Reluctant to enter the oppressive pall of wetash in town, Sam decided to explore the lane of cottages where Mariah lived. Half-way down, at a cottage nearly concealed by rambling roses, an older woman with a thick straight salt-and-pepper mane caught in a black ribbon looked up from her overgrown cottage garden. “I see you found the lilies. I used to tend them, but I can’t get up there much thesedays.”
Knowing she would be late,Sam stopped anyway. “I hope you don’t mind that I divided them. I want to find some manure or compost to feed them. I don’t suppose you know anyone with astable?”
“I know someone with a compost bin. I’ll have him leave a load next time he’s by. I’m Gladys. You must be Zach and Susanna’s daughter. You look like both yourparents.”
Someone besides Cass knew her parents! Here was anothername for Walker’s list, and she seemed more talkative than the others. Sam was dying to ask about her parents, but now probably wasn’t the besttime.
“I’m Samantha. I can haul the compost if you tell me where to find it. I have to go into work now or Dinah will be swamped. May I bring you up a piece of pie later and we can talk? I’m not familiar with the soil here, but you seem to havea knack.” She gestured at the lush garden growing despite theshade.
“That would be delightful but not necessary, luv. Tell Dinah her mother has passed and is sorry for not understanding.” Gladys picked up her basket and vanished beneath a rose-covered arch at the rear of theyard.
“Way too much weird for one day,” Sam muttered. Almost afraid to pass on the message, she found a shadyplace in town to store the lilies before entering the busy diner. The rich aroma of coffee replaced the nasty stench lingeringoutside.
Mariah shoved the carafe at her and indicated the tables by the window. Sam now knew that she had waited tables in high school. Apparently her subconscious had known she could handle the job, even when she couldn’t remember it. She washed and began pouringcoffee.
Most of the customers today were locals. The tourists who often stopped in after their weekend visit had already left the mountain, which still smoldered in thedistance.
Once breakfast was served, they stopped for a break. Dinah cut cinnamon rolls for tasting. Sam sipped her tea and offered the odd information she’d received. “I had a strange encounter with Gladys this morning.She told me to tell you that your mother has passed and regrets not understanding. Is Gladys a friend ofyours?”
Dinah’s eyes got wide, and she sat abruptly on a stool she kept behind the counter. “I better call my brother,” she muttered, looking teary-eyed.
Mariah put down the coffee carafe and joined them. “You have a brother? Is heill?”
“Gladysspoke to Sam. What timeis it back there? Noon? I’d better try to catch him when he’s at lunch.” Dinah got up and hurried for her office, where she kept alandline.
“Gladys spoke?” Maria poured herself a cup of coffee and regarded Sam with interest. “Dotell.”
“She had bad news about Dinah’s mother, apparently. I don’t know why she didn’t tell Dinah herself.” Feeling uneasy under Mariah’s stare, Sam nibbledthe mouth-watering cinnamonbun.
“Because Dinah isn’t a sensitive,” Mariah explained, gesturing with her cup. “She talks about auras and maybe she even sees them, but she’s been faking for so long, even she doesn’t know what’sreal.”
Sam wrinkled her nose at this non-explanation. “What does being sensitive have to do with Gladys? She seemed quite sensible tome.”
“Gladys diedof breast cancer last year,” Mariah said, watching Sam. “They buried her casket beside her husband in the cemetery, but I have a feeling they buried part of her in hergarden.”
“What part, her heart?” Sam said with mockery. “And that allows her to keepliving?”
“Don’t be such a Null,” Mariah retorted. “Gladys is dead. But her garden lives. Until now, I’m the only who has seen her.I suppose the solstice could make the veil thinner, as it does at Halloween, so even a near-Null could seeher.”
“That’s absurd,” Sam protested, like aNull.
“Sturdy lady, gorgeous long graying dark hair?” Mariahasked.
“Yes. Maybe it’s herdaughter?”
Mariah shook her head. “That’s Gladys. She had no kids. We’re waiting for the Kennedys to realize the lot is being heldby the state and to snatch it up for their inventory. But right now, no one livesthere.”
“Someone does. The garden is gorgeous,” Sam argued, not mentioning the compost conversation. She’d thought she’d finally found a source, and it would be too disappointing—and frightening—if she’d imagined a conversation with aghost.
“Some of us try to keep it up to hide the fact that the houseis empty, but mostly, the garden tends itself—as if a ghost gardener maintains it.” Mariah finished eating her bun withoutconcern.
“Then you’d better hope your ghost catchers don’t catch her,” Sam said in disgust, before turning to take orders from a newcustomer.
But when she walked back up to her apartment after the lunch rush, a dump load of beautifully composted dirt awaitedher outside Gladys’scottage.
