Page 5 of Dead Rattled
“Let me grab my colleague.” Ten sprinted from the room before Natalie could stop him a second time. Thankfully, Cope was standing at the cash register talking with Carson. “I need your help.”
“Which one of us?” Carson asked.
“Both, if possible. I’m having a bit of trouble with this reading.”
Cope offered Ten a sympathetic look. “We both understand how hard it’s been for you being back here these last two weeks.”
“It’s not that, Cope.” The last thing on Ten’s mind at the moment was the trauma he’d suffered at the hands of Autumn Miller. “I think my client’s loved one is still alive.”
Carson’s eyes widened. “You think this woman’s daughter, who died in 1972, is still alive?”
Ten nodded.
“Jesus, you didn’t tell her, did you?” Carson looked as if he couldn’t decide what to do next.
“I did.” Ten’s heart was racing. “I asked to step out of the room to consult you and she thought this was a ploy to double bill her and my thoughts on the matter came spilling out. Can one or both of you please come with me and see if you’re getting the same vibe I had?”
With a short, angry nod, Carson headed for Ten’s reading room. Cope stayed behind. “He’s really been on edge lately with all the bad press from the Autumn Miller situation.”
“Yeah.” No one knew that better than Tennyson. After the dust settled over his arrest, Carson had asked him to take a month off to let the public forget what happened. Ten had refused and Carson had been irritable with him ever since. He had to wonder if Carson was about to fire him from West Side Magick.
“Let’s see what’s going on.” Cope headed for Ten’s room.
Thankfully, Cope didn’t seem as upset by the situation as Carson was. Ten would need to carve out some time to speak with him and smooth things over. “Natalie, these are my partners, Carson Craig and Cope Forbes.”
Natalie looked both men over for several seconds. “Tennyson thinks my daughter is still alive. Is she? I need you both to tell me if Amanda is here with me.”
Ten shut the office door behind himself and watched as Carson and Cope settled themselves at the table. Each man took a minute to hold the worn pink blanket. After several seconds of silence, Cope reached for Carson’s hand. Ten knew they were trying to combine their strength. Sometimes this technique worked. Other times, it did not.
After a few silent minutes, Cope opened his eyes. “I can’t find Amanda on the other side.”
“Neither can I,” Carson agreed, his voice taut, “but there could be several reasons for that.”
“What kind of reasons?” Natalie asked, her eyes on Tennyson.
“First of all, is that this item might not have belonged to your daughter.” Carson winced as he spoke. “It’s possible the hospital handed you this blanket as something to comfort you. Your child might not actually have been wrapped in it.”
“Amanda wasn’t born in a hospital, Carson,” Natalie said, sounding testy. “She was born at St. Agnes House, a home for unwed mothers.”
“What?” Carson wore a stunned look.
“I was fifteen and pregnant. My father was afraid my situation would cause him to lose valuable clients and his illustrious standing in the New York City higher echelon, so I was sent here, to Salem, to have my child.” Natalie turned her attention back to Ten. “What should I do now?”
“Have you ever taken one of those genealogy kits?” Ten asked. “You know, like Ancestry or 23 and Me?”
“No, never.” Natalie shook her head as if the thought had never occurred to her.
“That would be my suggestion.” Ten was so amped up at the moment that his hands were shaking. “I want to take a trip to Angel of Mercy Cemetery in the next day or two and check out Amanda’s grave. Can you tell me how to find it?”
Natalie nodded. “It’s in the unconsecrated section of the cemetery. Each grave has a small granite marker with a number carved into it. Amanda’s number is 44. Do you really think it’s possible that my daughter is still alive?”
“I do,” Ten said, watching Carson as he spoke. His friend looked upset, but didn’t look like he was going to fire Ten at the moment. “But, let’s do a little research first before we make a final determination. My husband is a cold case detective. Let me speak with him and see what information we can find about St. Agnes House. We’ll take a trip to the cemetery and you do those genealogy kits. I believe you can order rushed results. When you have them, let’s reconvene. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good to me.” Natalie grabbed the blanket and tucked it back into her bag. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve told me today.”
Please understand that this isn’t ironclad,” Carson said. “We need more information before we make a final determination.”
“I understand that, Carson.” Natlie offered a smile. “When I walked into this shop an hour ago, I had no hope. My child was dead and all I had left was the possibility of being able to speak with her soul. Now, I’m leaving with the chance of the best possible news I ever could have hoped for. I promise that if things turn out that Amanda is dead, I won’t blame you or Tennyson. I’ll be in touch.” Natalie took her bag and headed off.
