Page 75 of You'll Be Sorry

“You can ask Genn at the deli. I believe Genn heads up once amonth to pick up a fresh batch of soaps and drop off some staples in return.”

“So, not a young woman?” Mandy attempted.

“By our standards…” A shared giggle.

Lydia did the honors. “She’d already moved into the cabin and set up her business when the Dixons were around. I suppose that’d make her at least older than fifty.”

Mandy did her best to summarize the new and startling information. “So Isla’s a middle-aged reclusive female. The last living McLean makes soaps, lives off the land, and she’s Wiccan. Do you know why she’d be snooping around the Dixon property?”

“Hasn’t the entire town snooped around that property? What’s the point of having a local haunted house if you can’t check it out?”

“Plus, they’d be neighbors of a sort. Close enough as the crow flies.”

“True,” Lydia agreed. “Cutting a path straight through the woods, she’d be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

“You should check with Mason,” Lana suggested. “I bet there are some juicy personal accounts of nefarious McLean deeds in the historical society records.”

“Steal your cattle and your wife,” Lydia reminded. She added in a stage whisper, “There’s been at least one redhead in the Dixon family ever since their property lines adjoined.” She nodded sagely.

“Umm, thanks. Guess I’ll be paying Isla McLean a visit.”

“Not in that uniform,” Lydia stated immediately. “Isla’s not a fan of law enforcement.”

Mandy shrugged. “I’ll wear my orange safety vest. I’m assuming she knows better than to shoot at patches of orange moving through the woods?”

Lydia and Lana honestly had to take a moment to consider the matter.

“I think she’d at least aim the first shot over your head,” Lydia said, while Lana declared: “You should arrive bearing gifts. Lydia made some cinnamon rolls earlier. We’ll put together a basket.”

“I can manage a welcome basket,” Mandy declared in exasperation. “I’ll assemble a storm kit, with a heavy-duty flashlight, extra batteries, and an emergency radio. That’s a decent enough excuse for stopping by, especially this time of year.”

Those twin stares again.

“Fine, I’ll include your cinnamon rolls and add a rotisserie chicken.”

Finally, nods of approval. Dear Lord, Mandy thought. They were making it sound like it’d be easier for her to confront a crazed poacher or a serial killer. A lone hermit in the woods…She could handle this.

She was the town police chief, after all.

Though she did have one final question.

“Can you tell me how to get to her house?”

25

Raquel performed her photography trick with the faded name scrawled inside the diary, adjusting various effects until the print darkened enough to read more of the letters.

Not Ruth, she thought. Maybe Rita? Which was not a common female name in the Americas back in the 1790s, but spoke to Italian connections, either for herself or her parents. Last name maybe Locke or Light? The embellishments made it tricky. But for now she was going with Rita Louise Locke or Rita Louise Light. She added to that: midwife, 1700s, New Hampshire. She started plugging that information into one of the ancestry sites, while explaining to Adams and Theo what else she’d learned at the historical society. How many of the birth accounts in the woman’s professional ledger weren’t included in any of the official genealogy databases. Five babies who’d died within twenty-four hours, over a span of five months.

Adams had gotten it right away. “That doesn’t make any sense. Even infant fatalities were recorded. There were plenty of sad couples where that wasn’t the exception but the norm.”

“Where do the ‘official’ genealogy records come from?” Theo wanted to know.

“Government census records,” Adams supplied. “Plus verified listings from old Bibles or family trees mapped by hobbyists. I’m thinking births from the 1790s were often discovered from logs such as this one.”

“So…” Theo was thoughtful. “This register obviously couldn’t be used, as it was sealed in crockery and tossed in a well. But the infants should’ve still been listed in family records—say, historic Bibles?”

“In theory,” Adams agreed.