Page 126 of In the Pursuit of Haven
“Only that you got further than she did. I’m actually going to let you climb up the secret staircase.”
I didn’t kid myself that this special treatment was for me. The staircase itself was unimpressive, steep and narrow like going up the lighthouse, but as she led the way, I studied the red brick behind the chimney for any discoloration, any clue that something had been pushed out of place.
Jessie took it one step further and touched the walls as we passed by. “How’s the workmanship?” he asked. “Have you ever had to replace anything?”
She laughed. “Not personally.”
Too quickly, we were up the staircase and entering an attic room without seeing anything out of the ordinary. “This would’ve belonged to Clifford Garret,” she said. “He stayed here after being released for the murder of his uncle… if he were real, that is.”
That would’ve been a great story. I let out a breath.Good job, Hawthorne! Sheesh, I thought we had a lead there!
I stared up at a portrait of a stern man with a long Abraham Lincoln-type beard. “That’s Horace Connolly, Susannah’s adopted son,” Ruth said. “He inspired a few of Hawthorne’s stories, I heard.”
The room was a pleasant, though cramped setup with wooden walls and a window that gave us an inspiring view of the Salem Harbor… and I wasn’t seeing anything that could potentially be a clue.
We were chasing our tails.
My phone beeped and, glancing down on the screen, I saw that Abby had texted: “Watch out. Trouble is coming your way.”
I jumped, my gaze sweeping over to Jessie. She must’ve tried him first, but the last thing he was doing right now was checking his phone.
Ruth led us from Clifford’s room and entered the attic. “This still has most of the original framing from the gable in 1668,” she said. “It could’ve been used by the servants for sleeping quarters, but rumors say that runaway slaves might’ve stayed here since Salem was a stop on the Underground Railroad.”
I tried to catch Jessie’s eyes as he studied the exposed beams above us. Someone had taken a blade to the wood to scratch something out. It looked like a bunch of “W’s.”
And I’m trying too hard.
“That’s the original framing and rafters from the façade gable in 1668,” Ruth said. “Other pieces were salvaged from the original architecture.”
“So you’re saying that this is old?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah, duh.” She winked to soften her teasing.
A prime place to find a relic, and yet we were running out of time. Holding up my phone behind Ruth’s back, I pointed at Abby’s text. Jessie was squinting at the exterior wall on the gable above the window.
There was writing up there, though it was very faded. It looked like an “F” or an “E” and then “A” or an “H” and a “T?” Eat? Or was I looking at this all wrong and that was just another “W?” My mind was going haywire since I’d decided they were everywhere.
“What’s that?” Jessie asked, pointing up.
Or we can just ask—that works.
Ruth’s brow lifted. “Ah yes, that’s E.A.U., the initials were carved there by Eben Albert Upton II. He was grandson to Henry and Elizabeth Upton; they were the couple that purchased the House of the Seven Gables in the middle of the 19th century.”
What if those initials had been blamed on the boy? The writing was pretty high up there and by the time he was tall enough to reach above the window, he should’ve known better.
Jessie also studied it dubiously. He must be having the same doubts… and he also didn’t know that Abby was trying to warn us off.
I texted her back: “What’s happening? Did Jessie tell you we were at the Hawthorne House?”
Ruth motioned us to a tiny model of this place. “This shows the progression of what was changed over the years with the remodeling. Supposedly, the gables are original to the first construction of the house, and then they were taken off to make the place more ‘modern.’ After that, Susanna told Hawthorne about them and he wrote them into his book, and so later, the gables were put back on to bring in tourism. See? You can pull parts off the miniature house to get a before and after…and aftereffect.” She tugged at the pieces to demonstrate gables going on and coming off again.
This definitely gave us something to go on. Surely, the Shepherds would’ve kept the Relic in a part of the house that was more stable? This attic had been here the whole time…and this isn’t getting us anywhere.If Ruth knew something because she was a Crowninshield, then she should tell us already. Trouble was on its way.
I took a deep breath, deciding we were getting the truth once and for all. “You know, Abby was telling me that you have some friends in town—Brecker and Caitlyn.”
Jessie’ dropped a piece of the gable to the table. His frantic glance shot to me.
“Who?” Ruth asked.
