Specter~Chapter 13
Quinn woke up on Monday morning, her first thought was did that weekend really just happen? Thankfully, she woke up on time even though she didn't remember setting her alarm. She showered and prepared to see Will and Emma at 8 a.m. She had no sign that Sam had been in her room or near her even, so she assumed he was upset with her.
He just has to understand…this is so much to take in and process…she thought while in the shower. Of course, he had only left her room once during the night, to visit the trunk in the basement.
Quinn got dressed and went downstairs to de-arm the security system. She poured herself a glass of juice while waiting on Will and Emma to arrive.
Sitting in the quiet empty kitchen, she looked around, recalling Noah being there. She giggled a bit, now knowing Sam had haunted him a bit.
"I'm so sorry, Sam…please don't be mad at me," she said quietly to the silence.
There was no response from him.
Will and Emma pulled up at 8 o'clock sharp, laughing and smiling as they made their way to the side entrance of the home. Quinn met them in the kitchen.
"Good morning, Quinn! How was your weekend?" Emma asked, cheerfully.
"Good morning…it was, um, busy," Quinn replied. She told them about going into Battenfield to do research at the library and then did a little exploring. She conveniently left out the part about Noah showing up and about kissing a ghost.
"I made some headway on the people we cataloged last week so maybe we can contact family members about their belongings, see if they want to donate anything to the estate," Quinn suggested.
"Great idea! The board who oversees the property wanted at least two or three rooms on the second floor staged as closely to possible like the people who lived here, so guests would have an idea of what Mr. Abrams provided to them," Emma told her.
Will busied himself preparing breakfast for the three of them while Emma and Quinn discussed how to set up rooms for display. He wasn't all too interested in the historical aspect of the estate; he was just happy to have gainful employment.
"Sounds like you had an enjoyable weekend," Emma said to Quinn after they had their eggs and toast. "I hope it wasn't too lonely."
"No, not at all," Quinn replied, smiling. "Very relaxing, in fact. I hope you had a nice weekend off."
She noticed the quick glance between the two of them.
They make it so obvious! Quinn thought, stifling a giggle.
"My weekend was relaxing…once I caught up on my own housework and laundry," Emma said, laughing a bit.
"Oh, I stopped in at the Battenfield Inn…that was nice…al fresco," Quinn told them.
"We like to visit there," Will started, then endured a death glare from Emma. He cleared his throat. "To eat outside, like you did."
"Of course," Quinn answered, trying to act like she had no clue about them. "Battenfield seems to be a quaint little town, very friendly people."
"Are you ready to begin our research today, Quinn?" Emma asked her.
"I am," Quinn said, smiling and following her to the basement doorway.
xxxxx
In the basement, Quinn of course noticed the trunk belonging to one Lucinda Fabbrae again pulled out and now opened.
That explains where Sam Evans ran off to, she thought.
"I thought you said you didn't do any more sorting down here?" Emma asked her, also noticing the open trunk.
"I didn't come down here at all," Quinn replied. "I think we should examine this trunk, though."
Silently and unseen behind her and Emma, Sam fist-pumped the air.
Quinn gently closed the lid and loaded the trunk, heavier than she expected, onto a cart, along with a couple other boxes.
Once upstairs in the office, Quinn set the trunk aside, not sure she was ready to explore it. She began working on other boxes.
xxxxx
It took a couple days for Quinn to get past her nerves to go through Lucinda's trunk. She knew Sam had been around-waiting-for her to go through it. Occasionally, she'd feel the coolness touch her, at different places around the estate or if she went for a walk or bike ride. He was always nearby. Every day that she and Emma would work in the office, it was as if the trunk was mocking her, daring her to open it and reveal its contents. In a way, she was a little afraid by what she might find, but, on the other hand, she was very curious. As the days continued on past the Sunday she saw and touched Sam, it seemed more and more like a dream, a hallucination, and she began to doubt herself...had it really even happened?
What finally made her decide that it was time to open the trunk was a walk down to the pier one evening. She sat at the end, watching the water move with the tide, a storm off in the distance lighting up the sky. The smell of the salty water filled her nostrils and surrounded her...it was what he had smelled like to her...the sea. In death, he had become one with the ocean. She sat at the end of that pier, crying quietly, then felt his cool touch alongside her.
It no longer felt odd to her to speak to the openness next to her. "You're not angry with me?"
The coolness wrapped around her hand. They sat there silently until darkness took over.
xxxxx
"I think we should go through the trunk today," Quinn told Emma the next morning.
"It's been sitting there, just waiting on you, hasn't it?" Emma replied, as if she knew.
"I think so...I think it's time," Quinn said, pulling the trunk gently over to her desk. She entered Lucinda Q Fabbrae into the database.
I wonder if she ever found out what the Q stood for, Quinn thought, already having a very good idea.
She opened the lid slowly, the hinges creaking.
Folded neatly on top were several dresses and sunhats and gloves and clutches. There was a very nice pair of shoes, barely worn it seemed, and silk stockings and beautiful handkerchiefs. The scent of honeysuckle wafted from the trunk.
Sam was nearby, watching intently.
Quinn and Emma logged each item and took pictures of it all. It was all very fancy and well taken care of. The last item of clothing that Quinn pulled out was definitely a dress from earlier times, a navy blue coarse linen work dress, it appeared, plus a white daycap. She and Emma remarked over the handiwork; it was obviously made by hand and they guessed it dated to the mid 1850s. Quinn stood and held the dress up; she felt something kindred about it.
It had fit so nicely then, she thought...the stray thoughts picking up since she opened the trunk. Emma took the picture of the dress and daycap, and Quinn suggested they get some close-up shots of the handstitching of both. Quinn plucked a stray blonde hair from the cap and wondered if a strand of her own hair had fallen on it.
They folded the clothing back neatly and set it aside. There was more at the bottom of the trunk to go through, but they decided to break for lunch at that point. Will had chicken salad and crackers on the back patio for them, plus some chardonnay.
"It just felt like a good day for a chardonnay," he said, giggling.
He's obviously already been into the wine, Quinn thought. He set out some fresh veggies also. It was a cool refreshing lunch, just what Quinn needed after being in the stuffy office all morning.
"Quinn, are you sure you feel alright? You've been awfully quiet this week, today in particular," Emma said.
Quinn smiled at her. "I'm fine. Just sometimes it's a bit sad going through all this stuff that belonged to once vibrant young people...it can be a little depressing, I guess."
Emma nodded in agreement. "Especially considering a lot of this stuff will never again see the light of day or no family will ever look for it..."
"So depressing...I hope my belongings find a home after I'm gone," Quinn said, a hint of despondency to her voice.
They finished their lunch in relative silence, only occasionally remarking on the lovely weather they were having.
"Shall we?" Emma asked finally.
Quinn smiled and nodded.
xxxxx
Back in the office, they continued with Lucinda's trunk. The next things Quinn took out were some old books and the Bible. A couple of the books must've been from her youth, children's storybooks.
I loved the pictures in that one, she thought, gently turning the pages of one of them.
The other books had to do with early photography. The Bible must've been in her family as there were names and dates of birth and death listed in it. Quinn glanced through the names.
It's beginning to make sense, another errant thought crossed her mind.
Emma pulled out an old camera and gasped. "It's an original Brownie!" She fiddled with it easily and gently. "No film cartridge though."
Quinn pulled out a shoebox next. Opening it, she found stacks of pictures.
"I'd say she put that Brownie to very good use!" Quinn said, smiling.
I did, I loved that camera...Quinn was now nearly accustomed to the thoughts that she was pretty sure were not her own.
They sifted through the pictures together. Lucinda had carefully marked each one with the date and subjects involved.
The pictures were from later in Lucinda's life…the last 10 years or so. A lot of pictures were taken either in the estate or on the grounds, and Emma said that they were an excellent visual of how the home was in its heyday. Quinn noticed that some pictures were taken at the old cemetery, of a single wooden cross. There were a few pictures taken around Battenfield and some of the sea, apparently taken from the pier. There were a handful of pictures of old homes that Lucinda had labeled as the Fabbrae residence, the Evans residence, the Hudson-Hummel residence, the Berry residence.
Emma was delighted at this pictorial history, probably for different reasons than Quinn was. Emma saw an early history in pictures of Battenfield; Quinn saw familiarity in the places and faces. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was coming to terms with it. The most notable thing about the pictures, Quinn thought, was the fact that Lucinda looked just like her, except older.
Emma squealing brought Quinn out of her reverie. She was holding a book and grinning like a fool.
"What is it?" Quinn asked.
"A diary!" Emma squealed again.
"You're kidding me!"
"Not at all! We've got to transcribe this!" she said excitedly, handing it to Quinn.
Quinn opened the cover gently. Inside was written Lucinda Q Fabbrae, 1852. Quinn felt her heart skip a beat.
All her private thoughts, right here, Quinn thought.
"Let's finish going through the trunk before starting on the diary," she said suddenly.
"Of course…there's just one more ornate wooden box…it appears to be a jewelry box…" Emma said, pulling it from the depths of the trunk.
The box itself was beautiful and made from sturdy oak, carved in intricate designs. Inside, they found pieces of mainly costume jewelry…faux pearls, gold bangle bracelets, hoop earrings, gaudy cocktail rings. In the corner of the box, Quinn picked up a square of navy blue velvet and opened it. Inside the velvet lay a nondescript silver ring, twisted and bent and apparently hammered into a circular shape. Transfixed by it, she slipped it on her pinky finger.
Sam watched her slip the ring on her finger and could see the realization fill her eyes. She knew for sure now…somehow, someway, she was Lucinda.
That was the last thing she thought before she lost consciousness and her world went black.