Gem of a Ghost: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery (22 page)

twenty-seven

From the hotel, they
walked straight up Broadway, past the Old Jail Museum, and kept going. Quinn set a brisk pace, and after the day they’d had already, it felt good to Emma to do something physical. The mid-afternoon air was brisk and fresh and filled with the potential of cooler temperatures come sundown. When he’d returned to her room, Quinn had a small backpack. He filled it with the sandwiches and drinks from her mini fridge and a makeshift ice pack.

They moved along side by side without speaking, staying on Broadway, following its lazy curve and incline. There were fewer buildings and businesses up at this end. Quinn made a right turn onto a small side street, then disappeared into the brush on the left. Emma followed him, discovering a footpath just beyond the spring growth of bushes. They continued on the path, which climbed through a small wooded area until it broke in a clearing at the top of a small hill.

“It’s beautiful up here.” Exhilarated by the hike, Emma spun around, taking in the natural beauty. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Quinn dropped his backpack down on one of three well-worn picnic tables in the clearing. “Yeah, it’s not that high, but it does give a great view of the town and the area around it.” He pointed toward an old road on the other side of the clearing. “That’s an old carriage road. We could have driven here, but I thought the exercise would do us good. You know, clear our minds.”

“I totally agree.” Emma stood at the edge of the clearing watching the small town of Jim Thorpe.

Quinn came to stand next to her. “How’s Addy doing?”

Emma touched the small velvet pouch stuffed into the right pocket of her jeans. “So far, no bonfires. Why?”

“This was where the Dowd mansion stood. This is where Addy Ames Dowd died.”

Emma sucked in her breath and held it. Wrapping her fingers around the pouch, she felt for irritation from the ring, but there was none.

Quinn gently took Emma’s arm and guided her to the table with the backpack. “Come sit down and have a bite. It’s been a long time since breakfast, and I have a story to tell.”

He laid out three sandwiches and the two unopened bottles of tea. The sandwiches were stumpy oblongs wrapped in white paper and secured with tape. One was marked with an
e
, one with a
t
, and the last with a
v
. They looked like three oversized capsules of medication. “I wasn’t sure, but I got the feeling you didn’t eat red meat, so I picked up the only three sandwiches the place offered that didn’t have it.” Quinn touched the first wrapped sandwich, the one with the
e
scrawled on the wrapper. “We have egg salad.” He touched the next. “Tuna. And the last is grilled vegetables and Swiss.” He smiled at her. “What’s your pleasure, milady?”

“I’m fine with any of them, though I feel bad you didn’t get one with meat for yourself.” She untied her light jacket from around her waist and laid it on the bench next to her.

“I don’t eat much red meat. For a while I went totally vegetarian, but it’s difficult to do when you spend so much time in other countries.” He lifted his long legs and stepped over the bench to take a seat across from Emma. “When the leader of a tribe butchers his prize goat in your honor, it’s difficult to explain you don’t eat anything with a face. Now I just eat it in moderation.”

Emma laughed. “Tell you what, how about I take the egg and you the tuna. We’ll split the third sandwich. That way we’ll both get our veggies.”

“Spoken like a true mom.” He handed her the egg salad sandwich and half of the vegetable one, then dug around in the plastic bag they’d been wrapped in, producing two bags of chips and a handful of thin paper napkins. “Look, we even have napkins, thanks to the girl at the counter. How civilized.”

Emma twisted the cap off of a bottle of tea and took a drink while soaking in the atmosphere. A mansion on top of this small hill would have been fantastic. Even a small house in the location would have been lovely.

“How come no one has rebuilt up here?”

“The Dowd family left it to the town to be used as a park, but I don’t think they left money for its maintenance. There was some talk awhile back about a developer buying it from the city and building condos up here. I think the economy tanked those plans. In the summer, folks will walk up here to picnic or relax, but most don’t even remember this spot’s here. And some believe it’s cursed.” He took a bite of his tuna sandwich and chewed, following it up with a couple of chips. “Tell me, Emma. You’re the expert here. Do you think it’s haunted or cursed?”

Emma took a bite of her own sandwich. She chewed slowly, taking the time to get an overall sense of the place. “I don’t see any ghosts, but I can feel something. Something very amiss.” Emma stopped eating and closed her eyes to concentrate. After a moment, she looked at Quinn. “Might not be spirits at all, but I’m definitely picking up something. This place is very unsettling.” She took another bite of her lunch. “Did anyone besides Addy die up here?”

Instead of answering right away, Quinn tipped back a bottle of tea for a quick swig. Another two bites and he was through his tuna sandwich. He wiped his hands on one of the napkins.

“Three people have died here that I know of: Addy, of course; Virginia Dowd; and Ronald himself. Virginia died in the fire after killing Ronald with an ax.”

The news startled Emma. “Didn’t you say earlier that Virginia was suspected of starting the fire?”

Quinn nodded while his eyes grazed on the peaceful view of the town below. “She torched it by setting fire to herself using kerosene.”

Upon hearing the next installment of Dowd family history, Emma started choking on her sandwich. Grabbing her tea, she took a drink.

“You okay?” asked Quinn, already on his feet to assist her.

She gave him a thumbs-up while she took another drink to clear her throat. “The self-immolation thing caught me by surprise.”

“According to the story,” continued Quinn, who remained on his feet, “one of the servants—the butler, I believe—came across Ronald’s body in the drawing room. Virginia was pouring kerosene over it, herself, and the room. When he tried to stop her, she scooped embers from the fireplace and threw them, setting the place ablaze. He barely had time to alert the others in the house to get out.”

“Virginia was Ronald’s third wife, correct? What happened to his second?” Even as she asked, Emma had the feeling the woman hadn’t fared well.

“You know, we’re sort of starting at the end of Addy’s story and working backward.”

“I’m fine with that.” Emma took another bite of egg salad, only to find she’d lost her appetite. She wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and put it back in the bag.

“The second wife was another young woman like Addy, still a teenager when he married her less than a year after Addy’s death.” Quinn grabbed his half of the veggie sandwich from the table, took a bite, and swallowed. “Not much is known about her except that she died before their first anniversary. Witnesses claim they saw her walking down Broadway in her nightgown in the middle of the night. A few days later her body was found in the river.”

Emma’s ears pricked. “Wait. People saw her but didn’t stop her? They weren’t curious why a woman was walking alone in her nightgown at night?”

“A lot of the eyewitnesses believed it was a ghost—the ghost of Addy Ames, to be exact. Some swear it was Addy who lured the second Mrs. Dowd to her death—and who caused Virginia to go crazy.”

Emma rubbed her upper arms from a chill that was starting from within. “That would be Addy’s style.”

Quinn rested one foot on the bench and leaned forward. “Well, here’s a tidbit to support Addy’s involvement. The Dowd diamond was a family heirloom. When Ronald married Addy, his mother gave it to him to give to her. Each time Ronald Dowd married, he gave the same large diamond ring to his bride.”

“So if Addy was haunting it, she had access to her successors.”

“Exactly. Ronald had three wives. Addy hanged herself. The second drowned, and the third went mad, killed Ronald, and burned down the mansion. Is it any wonder people think the ring and this place is cursed? Or any wonder why the family moved away?”

Quinn pointed at the velvet pouch, which Emma had put on the table while they ate. “Any action from within?”

“None.” Emma opened the pouch and took out the ring. She caressed it. “It’s stone-cold—has been ever since you saw the smoke going into it. I’m wondering if Addy’s left it for good.”

“Has your Granny seen her anywhere?”

“Granny’s not here. I asked her to pop in on my parents to make sure Lainey’s okay.”

Quinn shook his head in amusement. “I can see how convenient it would be to have a friendly spirit at your disposal. It’s like being in two places at once.”

“Granny can be a real pill at times, and she’s stubborn as an old mule, but she’s always willing to help where she can, and she’s fiercely loyal.” Emma shot Quinn a slight smile. “She’s my secret weapon. She also wasn’t too keen on you patching me up like you did, even if you do remind her of Indiana Jones.”

Quinn struck an action pose. “So she thinks I’m like Indy, does she?”

Emma couldn’t help but grin at his antics, but she also couldn’t help but think about Phil Bowers. The two men were so different in appearance, yet so much alike. Both were confident, intelligent, and accomplished, and both loved to joke and laugh. Already she felt as at home with Quinn as she did with Phil, and it unsettled her. Maybe that’s what Granny didn’t like—not Quinn’s attentions but Emma’s comfort with them.

Still holding the ring, Emma put her mind back onto the problem of Addy Ames. Swinging her legs to the outside of the bench, she got up. She took a seat on the table, placing her feet on the bench. “Now tell me about Addy and Edward.”

Moving around to Emma’s side of the table, Quinn took a seat on the table top next to her. “Addy Ames was a beauty, the daughter of a local merchant named Howard Ames.”

“She is quite attractive,” Emma commented. “At least what I’ve seen of her.”

“Her family was well-to-do but not wealthy like the Dowds,” Quinn continued. “As the story goes, when she turned eighteen, Ronald Dowd asked Addy’s father for her hand in marriage. The Ames family was thrilled with the match, but Addy refused Ronald. She was in love with someone else.”

“Edward Kelly?”

“Yes. It’s your typical star-crossed lovers story, although it’s unclear how the two met and became close. A match between them would have been unthinkable. He was from a poor family of Irish miners. Back then, the Irish were treated like animals. They were denied basic rights, not allowed to apply for jobs, not even permitted in some establishments.”

Emma glanced at Quinn. “I remember that from history classes. It was much like African-Americans in the South before the civil rights movement.”

“Yes. America, for all its freedoms, has never been kind to new arrivals, whether they came by force or of their own volition. Actually, much of the world is like that. People in general are fearful of others who are different from themselves. I’ve seen it time and time again all over the world.”

Quinn cleared his throat before continuing and took a drink of his tea. “So Addy and Edward met and fell in love, even though it was forbidden by the times. Of course her family was outraged and insisted she marry Ronald Dowd. This was happening about the same time as the Molly Maguire arrests and trials, so anti-Irish sentiment was especially high. The Dowd family had interests in the mines and the railroads and was very influential. Charges of conspiracy were drummed up against poor young Edward, and he was thrown in jail with the others. He was eighteen years old.”

Emma blinked back tears and hugged herself. Quinn bent down and picked up her jacket, placing it around her shoulders. He put an arm around her and kept it there for several heartbeats before removing it.

“They lied to me,” came a hazy voice off to their left.

twenty-eight

Emma turned to see
Addy standing on the edge of the clearing. The ghost was looking out over the town. “This was the view from the front porch. The porch went around three sides. It was a grand house, but to me it was a prison.”

Emma nudged Quinn. “Addy’s here,” she whispered.

She turned her attention to the ghost, whose eyes were still fixed on the town. “Who lied to you, Addy?”

“Everyone. My father. Ronald. Even my mother.” She turned to face Emma. “They said if I married Ronald, Edward would be set free. Ronald even offered to pay him money so he could start over somewhere else.”

Emma’s face fell with the weight of the young ghost’s words. In a hushed tone, she relayed the story to Quinn before turning back to Addy. “But instead they hanged him?”

“Yes. Just a few months after Ronald and I wed.” Addy moved around the clearing, studying the spot where the Dowd mansion once stood for any sign of the hated place. Emma turned to follow her with her eyes. Quinn noticed.

“Is she drifting about?” he asked.

Emma nodded. “She’s moving around the clearing, to and fro, like pacing.”

“I left Ronald,” Addy continued, her voice a monotone but her jaw set in stone. “I left early one morning to catch the first train out of Mauch Chunk, but someone saw me at the train station and sent word to Ronald. He had two of his servants stop me and drag me back to the house.”

“My dream,” Emma told her. “I saw you waiting at the train station in one of my dreams.”

The ghost nodded. “After that, Ronald took to beating me whenever I’d refuse his advances, which was every time. He wanted an heir, but I told him I would kill any child of his I conceived.” Addy’s words oozed long-embedded anger, letting Emma know she’d meant what she’d threatened.

“What’s going on?” asked Quinn. Quickly, Emma brought him up to date with the conversation.

Quinn took a deep breath and blew it out. “That part wasn’t in the local legend.”

Addy came close to Emma and Quinn, standing directly in front of them. “Feel how cold it is right here in front of us?” Emma whispered to Quinn. He put out a hand and nodded. “Addy is right there. If the air temperature changes, she’s moved away.”

Emma turned her attention back to the young ghost. “So when you couldn’t take it anymore, you hanged yourself. You used the sash from your robe, didn’t you?”

The ghost swung her head side to side in a slow, exaggerated movement. “Ronald did that to me. He tied and gagged me, then used my own belt to hang me. He told me I could follow Edward into hell for all he cared. After, he made it look like I’d done it to myself.”

Emma’s hand shot to her mouth as she sucked in a quick shot of air.

“What?” asked Quinn, his eyes darting between Emma’s face and the empty space in front of them.

“Addy didn’t hang herself as we had thought; Ronald murdered her.”

Quinn fixed his eyes directly in front of them. “Addy, is that why you haunted the Dowd diamond? For revenge?”

“Yes. No one who wore that ring was ever going to live a happy life. I made sure of that. And I made sure the ring survived. The cow that burned down the mansion wasn’t wearing it when she died. It was in the Dowd safe, secure from the flames. It was also in the safe when the second wife drowned. The ring was only brought out when they went out in public.” She turned her attention directly to Emma. “I use the ring, but I don’t need it to influence weak minds.” She let out a light, sinister laugh. “That stone embodies everything bad that has happened to me, so I used it to choose my victims.”

After Emma translated, Quinn continued his conversation with the ghost. “But Addy, you killed a lot of innocent people with your actions. What Ronald did to you and Edward was wrong, but why did you want to hurt people who never harmed you?”

Without answering, the ghost turned her back on them. Before Emma could update Quinn, the ghost spun around, her pretty face contorted into pain and anger as hot and violent as molten lava. “Because I could!” she screamed at Quinn, her face nearly touching his. “Because, for the first time
I
was in control, and no one could stop me.” She shook her fist in Quinn’s face. “Just as no one stopped them from doing and taking whatever they wanted.”

Quinn tilted his head toward Emma. “I don’t know what she just said, but from the blast of cold air in my face, it wasn’t pleasant.”

Emma translated, then turned toward the ghost. “It’s over, Addy. It’s time for you to stop the senseless killing and join Edward in peace. I brought you here to end this.”

The ghost lifted her chin and surveyed Emma with defiance before moving away. When Quinn started to speak, Emma clutched his hand, stopping him. The two of them sat on the bench overlooking the town once known as Mauch Chunk, Emma’s hand on Quinn’s, and waited, not knowing what Addy was thinking or feeling, but hoping she’d seen enough death.

Early evening was upon them. It would still be light for a few more hours, but as the sun started its descent, the air was turning cooler. Quinn moved his hand from Emma’s and put his arm around her shoulders, this time keeping it there. “You warm enough?”

She nodded but didn’t move from his embrace.

“She still here?” he asked.

Emma turned her head, first to her left, then to her right, until she spotted Addy. The troubled spirit was seated against a tree, her dressing gown wrapped around her legs. Her face was smooth with tranquility, and her eyes were shut in contemplation; the earlier rage was gone. “Yes, she’s still here, but maybe we should go and leave her be for now. We’ve said what we could. The decision is up to her.”

Quinn hopped off the picnic table and turned, holding out his hands to Emma to help her down. She did her own hop, which ended in a wobble. Her jacket slipped from her shoulders to the ground. Quinn grabbed hold of her shoulders but didn’t remove them once she was upright and steady.

His eyes latched onto hers with intensity as he tightened his grip. “Emma, you’re quite extraordinary.”

A soft laugh reminiscent of a bubbling sigh escaped her lips as she stuffed the ring’s velvet pouch into a pocket. “Why—because I talk to ghosts? More people than you realize can do that. They just keep it under wraps.”

“No. Not because you can do that, but because you have such empathy for the dead. You genuinely feel what they feel and understand them as individuals.”

His look turned her legs into jelly, and she was happy he had a good hold of her. She tried to answer with a steady voice but couldn’t. Her voice, like her legs, was shaky. “Milo Ravenscroft, my mentor, told me to always remember that ghosts were once alive and to respect them as I would a living person.”

“You have more than respect for them, Emma.” He raised the hand on her left shoulder to her cheek, lightly caressing it with two fingertips. “You feel for them. You put yourself in their place. You take on and give their emotions life.”

She dragged her eyes away from his face as she shrugged off the thought but stayed put. “If I really did that, I’d be killing people on behalf of poor Addy instead of trying to make her stop.”

He laughed. “I hope not.”

Emma turned her eyes back to him. She liked the way the fine lines around Quinn’s eyes and mouth deepened when he laughed, as if punctuating his amusement.

He ran his hand from her cheek down to her chin and tilted her face slightly upward. Emma watched his eyes travel her face, memorizing every nuance and curve. Her eyes did the same, taking in his long reddish-blond lashes and slight bump in the middle of his nose. When Quinn’s eyes lingered on her mouth, Emma closed her eyes and leaned forward. Their lips touched softly at first, each testing the willingness of the other. The first few kisses were light and playful, mere brushes of flesh against flesh. Quinn’s hand cupped her face while his other hand slipped to the small of her back and pulled her to him, their mouths locking with mutual urgency.

After the second long kiss, Emma slipped her arms around Quinn’s neck and abandoned herself to the feelings she’d been having since their meeting in her office.

The tinkling sound of bells filled their ears. Quinn broke their lip lock with a small snicker. “Did you order up accompaniment, or are the spirits serenading us?”

Emma broke away from him as the sound started up again. “That’s Kelly.” She bent down to quickly rifle through the pockets of her jacket until she located her cell phone.

“The ghost of Edward Kelly is calling you from the jail? How modern of him.”

“No,” Emma laughed. “Kelly, my daughter.”

Emma hit the answer button. “Hi, sweetie.” She turned away from Quinn, noticing at the same time that Addy Ames was gone.

“Mom, you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I was in the middle of a hike.”

“Fibber,” came Granny’s snappish voice. The ghost popped into view just in front of Emma. “You were in the middle of a kiss that melted the bottoms of your boots.”

Emma turned away from Granny. Now Quinn was in her sights again. He was packing the remainder of their lunch and trash into his backpack while keeping an eye on her. Emma turned in another direction, trying to stay away from both Granny’s look of disapproval and Quinn’s look of smoldering sexiness.

“You’re still in Pennsylvania?” Kelly asked.

“Yes. I’m hoping to leave tomorrow or the day after and drive up to Boston to see you, if that’s okay.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I really do want to see you, Mom, but I got a summer job, and it starts this coming weekend.”

“A job?” Forgetting the two sets of eyes keeping watch on her, Emma dropped down onto one of the table seats. “You’re not coming home for the summer?”

“I’ll be home near the end of the summer for a few weeks.”

Emma closed her eyes and pressed the phone close to her face. “Kelly, does this have anything to do with what happened to Summer Perkins? If so, we need to talk about that. I can’t have you thinking I’m some sort of freak.”

Silence filled the airwaves between mother and daughter. Finally Kelly said, “No, Mom, it’s not. I was very upset about that, but I know it wasn’t your fault.” There was another pause on Kelly’s end before she added, “Granny told me what happened.”

Emma’s eyes popped open as she turned her head to the place where Granny had been planted, passing judgment on Emma’s kiss. She locked a stern look onto the spirit while speaking to Kelly. “Granny told you? How long has this been going on?” Granny turned this way and that to avoid Emma’s laser look. Pursing her lips, the ghost started whistling a silent tune and buried her hands in the deep pockets of her homespun skirt.

“I discovered I could hear Granny right after Grandpa George’s funeral.” Kelly was referring to George Whitecastle, Grant’s father, who had died from cancer just days before last Christmas. “I was crying, and she talked to me. But I couldn’t see her until after I returned to school.”

Emma kept an eye on Granny, who now floated about the clearing pretending to keep her eye on Quinn, who quickly realized he wasn’t the one who held Emma’s interest at the moment. He watched Emma’s eyes as they traveled the grassy area and kept half an ear on her conversation.

“And how often does Granny visit you?”

“Is Granny in trouble?” Kelly asked in a worried voice.

“It depends,” Emma answered honestly. “Is she interfering with your studies? Or making you uncomfortable around your friends?”

“No, Mom, nothing like that. Sometimes she visits when I’m feeling lonely. She tells me what’s going on at home and stories of Julian and Great-Grandpa Jacob.”

“And she told you what’s going on concerning Summer and Lainey?”

“Yes.” Another self-conscious pause. “And about Addy Ames.”

“Uh-huh.” Emma had wanted to keep Kelly from the dark side of the spirit world as long as possible. It didn’t bother her that Kelly was bonding with Granny. She’d half expected Kelly to develop such skills considering Elizabeth had them, too, but it did bother her that Kelly was learning so soon that ghosts could be killers.
Although
, Emma reasoned in a snap of clarity,
Lainey knew, so why not Kelly?
Kelly was a grown woman, and now that Emma knew she had the gift, she would have to guide and teach her about it as Milo had taught her. Casting her look from Granny to Quinn, Emma knew now wasn’t the time to begin Kelly’s lessons.

“So tell me about the job,” she asked her daughter.

There was no mistaking the excitement in her daughter’s voice as Kelly told her about the summer position one of her professors had secured for her. It was as an assistant to a brilliant and elderly historian, helping her to catalogue and sort her papers for her memoirs. Kelly would live at the woman’s large beach house in the Hamptons for the summer. Emma understood it was an opportunity of a lifetime and one Kelly couldn’t pass up.

Then Kelly said something that jarred Emma. “I was told you could come for a visit if you wanted. Phil, too. She said in my interview she’d really like to meet you. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Phil
. His name coming from Kelly’s mouth hit Emma with cold, chilly guilt. Kelly said his name as naturally as if he were her father. Emma shot a glance at Quinn, then quickly turned away. “It does sound like fun, sweetie. And I’m sure Phil would like that.”

When Emma finished with the call, she found Quinn standing by the footpath, ready to leave. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and in his hands was Emma’s jacket. He didn’t look at her as she approached but studied the bark on a nearby tree as if it were an ancient manuscript.

As Emma passed Granny, she pointed a finger at the spirit. “We’re going to talk about this later,” she said in a steady, stern whisper, “so don’t go disappearing on me for long.”

Granny shrugged and popped out of sight as quickly as she’d appeared.

When she reached Quinn, Emma took her jacket from him. “Sorry, Quinn, but Kelly had to tell me about her new job. I was going to drive up to Boston to visit her, but that’s off now.” Emma passed along the information Kelly had given her about the job.

“Wow,” he said, clearly impressed. “That summer job could open a lot of opportunities for her in the future.”