed down only within the family, that nobody ever wrote down. The ones that nobody wanted “the children” to hear, because they usually involved sex or crime or both. Rebecca might—just might—have overheard something that could prove to be a piece of the puzzle, but the only way to pry it out of her was to sit her down and ply her with food and maybe a glass of wine or two and happy talk until maybe something jarred loose a wandering memory of a half-told tale from years before. This could not be done over the phone.

Which meant that Abby had to sit down with her face-to-face. But she couldn’t go see Rebecca in Maine, because she’d agreed to look after Ellie, and she couldn’t just dump Ellie on Ned. And she couldn’t take Ellie along, because then Abby and her mother couldn’t talk freely, and besides, it was bad enough that Abby had brought Ellie to the Cape without asking Leslie first. Taking her out of state would be worse, and how would she explain Ellie to Rebecca? And leaving her alone with Ned wasn’t part of the deal with Leslie either.

Which left Abby with the option of inviting Rebecca, or maybe Rebecca and her father, to come down to the Cape. She could say it was to meet Ned. She could say that she hadn’t invited them to join them earlier because the whole thing had come up on the spur of the moment—that was true enough.

She could hear Ned moving around in the kitchen below—he must feel more rested now, since it was still early. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, and then he walked into the bedroom with a cup of coffee for her. “Good morning,” he said, smiling, as he sat down on the bed.

“Hey. You look better.”

“I feel better. I was wiped out yesterday, but that was my own fault—I was trying to finish up six things at once so I could get here sooner.”

“That was sweet of you.”

Ned was startled when his cell phone started to ring, buried in the pocket of his jeans. He fished it out and checked it, then looked at Abby. “It’s Leslie. Should I put it on speaker?”

“You talk. I need coffee first.”
You’re a chicken, Abby
.

Ned clicked to connect, and Abby could hear Leslie’s tinny voice even without the speaker function. “Where the hell are you? I’m at your house and there’s no one here! Not even any cars!”

“Calm down, Leslie. Daniel Eldridge offered us the use of his house on the Cape—he had an unexpected cancellation so it was available on short notice—and I jumped at it. Abby came out with Ellie a couple of days ago, and I joined them yesterday. We’re only two hours away, not in Egypt. Is anything wrong?”

“Here? Not much, except that you kidnapped my daughter without asking me.”

“Leslie, we didn’t want to bother you—you had enough to handle. You can talk to Ellie if you like. Or do you want to talk to Abby?”

“Put Abby on,” Leslie all but snarled.

Ned grimaced and handed the phone to Abby, who hitched herself up higher in the bed. “Leslie, I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you, but we figured you wouldn’t want to be disturbed. How’s George doing?”

“As well as can be expected. But you could at least have told me where to find my daughter. I had to go out to get some food and stuff, and I thought I’d stop by and say hello to her, and then there was no one there.”

And no doubt she had freaked out,
Abby thought. “Again, I’m really sorry. This whole trip came up at the last minute, and we grabbed it.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s all right. Since you’re already there. When are you coming back?”

“We haven’t really talked about it. Ellie starts school on Wednesday, right? So Monday or Tuesday, whichever you prefer. If that’s all right with you?”

“I guess.” Leslie sighed. “I’m sorry I jumped all over you, but it’s been a hard week.”

“When’s your son going to be back?”

“Probably Monday.”

“Can George handle it, having the kids around?”

“I think so. No heavy lifting for a while. So no picking up kids. Not that Ellie is small enough to pick up anymore. Is she okay with you?”

“Yes, we’re having a good time. We’ve been to the beach, and we saw a lighthouse, and went to Provincetown and Woods Hole. And I’m making sure she uses sunscreen.” Abby rejected the idea of mentioning the kitten—that could wait. Leslie had enough on her plate for now.

“Can I talk to her? Is she awake?”

Abby looked up to see Ellie leaning against the door frame. “She is, and she’s right here.” Abby held out the phone to her. “Ellie? It’s your mother.”

Ellie took the phone and said, “Hi, Mommy. How’s Daddy?” She wandered out into the hallway, and Abby realized she hadn’t warned Ellie not to talk about Olivia—Leslie didn’t need to know that Ellie was seeing ghosts in more places. But Ellie could probably figure that out for herself. Ditto with the kitten, but maybe Ellie would be smart enough to keep quiet about that too. She glanced at Ned, who shrugged silently.

Ellie wandered back into the room. “Okay, Mommy, I will. Say hi to Daddy, and tell him to get better. See you soon. Love you.” She clicked off and handed the phone back to Ned.

“Did you tell her about—” Abby began.

“Nope. Not about Kitten either.”

Abby felt a guilty relief: she didn’t want to condone lying, even by omission, but it was simpler not to get into all this with Leslie right now. “She’ll find out soon enough, at least about the kitten.” Abby glanced between Ned and Ellie. “I was thinking of calling my parents and asking them if they’d like to come down for the day, or maybe overnight? Like, tomorrow? Is that okay?”

Ned raised an eyebrow. “They know about us, right?”

“Of course they do. For months now. I’m sorry we haven’t had the chance to get together.”

“What about me?” Ellie said.

This was trickier. “Ellie, they don’t know that we’re babysitting you. And before you ask, my mother doesn’t have this thing of ours. But Olivia was her great-grandmother, and I’m wondering if she heard any stories from anyone else in the family that might explain anything. It’s pretty much a long shot, but you never know. Don’t worry—she and my dad are really nice, and we can just hang out, maybe barbecue.”

“Where is it they live?” Ned asked.

“Maine. Actually, it’s a summer place that my dad inherited from his side of the family. I never lived there, but they’ve been there for years now and they seem to like it. Even the winters—they did beef up the insulation and get a better furnace. Anyway, I think it’s only a couple of hours from here by car, so it wouldn’t be too much of a drive for them. Everybody okay with it?”

“Up to you,” Ned said. He and Ellie shrugged in unison, and Abby had to suppress a laugh.

“Okay, I’ll call. Mom’s a morning person, so I’ll try her now. You two can go figure out breakfast.”

When Ellie and Ned had trundled down the stairs, followed by Kitten, Abby found her phone and called her mother.

Her mother answered on the second ring. “Why, Abigail Kimball, I thought you had been kidnapped by aliens! How long has it been?”

“Too long, Mom. Sorry.” Their calls always seemed to start the same way, with an apology.

“And how’s that young man of yours?”

“He’s just fine. We’re just fine. That’s kind of why I called.”

“Something important?”

Like a wedding? No, not yet.
“A friend of his loaned us a beach house on Cape Cod at the last minute, and we were wondering if you’d like to come down for a day. Or you could spend the night—we’ve got lots of room.”

Her mother was silent for a moment. “What a lovely idea. Let me check with your father. Can you hang on?” Without waiting for an answer, Rebecca Kimball covered the phone with her hand, but Abby could hear her yelling “Marvin?” and then the rumble of her father’s voice. They conferred briefly, then her mother was back on the line. “Today okay with you? He says it’s a two-hour drive, so no problem. We can stay over, or not—up to you.”

Abby gulped. “That would be great, Mom. I’m so glad you can make it. We’ll see you later today—lunchtime, maybe? Here, let me give you directions. Just take 95 south from where you are, and then get on Route 495 and keep going ’til you get to Cape Cod, then . . .” When Abby had wound down she added, “And if you get lost, just call, okay? We’ll be here.”

When she had hung up, Abby felt quite virtuous. She hadn’t meant to keep Ned and her parents apart, but there had always been something in the way—Ned’s work, or spending a day a week with Ellie, or working on Ned’s tumbledown Victorian house. And she would have to work out how to explain Ellie in a way that made sense. What could explain why the woman who had fired her from her job months earlier would be entrusting her with her daughter now? They’d have to come up with a story. And maybe Ned could get a sense of her mother and why she seemed totally devoid of any extra-normal empathy?

Downstairs Ellie and Ned were clanging pots around and generally making a mess. “What’s for breakfast?” Abby asked when she walked into the kitchen.

“Pancakes, we think,” Ned told her.

“We got syrup yesterday!” Ellie proclaimed proudly.

“What did your mother say?” Ned asked.

“They’re coming today. They may or may not stay overnight.”

Ellie gave her a sidelong glance. “Is she . . . like us?”

“No, sweetie, I told you, she isn’t. She gets along really well with people—living ones, that is—but she doesn’t see the others.”

“Did she outgrow it?” Ellie asked.

“I never really thought about that, but it seems more likely that it was never there. I don’t know why. But she’ll like you.”

“What’ll we do?”

“I don’t know if they’ve seen the Cape, but mostly I want them to get to know Ned. They haven’t met him. So maybe we’ll just hang out. Is there something else you want to do? We still have Sunday and maybe Monday to do touristy stuff.”

“We should check the neighbors and see if anyone’s misplaced a kitten,” Ned reminded her. Ellie pouted.

“I know, you’re right,” Abby admitted. “I really don’t think she could have wandered far, since she’s so little, so can we limit our hunt to right around here?”

“That’s fair. Ellie, I’m sorry, but you can imagine how some other kid would feel if they had lost the kitten?” Ned said.

Ellie wouldn’t look at him. “Yeah, I know. But she likes us.”

“That she does. We’ll see what happens. We’ll go right after breakfast, okay?”

“I guess. Are you going to go? Or Abby?”

“Ned, I think you should go,” Abby said.
Let him be responsible if Ellie has to give up the kitten.
“I’ve got to clean up here, and make sure there are sheets on the other beds. And stuff.”

“That’s fine. Eat up, Ellie.”

Chapter 13

Rebecca and Marvin Kimball pulled into the sandy parking space behind the house less than three hours later. Abby had scurried around tidying, not that they had had much time to make a mess, and it had been pretty much spotless when they arrived. But there was always sand, which seemed to end up everywhere. As she walked out the back door to greet her parents, Abby wondered whether they had kept a go-bag waiting by the door, in case Abby had made just such an offhand invitation. She came down the steps and hugged each of them as they emerged from the car.