The Ghosts of Aquinnah (5 page)

Hannah walked into the interior of the lighthouse and found a young man arranging brochures on a wooden table next to the door. He wore the standard Vineyard apparel of jeans and a faded hooded sweatshirt, and his long, stringy brown hair was pulled back into a thin ponytail. Sporting a Boston Red Sox cap and rectangular glasses, the man turned to look at Hannah as she walked through the door.

“
Hi,” he said, not even trying to be subtle as his eyes ran from Hannah’s face to her feet and back again. Apparently pleased with what he saw, he held out his hand and smiled. “Are you here for a tour?”

Hannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the once-over she had received. She was used to being admired by men, and she knew she had received an excellent combination of genes from her white father and her black mother. With her tall and willowy frame, she had often been told she could have been a model. Her large brown eyes and high cheekbones added to her unusually good looks.

She smiled back at the man and shook his extended hand. “I’m not, but thank you. I just wondered if I could ask you a few questions.”

“
Sure. What about?”

“
Do you know if there have been any historic reenactments up here recently? Maybe some sort of show or festival?”

The man put down his brochures and shook his head. “No. We never have that sort of thing on the Vineyard as far as I know.”

Hannah knew that too, but she figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“
I’ve always thought those things were cheesy myself,” the man said.

Hannah couldn't help but laugh at his undeniably Vineyard attitude. “I don’t disagree,” she said.

“
Why are you asking?”

“
I saw a woman up here recently that looked like she was wearing clothes from the 1800s. I thought she might be part of a reenactment troupe.”

“
If she was I’ve never heard anything about it. And I’m here almost every day now that we’re gearing up for the summer.”

“
Have you seen anyone dressed strangely? This woman was small, tiny, really, and she was wearing a long dress and a bonnet. She had a big shawl or cape around her shoulders.”

The man shook his head again. “I haven’t seen anyone dressed like that. But maybe the woman you saw is a Mennonite. Or she’s an Amish person?”

Hannah had wondered the same thing. But somehow she knew that wasn’t the answer.

“
She was walking up to the overlook in the dark,” she said, trying another tact. “Have you had any nighttime events lately?”

“
Nothing but the usual sunset activities. Everyone pretty much disappears as soon as it’s dark up here.”

Hannah could tell the man was starting to regard her with suspicion.

“
When did you say you saw this woman again?” he asked.

“
Oh, just the other night. I was hanging around after the sunset. Sometimes I like it up here in the dark.”

She knew now the man was no longer just suspicious, he almost certainly thought she was crazy. No one would like being at the cliffs in the dark of night.

“
I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Why are you trying to find this woman, anyway?”

“
I’m just wondering if she’s okay. She looked upset when I saw her, like something was wrong.”

“
Why didn’t you just ask her yourself?”

Hannah knew the man would find her insane for sure if she admitted to only seeing the woman over a webcam.

“
I just lost track of her in the dark. You know how it gets up here, especially when it’s foggy. But I’m sure it was nothing.” She flashed her best smile and reached forward to take one of the brochures off the table. “I’m sorry to bother you, thanks for your time.”

“
Not a problem. You sure you don’t want a tour? The view from the top of the lighthouse is amazing to see.”

“
No thanks. I’ve already been up there lots of times. And you’re right, it is amazing.”

Hannah ducked out of the lighthouse and walked quickly back towards the road. She could almost hear Jon’s mocking voice in her head. What exactly did she hope to achieve by this foolish quest? Did she want to make people think she was crazy?

The crowd at the overlook had grown as the sun moved closer to disappearing into the sea, and the sky had become a tapestry of purples and pinks surrounding the orange glow of the sun. Hannah climbed the stairs, her eyes purposely avoiding the webcam looking down at her, and bought a cup of coffee to go with the granola bar she had taken from her bag before leaving the Hammett House. Taking a seat on a nearby picnic bench, she noticed a man and woman holding hands as they walked towards the overlook. The man carried a young girl on his shoulders, and she rested her chin on his head. Hannah swallowed a lump in her throat and looked away as she sipped her coffee.

The granola bar and coffee were both long gone by the time the sun finished its slow descent and the crowds left the overlook and returned to their cars. Hannah remained at her table, determined to wait and see the mystery woman when she returned to the cliffs. Hannah knew she would return. She could feel it.

But she was wrong. The workers at the various restaurants and shops closed up and left for the night, and Hannah saw the young man at the lighthouse return to his car and do the same. The overlook was now silent except for the waves crashing to the shore beneath her.

She pulled her trench coat tighter around her as she shivered in the cold wind and waited. No one came.

Hannah glanced around at the shrubs blowing violently against the white fences and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. This was not a safe place for anyone to be alone in the dark. Feeling like a fool, Hannah blinked back tears. She knew that both Jon and Sarah had been right. This was lunacy.

She got up from the table and pulled a flashlight from her backpack. Following the flashlight beam, she quickly made her way back to her car. Hannah felt safer inside the locked car and decided to wait a bit longer. But no one came.

Finally giving up, she turned on the ignition and drove back to the Hammett House. She was grateful to find the lobby empty as she walked inside, as she had no desire to speak to anyone and no interest in forced pleasantries. The night’s chill clung to her bones, and the travels of the day had caught up with her. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a good night’s sleep in a warm bed.

Hannah walked into her room and turned on the overhead light. Instinctively, she knew the room was different than it had been when she left. Someone had been there while she was gone.

She slowly set down her backpack and glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of order. Perhaps the maid had simply been back after Hannah had left for Aquinnah. But why would a maid return to a room where the guest had just checked in that afternoon?

Hannah’s eyes zeroed in on the bed and the quilt, where she saw a sheet of paper set against the array of pillows at the top of the bed.

She walked to the bed, expecting to find an advertisement for the inn’s services, or perhaps a breakfast menu. But she could hear her heart beating in her chest as she picked up the paper. Before she even read the words on the page, she was certain that the paper had nothing to do with the inn.

Her hand started to shake as she held the page in her hand. It was an old and yellowed newspaper clipping, an article from The Boston Globe in January of 1884. The headline screamed out news of a shipwreck that had happened off the coast of Gay Head two nights before.
The City of Columbus
had run aground on the shelf of rock known as Devil’s Bridge, and at least 100 people had perished.

Hannah put the paper back onto her bed and sat down next to it. Who would come into her room and leave this for her to find? Was the Hammett House involved in some sort of presentation that was being held on this wreck? Perhaps someone had merely dropped the clipping. But why would that someone have been in her room and standing next to her bed?

She picked up the bedside phone and called the Hammett House’s owner, Grace Pease. Pease answered almost immediately.

“
Hello? This is Grace Pease.”

“
Ms. Pease, this is Hannah Forrester.”

“
Oh, hello Ms. Forrester.”

“
I’m sorry to be calling you so late…”

“
Not a problem,” Pease answered. “What can I do for you?”

“
I just wondered if you or perhaps the maid had been in my room since I checked in this afternoon.”

“
No, I haven’t. And Mrs. Rogers won’t be back until tomorrow morning to clean. She cleaned your room before you got here today. Was something unsatisfactory?”

“
No, no, everything was great, thank you. I just found a paper on the bed I thought you or Mrs. Rogers may have misplaced.”

“
What kind of paper?”

“
A newspaper article.”

“
I’ll ask Mrs. Rogers in the morning, but I can’t imagine why she would have been carrying newspapers around while cleaning the rooms. Please accept my apologies, though. I’m sorry that a mess was left in your room.”

“
No, it wasn’t a mess at all; please don’t think I’m complaining.” The last thing Hannah wanted to do was get the maid in trouble with her boss. “It’s not a problem. You’re just sure that no one was in my room after I checked in?”

“
Of course I’m sure, Ms. Forrester. We respect our guest’s privacy. And no one has a key besides Mrs. Rogers and me.”

“
Okay, great, thank you. I may have picked up this paper myself on the ferry or maybe back in Boston and just forgot, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m sorry again to have bothered you. The room is lovely.”

“
It’s no bother at all. Please don’t hesitate to call if anything else comes up.”

“
I won’t, thank you. Good night.”

Hannah hung up the phone and walked to the door of her room to double-check the lock. Maybe she had simply forgotten to lock it when she’d gone to the cliffs and another guest had entered her room by mistake. That was the most likely answer. Except that she knew she’d locked the door.

Shaken, Hannah grabbed a straight back chair from the dressing table and propped it under the doorknob. She returned to the bed and picked up the paper again. Grace Pease’s voice echoed in her head.

“
No one has a key besides Mrs. Rogers and me…”

Whether they had a key or not, someone had managed to get into her room while she was gone and placed the old newspaper where she was sure to find it. But who?

An answer crept into Hannah’s mind, but she quickly swept it aside. She wasn’t so far gone that she was ready to accept that. There had to be a rational explanation for all of this.

She looked at the paper again and knew where to start looking for that explanation. She’d spend the following day at the library. She needed to learn more about the wreck of
The
City of Columbus.

****

Hannah couldn’t believe her eyes when she booted up her laptop the following morning at breakfast and clicked onto the official Martha’s Vineyard site. She realized she wasn’t going to be heading to the library after all.

There, front and center on the page, was an advertisement about a new exhibit at the Martha’s Vineyard museum and historical society in Edgartown. The exhibit featured the most infamous shipwrecks in the island’s history. Hannah had no doubt that
The City of Columbus
would be included. It had to be.

Stunned by the coincidence of the exhibit opening right after she had found the newspaper article, Hannah recalled the night she had decided to come to the island after her mystery woman had stared directly into the webcam and at her. She was shaken by the feeling that she was being led. But how could that be? And what could possibly be the purpose?