Chapter 10

I spent most of the rest of the day at the shop with Jackie. When occasional boredom overcame me, I wandered out and roamed the small business area of Woodstock. Here and there I stopped to look in the window of a store but without seeing what was on display. My mind focused on how to solve the mess I had somehow gotten myself into.

At seven in the evening, Jackie dealt with the last customers. She followed them to the door and locked up behind them when they left. She flipped the sign hanging in the window to CLOSED and took a deep breath.

"I love the job, and I hate it," she said.

"How long have you been here?"

"Nine years.” She looked at me. "Nine years of what you just saw. We're busy year-round, but it slacks off a little in winter and early spring."

"That must be like a vacation."

"What's a vacation?" she asked.

Jerry came to us. He glanced at me and turned to her.

"I'm out of here."

"Tell Virginia hello," she said.

"Yeah.” He sounded irritated. He opened the door and left. She locked it again behind him. Looking at me, she shook her head.

"He doesn't like me," I said.

She shrugged. "That's his problem. He can be annoying, but he interacts well with the customers and he's a hard worker." She paused. "What say we go to dinner, and then I've got to get today's receipts run."

"When do you finally get out of here?" I wondered.

"I’m usually done by ten." She made a dismissive gesture. "Owning a business isn't easy."

I nodded and shot her a half smile. "All work and no play make Jackie a dull girl."

This time it was her turn to laugh. "How true. But it keeps me out of trouble, too."

"What kind of trouble can you get into here?" I asked with a smile.

"You'd be surprised." She shot me a wry glance. "Let's go before I end up telling my secrets."

She went into the office and returned a moment later with the manila folder. We left a minute later. For the first time since the dreams began, I forgot to check the street for my shadow. We strolled along, saying little until we came to the restaurant. I veered toward it.

"No," said Jackie. "Let’s do a different one. There's another one a little farther down the street. It's nice, and the menu is a little bit different."

We continued walking, mostly in silence. The lack of conversation didn't concern me. I didn't feel a need to talk, and I guess neither did she. After knowing each other a few days, we seemed to be comfortable with one another. For some reason, I found it notable.

***

We got a table after a short wait. When we had ordered, she opened the folder and took out a few pages. She skimmed them, stopping occasionally to go back and read a part again.

"He put just about everything in here, didn't he?"

"That's what his wife said," I replied. "He included every detail, no matter how small."

"You really should call her." She glanced up at me and continued to read.

"Yeah.”

"Maybe when we finish dinner." She raised her eyes from the papers. "I don't live very far."

I met her gaze and nodded, remembering her comment about doing the day's receipts but not bothering to mention it. A few minutes later dinner arrived. She put the papers back into the folder and laid the envelope to the side.

***

We left the restaurant shortly after eight o'clock. I followed her lead and discovered she walked to work and lived only two blocks away from the restaurant in a two-story Cape, painted white, as were most other homes nearby.

She opened the door and motioned me inside. I stepped into a small foyer. To one side was a living or sitting room with a sofa, chair, end tables and a coffee table in front of the sofa. Pictures of various landscape scenes decorated the walls.

"Have a seat. I've got a bottle of wine if you're interested."

"Sounds good," I replied. Suddenly I felt nervous. Things seemed to be moving at warp speed, out of my control. I wondered if I was misjudging the situation.

"The telephone is right there," she called from the kitchen. "You'd better make your call. It's past eight o'clock."

I dug out my wallet and found the slip of paper with Putnam's phone number, picked up the phone and punched the numbers in. I listened and waited. On the third ring, I recognized Mrs. Putnam's voice. An immediate sense of relief rushed through me.

"Mr. Jackson." She sounded pleased. "I'm so glad you called. Ever since you left, I’ve wondered if you were okay. I saw the apparition across the street when you were here."

"Mary Bradbury," I said.

"Yes." She stopped for a couple of seconds. "She vanished moments after you drove away."

"She's appeared here, but not in the past day or two." I said.

"Where is here?" she asked.

"I'm in Woodstock," I replied. "In Vermont."

"What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to touch base, find out if you were okay, and to ask if you'd found any other papers. What you gave me seems to be complete but…"

"No more have turned up. I've finished packing. If I found any, I planned to try to contact you. I'll be leaving to join my husband in a few days, or that's the plan. A week at the outside."

Jackie came in with two glasses of wine. She placed one on the coffee table in front of me, settled onto the sofa beside me and listened to my side of the phone call.

"Did you ever ask your husband what he was supposed to do with the coffin?" I asked. I thought I had touched on it during our meeting but couldn't remember.

She replied without hesitation. "I remember him saying the people expected him to remove the curse she laid on the town. They never told him how, or that's as I recall it."

"I have found nothing in the journal about how to do it," I said.

"Because he didn't know. We talked about it." She was silent for a second. "Honestly I have given it some thought, but I still haven't come up with any ideas."

Jackie whispered into my ear. "Ask about the other woman."

I nodded and asked about the woman on the Common. Mrs. Putnam was silent again for a brief second. "One that looked like Mary?"

"Maybe a bit older, but the same type of clothing, hair style and all. She looked enough like her to be a sister."

"No, not that I remember. Again, Reverend Putnam was the sociable one. He was out trying to talk to them much more than me."

I glanced at Jackie and shook my head.

"I guess he didn't see her," I said. "There's nothing in his journal."

"If he saw her, it would be in there. Is there anything else?"

I tried to think of other unanswered questions and came up with many.

"Nothing at the moment," I said. "I appreciate you taking the time for me."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Jackson. Please don't hesitate to call if you think of anything I might help you with. I'll be here for a few more days."

“I will,” I said and hung up.

***

I sipped the wine. Jackie sat and watched me for a moment.

"What now?" she asked.

I finished my glass and set it on the table. "I don't know."

She stood, took my glass and disappeared. A minute later, she was back with a refill.

"It's good for you," she said, sitting closer to me.

"That's what they say," I replied, "whoever they are."

Then, she was beside me. Our shoulders touched and her hand slid over my chest. I sat motionless and let her do what she wanted. As her right hand drifted down, she whispered.

"It'll relieve the stress."

"There's a lot to relieve.” My voice sounded husky, tense.

"Then we should work on it,” she said and began working to relieve the stress.

At some point, we ended up in bed. By the time we finished, we were both stress free.