“Are you afraid?”
“No.”
“Well, then.” He rocked back on his heels. Truth was, when it came to things like that he didn’t know what to believe. He’d never seen an actual ghost, but there were times …
He clenched his teeth as he remembered. The day Erin had died he’d had the worst feeling. A pain in his chest he couldn’t explain that had gone as suddenly as it had come. Hours later Jess had come to tell him the news while Sarah and Meggie had gone to be with Josh in Hartford. Tom had been full of grief but not surprised. Somehow he’d known. How was that possible?
And that was way too much to spill to Abby Foster tonight.
“Whatever … whoever it is, it’s not angry at me. That’s just it, Tom.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Something was left unfinished here. I know it and it makes me uneasy sometimes.”
“What was left unfinished?”
“I don’t know. I think it has something to do with Edith, though. When I look up the stairs, it feels so heavy, so … I don’t know how to explain it. It’s going to sound crazy…”
He stepped forward, a bit relieved. It was no secret that Edith Foster had died after taking a fall down those stairs. “You do know Edith fell, right? I bet it’s just knowing how she died that makes them seem kind of…”
Her wide eyes met his, utterly earnest. “Sinister?”
He swallowed.
“What if she didn’t fall? What if she was pushed?”
“Oh, Abby…”
And yet there was that dark, heavy feeling again. God, she was putting ideas in his head now. This was what came from being brought up around a family of superstitious fishermen. He could tell himself it was utter nonsense until the cows came home. And there would still be a part of him that would believe.
“I felt it before I ever knew the story. That very first afternoon before you showed up. I got the oddest sensation when I stood at the bottom and looked up. Besides…”
She stopped, shook her head. “Never mind.”
He frowned. This was really bothering her. “No, what? Besides what?”
She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I’ve seen her, Tom. That day we were in the basement. I know it was her because she looked just like her picture in the dining room.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” he said gently, trying to put her off, freaked out a little bit because he actually believed her. He’d been just as glad to get out of the basement as she’d been; there’d been a cold, odd feeling to it that he couldn’t explain. “And you have an overactive imagination.”
“Maybe.” She put her hands together. “I thought maybe it’s because … because I’m lonely and this place is so empty. That I don’t have any family so I’m coming up with stuff in my head to make connections that aren’t there.”
Tom was on good terms with loneliness. He knew how to be a recluse with the best of them, but it didn’t usually involve conjuring up dead relatives. It was good Abby went to Jess’s tonight no matter what the outcome. “You just need to get out more,” he suggested.
Her gaze dropped. “I’m not really good at that. I’m sort of … introverted. I’m okay once I get somewhere but nervous about going in the first place. I fake it and smile a lot, but I don’t tend to open up easily.”
“You seem to be doing okay tonight,” he observed.
“That might be the wine talking.” Her smile was sideways, and he couldn’t help but smile back. She was probably right.
“So that’s what you got into.”
“Jess had a pinot noir that was really good. It was such a fun evening…” She laughed a little. “Next time I go to a class I’ll make sure I have the number for the cab before I leave.”
He nearly said not to worry, he could always come to get her, but bit his tongue. He really should go rather than stand here like an idiot. “You going to be okay now?”
She nodded. “I think so. It’s just the dark. The worst part is going up the stairs, knowing they’re dark at the top.”
“I can put in a three-way switch so you can turn the hall light on from the bottom and vice versa.”
“Really?”