“Magic?” Ben echoed.
Monty shrugged. “Lila appears to be the only ghost from the wreck. If she worked a desperate spell trying to save herself or the ship, it might not have gone as intended.”
“Interesting angle.” Erik was already thinking of possibilities.
Monty sipped his coffee. “Other than the storm, are things staying quiet for the two of you?”
Erik nodded. “For now—don’t jinx us. We could use some downtime.”
“Better get some rest before the festival plans ramp up,” Monty warned. “You know what a big deal that is.”
Erik and Ben both nodded, and Ben groaned. “Yeah, we know. Great for tourism, and a ton of work to prepare.” The Awesome Autumn Festival created a week-long celebration with plenty of special events, with participation by the town’s Arts Council and business owners.
“Still beats the downsides of my old job,” Erik joked.
Before he moved to Cape May and bought Trinkets, an antique and curio shop, Erik had used his expertise in art to travel the world helping museums and law enforcement find stolen masterpieces and stop smuggling rings. That had earned him powerful enemies, including Bratva, the Russian Mob.
Ben had been a Newark cop and private investigator before he came to Cape May to take over his aunt and uncle’s rental real estate company. He had been involved in several high-profile busts that involved the Newark Mafia, a group with a long memory.
Despite Erik and Ben trying to stay low-profile, old cold cases often attracted the notice of bad guys who wanted to elude authorities. Erik’s abilities as a psychometric to read the history of objects by touch and Ben’s sleuthing talents had landed them in hot water a couple of times when scandals and murders meant the past refused to stay buried and forgotten.
“Even if Lila was a stowaway and her death wasn’t counted with theMohawksinking, if I can find out a last name, maybe we can figure out who she was and help her move on,” Erik said.
This time the wind nearly took their cups off the table, and the sky had grown darker.
“Guess it’s time for me to go back to work.” Monty stood. “Thanks for the visit. Best go straight home. This storm isn’t going to be anything to fool with.”
“Sometimes a ghost is just a ghost,” Ben said as they headed for Erik’s SUV.
“Yeah, but if Jon says Lila is an omen, then there’s more to the story aside from her death,” Erik countered. They barely made it into the Highlander before the rain started, pelting the windshield with fat drops.
“Admit it, you’re bored and looking for the next case.” Ben gave a fond grin as he reached over to rest his hand on Erik’s thigh as he drove.
“Busted,” Erik replied. “And maybe for once, this one won’t have any ties to organized crime.”
“When did we ever get that lucky? After all, this is Jersey,” Ben replied.
Erik had already called Susan and told her to go home before the storm broke. They were unlikely to get any customers in a raging thunderstorm, and at least she would get home without being soaked.
That also meant unlocking the door in the rain once they arrived. Ben ran ahead with the key and an umbrella as soon as Erik parked. Erik followed, holding the hood of his rain jacket tight against the wind. Neither man stayed completely dry, but they weren’t wet to the skin, so Erik counted it as a win.
He turned on the lights and went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee, since they had both finished their takeout lattes.
Ben got his laptop and sat at the table. “I’m going to see what I can find about that shipwreck. It’s a long shot trying to find out more about Lila, but sometimes I get lucky.”
“I can help you get lucky,” Erik teased with a smirk.
“Hold that thought,” Ben replied. “I’m all for it.”
Moving in together was relatively recent, and the shift had gone smoother than either man dared hope. Ben had been living in one of the rental units for Nolan Rental Real Estate, the company he took over for his aunt and uncle when they retired. Erik had the apartment above Trinkets, which was big enough for both of them. Erik loved the new arrangement, and Ben swore he was happy with it too.
“While you do that, I’m going to look at the inventory list,” Erik said. “TheSS Mohawksounds familiar.”
As soon as the coffee finished brewing and they both had fresh steaming cups, Erik went to his office and pulled up the files he needed. Trinkets added to their supply of antiques andcollectibles almost daily, between what people dropped by to sell and what Erik acquired online and at estate sales.
He started searching on theMohawkand found several similarly-named ships that had all come to a bad end. Monty had said that Lila’s unlucky craft had gone down in the 1920s, so that helped eliminate the false leads. It also meant that divers and ocean currents had a century to strip away anything that survived the fire and the crash onto the bottom of the ocean.
Being a psychometric who could sense the energy and history of objects by touching them, Erik carefully curated the pieces he sold in the shop to do no harm. Those that radiated malevolence or bad magic, he secured and sent to a contact in Charleston equipped to cleanse or destroy them.
