Revealing the Dead Page 10

“Do you think you’ll be leaving this door open or closed most of the time?” Jack asked.

  “Open, I assume,” Abby told him. “It’s easier to get a laundry basket in and out. I don’t mind looking at it while I’m in the kitchen. And I like the light.”

  “Good point,” Jack agreed. “And it’s been my experience that most people don’t want to be staring at the commode all the time.”

  “True. So the commode would go off to the right, out of the sight line? And with a door, of course. With the washer and dryer straight ahead?” Abby asked.

  “That would be my recommendation. And a small sink against the near wall, opposite the toilet, and a light above. Do you agree, Ellie?”

  “Sure. But the powder room thing would be bigger than the old one, right?”

  “Sure enough. And the washer and dryer might be a bit smaller than the ones there now, so it wouldn’t seem so crowded, and the new ones are more efficient anyway. Ned, Abby, does that work for you?”

  “I like it,” Abby said firmly.

  Jack nodded. “So, Bill, would you get the measurements?”

  “Sure, Dad.”

  While Bill measured, Abby turned to Jack. “You want coffee or something else to drink?”

  “No, I’m good, thanks. Was there anything else?”

  “Actually, yes.” Abby sneaked a glance at Ned. “I was thinking about finishing some of the space we have to use as work space or . . . something else. There’s a lot of room in the basement and the attic, but they’re both unfinished and they have a few issues. Could we walk through them, and maybe you could put together a rough estimate of the costs?”

  “No problem. We have no more jobs lined up today.”

  “Oh, good—then maybe you can help out Ellie’s parents with their water problems.”

  “Happy to help. Why don’t I give them a call now, and then we can finish the grand tour.”

  Abby shared Leslie’s number with Jack, who retreated to the hallway to call. He was back within three minutes. “We’ll head over there when we’re done here. So, where do you want to start?”

  “Let’s start with the basement and work our way up.”

  “I took a look at the pipes down there when I was here before, but I’m guessing you’re thinking of bigger plans now?” When Abby nodded, he said, smiling, “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 13

  Saturday

  Abby led the way down the sagging wood stairs and Jack and Bill followed, with Ellie tagging behind them like an eager puppy and Ned bringing up the rear. Every time Abby used those stairs, she wondered how long they would last, and when somebody would take a wicked tumble. Maybe they should be rebuilt sooner rather than later. When they’d all reached the patchy concrete floor, Jack commented, “Good space down here. That furnace isn’t original but I don’t think it’ll last much longer. You’ve got running water, but not much light. What are you thinking of doing with it?”

  “We haven’t really decided,” Abby said, which conveniently was the truth. “But I know it’s damp, which I don’t like, and if we’re going to use it for a workroom or something like that, we’d need more light and more electrical outlets. And how complicated would it be to move the furnace out of the center of the room?”

  “Could be done,” Jack said. “You’d have to reroute the ducts, and that might be a good time to take a look at how well the heat gets distributed—or not. It’s been a while since the installation went in. If you’d want storage down here, instead of in the attic, you could build something more watertight, or put a serious dehumidifier down here. The foundation could do with some repointing, but it looks sound enough. It all depends on how you want to use it, and how much money you want to sink into it.”

  “Could you work up some ideas, maybe some rough floor plans, so we could get a general idea? And how much each would cost?” Abby asked.

  “Sure, no problem. That’s all you want to know about this space?”

  “I think so,” Abby said. “I’m just looking at options for now, and it’s kind of a blank slate, but it seems a shame to waste all this space. Let’s go check out the attic, which isn’t damp but which sure is cold this time of year—and blazing hot in the summer.”

  “No insulation, huh?” Jack chuckled. “Typical.”

  Once again Abby led the way, up the main staircase, down the hall, and then, after opening a paneled door, flipped the light switch that controlled the single lightbulb at the top of the wooden stairs and headed to the dark attic at the top of the house. “Here we are!” she said as she waited for the others to catch up.

  There was a large space that stretched the length of the house from front to back, interrupted only by a small room at the back end, near the stairs, which must have been the maid’s room years earlier. Ned was the tallest of their group, and he had to stoop to avoid hitting his head on the slanted underside of the roof—or any of the old cut nails that poked throughout.

  Abby turned to see a peculiar expression on Jack’s face as he stared at the little room at the end. And she realized it must have been his aunt’s room, where she was attacked. Or worse. And Jack was feeling it now? She hadn’t given it a thought, but clearly it was affecting him.

  “Jack? Are you all right?” Abby said softly.

  “What?” He seemed to shake himself. “Yeah, sure. It’s just . . . Never mind.” Bill was staring at his father as though Jack had lost his mind.

  Did he feel anything? Abby wondered.

  But Abby was unprepared when Ellie stepped forward and slid her hand in Jack’s, watching his face. Jack looked down at her, bewildered, but Ellie wasn’t fazed.

  “Something bad happened here, didn’t it?” Ellie said softly.

  Jack didn’t speak for a long moment, but finally he said, “Yes, it did. It was a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry it happened,” Ellie said simply.

  “So’m I,” Jack said. “I never really knew her, but my father—her brother—really missed her. He never talked about it, though. So you’re one of . . . them?” His eyes darted to Abby and Ned.

  Ellie’s gaze never shifted. “I see things. Not always happy things.”

  Ned finally spoke. “Ellie, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this, here.”

  Jack raised his eyes to meet Ned’s. “No, it’s okay. Ellie here knows whatever there is to know—more than me, at least. I don’t mind.”

  “Look,” Ellie said suddenly, pointing to the peak in the center of the outside wall of the shabby room. “See it?”

  Jack looked bewildered as he stared at the dim corner. And then he saw. “It’s a crucifix. A cross. Or the ghost of one, I guess. Mary was Catholic. I wonder if she took it with her—after, I mean. Or if the family here just threw it out?”

  He shut his eyes for a moment, then straightened his back and looked at Abby and Ned, who hadn’t dared to interrupt. “Sorry I got off the track, folks. You two already knew the story, right? But this one”—he gestured toward Ellie—“how’d she figure it out?”

  “We really don’t know, but we’re trying to understand it. She doesn’t mean any harm.”

  “Of course she doesn’t,” Jack protested. “It’s okay with me.”

  “Listen,” Abby interrupted, “if you don’t want to have anything to do with this space, I understand.”

  “No, I think I’d like to fix it up. Maybe make up for what happened back then. Redeem it, kinda. Hey, Bill, let’s get some measurements. That is, if you want to keep the room? It’d be easy to tear it out, make this all one space. Or make it bigger and fit it out as a guest room or something.”

  “Can we think about it?” Abby asked tentatively. “I haven’t dealt with a room with a history of its own, mostly just people, and I don’t see your aunt Mary. So let me get used to it, okay?”

  Jack said, “Sure, fine.” Then he and his son, who had kept his mouth shut, moved away toward the other end of the attic. Ned and Abby exchanged a glance, then Abby nodded toward Ellie. �
�What should we . . .”

  “Hey, I’m right here,” Ellie protested quickly. “And I’m not stupid. I could see what happened, even if it was a long time ago.”

  “Oh, Ellie, I’m sorry. Look, don’t tell your mother about this, okay? I’ll tell Jack not to talk about it with your folks, either. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but your mother won’t understand how and why you saw what you did, and if she figures it out she’ll be upset. She’d probably think you’re too young to know some things, and she’d be mad at Ned and me for letting this happen.”

  “You didn’t do anything. You didn’t know this was gonna happen.”

  “You’re right, but it would still upset her.”

  Ellie didn’t say anything else, so Abby had to rely on the knowledge that Ellie was pretty good at deciding what her mother needed to know—and didn’t.

  Jack seemed to have regained his composure, and he and Bill were busy poking a penknife into some of the wooden structures, to test their soundness, Abby assumed. Ned was still oddly quiet. “What do you think?” Abby prompted him.

  “I’m kind of surprised I’d never thought much about this space.”

  “You didn’t exactly need it. And it’s been just you living here since you bought the house, right.”

  “Well, yes. But I probably could have used a workshop just to tinker around in. I think I work too much.”

  “It paid off, didn’t it?” Abby told him. “Now you have the money and the time to do what you want to do. Once you decide what that is.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know how to relax and just have fun.”

  “I’ll teach you,” Abby said, smiling. She reached out to touch him, then realized that Ellie was watching them closely. “What, kiddo?”

  “I wanted to see if there were real sparks, when you—you know.”

  Abby could feel herself blushing. “Ellie, has your mom had, uh, that kind of talk with you yet?” Ellie shrugged, which wasn’t exactly an answer. “Well, I’m going to guess that between television and your friends, you have some kind of idea of what you’re talking about. And that’s good. But if you have questions, please ask me.”

  “About the sparks, you mean?” Ellie said, sounding a bit mischievous. “Does everybody get them?”

  Abby glanced helplessly at Ned, who was trying to keep a straight face. He wasn’t going to help, it seemed. Abby took a deep breath and said, “Ellie, we’re pretty new to all of this. I think that people who have the ability we three have, and maybe even Jack, can create sparks if they meet someone with the same ability, but it doesn’t happen all the time. And you should love the other person before you see if you get more than sparks.” God help me, I can’t believe I just said that, Abby thought.

  Ellie didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, or tactfully chose to ignore it. “What about animals? Do they get them too?”

  Abby glanced at Ned again, and this time they burst out laughing. “Ellie,” Ned began when he found his voice again, “I have no idea. We’ve just started exploring what happens between people, and we’ve got a long way to go. But for now I’m going to guess no. I think animals can love other animals, but I think it takes a bigger conscious mind to feel what we do. And to communicate in words, which I think we’ve all done.”

  The conversation was interrupted by the return of the Maguires. Jack spoke first. “I think I see some possibilities. It might be a good thing to do a whole-house evaluation of your heating system, so any changes would be integrated. Save you money down the road, too. Since you want to replace the furnace anyway. I’ll break it down for you and bring it by in a day or two. Unless you’ve got any more questions, Bill and me, we ought to go over to your friends’ place and see what’s going on there.”

  “That’s fine, Jack. Right now we’re just looking at what’s possible. We don’t even have a timetable for it. So go wild, and we’ll listen to your ideas.”

  Jack nodded, but Bill looked more excited by the prospect. “Thanks, Abby. Good to meet you, Ned.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Ned told them, and they trampled down the stairs.

  “Don’t forget to tell him how to get to Leslie’s house,” Abby called out after them. Then she turned back to Ellie. “I probably shouldn’t bring this up again, Ellie, but is there anything you want to talk about, about what you saw up here?”

  Ellie shook her head vehemently. “No. Maybe after I think about it. The lady—Mary—she was scared. But Jack seemed happy to have felt something from her, so I guess it kind of balances out. Maybe they’ll both feel better now.”

  “I hope so, Ellie.”

  Abby shivered, although she wasn’t sure whether it was due to the cold drafts seeping into the attic or what she had just learned about the house she was living in. How would she come to terms with what had happened to Mary? Maybe it sounded silly, but was there some sort of exorcism that they could perform on the house, or at least the attic, that could purge the negative history? She’d have to think about it. Right now she thought both she and Ellie, and maybe Ned, could use some hot chocolate and a meaningful discussion about plumbing fixtures.

  • • •

  George came by to pick up Ellie a couple of hours later, beaming. “You two are lifesavers! Your plumbers showed up and they took care of the problem in no time. Now all that’s left is the mopping up. Ellie? You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, okay, Dad. Thanks for an interesting afternoon, Abby. See you Thursday?”

  “You bet, kid,” Abby said, then stood in the doorway watching the two of them walk toward the car. And trying to remember who knew what. George knew who Ellie’s biological father was, but as far as she knew, Leslie hadn’t told Ellie yet, and Abby didn’t think it was her place to do that. And Leslie hadn’t given Ned permission to, and he had followed her wishes. But after what Ellie had seen in the attic, and what little she knew about girls these days, Ellie would start wondering sooner rather than later. Would Ellie ask her mother, who didn’t possess a single psychic bone in her body, or would she come to Abby first? And Abby had to wonder how she would handle it.

  It was a subdued evening. Abby put together a sketchy supper, only one step above leftovers—and they talked of nothing in particular.

  “You like those guys?”

  “The Maguires? I do. I almost said they’re uncomplicated, and then we discovered that psychic link. What an unlikely string of coincidences! You said earlier you didn’t really know anything about the history of this house when you bought it?”

  “Nothing detailed, mostly when work had been done on it, which was outlined in the sale agreement. I really never gave a thought to that little room in the attic, and I’ve never spent much time up there.” He smiled. “But you and I have already discovered that there are lots of connections we can’t see, at least at first. I hope Jack isn’t too upset.”

  “I think he’s getting used to it now. And I also think that some part of him wants to know more about what happened with Mary, even if it turns out to be unpleasant.”

  “Well, I can certainly respect that.” Ned stood up abruptly. “Let’s forget about the dishes and go make some sparks.”

  Chapter 14

  Sunday

  The sparking was still great, Abby had to admit, but it didn’t solve any problems—like what to do with the rest of her time, when Ned wasn’t available. Sometimes she had to laugh at the fact that Ned had lived in this house for years without noticing a lot of things, not that he’d been tuned into the spirits of abused servant girls in the attic. Who would be? Except a few people like Jack Maguire, who had a direct connection.

  But Abby had yet to figure out any pattern to who connected to who, since occurrences seemed kind of random. Ellie had inherited the ability from Ned. And Sarah had passed it on to Ned, from who knew how many ancestors. The source of Christine’s ability hadn’t been determined. And then there were a couple of plumbers who’d just walked onto the stage and moved the scenery around once again. And
Danny, who was a whole new case. Of course, Abby knew there were more people like those in her close circle out there, but she was both eager and wary about looking for more.

  She hadn’t seen Christine often after their initial encounter at the psychic fair. Christine hadn’t explored much of her “gift” at that point, although now she’d acknowledged it. Still, intuitively she had used that gift to ease the transition or passing or whatever you chose to call it for dying patients. Maybe it was time to talk to her again.

  At breakfast Abby asked, “We have anything scheduled for today?”

  “Nothing beyond chores. Why?”

  “I haven’t seen Christine lately and I thought maybe the two of us could get together. You want to hang out with the guys and watch football?”

  “You might have noticed that I’m not much into watching large grown men deliberately colliding with each other.”

  “Apparently you’re in a minority. A lot of these guys get big salaries to do just that, which suggests that a lot of people are watching them.”

  “I know. And a lot of people watched Roman gladiators get eaten by wild animals,” Ned pointed out.

  “Which means what?” Abby asked.

  “That people like to watch violence. Watch, not take part in.”

  “I’ve always hoped that it’s a way to discharge a basic human lust for violence, without actually engaging in it. I watch, I cheer, and then I turn off the TV. I don’t go out and beat up my neighbor.”

  “Whatever works for you.” Ned stood up. “I think I’m going to replace the seal on the cellar hatch before winter comes for good.”

  “Sounds useful. Especially if it keeps the cellar drier.”

  “When do you think we’ll hear from the Maguires?”

  “I’m guessing tomorrow or Tuesday. They didn’t give us any song and dance about being booked till the New Year. Heck, they haven’t even quoted us a price. But I’m not worried, even if we’re down to one bathroom in the house.”

  After Ned drained his coffee mug and went off to collect his tools, Abby stood up, stretched, and went in search of her phone. She checked her watch: nine a.m. That shouldn’t be too early to call a nurse, should it? Unless Christine kept a lot of late nights, which was quite possible. She wondered if Christine could ever turn off her phone, given how her clients could hardly plan the timing of their own deaths. She might as well try.