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Finn smirked slightly. "A detective's dream, right? I would have loved something like this as a kid. The most I had was a small shelf with a few books from the library or church group. It's like it's grown overnight," Finn said, half-jokingly. "Feels much bigger now than when I found it."
Amelia took a moment to walk alongside one of the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing against the book spines. She picked out a weathered-looking tome, opening it to reveal its brittle pages. "This is incredible, Finn. Think of the history here. The stories these books could tell."
Finn nodded, remembering why they were here. "Yeah, and hopefully, they can tell us a story about our killer or at least about this island's folklore." He motioned towards a section filled with older, bound books. "I figured we might start with the local history or legends."
Amelia looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. Split up?"
He smirked, "Divide and conquer?"
She gave a small smile, "Exactly."
As Finn delved into the books, he couldn't help but feel the unspoken history of the library around him. There was an immense sense of history, of countless hours spent in thought and reflection. Every so often, he would glance up to see Amelia engrossed in another volume, her red hair catching the setting sun's rays, making it glow. It was moments like this that he found himself getting lost in thought, wondering about the complexities of their relationship.
Shaking himself from his reverie, Finn focused on the task at hand. He knew they were on borrowed time, and every clue they could glean from this room could be pivotal. Somewhere within these walls, the past might hold the key to their present.
As the dimming October sun cast long shadows across the library's interior, Finn couldn't help but be drawn to the ancient texts that lay on the wooden tables and cluttered the ornate shelves. Picking up an old cookbook that was titled “Old Recipes of the Islands”, he browsed through it, his brow furrowing in mock disgust.
"Hey, Winters," he began with a teasing glint in his eye, "looks like I've found a recipe for haggis from the 1700s. Ever had the pleasure?"
Amelia looked up, her face animated with genuine enthusiasm. "I love haggis! My aunt used to cook it for me all the time when I spent time in Scotland."
Finn continued reading aloud, his face contorting in mock horror. "Cooked in a sheep's stomach? You're all nuts."
Amelia, never one to back down from a challenge, retorted with a wicked smile, "The food of Scotland is hardy, made for a hardy people. Not everyone can stomach it. Especially if you're used to the easy life in Sunny Florida."
Feigning offense, Finn shot back, "Are you challenging me to a haggis eating competition? Because I will destroy you if that's the case. I'll eat so much haggis, they'll have to make me king of Scotland. Maybe Britain, who knows, it could go further than that, we'll just have to see."
Amelia's laugh echoed throughout the library, a joyful sound amid the stillness of the room. "You? A king? I'm not sure there'd be a crown big enough for that head of yours.”
As the two continued their playful banter, Finn's eye landed on another book, this one appearing much more relevant to their current situation. "Traditions and Tales from Huldra Island," he read aloud, curiosity evident in his voice. "Now this... this could be interesting."
The library was filled with the soft rustling of pages turning and the hushed voices of Amelia and Finn. The dimming sunlight painted the room in hues of gold and amber. As Finn thumbed through the book, a particular chapter heading made him pause.
"The Wraith of Huldra House," he murmured, eyes narrowing.
Amelia, having overheard, tilted her head in thought. "Isn't it supposed to be the Wraith of Huldra Island? That's the story we've been told so far."
Finn, engrossed in the text, shook his head. "Not according to this old legend," he began, voice taking on the cadence of a storyteller. "It says here that the hidden folk of the island owed a debt to the founders of Huldra House and their descendants. An ancestor of the Ferguson line apparently stumbled upon an entrance to the hidden folk's realm but vowed to keep it a secret, building the house itself over that entrance. To repay this act of trust, the hidden folk pledged that if Huldra House was ever desecrated, they would unleash their most fearsome wraith to exact revenge upon the transgressors, to protect their human allies and their secret."
He glanced up from the pages, eyes meeting Amelia's. "Seems like a different spin on the familiar tale, doesn't it?"
Amelia bit her lower lip in contemplation. "What if you're onto something? What if our killer believes in this variation of the legend? Maybe they see themselves as this wraith, punishing those who've wronged Huldra House in some way."
With the ambient lighting in the library turning into dusky shades, Finn's attention was still completely absorbed by the book. "Listen to this," he began, his voice a mix of intrigue and excitement, "As a part of the accord struck between the hidden folk and the Ferguson lineage, certain individuals from the island were designated 'watchers'. To facilitate this, five homes were erected on the Siren Ridge. These watchers had the responsibility to surveil Huldra House, especially during the periods when its lord or lady was not present."
Amelia, her curiosity piqued, rose from her chair and made her way to the massive windows of the library. Drawing back the heavy drapes, her eyes swept across the landscape, stopping at a distinct feature. "Finn," she exclaimed, her voice carrying a note of astonishment, "I can see a line of houses in the distance, right on that hillside. They look a little worn down by time, but they're there."
Finn joined her, taking in the sight. They stood side by side, both sets of eyes focused on the distant houses. "Those must be the watcher's residences," he said, the revelation spinning in his mind.
He looked at Amelia, his gaze intense. "I know how outlandish it might sound," he began, his voice measured, "but is it possible that someone, or some family living there, took this legend seriously? That they considered it their solemn duty to safeguard the house and took it upon themselves to avenge any perceived harm done to it?"
Amelia rubbed her temples, as if trying to process the new theory. "At this point," she mused, "we don't really have any concrete leads explaining why both our victims were targeted. This legend, as far-fetched as it sounds, could be our only tangible lead. A shot in the dark is still a shot."
Finn nodded in agreement. "Then it's settled. We should pay a visit to those houses before night comes, it looks like there's a storm coming again. We'll need to be quick. Let's see if this legend has any bearing on our case."
Amelia gave him a resolute nod, her determination evident. With their path decided, the two detectives made their way out of the library, drawn to Siren Ridge and the mysteries it might hold.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
