“Someone was killed and they had the map?” Johanna asked.
Morgan nodded. “It looked like they were burned. Probably with paranormal energy, but I’m sure the police will explain it as something else.”
“Too bad you didn’t snag the map,” Mateo said.
“Brody kicked me out. I was hoping the picture was enough.”
“We should print it out and compare it to the one from Eliza. Email it to me.” Morgan did as instructed while Johanna wheeled her chair around and headed for the sitting room next to the kitchen where they kept a printer and laptop.
“What’s burning?” Jolene appeared in the doorway, her brown hair tussled like she'd gotten out of bed without bothering to straighten it. Which she probably had. Her light blue eyes grew wide as she noticed Mateo who had turned his attention back to the stove in order to rescue the bacon from being burnt to a crisp. “Uh-oh, this can’t be good.” Her brows crept up as she glanced at Morgan for confirmation.
“Well, I don’t know if Mateo cooking breakfast is good or not, but I did make a discovery downtown that isn’t so good.”
“Oh?”
“She found a map,” Mateo said, his back still turned.
“And you think it has something to do with Eliza’s map?”
“It looks pretty similar.”
“Let’s see.” Jolene held out her hand and Morgan handed the phone over.
Jolene squinted, then used her finger and thumb to enlarge the picture.
“It is the same, but it looks like there’s an additional part to this one,” she said with certainty. Morgan believed that certainty. Jolene had a photographic memory and if she said it was the same as the other map, you could take that to the bank. “Let me go get the one Eliza sent us.”
“So what does this all mean?” Johanna wheeled over with the printout of the map and put it on the shiny, granite surface of the kitchen island.
Morgan looked down, tilting her head sideways to see it from a different angle. It wasn’t the full map—part of it was inside the dead guy’s curled fingers. “I’m not sure, but if someone was here with the map then that seems to indicate they were looking for something right here in Noquitt.”
Jolene returned with the other map, laying it on the island next to the printout. “So, the relic Eliza was trying to lead us to could have been here under our noses the whole time?”
“Maybe.”
Morgan looked at the two maps. They
were
almost the same. But she didn’t recognize it as anyplace in Noquitt. She was studying it so intently that she didn’t hear someone enter the kitchen.
“Hey, who cooked breakfast—“
Celeste stood in the doorway, staring from the platters of food Mateo was placing on the kitchen island to Mateo, then to Jolene.
Her eyes slid back to Mateo. “Hi. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I just dropped in to see how Johanna was doing.”
“Uh-huh.” Celeste took a piece of bacon off the pile and nibbled on the end. “Did someone say something was right under our noses?”
“Yes, I found—” Morgan started, then stopped. They were missing one sister and she didn’t want to have to tell the story all over again when Fiona showed up. “Where’s Fiona?”
“Outside, practicing her shotgun rocks.” Johanna jerked her head toward the big kitchen window and Morgan looked out to see her sister standing just outside, her right hand clenched in front of her in a tight fist. Fiona’s back was to them. A lavender, knit scarf warmed her neck and kept her red hair tucked into the back of her tan, shearling jacket. Beyond her, the Atlantic Ocean sparkled in the morning sunlight.
Two years ago, the sisters had been attacked by paranormal bad guys who had been after a treasure Isaiah Blackmoore had hidden in caves beneath the house. That’s how they’d discovered they’d actually had paranormal abilities themselves. Since then, there had been more attacks and the sisters had decided to hone their skills so they could be more effective in defending themselves.
Fiona had a way with crystals and Morgan knew Fiona hoped to develop a skill where she could transfer energy to the small stones and then throw them as weapons, causing them to scatter like shotgun shells which would pepper the enemy senseless.
Morgan held her breath as she watched Fiona raise her fist. Then she flung her hand out, her breath visible in the cold air as her fingers flew open and the stones clattered harmlessly to the ground.
“Looks like she still needs some practice,” Celeste said.
Jolene tapped on the window to catch her sister’s attention and motioned her in.
Fiona came in through the kitchen door, stomping her feet and blowing into her ungloved fists.
“What’s up?” Her eyes slid to the island. “Oh, great. Breakfast’s ready.”
“Yeah, that and Morgan came across a dead body this morning,” Jolene said as she loaded scrambled eggs, bacon and toast onto a plate.
Fiona’s left brow inched up. “Another one?”
Morgan rolled her eyes. The sisters had found more than one body in the past couple of years and it was starting to be a family joke. Except usually, they were the ones getting blamed for the death.
“Yeah, at least we aren’t suspects this time.” Morgan slid the printout of the photo she’d taken across the island toward her. “He had this in his hand.”
Fiona tilted her head to look at it as she shrugged out of her coat. “Is it the same as Eliza’s?”
“It looks like it.” Jolene set the picture next to the map they’d gotten in the mail as they all filled their plates and sat around the island.
“See, this part matches, but this part looks like a continuation,” Jolene said around a mouthful of egg.
“What’s that?” Celeste pointed to a rectangular object on the corner. “It looks like a gravestone.”
“I think it is.” Jolene slathered butter on a piece of toast and held it out to Celeste, who shook her head.
“You’re not eating, dear?” Johanna’s eyes clouded with worry. “Are you sick?”
Celeste laughed and pointed to the take-out bag she’d tossed in the trash. “No, I ate already. My favorite—lobster grilled cheese.
Morgan screwed up her face. “For breakfast?”
“Sure. It has all the things you are eating.” Celeste pointed to the various plates on the island. ”Protein, dairy and bread. I got it at the Foot Bridge. That’s when I saw the boat.”
“Boat?” Johanna, Morgan and Fiona all asked at once.
“Yeah. A big, black boat was moored in the cove. Odd for this time of year.”
“I’ll say,” Morgan said.
“I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” Johanna added. “Maybe our dead guy came from there.”
Celeste pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. There was an old woman in a wheelchair. At least I
think
she was old.” Celeste couldn’t help but glance at Johanna.
“Or she could have been a victim of Bly, just like Johanna,” Mateo said. “Do you think Bly might be here?”
Morgan reached for a piece of bacon. “Hard telling, but someone paranormal is. The dead guy was killed with hot energy.”
“We should check that boat out,” Jolene said. “But first, we gotta figure out what this map means.”
“
Meow
.”
Their cat, Belladonna, glared at them reproachfully from the doorway as if she was wondering how they
dared
eat breakfast without her.
Belladonna sauntered over to the trash barrel, stood on her hind legs and sniffed. Then she stretched to reach her head far enough in so that she could peek inside the bag. After a few seconds, she pulled her head out and slitted her sky-blue eyes at Celeste, clearly annoyed with her for not saving even a morsel of lobster. She then gave the final insult by trotting over to Mateo and sitting adoringly at his feet.
Mateo broke off a tiny piece of bacon and held it out for the sleek, white cat, who sniffed it thoroughly before gently taking it with her teeth.
“I don’t think she should be eating bacon.” Jolene frowned at Mateo.
“She likes it.” Mateo shrugged, then cleared some of their empty plates from the island, putting them in the sink so they could study the maps side by side.
“If this is Noquitt, I don’t recognize it,” Fiona said.
“
Mew
.” Belladonna clawed at Mateo’s pant leg and he tossed her another tiny piece of bacon.
Jolene turned both maps to face her. “It looks like this is the ocean.” She pointed to the right side.
Celeste stood and leaned over the island to see what Jolene was pointing at. “Then you must be holding it upside down, because if it’s Noquitt, the ocean would be on the east side.”
“
Merow!
”
“Shush, Belladonna.” Morgan waved at the persistent cat to shoo her out of the room, but the cat stayed, stretching her neck out as if she was trying to see to the top of the island where the plate of bacon was.
“I don’t know,” Jolene said. “I think the orientation is right. Maybe this isn’t Noquitt.”
“
Meowww!
” Belladonna jumped up on to the island. Sliding across the length, she grabbed a piece of bacon in her mouth on the way by. Her claws caught on the photo of the map and sent it fluttering off the side as she leaped off the end of the island. She landed almost silently on the floor and then darted out of the room.
“Hey, you!” Fiona yelled after the cat amidst laughter from Mateo, Celeste and Jolene.
Morgan bent down to pick up the printout of the picture she'd taken earlier that morning. The printout had twisted around and lay upside down on the floor. As Morgan reached for the paper, Johanna’s hand shot out and stayed her arm.
“Wait a minute. I think I know where this is.”
Chapter Three
“I don’t know why we can’t just go out to the Finch farm and look around. No one’s lived there for years, since Thaddeus Finch went into the nursing home,” Jolene complained from the backseat of the gray TrailBlazer the girls had recently purchased.
Fiona half-turned from her position in the passenger seat so she could see Jolene. “That would be trespassing. Mom was right. We need to ask old Mr. Finch’s permission first.”
“You’re just crabby because Mateo left.” Morgan glanced at Jolene in the rear-view mirror to see her sister's reaction to the good-natured teasing.
Jolene snorted. “Where did he run off to, anyway? And what brought him here?”
“Who knows?” Celeste shrugged. “He’s mysterious. But I have to say I don’t think his appearance and a dead body showing up on the same day are coincidence.”
“Yeah, but if so, why did he
leave
?” Jolene asked.
“Good question,” Morgan replied as she pulled into the
Fiddlers Rest Nursing Home
.
“I hope Mom is right about the map being the old Finch farm, or this is going to be a huge waste of time. I hear Mr. Finch doesn’t even make sense most of the time.” Jolene held the glass door to the lobby open and motioned for her sisters to precede her. “He might not even know we are here, never mind be aware enough to give us permission to look around his farm.”
“Can I help you?” a nurse asked from behind the round desk, just inside the carpeted lobby.
“We’d like to visit Thaddeus Finch,” Morgan said.
The nurse's brows rose. “Looks like it’s Mr. Finch’s lucky day. He doesn’t usually get so many visitors.”
“So many?” Jolene asked.
“Yes, his nephews were here earlier.”
“Maybe we should come back, then?” Fiona looked at her sisters questioningly.
“Oh, they’re gone now. I’m sure Mr. Finch would love to see you. He’s in room three-ten.” The aid leaned around the desk and gestured to a hall on the left. “Just take the elevator over there and follow the signs.”
Thaddeus Finch’s room was bigger than Morgan had expected. It was about fifteen by twenty, painted in a nice gray blue with a hospital bed in the middle, a wooden bureau on one wall, a big television and a large window overlooking the woods in the back of the facility.
Finch sat in a recliner in the corner. He was a small man, with a mop of bushy, gray hair. A hand-crocheted afghan in shades of orange and green spread across his lap gave Morgan the impression that Thaddeus was cared for by at least one person. Maybe his nephews.
Fiona tapped on his door, pulling his attention from the television. His gray eyes lit up when he saw the four girls hovering in the doorway.
“Finally you’re here to give me my bath.” Finch started taking off his shirt, much to Morgan’s dismay.
“No. No.” She waved her hands. “We’re not here to give you a bath.”
“No?” Finch’s face collapsed in a disappointed frown. His eyes flitted from one girl to the next, then settled on Celeste. “Are you sure? I always was a sucker for blondes.”
Celeste ran her hands nervously through her short-cropped, blonde hair. “We’re sure.”
Finch settled back in his chair. “Why
are
you here, then?”
“Now, Mr. Finch, are you being naughty again?” A young woman with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a severe pony-tail appeared at the door that led to the room's private bath.
“What?” Thaddeus squinted at her. “Potty? No, I don’t have to go potty.”