Chapter Seventeen
Oh no, Willow thought, oh no, oh, please, no … Her heart was racing again and gooseflesh rippled over her skin as she remembered the broken railing on the roof walk of Cameron House. “The news article said she fell, but—” She stopped.
Catherine nodded grimly. “She was up on the widow’s walk. No one knows why. Part of the wood railing was weak or damaged; she must have leaned on it wrong, lost her balance, and fell. They found her the next morning—” Catherine shuddered.
“An accident?” Willow asked. “Sue would never have stood for rotten wood in her house, let alone fallen through it.”
Catherine’s eyes turned sharply to hers. “There was no evidence to indicate otherwise or that there was anyone in the house with her, but…” Catherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
“But what?”
Catherine fidgeted nervously, shifting papers on her desk. “Well … do you believe in ghosts?”
Willow went very still. “Why do you ask?”
The librarian ducked her head, seeming embarrassed. “Everyone says the island is haunted, and especially Cameron House. People … see things.”
“What do they see?” Willow asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.
“You hear stories, that’s all,” Catherine said, “especially about that widow’s walk.
The island workmen hate it and always charged Effie double to go up, and they were thrilled when Sue turned out to be handy enough to take care of most of the repairs herself.
People would … feel things up there. Folks don’t talk about it much, but people who go up there once rarely do again. ”
Small wonder, Willow thought. She said, “So, people think one of the Cameron House ghosts killed Sue? That’s…” Willow had been going to say ridiculous, but given her recent experience, she couldn’t quite get the word out.
“No—no, of course not,” Catherine said quickly.
“The police did their jobs—they found no sign of anyone else in the house, no break-in, no signs of struggle. But I’m guessing they spent as little time up there as possible.
In any case, there was nothing to indicate that anyone had been in that house that night except for Sue. ”
Be careful who you trust, Geralt had said. Willow may not have been entirely sure about Rina, but every instinct in her wanted to trust Catherine. And she had the feeling she would need the librarian’s sharp and organized brain to piece any of this together.
Willow took a deep breath. “Last night, I saw someone prowling around the first floor of Cameron House,” she said.
“Or rather, I saw a flashlight moving room to room as though someone were going through searching for something.” And then I saw what might have been a ghost peering out a little window in the roofline, she thought, but maybe I don’t need to say that part right now.
“Wait, really?” Catherine’s eyes widened. “Did you tell Nick?”
Willow winced. “No. Not yet. I honestly … forgot. And then this morning when I went over there—”
Catherine’s eyebrows went up. “When you what?”
Willow’s shoulders hunched, and she looked away, embarrassed. “I know. I didn’t mean to, but Finn ran away and ducked into the house, and I went inside to bring him back out, but then I was already there, so…” She trailed off.
“So you went exploring,” Catherine said, looking completely unsurprised. “What happened?”
Willow reached back into her bag and pulled out the typed sheet of paper she’d found on the stairs. She handed it to Catherine, who frowned. “What’s this?”
“I found it on the stairs,” Willow said. “Or rather, it floated down the stairs to me.”
Catherine took the paper and examined it. “‘Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall’—that’s Sir Walter Raleigh, I think? He supposedly carved it into a window for Queen Elizabeth. The story’s apocryphal, but it’s said that she wrote an answer—”
“Turn it over,” Willow said simply. Catherine did.
“‘If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all.’ That’s the one.” She looked up curiously at Willow. “This just … drifted down the stairs to you?”
Willow nodded.
“And did you take its advice and … climb?”
Willow nodded again. “I found the widow’s walk. And the broken railing. And—” She looked away. “I don’t want to go up there any time soon again either.”
She gave her head a single hard shake. “Okay, let’s … let’s put a pin in that one. I have another question, if you don’t mind?”
Catherine nodded slowly. “Okay. Does it have to do with more ghosts or weird stuff at the house?”
“No,” Willow said. “At least, I don’t think so.
What can you tell me about the North Islands Historical Society?
There’s a sign outside Cameron House, but I can’t find any proper information about them.
” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m a research nerd too, but faced with groups that don’t have an online presence, I get stymied pretty fast. Who are they? ”
Catherine smiled ruefully. “Don’t feel bad; the society has been full analog since the beginning, and Effie and Sue were their only official living members as far as I know.
There are boxes back in the library’s archives I could hook you up with.
I can’t let you take anything out of the building, but you’re welcome to scan or photograph anything you’d find useful. ”
Willow brightened. “That sounds fantastic; I’ll take you up on it, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem,” Catherine said. “Here, I’ll show you—there’s no one in the library, anyway, and I can get you set up.”
Willow followed her to the back of the building, into a small box-filled room with an ARCHIVES AND ISLAND HISTORY sign on the door.
“This stuff was stored in the basement for years,” Catherine said, gesturing Willow inside, “so I can’t vouch for the state it’s in.
When I took over this job, I moved anything that looked vaguely important out of the damp belowground, but there may be mold in here—aha!
” Her gaze lit on a haphazard pile of boxes in the corner.
“Here it is; I’m betting most of what you’re looking for will be in this stack over here.
Effie and Sue were organizing some of this in their efforts to get official historical status for the house.
Rina was helping them; she had the idea of adding the house to their vacation rental properties as a luxury inn or B she set it on the rickety card table in the best-lit side of the basement. “So that’s what Geralt was talking about yesterday morning when he and Rina argued before the funeral. He accused her of trying to get the house for herself after Sue died.”
Catherine shook her head. “I don’t think that’s true, even if it were possible. Sue died before their wedding, and neither of them had made a will yet; they’d planned to do it after they got married. Rina has no claim on the house at all, she’s just advocating for what she believes Sue wanted.”
“What about that Hank guy?” Willow asked. “He was dropping hints about wanting to build a resort on the property? It made me wonder if that’s what this historical society was trying to prevent.”
“Is that what he was going on about?” Catherine rolled her eyes. “I saw he had you cornered for a while there at the reception before everything went off the rails.”
“That guy.” Willow shook her head wearily. “He was talking about Cameron House, how there are no proper hotels on the island and what a shame it is the old house is sitting on such a beautiful piece of land.”
Catherine snorted as she set another box onto the table next to the first. “Hank Ramsey has been angling to get hold of the Cameron property for years. Sue and Rina told me about it; he would show up at Effie’s doorstep every so often trying to convince her to sell him the house, but she told him to buzz off.
” She grimaced. “And it’s not like they were the only ones after the property.
Like Mr. Ramsey says, it’s incredibly valuable land, and for decades now, it’s been just the one old woman in that huge house.
She’s had more developers circling than this island has mosquitoes in July. ”
Willow frowned. “So … Effie left the house to Sue. When Sue died with no spouse or heirs or will, it reverted back to Geralt, Effie’s last living relative?”
“That was in Effie’s will too: If Sue died without issue or spouse, the house went back to the youngest living member of the Cameron line,” Catherine replied.
“What happens if Geralt dies? Who gets the house then?”
Catherine looked up at Willow; the two women’s eyes locked as the librarian saw at last where Willow had been going with her questions.
“I … suppose it would go to Geralt’s spouse?
Naomi?” Catherine hesitated, speaking carefully.
“Look, like I said, there was no evidence anywhere that Sue’s death was anything but an accident.
No forced entry, no sign of anyone else in the house. ”
“And Effie?” Willow’s voice was carefully neutral.
Catherine said, just as carefully, “There was no indication Effie’s death was from anything other than natural causes either. An old woman, passing in her sleep at ninety-nine years of age.” She paused. “But.”
Willow nodded and gave her a mirthless smile. “But. With Geralt lying in the hospital in a coma, only alive at all due to fast medical intervention, that’s three heirs to the most valuable property on the island who’ve died or almost died over a two-month period.”
“Not just three,” Catherine said in a hushed voice, “but the only three. The last three.”
“The last three,” Willow repeated. She looked sharply at Catherine. “You’ve been thinking about this too, haven’t you?” she asked.
The librarian didn’t answer, refusing to meet Willow’s eyes.
“But you haven’t said anything. Not to Diana and Mac, and not to Rina.” She hesitated. “Look, I know you care about Rina, but are you absolutely, entirely sure that she couldn’t have—”
“Hey, you two!” Mac’s voice came brightly from the doorway; Catherine and Willow jumped in surprise, whirling around to face her. “I brought goodies—Mom made way more than we needed for today’s morning rush, so—” She stopped, seeing their faces. “What’s up? What’s going on?”
Willow caught Catherine’s eye and shook her head infinitesimally; Catherine understood and said, “Nothing. We were puzzling over some things.” She forced a smile. “Got any scones?”