Cluttered Attic Secrets (Tina Tales) Read online

  Leslie looked disappointed. “I wanted to take some of that stuff to the shop, remember?”

  Tina took a sip of coffee, repressing a sigh. “I’ll tell you what. Hank’s coming back to Newport this afternoon and taking me to dinner. We’ll stop by here afterwards, lure him into the attic, and see what happens.”

  Leslie tried to look severe, but then burst out laughing. “I suppose after we lure him up there, you want me to leave you two alone?”

  “Sure.” Tina was happy to see her friend laughing. “He’ll be like a fish out of water up there, and I can have my way with him.”

  “You go, girl.” Leslie sobered. “I like the idea of seeing what happens if Hank is with us. You don’t think he’ll mind?”

  “No. We can show him the wardrobe trunk, ask him what he thinks. I don’t know whether to tell him about the noises before we go up or not, though.”

  Leslie fiddled with her coffee mug. “Hank being Hank, I think he’ll suspect there’s another reason we’re taking him to the attic besides showing him an old trunk.”

  “True. Well, I could say I wanted him to see it. It would probably amuse him that I thought it was so fascinating.”

  “I’m sure. But let’s just be honest with him. We want him to pay attention to any noises he hears.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him, then. I know he’ll be curious.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I think I’ll go check on the shop. Where are you going to dinner?”

  “Anthony’s.”

  “Call me when you leave there, and I’ll meet you back here.”

  “You want me to spend the night again?”

  Leslie hesitated. “If you don’t mind. Will that interfere with you and Hank?”

  Tina cocked her head. “You know we haven’t slept together yet. He’s waiting for me to make the first move. Teasing. It’s my turn to tease.”

  “Ohhh, bad Tina. Bad Tina.”

  They laughed, and it felt really good.

  CHAPTER 7

  Tina drove home. Her Uncle Bob sat at the kitchen table reading the local newspaper. Princess, his golden Lab hearing service dog, nudged his leg when Tina walked inside. Her uncle looked up and smiled at her. “There you are, kumquat. How’s Leslie?”

  She took off her jacket, draped it over a chair and set her purse on the small kitchen desk before sitting down across from him. She didn’t say anything until he could read her lips.

  “Leslie’s fine. We just needed some girl time.” Tina turned toward the back stairway when she heard her mother descending. Princess’s ears perked up and her beautiful golden tail waved back and forth.

  “I saw you pull in,” her mother said when she entered the kitchen. “Is Leslie okay? You went over there awfully late last night.”

  Tina was not surprised her mother knew when she left. Her bedroom window faced the driveway, and she had a comfortable chair with ottoman angled so she could glance out every so often while reading her current mystery novel.

  “Leslie wanted to show me an old wardrobe trunk she found in the attic. It’s enormous, even had a fold-down ironing board inside.”

  Laura raised her left eyebrow. “And she couldn’t wait until today.”

  Why was her mother so perceptive? It could be quite annoying. “I think she just wanted company. That’s a big old house for one person.”

  “That’s true.” Laura poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. “Leslie’s mother never understood why Margaret didn’t sell it and move into something smaller, easier to keep up.”

  Of course Tina’s mother knew all Leslie’s relatives. She met with Mrs. Young once a month with the other members of the Lunch Bunch. They saw each other at the golf club, at church, at the garden club. Everywhere. “Did you know Margaret very well?”

  “Not too.” Laura stirred her coffee. “She was quite a bit older than we are, maybe a decade or so. But we talked every so often when we ran into each other. You met her a few times at get-togethers at the Young’s house.”

  “I remember her mainly because she seemed kind of flamboyant for Newport.”

  Laura laughed. “She was memorable. Probably a good way to be if you want to sell anything, including real estate. Very down-to-earth, as they say.”

  Uncle Bob cleared his throat. “I used to see her at the Redwood Library every so often. She was always researching something about Newport. Houses in particular.”

  “She ever mention ghosts or haunted houses to you?” Tina asked before thinking. Now she’d done it.

  “No. No she didn’t. Why do you ask?”

  “Something Leslie said about her aunt’s interest in…in ghosts.”

  “Leslie thinks she heard or saw a ghost,” Laura said. It wasn’t a question. “And you went over to investigate.”

  “Busted. Yes. We heard some sounds in the attic. I’m sure they were just old-house noises.”

  Laura glared at her. “What exactly did you hear? Or see?”

  “Just some tapping.” Tina took a sip of coffee. At her mother’s skeptical look, she added, “And some groaning from the floorboards.”

  “There was more.”

  As usual, Laura was relentless. Tina shrugged. “Something crashed after we left the attic. I’m sure one of us brushed against it, and it fell after we got down to the second floor.”

  “Did you find anything interesting in the attic? I suppose the noises came from up there?”

  “Yes, they did. We found that fabulous old wardrobe trunk. And some jewelry.”

  Laura glared. “There’s more you’re not telling us.”

  Tina bit her lip. No way would she tell them about the key. “I feel as if I’m being interrogated here.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m going upstairs. I won’t be home for dinner. Hank’s taking me out.”

  As she left, she heard Uncle Bob ask, “What did she say?”

  She didn’t hear her mother’s reply. After she freshened up, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at herself. What should she do next? She hadn’t had a job in almost two months and was getting antsy. She was tired of shopping, and it was too cold for the usual Newport activities such as lying on the beach or flying her kite at Brenton Point.

  She thought about Leslie. Wondered what she could find out about ghosts on-line. Certainly there’d be information about paranormal sightings in town.

  She walked down the front staircase to the office. Her desk with computer was one of three. Her mother also had a computer set-up, and Uncle Bob had a writing desk where he wrote letters by hand and made up shopping lists. She glanced out the window at the house next door and was happy to see more of it had been painted on the side she could see.

  She sat down and turned on her computer. While waiting for it to boot up, she made a few notes on a small pad she kept nearby. “Ghost sightings in Newport and the rest of the island. Paranormal investigators and their investigations in the area.” And for fun, “Steamer and wardrobe trunks.”

  After about an hour, she’d found out that there were quite a few investigation teams who would be happy to come, with all kinds of equipment, to look for “paranormal activity” in your home, place of business, wherever. The Pilgrim House Inn had been investigated and it had been “proved it had paranormal activity.” Same for the Carey Mansion and the Rose Lighthouse. Someone had even filmed “activity” in the jailhouse.

  Groups were cashing in on fright houses and even tricked out the tunnels under Fort Adams at Halloween to scare visitors. Maybe she’d drag Hank there next time. Or maybe not, although it would be interesting to see his reaction. She wondered if he was even aware of all this supposed paranormal activity on the island in Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth.

  So, should Leslie call one of these investigators? Tina printed out several articles to show her friend. When she turned around she saw her mother standing at the printer in the corner.

  “You didn’t tell me everything, did you?” Laura asked, shuffling through the papers as
she walked over to Tina on the thick Persian rug. The rug that had often muffled her mother’s footsteps and allowed her to catch Tina doing something she’d rather her mother not know about. Maybe she should buy a laptop and work in her room.

  Tina frowned. “What you don’t know won’t upset you.”

  Laura scowled back. “I don’t get upset. I get concerned. You so often seem to get into sticky situations and will never back down.”

  “Not on purpose.”

  Laura handed her the printouts. “I know that. In this case I’m really not worried, only curious. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “That’s good. Neither do I.”

  Her mother studied her. “Something happened last night to shake your unbelief. Give.”

  Tina smiled and shook her head, resigned. “You’re relentless. Have a seat. I’ll tell all.”

  And she did.

  When she finished, Laura sat a few moments, thinking. “What happened with the key is strange. What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m sure Leslie is busy with things at the shop, so I’m going to call some of these investigators and ask them about what Leslie saw and what we heard. I doubt it’s enough to get any of them interested, but you never know.”

  “That’s a good idea. Will you tell Hank?”

  “I’m not sure. What do you think?”

  “I doubt Hank believes in ghosts.”

  They both laughed.

  “But,” Laura continued, “you never know. Hank grew up in Newport, and lived in an old Victorian. His mother has never mentioned that she’s heard anything strange, and we haven’t here. But I don’t know that anyone ever died in this house, or in Mitzi’s. I suggest you learn about the history of Leslie’s house. Particularly find out if anyone died inside it. Especially if they were murdered.”

  “Maybe Margaret was looking into that at the Redwood Library. You think?”

  “Possibly.” Laura stood up. “I need to help Uncle Bob with dinner. When are you and Hank going out?”

  Tina looked at her watch. “Oh, he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I better get ready.” Her heart did something funny in her chest at the thought of seeing him.

  CHAPTER 8

  Tina sat in the living room, restlessly waiting for Hank. It had turned cold again, and she wore black slacks, a purple pullover, and stack-heeled black boots. The doorbell rang at the dot of five-thirty, and she rushed to answer it.

  When she saw him on the front porch, her breath caught, and she fell into his arms.

  He laughed. “Miss me?”

  “No. I tripped.”

  He took her upper arms in his strong hands and gently pushed her away so he could look at her. “You’re adorable, red.” Then he pulled her back and kissed her, long, hard, and thrillingly.

  When they broke apart, Tina could hardly speak. “Let me get my coat and purse,” she finally managed.

  He followed her into the house. Her mother and uncle stood in the hallway. “It’s been awhile,” Laura said. “Welcome back, Hank. How’s Mitzi?” She went to hug him.

  “Hello, Mom, Uncle Bob. Mitzi’s fine; she’s glad I’m back in Newport.” He shook hands with Uncle Bob and gave Princess a scratch under her chin, which she loved.

  Tina was used to Hank calling her mother “mom” and his own mother by her first name, but it still struck her as odd when he did it in practically the same sentence. She took her silver down coat out of the hall closet. Hank helped her into it, and she went to get her purse from the living room.

  She heard her uncle ask, “What’s going on in Upper New York State that kept you away so long?”

  Tina paused, waiting to hear Hank’s answer. “Just a case up there that might have some Newport connections.”

  He’d told her before he left he was a consultant for the Newport police department. She wasn’t sure she believed him. It was rumored he was an undercover cop, but he denied it. One thing she was sure of, he was somehow connected to the department. She wondered what kind of case could keep him away for almost two months without even being able to come home over the weekends. But she doubted he’d tell her.

  She entered the hall again.

  “Ready?” Hank asked. His gray eyes lingered on her face for a few heartbeats, making her tingle.

  She nodded.

  Only a few people were ahead of them in line at Anthony’s. Hank ordered whole fried clams and Tina asked for fried shrimp. They sat down to wait for their food to be cooked. Tina glanced around. The place never changed, and she wouldn’t want it to. They did a big business in take-out foods at the front where glass cases were filled with all kinds of seafood and other goodies. The restaurant, off to the side, also did well. Casual, comfortable and delicious food. What more could anyone ask?

  “What have you been up to since I’ve been gone?” Hank asked.

  “Just chasing a ghost with Leslie.”

  Hank looked startled, but only for a second. “You’re not serious.”

  “Do I ever kid you?” Tina grinned.

  “Of course not. However, you never mentioned it when we talked on the phone.”

  “We just started yesterday. She heard some noises in the attic last night and called me.” Tina told him everything, only pausing when the food came. When done, she took a bite of shrimp and waited for his reaction.

  “That is odd about the key.” Hank ate a fried clam, chewing thoughtfully. “The attic sounds interesting.”

  “So is that trunk.”

  Hank laughed. “Stop drooling. Maybe Leslie will give it to you for Christmas.”

  “I’m already rearranging my bedroom.”

  Hank ate a French fry and rolled his eyes. “You’re so cute.”

  “You can stop drooling, too.”

  Hank laughed again and almost choked on his second French fry. But, typical Hank, he changed the subject abruptly. “What are you going to do about all this? I’m sure you have a plan.”

  She told him about her research. “Did you know about this supposed paranormal activity here in Newport?”

  “Some. I never paid much attention. I knew about the tunnels at Fort Adams and the lighthouse.”

  Tina frowned. “The tunnels being used at Halloween must have started after I left for college. I knew nothing about them. Or the lighthouse.”

  “I think all the interest started from the TV show.”

  “Makes sense. Do you know that woman over there in the corner who keeps staring at you? She’s finished eating, but looks like a hungry cougar.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Hank raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t turn around. “What’s she look like?”

  “Thin, too thin, blonde. Maybe late thirties, early forties, at least ten years older than we are, could be more. I can’t tell how tall she is since she’s sitting down. She’s hardly taken her eyes off of you since we got here.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go get some more cocktail sauce. Sit tight.”

  Tina watched him stand up, turn toward the counter, and after a slight pause, head to the table with the blonde instead of the counter. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything.

  When Hank reached the woman’s table, she stood up, and they hugged. Who was she? After they chatted a few minutes, the two of them headed her way.

  “Tina, this is Nichole Highsmith. Nicole, Tina Shaw.”

  Tina shook Nichole’s bony hand and tried to smile. “Nice to meet you. Won’t you join us?”

  Nichole and Hank sat down. “Nichole and I were working together in New York,” Hank said. “They sent her to Newport for some follow-up.”

  “Oh. What a coincidence that you saw Hank here.”

  “No. I followed him.”

  Hank grinned. Tina clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t sit there open-mouthed. Then she opened them to say, “Why would you do that?”

  “Practice.” At Tina’s look of incredibility, Nichole said, “Seriously, I saw him driving in that Jaguar on East Main Road and wanted to talk to
him, so I followed him. But I didn’t want to interrupt your dinner.”

  Tina didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Everything to do with Hank was mysterious. Part of his charm. Sometimes. This was not one of those times.

  Tina turned to Hank. “So, you’re still on the same case?”

  Hank shifted in his seat. “Sort of.”

  Tina felt the heat rising from her neck to her face.

  Hank took her hand. “Don’t be angry. I’m not secretive because I want to be. It’s part of the job.”

  Tina wouldn’t look at Nichole, but she could feel the woman’s eyes on her, appraising eyes. She made herself calm down. Pushed her plate away and refused to say anything more.

  “Nichole,” Hank said, “I’ll catch you later. Where are you staying?”

  “The Seaview. Room 202.”

  Hank stood up and threw a few bills on the table. “Let’s go.”

  Tina hesitated, then put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and followed Hank. She said good-bye to Nichole over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you,” she lied.

  In the parking lot, Hank held the Jaguar’s door for her, and she sank into its plush leather seat with a sigh. After he drove out of the parking lot, Tina asked, “Where are we going?”

  “My place. Where we can talk in private.”

  Tina glanced at him. He looked determined. But he often looked determined. What were they going to do at his place? He hadn’t taken her there for months, not since they had a discussion about their relationship that didn’t turn out too well. She hoped this wouldn’t go the same way, but she had a bad feeling. They didn’t say anything more on the drive.

  He pulled into the attached garage to his sleek ranch house and turned off the engine. Tina got out of the car without his help and stood waiting for him. He opened the door into the house, and with a sweeping gesture of his arm, invited her in. “Have a seat in the living room. I’ll get us something to drink.”

  She walked through the kitchen, past the breakfast room and chose a chair in the living room. Hank came in quickly with two brandy snifters and handed her one. “Drambuie.”