LITMIR.BIZ

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said Leigh, bringing Agnes a cup of water.

      “Thank you,” said Agnes.

      “Nancy Holland reportedly went down the well, but her body was never recovered,” I said, catching on to Agnes’s line of thinking. “Jedediah left the island with a woman, who was clearly not Patience. Agnes, you told me that Nancy and Jedediah had had a thing before he’d married Patience.”

      “Do you think that Nancy staged her own death after she and Jedediah killed Patience, and then they left the island together?” said Andy.

      “It seems possible,” I said. “Nancy Holland and Jedediah could have killed Patience Cooper and made up the story about the attack.”

      “Meanwhile, my poor family has had a black stain on it for generations, while the Hollands were the real criminals,” said Agnes.

      “It would explain why people thought they saw Jedediah leave the island with a woman,” said Bellows. “And it would explain why the Holland family didn’t want to disinter Nancy’s body after she allegedly went down the well. Better that the Coopers be the bad guys.”

      Agnes nodded vehemently. I could see that my morning’s discovery and subsequent investigation had had a profound impact on her. What had started for me as an otherworldly connection to Nantucket’s candle-making past had led to a much deeper significance for Agnes. I admired her pride in her family, but also feared that without some closure, she might be haunted by the story in a very unhealthy way.

      “Why don’t we clear this up,” I said. “Couldn’t we find out if Nancy is down the well?”

      “Could we?” said Agnes, a tear springing to her eye. “If she’s not, you may find you have a cold case with poor Patience.”

      “As one of the island’s historians, I’d like to second the motion that we explore the well,” said Bellows. “I am humbled and thrilled to have arrived on Nantucket at a time when this discovery has been made. I will make it my mission to see it through.”

      “Mr. Bellows,” said Solder. “This is a scientific endeavor, not a storyteller’s indulgence.”

      “I beg your pardon,” said Bellows, his eyes practically dropping from their sockets.

      “I’m sure this could be a great scientific discovery for us, as well as a wonderful story for Mr. Bellows to add to the history books,” said Leigh. “We could get our equipment together by tomorrow and explore the well with no problem if Mr. Holland agrees.”

      “Old Holly is under no obligation to open up his well,” said Andy. “Especially for a rumor we’re starting.”

      “I’ll take care of that,” said Agnes.

      She whipped out her phone. She had dialed before anyone could argue.

      “Holly? It’s Agnes,” she said.

      I motioned for her to put the call on speaker.

      “What do you want?” said a gruff voice.

      “You lying, stinking cheat,” she said. “I just found out that Nancy Holland never killed herself. In fact, she had a hand in killing Patience Cooper, and then took off with her husband. I wouldn’t put it past you to have known all these years.”

      “What the hell are you talking about, you old bat?” he said.

      “I’m talking about the fact that I’m standing next to Patience Cooper’s skeleton.”

      “I don’t believe you,” he said. “And I couldn’t care less, even if you were standing next to the bones of your family’s good-for-nothing thief.”

      “I’m with a specialist in bones. We’re coming over tomorrow morning to open up your well to confirm that it is empty.”

      “Like hell you are,” he said.

      “Wait!” I said, before Old Holly could hang up. “Hi! It’s Stella Wright. I’m here with Officer Southerland and someone from the Nantucket Historical Association too.”

      Old Holly cleared his throat.

      “Hello,” he said, more politely. “I appreciate your interest, but I am not opening my well.”

      “I can understand,” I said. “But you know how stories fly. If it turns out Nancy’s body is there, as you believe it is, then we can put Agnes’s suspicions to rest. However, if we let the story marinate, you’ll have all sorts of people showing up at your house, looking for access to the well, wanting to know about the story. It will never end, and you’ll never have a moment of peace.”

      “Goddamn, Agnes. What have you done?” said Old Holly. “I was planning to watch baseball tomorrow.”

      “Mr. Holland,” I said, thinking of something that might put him over the edge. “I can have my cousins out to your house today to clear the backyard for you, to create easy access to the well.”

      “I’ll ask the Historical Association to consider covering the costs,” Bellows said.

      “Not necessary,” said Solder.

      My cousins, Ted and Docker Wright, are the proud owners of Wright Brothers Carting Company. They recently bought an extra truck and had hopes for further expansion, so I knew they’d be happy for the extra income. Clearing yards isn’t part of their usual scope of work, but they were used to adding extra tasks to get the job done, especially while they were building their business. Hopefully, it would be a win-win opportunity for everyone.

      “Yard work?” said Old Holly.

      There was a pause. We all stared at Agnes’s phone.

      “Fine,” he said. “But don’t remove the body. I’m not allowed. Family rules.”

      “We’ll be there tomorrow morning for the excavation,” said Leigh. She looked at Solder with a pleased expression, but he had begun to measure Patience’s bones.

      “Wonderful,” I said.

      Agnes hung up and looked at me. The laugh lines around her eyes had disappeared and a hollow darkness was left behind. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, and hoped tomorrow would give her peace.

      “Up you go, Agnes,” I said. “Let’s leave the experts to their work. I’m going home to pack up a few items for my stay at the Morton house.”

      “Honestly, I’m nervous about what we might find tomorrow,” said Agnes when we reached our cars. “I’m heading back to the library to get you that diary you asked for earlier.”

      Agnes started her car, and I could see that there was nothing I could do to stop her. I decided that a little routine might steady her nerves, so I made her promise to attend our regularly scheduled candle class tomorrow morning before she drove away.

      Andy and Leigh walked up the lawn to me.

      “We called your cousin Ted. He said thanks for the job,” Andy said. “The chief also assigned me to be at Old Holly’s tomorrow. You should have some official presence around.”

      “What are you going to do with Patience’s body now that we’re looking into Nancy too?” I said, impressed by how my town was coming together so quickly to learn more about these women.

      Andy pushed his cap up his forehead an inch or two.

      “Bellows was on the phone with the Historical Association,” he said. “He was angling to move the body over to the museum by the end of tonight, but Solder put his foot down.”

      “From a scientific perspective, we’d like to keep the body on site, in case we find another tomorrow and there are points of comparison to make,” Leigh said in Solder’s defense.

      I was thinking about my impending slumber party with Patience as I headed home to pack a few clothes for me and provisions for Tinker. I really hoped my stay at the Morton house would inspire

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