Chapter 4 Ben
FOUR
BEN
After breakfast, Erik called Haley and Monty to arrange times to get together and asked Alessia to reinforce the shop’s protections, then he and Ben headed to the oldest cemetery in Cape May.
“Grant Samuels, the collector from Wildwood, was a very wealthy man who made his money in shipping and freight,” Erik said as they drove. “Suspected to be a witch.”
“Those are businesses that historically have a lot of ties to organized crime,” Ben supplied. “But if he lived in Wildwood, why was he buried in Cape May?”
“Good question, and I have no idea,” Erik admitted. “If I had to guess, I’d say that since he was a witch, he might have thought that Cold Spring Cemetery held more magical energy than the options in Wildwood because it’s much older.”
“I guess that’s possible,” Ben said.
“Wildwood is known for its haunted attractions, fake vampire castles, zombie mazes, and that sort of thing,” Erik added. “But Cape May is one of the most truly haunted towns in the Eastern U.S. Maybe that mattered to Samuels as well.”
“Because he didn’t want to be lonely after he croaked?” Ben grinned. “I guess I’ve heard stranger things. But what’s the connection to the Tiffany glass?”
“The Tiffany cemetery markers,” Erik replied. “Samuels already owned an angel statue that was a real Tiffany. By the time he commissioned his own headstone, the Tiffany company was no longer doing that kind of work, so he hired a talented stone carver to do one for him in the same style.”
“Do you expect to find a clue of some sort at the grave?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know what we’ll find. Maybe nothing. I’d be surprised if Samuels’s ghost was still hanging around, but he might if he had a strong enough purpose,” Erik replied. “If we can’t find him there, maybe Haley can summon his spirit.”
Cold Spring Cemetery dated back to the 1700s. Ben felt the hair on his arms rise, which usually meant strong ghosts close by. He saw Erik stiffen as soon as they got out of the car and guessed his partner also sensed the spirits.
“Ghosts?” he confirmed.
Erik nodded. “Lots of them. The cemetery was started by the people who founded the village of Cold Spring. It’s a living history museum now, but back in the day, those early settlers braved hurricanes and pirates to put down stakes. The historic village area is said to be very haunted.”
“Isn’t everything around here?” Ben asked, only partly in jest.
“It certainly feels like it,” Erik replied. “I’ve always been interested in going to the Village when it’s open, but so far there have been other priorities.”
Ben snickered at the understatement. Since they both moved to Cape May, hauntings and unfinished business from their prior jobs kept them busy.
The old cemetery wasn’t fancy, just row upon row of old headstones surrounded by an iron fence, right beside a brick church. They parked and got out, walking toward the entrance.
“You know we’re being followed,” Ben said quietly.
“Yeah, since we left the shop. Pretty sure it’s the plainclothes detective,” Erik said. “If it isn’t, we’re likely to find out soon.”
No one else was around, so if their tail wasn’t a protector, he was likely to make his move despite them being on consecrated ground.
Erik pulled out his phone and opened the cemetery map he had found earlier. Then he navigated toward the plot where Samuels was buried.
The headstone was almost stark compared to others known to have been actually designed by Tiffany.
An Art Deco-styled cross surrounded by the carved lilies that were a hallmark of Tiffany projects marked Samuel’s final resting place, with his dates and name on the opposite side of the stone from the carving.
“There’s no angel,” Ben said when they arrived.
Erik spotted a small placard on a stake and moved to read it. “They moved the angel to the St. Expeditus by the Sea compound,” he reported.
“And if it had magic, the nuns would be able to deal with it,” Ben said.
“That, too.” Erik went still, and Ben stood quietly, waiting to see if Erik would receive a vision. Their plainclothes tail stayed near the cemetery entrance, giving them space but still close enough in case of trouble. Ben didn’t see any other living people inside the graveyard.
“Grant Samuels, are you here?” Erik murmured. The wind picked up, sharply cold. Ben didn’t know if that was a response or just coincidence.
Several minutes passed and no vision manifested. Erik shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Nothing. No vision, no visible ghost,” he told Ben. “You?”
Ben shook his head.
“Maybe Monty or Haley will have better luck.”
“Do you think it’s worth arranging a visit to the convent to see the angel statue?” Ben asked.
“Probably,” Erik replied as they headed back to the car. He saluted the cop, who nodded in response and got back in his vehicle. “It might not have any clues, but since we aren’t entirely sure what we’re looking for, I’m hoping we know it when we see it.”
They swung by the beach on their way back into town. Rain had held off so far, but ominous dark clouds hung on the horizon, threatening more storms.
“Just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Monty joked when he opened the lighthouse door.
“I’ll never turn down an excuse to go to the beach,” Ben replied.
“Me, neither. But we also wanted to see how the ghost situation was responding to the storms,” Erik added.
Monty’s gaze slid past them to where Ben suspected Jon’s spirit stood. “Jon says the energy has been weird. Not as bad as when there have been hurricanes, but it makes him feel jangly, like too much sugar and coffee.”
“Stronger?” Erik pressed.
Monty hesitated as if listening and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Picking up anything potentially dangerous from the old railroad tracks or the military locations?” Erik asked.
Cape May had been an important strategic location during World War II.
People still told stories about German U-boats prowling the shore or a spy being shot off the top of the tall lookout tower that kept a watch for enemy ships.
A solid concrete bunker anchored the shore, which once housed a gun battery and a radio transmitting station, all now decommissioned.
Monty stopped to listen, and Ben figured Jon was giving him an earful.
“The ghosts haunting the railroad tracks aren’t like the usual beach spirits from drownings or boating accidents,” Monty explained.
“They’re angry because the ‘accidents’ that killed them were usually due to companies cutting corners on safety or not protecting them from dangerous materials.
Of course, the people responsible have been dead for decades, and the companies are long gone. ”
“Are they dangerous? Can they find some kind of peace?” Ben asked.
“We keep an eye on them,” Monty replied. “Usually, they leave the tourists alone. With all the storm energy, they’ve been more active, but so far they haven’t threatened or hurt anyone.”
“As for finding peace, Jon and I have sent all the active ghosts who will go, either to the convent or on to the other side,” Monty told them. “Some repeaters remain, but I don’t think they are strong enough to cause problems.”
It still surprised Ben that Cape May had few wartime ghosts, given all the fortifications. Then again, the bunker and watch tower never saw the level of combat that their builders feared.
“Jon says that at various times, the Mob used both the bunker and the tower for dead drops,” Monty reminded them. “Not recently, but also not that long ago.”
Monty paused again. “Jon says you should talk to the nuns. They take in wayward and lost spirits and have gathered a lot of them off the beach over the years. Jon never wanted to go with them, but the nuns still come through every so often looking for more wandering souls.”
Ben and Erik exchanged a look. “I don’t know if they could tell us anything, even if they have ghosts there with information. Seal of the confessional and all that,” Erik said.
“Can’t hurt to ask,” Monty said. “Maybe there’s a ghost or two who want to unburden themselves before they go on.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” Erik replied.
“The nuns aren’t just mediums, right?” Ben tried to remember what he had read. “They also have pretty strong defensive magic, if I remember right.” The sisters didn’t mingle much with the residents of Cape May, but they weren’t complete recluses when they could be of help.
“Jon says that during the war they cared for the injured and the families of soldiers from the area who were killed or missing in action,” Monty relayed.
“And later, after he was a ghost himself, Jon says he realized that some of the nuns must have magic or precognition because they served as unofficial advisors to the military when the threat level was high.”
“Huh. Spying nuns,” Ben said. “That’s a new one.”
“We were hoping they would see us, because they have a Tiffany angel statue that belonged to Samuels,” Erik said. “No idea if it ties in with the window drama, but it’s worth checking.”
“How is Haley handling your brand of weirdness?” Monty asked with a grin.
“We’ve kinda thrown her into the deep end with a few things, and she’s dealt with it like a pro,” Erik replied proudly.
“She’s good, and her schedule is more flexible than mine,” Monty said.
“I also want to introduce you to a priest who has helped us out when we needed an exorcism or help with some really bad mojo. Father Dennis Moore. He knows about the supernatural and believes in it. Has some magic in addition to the power of the Church. I’ll text you his contact information and let him know you’ll be in touch. ”
“Thank you,” Ben said. “I’m hoping the situation doesn’t escalate, but if it does, we’ll need all the help we can get.” Erik nodded in agreement.
“We’ll holler if anything interesting happens around here,” Monty promised. “Jon’s on the lookout. Keeps him out of trouble.”
Monty reacted as Jon’s ghost elbowed him. Ben and Erik laughed.