Stealing the Countess by David Housewright

she said. “A pleasure to meet you.”
    Her eyes sparkled with humor.
    â€œMs. Kaminsky,” I said. “The pleasure is mine.”
    She exhaled softly—apparently relieved that I hadn’t given her up.
    â€œCaroline is with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources,” Alice said. “She’s investigating the Lake Superior shoreline for … what was it again?”
    Heavenly paused at an empty spot at the dining room table. She looked at me with that beatific grin of hers. I stepped over and pulled out the chair. She answered as she sat.
    â€œI was sent to conduct an inventory of aquatic invasive species in coastal wetlands,” she said.
    â€œTo what purpose?” I asked.
    Heavenly knew I was testing her.
    â€œTo determine which of the region’s canals and waterways are most susceptible to invasion by AIS such as Asian carp,” she said. “And to prioritize those areas for invasive species management and control.”
    â€œWhat have you discovered so far?”
    â€œMy research remains inconclusive. I’ll need to remain here for a few days more.”
    â€œWe’re delighted to have you, Caroline,” Connor said.
    I bet, my inner voice said.
    â€œI don’t know if you know it, but McKenzie, he’s also some kind of an investigator,” Alice said.
    â€œIs that what he is?” Heavenly said.
    â€œHe’s trying to recover the Stradivarius violin that was stolen last week, but he won’t let us help.”
    â€œI’d be too frightened to get involved with something like that,” Heavenly said.
    Yeah, right.
    By then I was sitting comfortably at the table, a scone on my plate.
    â€œMay I trouble you for the marmalade?” I said aloud.
    The fifty-something woman whose name I had forgotten passed it to me without comment.
    Conversation picked up after that, none of it about the Countess Borromeo, I was happy to hear. Mostly, it dealt with the adventures the vacationing couples had already enjoyed in Bayfield and the ones that they were hoping to embark on. Meanwhile, Connor deftly served our breakfast. It consisted of poached pear with yogurt sauce, raspberry-stuffed French toast, baked eggs with tomatoes and basil, red new potatoes with dill, hickory smoked bacon, lemon-iced buttermilk scones, and orange and cranberry-raspberry juice. What I enjoyed most—the bacon. You can’t take me anywhere.
    Connor had returned to the kitchen by the time I asked, “Have any of you seen a woman dressed in a black cloak and carrying a lantern and a long staff with a crystal on top?”
    â€œOh, yes, yes,” said the fifty-something woman. “The Ghost Lady.”
    â€œGhost Lady?”
    â€œShe conducts ghost tours of the city, pointing out those places that are supposed to be haunted. Tells stories—she’s wonderful.”
    â€œShe’s a real flesh-and-blood woman, then.”
    â€œOh, yes. What did you think?”
    â€œI saw her walking late last night and I didn’t know what to think.”
    â€œDid she frighten you, McKenzie?” Heavenly asked. “Were you sure you were seeing a ghost?”
    â€œI was just curious,” I said.
    â€œShe claims that a man was murdered in the Queen Anne,” the fifty-something woman said.
    â€œDon’t say that, Cassie,” her husband said.
    Cassie, my inner voice said. I remember now. Her name’s Cassie. And her husband’s name is … arrrg.
    Cassie leaned forward and lowered her voice.
    â€œThe man who originally built this house was very rich,” she said. “He owned a sawmill, fishing boats, a brownstone quarry, a hotel—a lot of things. Only he died without leaving a will—or at least no one found a will—so everything went to his eldest son, which started a family war that lasted over a hundred years.”
    Cassie edged even closer to the table; we all leaned with her.
    â€œPeople