Read Online Haunted Ground by Irina Shapiro - Free Book Online Page B

darkness. 
    I’d expected Aidan to pick me up in his truck, but he came driving up the lane in a slick red two-seater with the top down.  It was the perfect night for it, and I suddenly felt young and carefree as we whizzed down the twilit road toward the village.  I hadn’t been into the village since signing the contract at Paula’s office, so I looked around like a tourist, my head swiveling from side to side as we drove up the winding main street flanked by shops and restaurants.  I had to admit that I was thrilled by the picturesque charm of my new home.  I couldn’t wait to explore further on my own, especially since I was running dangerously low on supplies and needed to visit the grocery store. 
    Aidan pulled up in front of an ancient-looking pub and switched off the engine.  The ground floor was constructed of solid gray stone, crowned by a half-timbered upper story of white plaster intersected by dark wooden beams, proclaiming the pub to either be a Tudor original or a clever replica.  The diamond-paned windows glowed with warm light, and the heavy wooden door swung open periodically to either admit or disgorge patrons who all seemed to be in very good spirits.  The brightly painted sign swayed gently in the evening breeze and pronounced this fine establishment to be The Queen’s Head .  The sign depicted the crowned head of a rather unattractive woman with an axe buried in her blood-spurting neck.  I made a face and turned to Aidan.  “What a charming image.  Would this be any particular queen, or just a demonstration of the local attitude toward the Monarchy?”
    “That would be Anne Boleyn,” he explained.  “The people in these parts were staunch supporters of Katherine of Aragon, so when Anne Boleyn lost her head, it was cause for celebration, and as the sign attests, commemoration of the happy event.  The Brits love their monarchs,” he added in an undertone which made it clear that he didn’t necessarily share the sentiment being a Scot.
    “I see,” I murmured as Aidan took me by the elbow and steered me through the low doorway into the dimly lit dining room of the tavern.  It was exactly as I expected it to be.  The dark beams crisscrossed the low ceiling which made the interior close and intimate.  There was a bar area and a dining room with tables that were awfully close to each other.  I couldn’t help noticing that most patrons seemed to know each other, and people at neighboring tables participated in each other’s conversations as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  The pub was buzzing, people drinking at the bar and waiters weaving between tables with food-laden trays.  A few people gaped at us as we came in, but I assumed it was because they saw a new face in a place filled mostly with locals.  Well, I’d be a local soon enough, so I might as well try to fit in. 
    Aidan returned a few greetings and claps on the shoulder before steering me toward an unoccupied table in the corner and holding out a chair for me before taking a seat himself.  An older man passed by the table and stopped for a chat, eyeing me with undisguised curiosity.
    “Abe, this is Alexandra Maxwell, the new owner of the Hughes house,” Aidan said by way of introduction.  “Abe’s the owner of the pub.”
    “And a pleasure it is to meet you, Alexandra,” Abe said, his face split by a wide smile as he shook my hand.  “About time that place came back to life.  Welcome to the village.” 
    “Please, call me Lexi,” I asked, returning Abe’s smile.  “You too, Aidan.  Alexandra is so formal.”
    “I hope to see you here often, Lexi,” Abe said as he winked at me, “perhaps even with our Aidan.” 
    “Stop playing matchmaker, Abe.  It doesn’t suit you,” Aidan replied with a grin, suggesting this wasn’t the first time. 
    “Oh, you’d be surprised at how many people I’ve gotten together,” Abe said.  “I’m a regular Fairy Godmother of Upper