Sandy looked uncertain at that. Her eyes darted to Kelsey, who shrugged. “Sandy, it’s totally up to you.”
She still hesitated. Chasson placed a hand on her shoulder. “Please, Ms. Holly? It looks bad if we avoid the truth. Bernie, what’s the schedule? This is all we had for today, isn’t it? Could I have a few minutes with Ms. Holly?”
Bernie Firestone nodded. “Whatever Ms. Holly decides.”
“Or did you want a larger check?” Chasson asked.
Sandy straightened regally. “I made a deal. I’m not reneging because of money.”
“Fine. Sandy and I can hammer this out. It won’t take us more than twenty minutes,” Chasson said.
Guiding Sandy to another table, Jeff Chasson withdrew a pen from his jacket pocket and a cocktail napkin from a longhorn-shaped holder.
Bernie shook his head. “I knew better than to take on this project.”
“Jeff Chasson calls the shots?” Logan asked.
“Not all of them,” Bernie said wearily. “On some of the narration. Like I told you, he really wanted this project, and the executive producer really wanted him. To be honest, he looks good on camera, he’s got credibility and he has a great voice. This is my first real snag. A lot of the film is action, reenactments of what happened, based on the historical record.” He paused. The cameraman, no longer filming, had taken off his headset, set it over the tripod and waited with weary patience. “I’m not sure you met earlier. This is Earl Candy. An amazing cameraman.”
Kelsey and Logan shook hands with him, introducing themselves.
“I wait around a lot,” Candy told them with a good-natured shrug.
Kelsey laughed, and Bernie Firestone flashed her a smile. “Your cousin Sean is an important part of the process. There are dozens of maps spread across the screen as the narration goes on—he does those. And he’s a whiz with film, working with shots that look like hell until he’s added his smoke and black powder or blazing sun.”
“What about the cast?” Logan asked in what might have sounded like a non sequitur but wasn’t.
“You saw today. Most of them have been a dream. Very professional.”
“And you’ve hired on a real cowboy,” Logan noted.
Bernie nodded. “The guy’s got the look, you know.” He smiled at Kelsey again. “I’d love to have you in a few shots, all dressed up like a saloon girl. And, Raintree, you’d make a damned good Alamo defender.”
Kelsey immediately demurred. “I don’t think it’s for me, but it sounds like Corey Simmons is pleased and excited.”
“Yeah, I’ll just have to work around the rodeo schedule. There’s always something. And we’re supposed to wrap this up by next week. That’ll be a miracle.”
Jeff Chasson rose and returned to stand before Bernie. “I’ve got everything settled with Sandy. We’ll film the last part in Room 207. She’s approved the script.”
“What?” Earl Candy asked. Logan saw that his camera was big and heavy; there were also lights and screens, along with sound equipment.
Logan saw that Kelsey was frowning, silently echoing his own reaction.
“Kelsey, do you mind?” Sandy asked, hurrying over to her excitedly. “He’s going to introduce me as the new owner up in your room. We’ll be quick—we have to be. I need to reopen the bar area soon.”
“You did a wrap-up on the practice tape,” Bernie said.
“And you can edit it, and I damned well know that,” Jeff Chasson snapped. “Come on. Sandy and I have this all worked out, and it’s going to make for a better piece. Our market is the history and learning channels. You have to offer them something new. Something out of the ordinary.”
Chasson turned away, starting for the stairs with Sandy.
Bernie Firestone glared after them. “Yeah. How about history?” he muttered. But Chasson didn’t hear him, and Sandy had apparently become his best friend.
“Want me to carry some of the camera equipment?” Logan asked. “I don’t know much about it, but I can haul and take directions.”
Bernie and Earl Candy looked at him with gratitude. “Wait, I’ll get you more help!” Kelsey said cheerfully.
A moment later, Kelsey was back with Corey Simmons, who was happy to assist with the equipment. Kelsey grabbed a couple of the screens, and with all of them participating, they were able to take up the entire video and sound ensemble in one effort.
When they reached the room, Sandy was applying what had to be Kelsey’s makeup and trying to move Kelsey’s belongings out of the way. Logan watched Kelsey’s eyes as she surveyed the scene; she held her temper and stepped forward. “Sandy, I can shift my belongings into the bathroom and closet for now. Finish your makeup and let me clear everything away.”
Chasson had already studied the room, and he started giving directions. “Bernie, get the room, and then me, with the curtains just so, like that, looking out on the street. We’ll have Cameron play with the film and get some mist going. And shadows. That’ll be great.”
Logan held still. It was up to Sandy. If she wanted to go along with the arrogant weasel, that was her choice.
“I’ll set it all up,” Earl Candy said. “Don’t mind me,” he added a little bitterly.
“Let me just, uh, get out of the way,” Corey Simmons said. He’d put down the heavy camera he’d carried, looking torn. He’d run screaming from this room, Logan remembered.
“I’ll be back in the kitchen for now, in case y’all need me!” Corey said next. Maybe he was expecting the director or Jeff Chasson to ask him to stay. Neither did. Logan wasn’t sure if Corey was relieved or disappointed.
“Thanks, Corey,” Logan said. The others hadn’t really seemed to notice him, once his function had been fulfilled.
“I’m here, if you need me,” he repeated. Then he left, heading back down the long stairway.
“Is this the way it usually works?” Logan asked Earl Candy in a low voice.
“Well, there isn’t always a usual in documentaries, but no,” Candy said. “Hell, I make a good income and I’m paid by the hour. Guess this’ll let me get the wife an iPad.”
Chasson did have an eye for the dramatic. He started to tell Bernie what to film, but Bernie took over. “I know what you want, Chasson. And I’ll make it work, but listen to me now. They call me the director for a reason.”
“We’ll get out of the way, too,” Logan said.
Kelsey frowned, and he almost smiled. She wasn’t leaving what was currently her room with these people in it.
“We’ll wait here, in the hallway,” he said.
Kelsey nodded slightly and joined him.
What Chasson had planned wasn’t derogatory, or disrespectful. He spoke softly, with a reverent hush to his voice as he said, “We’ve come to Room 207. When some guests phone to book it, they call it the murder room. This was where Rose Langley entertained men from the Alamo, and where she met her death. And where, nearly two centuries later, another young woman encountered a terrible fate, although the truth of that fate is still not known. With me is Sandy Holly, current owner of the Longhorn Saloon and Inn. Sandy, can you tell us more of the story?”
Sandy looked very pretty—shy and sweet—as she stepped closer. Chasson laid an arm across her shoulders. “Ms. Holly, you bought the Longhorn right after the incident with Sierra Monte, didn’t you?”
“I was in the process of buying the saloon, yes, and it was so tragic! We don’t know what happened, other than that a tremendous amount of blood was found in the room. But after the police were finished, a clean-up biohazard crew came in and, as you can see, the room is beautiful now.”
“But, Sandy, twice in the same room… Do you think the spirits of Rose Langley and Sierra Monte are still here?”
“No. I think that if there are spirits, they’re the souls of those who have gone on, and both women know I revere the history in this place, and that they’re as welcome as any other guest of the Longhorn Saloon,” Sandy said earnestly.
“Thank yo
u, Sandy,” Chasson intoned, “and I’m Jeff Chasson for the history of the Alamo and Texas, old and new.”
“All right—was that brilliant, or what?” Jeff asked, coming forward when they were done.
Logan realized that Sandy was smiling from ear to ear.
She came forward, as well, hurrying out to the hallway to throw her arms around Kelsey. “That was great, just great! I think it will bring tons of people to the inn!”
“I hope so, Sandy,” Kelsey told her. She looked at Logan, and he grinned in return. He could tell that they were both wondering what Sandy had been so worried about.
“Drinks on the house!” Sandy announced. “If you’re available, of course.”
Earl Candy nodded. “Works for me.”
“Me, too. I could use a drink,” Bernie said. “Earl, give Cameron a call first. Have him get a gofer to pick up the film and ask him to take a look. I want it back with his effects in it as soon as possible, just to make sure we’ve got something really decent.”
“Thanks for letting us hang around, Sandy,” Logan said. “Let’s get Corey Simmons back up here, and we’ll carry the film equipment down so Kelsey can have her room back.”
“Kelsey, wow. You’d be a great interview!” Chasson said, homing in on her.
“No, no, I wouldn’t be. I’d ruin your documentary.”
“But you’re staying in this room. Have you been scared? Do you sleep with the lights on?”
“It’s a room, just a room. An ordinary room.” Kelsey spoke evenly and smiled as she looked at him.
“Well…anyway. Thanks,” Chasson said, turning to Sandy. “I’ll take that drink, Ms. Holly. In fact, I’ll have two. I’m done for the day!”
They started down the stairs. “I’ll get Corey. He does know how to tote and haul,” Logan told Kelsey. He left her in the hallway, watching the crew take apart the camera and sound system again.
He came back with Corey and they helped carry down the equipment. By then, the young gofer who’d been summoned had arrived; he collected the film, and Kelsey’s room was cleared out at last.
Logan waited with her as she went through her room. She didn’t seem to mind spirits or ghosts at all, but openly resented having Jeff Chasson in her temporary domain. Chasson did have a smarmy charm; Sandy had fallen for it in no time flat. Despite himself, Logan could suddenly envision the hours he and Kelsey had spent together, and it was an almost painful and too-physical memory. He urged himself to abandon the thought. “Let’s run by the Alamo,” he said thickly, “and then get to the station.”
She nodded. “Sorry. I just feel…”
“Invaded?” he asked.
She laughed. “Yes.”
“You have your key.”
“Oh, yes. But then, Sandy has a key, too.”
“True,” he acknowledged. “That’s why you should just come and stay with me.” The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, but as he spoke, he realized he meant them.
Kelsey shook her head. “Sean needs to stay with this documentary. By the same token, I need to stay in Room 207.”
He nodded. “We should get moving,” he told her. The days were too short for everything they had to do. The killer might already have another woman. But at the moment, he needed to move for another reason. He had concentrated too fully on Kelsey.
“The Alamo—and our bench?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He hurried down the stairs. Jeff Chasson, Bernie and Earl Candy were already at the bar, drinking. They were joined by Corey Simmons and several other guests. Chasson was talking to Corey, which didn’t seem to bode well, but there was nothing they could do about it.
They left the Longhorn and headed out.
* * *
Kelsey hadn’t liked Jeff Chasson in her room, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. Even though he’d kept his words and tone careful, there’d been something nearly salacious as he talked about the murders. And she was worried about Sandy, falling for such a slimy manipulator, but Sandy seemed to be smitten.
They walked to the Alamo from the inn.
“Now the rat bastard is talking to Corey Simmons, who wants to be in the documentary. If Chasson finds out that he was in that room, there’ll be hell to pay,” she said to Logan.
“Don’t worry, Corey won’t say anything.”
“You’re sure?”
He grinned. “I’m pretty sure. Corey Simmons is happy as a clam to be in that film. He’s been hired to portray a rugged frontiersman willing to brave the lines of Santa Anna’s army to bring help to his comrades. He’s not going to risk that—or his rodeo career—by admitting he was scared silly in a ‘haunted’ room and had to be saved by a woman.”
“A U.S. Marshal,” she corrected him.
He didn’t reply but grinned again.
“Never mind.” She groaned. He was right about Corey’s frontier mentality.
They reached the Alamo and claimed “their” bench, the place Zachary Chase would expect to find them. He didn’t come right away, of course, and they studied the flow of people around the historic shrine, speaking softly about the case as they waited.
“The actors at the studio seemed wonderful,” Kelsey said. “Of course, we’ve only met a fraction of the people involved. When Sean was out on location, there were hundreds of extras at a time.”
“Yes, but some of those people live out there.”
“There still have to be other people working here, in San Antonio, if they’re doing more scenes at the studio. I mean, they just about have to include the famous scene in which Travis tells the men they can fight or leave. He draws a line in the sand, and James Bowie has himself carried over the line, even though he can’t stand. And there have to be scenes between Santa Anna and the women and children he spared, and Joe, Travis’s slave.”
He nodded and leaned his head back, catching the last rays of the dying sun.
“And we’re taking the word of a ghost that we’re looking for a man in costume,” he said.
“You doubt Zachary?” Kelsey asked, a little horrified.
“Not in the least. But could you begin to explain that to anyone else?”
“No,” she said. “So, we met some nice actors today. Except for Jeff Chasson, and he’s an idiot.”
“I can’t disagree. But being an idiot doesn’t make a man a murderer, nor does the fact that he’s charming—or can pretend to be—make him innocent.”
“Of course not. But…did you see his eyes light up when he talked about Sierra Monte? It gave me chills,” Kelsey said.
“He’s creepy, but that still doesn’t make him a murderer,” Logan responded. Then he straightened. “Here comes Zachary.”
And indeed, their friendly spirit was coming toward them, excusing himself as he moved past others who had no idea he was even there. Sometimes people would pause and look around, as if they felt a strange stirring or the whisper of a chill. Maybe they were really feeling the past and the sacred sorrow of the ground on which they walked.
Zachary made his way to the bench and bowed awkwardly, greeting Kelsey, then took the seat between her and Logan.
“I have kept my eyes open, and I have been vigilant, through the day and through the night,” he assured them. “I’m sorry to say I have nothing to tell you.”
“Nothing is good,” Logan said. “We’re afraid that another young woman is going to be kidnapped and killed. We don’t know why this man is taking them, but I was thinking it might have to do with Rose Langley and the Galveston diamond.”
Zachary Chase frowned. “The Galveston diamond? It disappeared in Galveston, or so I thought. I always heard it had existed, but that in the scuffle—when Matt Meyers took Rose Langley—it was lost in the sand.”
“I believe Rose brought it here,” Kelsey said.
“That’s interesting, that she might have held on to it.” Zachary spoke very quietly.
“You knew Rose, didn’t you?” Logan asked him.
Zachary nodded
, and there was something wistful in his eyes. “I wish…I wish I had been braver. That I had been a better man.”
“In what way?” Kelsey asked gently. “You must have been a very brave man, to have done all that you did.”
He shook his head, gazing down at his hands. Then he raised his eyes, a rueful expression on his face. “You have to remember, we didn’t expect Santa Anna when he came. We thought it would take him much longer to march here. And when it all began—well, we still thought the provisional government would send reinforcements. I wasn’t brave just being at the Alamo. And when we were manning the mission… I went to the Longhorn often. I was in love with Rose,” he admitted.
“You were in love with her?” Logan repeated, and Kelsey realized that this was something he hadn’t known or guessed.
“She was beautiful, and no matter what was done to her, she was so sweet and refined. I wanted to take her away with me. Run in the night. Go somewhere, anywhere.”
“But Santa Anna’s army was coming,” Kelsey said.
“I could’ve made my move. I could have slipped away with her and we could have ridden east, ridden as hard as the wind, and escaped. But Rose was afraid for me. He’d nearly killed her man, Taylor, back in Galveston, and she’d seen him shoot another in cold blood over a poker game. I said we should go, anyway—just get the hell out of Texas. But Rose would tell me no, she wouldn’t risk my life, and God help me, there was cowardice in me, because I didn’t insist.”
“How curious,” Kelsey murmured. “Because, as I said, I believe she did have the diamond. And that, at the cost of her life, she refused to give it to Matt Meyer.”
“What makes you so certain?” Zachary asked.
Kelsey decided not to tell him she’d seen the woman he’d loved, seen her murdered—over and over again, in her dreams and visions.
Logan didn’t say anything; he waited for her to speak.
Kelsey took a deep breath. “I believe she had it, Zachary, because people have searched for it for years and years—to no avail. Of course, time passes, seas and sand change, hurricanes almost wiped out Galveston, and still…I think she had it. I suspect she was waiting for her own courage not to fail her, and then she would have ridden away with you.”
Krewe of Hunters, Volume 2: The Unseen ; The Unholy ; The Unspoken ; The Uninvited Page 16