“Of course.” She told him then that she was going riding, and she would check in on him later.
A few minutes, she was dressed, and she ran downstairs. Penny had a plate with corn muffins set for her, along with juice and coffee.
“Did you check in on Adam, dear?” Penny asked her.
“Yes, he’s just going to sleep for a bit. Hopefully, he’ll feel some better by this evening.”
“Let him get some rest today,” Clint said. “He’ll want to enjoy the show tomorrow.”
“The reenactments are fun,” Carter told Darcy. “You’ll see today when we go riding—there are already a bunch of encampments set up. Wives come along and dress in antebellum fashion and cook on the battlefield. Some women dress up as laundresses…and those who just kind of follow armies, if you know what I mean.”
“Prostitutes,” Penny said impatiently.
Carter grinned and laughed. “Right. Prostitutes. Since General Hooker gave his name to one of the current labels for such ladies, we know that they were in abundance in the Civil War. And, hey, do you know how many soldiers came down with sexual diseases?”
“No, and we don’t want to know,” Penny said.
“Well, that’s good. I don’t really know the number. But a lot,” Carter said.
“Shall we ride?” Harry asked.
Darcy gulped down the last of her orange juice and stood. “I’m ready, whenever. Penny, did you want to join us?” she asked.
“Heavens, no! I watched these boys play soldier far too long. Have a lovely afternoon.” She waved them all away, and they headed out to the stables.
Despite his absolute faith in his own people, Matt recognized that they were a small-town force. Before he ever reached Mahoney’s himself, he’d put through a call to Randy Newton, the friend at the FBI who had tested the library floorboard for him.
While he waited for Randy and his team to arrive, Matt followed Thayer around the mortuary, seeing where a screen had been broken in the basement, allowing the thief—or thieves—entry. Mahoney’s desk had been rifled, but it looked like a sloppy job. Nothing had been taken but the hundred dollars from the petty cash box, while Mahoney’s Rolex, a Christmas present from his wife the year before, lay untouched right on top of the desk.
The wooden evidence box, filled with dirt and bones, had been left in one of the viewing rooms, where one of Matt’s men would have picked it up from to drive it on in to Digger at the museum.
Mahoney was concerned, convinced that they were making far too much out of an ancient skeleton, and was concerned that the police would still be around when the Thompsons arrived for their great-aunt’s funeral that night. Matt could only assure Mahoney that he’d do his best to collect what he needed, and be out.
Randy Newton was a tall, well-built guy who had made some of the top scores when he’d been in the academy at Quantico. He’d met Matt while working on a serial killer case in the outskirts of D.C., a truly psychotic fellow who had preyed on impoverished prostitutes. They’d worked together well, and remained friends. Despite the usual peace and tranquility to be found in Stoneyville, northern and central Virginia provided havens for criminals who struck in the bigger cities, and hid out in the countryside. Matt and Randy had kept up a communications system which had served them both well in the past.
Randy looked like FBI. He wore the inevitable suit, and sunglasses, and with his height, build, and dark hair, he emitted an aura of authority. Even Mahoney welcomed him with something like awe.
But when they were alone in the viewing room where the box had been, Randy shook his head. “I don’t get it, Matt. I mean, I can see where you’re angry, but hell. This probably is a fraternity prank. Who the hell would want a bunch of old bones?”
“Randy, there is no guarantee that they’re old bones.”
“I thought that your psychic had been led to them by a ghost in a long, flowing white gown.”
“Yeah—and there are still lots of white flowing nightgowns out there.”
“Really? I don’t remember. I’ve been married too long. Rita wears T-shirts.” He shrugged. “She used to wear nothing at all, and that was pretty cool, but then we had the kids…hey, Matt, you’re not smiling.”
“Because I think this is serious.”
“Do you know how many known murders I have on my plate right now, Matt?”
“I can imagine. But Randy, help me out on this. Get your guys to do the fingerprinting, look for any shoe marks…anything.” He hesitated. “And do me another favor.”
“What?”
“Run your files for me. Look for anyone in your missing persons files who…who just might have disappeared from this area.”
“Matt, I think a bunch of kids stole the bones of a woman murdered so long ago, there’s not a damned thing we can do for her.”
“Randy, help me out here anyway.”
“Did your psychic tell you to bring me in?” Randy asked suspiciously.
“Randy, no. I’m asking a favor.”
“All right. You’ve got it.”
“I need the files as quickly as possible.”
“Drive up to my office tomorrow. I’ll give you everything I can get.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, you’re looking frazzled as hell.”
“Haven’t slept.”
Randy cocked his head to one side. “Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts. Hell, I guess they can keep you awake. Go home. Go to sleep. We’ll take over here. And get out before the funeral. Trust me. Go.”
Matt didn’t argue. He left Mahoney’s, and headed straight home. He could hear Penny in her office when he stepped into the foyer, but he quickly slipped up the stairs, and crashed straight into his bed.
In a matter of minutes, he was sound asleep.
The ride was incredibly pleasant.
They headed out toward the north, following the main road for several miles, then riding into pasture land where canvas tents dotted the fields. They dismounted from their horses and walked around the various living history exhibits, visiting the blacksmith, an officer’s tent, a seamstress, a common soldier’s little plot, and the field hospital. Harry Smith introduced her to dozens of people, but when they came across those who had read about her in the newspapers, he politely but firmly found a way to steer her away.
Carter and Clint were old friends with many of the men as well, and with a few of their friends, they rode on over to the Yankee camp, where they all teased that she belonged.
Naturally, she reminded them who had won the war.
“Of course,” Carter said. “The North had to win. I mean, what were those fellows thinking, that any man had the right to own another? It’s crazy now. But history.”
“And history we shouldn’t forget,” Clint said. “Things that were horrible have to be remembered. Hopefully, we learn from our mistakes. What is that saying? Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it?”
“Very true,” Harry Smith said. “I fought in the very early stages of Viet Nam. Any man who has really gone to war knows how terrible it is. Generals usually do their best to avoid conflict—politicians are the ones who are most eager for it. Anyway, don’t get me started. Dusk is coming soon. We ought to get back. Let’s take the back fields.”
“Sure you want to do that? We may have some fences in the way,” Clint reminded him.
“I know the way,” Harry said.
The ride back was far more beautiful. They never touched a main road, but traveled around farm fields and pastureland. After one massive cornfield, they came up a lovely little stream, with the water dancing over small rocks and boulders.
“Some of the heaviest fighting took place there, in the cornfield. Just like it was at the battle of Sharpesburg, men and corn alike were mowed down,” Harry said. As they rode, the stream widened. They came upon a beautiful whitewashed wooden bridge, spanning the stream between fields and the dirt trail they rode.
“The bridge is new. The original was destroye
d during the fighting. Dozens of men crashed through it, and died, broken and battered, on the rocks below,” Harry said sadly.
Darcy could well imagine. There was an aura here, one of great sadness. She closed her eyes for a moment, and heard the heartrending cry of a wounded man. The lucky ones died instantly, she thought, because the others had lain with broken bones, in agony, while the fighting had continued.
She quickly opened her eyes. The memory of pain here was deep.
Harry winked at her. “There’s some activity in this area tomorrow. But we don’t destroy the bridge anymore. Too expensive.”
“I can imagine,” Darcy said.
“Still, you’ll enjoy it, I promise!” Carter told her.
“Darcy, you should dress up,” Clint said.
“I’m not a native,” she told him.
Clint waved a hand in the air. “Half the Southerners today are from New York. Who cares? And there’s still a romance about the Southern Cause. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have great friends who are true loyal Yanks! But it doesn’t matter, we’re reenacting history. Dress up, and ride with us. Not in the actual battle, of course. But you can be one of our wives. It’ll be great.”
“Or she can belong to all of us,” Carter said with a wink. “Camp follower, you know.”
“Carter, really!” Harry said with indignation.
“I’m sorry—prostitute. Penny did correct us, right?”
“That’s not the point. Darcy is far too…dignified to be a camp follower!”
“It’s a reenactment!” Clint said, laughing. “We’re not really going to put a ‘for hire’ sign on her, or anything.”
“We’ll see,” Darcy said, laughing. “I think I’m fresh out of camp follower clothing, though.”
“Penny can set you all up,” Clint said cheerfully.
“Let’s ride on,” Harry said. “It’s getting dark.”
Matt had been soundly sleeping when he felt the fingertips moving down his cheek.
Then he woke with a vivid start.
The room was mostly in shadow, with dusk upon them, and yet he knew, instinctively, who it was.
“Lavinia!”
He bolted out of the bed and turned on the light. She was still seated on the side of the bed, smiling.
“What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” he demanded.
She pouted, something she did very well. “What a greeting! When I took the first plane down from New York just to show myself.”
“That was great of you, Lavinia, really. But did you ever hear of knocking? Who let you up here?”
“No one let me up. I told Penny I’d run up and see if you were awake.”
“You could have knocked.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I know my way around.” She smiled. “Look at that! I think you’re getting a touch of gray in your hair.”
“Time does go by.” And it had. It had been years since he had seen her. With the initial shock of her arrival over, he had to admit, it had been pretty decent of her to come. He was actually going to enjoy seeing Darcy’s face when she met Lavinia. “But you,” he said magnanimously. “You look great.”
She did. Her hair was still long, red, and shining. She seemed to have acquired more of a lithe, hourglass figure.
She stood. “You think so.”
“Yep. You’re even more…voluptuous than ever.”
She grinned. “Okay, so I had a boob job. They did great work though. Want to see?”
He laughed. “No, but thanks.”
“Ah, so there’s something going on with the ghost chaser, huh?”
“Did you come because you were bored, Lavinia, or to help me out?”
She reflected the comment honestly for a minute. “Okay, maybe I was a little bored. But I did come to help you out.”
“Want to really help me?”
“Sure.”
“Get out of my bedroom. I’ll be right down.”
Lavinia rose regally, stretching like a cat. She walked by him, rising against him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe I’ll still be bored if the little ghost chaser goes away.”
“Lavinia, we’ve been that route before. Let’s be friends, huh?”
She shrugged and started toward the door. “Your cousin still hanging around here? And that handsome friend of his?”
“Clint—and Carter.”
“Carter, yeah.”
“They’re still around, Lavinia.”
“And they’ve gone through women like toilet paper, I take it. But then again, I’m not the usual country fare, am I?”
“If you’re trying to make me jealous, Lavinia, I told you, we’ve been that route before.”
Her smiled deepened. “I’m not trying to make you jealous. I’m just bored.”
“I’m sure that both Carter and Clint will be around for dinner.”
“Good. I am hungry,” she said, and at last departed his room.
Darcy insisted on taking care of Nellie when they returned to the stables, though Sam was waiting for them, and managed to remove the horse’s saddle the minute she had crawled out of it. “They’re waiting for you, up at the house,” Sam told them.
“Waiting for us? Are we late for dinner? It’s early,” Carter said.
Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ve got a visitor.” He turned his back on them, leading Tannenbaum back to his stall.
“A mystery. How cool,” Clint said.
“What is it?” Carter asked Sam, frowning.
Harry linked an arm with his. “Let’s just go on up and see.”
It looked as if Carter still wanted to protest but he was dragged along. As they walked up the porch steps, Darcy knew that she was curious herself. They walked into the foyer, and saw a group sitting in the parlor.
Adam, up and dressed and looking very regal. Penny, flushed and a little flustered. And Matt, casual in jeans and a knit polo shirt.
And a woman.
A really gorgeous woman in tight black pants and a blue silk shirt that enhanced her assets to a T.
She stood with the others as they entered.
“My Lord!” Clint breathed.
Matt smiled broadly at Darcy across the room. “Darcy! I think the others have all met. This is Lavinia Harper. Lavinia, Darcy Tremayne.”
18
Matt might have been mad as a hornet that morning, but now, he was as smug as the Cheshire cat. He somehow refrained from shouting, “She’s alive. See, see! My ex-wife is alive and well.”
And stunning. Smooth, elegant, and with perfect poise and sophistication, though her eyes were still curious and judging when they fell upon Darcy.
“Miss Tremayne! I’ve been reading about you all the way up in New York.” Lavinia took her hand in a truly decent shake.
“Have you?” she said dryly, then, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Well, of course, it is,” Lavinia said. “With bones popping up all over, I’m happy to prove that they’re not mine. But if you’re a psychic, shouldn’t you know that?”
“I’ve been trying to explain to Lavinia that dealing with the mind is not always such an obvious thing,” Adam said.
“Lavinia, you are gorgeous!” Clint told her.
“Clint! I haven’t given you a hug yet.” The woman flashed Darcy a smile. “If they wanted to be honest, they’d all tell you that it’s not such a thrill to have me here, but these are true old-time Southerners, determined on the old hospitality!”
“Lavinia, really. We’re certainly pleased to have you,” Penny said stiffly.
Lavinia broke into laughter. “Her words a lie, her tone the truth! Oh, Penny, don’t go getting all flustered.” She offered her smile to Darcy again. “The boys, however, really don’t mind too badly, hm? Clint, I’m still waiting on the hug.”
She walked toward him. Clint winked at Darcy and mouthed, “Yow! Come to me, baby!”
She turned. Matt was looking at her. Still smug and pleased.
“Hey, any luck finding
the bones?” Carter asked Matt.
He shook his head. “But we will find them.”
“What can I get you all to drink?” Penny asked.
“Beer for me, thanks, Penny,” Clint said. Lavinia had gone on to hug Carter and Harry.
“Ditto!” Carter said, over Lavinia’s shoulder.
“A Coke for me,” Harry called, next in line for the buxom hug.
“Darcy?” Matt asked politely.
She met his eyes and smiled sheepishly. “A big anything,” she told him.
“Not too big. I just found out myself that Adam bought you a present today,” Matt said.
“Oh?” Darcy looked at Adam.
“I’ve been thinking about it a long time. Sam helped me out after I made it out of bed,” Adam said.
“How are you feeling?” Darcy asked him.
“Much better. Sleep helped a lot,” Adam said.
“Yes, it does,” Matt said. “Darcy, I’ll get you a beer. Better yet, come with me to the kitchen—if that’s all right with you, Adam?”
“Certainly,” Adam said.
“What’s going on?” Darcy asked.
“Your present is in the kitchen,” Matt told her.
She followed him, and as he walked to the refrigerator, she looked around. Then she heard a sound and solid bark. Matt grinned, handing her the beer.
“A dog?” she said.
“Adam thought that, since you didn’t seem able to stop yourself from running around in the middle of the night, you should have a big dog. She’s around the counter in her crate, waiting to meet you.”
Darcy walked around the counter. Her tail wagging away, one of the most beautiful German shepherds Darcy had ever seen was waiting impatiently.
“She’s gorgeous!” Darcy said.
“You can let her out.”
“She full-grown?”
“Almost full-grown, and fully trained. And once she gets to know you, she’ll be your most loyal fan, and most ardent protector. Hopefully, you won’t send her after me. Now that you know that Lavinia is alive and well.”
Darcy had slipped the bolt on the crate and the dog was sniffing and licking her hands. She looked at Matt. “I never really thought—”
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