Free 7 Never Haunt a Historian by Edie Claire Page A

its way to the Pittsburgh area. But the man disappeared; and when an attempt was made to trace him, it was clear he hadn’t given his real name. It was all quite mysterious, but nothing ever came of it, and personally I dismissed the whole notion of the hat’s existence as wishful thinking. Now… I have to wonder.”
    Leigh bit her lip. She didn’t care for the way this discussion was headed. She didn’t care for it at all.
    “When Archie asked for my help in researching the man who had settled Frog Hill Farm, I was happy to oblige,” Harvey explained. “Archie has a deep and genuine interest in the Civil War, and he was practically giddy at having purchased the house of a legitimate war hero. I thought that’s all there was to it. But now that you mention a map…” his voice trailed off.
    After a moment’s thought, he gave his head a shake, then resumed. “It was all a very long time ago. I do recall now that amongst the various rumors about the hat, there was talk of this mystery man having a paper of some sort—some documentation proving that the general’s hat was indeed salvaged from the battlefield. But nobody I knew ever actually saw such a paper. And most of us figured that even if the man did have some sort of document, it was probably a hoax.”
    Harvey’s blue eyes glimmered. “I don’t recall Archie ever mentioning General Armistead’s hat to me, at least not specifically. And I have no evidence to give you that would link the man with that particular quest. It’s just… a possibility.”
    Leigh’s voice quavered. “Do you know if Archie was aware that a Civil War veteran had built this farm before he decided to buy it?”
    Harvey considered. “I never thought about it before. I always assumed that Archie’s interest came about after he moved in and heard the stories about Theodore Carr. But now that you mention it, it is possible that Archie bought the farm because of him.”
    The accidental idiom hung in the air between them.
    Leigh attempted to dismiss the macabre thought.
    She failed.

Chapter 7
    The doorbell rang. Leigh jumped a foot.
    Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and in a moment Emma Brown emerged from the hall door to the kitchen, sleeping infant in tow.
    “Hello, Leigh,” Emma said pleasantly as she glanced into the sitting room. “I thought I heard you up here. I would have popped up earlier, but the little peanut had other ideas!”
    Leigh smiled back. Emma was short and round, with soft light brown hair, merry brown eyes, and a deep voice that was as big as her heart. “No problem,” Leigh responded. “Looks like you’ve worked your usual magic.”
    Emma chuckled. The baby, who had an unruly mop of flaxen hair and was wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins onesie, was so limp Emma had to adjust her position to keep his head from lolling over her arm as she walked. “He ought to be tired,” she answered good naturedly, heading towards the front door. “As little sleep as he gets when the sun’s down!”
    Leigh heard the front door open.
    “Oh my, God!” a young woman’s voice rang out in a stage whisper. “What a beautiful sight! Emma, you are a miracle worker.”
    The door closed and the two women walked down the hall to join Leigh and Harvey in the sitting room.
    “Hi, Nora,” Leigh greeted cheerfully, attempting—perhaps unsuccessfully—to keep her expression from revealing just how ghastly the young mother looked. The ordinarily bright and perky Nora had dark circles under her eyes the size of plums. “I’m so sorry about what you’re going through with Cory,” Leigh said, rising. “I sympathize, believe me. Allison did the same thing for months.”
    “Did she?” Nora asked. “You’ll have to tell me all your tricks sometime. Derrick and I have lists we go through. Walking, not walking. Ride in the car. Time on the floor. Swaddling. Baby seat on the dryer. None of it works every time. It’s always just hit or miss.” She sighed deeply, then smiled