Deadly Night (23 page)

She headed for the tomb that held Fiona MacFarlane Flynn.

And then she saw, just steps away, a sarcophagus she had never paid much attention to before; the etching in the stone was old, and time and lichen had obscured it.

Heedless of her fingernails, she worked at the old writing until it was finally legible, though still difficult to read. The burial had taken place in 1887. The inscription read Henry LeBlanc, and below that, “Savior of this House.”

She hesitated, sitting on the grave. The wind picked up suddenly, but she wasn’t afraid. “Either I’ve lost my mind, or you’re haunting this house, this city, and you know there’s a man here killing people again,” she said softly. “You wanted everyone to know the truth back then—that’s why you finished Fiona’s diary—and you want us to know the truth now, too, don’t you? Well, we
do
know the truth now, Henry. We know there’s a man killing women, and we’ll catch him. I promise.”

She stood up, surprised that she didn’t feel the ease and relief she had expected. The air turned cold, as if warning her that nothing at all had been solved.

Then it hit her. A bone-chilling fear, like the fear she had felt in her dream. There was something bad here, something evil.

She spun around, as if convinced an evil entity was there at that very moment, watching her every move.

Waiting. Crouched and ready to spring.

“Kendall?”

She jumped and spun around. Aidan was walking toward her. The chill, and the feeling of being watched, faded away.

He was staring at her strangely, but she forced a smile, her heart still thundering.

“I wanted to find Henry’s grave, and I did,” she told him.

He nodded, reaching out to her.

She took his hand and asked, “Aidan, were you in here, digging up graves?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Looking for bones.”

“Aidan, it’s a graveyard. Of course there are bones.”

He looked at her and smiled as he brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Actually, I was looking for disturbed bones, or a suspicious lack of bones.”

“Oh.”

He paused, staring around the cemetery. She realized that she must have looked around exactly the same way before, as if sure there were something there, something that just couldn’t be found.

“Let’s go. Everybody wants to go get some lunch. Hungry?” he asked her.

“Sure.”

They walked away holding hands, but when she looked back, a cloud had darkened the sun, casting the graveyard in shadow.

And in that shadow, she could have sworn she saw Henry. But he wasn’t standing by his own grave, nor by Fiona’s. He was standing in front of the Flynn family tomb and pointing to the door.

Then the clouds shifted, and he was gone.

T
he rest of Sunday proved to be uneventful.

They all went to lunch at an old house that had been turned into a restaurant, and as Aidan sat there, feeling warm and comfortable, he thought how nice it would be if only he could trust his own house.

It was a ridiculous thought, and it had come to him unbidden. He dismissed it quickly and turned his mind back to the conversation. With Vinnie and Mason there, it was his chance to see a whole different side of Kendall.

“I still think it’s a shame Kendall didn’t stick to her original plan,” Vinnie said.

“Plan?” Aidan asked her.

She flushed slightly. “I wanted to found a local theater. A place for adults and kids to take classes and perform, where new plays and new actors could all get a chance together, and people could learn stagecraft, set design…” She shrugged. “I never really fleshed it out.”

“It was still a great dream,” Vinnie said.

She shrugged. “We needed a venue. I had lots of friends who would have worked for nothing to get it off the ground, but the rents everywhere were astronomical. So…when the shop came up, I figured I could make it work. End of story.”

“Maybe not,” Jeremy said. “Maybe you could supervise the decorations and activities for the Halloween bash.”

“I’d love to do it,” she said. “And I can do great things with no budget, so you can put all the money you make into Children’s House.”

“Great. That’s settled, then,” Jeremy said.

“I can tell you one good way to get people excited,” she said. “Hire some of the mule carriages from the city. I have friends who will do it for practically nothing, given the publicity they’ll get. People can park in that open area to the left of the house, then take a carriage ride back to the stables. I know some good catering places that will be happy to handle the food for cost. And I’m assuming you’ll let someone do tours of the main house. People would pay extra for that, you know.”

They were all staring at her blankly.

“Wow. Good thing she’s on the team,” Zach said.

She smiled. “I’m just happy to help. Amelia would have loved it.”

It should be fun, she thought.
Would
be fun. Except…

Except that the house was haunted. She was sure of it.

She didn’t understand why she still felt so spooked. They had found out the truth about the Civil War Flynns, and soon the record would be corrected and everyone would know that the cousins hadn’t killed each other out of malice or because of some romantic rivalry. Surely that would please the ghosts, right? But Henry was afraid of something in the present, not the past. He’d pointed to the family tomb and looked at her as if she should understand what he was getting at.

A chill swept up her spine, even as she sat there smiling at the others.

Okay, so Henry was out to help her.

Then what the hell did the dreams mean?

And why had her feet been dirty?

She refused to think about it and ruin the day.

That night, as soon as she fell asleep, Kendall found herself in the cemetery again. Henry was standing by the family tomb again, and though he was speaking this time, she couldn’t understand him. Suddenly a look of horror crossed his worn features, and he pointed behind her.

She could feel cold breath on her neck. Someone coming after her.

She struggled to wake up, and this time, she managed it, and without screaming out or awakening Aidan. He was asleep at her side, the rise and fall of his chest even and rhythmic. She curled closer to him and hoped that she would fall asleep again, this time without being plagued by dreams.

She lay awake for a while, wondering what to do. Should she tell Aidan that Henry’s ghost was trying to keep watch at the Hideaway, and that he also seemed to be warning her about a killer in the cemetery? Aidan was already digging up the cemetery, anyway. What would he do if she flat-out told him that ghosts were speaking to her?

Ruby Beaudreaux was at reception when Aidan stopped by the medical examiner’s office to pick up the bones and other potential evidence. Abel had been pleasant about the idea of him coming by to pick everything up, but he was suspicious that trouble might still be in the offing.

“I’ll go tell Dr. Abel that you’re here,” she told him.

As he waited in the outer room, he was startled when Rebecca came out.

“Rebecca, hi, how are you?”

“In a mess this morning, I’m afraid.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Besides a hit-and-run on Rampart and a dead woman in a house waiting to be demolished?” she asked wearily. “Abel is on the warpath. Someone snuck in here last night and went through our bones.”

“Your bones?”

“We have drawers of them, actually. We use them for comparisons, showing juries at trial…all kinds of things. Anyway, things back there are a mess, bones everywhere, nothing labeled. I have to get back in there before I wind up in trouble—I’m on skull collection. Call me later if you think I can help you.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” he told her.

Had someone broken in just to steal the bones he had discovered? Or had the break-in occurred for some other reason entirely? His money was on the former.

Jon Abel, his hair once again in a state of disarray from his fingers continually running through it, made his appearance just seconds after Rebecca left. “I’m sorry, Flynn, but it’s going to take me some time to find your bones or even figure out if I still have them.”

“Was there evidence tampering of any other kind?” Aidan asked.

“Oh, yeah. Mrs. Eames was switched with Mr. Nelson down in the morgue, some of the desks were rifled, and bullets taken from six victims found in the last twelve months have disappeared.” Abel stared at him, shaking his head. “Flynn, trust me, this has nothing to do with your case. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back in and go back to assessing the damage.”

“Hang on. Even if the bones are gone, what about the blood scraping and the dress? I’d still like to get them up to Washington.”

Abel stiffened irritably. “All right. Wait.”

He returned with a brown bag and a small box. “Your blood is on a slide in the box, and the dress is just as you gave it to me. Is that all?”

“Yeah, thanks. Hope you get everything straightened out soon.”

Aidan left the coroner’s office and headed straight out to the police station to see Hal Vincent, who wasn’t at his desk. Aidan decided to wait.

An hour later, Hal came in. When he saw Aidan, he held back a groan, then told him to follow him on back to his office. Hal took his chair and watched Aidan through weary eyes. “You want to know about the break-in at the morgue, I take it?”

Aidan nodded.

“All right. Someone dismantled the alarm—which anybody with a decent knowledge of wiring could do, because it’s a pretty basic model.”

“Did the security cameras catch anything?”

“Shadows. We’re trying to enhance the images now, but so far, it looks like two people walked up to the rear door at two different times.”

“Could it be a college prank? Abel said a couple of bodies were switched.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“In my opinion? It was made to
look
like a prank to camouflage what was really going on. My guess is it’s tied to the missing ballistic evidence and someone’s trying to keep one of those cases from going to trial. That’s all I know right now, Flynn. If I get anything else, I’ll let you know.”

“One more thing. Did you bring the FBI in on this?”

“We were the ones who went over the place, dusting for fingerprints, looking for evidence. But I informed the FBI, yes.”

“Thanks.” Aidan left the cop then and headed straight for Jonas’s office. Jonas wasn’t in, so again he waited.

When Jonas arrived, he, too, seemed to hold back a groan. “Aidan, I’m sorry you didn’t get your bones back. Bad timing.”

“I want to know what you think about the break-in.”

“Not too much. It’s a local matter.”

Aidan nodded. “I’d like to use your mailing facilities. I still have a blood sample and a dress I’d like analyzed.” He didn’t mention that he had tucked the hairbrush in the box, too.

“And what are you going to compare them to?” Jonas asked.

“I’d like to know if the dried blood goes with Jenny Trent, the woman who wore the dress.”

“You’re talking a long time, Aidan. I doubt if they can get anything.”

“That’s okay. I have a friend at Quantico who won’t mind trying.”

“I’ll take you down to the mail room myself,” Jonas told him.

After the package was duly sent off overnight to Aidan’s friend, Robert Birch, Jonas led the way back to his office. He seemed in no hurry to get rid of Aidan. “So you’re seeing the Montgomery girl, huh?” he asked.

Aidan nodded.

“She’s a pretty girl. Mysterious.”

“Mysterious?”

“Claims she can read the future, doesn’t she? I’d call that mysterious.”

“Do you believe in any of that?” Aidan asked him.

“Do you?”

“How’s Matty?” Aidan asked, changing the subject. “She’s worried about you. Worried about the two of you.”

Jonas flushed. “That’s none of your business, Aidan.”

“No, it’s not, but if you want out of your marriage, you ought to just tell her.”

“I said it’s none of your business.”

“Yeah, well, we used to be friends.”

Jonas looked up at him. “We still are, aren’t we?”

“Talk to your wife, Jonas,” Aidan said. He turned to leave, then swung back and asked, “Where’s Jenny Trent’s car?”

“I don’t know, it’s been a long time. Still in impound, maybe.”

“Find out, would you? I’d like to take another look at it, and I’m tired of waiting for Hal Vincent’s men to get to it.”

Monday morning was busy at the shop, but Vinnie came in to help, which made everything easier. Kendall had a friend at the paper, Jean Avery, and she called her, telling her about the diary she had found in the attic, and the new twist in the sad legend of Flynn Plantation. Jean promised to run a small piece the next day, and a larger human interest story on the weekend.

“Think you can get me the okay to go out there and take a few pictures?” Jean asked. “I’ve heard about the Halloween party, and this could get them some good PR for it, though I gather it’s almost sold out already.”

“A haunted plantation for Halloween. What could be better?” Kendall asked, and it was true. A lot of people who didn’t attend might send in checks anyway. You couldn’t give to a cause you knew nothing about.

“I’m sure I can arrange a photo op.”

Vinnie was passing by just then and elbowed her, giving her a meaningful look.

“The Stakes are going to be playing that night,” Kendall added. “Maybe we could get them together ahead of time to pose by the old barn or something.” She was sure Vinnie genuinely cared about the charity, but she was equally sure his biggest interest was in getting publicity for the Stakes.

“Sounds fun. I’ll get back to you.” Jean paused and cleared her throat, then said, “I hear you’ve been seeing one of the new owners. Just can’t get that plantation out of your blood, huh?”

Kendall was left speechless for a moment. She forced a light tone when she replied. “I guess that’s it. Thanks, Jean, we’ll talk soon.”

She hung up. “Why does everyone think I was expecting to get that plantation?” she asked Vinnie with aggravation.

“Gee, let’s see. You were everything to Amelia, you took care of her, and no one knew any heirs existed. How’s that?” Vinnie suggested.

“Look, there’s a customer, Vinnie. Go help her.”

Behind the counter, Kendall took out the sketchbook she’d been filling with designs for the decorations. She’d started out with a basic sketch of the interior of the barn, then added in the stage and even made notes about wiring, then begun to plan what decorations would go where. At around five-thirty, the phone rang, and she picked it up absently.

“Kendall, it’s Joe Ballentine. Sheila’s boss. At the Society, you know.”

“Hi, Joe,” Kendall said, her heart sinking. All day she’d hoped to hear from Sheila, too afraid to make the call herself. If Joe was calling, it couldn’t be good.

“I’m just wondering if you’ve heard from Sheila. She didn’t come back to work this morning, and she’s not answering her phone. She might have taken a few more days or been delayed, but I have to admit I’m worried.”

Kendall felt as if someone had just tied a rock around her heart and dropped it.

She suddenly knew that no one would ever hear from Sheila again.

“Kendall?”

“I haven’t heard from her, Joe, but I have the key to her house. I’ll run out there and see if maybe she did get home and is just sleeping through the phone.”

She hung up, set her sketchbook under the counter and brought out her handbag. “Vinnie, Mason, close up for me?”

“Where are you going?” Mason asked.

“Home to get my car, then out to Sheila’s.”

“I can run to Sheila’s if you want,” Mason offered.

“Just lock up for me.”

It was close to six, Kendall realized, as she hurried out the door.

The minute it closed behind her, she felt…eyes on her.

She tried to tell herself that she was being silly, that no one was watching her. She tried even harder to convince herself that Sheila wasn’t dead.

But she was. Sheila was dead, just like Jenny Trent and, if Aidan was right, at least nine others.

A fall evening, almost six, growing dark. There were people still on the streets, and plenty of businesses were still open or just closing up.

But among all those people, someone was watching her. She knew it.

Kendall started to run. She made it to her house and down the alley where she parked her car. She looked around as she opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat.
No one.
She slammed the door and locked it, looking around again. There was still no one near her. She revved the engine and eased out onto the street, convinced all the while that someone was watching what she was doing.

Jeremy had come to stay out at the plantation, on call with the workmen, that day, while Zach had stayed in the city to take advantage of the high-speed Internet connection while he chased down more leads via his computer. Aidan had asked him to look at everyone who had entered their sphere of friends and acquaintances since they had returned, because he was beginning to think that the voodoo dolls had not been a prank, but a warning, though he had no guarantee that whoever was sending the message was someone they knew personally.