Gem of a Ghost: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery (16 page)

The building in the photo was large and beautiful, with a white steeple and tall white pillars. “Too grand.”

“Where exactly did you first learn of this library you’re seeking?”

Emma ignored his question and went back to the search page to investigate the other suggestion—a Dimmick Library in Pennsylvania. The home page was green and offered up a lot of information, such as hours and services. She scrolled down until she found a photo of the building.

“That’s it!” Emma squealed. “That’s the building I saw in my dream.”

“Are you sure?” asked Granny.

“I’m positive.”

Quinn backed away and moved around the desk. He took his seat and stared at Emma, his eyes brimming with curiosity, his mouth pursed. “A dream? You saw that library in a dream? You said you’d read about it somewhere.”

Emma looked down at her hands. The cat was out of the bag. Would he think her nuts? Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and met his stare. “It was a dream, Dr. Keenan. I saw this place in a dream, a rather disturbing one. Considering what my show is about, you shouldn’t be surprised.”

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other in amused relaxation. “On the contrary, I’m not. I’m curious. Tell me what else you saw.”

Emma didn’t answer. Instead, she studied the photo on the web page. “It says here it’s located in Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania.”
Pennsylvania
. Mr. Sachman had said his friend had purchased the original ring from somewhere back east. The dots were beginning to connect.

She looked across the desk at Quinn. “If memory serves me, Jim Thorpe was from Oklahoma. Why would a town in Pennsylvania be named after him?”

“After he died, his remains were sold to the town,” Quinn explained. “They constructed a memorial to him and renamed the town. Probably some sort of bid to bring in tourists.”

“You know this place?” Her surprise was short-lived as she remembered he was originally from Pennsylvania.

“I’ve been there. It’s a charming historical town near the Poconos. It was called Mauch Chunk long before it became Jim Thorpe, and it has a very interesting history.”

Mauch Chunk—the two words flashed before Emma’s memory like a neon sign. They were the words she had seen on the sign at the train station.

Like sparrows fleeing a hawk, Emma’s fingers flew over the keyboard of her computer until they located the website for the town. A menu of links was listed on the left-hand side. One link was for a photo gallery. A quick click and she was face to face with photos of the town. She scrolled through them, stopping at one in particular. It was the street she’d walked down in her dream. A few photos later, she saw the hotel with the iron grill work, then the train station and the clock tower.

She let the slide show of Jim Thorpe photos play, one after the other, while Quinn and Granny watched her in silence. Something inside Emma stirred with each photo. She’d been here before—maybe not physically, but she’d seen this town in the depths of Addy’s ring.

When the slide show was done, Emma clicked back several photos until she saw the one for the Old Jail Museum. She hadn’t seen the outside of the jail in her dream, only the inside. Going back to the town’s website, she navigated the link to historic attractions. From there she found the website for the Old Jail Museum. As soon as she viewed the photos, she let out a gasp.

Quinn shot forward. “You okay?”

Granny put her face close to Emma’s. “Emma, what is it?”

“Granny,” she said, tapping the computer screen and totally forgetting about Quinn, “I must go here.”

“Are you all right, Emma?” Quinn asked again as he came around to her side of the desk and stood next to her. His eyes scanned the computer screen, taking in the photos of the dank, dirty prison. “This is the old jail in Jim Thorpe. It’s a museum now.”

Goose bumps the size of small green peas broke out on Emma’s arms as she navigated through the website, finding even more chilling photos of the prison. One showed a wooden gallows, another a hangman’s noose. She started shivering.

“Are you alone, Granny?” she asked, still not caring if Quinn heard her or not.

“Yes, I am, Emma. Whatever is making you shiver is coming from those photos. Is that the jail from your dream?”

“Yes, it is.” She pointed to one of the cell photos. “I was inside one of these cells.”

Quinn looked around Emma’s small office. He saw nothing outside of generic furniture. “Who are you speaking to, Emma?”

Dragging her attention away from the screen to Quinn, she said with the bluntness of a karate chop, “The ghost of my great-great-great-grandmother.”

She waited for him to challenge her, to show disbelief or mockery, but instead Quinn studied her face again, then reached out and touched it. It was a light touch, just the tip of two fingers against her smooth left cheek, as if she’d disappear before his eyes if he dared to press harder. She didn’t move away, but she didn’t encourage him. Sensing he was trespassing, he removed his hand.

“But you said you’ve never been to Jim Thorpe.”

“I haven’t,” she affirmed. “I saw it in a dream just last night.”

Quinn squatted down in front of Emma. After a brief hesitation, he took one of her hands in one of his and held it like a fragile egg. She didn’t pull away. “Tell me about it, Emma. Tell me about the dream.”

When she hesitated, he gave her a smile of encouragement. “In my line of work, I’ve seen many strange and bizarre things. I’ve met many people like yourself all around the world—people who have connections to other worlds and beings.”

He pointed to the computer screen with his free hand. “That prison has a very specific history. In the late 1870s, unjustly accused and convicted men were hanged there, railroaded by the wealthy owners of the mines in which they worked. They were called the Molly Maguires. Ever hear of them?”

“I sure did,” Granny said. “It was in the newspapers even in Julian. It happened several years before I was hanged myself. The papers said those Irish men were traitors and conspirators—downright criminals.”

“Granny said the men were convicted criminals.”

“They were working men speaking out for better conditions in the mines. They wanted fair treatment and better wages to support their families. The owners of the mines squashed them like bugs and labeled them murderers and criminals. The investigations, arrests, and even the trials were all handled by people connected to the mining companies.”

What did hanged miners have to do with Addy and her vengeful behavior? Emma couldn’t see the connection. “There were men in my dream. The ghosts of men in dirty work clothes. I was inside a cell like this one, and they came through the walls at me.”

“A cell like that one there?” He tapped one of the photos.

“Yes, there—where manacles are attached to the wall, and there’s almost no light.”

“That was a solitary confinement cell. It’s in the dungeon of the prison.”

“So you’ve been there? Inside the jail, I mean.”

“Absolutely.”

She clutched the hand that held hers with urgency. “I must go there, Quinn. As soon as possible.”

“The jail is closed until Memorial Day weekend, but I know the owners. Maybe they will let us inside before then.”

“Us?” Granny asked. “Is Indiana coming with us?”

Emma was wondering the same thing. She slipped her hand away from his. “I would appreciate any help you can give me, Quinn, connecting with the owners. And the thumbnail of the history of the place was very helpful, but I need to go on my own.”

Pushing back her desk chair, she got up. “My show may be public, but the contact I have with spirits personally is very private. This situation doesn’t just involve dead people but people still alive. I need to protect their privacy. I’m sure you understand.”

Quinn stood up. Although Emma was tall, he was nearly a half- foot taller. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I want to help you, Emma. I’m professionally fascinated by this … and personally fascinated by you.”

She slipped out of his grasp and moved away, her mind working overtime to sort out her next move.

“I need to take a rain check on that dinner, Quinn.”

“Okay, dinner’s off, but at least you’ve dropped the
Dr. Keenan
again.” He watched her with the cunning of a fox.

“I’m sorry, but I want to go to Pennsylvania right away, and I have some things I need to attend to before I go, including contacting the owners of that jail.”

“As I said, I’d be happy to do it for you.”

She picked up a business card from a stack in a holder on her desk and scribbled down her cell phone number and personal email address. “I know it’s an imposition, especially with you flying to New York tomorrow, but it would be a great help.” She slipped him the card. “They can reach me by phone or email. Tell them I plan on being in Jim Thorpe no later than Friday and would appreciate meeting with them and seeing the prison.”

“Frankly,” Quinn said, looking at Emma’s card, “I think they’re going to be very excited to meet you. They give ghost tours at the jail. It’s supposedly haunted.”

Emma glanced once more at the photos on the computer screen. “There’s no
supposedly
about it. That jail is definitely haunted.”

nineteen

Once again Emma was
sitting across from Lainey Naiman at Serenity Place, this time on a patio just outside the community room and snack bar. Her plans to leave for Jim Thorpe as quickly as possible were not jelling up. Quinn had done his part, and in short order Emma had received an email from Betty Lou McBride, one of the owners of the Old Jail. As Quinn predicted, the McBrides were excited at the prospect of meeting Emma but would not be available until the following week. This Sunday was Mother’s Day, Betty Lou had explained, and they would be tied up all weekend with family. She suggested that Emma visit Jim Thorpe after that.

In her excitement over finding Addy’s home, Emma had forgotten about Mother’s Day. She’d even bought the cameo from Sachman’s for Elizabeth. This was also Phil’s last weekend in town before his trip with his sons. The Millers and Emma had planned on going to Julian for the weekend. She’d invited Keith Goldstein and was going to invite Lainey, though she hadn’t heard from Keith since Summer’s death. Frustrated by the delay and antsy to deal with Addy, Emma made plans to fly to Jim Thorpe first thing on Monday morning.

After spending much of Wednesday communicating with the McBrides and ironing out her travel plans, Emma had decided to head to Julian on Thursday morning, ahead of her parents, and see Lainey on the way. She’d called Dr. Kitty to clear a time and was told to be there by ten thirty, before Lainey had lunch and got down to her afternoon classes and activities.

Lainey played with her eco-friendly reusable water bottle, turning it around in her hands. “You said on the phone you know why I tried to kill myself. Is that true or just another psychological theory to add to everyone else’s?” In spite of the sarcasm, Lainey’s voice held hope in a fragile grasp. Holding up a hand, she started ticking off points. “My mother is controlling and doesn’t love me. I’m not over my father’s death. I hate Linwood. Abandonment issues. What do you have to add to the list? Oh, and let’s not forget to add my fiancé’s infidelity and a friend’s death by dropping from the balcony of my home.”

Before seeing Lainey, Emma had spoken with Dr. Kitty. Even though the doctor had made it clear in their last meeting that she considered ghosts hooey, Emma felt she needed to tell the doctor what was going on. Being a Hollywood wife had taught Emma a few tricks, like not being shy about dropping names if it could open doors. In this case, Emma dropped her parents’ names, hoping it would give her more credibility. It had. Dr. Kitty’s fond memories of Emma’s parents and their time in Hawaii paved the way for her to at least listen to Emma’s explanation about Lainey’s ring.

“I’m not saying I believe this outlandish theory,” Dr. Kitty had told Emma in her office just before Emma visited Lainey. “But neither do I believe Miss Naiman is or was a suicide risk. She’s a survivor, and she’ll survive even these recent events. But something made her try to kill herself, so why not give your idea a go. Just be delicate, if you can. And if Lainey doesn’t believe it, don’t push the idea.”

Emma had agreed.

“Lainey, I’m not going to downplay any of the things you and your doctors have discussed in therapy. I’m sure you have some of those issues. We all have personal problems and tragedy in our lives. But I also know you’re a sensible young woman and that you didn’t consciously try to kill yourself.”

“But something drove me to do it unconsciously?”

“Yes.” Emma hesitated, wondering if she should simply blurt it out. It wasn’t every day you had to tell someone a ghost was out to kill them. She wasn’t sure of protocol.

Pulling the velvet pouch from her purse, Emma emptied Lainey’s engagement ring onto the table between them. Seeing it brought tears to Lainey’s eyes. She started to reach for it, then clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap.

“Keith called me, you know. Yesterday.” She looked from the ring up to Emma. “He said he was sorry and that he’d never stopped loving me. He said being with Summer had been a big, stupid mistake.”

“He does love you, Lainey. I have no doubt of that.”

“He asked if there was some way I could forgive him.”

“Can you?”

Lainey sniffed back the tears as she grabbed for a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I don’t know.” After a brief silence, Lainey added, “But he also said I should listen to you.” She gave Emma a weak smile. “Is it your job to convince me to go back to him?”

“No, Lainey, that’s not my job. When all this is over, you two should privately work out your problems like any other couple.”

With caution, Emma picked up the ring and placed it in the palm of her hand. There was no time like the present to jump into the deep end of crazy talk. “Lainey, I know this is going to sound nuts to you, but I believe it was this ring that caused you to try to kill yourself.”

Lainey was in the midst of taking another sip from her water and nearly gagged at the words. She stared at Emma. “My
ring
? Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not. You know that I’m involved with the paranormal, don’t you?”

Lainey nodded. “Yes. I’ve seen your show, but I didn’t realize you believed all that stuff personally. I thought you were just the host.” She paused. “I once asked Kelly about it, but she just said it was your job.”

What was Kelly supposed to say?
Emma knew Kelly believed in Granny’s existence, but talking about things like that with her friends was probably more distance than her daughter was willing to travel for the time being. And it was probably for the best.

“It is my job, but I’m also in contact with various ghosts and spirits.”

Lainey’s eyes popped open with expectation and more hope. “Have you seen my father?”

“Yes, Lainey, I have. He’s with you a great deal. He’s probably the reason you managed to thwart your own suicide attempts at the last minute. He was watching over you and protecting you.”

The young woman closed her eyes as her tears changed from drips to heavy rain. “I always thought I could feel him near me, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.” Using the napkin, she blotted her eyes again. “Is he here now?”

Emma smiled to herself, noting how quickly people believed in spirits when it brought them what they sought emotionally, whether it be closure of a loved one’s death or comfort. She looked around but couldn’t see any ghosts, save Granny, who was hovering by the edge of the building, lost in her own interests.

“No, Lainey, he’s not. But he was here the last time I visited, and he seems to spend quite a bit of time around you. He’s asked me to help you.”

Lainey studied the ring in Emma’s hand. “But that ring was his. How could the ring want to kill me if it belonged to my father?”

“I believe the ring killed him the same way it tried to kill you.”

“You mean my father didn’t commit suicide, like my mother thinks?”

“Not any more than you did.” Emma picked the ring up from her palm, holding it by the lower edge so the huge diamond faced skyward. It flickered with an internal fire enhanced by the late- morning sun. “As outrageous as it sounds, I believe the spirit of a young woman inhabits this diamond. What I’ve been able to determine so far is that her name is Addy, and she was an abused wife who lived in a small town in Pennsylvania in the late 1800s. I also believe she hanged herself when she was about your age.”

Lainey leaned back, away from the ring.

“I don’t know why she’s going after people who wear this ring,” Emma continued, “but I need to find out before she kills again.”

Lainey looked up at Emma with saucer eyes. “Kills
again
?”

“I was able to trace some of the history of this ring. Many of the prior owners killed themselves. Summer Perkins was wearing it right before she fell.”

A hand shot to Lainey’s mouth to squelch her terror. “My ring killed Summer?”

“The night before, when she and Keith were drinking, she tried on your ring and forgot to take it off. The next morning I believe the ghost in the ring enticed her up onto the railing. Summer was behaving in a very antagonistic manner right before then.”

“But neither Keith or the police said anything about the ring being linked to Summer’s death.”

“They know nothing about it. When Keith was in the other room letting the police in, I saw the ghost and realized the ring was the connection. I convinced Summer to take it off, thinking it would save her, but it was too late. Addy had too much influence over her. Summer managed to get the ring off but fell anyway.”

Lainey put her water bottle down on the table. Getting up from her seat, she wandered to the edge of the patio, where she leaned against a support beam. She stared out over the peaceful grounds, her arms crossed in front of her defensively, as she tried to digest what Emma had just disclosed. She shivered slightly in the warm sun. Giving her time alone, Emma remained at the table and watched the activities of other residents and staff. In the distance she heard a lawn mower.

Granny floated over to Emma. “I gotta tell you something.”

Emma whispered to Granny. “Can it wait? Lainey’s in a lot of distress right now.”

The ghost danced from foot to foot like a child needing to pee. “I think it’s important.”

“Okay, then.”

“There’s a man over by the edge of the building. I think he’s spying on you.”

That got Emma’s attention. She started to turn to look, but Granny stopped her. “Don’t look. He’ll know we’re onto him.”

“What does he look like, Granny?”

“He’s dark skinned. Young. His hair’s all snaky.”

“He has dreadlocks?” When Granny seemed confused, Emma added, “His hair is twisted into lots of skinny ponytails?”

“Yeah, like I said—all snaky.”

It sounded like the yoga instructor Lainey had pointed out the last time she was at Serenity. Emma searched her memory for his name and came up with
Jamal
.

“He works here,” she told Granny, keeping her face turned away from the side of the stucco building. “Dr. Kitty probably recruited him to make sure I didn’t overstep my bounds.” She paused to think, not sure if her conclusion was on target. “Still, let’s be sure. Can you keep a close eye on him for me?”

Granny gave her a short salute. “I’m on it, Chief.”

As soon as Granny headed off on her assignment, Emma pushed Jamal out of her mind and concentrated again on Lainey. She got up and went to the young woman; standing next to her, both of them focused their eyes on the rolling green lawn. Lainey had stopped shaking and was more composed.

“So, what now?” Lainey finally asked, still not looking at Emma.

“I’m going to Addy’s hometown in Pennsylvania next week. I need to find out why she’s killing people. Maybe I can bring her enough peace so she’ll stop.”

“And the ring?”

“I want to take it with me. I think it will help to return Addy to her home.” Emma turned to Lainey. “I want you to sell me the ring.”

Lainey jerked her head in surprise. “Sell it to you? But why?”

“I don’t know what will happen to the stone once Addy is faced with her past, and it’s too valuable to not compensate you in case it gets damaged.”

Lainey returned her eyes to the landscape. “I won’t sell it to you, Mrs. Whitecastle, but take the ring and do what you have to do. If the ring survives, it survives, and I’ll deal with it then. If it doesn’t,” she shrugged, “I’m not out anything. Not really. My mother bought that ring for my father. It was supposed to represent a renewal of their relationship, but it was all a sham, like most things with my mother.”

“Do your feelings have anything to do with Linwood Reid?”

She nodded. “Everything to do with him.” She turned back to Emma. “You were friends with my parents, Mrs. Whitecastle, but did you know my mother was carrying on with Lin back then?”

The disclosure shocked Emma. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yep, right up until my parents decided to give their marriage a second chance. And how convenient that the great Linwood Reid was there to comfort her after my father died.” Lainey’s face hardened as she spoke. “And here’s another piece of information for you: Lin tried to buy off Keith. Right after we announced our engagement, he offered Keith money to end our relationship and forget about me.”

Emma remembered Keith telling her the same thing, but he’d also said he hadn’t told Lainey about it.

“Apparently,” Lainey continued, “he thought Keith was a gold digger and wanted to protect me.” Lainey shook her head. “It’s one of the things Keith told me when he called yesterday. He also said my mother later offered him money to stick around and marry me as soon as possible.” She smiled for the first time since their meeting began. “He said he told them both to go to hell.” She shook her head. “If anyone’s a gold digger, it’s Lin, not Keith.”

It was the same thing Max had told her. “But Linwood Reid is a very wealthy man, why would he be a gold digger?”

“Who knows, but I know my mother has turned all of her assets over to his management. He tried to take control of mine after they married, but they were locked up in a trust managed by my father’s lawyer. When I turned eighteen he tried to palm me off on his nephew—some pretentious ass much older than me. But I was onto him.”

Emma tilled the information over in her head like fresh soil in a garden. “Lainey, I got the feeling when speaking to your mother that something’s amiss between her and Lin. It’s almost like she’s afraid of him or something. She’s very submissive around him and seems unhappy.”

She shrugged in response. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I agree, my mother has changed. I’ve tried to tell her he’s just a creepy common criminal in designer suits, but she won’t listen.”

Remembering what Phil had told her about Linwood Reid, Emma had to agree.

Lainey took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms. She faced Emma, her face softened. “Take the ring, Mrs. Whitecastle. Please. If Keith and I get back together, it will be without that ring. To me, now it will always be what killed my father. There’s no way it’s going back on my finger, not even if you manage your exorcism.”

Emma thought about Isaac Sachman and his interest in the ring. “If the ring survives, I know a jeweler on Fairfax who will gladly buy it from you or trade it for another ring you might like more.”