Chapter Nine: The Extra Grave

Dirt got in her mouth, and dirt caked beneath her fingernails. Julia Tyler inched forward on her belly, feeling the damp graveyard chill deep in her bones. Something was not right.

Every one of the girls who died in 1697 had been buried right here on the grounds of Dunwich Manor. The fierce Puritan witch-hunter Silas Dunwich was buried here too. The accused witch Madge Tarleton was not here, but that made sense. According to local legend, the foul-smelling ashes of her hideously burned body had been dumped in the swamp.

The problem was that there was an extra grave in the family burial ground. But the small stone with the blurred inscription was not in the old section, from the Puritan days. No, this grave was smaller, and closer to the house. And it was new. Well, not exactly new. But certainly not more than a hundred years old.

Arthur Dunwich had been the last direct descendant of Silas Dunwich, the stern Puritan patriarch. According to Caroline Dunwich, poor old Arthur had died a childless bachelor in 1922, leaving Dunwich Manor to his loyal Irish nurse, Ellen O'Flaherty.

But Arthur and Ellen were not alone in the grave they shared. They had never been married, and had no children. Yet right next to them was a small stone. Who or what was buried there?

Julia had gotten her hands dirty, pulling up weeds and digging in the graveyard all morning. Yet she didn't want Professor Bradford and the Dunwich family to see what she was up to. She needed to keep a low profile now that she was beginning to question the official family history. She hated to admit it, but Matt was right. Something very strange was going on at Dunwich Manor.

"My goodness, girl, you look an absolute fright. What on earth are you doing crawling about down there in the graveyard muck? Your pretty face is covered in grime and your clothes are filthy!"

"N-nothing, Miss Caroline. I was only c-c-counting the victims of that awful Puritan witch hunter," Julia stammered. She was a bit startled to see Caroline Dunwich standing just a few feet away. The wealthy old woman had certainly gotten a lot stronger over the past few weeks. She had been confined to the house, spending most of her time in bed or in front of a blazing fireplace. Now she was prowling about the grounds without assistance!

"Yes, Silas was the true murderer," Caroline Dunwich said. "Poor old Madge was innocent. Here, let me help you to your feet."

"I'm all right," Julia objected. But she leaned against Caroline as the older woman slipped a stubby arm around her slender waist. The truth was she didn't quite have the strength to break free from the older woman. Julia just felt drained of all energy. She hadn't expected to feel so worn out after an hour or two in the garden.

"There, there, of course you're all right." Caroline Dunwich was already helping Julia back to the house. "We'll just have a nice cup of tea in the parlor and then you can lie down and rest."

"Couldn't I wash my face first?" Julia pleaded, knowing that she needed a few minutes of privacy to make contact with Matt.

"Very well, dear. You may use the small bathroom off the study."

In spite of her weakness, Julia didn't collapse right away. In the study she checked the family history, scribbled a note to Matt and hid it under the old clock on the mantle over the fireplace. This was a system they had worked out ahead of time. By the time her hastily scrawled note was folded up and hidden away, Julia was ready to flop onto the overstuffed sofa and sink into a deep sleep.

"Ah, there you are!" Caroline Dunwich came marching into the study with brisk and lively steps, her cheerful voice ringing out in the sleepy stillness of the study. "Ready for some tea, my dear?"

"Is it tea time already?" Julia sat up on the sofa, rubbing her eyes. She felt groggy, and she couldn't manage to clear her head. Where was Matt? How many hours had she been asleep?

"Yes, it's time for tea. You look as though you could use it!" On the low table by the sofa were biscuits, sandwiches, and other refreshments. Julia gradually realized they had been brought in on a tray while she slept. She must have been out cold for hours!

"I'd like to go to Boston for a few days," Julia said in a rough, croaky voice, blinking her long-lashed blue eyes. She squeezed them shut and then opened them wide, hoping to wake herself up.

"Boston? Why on earth would you want to go to Boston?" Warm male laughter and a friendly pat on the shoulder made Julia look up in surprise. Dr. Ben Carlson had just entered the study.

"Research," Julia said quickly. "I have to do some research outside the family records. It's for Professor Bradford's project."

"You mean Henrietta's project?" Caroline Dunwich was munching on a sandwich. Julia wasn't hungry, but the old woman's appetite was clearly very healthy. "No need to worry about that, dear. Your professor went back to Boston early this afternoon."

"You mean she left without me?" Julia's sluggish thoughts were stirred into a sudden panic. "But I needed to tell her about Arthur Dunwich. I don't think the family history is complete. I think we've missed an important part of the family tree!"

"Henrietta's got all that covered," old Caroline said with a laugh. "She's more worried about you overworking yourself."

"That's why she left you here with us," Dr. Ben Carlson confirmed. "So you can forget your worries get some rest."

"Yes," Caroline Dunwich said, licking her fingers after finishing her sandwich. "You need a nice long rest."

Julia thought about the tiny headstone and the extra grave. And she knew there was no escape.