A Haunted Theft (A Lin Coffin Mystery Book 4)

C
opyright 2016 J.A
. Whiting

Cover copyright 2016 Signifer Book Design

Formatting by Signifer Book Design

Proofreading by Donna Rich

T
his book is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from J. A. Whiting.

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or my dearest friend
, Susan

June 24, 1956 - March 20, 2016

Forty-six years together wasn’t enough

L
in and Viv
walked along the brick sidewalks and into the small shop that was clustered with several other stores down near the docks in the island town of Nantucket. Viv’s eyes were wide as she stared at the Nantucket Lightship baskets lining the shelves and hanging from the ceiling. The baskets were made of strips of split cane with bottom boards of cherry, maple, and oak and the cane had been woven into baskets of different sizes and shapes, bud vases, wine coolers, trays, and purses.

Viv ran her hand over one of the larger baskets and turned to her cousin. “I can’t wait to get started.” Her eyes were shining. “Thank you for arranging the class for me.”

Lin put her hand on Viv’s shoulder. “I know you’ve been dying to learn about weaving the baskets from this man. I’m glad it worked out.”

Viv was a life-long resident of the island and she loved the traditional woven baskets and their history. She and Lin had attended a talk at the historical society by Nathan Long, a master craftsman of the Nantucket Lightship baskets. He had retired from teaching and now only took commissions to weave his beautiful creations, but he was talked into giving a two-day advanced class and when Lin heard about it through the grapevine, she registered her cousin for the course. In conjunction with Nathan Long’s brief emergence form retirement to give the class, the historical society was housing an exhibition of Nantucket’s baskets alongside some valuable historic baskets that had been donated from museums and private collectors.

A petite dark-haired woman approached the girls. “Are you here for the class?”

Viv smiled and nodded.

The woman gestured to the back room. “The classes are being held in the workshop.”

Viv and Lin headed to the rear of the store admiring the baskets on the way.

“I can’t believe I got into this class,” Viv whispered. The flecks of gold in her chin-length, light brown hair glimmered from the overhead lights. “Nathan Long is world-famous. His classes used to be booked one to two years in advance. He’s a master. Your timing was perfect. Thank heavens you called as soon as you heard he was coming out of retirement for this.”

“It was all luck.” Lin was glad that she’d been able to book the class for her cousin. Viv was a big admirer of the craft and the beautiful woven products. “Just remember, you have to teach me everything you learn.” Lin grinned. “Have a nice time.”

Lin planned to visit the cultural museum’s basket exhibition while Viv was in the class and afterwards they would meet for dinner. Lin stepped out of the store. It was such a beautiful evening that she decided to walk down to the town docks to stroll past the boats and yachts moored in their slips before heading to the exhibit. Tourists meandered along the brick walkways window shopping, heading to dinner, licking ice cream cones, and chatting with family and friends. In a few weeks, the August crowds would thin
out and the town would be less crowded.

Lin walked along enjoying the lovely late summer evening and the sights of the many boats with their owners and friends sitting on deck chairs sipping wine and nibbling on appetizers. She was able to catch glimpses into some of the yacht windows where tables were set with china, crystal, and silver and huge vases of colorful flowers were placed around the luxurious dining and living rooms.

Lin smiled to herself imagining what it must be like to be so wealthy as to afford such magnificent vessels along with the staff needed to operate them. Walking by the enormous ships, she had to admit that she was more than happy with her fairly simple life and was grateful to be living on one of the world’s most beautiful islands. Lin checked her watch and headed away from the docks through town to the cultural museum.

She was surprised to see so many people going in and coming out and noticed Anton Wilson, an island historian, walking up the stairs to the building. She hurried to catch up with him.

Anton greeted the young woman.

“I didn’t realize the popularity of the lightship baskets.” Lin walked along beside the man. “I didn’t know the exhibition would be such a draw.”

Anton looked at Lin, his eyebrows shooting up in amazement that she didn’t understand the importance of the baskets. “My dear, Nantucket is known for the design and craftsmanship of these wonderful objects.”

“I know all that.” Lin didn’t want the historian to think she was unaware of the story of the baskets. “I just didn’t know that people from off-island had any interest in them.”

The two entered the museum which was housed in a nineteenth-century mansion and stood in line to pay for tickets. “This is an important fundraiser for the cultural museum.” Anton looked around. “Where is your cousin?”

Lin told him that Viv was taking the class with Nathan Long and how much it meant to her to be able to do so.

“Nathan is a fine craftsman.” Anton nodded. “I interviewed him several times for a book I wrote on the basket tradition. He takes the work quite seriously.”

“Were you surprised he came out of retirement to give the class?”

“Mr. Long has a strong desire to share his knowledge.” Anton gave a shrug. “Even though he’s focusing on writing and lecturing now, I’m sure he still feels the need to share his skill with as many people as he can.”

Lin and Anton approached the next line of people who were waiting for entrance into the exhibit. The ushers only allowed a certain number into the rooms to keep them from becoming overcrowded in order to enhance people’s viewing of the exhibits.

Anton rattled on about the displays in the three rooms of the museum. “I had a hand in designing the layout of the exhibition. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He lectured Lin about the order of the displays and why they had been arranged as they were. “The first room gives a historical overview of the beginning of the baskets and how the work of the Native American inhabitants of the island, the Wampanoag people, inspired the weaving designs of island settlers and lightship crew members who weaved to pass the time.”

The group moved forward and Lin and Anton stepped into the first exhibition room where maps of the island and story boards told the history of the baskets from the time of the Wampanoags to the present day. While they were looking at one of the maps, an odd feeling of alarm washed over Lin and she glanced about the space searching for the source of the discomfort. A pretty blonde woman wearing a skirt and a blazer hurried through the doorway from the next room, her face white. She looked to be in her early to mid-sixties. Lin recognized the woman as a cultural museum worker. The short, slim woman looked shaken. Her shoulders hunched up and her eyes darted about. When she spotted Anton, the woman rushed over and placed her hand on his arm. Lin could see that her fingers were shaking.

“Anton,” she whispered.

Anton picked up on the woman’s alarm. “What is it, Martha?”

Martha leaned close and spoke into the historian’s ear and what she uttered caused Anton’s head to snap up and his eyes to go wide.

“The Wampanoag basket?” Anton’s voice was high-pitched. He hurried into the next exhibition room with Martha and Lin following behind.

Anton stood in front of a pedestal in the middle of the space, his jaw hanging down. When he turned, his face was pale and his voice shook. “It’s gone?”

Lin stared at the empty pedestal and her head started spinning. She blinked several times and sucked in some deep breaths as she experienced a sensation of a cold hand gripping her arm. Startled, she whirled, but there was no one standing beside her. “What’s going on?” she asked Anton.

Martha said, “The basket. It’s the one on loan from the Prentiss Museum. It’s priceless.” She gaped at the pedestal. “It’s gone.”

It wasn’t necessary to hear any other details since the horrified looks on Martha’s and Anton’s faces told Lin what she needed to know. She stepped forward. “When did you last see it?’

Martha wrung her hands. “I’m not sure. Thirty minutes ago?”

Lin made eye contact with Martha. “Maybe you should call the police.”

Martha took off like a rocket to place the call.

Lin looked at Anton. “We should keep people from leaving. Go block the rear exit. Make sure no one leaves that way. Tell people they can only go out through the front. As they come into the lobby, I’ll gather them and ask them to stay for a little while so the police can ask questions.”

“What if they say they won’t stay?” Anton took a few steps towards the back of the building.

“We can’t force them, but I’ll make notes about anyone who leaves. What they look like, who they’re with.” Lin started for the lobby. “Anton. How big was the basket?”

Anton gestured with his hands to indicate the size and shape.

“That would be hard to hide. Someone couldn’t just put it in a bag or a purse.” Lin hurried to the front of the museum.

When guests made their way towards the front door of the exhibition rooms, Lin corralled them and politely explained the situation and asked if they could stay to help out by speaking with the police to offer any observations or insights that could help to recover the historical basket. Most people were happy to stay, but some would not comply and immediately exited the museum when Lin told them that there had been a probable robbery.

The police arrived, secured the exits, and as one officer began questioning the cultural museum’s visitors and staff, another officer made a sweep of the premises in case the basket had been hidden somewhere to be retrieved later. It took an hour to question everyone and take statements. The police then met with staff in a conference room to speak privately with everyone who had been working during the apparent robbery of the basket.

When Anton was asked to join the group, he and Lin said goodbye. Before parting ways, Anton moved closer to Lin. “Do you sense anything?” He raised an eyebrow. Anton was aware that Lin could see ghosts. She reported having felt a cold hand on her arm when she and Anton had approached the pedestal with Martha, but the sensation had quickly faded and she didn’t know what it might mean.

“Stay aware, Carolin.” Anton held her eyes. “You might be able to help.”

Lin nodded and left the building. Darkness had fallen and the old-fashioned streetlights brightened the sidewalks and streets as Lin started off in the direction of the restaurant where she was supposed to meet Viv. Checking the time on her phone, she was relieved to see that she still had thirty minutes before she was to meet her cousin.

Putting her phone in her bag, a cold chill raced over Lin’s skin and made her shiver. She stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding, and she slowly turned her head, pretty sure of what she might see.

In the golden light of the streetlamp, a shimmering figure of a young man stood staring at Lin. Dressed in the Native American garb of the Wampanoag tribe, the young man had black hair that fell to his shoulders. His sad, dark eyes pierced Lin’s and his gaze filled her with a sense of mourning. Slowly, he raised a hand towards her, palm side up, in a gesture that seemed to be requesting her help.

Just as she was about to speak, the man’s body broke into a million glimmering atoms that swirled and disappeared leaving Lin standing alone staring at the now empty spot on the brick sidewalk.