A Haunted Theft (A Lin Coffin Mystery Book 4) (2 page)

L
in and Viv
sat at a table in the back of the restaurant near the windows that looked out over the dark ocean. Light from the streetlamps and the shop windows sparkled on the harbor water and the lights on some of the tall sailboat masts twinkled like stars that had fallen from the night sky.

“And then I left the exhibition and there he was.” Lin’s arms were crossed on the tabletop and she leaned forward making eye contact with her cousin.

“He held his hand out to you?” Viv asked.

Lin nodded. “Like he was asking me for help.”

“Another ghost. So soon.” Viv lifted her glass of wine to her lips. She turned her head to look out of the window. “Who knew there were so many ghosts on Nantucket?”

“I hadn’t seen ghosts for nearly twenty years before I moved back here.” Lin’s forehead creased thinking about the many ghosts that had shown themselves to her since she returned to her island home several months ago.

“They’re making up for lost time,” Viv sighed.

The waiter set down their dinners of fishermen’s platters that cradled large pink pieces of lobster, white scallops, and baked haddock with buttery seasoned bread crumbs on top. The girls nearly swooned at the sight of the seafood. They picked up their forks and dug in, each one silent as they chewed, savored, and swallowed.

“Delicious,” Viv pronounced. Her golden brown hair fell forward over her cheeks as she worked on the meal. “I was starving.”

After a few more minutes of enjoying the food, Lin said, “The ghost must have appeared because of the basket. But why?”

Viv ignored the question for a moment. “I’ve seen pictures of that basket. It’s beautiful.” She took a sip from her water goblet. “Do you think the basket once belonged to the ghost?”

Lin’s blue eyes widened. “I hadn’t even thought of that. He must have known that the basket had been stolen.”

“He must want you to find it.” Viv set her glass down and picked up her fork.

“Why would he care? I can’t return a basket to a ghost.”

“He
must
care though. It was on loan from the Prentiss Museum, right?” Viv paused and looked across the table. “The ghost must want it returned to the museum.” Her eyes brightened. “Maybe he doesn’t like the person who stole it.”

“How would he know the thief?” Lin cocked her head.

Viv made a face. “He’s a ghost, Lin. Ghosts know stuff.” Her lips turned down. “I think.”

Sighing, Lin looked out the window at the dark ocean. “After all that’s happened recently, you’d think I’d know something more about ghosts. But I don’t.”

“Well, you know some things.” Viv tapped her chin with her index finger. “They don’t speak to you. They show up when they want to. They show up when they need your help.”

Lin looked at her cousin. “They show up when I’m in danger.”

“Sometimes.” Viv’s face showed slight annoyance. “You’ve been in danger several times and the ghosts didn’t appear.”

“Well, sometimes they have.” Lin gave a shrug. She had a hard time trying to understand when and why a ghost made an appearance. There had been plenty of times when she wanted to have a ghost materialize and they didn’t, and plenty of times when she really hoped one would
not
show him or herself, and lo and behold, there one would be. “Anyway, that’s what happened to me this evening. Tell me about your class.”

A big grin spread over Viv’s face. “It was great. I loved it. We learned some interesting weaving techniques. I need to practice. Nathan Long was really great. He is such a good teacher, explains everything so clearly, demonstrates the patterns, is so patient.” Viv nodded thinking about the hours spent in the class. “It made me want to just weave all day long to master the craft.”

Lin chuckled. “You can sell the bookstore and then sit around weaving all the time.”

“Oh, I’d never want to sell the bookstore.” A serious expression settled over Viv’s face. “I guess I’ll weave in the evenings.” She smiled and winked. “Or maybe when I’m at the bookstore.”

“How many people took the class with you?” Lin reached for another roll from the basket on the table.

“Only four others. It was deliberately kept small. Mr. Long could spend more time with each of us that way.” Viv clasped her hands together. “I still can’t believe I was one of the five.”

“Nathan Long still makes his home on-island?”

“He does. He lives out by Miacomet.” Viv nodded. “He travels frequently though, giving talks on the baskets and their history so he’s away a lot of the time.” A cloud passed over Viv’s face. “Who on Earth would steal the Wampanoag basket?”

Lin was hoping the conversation wouldn’t return to the theft at the cultural museum while they were finishing their dinner. The episode gave her such a feeling of sadness and unease that she wanted to avoid talking about it. Lin could feel invisible threads pulling on her, trying to draw her into the case and she wanted to dig in her heels to keep from becoming involved. “That’s a very good question.” She felt someone approaching and she and Viv turned to see Anton Wilson standing beside their table.

“Anton.” Lin’s eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know we were here?”

“I didn’t.” Anton pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “Can I sit with you?” Anton always seemed full of pent-up energy and it was practically pouring off him as he waited for a response.

“Of course.” Lin gestured to one of the empty seats at the table.

Anton sat and reached for Lin’s water glass. “Do you mind?”

“Help yourself.”

He gulped down half the water in the goblet. “I’m exhausted.”

Lin had to suppress a smile. Despite claiming exhaustion, Anton seemed ready to burst with energy. “Were you with the police this whole time?”

“Yes.” Anton took a roll from the basket, borrowed Lin’s knife and buttered the bread. “How could someone steal that basket?”

“What did the police say?” Viv asked.

“They asked that very question, over and over. They seemed sure that the basket couldn’t have been on display before the evening hours started. The officers couldn’t see how someone could remove the basket in full view of the visitors. And honestly, neither can I.”

“But the staff claim it was on its pedestal?” Viv questioned.

“They do. The police are skeptical that someone could just walk out with it during the exhibition without being noticed. It’s too big. It couldn’t be tucked under a coat or a jacket or stuffed into a backpack or tote.” Anton harrumphed. “How are we supposed to know how someone stole it? The staff says the basket was on display when the evening exhibition hours started. Now the basket is gone, so someone had to have taken it.
How
they were able to remove it with people all around is for the police to determine.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Lin had never seen the historian so frazzled and wondered if eating something might help to calm him. “Do you want to order some food?”

“What?” It seemed to take Anton a few seconds to process Lin’s question. “No. I’m afraid I’ll be sick if I eat anything.”

“Are there security cameras in the cultural museum’s exhibition rooms?” Viv asked.

“No.” Anton practically groaned. “No one there ever thought such a thing was needed and anyway, it’s an expense they couldn’t afford.”

“The police will figure it out.” Lin wished she could think of something more comforting to say. She offered the man another roll. Lin wanted to tell Anton about the ghost she’d seen outside the exhibition, but didn’t want to add to his worry. She decided to tell him the next day.

The wiry man turned to face Lin. “Did you sense anything when you were at the hall? Did you happen to see any ghosts there?”

Lin’s jaw dropped and for a moment, she stared at Anton wondering if he had the ability to read her mind. She shook off the feeling knowing full well that Anton didn’t have special powers or skills. “I was going to tell you tomorrow.” Lin proceeded to relay the news about seeing the Native American ghost outside the museum when she left the building.

Tiny beads of sweat formed on Anton’s forehead. “Oh, my.” He glanced across the restaurant for several seconds and then turned to Lin. “You’ll need to help, Carolin.”

Lin’s heart sank. “But it’s just a stolen basket,” she said lamely. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the same feeling of sadness that had washed over her when she saw the Wampanoag man rushed through her veins. She knew it wasn’t
just
a stolen basket.

Anton cleared his throat. “In addition to the historical importance of the basket, the item is also quite valuable. Not to mention that the basket was borrowed from a another museum and we were responsible for its safety.”

Lin had forgotten about the basket being borrowed. Beginning to realize why Anton was so upset, she rubbed at her temple. “Why are you saying
we
are responsible? Were you involved in acquiring the basket from the museum?”

Anton looked over the top of his glasses. “I was.” His voice was barely audible. “I am friends with the curator at the Prentiss Museum on the mainland. I made a plea to borrow the basket for the exhibition. My friend was reluctant, but I convinced him.” Raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness, Anton shook his head.

Viv narrowed her eyes and looked at Anton. “You said the basket was valuable. How valuable?”

The muscles in the man’s face were tight. “Approximately … a quarter of a million dollars.”

Both Lin’s and Viv’s jaws dropped at the same time.

L
in pulled
some weeds from a flower bed and tossed them in the white bucket next to her. Her little brown dog sprawled in the grass a few yards away snoozing in the sun. The day was sunny and warm, but the humidity had broken and the air was clear and comfortable. Lin’s mind had been stewing about the robbery at the exhibition throughout the night and the morning had been spent rehashing everything that had happened while she was at the cultural museum and all that she and Viv and Anton had discussed at the restaurant. After going over everything several times, the three had left feeling dismayed and discouraged. Unable to stop pondering the mess, Lin had tossed and turned all night knowing full well that she was going to be drawn into it.

Lin sat back on the grass and wiped her forehead with her arm. Her dog stretched, lazily wandered over to his owner, put his two front paws against her arm, and reached up with his face and licked her cheek. Lin chuckled and rubbed his neck. “I was hoping not to get involved with this whole thing, Nick, but I guess I’m already in it.”

The dog let out a little woof.

There were so many aspects of the robbery pulling her in. She was present in the exhibition rooms when the basket went missing, the Native American ghost seemed to be imploring her to help, and Anton was instrumental in bringing the basket to Nantucket town for display by coaxing his museum curator friend to loan it to them.

Lin made a mental list of things she wanted to do to start the investigation. First, she wanted to talk to the staff members at the cultural museum to see what they knew and saw, and then she wanted to research the antique basket market in case it might shed some light on who would steal the item and how he or she might go about selling it.

“What’s wrong with you, Coffin? Sittin’ down on the job?”

Lin looked around to see her partner, Leonard, tall, toned, and tanned with streaks of gray at his temples, coming across the lawn. Nicky ran to the man and almost turned inside out wiggling and jumping in delight at Leonard’s unexpected arrival.

“I didn’t know you were coming by.” Lin smiled and stood.

“I thought you’d still be here.” Sixty-one-year-old Leonard bent to scratch the dog’s ears. “My last client gave me a big box of vegetables from her garden. There’s corn on the cob, tomatoes, peppers, all kinds of stuff. Too much for me. Want some?”

“Sure.”

Lin, Leonard, and the dog walked to the front of the property. Lin looked through the box in the back of her partner’s truck and selected some of the veggies to take home. When she’d gathered them and was about to carry the things to her own pickup truck, Leonard picked out more of the produce and insisted that Lin take those items, too.

She laughed. “I can’t eat all of this.”

The two hopped up onto the bed and sat sipping from their water bottles.

“How’s this thing running?” Leonard referred to Lin’s newly acquired used truck.

“Much better than the last one.” Lin’s old truck was always breaking down and she’d bought this vehicle from the manager of the Mid-Island Cemetery who she’d wrongly suspected to be the perpetrator in a recent case, but who had been cleared of any wrongdoing.

“You heard about the robbery at the cultural museum?” Lin poured some water into her palm and splashed her face.

“Yeah, I heard. That’s odd, huh?” Leonard reached down to help the dog up onto the truck bed. “How’d someone get that basket out of the exhibition unseen?”

“That’s the big question.” Lin gave a sigh. “Along with who did it and why.”

“Well, it’s an antique and it’s valuable, I suppose, so somebody decided to make off with it.”

Lin eyed the man. “Do you know how valuable it is?”

Leonard shrugged. “I didn’t hear that part of the story. What could it be worth? A few thousand?”

When Lin told him the basket’s value Leonard almost fell off the back of the vehicle. He guffawed. “I don’t think anyone needs to spend much time thinking about
why
it was stolen. I think the reason for the theft is fairly obvious.”

“But.” Lin cocked her head. “Wouldn’t it be hard to unload something like that without being caught? Police networks would be aware that it was stolen. Museums and antique dealers wouldn’t touch it.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? There are plenty of unscrupulous people who would broker the basket quietly, maybe to a wealthy, private buyer. I doubt it would be hard to sell.”

Lin groaned. “I didn’t think of that.”

“The weird thing is,” Leonard scratched his chin, “how did the thief get it out of the exhibition? It sounded like it was a good-sized basket. You can’t just pick it up and parade out of the place with it with everyone standing around.”

“The staff says it was on the pedestal in one of the rooms when the evening exhibition hours started. When Anton and I were in the first room, a woman ran over to Anton and told him the basket was missing. Who knows how they did it, but somehow the basket was removed.”

“Hmm.” Leonard pondered how the item might have been removed. “Magic?”

Lin chuckled. “I think there’s probably a more mundane answer.”

Leonard scratched Nicky’s ears. “I’d like to hear what it is.”

One side of Lin’s mouth turned up and she narrowed her eyes. “You’ll have to wait until I figure it out.”

They sat quietly sipping from their bottles for a few minutes, when Leonard broke the silence. “Who was the woman who came to tell Anton the basket was missing?”

Lin scrunched up her face in thought. “I don’t know if I heard her name. Wait. I think it was Martha.” Nodding her head, she said, “That was it. Martha.”

“Slender, kind of petite, good-looking, blondish hair, early sixties?” Leonard looked serious. “Probably well-dressed.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what she looked like.” A question formed on Lin’s face. “How did you know?”

“I knew she worked there. Martha Hillman.” Leonard drained his bottle of water and slipped down off the truck bed. He lifted the wagging dog down from the truck and put him on the grass. Leonard’s lips were squeezed together tight and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t care for the woman.”

Lin pushed off from her seated position, stood next to her partner, and smiled. “I thought you liked everyone,” she teased the man.

“Nope.” Leonard headed to his own truck with Lin and Nicky following.

“Why don’t you like her?” Lin questioned.

“I don’t trust her.” Leonard got into the cab and leaned out the driver’s side window. “Martha Hillman is a bald-faced liar. Take anything she says to you with a grain of salt.”

Leonard’s comment was so unexpected, that Lin’s mouth opened in surprise. “Don’t drive away without telling me what you know about her.”

“I have to get to an appointment.” Leonard’s face seemed to have hardened. He shifted the truck into gear. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Lin scowled, but stepped back from the truck as Leonard started the engine and pulled away. Heading back to finish the client’s yard work, Lin’s mind was racing again thinking about what could have happened for Leonard to be so adamant that Martha from the cultural museum was a liar.

* * *

A
fter her last
client of the day, Lin stopped at Anton Wilson’s house on the way home. She heard Anton’s voice in the backyard so she and Nicky walked around the side of the house to the rear garden where she stopped short when she saw who the historian was speaking with.

Martha Hillman sat at the outdoor table on the deck sipping a cold beverage, listening to Anton ranting as he paced back and forth. Pivoting to pace in the other direction, he saw Lin standing on the lawn. He stopped in mid-sentence and blinked at her. “Are you working here today?” Lin took care of the man’s garden needs, doing the lawn mowing, trimming, and planting and tending of the flowers.

“No.” Lin shook her head. “I came by to chat.” She glanced at Martha and nodded. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

Nicky dashed to the man’s side wagging his little tail and Anton leaned down to give the small creature a pat. “Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?” Anton’s dark eyes stared at Lin.

Lin shook her head. “It can wait. I’ll come by another time. I should have called first.”

Anton remembered his manners and gestured to the woman at the table. “You remember Martha? Martha Hillman. You met her at the exhibition.” Anton made eye contact with the woman. “Martha, this is Carolin Coffin.”

The woman stood and gave Lin a welcoming smile. “Please, join us.”

Lin started to protest, but Anton interrupted. “We’d like your input.”

Lin reluctantly followed Anton to the deck table and sat across from him and Martha. The beautiful woman had dark brown eyes and short stylishly cut blonde hair that framed her face with side swept bangs. She looked like she would be equally comfortable walking a beach or sitting at a conference table leading a board meeting. Something about Martha made Lin feel uncomfortable, but she guessed that her wariness came from Leonard’s comment about the woman being a liar rather than anything that Martha was giving off.

“I’m sorry we met in such hurried circumstances.” Martha leaned back in her chair. “I understand you’ve recently moved back to the island and are making it your permanent home.”

Lin nodded and explained that her grandfather had left her his house and that she was ready for a change and decided to return to Nantucket. Martha asked many questions about Lin’s background, her family, education, and occupations. Lin felt like she was sitting at a job interview and wanted to turn the conversation away from herself and to the robbery.

When Martha paused for a breath, Lin took the opportunity to maneuver the chat to the different topic. “Is there any news about the theft?”

Someone less observant than Lin would have missed it, but something swiftly passed over Martha’s face and the corner of her mouth twitched. She straightened, folded her hands, and rested them on the table. “I’m afraid not. It’s a mystery.”

Anton spoke up. “Carolin has been instrumental in some recent island mysteries.”

Lin gave Anton a look, but he didn’t notice. She didn’t want him to spill any information about the cases she’d stumbled into over the past couple of months preferring that Martha remain unaware of her involvement. If Martha proved to be a suspect, Lin didn’t want the woman to be cautious about what she said or did when Lin was around.

One of Martha’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Which cases were those?” The tone of her voice sent a slight chill over Lin’s skin.

Anton opened his mouth to reply, but Lin cut him off with a laugh. “Anton is exaggerating. I only ran into someone who was mixed up in some trouble. I had nothing to do with solving anything.” Lin gave a shrug trying to brush off the idea that she’d had a hand in determining who was responsible for some recent crimes. “I do find the exhibition robbery mystifying though. Are there any suspects?”

Martha gave a sad shake of her head. “I’m not aware of any.”

Lin persisted with her questions. “The basket was large I understand. Are there thoughts about how the basket was removed from the premises?”

Again, Martha shook her head. “We don’t know.”

“Was it on display when the evening exhibition hours started?” Lin held Martha’s eyes trying to get a feel for the truth behind her answers.

“It was.”

“Are you sure?”

With a steely gaze, Martha leveled her eyes at Lin. “Yes.”

“Did
you
see it on the pedestal when the evening hours started or did someone tell you it was there?”

A barely perceptible flush of anger rose in Martha’s cheeks. “My dear, are you accusing
me
of stealing the basket?” she asked calmly.

Anton spoke. “Oh, my. Of course not. Martha, no one suspects you.”

“Well, I hope not.” Martha brushed at her bangs and then looked at her watch. “Look at the time. I must get going.” She gathered her bag from the deck and stood. “Nice to talk with you.” Martha nodded at Lin and then placed her hand on Anton’s arm. “Thank you for the cold drink. We’ll meet soon to go over things again. Hopefully, the theft will be resolved quickly and our worries will be over.” With a wave, the woman left the deck and hurried along the stone walkway to the front of the house.

“Carolin, be more careful with your phrasing of questions. You don’t want to make people think you suspect them.”

“But what if I do suspect them?”

Anton’s eyes widened. “Not Martha.” He shook his head vigorously.

Lin leaned her chin on her hand. “Why
not
Martha?”

“Why on earth would you suspect her?” Anton looked aghast.

“Because,” Lin said quietly, “she didn’t answer my question.”