(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  To Kill a Ghost.  The Table of Contents is here)

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The steps up to the third floor of the Goode Mansion seemed longer than ever.  I could hear the music drifting down the stairs, the murmur of people.  Each step was harder than the last.  It wasn’t just the pain.  Yes, there was still a bit of pain left over from the four broken ribs, the broken right arm, bruises and a bruised bone on the left arm, bruises and a bruised bone on my left leg and, well all of those other injuries from being struck several times by a heavy iron bar.  For the most part, they had healed, but there was still a bit of pain and tightness when I pushed it.  But, no, it wasn’t just the pain.

It was as much the fear.

Fear?  OK, maybe nervousness would be a better word.

I stopped at the landing on the third floor and took a few deep breaths, ignoring my complaining ribs.  In some ways this took more courage than entering the carriage house on that dark April night.

The ballroom was filled with people.  I walked to the front, the area were Abigail kept court, and turned.  I smiled at my parents, who were up from their retirement home in Arizona.  I nodded to my sister and a few friends.  I noticed Kunhal and other work colleagues. Continue reading →

(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  Lyndsey Again (phone call).  The Table of Contents is here)

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Tuesday seemed to stretch on forever, but there really wasn’t much happening.  Sure, there was work and all, but the reason it seemed to stall was the anticipation of seeing Lyndsey on Wednesday.  We did text back and forth a dozen times and talked on the phone in the evening, but it only made the wait a little more bearable.  In fact, I said as much to Lyndsey, making a joke about our foreplay lasting 48 hours, so it had better be a good climax.

Wednesday started out little better.  I texted Lyndsey for the first time when I got to work and we talked for a few minutes at lunch.  But after that, she didn’t answer me.  The minutes stretched forever as I anticipated her call.  The clock came to a stall.

In the early afternoon, Lyndsey texted that she was behind and wouldn’t be able to make my house by 5 PM.  She thought 6 or 7 more likely.  And then she disappeared again.

It was around 5:45 PM when I received the next text from Lyndsey, “I’ll be up at the mansion soon.”

“What are you talking about?” I texted back.  No answer.  I tried her phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

A few minutes later, maybe around 6, I received another text, “Looking forward to seeing you and Jess in a few.”

Again, she wouldn’t answer my calls and texts. Continue reading →

(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  A Phone Call.  The Table of Contents is here)

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A lot happened at the office and so I was about an hour late getting home on Monday.  In Amesbury, as I turned off Main Street, I was surprised to notice that part of town appeared to be blocked off.  I could see flashing lights, but couldn’t make out what was going on.  I went out for a walk almost immediately after getting home.  First, I wanted to find out what was happening.  I’ll admit it, it’s a small town and we are all slightly nosy.  But also, I had promised Izle that I would talk to her.  Despite it being Izle, I was very curious.  She said she wanted to want to warn me about something.  I had wondered if it were similar to Alexander’s warning.  On the other hand, she had mentioned Galvin.  I couldn’t imagine him being involved in anything, but he could be a stooge, just like when he was a lookout for the kids exploring the mansion.

As I walked, I thought a little about Alexander and his issues.  Mike from the historic society had written back that after thinking about it, he was about 90% certain that I was correct that Alexander was a black man.  It explained so much about his life.  He was a business genius and a good man in most ways, but something always held him back.  And no matter how polite he was, people took an instant dislike to him.  Seeing an issue with racism made all of the pieces of the puzzle fit neatly together.  Mike said that he was amazed that it had never been brought up before.  Later he wrote back and said that after a bit of research, he was 100% sure Alexander was black.  He was wrong and found that it had been brought up, at least in Alexander’s lifetime, but for some reason the historians missed it.  I wondered if the historians were as racist as the people 200 years ago, thinking that only a white person could be so successful and never entertaining the idea that Alexander wasn’t white, despite the fact he was often referred to as “the black devil”.  From what Mike said, it was even more than that, that people called him black all of the time, but people had taken it to mean his personality.

Walking into the center of the village, I discovered that Mill Street had been blocked off and the traffic rerouted.  I could see emergency vehicles down around the large mill building that housed Cooper’s Scientific Instruments.  I knew I couldn’t go down there, so I decided to do the next best thing and headed to Strickland’s.

I wasn’t too surprised that most of the usual guys were there, hanging out. Continue reading →

(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  The Library III.  The Table of Contents is here)

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I napped for about an hour after getting home from the library.  It had stopped raining and the sun looked like it was attempting to come out.  I puttered around the house, and by the time I ate dinner, the clouds had long since vanished.  I felt restless and I knew I wasn’t going to talk to Lyndsey, so at about 8 PM, I went out for a walk.

After doing my normal route, I decided to swing through the “downtown” section of the village.  It was beginning to get dark so I figured nobody would notice if I crossed the trestle and went behind the old mill.

I was passing a little hidden cubby in the back of the mill when I heard someone call my name.  I turned and saw the black man that had been haunting the mill and my dreams for the past few weeks.  He motioned me over to him.

“Today is my last day here and I need to talk to you,” he said.

“What?” I asked.  I tried to clear my head.  Nothing made sense.  “This is a bit odd.  Won’t somebody see?”

“Not many will see me, and as for you, we have watchers that will warn us if anyone comes close.  If they catch you, say what you want.  You were urinating on the wall or reading the inscription over there.”  He pointed to a block on the wall.  It had always been covered in ivy, but some of the vegetation had fallen away revealing words.  I had never noticed it before and wondered if anyone else knew about it.  “But you’ll have plenty of warning if anyone comes.  The watchers will know.”

“Watchers?  I don’t see anyone.” Continue reading →

(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  Invitation.  The Table of Contents is here)

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With a look over my shoulder, I entered the mansion. I let the door close naturally behind me.  The hall was empty when full of light, but as the light faded with the shutting door, Martha became visible.  When the door was completely closed, she looked full and solid, the middle-aged version of Martha.  She was wearing the party dress, I realized that Mike was right, that the dress custom tailored for the 15-year-old Martha fit the middle aged one very tightly, making her look both a little ridiculous, and slightly sexy at the same time.   We walked towards each other and stopped a little more than an arm’s length apart.  I pulled out my invitation.

“I’ve returned, but this time with invitation in hand,” I said.

“And you are just in time, Mr. Baxter,” she said.  “The ball has begun.”  I grew aware of the faint music from above us.  “I need to say a few words so you truly understand what you are about to witness.”

“Sounds good to me.”   She turned old for a flash, then returned to middle-aged.

“First, understand that you can see our world more than most of the living, so we can see you better than we can see most of the living.” Continue reading →

(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill.  The previous chapter was  Lyndsey 3.  The Table of Contents is here)

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Thursday turned out to be a great day at work.  You know the type; the ones were everything goes exactly right and it makes you feel that anything bad that has happened in your career was totally worth it.  That was my work day.  Everything went so smoothly.  Everyone, from the customers to the executives to the coders beneath me, all had good things to say.  I can’t imagine things running as smoothly as they did that day.  And yet I had a hard time enjoying it.  I felt that the gods were playing with me.

Near the end of the day, I sent just that in a text to Lyndsey, “Work was fantastic – the gods must be playing with me”.  She answered, “I know exactly what you mean :- (“.  I’m sure she did.

When I got home, I wasn’t surprised to see Jessica’s truck in my driveway, but there was a car I didn’t recognize.

As I got out, Jessica came around from the front of the house with a woman in tow.  After a half of a second, I realized that it was Amy Lansing. Continue reading →