“Sally, I have to say, you might be the most interesting person I’ve ever spoken to. Living or other,” Natalie added softly.
“Thank you. You as well. It’s been so nice to speak with another woman.”
“There must be others here. Like you.”
Sally tipped her head. “Not like you, so thank you for the conversation. I’ve kept you for too long. I’ll let you get back to your handsome beau.”
“He is handsome, isn’t he?” Natalie grinned.
Sally returned her smile, then delivered what could only be called a curtsy before she said, “Have a lovely evening.”
Natalie blew out a breath and reached for the beer again. When she glanced up Liam was watching her.
“I’m sorry. I have a lot to catch you up on.”
“I think I got most of it. Basically AI killed Lionel?”
“AI in the hands of a boy with issues combined with one big horrible misunderstanding killed Lionel.” Natalie shook her head. “The ghost of the wife of one of Yale’s founding professors from seventeen-oh-one, who is now an AI expert from sitting in on so many classes here, had the final piece of the puzzle. Harper is going to lose her mind when I tell her.”
“That is pretty mind-boggling,” Liam agreed. “But I think I’m ready to put New Haven in the rear-view mirror.”
So was she.
Epilogue
Weeks passed and turned into months. Winter snow turned to spring mud and Mudville lived up to its name in spectacular fashion.
The citizens of Mudville had short memories and soon the next tidbit of gossip grabbed their attention and the shop’s business returned to normal.
Natalie and Lionel settled into a routine built around a truce and at least a growing tolerance if not mutual respect for one another.
It worked. As the ever cranky mailman dumped yet another pile of mail on the counter, Natalie spotted something different beneath the stack.
She rushed to the counter, pushed aside the envelopes and smiled.
“It’s here!” she shouted to anyone, living or ghost, who might be in the vicinity.
Liam emerged from the door to the apartment and Jules from the back where she’d been unboxing yesterday’s shipment of wine.
Natalie held in her hand a copy of the journal containing Lionel’s promised Mudville article. The historical world was eating up the discovery of the train depot’s hidden documents. And even if it was posthumous, Lionel was basking in praise.
“Is that the article?” Liam asked, two mugs in his hand.
Natalie nodded. “Yes. I have to text Harper.” So that Harper could tell Gabe, so that Gabe could tell Lionel, who’d claimed the second floor of the library as his personal space.
“Cool,” Jules said, then turned back to her task. History was not her field of study nor her interest. Not even local history. But she’d grow into it, hopefully. A person couldn’t live among it like Natalie did and not take an interest.
Liam extended one of the mugs toward her.
“Thanks.” She glanced up to take it and noticed him staring. “What?”
“You okay?”
She lifted a brow. “Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Lionel is leaving today.”
She let out a laugh. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. And I actually mean fine,” she added, knowing Liam’s feelings about that word.
