In Search of Truth

by Sharon Wray

  Even though Allison knew better than to engage, she couldn’t help herself from responding. “Go back to your cult, Rue.”

  “Raven’s Retreat isn’t a cult. It’s a lifestyle choice.”

  “The deluded people who give you money to listen to your pseudo-pagan-divination-doomsday nonsense who must live and work on your property with your husband/my uncle have a choice?”

  “Of course they do.” Rue clenched her hands against her skirt, wrinkling the fabric. “My acolytes can leave at any time.”

  The very word acolyte made Allison sick to her stomach.

  Rue and her husband—Allison’s uncle—Fenwick were con men. Ever since Allison’s brother’s death, Rue and Fenwick had been making their living from siphoning money off their cult members, forcing those same cult members to run their absinthe distillery and work in the Pink House. The Pink House, the other oldest structure in the city also originally owned by Mercy Chastain, was Rue’s art gallery. It specialized in female creations inspired by the goddess.

  It would be one thing if Rue practiced those pagan or wiccan beliefs, but she was too pragmatic. The only thing Rue believed in was money and her own ability to generate it.

  Allison moved away from the door. “Go back to Fenwick Hall. Your minions await.”

  Rue sent Allison a sly, serpent-like smile. “I told you not to marry Stuart. That you had no business marrying anyone ever. That your heart, so hard and ugly, would never be able to love. Especially not a man.”

  Allison opened the front door. “Leave. Or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Rue put her hand on the jamb. “Your father and brother are dead because of your selfishness and inability to love others. Because you’re a closed-hearted, frigid bitch. You’re a brittle, dead petal.”

  Unfortunately, Rue’s voice carried. A group of tourists, listening to their docent and taking photos in front of the Pirates Courtyard gate, turned to stare at them.

  When one tourist pointed a camera in Allison’s direction, she lowered her voice. “Rue, it’s time to go.”

  “I saw it all in my visions, Petal. I saw Stuart betray you. I saw you loveless and alone.”

  Allison swallowed a bitter taste and noticed the man with the baseball cap beyond the tourists, now leaning against the gate. Allison forced a smile for the sake of whatever cameras were on her now and gently forced Rue onto the front stoop. “Thanks for coming by.”

  With that, Allison shut the door and locked it. Then she leaned against it and closed her eyes. She focused on taking long, deep breaths and reminded herself that this was why she stayed away from Rue. This was why, when she was fourteen, she ran away to New Orleans to live with her grandmother. A decision that led to her attending Tulane and meeting Stuart.

  And Zack.

  Opening her eyes, she went into the kitchen to get her handbag and found a piece of paper on the floor. A receipt for a local garden center dated a few days before Stuart’s death.

  Had it fallen out of a box?

  Not only had he bought rosemary, lilies of the valley, and thistle, he’d paid in cash.

  How odd.

  She shoved it into her purse and turned on her phone. She had a few messages from Maddie and called her back. When she heard Maddie’s friendly voice, she exhaled loudly. What a relief to talk to someone sane.

  “Allison?” Maddie asked. “Susan made something for Nicholas Trott. May we stop by later today after ballet class?”

  “Of course.” Allison shoved all of the office supplies back into the box, rearranging things so they’d fit. She didn’t have the mental energy to sort through it all now. Besides, she might turn up actual evidence of his affair. “Maddie, when you were last at Pirate House, do you remember locking up?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Rue was here and she said the door was open.” Allison grabbed her purse and unlocked the back door to enter the courtyard, where a fountain in the shape of a Green Man face spewed water into a raised brick basin. The spray cooled her hot face as two koi swam around the pond. Purple violets had worked their way through the cracks in the brick-and-mortar background.

  “That’s strange,” Maddie said. “Was dealing with Rue difficult?”

  Allison dropped her bag onto the wrought-iron table near the fountain. “It’s always difficult.”

  “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. But thank you. I’ll see you soon.” After hanging up, she slipped her phone into her pocket and sank into the iron chair next to the table.

  Non ruta non dolor. The phrase the guard had spoken the night before tumbled through her mind. But today neither rue nor regret took on another meaning. For all the problems lying in her lap, all the questions burning in her brain, two things she knew for certain: Rue could not be a part of her life, and Allison couldn’t spend the rest of her life regretting that decision.

  “Allison?” She stood and saw Zack striding toward her. Today he wore jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. Even his tattoos seemed more intense in the daylight. She was getting used to the long black hair tied at his neck. It made him look more like a biker than a soldier.

  Maybe that was the point.

  Zack grabbed her shoulders, pulled her against his chest, and kissed her.

  His lips tilted over hers and he took charge of the motion. It was hard and fierce, and heat rushed through her body. The moment her body softened against his, he let go.

  “I’m sorry.” He sat on the edge of the raised pond and dropped his head into his hands.

  She went over on shaky legs and laid a hand on his hair. It was so much softer than it looked. His body shook. His right hand was bruised, the knuckles covered in dried blood.

  A man didn’t kiss a woman like that if everything in his life was great. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his head, and she swallowed hard. She’d never seen so much pain in another person’s eyes.

  She sat on the brick edge next to him, the fountain water misting her back, and took his hands in hers. “I thought you went back to Savannah?”

  He cleared his throat and stared at the violets pushing up between the bricks. “I told you I’d be back.”

  Except she hadn’t believed it. “Why did you return to Charleston?”

  “To protect you.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But now I’m asking for your help. Remember last night when Marcellus said you needed to retrieve that pirate treasure that Stuart failed to find?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I want to save my sister, we need to find it within the next four days.”

  “Why?” Allison stood and touched his arm. “What happened to Emilie?”

  “She’s been kidnapped.”

  * * *

  Had he just kissed Allison?

  What was wrong with him? Zack flexed his aching hand and paced the courtyard. A restlessness had taken hold of him, and he felt manic and feverish. After talking to Alex, Zack had called Allison but she hadn’t answered. So he’d gone to Pinckney House and seen Lawrence. Lawrence, who’d remembered Zack and for some reason had been measuring the hallway, sent Zack to Pastor Tom who’d pointed to Pirate House.

  Zack’s sister was missing and the only way to save her was to find some old pirate’s treasure? He despised the Fianna almost as much as he despised Remiel.

  “Zack.” When he passed by, Allison grabbed his hand, forcing him to stop moving. “What’s going on?”

  Zack stared at their clasped hands. So many thoughts tumbled in his brain he didn’t know how to sort them. “The Prince and his Fianna warriors kidnapped my sister. The only way to save her is to find Henry Avery’s treasure. To do that, we need the Pirate’s Grille—”

  “And the appendix to the Witch’s Exa
mination of Mercy Chastain.” Allison released his hand to clasp hers in her lap.

  “Which we don’t have because Stuart sold it to the Prince.”

  “According to Hezekiah, Stuart sold the Witch’s Examination of Mercy Chastain without the appendix. Which means it’s still missing.” Allison rubbed her forehead with her fist. “There might be another way.”

  Zack knelt in front of her. “What?”

  “Mercy Chastain and Henry Avery were lovers who disappeared on the same day.”

  Zack grimaced. “Really?”

  “Yep.” She waved her hand around the courtyard. “They met when Mercy worked as a barmaid here at Pirate House. They started their affair, and after she had his baby, he built her another house called Pink House. A year later, she was accused of witchcraft.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “None. According to her witch’s examination, it was an anonymous accusation. Eventually Nicholas Trott, the chief justice, got her exonerated. Although Trott believed in witchcraft, he’d seen the paranoia and fear caused by the Salem witch trials only a decade earlier and refused to let that happen in Charleston.” Allison stood because now it was her turn to pace. “After Mercy’s release from prison, she came back to Pirate House to work, but a few months later, she and Henry disappeared. It was only after their disappearance that people realized Henry the barkeeper was actually Henry Avery the infamous pirate who’d been hiding in plain sight from the authorities.”

  “And this pirate Henry Avery had a treasure?”

  “Yes.” Allison came back to take his hand. “Before hiding out in Charleston, he took the largest prize ever taken by a pirate. But then he went missing and so did his treasure.”

  “Then he came to Charleston to do what…hang out?”

  “Yes, actually.” Allison quickly told Zack about her conversation with Pastor Tom. “Since Stuart didn’t have the Pirate’s Grille, he believed that if he found out what happened to Mercy, she would lead him to the treasure.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  “I have no idea. And here’s the problem.”

  Zack sank down onto the edge of the raised pond again. “There’s always a problem.”

  “I’ve been looking for Mercy my entire life.”

  He glanced up at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ever since I read Mercy’s witch’s examination when I was little and learned that she disappeared, I’ve been obsessed with finding her. This obsession led to my PhD in cultural anthropology, and finding her is the best chance I have of making tenure. Except there’s no written record of her death or burial. I’ve spent years searching for her. Talking to historians. Poring over old records. She simply disappeared.”

  “There’s nothing simple about this.” He sighed. “Where do we start?”

  “Let’s go back and study the Pirate’s Grille again. There’s got to be another clue.” She rubbed her forehead with her fist and frowned. “Zack, last night you mentioned a man named Remiel Marigny. I know it’s classified, but if I’m going to help you, you need to trust me.”

  Zack leaned his forearms on his thighs and let his head hang low. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  She knelt before him and raised his chin with her finger until their gazes met. “I would never betray you.”

  After a long moment, he said, “Remiel Marigny didn’t just order the deaths of Hezekiah and Stuart. Remiel accused my unit of a horrible event called the Wakhan Corridor Massacre—a massacre he orchestrated and that led to half my unit being ambushed in the Pamir River Valley. The other half of the unit rescued them. The POWs were then sent to a secret army prison while my men and I were secretly and dishonorably discharged.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the army believed that our entire group was responsible for the massacre.” He took her face in his hands. “I swear we weren’t.”

  As if she’d ever believed he could have been responsible. She sat next to him. “There’s something you should know. Stuart left Isabel a million-dollar life insurance policy.”

  Zack’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  When she finished telling him about her meeting with Lawrence, he said, “This isn’t a joke?”

  “Nope. None of this makes sense. I mean who is this Remiel Marigny?”

  “A vicious arms dealer who’s in a war with the Prince. I don’t know why. All I’m sure of is that my men and I are caught in the middle.”

  “How did Stuart get involved with all of this?”

  “No idea. Although if I had to guess, I think Isabel is the key. She works for Remiel.”

  Allison paled. “That means she’s partly responsible for Stuart’s death.”

  Before Zack could respond, Allison’s cell phone rang and she answered, “Hello, Detective.” A moment later she said, “We’re on our way.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She threw her purse over her shoulder, took his wrist, and ran out of the courtyard, pulling him with her. “Pinckney House is on fire.”

  Chapter 15

  Zack parked his bike behind Allison’s car, four hundred yards from her house. The street was blocked off by fire trucks, police vehicles, and lots of bystanders. He took her hand and led her down the crowded sidewalk.

  When they arrived, Detective Waring helped them cross the barricades. From there, Zack saw smoke coming from the back garden. Yet the house appeared unharmed.

  “Detective,” Allison said in a breathless voice, “what’s going on? How’s Nicholas Trott?”

  On cue, Nicholas Trott ran off the porch to greet them.

  Detective Waring took Allison’s arm and led her toward the back of the house. “There was a fire in a garden building.”

  “The gardener’s shed?”

  “Yes. The firefighters put it out, but the building has been gutted.”

  Zack followed them. “And the main house?”

  “The fire was contained to the dependency and part of the west garden.” Waring stepped over a ladder. “The fire inspector is checking the main house now. There’s smoke damage.”

  When they turned the corner, Allison gasped. Black soot coated the house’s wooden clapboards.

  “I’m sure the soot can be washed off,” Waring said.

  Nicholas Trott ran into the house, and they headed toward the wood-and-brick building in the far corner of the property. A shell of its former self, the roof was charred timbers, and the windows and doors were gone. Only the brick supports remained. A few firefighters were still spraying the area with hoses.

  “Those eighteenth-century bricks are sturdy,” Waring said. “I bet it can be renovated with insurance money.”

  Allison sighed. “Lawrence isn’t going to be happy.”

  A few minutes later, they entered Allison’s kitchen.

  Waring took out a notebook and pen. “Mrs. Pinckney, do you have any idea why someone would burn down your shed?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s historically significant, but there wasn’t anything in there of value.”

  “You should call your insurance company. Once the investigation is done, they’ll give you contacts for cleanup crews and builders.” Waring snapped his notebook closed. “After the inspector finishes his work, it’ll take at least a week to get the report finished and filed.”

  When Waring left the kitchen, she called the insurance company and Zack heard a knock at the back door.

  He found Alex standing there, hands in his jean pockets. “I got your text.”

  Since Allison was preoccupied with insurance people, Zack went outside with Alex. Nicholas Trott followed for belly rubs from the new guy. Most of the fire trucks had left, but one remained with the firefighters still soaking the gardens.

  When Alex stopped rubbing, Nicholas Trott returned to the house. “What happened?”
<
br />   “Allison’s shed burned down.”

  “Burned? Or had been burnt?”

  “Not sure yet.” They walked the path together while Zack told Alex about Isabel’s insurance windfall.

  When Zack finished, Alex said, “Isabel is a conniving, manipulating bitch.”

  “I feel bad for Allison. She’s acting like she’s okay, but that news had to have hit hard.”

  “Allison is strong. And she has you.” Alex gripped Zack’s shoulder. “Have you called Nate to tell him about Emilie?”

  “I’ll call when I have more intel.” Zack leaned against a palm tree and crossed his arms. This garden was larger than he’d realized. “Do you want me to go with you to meet your brother?”

  “No.” Alex took out a hand-rolled cigarette and lighter. “What are you going to do now?”

  Zack was about to give Alex the smoking lecture but figured there was no point. From what Zack had witnessed since Alex had arrived in the unit, the brother hardly ever smoked. The only time he lit up was after an argument with Kells. “Right now I need a plan.”

  Zack stopped talking because Allison appeared, looking paler if that was at all possible.

  “Allison, this my buddy Alex. He’s in town to help.”

  She shook Alex’s hand and smiled. “I’m grateful, Alex. We’re going to need it.”

  Zack heard the tension in her voice. “What happened?”

  “Remember the Pirate’s Grille I put into the safe last night?”

  Zack nodded.

  “It’s gone.”

  * * *

  Four hours later, Allison said goodbye to the fire inspector and escorted Detective Waring back to his patrol car he’d parked down the street.

  “Mrs. Pinckney, do you have any idea who would’ve stolen that document from the safe? It wasn’t broken into, so the thief must’ve had the combination. There’s no sign of forced entry into the house. Was the alarm set?”

  “I had to suspend service to cut expenses.” She then told Detective Waring about Lawrence being at the house and how she’d left him alone so she could meet Pastor Tom. “I know he didn’t have the new safe combination, and I’ve no idea when he left. It’s possible Lawrence forgot to lock the front door.”