The Guests on South Battery by Karen White Page A

looked protectively at the doll. “I’m pretty sure this is a Thomas Edison doll—the first talking doll. There are only a handful left, and even fewer are intact, which makes them so valuable. Theyhave these little tin phonograph cylinders inside their torsos—all recorded more than one hundred years ago. They’re all nursery rhymes that are kind of hard to understand, and one in particular—‘Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep’—is a little scary because it sounds like a woman shouting under duress. For some reason they didn’t sell and they halted production after only a month.”
    â€œFor some reason?” I repeated. “I can’t imagine parents disliking their child enough to gift them with such a thing unless they were being punished for something serious like vandalism. Or murder.”
    â€œDoes this mean that it belongs to me now?” Jayne asked. She didn’t sound as excited as Sophie probably expected her to.
    â€œYes,” Sophie said brightly. “I’d have to take it to an antique doll expert who’s a friend of mine to verify, but I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.” She flipped it around to show an opening through a hole in the back of the doll’s white linen dress. “The cylinder is so delicate that if I tried to make the doll talk, it would break. There’s new technology that can digitally convert the sound from the cylinder so you can hear the original recording, which might be cool to hear.”
    Both Jayne and I were shaking our heads. “That won’t be necessary,” Jayne said. “Let’s let your expert friend assign a value so that I can sell it as quickly as possible.”
    â€œLet me talk with my friend first to see what our first course of action should be. We’ll leave it here for now, where it’s safe.” As Sophie was distracted replacing the doll in the rocking chair, I gave a thumbs-up at Jayne to let her know that at least on this subject, I was in full agreement.
    â€œI think I’ve seen enough,” Jayne said, turning toward the door.
    I followed closely behind her. “This is a huge decision, and something that involves a lot of thought. I want you to mull it over for a couple of days, and then we’ll talk.”
    She stopped and faced me. “I don’t like old houses, and seeing this hasn’t really changed my mind. I’m ready to list it as is.”
    I could feel Sophie’s gaze boring into the back of my head. “I know, and I understand your point of view. I really do. I just want you toconsider Button Pinckney. She entrusted this house to your care for whatever reason, but I’m sure she didn’t make her decision lightly. That’s something you need time to think about.”
    Her narrow shoulders sagged. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I can tell you I won’t change my mind.”
    We headed toward the stairway and once again I had the sensation of being pursued and another of being pulled back. I stared straight ahead, trying to see but still aware of the wall that was apparently interfering with—if not totally blocking—my sixth sense.
    Halfway down the stairs, I heard the sound again, something tinny and metallic, but this time it sounded more like words. Neither Jayne nor Sophie appeared to have heard it, so I kept heading toward the door, almost as eager as Jayne to close the door behind us.
    It wasn’t until I was relocking the key in the lockbox that I realized that the doll had spoken, but it wasn’t a nursery rhyme. It had been the unmistakable two words that I was unfortunately growing accustomed to.
Go away.

CHAPTER 6
    â€œA re you ready?” Jack asked as he opened the door to the nursery, where I’d been dressing the twins in preparation for our meeting with Jayne.
    â€œAlmost. If you can put on JJ’s shoes, that would be helpful. I’ve already put them on