Darkest Journey (26 page)

Charlie smiled. “Thank you.”

“But I regret to tell you, he is somehow involved in this,” Captain Derue said gravely.

Charlie froze. No. She didn't care who tried to tell her that her father was involved, they were wrong. She knew him. He was not a murderer.

“He didn't kill anyone,” she said at last, her voice brittle.

“No, he is no killer. But he was here on the
Journey
, and they were talking about him...the soon-to-be-dead men, Corley and Hickory. They were trying to figure something out. They kept saying, ‘Jonathan will know.' They planned to meet with him and ask for his help.”

“Do you think he's even aware of what he knows?” Charlie asked. “Of how dangerous it seems to be?”

“That I don't know. But he needs to be careful. Others were nearby when the two men were speaking and might have overheard. Later your father talked with Albion Corley up on the Sun Deck, and not long afterward the small blonde woman showed up and had an argument with Professor Corley. There were others from the reenactment nearby, as well.”

“Who? Do you know who?” she asked urgently.

He shook his head. “I know your father because he is always on the ship. I knew Mr. Hickory and Mr. Corley because I was there when they argued, and your father spoke their names when he stepped in. I don't know the names of any of the others. One couple talked about taking care of their children. Does that help you identify them?”

“So they were a couple in real life?” Charlie asked, then winced inwardly at the insensitivity of the term.

He nodded. “She was about five-and-a-half feet and blonde, and her husband was over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds.”

She gasped. He'd just described Nancy and Todd Camp.

Charlie reached out—she still hadn't gotten the hang of
not
doing so—and her hand passed through the tenuous image of his, and yet she was certain that he'd felt the warmth and appreciation in her touch.

“Thank you. I need to talk to my father. If he hasn't realized what he knows, maybe I can help him figure it out.”

“Be careful. I fear for him, just as I fear for you.”

She smiled. “I'm safe. I have three government agents looking after me—and I think I have you and the others, as well.”

He nodded gravely.

“I wish there was a way to thank you,” she said.

He smiled. “Sing ‘Lorelei,'” he told her. “And that duet mixing ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home' with ‘Dixie.' Please. For all the friends I lost, North and South. For those, like me, who died of disease, praying for the war to end.”

He stood, ready to leave her.

She stood as well, and said, “Thank you, Captain.”

She didn't need to open the door again. He simply dissipated into the air.

Charlie sank down on the bed, suddenly weak. She glanced at her watch, anxious now for the excursion in Natchez to be over and for her father to return to the ship.

She desperately needed to talk to him.

Alone.

14

A
s they boarded the ship, Ethan called Jude to tell him they were back. Jude assured him that everything was fine. Charlie was in her cabin next door to his, and he'd called to check on her not five minutes ago. He was about to go get her, then walk her, Alexi and Clara to the dining room.

Ethan briefed Jude on what they had learned and told him that he would wait on deck for Jonathan Moreau to return.

He'd been waiting for what felt like hours when the tour buses finally began to pull up by the dock. In a few minutes he saw Jonathan Moreau—followed by a string of what he could only call fans—approach the ship.

Ethan had to give the man credit; he never seemed to notice the admiration in the eyes of his listeners, nor did he pay any extra attention when an attractive woman was especially in awe. His excitement was all for the history he passed on.

As he reached the deck, Jonathan noticed Ethan—and Ethan's expression. He excused himself to the group and approached Ethan.

“What now?” Jonathan asked flatly.

“You tell me. What are you still not telling us?” Ethan said.

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan demanded. “If I knew anything—especially since I know my name keeps coming up in your investigation—wouldn't I tell you? Good people have been killed. If I could help in any way, don't you think I would?”

“I'd like to believe that, yes.”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Doggone It,” Ethan said.

Jonathan stared at him, then shook his head. “What about it? It's an organization promoting no-kill shelters. I send them a check for twenty dollars every month. How did I hear about it? At my Masonic lodge. A number of my lodge brothers are into saving animals. People who like to save animals don't usually kill humans—who are animals, too, after all.”

“I was at their headquarters this morning,” Ethan said.

“I hope you left a healthy check.”

“I spoke with Mr. Hayworth.”

Jonathan continued to stare at him, but Ethan simply waited patiently for him to crack and say something.

“I don't know the name,” Jonathan said. “I've never actually visited the place.”

“All right. How about Sane Energy?”

Jonathan frowned. “I help them out from time to time, yes.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to get people to talk to one another.”

“Were Hickory and Corley some of the people who need to talk?”

“I don't know. Maybe. There's a company called Gideon Oil.
Sane Energy has been reaching out to them, hoping to discuss a potential win-win solution. There are several engineers in my lodge who say there's a safer, albeit more expensive, way to lay oil lines along the river from the Gulf of Mexico. There was talk about arranging a sit-down between members of Sane Energy and the management of Gideon Oil.”

“Why didn't you mention this?”

“Because it didn't occur to me to mention it! Sane Energy has hundreds of members, and I don't even know anyone at Gideon Oil. I assumed they had someone with better connections setting it up.”

“Hickory and Corley were passionate about Sane Energy's cause, and word is they intended to use you as a negotiator.” He was guessing, of course. But, if he sounded definite enough, he might be able to draw out the truth.

“If they were, I knew nothing about it. But you can easily find out tomorrow. The head office of Sane Energy is in Vicksburg. Use your badge to make people there talk to you. Ask
them
what
they
know. If Hickory and Corley wanted to involve me, maybe they told the top people at Sane Energy. They certainly didn't tell
me
.”

“How could you not know if your friends had plans for you?”

“I'm passionate about one thing, Ethan. History. Other than that, I help out my friends when they ask. But I swear to you, no one had asked me about this. So, yes, I lied at first. I lied to you. And, God help me, I lied to my daughter. But I did it to protect a confidence. Now you know the truth, and the truth is that both murdered men were my friends, and I would do anything possible to help find their killer. If it has something to do with Gideon Oil, that's news to me. So go to Sane Energy tomorrow and—”

He broke off, looking at Ethan and shaking his head. “You already planned on going to Sane Energy tomorrow, didn't you?”

“Yes, I did. We did.”

Jonathan stared at him. “Then excuse me. I'd like to shower and change and go hear my daughter sing.”

As Jonathan walked away Ethan glanced at his watch. The second dinner seating was due to begin shortly.

He headed to the Eagle View.

* * *

She waited until the second seating, but then, as she had promised, Charlie saw to it that they sang both songs Captain Ellsworth Derue had requested. And, as she expected, she looked out over the dining room and saw them all—the ghosts of the soldiers who had died so long ago—filling the room. They were like double-exposed film, moving silently among the diners who still lived and breathed.

She caught Alexi looking at her, and they exchanged a smile. She realized Alexi understood how much this moment spent singing just for the shades of the dead meant to her. She wasn't sure if happiness was something the dead could still feel, but she had to believe they could, because based on the sense of peace she felt in that moment, she and her friends had indeed made these men happy.

She saw Ethan in the audience, too, sitting with Jude and Thor. He looked grave, and something in her heart sank.

She saw her father, as well. He was sitting by himself, and he smiled at her each time he caught her looking his way.

But when he didn't notice her watching him, he looked irritated, even upset.

At length, the evening came to an end. Her father came up to kiss her and congratulate them all. He was quick to leave, though, which disturbed Charlie—especially since she still needed to talk to him alone.

She left the dining room with Ethan and the others, pausing to look back at Ellsworth Derue. He saluted her with a nod, as if promising that he would be there for her if and when she needed him.

It was late, so they all said good-night and headed for their cabins.

Ethan seemed preoccupied as they got ready for bed. He didn't ask her about the ship's long-dead doctor, though she was sure he must have seen Derue and all the rest of the ghosts.

She didn't say anything, not that she wanted to lie, but because she wanted to talk to her father first. Instead she asked him about the animal shelter.

“Thor's going to get a new husky.”

“Well, he
is
an Alaskan, and I think Clara told me they already have one husky, his dog that he brought with him when he moved down to Krewe headquarters,” she said. “What else?”

He looked at her. “The head of Doggone It, Mr. Hayworth, told me that both Corley and Hickory were passionate about something going on at Sane Energy. Apparently the two of them were talking about a man they planned to ask to set up a meeting with one of the oil companies for them.”

“Who?”

“Your father.”

She had no idea what to say, so all she could manage was “Oh...”

“I talked to him. He said he knew there was talk about setting up some kind of meeting, but no one had approached him yet. He said he didn't even know that Albion and Farrell would be the two men doing the talking.”

“I'm sure he's telling the truth.” When he didn't respond, she let out a sigh and sank down on the bed. “So I have something to share,” she said.

“What's that?” he asked as he shrugged out of his jacket, took his holster and gun from his waistband and set them by the bed.

“The doctor paid me a visit today,” she said softly.

“The ship's doctor?” he asked.

“Yes. His name is Captain Ellsworth Derue,” she said. “He thought both Farrell and Albion were good men, and he adores my father. He saw people talking and arguing with Corley. Saw them, Ethan. And he actually heard Albion and Farrell talking about a ‘situation' and saying they wanted to talk to my father.”

“I see.”

“No, you don't see. They died before they could talk to him. Dammit, Ethan, my father is not a murderer!”

“No, I don't believe he is. But he
has
held back important information.”

“What did he hold back that would have changed anything? Yes, Farrell Hickory was going to marry Shelley Corley, and he kept that confidence, but it doesn't matter. No one involved in the investigation believes that it was a hate crime.”

“That's true, but the way an investigation works, you often have to find out what things weren't before you can find out what they were. If your father had just been open about what he knew—”

“Your friend Laurent might have arrested him!” Charlie snapped.

“Charlie, I don't want to fight about your father.”

“Then quit acting as if he's a criminal.”

He let out an explosive sound, finished taking off his shirt and walked over to check the door and turn out the lights. She didn't move. When he slid into the bed to join her, she said, “My father is not a criminal.”

“Charlie, I'm not treating him like a criminal. I'm just trying to find out everything he knows.”

She fell silent, and for a few minutes, neither of them moved, neither of them spoke.

Then she scooted toward him and curled up on his chest and said, “Want to hear something great my father taught me when I asked him why he and my mom never seemed to fight? Might be clichéd, and I'm sure you've heard similar, but it's all so true!”

“What?” he asked her.

“My dad told me that he and my mom never went to bed angry.”

“He can be a very sage man,” Ethan said.

And then he took her into his arms. For a while, the world was sensation, the scent and feel of him, the wonder of making love—with someone you truly loved.

But then she lay in the darkness again. Even held by him, even close...she was worried. And she knew the worry would stay with her—until they discovered the truth.

* * *

“Vicksburg, Mississippi,” Jonathan said. “All of you heading to the National Military Park with me, let's talk about Vicksburg. ‘Vicksburg is the key.' Who knows who said that?” he asked the group.

“President Lincoln?” a teen asked.

“Bingo! And do you know what President Jefferson Davis of the Confederacy had to say?” Jonathan asked.

“Something like ‘up yours'?” another teen asked.

“He might have thought it,” Jonathan said, smiling, “but what Davis actually said was, ‘Vicksburg is the nail head that holds the South's two halves together.' So you can see that, for both presidents, the Vicksburg campaign was one of the most important in the war. The siege of Vicksburg lasted from May 18th to July the 4th of 1863. It was the last major stronghold of the Confederacy on the Mississippi River. Of course, something else was going on at the same time. Anyone know what else happened from July 1st through the 3rd in 1863?”

“Gettysburg!” several people called out simultaneously.

“Exactly. So, the Fourth of July—Independence Day—proved to be a pretty good day for President Lincoln, wouldn't you say?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Jonathan went on to talk about logistics and how the campaign was part of the “Anaconda” plan to put a stranglehold on the Confederacy.

Ethan stood with Jude and watched until Jonathan, leading scores of passengers, headed off to board the buses that would take them to the National Military Park.

Thor was staying on the boat with the Belles, leaving Jude to accompany Ethan today. “You want to drive?” Jude asked now.

“Don't care—we both know the way around here,” Ethan said.

“I'll drive. You seem pissed off, not a great mood for getting behind the wheel.”

In the car, Jude said, “I just don't believe Jonathan Moreau is guilty.”

“I don't believe it, either,” Ethan said. “I know the man, and he isn't a killer. What I don't understand is why he hasn't been more forthcoming. He knew about Shelley. He knew at least something of what Corley and Hickory were up to. Selma Rodriguez was almost certainly killed because of something she knew—and she knew Corley was going to see Jonathan.”

“Careful. It sounds like you're laying her death at Jonathan's feet,” Jude said shrewdly.

“I'm not. I believe the killer thought she knew more than that Corley was going to meet with Jonathan. That's not a reason to kill. There has to be more. Perhaps the killer thought Selma knew
why
Corley wanted the meeting.”

“Let's hope we can find out,” Jude said.

The Sane Energy office was small, nothing like the sprawling property belonging to Doggone It. Of course, they didn't need that much space, either. They saw a man seated at a desk when they entered. He quickly rose, sized them up and smiled. “Hello, welcome,” he said with a definite Mississippi accent, deep and rich and rolling. “I assume you're Special Agents Delaney and McCoy? I received a call from your office yesterday, so I made a point of being here today. I'm Frank Lorenzo, president, though I'm not sure how much the title means. We're an all-volunteer organization, and I'm usually at work at this time. But under the circumstances, I'm happy to miss a day of work. How can I help you?”

“We'd like to understand what was going on, what Mr. Corley and Mr. Hickory were so upset about,” Ethan said.

“Gideon Oil,” Lorenzo said flatly and firmly. “They're laying an oil pipeline along the Mississippi. The states are in on it—Louisiana and Mississippi, that is. They've given their approval. But we've had engineers create models that show that there's an alternative, a safer alternative. The hitch is, our alternative plan is more expensive, so their shareholders won't make their fortune as quickly as they were promised. Here, let me show you.”