What Lies Beneath the Graves by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Author:Kathryn Meyer Griffith [Griffith, Kathryn Meyer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy murder mystery Romance Women Sleuths artist, Kathryn Meyer Griffith Psychic fortune teller, Spookie Town Murder Mysteries Missing girls abduct tarot cards cemetery gazebo, Buried Treasure coins suspense thriller small town ambience, bookstore creek drowning old woman in danger Chicago police, donut shop wedding fog diner treasure hunt cop
Publisher: Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Published: 2018-05-11T04:00:00+00:00

MYRTLE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP before the end of the movie, Ghost Story, and Glinda covered her with a blanket and left her on the couch. Outside in the night she could hear owls calling to each other. Framed in the window was a huge white shining moon.

Glinda made sure the house was locked up tight and then she retired to her bed. Amadeus snuggled in beside her and by the time his purring had dissipated there were three more cats crowded around her and she slept.

She was again with Masterson but this time during a violent storm on the ship and the vessel was breaking into pieces on the rocks. She could hear the cries and screams of the drowning sailors as the water swept them away and the undercurrents took them under. The wind howled, the sea churned and there was Bartholomew in the waves fighting for his life. A huge portion of the ship’s wreckage, a section of wood from some part of the ship, collided into him and he grabbed at it and held on, refusing to let the sea take him. Hanging from his arms were two canvas bags. Some of the treasure. He’d somehow saved it from the swirling water. Time spun by fast forward and in the morning there was no longer a ship nor any sailors alive...except Bartholomew Masterson. She saw him sprawled on a ledge of rocks along the shore and at his feet was that piece of the wreckage and the two canvas bags. There were other pieces of the destroyed ship scattered around him. There were bodies. Glinda watched as he woke and gathered the two bags to him and when he was strong enough he dragged himself up further onto the land and slept once more.

In her dream she followed the man as he searched the island. It wasn’t a very big island but there were small wild animals scurrying about in the underbrush and there was fish in the water. She could feel his desperation to find any more of his shipmates alive. He didn’t. He was alone. All the bodies he found were lifeless and he buried them the best he could in the sand or beneath layers of shrubbery and leaves because he had no tools, no way to dig their graves. Some he let the waves take back. There were too many to bury.

For a long time, it might have been years Glinda couldn’t be sure, Masterson lived on the island with his salvaged treasure and scavenged the land for food and built his own shelter. It was a hard lonely life and the living, the surviving, of it did something to him. Warped him in some strange way. He morphed into a human animal with a straggly beard and hair and wild eyes. Every once in a while he’d bring out the canvas bags, dump out their contents, and stare at the gems, jewelry and gold coins. He’d touch and caress them and watch them sparkle in the sun.

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