Watch for the Dead (Relatively Dead Book 4) (18 page)

Yet Abby lingered a moment longer. “Olivia?” she whispered. “Why were you here?” She didn’t get an answer, but she wasn’t expecting one.

“Abby?” Ned called out from inside. “You ready to go?”

“I am,” she called back. “Do we need to turn in the keys?” she asked as she walked through the house.

“I’ll do that. It’s on the way to the highway. Ellie, you good to go?”

“Yes. I’ll carry Kitten’s box.”

Ned and Ellie—with Kitten—led the way and pulled out first. Abby took one last look at the kitchen and followed, pulling the door shut behind her.
Goodbye, Olivia. Nice seeing you again.
Olivia didn’t answer.

The ride back to Lexington was a little lonely. She was glad that Ned and Ellie would have some time together, without her. Abby had had plenty of time with the child over the summer, but Ellie should get to know Ned as well. The fact that she was alone meant that she had time to think, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it right now. There were a lot of issues bubbling up. Did Ned resent that she wasn’t working at the moment, no matter what he said? Or was that a sexist assumption? His mother had told her that she had worked as a librarian for years, so Ned would have had the example of a working mother. Abby had always planned to look for another job, but that was complicated by the circumstances under which she’d left the Concord Museum. It would look rather odd if Leslie wouldn’t give her a recommendation. She’d hoped that Leslie would eventually come around. Just because Abby had been instrumental in figuring out what was going on with Ellie had nothing to do with her professional abilities. She truly hoped that Leslie would get over her resentment, because it really wasn’t Abby’s fault. Things had been fairly cordial over the summer, when Abby had been spending a day a week with Ellie—but Abby had been careful not to talk about anything sensitive. Still, there was no schedule.

Ned could probably find her a job, with or without Leslie. Did she want that? She sometimes had trouble reconciling the Ned she knew—a pleasant mild-mannered guy, nice to look at, sense of humor, et cetera—with Ned the titan of industry, but she knew from what she’d read that his company was kind of cutting edge in the field of forensic analysis. And he made a lot of money from it, not that he threw it around or spent it on anything obvious.

Her mother expected them to get married. But then, that was what her mother’s generation—well, most of them—did. Times had changed, and expectations had too. A lot of people didn’t get married these days. Women could support themselves. Women could have babies without a man in the house. There were plenty of choices. So what did she want?

She didn’t know. Here she was, in her mid-twenties, and she thought she would have a plan by now, but then all this “seeing” thing had slammed into her, and she was still trying to come to terms with that. She couldn’t imagine trying to explain it to a stranger, but Ned knew all about it. But did that mean she was stuck with Ned for the rest of her life, just to save explaining? She shook her head, even though there was no one to see. She loved Ned. He was a wonderful guy, and she couldn’t ask for anything more. He was great with Ellie. His daughter. Was that going to be a problem? Her mother had seen it quickly. Ellie would have to know sometime soon.

Did she want to have a child with Ned? The idea scared her. She had always assumed she would have children someday, with the right man, but she hadn’t counted on this extra gene or whatever it was. If they did end up mingling their genes, they’d probably end up with a child who would almost certainly see all the family ghosts hanging around. Abby found it hard to imagine handling that in a small child. Maybe they should move to the desert in Arizona first—she didn’t think she had any ancestors there. But that would be cheating. They knew too much now. And she didn’t have to decide right now, did she? She still needed to get a handle on things.

The ride back to Lexington seemed shorter than she remembered. The traffic wasn’t as heavy as she’d been led to believe, and she pulled into the driveway in just under two hours. Ned’s car was already there.

“Slowpoke!” he called out.

“Speeder!” she replied. “You want to go over to Leslie’s now?”

“Might as well—I told her we’d deliver her daughter around lunchtime.”

“Then let’s go.” Abby climbed into the backseat. Ellie was sitting in the front, with Kitten’s box in her lap, her arms wrapped firmly around it. “Hey, sweetie. How did Kitten like the ride?”

“Fine.”

“Your mom and dad will be happy to see you,” Abby tried again.

“Uh-huh.”

Okay, so that’s the way it was going to be. Maybe Ellie was worried about what she’d find when she got home. Or that Leslie would veto the kitten.

“Everybody ready?” Ned asked as he climbed in and buckled his seat belt. Ellie nodded silently.

“Good to go,” Abby said with forced cheerfulness.

The trip to Littleton took little time. Ned parked in front of the house, and Abby extricated herself from the backseat but hung back, unsure of her welcome. Ned opened the door for Ellie, who refused to let go of her box and its cargo. Leslie opened the door to welcome them; she headed for Ellie first but was stymied by Ellie’s box.

“Hey, pumpkin, I missed you. Can I get a hug?”

Grudgingly Ellie put the box down and allowed Leslie to wrap her in a big hug. Leslie looked at Ned and Abby and said, “Hello to you too.”

“Everything okay?” Ned asked, nodding toward the house.

“Good enough,” Leslie said, finally releasing her daughter and standing up. “Peter got back yesterday, but George gets tired quickly. What’s this?” she asked Ellie, who had picked up the box again.

“It’s a kitten,” Ellie said, tightening her arms around the box.

Leslie’s expression changed quickly. “Nobody asked me about a kitten,” she said.

Abby stepped forward. “It wasn’t exactly planned, Leslie. Last Thursday a nasty storm hit the Cape, and we discovered the kitten under the porch at the height of it. We couldn’t exactly leave her there.”

“You could have given it back to its owner,” Leslie said.

“We tried,” Ned said. “We asked all the near neighbors, and nobody was missing a kitten. Given how young she is, it’s unlikely she wandered far, and what were we supposed to do—poll all of Falmouth?”

“I can’t handle a pet right now,” Leslie said, her voice tight.

“Mom! She’s really nice. She’s quiet, and she doesn’t eat much, and she won’t get in anybody’s way. I can keep her in my room,” Ellie pleaded.

“Ellie, getting a pet is something we should talk about, as a family. Do we want a dog or a cat, or a hamster or goldfish? You can’t just show up with a cat like this.”

A little late to say that,
Abby thought.
This is not going well.
Leslie must be more stressed out than she was willing to admit. She looked ready to pitch a fit about a kitten that her daughter was clearly already attached to.

“But she found me, not the other way around!” Ellie protested. “She’s mine.”

“Ellie, I said no. Not right now. Maybe when things settle down, we can all talk about it.”

“No! I want Olivia!” Ellie all but yelled.

Ned laid a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Look, Leslie, we know this is a hard time, and we really didn’t plan this. What about this? We’ll take . . . Olivia to our house for now, until things are calmer. Ellie can visit her there.”

Abby held her breath. Would Leslie see this as an end run, undermining her authority? Or was she just lashing out now, in response to everything that had happened over the past week? She glanced at Ellie, who looked rebellious. She knelt beside her. “Ellie? Why don’t we try this for a little while? Your mom has a lot on her plate right now. We’ll take good care of Olivia for you.”

Ellie looked at Abby, with tears in her eyes. “Promise?”

“Yes, we promise. You need to go see your dad now—I bet he’s missed you.” Abby straightened up and faced Leslie. “Ellie is really attached to the kitten. Why don’t we wait a bit and see how this works out?”

“We’ll talk later,” Leslie spat. “Come on, Ellie—let’s go inside.”

Ellie put down the box carefully and opened it partway. “Bye-bye, Olivia. Be good for Abby and Ned. I’ll come visit as soon as I can.” She closed the lid equally carefully, then straightened up and hugged Abby, then Ned. Then she looked at her mother, her expression carefully neutral, and went inside. Leslie gave them one last glare and followed her daughter.

“Oh, dear,” Abby said after Leslie had shut the door. At least she hadn’t slammed it.

“Well, it wasn’t unexpected,” Ned told her. “We can look out for . . . Ellie did say Olivia, didn’t she?”

“I’m afraid she did. I have no idea what she was thinking. But, yes, I’m happy to take care of the kitten, and see if Leslie calms down.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Ned muttered as they walked to the car.

Once in the car, they drove a few miles before Abby said, “It was a nice vacation, wasn’t it?”

“It was. Although you and I should take one just for us.”

“You didn’t want to spend time with Ellie?”

Ned was silent for a while. “It’s not that, exactly. Leslie would probably be happy if I never spent any time with Ellie, and I can understand that. That was the original plan. But we made up the rules before we knew about . . . this other stuff. That kind of changes things, and we’re still getting used to that. But that wasn’t what I was saying. I want to spend time with
you
. Alone. Just the two of us.”

“Ah. Well, I’d like that too. We just need to plan better. Wait—do you mean you don’t want any ghosts either? Because that’s harder to plan.”

“Maybe we should take a cruise. Or visit Machu Picchu or Antarctica. Unless you had an ancestor who was an explorer?”

“Not that I know of. But I never say never anymore.”

Chapter 19

Back at their house, Abby carried Kitten’s—no, Olivia’s box into the house, set it on the floor, and opened it. Olivia climbed out and looked around, as if trying to find Ellie, and it broke Abby’s heart. She really was a sweet cat, and Olivia and Ellie had bonded instantly. Couldn’t Leslie have at least given her a chance?

After a long stare at Abby, Olivia turned and started exploring the hallway slowly. “Ned,” Abby said, “did we bring back any cat food? Or litter?”

“There’s some left, but obviously we’ll have to stock up. Or there’s frozen chicken, which we could cook. Poor little thing. She’s been through a lot of changes lately.”

“Well, we’ll try to make it up to her. Is there people food?”

“Check the fridge. I think so. This vacation stuff is kind of unsettling, isn’t it?”

“It is—maybe we should practice more often. Are you going back to work tomorrow?”

“Yes. I left a lot of stuff on my desk unfinished.”

“And I appreciate it, believe me. I’ll go shopping tomorrow. For now we can scavenge, once we’ve fed Olivia.” She looked down at the cat, now sitting on its haunches by her feet and looking up at her expectantly. “I hope Ellie doesn’t think this kitten is the reincarnation of the real Olivia, or something like that.”

“I doubt it. But maybe Olivia’s spirit summoned her from wherever she came from. Which we still haven’t figured out.”

“Don’t ask,” Abby told him. “We have enough puzzles without trying to track down where kittens come from.”

“Well, first you find two cats . . .” Ned began. Abby swatted him.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Abby did laundry, marveling at the amount of sand they had somehow managed to bring back. She found a cache of shells that Ellie had collected, which had ended up in Abby’s tote bag, and arranged them on the windowsill over the kitchen sink. She set up a provisional litter pan in the pantry off the kitchen, and Olivia figured it out quickly. She rummaged through the refrigerator and freezer, finding enough food to make something edible, while promising herself that the next day she would go find an open farmers’ market and get fresh veggies. And the few times she sat down, somehow Olivia found her lap and curled up there.

After dinner, Abby and Ned went to bed early. Privacy at the beach house had been in short supply.

• • •

The next morning, Ned disappeared early, after one last, lingering kiss. “I fed Olivia,” he whispered romantically just before he left. A few minutes later Olivia came trotting in, looking for company. She settled herself on Abby’s chest and started purring, her eyes half closed with contentment. “You’re easy to please, kitty,” Abby told her. “A full tummy and a warm body to sit on, and you’re happy.” Olivia did not comment. Abby wondered briefly if she could use her cell phone to text Ellie pictures of Olivia, but decided that Leslie might be annoyed at that.
Just give it time,
Abby told herself.

She got out of bed, showered, and wandered down to the kitchen, where she threw together a makeshift breakfast. As she had told Ned, she needed to shop, but that wasn’t what she wanted to do first. She needed to know more about Olivia, and about her husband, and how Olivia had ended up alone on the Cape, crying in a storm.

Why did she care? She still wasn’t sure. Mostly because some unseen force had taken her to that house, and Olivia had appeared. Either that was a huge cosmic coincidence—heck, she’d never even met Ned’s friend Daniel, who owned the house—or there was some reason behind it that she couldn’t fathom. Either way, there was some basic research she could do from her laptop. If she found a really hot trail, she could easily return to the Cape and look at the original documents.

She sat down at the dining room table and turned on her laptop. What did she know? She had the barest outline on her family tree program, mainly with dates—birth, marriage, death. It was a framework to hang things on, but she wanted more personal information. Which of course was the kind of stuff nobody recorded. Well, she was smart, wasn’t she? She should be able to figure something out.

What were the second-level resources at her disposal, online? Newspapers, more and more of which were being scanned and were now available digitally. City directories, at least for the larger communities, but as she remembered it, Westfield had been pretty suburban around 1900, so there should be directories. She’d already checked wills for Olivia, but had her husband, Samuel, left one? Would it be any more helpful than Olivia’s? Of course, there was always Google: she’d had some important hits just entering a name there and crossing her fingers. Abby was beginning to subscribe to the illogical theory that if these ancestors of hers wanted to be found, somehow they’d pop up through this very modern electronic medium. It was worth trying.