Authors: Heather Graham
“Yeah. Tough to find anything out, I imagine,” Barry sympathized. “Do you have a deadline or anything?”
“No. I’m here until I find out something,” Caleb said.
“Until you find…a body?” Renee asked tremulously.
“Until I have something to tell her parents.”
“So,” Barry said, “how do you handle money in your line of work? Do you get expenses and all that?”
“Barry!” Caroline said, horrified. “That’s like…asking him his age or something.”
Caleb laughed. “No, it’s all right. I do what the boss man tells me to do, and the finances are his concern.”
“Do you make a good living?” someone asked over his shoulder.
He turned. Will had shown up. Caroline jumped out of her seat to greet him with a hug.
Will was smiling. “Sorry,” he said, grinning at he sat. “Since it seems like we’re giving you the third degree, I figured that was the next logical question.”
“I make out all right,” Caleb assured him. “How’s the dive business going?”
Will made a face. “I spent my day in the muddiest piece of the St. Johns known to man.”
“Still looking for Winona Hart?” Caleb asked.
“Yep, and why anyone thinks she wound up in the St. Johns, I don’t know. Anyway, we didn’t find squat.”
“No one told you why you were looking there?” Caleb asked.
“I’m just the hired help,” Will said. He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then shrugged. “
You
could probably find out.”
They all stared at him, wondering why he had such pull with the police.
“Trust me, it’s the guy I work for, not me,” Caleb said.
“Adam Harrison, Harrison Investigations,” Barry said. “Boo. Aren’t you guys ghost busters or something?”
Caleb was careful not to hesitate too long before answering. He drew his finger through the frost on his beer glass as he spoke. “We’re an investigation agency like any other. Licensed, all that. I spent today tracking down information the police already had, just double-checking. Tedious and time-consuming. Most of our work is slow and not at all exciting, much less eerie, in any way.”
“But I read somewhere that you were called in by the government because some weird shit was going on in a couple of government buildings and people were saying it was ghosts,” Barry argued.
“We were. We get a lot of calls like that. Most of the time, the supposed whispers are coming from old pipes or the wind coming in through leaky window frames.”
“Here she is,” Caroline interrupted suddenly. With a huge smile, she stood up, waving.
Caleb looked over to the door and saw that Sarah had just arrived, looking stunning in a simple black dress and low heels.
Her hair was flowing around her shoulders like shining velvet, and she was as model-perfect as Caroline and all her friends thought, but she appeared tense. Her face was ashen, and even as she hurried between tables toward them, the look in her eyes seemed distant.
She didn’t notice him at first. She took a seat next to Caroline and swiped her beer, taking a long swallow.
“Hey, I said you needed a drink,” Caroline told her, “not an entire keg!”
“What’s wrong, cuz?” Will asked, looking concerned and leaning forward to meet her eyes.
“Terrence Griffin the Third is what’s wrong,” she said, then saw Caleb and nearly spilled the beer as she set it down. She stared at him.
“I saw Caleb sitting all by himself at the bar and asked him to join us,” Caroline said.
As if jolted into remembering her manners, Sarah quickly said, “How nice. Nice to see you again, Caleb.”
He could tell from her body language that she didn’t think it was nice at all, but that was okay. He was making points with Caroline, and maybe even the wary Renee. Will had accepted him when they’d first met, but maybe that was only professional courtesy.
“Who is Terrence Griffin the Third?” Caleb asked when no one else said anything.
She shrugged.
“Sarah, seriously, what happened? Who is this guy?” Caroline asked.
“A very,
very
old man,” Will answered for Sarah.
She turned to stare at him, frowning.
“You know him?” she asked.
“Yes, and you do, too—in a way,” Will answered. “Twenty years ago, we ran through his yard and got in trouble for it. That wall in front of his place isn’t historic—he built it to keep kids out. The guy was ancient, must’ve been eighty, at least. A cranky old hermit. What brought him up now? Were his bones in your walls?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t even remember whatever incident you’re talking about.”
“So you guys were the evil hellions torturing your poor old neighbors?” Renee said.
“Oh, yeah, whoopee. We trespassed,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “It couldn’t have been that bad. I don’t remember it—or him.”
“So what about Mr. Griffin?” Caleb prompted.
“He can’t still be living,” Will said.
“He is. He wandered into my house,” Sarah said.
“What? Impossible—he has to be dead. He was older than time twenty years ago,” Will told her.
“He’s one hundred and two,” Sarah said.
“And off his rocker, I’ll bet,” Will said. “You might not remember what happened, but I do. I was grounded for a week when he called my mother. Just for running through his yard!” He snorted indignantly.
“Why are you so bothered by seeing him tonight?” Caroline asked.
“I’d like to know how the hell he got into your house,” Caleb added.
Sarah looked at him, the silver in her eyes shimmering like mercury. “I just stopped by the house to see if anyone was still working, and they weren’t. I was on my way back out when he walked in.”
“You didn’t lock the door?” Will demanded.
“Sarah!” Caroline said.
“Please, you should know better,” Barry told her.
“Oh, come on. Don’t start on me!” Sarah protested, turning to stare at Caleb. It was obvious in the way she looked at him that she thought this was all his fault for asking how the man had gotten into the house.
Well, she might be pissed, but too bad. He was glad that he had spoken. With this much pressure from her friends, she wasn’t likely to make the mistake again.
But it sure as hell wasn’t going to help him any in his quest to get to know her better.
“What did the man say?” he asked quickly. Maybe if he shifted the conversation’s focus, it would improve his position with her.
She hesitated briefly, then shrugged. “He said that my house is evil, that it’s haunted. He’s convinced that it…did something to his daughter back in the nineteen twenties.”
“He thinks the
house
did something to her?” Will asked, confused.
“What? Does he think your house
eats
people or something?” Renee asked, bewildered.
“No, no. I feel sorry for the man, actually. His daughter was on her way to my house to meet a friend—a mutual friend of one of the Brennan girls, the people who were living there then—and she disappeared,” Sarah explained.
She had finished off Caroline’s beer. Caroline picked up her empty glass and studied it sadly.
Caleb turned around and motioned to the waitress, making a circle in the air to indicate a round of drinks for the table. She nodded.
“Poor man,” Caroline said. “Imagine, living all those years—and never knowing what happened to your kid.”
“What if her bones were in the walls?” Sarah said.
“What?” Will demanded, grimacing.
“We don’t know anything yet, really,” Sarah told him. “Maybe his daughter was killed and put into the walls eighty years ago.”
Caleb leaned forward. “Floby thought the bodies were all from around the same time period, back around the Civil War,” he told her.
“I hope he’s right,” Sarah murmured.
The drinks came. When the waitress set a beer in front of Sarah, she frowned, as if wondering how it had gotten there. Then she shrugged and drank.
“Here’s the thing,” Renee said. “You really shouldn’t go back to that place.”
“That place has my life savings invested in it,” Sarah said.
“Stop being a cliché,” Caroline said, exasperated. “Every stupid horror movie aggravates the audience for the same reason—if a place is that bad, get the hell out! Come on. Your life is worth more than some building, even one you’ve coveted since we were kids. Come and move in with me.”
Sarah laughed and hugged her friend. “Caroline, my life hasn’t been threatened. Nothing bad has
happened to anyone in that house for…well, maybe ever. I mean, dumping bodies out of coffins and stashing them in the walls is gross, but if Floby is right, it all happened a long time ago, and that means there’s nothing for me to worry about.”
“But you’re not going to stay there tonight, are you?” Barry asked her.
“The
house
hasn’t done anything,” Sarah said again, reaching for her drink.
Caroline was holding onto her own glass tightly now.
“That old guy startled me, that’s all,” Sarah said, looking around from one to the other of them. “It’s terrible of me to be so upset.”
“Not so terrible. He was a mean old bastard,” Will said.
“That’s a horrible thing to say!” Sarah protested.
“Well, he was.”
Sarah looked at Caleb. “So how was your day?”
“Not very eventful,” he said, keeping his new information to himself for the moment. “A lot of running around. But it was a start, and at least I’m not going to have to do it again.”
“Nothing in Jacksonville?” she asked.
“Just a lot of legwork,” he said.
He had a feeling she was trying to get him to talk because she didn’t want to be pressured anymore; he had a feeling, though, that she hadn’t told the group what she was really thinking, or maybe she hadn’t told them everything Mr. Griffin had said. But he wasn’t about to say that he might have taken a few steps
forward and was certain now that Jennie Lawson was dead, and that she had been killed here in St. Augustine.
He lifted his glass to Sarah and turned the topic right back to
her.
“So how did your encounter with Mr. Griffin end?”
“His nurse showed up looking for him. Her name is Cary Hagan, and she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Sarah told them.
“Oh, yeah?” Caroline said. “Well,
you’re
the most beautiful woman
I’ve
ever seen.” She looked at Caleb as if for confirmation.
Sarah turned to stare at her friend, completely baffled. She had confidence in herself, Caleb realized, but she had a complete lack of vanity and was genuinely dumbfounded by what Caroline had said.
“No, I mean she was perfect. Like walk-off-a-
GQ
-cover perfect. If you ever see her, you’ll know what I mean,” Sarah said. “I bet she’ll show up in here one night.”
“Come on, the city isn’t
that
small,” Will argued.
“Shh, don’t look now,” Renee said suddenly. “I think she just came in.”
Of course they all turned to see.
“I said
don’t
look,” Renee said. “And she’s not just here—she’s here with Tim Jamison.”
“You don’t know that,” Caroline argued. “She walked in and he walked in, but that doesn’t mean they came together. Besides, we don’t even know if we’re talking about the same person.”
“That is one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever
seen,” Barry said, and Renee whacked him playfully on the arm. “Hey! I’m not blind, you know. And as a totally objective observation, she’s stunning. So, Sarah, is that the woman you were talking about?”
Sarah, who was staring wide-eyed at the door, simply nodded.
“Look,” Caroline said. “She’s talking to Tim. Maybe they
did
come in together.”
“Tim is married,” Renee pointed out.
“I’ll go say hello and introduce you all,” Sarah said.
“You don’t need to do that,” Caroline protested.
“Why not?” Sarah asked, clearly puzzled.
Caleb hid a smile. She obviously didn’t realize that Caroline was trying to steer the two of them together.
“Well, because—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah said, and left them, winding her way through the tables. All of them were silent, staring at Cary, who seemed startled when Sarah reached her. She quickly smiled, though, and then, as Sarah spoke, she looked toward their table—and caught all of them staring at her. She smiled and waved, and they had no choice but to wave back.
Sarah led Cary over to their table. As they approached, Caleb stood, followed by Barry and Will.
Sarah was smiling like a cat with a canary as she introduced everyone. “Cary Hagan, I’d like you to meet my cousin Will, and my friends and coworkers Renee Otten, Barry Travis and Caroline Roth. And this is Caleb Anderson, who’s just in town for a visit. Everyone, Cary Hagan.”