They’d taken a room at The Ship, the only inn in town, which was surprisingly modern and comfortable. The rest of the rooms went to Rhys and his assistants, and the student volunteers, who had to share. Dunwich wasn’t exactly a hub of tourist activity, so the inn had a limited number of rooms. Quinn claimed the chair closest to the fire and cautiously moved her feet toward the flames. The warmth began to spread from the soles of her feet upward, making her sigh with pleasure. After a week of digging in the mud, the damp and chill had seeped into her bones, leaving her feeling cold even after a scalding hot bath, but part of the chill wasn’t entirely physical.

That first day, Quinn and Gabe walked over to the beach, drawn by the screaming of the seagulls and the strange history of the place. The beach was eerie and deserted, the sky low and threatening. The foaming waves rolled onto the beach with frightening frequency, the sea indifferent to the damage it’d done. Quinn looked out over the roiling sea, her eyes scanning the area where the old town would have been. She tried to picture Dunwich as it might have appeared in the early fourteenth century. Quinn imagined the bustle of activity as the townspeople went about their business, and the forest of ship masts visible from every part of town. She glanced toward where All Saints’ Church had once stood. There were still people alive today who could recall seeing it perched on the cliff before the tower finally collapsed into the sea in 1922, the cliff eroded by the pounding waves.

“Let’s go,” Quinn said to Gabe as she turned her back on the hungry sea. It frightened her, and she wanted to get as far away as possible from its fearsome power. They never went back to the beach, concentrating instead on the ancient grave and spending quiet evenings at the inn.

Quinn and Gabe worked on their own for two days, carefully unearthing the child’s remains until reinforcements arrived in the form of four upperclassmen. By that time, Rhys had received permission from the diocese to search the grounds, but was expressly forbidden from disturbing any existing graves or excavating hallowed ground, which was absolutely fine, since the burials Quinn was looking for would not lie within the perimeter of the cemetery.

Quinn continued working on the original grave while Gabe helped the students mark two new trenches, which would extend horizontally on either side of the open grave. If anyone was buried within ten feet of the child on either side, the volunteers would find them. They came upon the second skeleton on the third day, a whoop of excitement coming from the trench on the right. The other two students looked sour, having nothing to report but a broken beer bottle, several modern-day chunks of metal, and a plastic lighter.

“Quinn, you’ll want to see this,” Gabe called out as they carefully removed the top layer of earth, mindful of disturbing the remains. Quinn climbed out of the grave and went to take a look. Most of the skeleton was still lodged in the ground, but there was no mistaking the position. It’d been buried face down, with no sign of a coffin or any remnant of a shroud.

“This one is definitely an adult,” Gabe said as he took in the size of the skull and length of the spinal column. The legs were yet to be uncovered. Quinn nodded in agreement.

“Can we excavate this one ourselves, Dr. Allenby?” Tara Moore asked, eager to work independently. Of the four students, she was the most driven, and the most meticulous in her methods. Quinn liked her immensely, and was eager to encourage her in any way she could.

“Since you were the one to find it, you get to be in charge, Tara. Dr. Russell will observe and guide.”

“What about us?” John Myers demanded from the other trench.

“Give it one more day. If you don’t come up with anything by end of day tomorrow, you may join in. There’s enough work for everyone.”

John and his partner looked sour, but nodded in acquiescence before returning to work. Quinn hoped they wouldn’t find another grave; two prone burials were more than enough, but they had to be thorough, as did she. She labeled and bagged the bones then went back to carefully sifting through the disturbed earth in search of anything they might have missed. After nearly a whole day on her knees, trowel in hand, she found nothing. The body hadn’t been buried with any personal objects; there was nothing in the grave, not a scrap of leather or a piece of metal. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, thankful not to have to delve into the life of the buried child. She declared the grave finished with and was about to move on to the second grave when there was a cry of triumph from John Myers.

“Dr. Allenby, I found something.”

“Let’s have a look,” Quinn replied and walked over to John, who was cupping something in his hand. His partner craned his neck to get a better view of the find, his mouth drooping with envy.

John opened his hand to show Quinn what he’d found. In his palm lay a dirt-encrusted chain. It had a pendant of some sort, but it was so blackened by earth and time that it was impossible to tell what was depicted on it.

“Show me exactly where you found it,” Quinn requested, annoyed that John had removed it from its resting place. Where something was found was just as important as what was found. John pointed to a spot between the two graves. He was still clutching his find, reluctant to surrender it to Quinn, who had a plastic baggie at the ready.

“How deep was it?” Quinn asked, studying the disturbed earth.

“It was just here,” John replied, showing Quinn the little hollow where he’d found the necklace. “Do you think it belonged to one of them?”

Quinn shook her head. The necklace was discovered between the two graves and had been situated much higher than the skeletons, so chances were that it was buried at a later date. Or perhaps it hadn’t been buried at all. Someone might have simply dropped it years ago, and over time, layers of earth covered the trinket. It wasn’t a modern object, given its location, but it likely wasn’t as old as the graves.

Quinn held out the bag, and John reluctantly dropped the necklace into it. “Will I get credit for finding it?” he asked, making sure to face the camera as he uttered the words.

“Of course,” Quinn replied. “Although, I doubt it has anything to do with our skeletons. However, I will send it to the lab along with anything else we find at the site.” John looked pleased and gave a thumbs-up to the camera before returning to work. Quinn slipped the bag into her pocket and walked to the second grave, where Tara and Jade were hard at work. Rhys appeared at Quinn’s shoulder, eager to find out more about John’s find.

“What do you reckon? Is that necklace significant? Did you hold it in your hands?” he asked in a quieter voice.

“No, I didn’t. I don’t think it’s relevant, but I can’t be sure until it’s been analyzed. Have patience, Rhys.”

Rhys rewarded her with a guilty smile. “You can’t fault me for being curious. Knowing what I know…” He let the sentence trail, giving Quinn a meaningful look to remind her that he was in on her secret.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if there’s anything to tell,” Quinn replied. She had no desire to have this conversation in front of other people. Rhys took the hint and changed the subject.

“Could this have been a plague pit?” he asked as he handed Quinn a cup of tea. She accepted gratefully and stopped to consider while she took a sip of the scalding liquid that instantly warmed her. It was hard to tell how old the remains were just by looking, but they didn’t strike her as plague victims. The first wave of the plague swept through England in 1348, brought on trade ships from Europe by afflicted sailors and rats that contaminated the grain. The effect of the plague had been devastating, and townspeople all over England went from burying their dead properly to just dumping their bodies into mass graves and covering them with lye, but these graves did not fit that pattern. Quinn had never seen bodies buried face down. The plague victims, although not properly laid out or buried in coffins, were always buried face up and laid out side by side or atop the other bodies if there were too many. These two burials seemed deliberate and malicious.

“No, Rhys, I really don’t think these two were plague victims,” she said, confirming Rhys’s suspicions and making him a happy man. He didn’t want plague victims; he wanted foul play and a story he could dramatize to his heart’s content.

The second grave was much like the first. There was nothing. Whatever fabric might have gone into the earth with the body had completely rotted away, and there were no metal objects that had survived. Quinn dismissed the students, who were more than happy to be done with the gruesome task, and took one last look before giving the okay to fill in the grave. She was about to climb out when she noticed a tiny sliver of black peeking out of the soil. Quinn reached for a brush and swept aside bits of earth, not using the trowel for fear of damaging whatever was underneath. The object proved to be a cracked bit of leather. Quinn carefully dug around it until she unearthed a disintegrating thong decorated with an iron cross. The metal was brown and flaky with rust, but surprisingly still intact. It must have stayed protected from the moisture in the ground somehow, perhaps having gotten trapped in the folds of the shroud, if there had been one. Quinn carefully bagged the cross. This was her only link to the past, and she would study it carefully once she was on her own.

The remains were labeled and sent off to Dr. Colin Scott, pathologist and bone expert, who would hopefully have some preliminary results for them in a few days’ time. The students went about filling in the graves, setting the cemetery to rights, and writing up notes about the excavation. Rhys returned to London with his people, deeply satisfied with the footage and ready to start planning the next phase of the project. He even had Quinn conduct an in-depth interview with the elderly lady whose dog found a femur. She’d been terribly flustered at first, but then, having been seduced by the camera and the bright lights, went on and on, eager to tell her story.

Quinn tore her gaze away from the leaping flames in the hearth and reached for the plastic bag containing the cross. She’d meant to study it earlier, but something inside her protested loudly at the thought of gazing into the past of its owner. Gabe bent over Quinn, kissed the top of her head, and gently removed the bag from her hand. “Not now, love,” he said, sensing her apprehension. “Not now.”

Quinn had to admit that she was only too happy to set the trinket aside. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. The last case had left her feeling horrified and depressed. The brutal death of Elise, Lady Asher, and her lover James Coleman, which Quinn had witnessed firsthand, had been worse than anything she’d ever experienced, and she fervently wished, as she had many times in the past, that she wasn’t possessed of her strange gift of seeing into the past.

Gabe threw another log on the fire and took a seat, beckoning for Quinn to come and sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, making her feel a little less anxious, and moved his lips along the column of her neck. A pleasant shiver ran down Quinn’s spine, helping her to put the remains and the artifact from her mind. They would return home tomorrow morning, and her research would begin in earnest, but for tonight, she wanted nothing more than to spend a few peaceful hours with her gorgeous fiancé, and to forget all about the past.

Quinn leaned against Gabe as he slid his hands beneath her jersey, cupping her breasts. She eagerly surrendered to his touch, enjoying the sensations that began to course through her body as he pulled off her top and began to kiss her breasts. She felt Gabe’s arousal against her thigh and her body instantly responded to his desire.

“Come to bed,” Quinn murmured as she slid off Gabe’s lap and pulled him toward the antique four-poster.