The Ghosts of Aquinnah (25 page)

“
So you don't think the Irishman killed the doctor, right?” Tim asked after she had finished.

“
No, I don't. I think he was innocent and a victim of vigilantes.”

Tim nodded. “I can see how that could have happened. I doubt the island was a very friendly place for Irish immigrants back then.”

“
I don't think anywhere in New England was particularly friendly for the Irish back then,” Hannah said.

“
Right. ‘No Irish Need Apply’ and all that.”

“
Exactly.” Hannah let out a breath. “I think that's one of the main things that interests me about the case to tell you the truth.”

“
How so?”

“
I grew up in Indianapolis and lived there all my life before I came to Harvard. Let's just say when I was growing up there weren't a lot of black people there. In fact, I think my mother and I were it in our neighborhood.”

Tim nodded. “I know a little bit about being an outcast myself.”

Hannah couldn't hide her skepticism. Was he serious? A gorgeous white man with a Harvard education?

“
You?” she asked.

“
Yes, me,” Tim said. “Believe it or not, geeky boys from small towns in Kentucky aren't necessarily welcomed with open arms by the majority of the Harvard student body.”

Hannah leaned back in her chair. “So that's where you're from, Kentucky? I noticed you had a bit of a drawl when I saw you on tv.”

“
I had quite a drawl when I first moved here,” he said. “You should have heard some of the imitations.”

“
I can imagine,” Hannah said. “Okay. So here's to outcasts,” she said, raising her coffee mug.

“
God love 'em,” Tim said, clinking her mug with his own. He took another drink and finished the first half of his sandwich. “So if you don't think the Irishman killed the doctor, who do you think did? Do you have some suspect in mind from your research?”

“
Yes, but I don't think it was murder. I think the doctor killed himself.”

Tim paused, his coffee mug in mid-air. “Why would he have done that?”

“
I don't know. But I'm hoping you can help me figure that out.”

“
Okay,” Tim said, sounding skeptical.

“
Is it possible to tell if someone shot themselves from skeletal remains?”

“
If the bullet hit bone, we may be able to discern something from the angle of the shot. And sometimes we can find gun residue on clothing if it hasn't decayed. But I have to tell you, the odds are not very good.”

“
But not impossible?”

“
No, not impossible.” Tim grinned. “There's not much that's considered impossible in my line of work.”

“
So are you interested?”

“
I haven't said I'm not.”

Hannah finished her coffee and set the mug down on the table. “What would we need to do to exhume the body?”

“
Well, first off, I'd need to get a court order. And work with a funeral home on the island that deals with the cemetery where the man was buried.”

“
It's Abel's Hill in Chilmark.”

Tim nodded. “I think I remember driving past there. Creepy place.”

“
Yes, it is.”

“
We also need to make sure that no relatives object to the exhumation, but I can't imagine that will be an issue here.”

“
Dr. Winslow didn't have any children. There shouldn't be any descendants to object.”

“
Well that always makes it easier.”

Hannah bit her lip. “I can hire you as a consultant but I have to be upfront, I don't have a lot of money to pay you.”

“
You don't have to pay me,” Tim said.

“
No, I should. I want to be professional about this.”

“
Well let's just say I'm doing this pro-bono to start.”

“
Why would you do that?”

“
Like I told you, it interests me. And at the risk of sounding like an egotistical jackass, I really don't need the money. I might have only lasted one season on tv but that was enough to give me more money than I ever dreamed of having.”

Hannah smiled. “Kentucky boy makes good.”

“
Yep. They wouldn't believe it back in the holler.”

“
Are you really from the holler?” Hannah asked, trying not to laugh.

“
No. I'm from a town just outside Lexington. Everything was about basketball and bourbon and horses where I grew up, not backwoods hills.”

“
Well okay, so you don't need the money. I still don't feel right not paying you for your time.”

“
You can buy me a meal, how's that?”

“
You mean you want me to pay for your lunch?”

“
No, I was actually trying to find a clever way to ask you to go out to dinner with me. I'm thinking now it wasn't that clever.”

“
No, I think I was just being an idiot,” Hannah said, blushing. “I get it now.”

“
Well I hope so since I just spelled it out for you.”

Hannah laughed. “Alright, I'll take you to dinner. You pick the place.”

“
Sounds good. I'll make sure I pick somewhere expensive so you know I'm not cheap.” Tim glanced at his watch and took a last swallow of coffee. “Believe me when I say Ms. Forrester...”

“
Hannah”

Tim smiled. “Hannah. Believe me when I say I am very sorry to have to wrap this lunch up. But I have to get to class.” He scanned the room for the waitress, frowning when he couldn't find her.

“
Oh, that's okay. I'll wait for the waitress and take care of the check. That way I'll know for sure you're not cheap.”

Tim laughed and stood up from the table. “Thank you. And I'll be in touch about our dinner.”

“
What about our case?”

“
Oh sure, that too,” Tim said, grinning. “I'll get started on the court order.”

“
Thank you.”

Tim nodded and left the table. Hannah poured herself another cup of coffee and went over the lunch in her head. She couldn't actually believe he had agreed to take on the Winslow case. And she also couldn't believe how excited she was about the chance to work with him.

****

A week passed before Hannah heard from Tim again. She opened her email and found another reply to her original message to him.

“
I was working so hard on being smooth I forgot to get your number. Call me.”

He then added his cell and office number.

Hannah decided to take a more professional approach and dialed his Harvard office.

He answered on the second ring. “Tim Corcoran.”

“
Hello, Tim. It's Hannah Forrester.”

“
Hannah. Great to hear from you.”

“
Do you have news for me?”

“
I do. First off, it turns out there's only one funeral home on the Vineyard, so finding out who deals with Abel's Hill was easy. It's the Hammond Funeral Home in Vineyard Haven.”

Hannah remembered driving past the home hundreds of times when driving through the town, but couldn't have told anyone the name if her life depended on it. It wasn't something you paid attention to on summer vacation.

“
Okay, that's good. Were you able to get a court order?”

“
Yes, I was. And the Hammond people didn't give me any argument. Apparently the funeral director was another one of the select few who watched “History's Mysteries.”

Hannah smiled through the phone. “Your fame precedes you.”

“
It has its benefits.”

“
So what's next?”

“
I was hoping I could take you up on that dinner offer.”

“
Well, okay. But what about my case?”

“
I was thinking we could have dinner on the island. I have a few free days and I thought now would be as good a time as any to go see if we can figure out what happened to Dr. Winslow. Can you get away?”

“
Yes, I definitely can!” Hannah couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice.

She heard Tim's chuckle on the other end of the line.

“
I don't know if I've ever heard anyone so anxious to go dig up bones. Except for me, of course.”

“
I didn't expect to be able to go with you,” Hannah said. “I'm not sure what I expected, but I guess I thought I'd just have to wait for a report from you.”

“
It's your story. I thought you'd want to go. Maybe seeing the process will help with your book.”

“
Thank you,” Hannah said.

“
Okay, so when do you want to go grave robbing with me?”

“
Whenever you can get away is fine with me. The best thing about freelancing is that I'm flexible.”

“
Alright. Well, I have class tomorrow afternoon and then I'm done for the week. Want to leave Thursday morning?”

“
Sure. I'll make a boat reservation. I think we'll be okay this early in the season.”

“
I'm counting on you to take me to the best restaurant on the island.”

Hannah smiled. “I will. Let me think about it.”

“
Okay then. I can pick you up on Thursday morning.”

“
Great. I'll text you my address and a boat time as soon as I make our reservation.”

“
Perfect. Looking forward to it, Hannah.”

“
Me too. Thank you again.”

Hannah ended the call and paced around her bedroom before sitting down and booting up her laptop. She couldn't resist looking at the webcam. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of Stella on the steps leading up to the overlook.

Still, Hannah stared down at the driveway and green hills heading down to the sea and imagined that somehow Stella was there.

“
I'm going to find out what really happened, Stella,” she whispered. “I promise.”

****

Hannah drove along South Road towards Abel's Hill Cemetery while Tim sat silently in the passenger seat and watched the passing scenery. The funeral home director drove behind them in a hearse. Hannah couldn't get over the strangeness of a hearse for a man who had been dead for more than 125 years. The closer she got to the centuries old cemetery, the more she wondered if she had made the right decision in accompanying Tim to the grave site.

It wasn't just the weirdness of digging up a long-buried corpse. She also felt darkness closing around her as soon as she and Tim had arrived at the funeral home and seen the hearse. As if no time had passed at all, she was back at the funeral home in Indianapolis, trying to maintain her composure as she made arrangements for the burial of her parents. She hadn't been near a funeral home since, and she realized now that she wished she could still say that.

Still, she had started this whole thing in motion and it was only right to see it through. Without her, neither Tim nor the funeral home workers would be spending their day digging up a grave and bringing the remains of Josiah Winslow back up to the surface. And, in spite of her personal issues, she felt certain that whatever they found in Josiah's grave was going to be the answer to the mystery of what Stella wanted her to know.