If Catfish Had Nine Lives(42)

            “So, what does the new ghost, Joe, want? You said you’d tell me his reason for being here.”

            “And that’s another reason I’ve come to visit you today. I hope you can help me find some currently living people.”

            “Piece of cake.”

            “When Joe died, and we don’t know exactly where that was or the circumstances surrounding his death, he had some mail—in a mochila, very similar to the one you have but with less scribbling on it—that didn’t get delivered. Over the years, he and Gram have been passing along the contents of the letters to living relatives of the original intended recipients. There are three more letters, and once they’re delivered, he and Gram think something will happen.”

            “Oh, Betts, that’s probably one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever heard. How wonderful. What will happen to him when the letters are delivered?”

            I shrugged. “No one knows, but that seems to be how the rules work with our visitors—there are no rules, or the rules get made up as we go, or the rules get constantly rewritten.”

            “I see,” Jake said. “That bursts the intrigue bubble a little bit, but still, carry on.”

            “The letter I read was to Elaine and Frederick Morrison, and it was from her brother, Isaac. Here, I wrote down the address, which still exists, but Elaine and Frederick would, of course, be long gone by now.”

            Jake inspected the note I’d written with the date of the letter, the recipients, the sender, and the address.

            “The letter was about Isaac being concerned about the state of the country—the North versus the South. The family was from Georgia but had moved to Broken Rope. Georgia had just seceded when he wrote the letter, and he wasn’t sure where his loyalties were going to lie. It would be wonderful to know what happened to them all.”

            “Huh. Love this.” Jake moved to his computer desk and started typing. Only a few seconds later, he said, “I found Elaine and Frederick.”

            “Already?”

            “Yep, this cemetery site is amazing. They’re buried in the bigger cemetery out past that new subdivision that’s being built.”

            “That’s not a Broken Rope cemetery,” I said.

            “Nope,” Jake said. “But it’s in our county.”

            “I wonder why they weren’t buried in Broken Rope,” I said.

            Jake shrugged. “They might not have lived in town their whole lives. They’re pretty close by, though, so that’s good. Here, let me see who’s living in their house now. This isn’t as easy.”

            I was quiet as Jake worked the keyboard again, this time with more sound effects: things like “Hmmm” and “Oh!” and “I see.”

            “Here we go. Do you know the Baxters? Livia and Wayne? They live at that address now.”

            “Not well. Can you see if they were somehow related to Elaine and Frederick?”

            “Not this way, but I can try to do some genealogy to see who their descendants are and if there are any close by.”

            “Great.”

            “That’ll take a little longer, though. I’ll need to get back to you. Was there something else you wanted that I could look for quickly?”

            “You hired the actors for all the skits, didn’t you?”

            “Yes.”

            A shadow of pain moved over Jake’s eyes. Of course, he was still upset about Norman. I’d been so focused on getting the answers I needed that I hadn’t asked how he was, other than his date.