Chapter 9
On the way out of the tunnel, Abigail was in front. Both women hurried as fast as they quietly could. When they reached the end of it and stepped out of the opening into daylight, Miss Georgia breathed a sigh of relief. Abigail pulled sideways on the panel and it slid shut.
She pointed toward the bedroom door. “Come on to the kitchen,” she said. “We need to think about this. I’m just dumbfounded.”
On the way out of the bedroom, Miss Georgia scooped up Elmira who evidently felt brave enough to return to her basket.
Once back in Abigail’s sunny kitchen, with yet more coffee in front of them, they stared at each other. Miss Georgia stroked Elmira’s back and was rewarded with her gentle purring.
Finally, Abigail spoke. “Well, what do you make of that, Georgia? I feel like I’m in a dream and none of this is real.”
Drawing a deep breath, Miss Georgia nodded. “Same here, but, it’s real Abigail. I’m thinking your neighbor is the source of your night noises.”
Abigail shook her head. “But, why on earth would she want to scare me? I wonder if she’s the one who took my hair brush and my pin and my hair piece? Why would she do that? And, how did a tunnel get to be here anyway? That’s all so unbelievable.”
“You know, Abby, you said your house and a few others are quite old. Maybe that tunnel was dug when it was built or maybe it was used during the Civil War. I’ve read about such things. My eighth graders had a history unit about tunnels that were used to smuggle goods or that people used to hide in when enemy soldiers came.”
“Maybe that explains why it’s here,” Abigail said, “but not why my neighbor would be using it. Why would she want to frighten me or take my things? Maybe she’s a klepto—klepto—“
“Kleptomaniac,” Georgia finished for her. “I think we’ll just have to ask her. I doubt that she’d tell us straight out, so we’ll set a trap. Tonight, we’ll know whether your noisy ghost is Miss Dodson or someone else.
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