29
Heard you had some excitement last night!”
Raquel opened the front door to a beaming Betty Jenkins. The silver-haired historian was all bundled up against the weather and had arrived bearing gifts.
“Zucchini bread. Grew the squash myself.”
Another bright smile. Raquel wasn’t fooled for an instant. She knew a gossip hound when she saw one. Speaking of which, Mr. Man bustled over to greet the newcomer enthusiastically. Or steal the treat.
“Sounds like there were all sorts of happenings around town,” Betty continued now, patting the dog on the head.
“Word on the street is the fire department deployed on another recovery mission. Thought I might see their vehicles here, given how things’ve been going.
But looks like they’re farther up the road. ”
Apparently, there was no getting around this visit. Then again, two could play at the information game. Raquel ushered the woman in.
The battered old journal was in full view on the dining room table.
At this point, it hardly mattered. Theo had swept up the shattered light bulb and put the living room to rights by the time she and the dog had returned last night.
Unfortunately the diary, already barely intact, had split into several pieces.
Theo had retrieved each chunk of papers.
Now Raquel was working on reassembly, mostly to keep herself busy while she awaited an update from Chief Grady.
Last night, the police chief had sworn her to secrecy, not that there was much to tell.
To Betty’s point, their mysterious stray dog discovering mysterious human bones was becoming an all-too-common occurrence.
Theo appeared, flashing his trademark grin. The older woman feigned swooning. He laughed, taking the bread, then hanging up her coat and promising her a cup of coffee, two sugars, no cream. At least one of them felt up to playing well with others.
Raquel was tired and anxious and preoccupied. She, Theo, and the dog had spent the rest of the night huddled on the sofa in front of a roaring fire. Theo had held her tight and whispered reassuring words of nonsense. She’d stared at the flames and shuddered uncontrollably.
“Knew you had it!” Betty exclaimed now, crossing over to the journal’s earthly remains. “When Mason came back in and demanded to know where I’d shelved it…Well played, my dear, well played. So what have you learned?”
Raquel shrugged.
“Come now, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
“You go first.”
Betty practically clapped her hands in glee. Just then, Theo returned with a steaming mug of coffee. Betty accepted it gracefully, turning to include him in the conversation.
“This town has a legend…of witches!” The old woman raised her voice dramatically at the final word.
“I knew it!” Theo was already all in.
So this is what Betty and Mason had been dancing around yesterday afternoon.
“One winter, a mysterious young woman appeared, half frozen, nearly starving. The villagers offered her food and shelter. In return, she assisted the elderly, administered to the sick, and tended childbirths. Except then…babies started dying.
“You know how these things go—they blamed the outsider. She must be a witch. To test that theory, they tied rocks around her waist and prepared to throw her into an icy pond. Right before they tipped her in, however, the young woman uttered a curse. She was not a witch, but as they had made her suffer, so they would suffer, losing one child every year. And that, they say, is exactly what happened.”
“You think this diary proves a real-world basis for the story,” Raquel filled in. “An account of the five infant deaths that inflamed the towns’ sensibilities and led to a young woman’s murder.”
“Exactly.” Betty set down her mug, gazing at the battered pages.
“I believe this ledger, even in its current state of disrepair, might be one of the single most important historic documents for this town. I can understand anyone with an ounce of curiosity wanting to borrow it.” She gave Raquel a smile. “But I must ask for it back.”
Raquel considered the woman. Then: “No.”
For the first time, Betty appeared flustered. For that matter, so did Theo. “But if it’s part of Shereford’s history,” he began.
“It’s property of the historical society!” Betty interjected more forcefully.
“Prove it.” Then, when Betty continued to gape at her: “Do you know the name of the journal owner? Do you absolutely, positively know her place in this town?”
“Well…I mean…These are things to be determined.”
“Which is exactly what I’m doing.”
“You’re doing?”
“Yes. I’ve already learned her name.” Kind of. “I’m tracing her origins.”
Betty, no longer so amused. “You’re an outsider—”
“So was she. At least that’s what you’re positing. Besides, according to your theory, the most important accounts would be the entries of the previously unrecorded infants. Those records are all part of the midwife’s medical ledger, now in the custody of the state police. Take your fight to them.”
Betty appeared genuinely appalled. Theo, God bless him, had subtly shifted until he stood next to Raquel. United front. He had her back; he always had her back.
Which made her eyes burn, because she genuinely didn’t deserve him, and given last night’s news clip, it was only a matter of time before he discovered the same. Nothing good lasts forever. She’d always known that.
Hands sticky with blood…the screams of her siblings in her ears.
Now you’re just like me.
Stop it stop it stop it.
Then, because the best defense was a good offense: “Tell me why you really want the diary.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“What’s really in this thing? Or what does someone believe might be in this thing? Because thieves don’t generally break into homes to steal books. And yet last night, one did.”
Betty, blinking rapidly. “I…I don’t know,” she stated abruptly. Sighed. Sat down hard on one of the chairs. Mr. Man placed his head on her lap, offered a comforting tail wag. She stroked his head. “This journal, finding it now, knowing Janet Dixon had it last. It bothers me. It all bothers me.”
“You guessed I had it,” Raquel pressed. “Mason surely knows I have it. Who else?”
“Dear Lord, in this community? Gossip is what we do best.”
“What about ATVs? How many people own one?”
“Again, in this community…”
Raquel huffed in frustration. She wanted answers.
She wanted to know what was going on in this crazy town and her tragic property and, oh, yeah, what exactly the police chief had found in the woods last night.
She also wanted to curl up in her husband’s arms and forget she’d ever lived a different life, in a different time and place.
“I’ve gone through the volume multiple times,” she offered finally. “If there are deep, dark secrets in this diary, I didn’t see them.”
“May I?”
“Well, as long as you’re enjoying your cup of coffee.”
Theo pulled out a chair for himself, watching as Betty delicately handled each section of pages.
As was the practice, the volume was comprised of a series of “signatures,” groups of folded sheets that were layered on top of one another, then stitched together.
In theory, each section bore a printer’s mark on the first few pages to help guide the binder.
Raquel had hoped to identify the marks—generally either alphabetic, section A, B, C, or numeric—to assist in the reassembly.
Mostly, however, she’d identified random dark smudges, making the entire process slow going.
Now Betty donned her reading glasses, then held up one of the less damaged sheets to the overhead light. “A,” she murmured.
“How can you tell?” Raquel wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or indignant.
“Practice, dear. I’ve handled dozens of old and rare volumes in my time. You…” The older woman gave her a look over her readers. “I’m guessing not so much.”
Raquel sat down, feeling thoroughly put in her place. Theo, she noticed, was biting back a grin. She smacked his leg. His smile grew broader.
Whatever Raquel might think of the older woman’s intrusion, she did know her business.
In under an hour, with a bit of debate and haggling over was that a letter O or smudged letter C, they had the journal mostly set to rights.
Nothing they could do about the broken stitching, but apparently Betty knew a guy who could assist with such a thing.
They were both more interested in the entries anyway.
“I’m telling you, it’s all very basic. Weather, location, followed by key activity of the day, from making jam to delivering a baby,” Raquel related.
“No gossip, or shocking events, or even tragic news from her own life or others. If this woman—Rita Louise Light I think is her name—had feelings about the babies dying, she didn’t include them.
If she suspected her neighbors were turning against her, she doesn’t mention it.
Even where she came from, which sounds like a bit of a mystery, nothing.
As diaries go, I’d consider it short on personal revelations. ”
“Mmm-hmm. More coffee, dear?” The woman eyed Theo, who promptly jumped to it.
As he headed back to the kitchen, Betty turned to Raquel and whispered, “That is one fine-looking man. I loved my husband, mind you. We had our trials and tribulations, but I’ve never regretted our time together.
Still, I wouldn’t have minded coming home to that every night. ”
“Oh, please, he’s ridiculously handsome and he knows it. Most days, I just have to hope he uses his superpowers for good.” Raquel nudged the woman, capable of some insights of her own. “So…Mason?”
A definitely girlish giggle, then Betty slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were still dancing, however.