Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Natalie glanced around her and decided this might be the oddest meeting ever held in this room.
At least it was during her tenure as owner of the old converted train depot.
Although she had trouble imagining a stranger gathering happening during the building’s hundred and thirty year history before her arrival in Mudville.
They’d planned this meeting for after the shop closed when there’d be no customers to disturb them.
Gabe had requested they schedule the meeting for later in the evening as well. He needed time to get word to the other ghosts. Particularly the longest dead among their community, a good number of them Quakers who stuck mostly to the historic cemetery at the far end of town.
Gabe was right, of course. Some of those spirits could very well be of the same vintage as the documents they’d found. Their combined memories could hold the answers to all the questions the livings had. And Natalie, for one, had plenty of questions…
The ink was faded on the fragile discolored pages, and the fancy script handwriting and elaborate wording on what looked to be legal papers was far more suited for a seventeenth century barrister than twenty-first century lay people to decipher.
Most of the meaning of the words eluded Natalie, but she could make out a few familiar names.
Mudd and Axtell of course, both families well-known in this part of the state and currently the focus of Natalie’s research as she tried to prove Graves wrong.
There was also a William Fitch, a name Natalie had not heard before, but she had no doubt someone among those gathered would know something about him.
All in all, it was an odd mix of humans and ghosts currently leaning over the folding tables Liam had carried in and set up, upon which the ledger, map, and many delicate old papers were spread.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, although the livings who couldn’t see the dead, which was everyone there except for Natalie, didn’t realize that.
Alice Mudd bent low, squinting at a page of the ledger, while unbeknownst to her, two of the oldest ghosts among them hovered close by, waiting for her to turn the page.
Rick, self-proclaimed president of the ghost council, along with Harriet, who acted as the council’s ad hoc secretary, were interviewing ghosts to determine if they knew anything about anyone mentioned in the papers.
Harper was taking photos of each paper with her phone while her Great Aunt Agnes stood nearby, reading glasses perched on her nose as she alternated between studying the papers on the table and the pages of Graves’ Guide to the Prominent Founding Families of Upstate New York.
It was the only copy of the book Natalie had allowed to remain in the shop, and only for research purposes to help with the destruction of the professor’s reputation.
Meanwhile in front of the newly exposed fireplace Liam was in a deep discussion with Gabe and Millie.
By some unexplained miracle they’d discovered about a year ago that while the two ghosts were together, livings could hear them without Natalie as go-between.
They’d figured that out after Natalie and Gabe had discovered Millie living in Agnes and Harper’s guest room.
The hearth currently blazed, crackling with the firewood Liam had brought home from Morgan Farm. Determined, the damn man had somehow managed to get the chimney inspected and clean up the messy hole in the wall in record time.
Men and fire—that connection had survived millennia and by the evidence before her was still as strong as ever.
But Natalie couldn’t worry about the fire. She had a roomful of people to address. Being a leader wasn’t in her DNA, but she probably should say something to this oddball crew she’d assembled.
“Hello. Hello, everyone.”
The livings in the room quieted, but the ghosts mostly ignored Natalie. Understandable since they weren’t used to someone alive seeing or speaking to them.
Gabe came to the rescue with a loud, “Quiet!”.
Respecting one of their own, the ghosts in the room eventually became silent and Natalie could speak.
“Uh, um, first, thank you all for coming. Now I guess what we need to do is gather all the information from various sources and figure out what all this stuff means.”
Alice Mudd, all four foot nine inches or so of her, took a step forward.
Her ninety years on this earth had not softened her but had instead sharpened her tongue.
She never pulled any punches and Natalie could see from her posture and her expression, something big was about to come out of her mouth now.
“I’ll tell you what all this stuff means,” Alice began, spittle flying. “Your beloved Axtell family who you all praise for their contributions to our community since the founding of Mudville are a bunch of liars and thieves!”
Her accusation broke the silence. The volume of the various conversations, debates and what looked like one near fight rose to an absolute din.
Natalie glanced around and tried to decide who to approach first. Alice, who was now ranting animatedly to Agnes and Harper.
Or the two older male ghosts about to come to blows.
She didn’t know their names but the situation begged the question, could a spirit be knocked out by a punch?
Curiosity had her wanting to find out even as Gabe strode over to get in between the two as they argued.
The reaction of the livings and the dead proved one thing—the Axtells vs the Mudds was one controversial, hotly contested topic. And she wasn’t mad about that.
There had to be something there at the crux of it all. With any luck it would be the nail in Professor Lionel Graves’s professional coffin. And Natalie would be the one holding the hammer.