"Works for us," Silas said.
"Happy to help," Harry said.
When they were seated, with loaded plates before them, Harry shared what he'd learned about Aunt Lizzy.
"I told you Miss Pinkerton would know more," Silas said.
"Three black cats..." Joe said.
Three pairs of eyes focused on Joe. "You know about them?" Harry asked.
"Names... Blackstone, Charcoal, Midnight. Grandfather said... cats followed her everywhere... told her things..."
"How did they do that?" Harry asked.
"No idea... but she understood them..." Joe said.
"No wonder people thought she was a witch," Bertie said.
********************
Harry was at his desk Monday morning, reading Miss P's information about Aunt Lizzy. A second email contained details Glory had obtained from those who had seen the ghost. "Something's happening out there," he said to himself.
"Talking to yourself?"
Harry looked up and grinned as Bertie closed the door behind her. "Didn't realize I said that out loud. Anyway, here's what Glory has learned since Saturday.... In a nutshell: someone walking on the hillside, just before dark, where Lizzy used to walk; might be a woman, but not sure; wearing long dark coat; bushy hairdo, looking down at the ground, as if searching for something.
"When it's done, send a copy to my computer, please." He got up, refilled his coffee mug, then sat down and opened a document on the computer. "Meanwhile, I'm going to read it again and see if any possible explanations come to mind."
She looked at him. "You're going out there tonight, aren't you?"
He grinned. "Maybe."
********************
That evening, Harry parked his truck in a gravel pit at the edge of town. A van was parked up at the far end, near the trail. Was there a connection? Was someone doing some kind of wildlife survey? A scientific study of some type? Or perhaps something illegal?
There was no sign of movement around the van, so he started up the trail, walking carefully to avoid making sudden noises. Forty-five minutes later, he noticed something off to his right. Someone, dressed as the 'ghost' was described, was sitting on a rock, writing in a large notebook. Inching closer, he realized the person was drawing.
"I know you're there. Perhaps you should identify yourself before you come any closer." The voice was definitely female.
"Harry Hogan. I was trying not to startle you, in case you're a ghost."
"Eliza Flannigan. Not the ghost of Aunt Lizzy, but she was one of my ancestors."
Harry spotted another rock sticking up out of the ground and sat down. "So you're aware of the ghost stories, but are you aware that people think you're her ghost, returned to her former habitat?"
She looked up, eyes wide. "I hope my presence hasn't upset anyone."
"Not seriously," Harry said. "What are you doing out here in the semi-darkness?"
"Soaking up the atmosphere. The shadows aren't quite right for sketching tonight."
"Do you know the story of what happened to her?" Harry asked.
