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Authors: Loni Lynne

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BOOK: Wanted: One Ghost
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April jumped in clearing her throat. “Don’t you have your water aerobics class to attend, Aunt Vickie?”

James didn’t miss the heated stare aimed at the older woman from his delightful angel.

“Matter of fact I do.” She grabbed her bag near the door and waved with her fingers, laughing as she headed out the door.

“You’ll have to excuse my Aunt Vickie. She’s rather odd at times,” April said as he sat down in front of the plate of fluffy eggs, crispy bacon, and what looked like a soft scone.

James unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap. “On the contrary, I find her quite charming. She’s a woman who’s experienced life and is not afraid to speak her mind.”

“Yes, well she sometimes speaks her mind too frankly, I’m afraid.”

“I’ve learned speaking one’s mind is of great advantage. It doesn’t leave anything up for questioning.” He poked his fork into the fluffy eggs, sampling to see if his taste buds still worked this morning. “Did you and your ex-boyfriend speak openly to one another?”

“Jason?”

“Yes, you spoke of him the other day, when we met. Perhaps you shared a lack of communication causing you to drift apart.” He was so intent on eating he didn’t realize the awkward silence until he looked up to see sadness in April’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Did I say something I ought not to have?”

“No,” she whispered. “We just had different values.”

“Such as?”

“He didn’t believe in my gift.” Her heavy sigh spoke of the heartache she must have witnessed. “He thought my psychometry was a hoax, some idiocy I had made up to make myself important, or rather ‘odd,’ to him and our mutual friends.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “He even questioned my paper on the Salem Witch Trials, making fun of me and asking if I was there at the time.”

“The bastard!” James sat forward, wondering how she could have endured such a sniveling louse. “Did he not see your talents? Could he not honestly sense your true ability to connect on some level with the past?”

April smiled. “I appreciate your support, James, but you weren’t there.”

“I’ve seen what you can do. I’m living proof.” He munched viciously on a piece of bacon. “Well, good riddance, I say. You’re much too intelligent and kind to be shackled to a man who can’t find it in his heart to honor a woman such as you.” He stopped chewing. “Are there more idiots in this world who think such thoughts?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Intelligence is subjective.”

“Well, I hope you can keep me away from these short-sighted imbeciles, like your Jason.”

“He’s not my Jason anymore,” April said as she leaned on her hand contemplatively. “I hope I’ve learned to move on.”

“—and accept your talent for what it is?” James reached across the table to take her free hand, giving it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “Never doubt what you’ve done to me, for me, April Branford. You are an amazing woman.”

Chapter Eight
 

“So what are we to do today?” James asked as they walked down the street bordering the old courthouse.

“I need to meet with Dr. Freelane. I called her a little bit ago to make sure she was available. She is the foremost historian on Kings Mill history. She runs the historical society. Unfortunately, she’s the only full time employee and she’s swamped with moving into a new building the city received a grant for last year.”

“How is it unfortunate? I would think a new building would provide a great opportunity.” James stopped to look in one of the law office windows as they passed by.

It didn’t occur to her he’d stopped abruptly until he wasn’t there to catch her response to his question. She turned around to see him staring oddly at the lead glass.

Going back the few steps she touched his arm, bringing him out of his stupor. “What’s wrong?”

He nodded his head at the window. “Henry’s office.”

“Really? I didn’t know.”

“The last time I was here I had purchased a piece of land to expand to the north of my immediate property.” His voice was low and sad. “It was less than a fortnight before my death.”

“I’m sorry, James.” April looked up at the door sign for a local law firm. The front window was a large plate glass, still reminiscent of the antiquity needed to maintain historical status for Kings Mill. No one was in the lobby but she could see the receptionist peaking up over her desk watching them warily. “Do you want to go inside?”

James seemed to break out of his spell and looked at her with an odd frown. “Why would I want to go in? Henry is no longer there. Trust me, if he was I would gladly give him a thrashing.”

“Wouldn’t you want to ask him why he had you killed?”

He looked at her as if she was daft. “Well, of course I would!”

“Would that be before or after you thrashed him?”

“Before I thrashed him. The man wouldn’t be able to speak after I got done with him.” James growled menacingly.

April took him by the arm. She needed to get this man away from his need for revenge against someone no longer alive. “Come on. We have a lot to do today and I hope you can help me sort through all the documents I might be able to get my hands on.”

***

They had walked to the present historical society office, a small Victorian townhouse with the main floor used as a small museum and visitor center. The door was locked and a small note telling them to meet Dr. Freelane at the new location two blocks down was taped to the door.

Proceeding to the new building, they encountered a flurry of activity going on with contractors, engineers, and various other construction employees swarming in and out of the airy wood and glass office. April and James walked in to the smell of epoxy and fresh paints. They side stepped the whir of electrical drills and nail guns to approach a woman in her mid to late fifties with a severe, grayish-silver bun knotted at the back of her head. She was busy dealing with a construction foreman, arguing over where electrical outlets were supposed to go. The woman glanced up, holding up her finger for them to wait just a moment as she finished her discussion with the man in the white hard hat.

April looked around at the sparse area. The beige walls matched the neutral tones of the commercial grade carpet. Large wooden beams crossed the cathedral-style ceiling full of recessed lighting. It appeared almost too modern to be a historical society. But it was esthetically pleasing to most people. Truthfully, she preferred the musty smells of old buildings to modern facilities.

“Dr. Branford?”

April turned when she was addressed. “Dr. Freelane, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Please, call me Beth.” They shook hands. “Dr. Moreland has told me so much about you. I feel I know you already.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not at all. He speaks highly of you.” She turned to James. “Are you two together?”

“Ah, yes…” April hadn’t really figured out how she was going to address James but they’d agreed to use an alias for him while dealing with outsiders. “This is my good friend, Jim Adams, from England.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were bringing a friend with you.”

“I’m helping Dr. Branford out with some of her research. I have a bit of insight into James Addison.”

Beth Freelane’s historical interest perked up. “Really? How so? There isn’t a whole lot of information gathered on the man.”

“I’m familiar with his English background, not too much with his life in the colonies. I was hoping you and Dr. Branford might help me.”

Beth gasped and placed a hand to her chest. “Well, by all means this is a delightful situation. I might be able to piece more about our local legend together with some of your knowledge. Will you be staying long?”

“For now. I’m not sure how long though.”

Damn if that wasn’t the understatement of all time
, April thought as she let James handle himself with Beth Freelane. So far they’d managed to avoid any questions or incidents to put up red flags.

“I would be delighted to chat with you about what you know of James Addison.” Beth glowed but April wasn’t sure if it was with feminine interest or purely historical.

James took Beth’s hand, and as he had done with her Aunt Vickie, placed a subtle brush of his lips against her slender fingers. The woman blushed down to her gray roots.

She bore no wedding ring and looked like a throw-back to a Math teacher April had in high school who’d been teaching since before the Abacus. The only thing missing from Beth Freelane were the black, horn-rimmed glasses of the 1950’s.

Beth showed them to the back room where empty filing drawers were lined against the wall like armored knights of old awaiting their turn in battle. In between the rows of filing cabinets were totes, plastic milk crates, and moving boxes filled with old ledgers, wrapped accordion file folders, and random stacks of papers bundled together with twine and old rubber bands.

“Welcome to my Hell.” Beth waved her hand over the miscellaneous collection. “We’ve never had the room to house all of the historical documents over the centuries or the manpower to record them for posterity. I’ve put in for funding to have one of the students from Towson University come work with me next summer. Until then, I’m surrounded with mountains of files, overseeing the new building project, and of course, working with the Friends of Kings Mill Historical Society for the festivities this next month.”

“My great-aunt is on the committee, Victoria Snyder,” April explained her connection.

“You’re Vickie’s niece? Really! So you must be staying at the Samuel house.” Beth’s voice trailed off as if distracted.

“Yes. It’s convenient and I get to visit with my aunt,” April said bringing the woman back to the present. She looked around at the chaos Beth spoke of. “Are these the documents you agreed to let me search through?”

Nodding, the woman closed her eyes and sighed. “Be my guest. There is no rhyme or reason to them. Some came to me from city hall, some from the courthouse, and others have been brought in from law offices and other historical buildings in the area—family heirlooms, birth certificates, death notices—God only knows what you’ll find.”

“I’ll see what I can do to help you out a bit while I’m searching for the documents I need.” April turned to James who was standing by, dumbfounded by the mess taking up the large back room. “You in on this with me, Ja…Jim?” She caught herself at the last minute.

He shrugged. “In for a hay-penny, in for a pound as my father used to say.”

***

They stopped long enough to take a stroll for an afternoon spot of tea and warm scones at the local café. James gritted his teeth as April paid for his cup of Earl Grey and sweet. It galled him to have her spend another hard earned coin on him. A man had his pride in any century! At least he hoped a man still thought that way. Seeing the population of men over the centuries, he wondered if they hadn’t lost a bit of their masculinity. Why from the looks of some lately, they didn’t even have the decency to pull up their breeches in a lady’s presence. It was appalling. Their sires should have taken a strap to them!

“One would think we would have made some headway in all those files today,” April said as they headed back to her aunt’s house later that evening.

“There definitely is quite a number to search through.” He turned to her. “Do you think we’ll find what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. It would be sad if we didn’t. Not just for our sake but history’s sake in general.”

They walked solemnly into the empty house and removed their outer layers of winter clothing, hanging them up on the clothes tree. April touched her hair. The bulbous mass she’d pinned up had become unraveled over the day.

He enjoyed her braid and wondered at her change in style. He’d noticed Dr. Freelane sporting a similar style, but much more severe. Most women walking the streets wore their hair unbound. It would have been considered scandalous by the women in his day. But truthfully, if April didn’t care to wear her braid or bun, he would like very much to see it down, loose around her shoulders.

“I suppose I’ll go upstairs and get ready for dinner. I also want to check in with Kenneth Miles and let him know about today’s progress.” She started up the stairs. “Let’s say we meet back down here in thirty minutes?”

James looked to the clock on the mantle. “Very well. I too shall freshen up.”

A half an hour later, James awaited April’s appearance. He began to pace. It was good to know some things never changed. Women still liked to keep a man waiting.

He’d changed into the dark slacks and a linen shirt she’d purchased for him. It seemed a bit formal for what he’d witnessed at the diner last night. Perhaps he was overdressed for an evening out? He was perspiring, anticipating the inevitable and feeling lower and lower. It would be humiliating to know she was paying for another meal for him. He paced the confines of the dining room, waiting. He fingered his collar away from his throat. Was the collar of his shirt too tight?          

He didn’t feel comfortable going out and taking advantage of April. She’d done so much for him already. There had to be some way he could contribute and not feel like such a cad. James looked around the dining room. He would starve before she would pay for his meal again tonight. He didn’t give a damn if it was common for a woman to foot the bill once in awhile!

His eyes lit on the table near the front window in the parlor. It was small with a lace runner accompanied by a candlestick ensconced in a hurricane glass globe. Two side chairs sat at either end. It was a cozy setting for two people to enjoy tea or…dinner.

An idea started to form in his head. It was silly, frivolous, and she might not even approve. But damn it, he just might be able to make it work.

***

Silence met her on the other end of the phone. April waited for whatever Kenneth Miles would throw at her verbally after she’d told him she had nothing new to reveal. Biting her lip she held her breath for the string of profanities to follow. But nothing came. She slowly exhaled.

“Mr. Miles?” she asked gently for fear of retribution.

“I’m here, Dr. Branford— disappointed is all, and a bit tired.”

She could hear him sighing from thousands of miles away. It was nearly midnight in England so yes he would be tired.

“I understand, sir. I’m sorry I don’t have more for you at this moment. I don’t know what else to do right now. I’m afraid I’m at a stand-still.” Should she tell him about James Addison? How could she without him thinking her a loon?

“I need you to keep looking. I’m counting on you. I’ve been able to extend the hearings for a few weeks, but I intend to be in Kings Mill for the celebration. I want to be there to show my support since I’ve learned about James Addison and Kings Mill.”

BOOK: Wanted: One Ghost
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