“Good eye,” one of the techs said.
He sloshed through the stream to collect the rifle and then glanced at Tyler. “We’ll comb this part of the woods,” he said. “We’ll get back to you with anything we have, down to gum wrappers if there are any.”
Tyler thanked him, then led Allison back through the woods to his car, parked in front of the cabin. “Let’s get back to Philly,” he said.
She was hesitant as they drove. “Tyler, maybe I should go away. People around me, even people I hardly know, seem to wind up dead or in the hospital.”
“What? Go back to your house? No. Don’t you see, Allison? That would mean one or two of us having to patrol your house to make sure no one’s figured out a way to break in. Besides, you’ve been around all these people for years. Any one of our suspects could have a key.”
“I meant fly away somewhere,” she said.
“If that would keep you safe, I’d have you do it in a second. But this person is a step ahead. He’d find you, Allison. He’d go after you. He found Standish.”
“I just feel that…”
He reached out, squeezing her hand. “Yeah, I know,” he said huskily. “But we need you where you are. I need you with me—where I know I can keep you safe.”
She smiled at that. “I like being…safe,” she told him. “But I can’t stop feeling that I’m a catalyst for others being hurt. And killed.”
“What will solve this is finding out the who. That will prevent more people from being hurt or killed. I think we’re just about onto the why. Our killer knows that, and it’s making him desperate. And when a killer gets desperate, he gets careless.”
She leaned back in the passenger seat, closing her eyes.
When they were a little more than halfway back to the city, Tyler’s phone rang. He asked her to pick it up.
It was Sean, and she put the phone on speaker.
They both listened as Sean told them that Martin Standish was going to make it. “He’s conscious again and clear in his mind. He was knocked out by a massive blow to the head. He would have drowned if you two hadn’t come along when you did.”
“I’m so thankful we did,” Allison said.
“He’s going to have some tests done because it was a pretty nasty blow,” Sean continued. “He says he heard voices calling to him from the woods. At first he was afraid it might have been his daughter, that she’d come up and gotten lost and was wandering through the woods. Then he heard voices that seemed to come from a number of directions. As if the woods were filled with ghosts. He heard another noise and got angry, so he followed it to the stream, thinking he’d be safe. The man is good with a shotgun, from what I’ve been told.”
“And then?” Tyler asked.
“The next thing he knew, he felt a sharp pain against his skull, and he fell into the water. That’s the last he remembered—until he felt Allison ‘kissing’ him,” Sean said.
Tyler smiled. “That must’ve been nice for him.”
“Yeah, the guy has quite a sense of humor for an old coot. You’re not going to believe this. He’s still in pain, but he seems happy now. He says someone’s finally paying attention to him, and he thinks his research is going to change history.”
“It will—but only in our small corner of the world,” Allison said.
“Anyway, Kelsey and I will hang out here,” Sean finished. “It’s not a huge hospital and their security is pretty flimsy. One of us will be in his room at all times. And could you look for that other painting?” he asked. “I know it exists.”
“We’ll do that,” Tyler promised.
* * *
When they reached the Tarleton-Dandridge, Kat was at the morgue, going through the autopsy reports on everyone who’d died at the house.
Jane and Logan were in the salon, where the antique dining table had been turned into a workstation. Julian was with them, trying to move a piece of paper.
He stood, relieved to see Allison. He tried to give her a hug.
She tried to hug him in return. With limited success.
Then she went to take a quick shower and Tyler planned to do the same as soon as she was out.
Logan listened to his report on what they’d discovered, then said he was going to keep searching through the records they’d amassed. “I think you should give Detective Jenson a call. The local police were going to keep tabs on Oxford, Addison, Pierson, Fanning and Lawrence.”
Tyler agreed and made the call. Jenson told him, “Oxford left his house in the ten minutes between my patrol car’s drive-by. Lawrence’s car hasn’t moved. No one’s seen anyone come or go from the Addison house. Pierson had a meeting at a bank downtown. He left his place about twenty minutes ago.” Jenson paused. “I’m not sure how much any of that will help you.”
Tyler thanked him, saying, “It helps.” He related everything about the trip he and Allison had taken to see Martin Standish and what had happened that morning.
“I can double the patrol,” Jenson said. “But it’s hard. We’re not allowed overtime with the current budget cuts.”
“We appreciate whatever you can do.”
It was growing late. Logan ordered food. When Allison was done with the shower, Tyler went in. The hot water felt wonderful; he hadn’t realized how cramped and stiff he was from getting soaked in the cold stream. Fortunately, the water stayed hot just long enough…. When he came out, he felt invigorated.
He knew Allison was with Logan and Jane. Logan was questioning her, once again, about the people she’d worked with at the house.
He went back to the entry and sat down at the bank of screens, rolling through the images quickly to watch the hours since they’d left.
Late in the middle of the night, Lucy Tarleton had appeared. She’d gone to the study and looked in, then hurried through the house to the back.
He wondered if, night after night, she repeated that same circuit. If so, he assumed it meant she was sneaking out of the house, heading over to the stables to get Firewalker and take off into the night, carrying her information to the patriots at Valley Forge.
There had been no other activity.
He felt a touch on his shoulder. “Give it a rest,” Logan said. “Start over in the morning. Standish survived and he has two of the best guards around. Get some sleep.”
Tyler nodded. “Thanks,” he told Logan huskily.
Allison was already upstairs in Lucy’s room. He found her in bed, wide-eyed and waiting for him.
“Should I be here?” she asked.
Tyler felt the day’s tension, his own self-reproach, fall away as if he’d shed an irritating coat. She had that effect on him. It wasn’t that she made him forget; she made him see more clearly.
“I’m grateful you are,” he said, “and there’s nowhere else I think you should be.”
He stripped off his clothing and lay down beside her. He touched her hair softly, looking into the deep blue of her eyes, getting lost in them. “So, the last man you were seeing was something of a rock star, huh?”
“It was a while ago now,” she said.
“What was he like?”
“Good guy, nice guy, but for the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me. He’d plan to pick me up and wouldn’t show. At that point I knew about the alcohol but not about the drugs. Later on, I went to a few Narcotics Anonymous meetings. And I knew he cared about me, but he refused to acknowledge the addictions. I ended the relationship. I don’t know what he’s doing now. I pray he’s alive.”
He stroked her hair. “It’s a terrible thing, addiction,” he told her, drawing her close.
She lay against him for a minute in silence, a silence that seemed relaxed and comfortable. Pulling her closer he kissed the top of her head.
She stirred, and he kissed her again. He felt her naked body slide against his, and her slightest touch was instant arousal.
He loved the fact that she could make the world go away. And that she could so easily return to it. H
e found himself wondering if she’d ever leave her beloved Philadelphia. Virginia wasn’t that far, but…
He forgot the past and future as they made love.
And then they slept peacefully together.
In the middle of the night, he felt her move. He woke as she slipped out from the covers and stood there for a moment, framed in the pale moonlight that filtered through the drapes.
She walked away from him. Tyler rose quickly, watching her; she wasn’t awake, he thought. She wasn’t aware of him.
For a few seconds he was afraid she’d take off through the night stark naked. She didn’t. She went to the foot of the bed and pulled on her robe, although she didn’t bother with slippers. She hurried across the room to the wall where there was nothing—nothing that he could see. She bent to pick up something, cradling it tenderly against her body. She paused, head bent, as if she was praying, and then hurried to the door.
He grabbed his own robe, throwing it on. Allison opened the door and eased through. In the hallway she paused again, as if listening for others in the household.
She walked carefully down the stairs and went to stand in the entrance to the study, looking into the darkened room. Then she ran down the hallway to the back door. The alarm was keyed; she wasn’t going to stop to put in the code.
He realized that to Allison, at that moment, there was no code. She was seeing the house through the memory of another woman.
Lucy Tarleton.
He slipped ahead of her, tapping in the alarm code just in time. Allison opened the back door and stepped into the night.
She moved forward and handed whatever she was carrying to someone who was invisible to him.
A second later she stepped back, tears in her eyes.
Tyler felt as if a rush of wind swept by him.
Then Allison burst into tears and sank to the ground.
17
By then, the others were up. Tyler bent down beside Allison, drawing her to her feet. He brought an arm around her.
“She gave the baby away. She carried her baby out in the middle of the night and she gave him away,” Allison said.
“I know. I saw,” Tyler told her.
She looked baffled. “It’s true. It’s really true. She gave the baby to the Leigh family, my family, and all these years, none of us had any idea.”
“As we’ve said many times, history is always told by the victors,” Tyler said. “I suppose Lucy’s patriot family didn’t want it known she’d had a bastard child—especially since the baby’s father was one of the enemy. It ruined the romance and drama of her heroism in their eyes.”
“But what about Bradley? He must have known. Do you think that’s what sent him into a frenzy—why he killed her?” Allison asked.
“Hey, let’s get inside. It’s cold out here,” Jane said.
Kat was just inside the door. “Do you suppose that’s why people have been killed through the years?” she asked. “I studied those autopsy reports inside and out. The deaths look like they were accidental, but…faulty wiring caused the college student’s death? At a historic property that’s inspected all the time? Or tripping down the stairs?”
“Could this be the reason?” Tyler gestured at Allison. “I think we’re looking for a truly obsessed killer who is devious, as well. And if—” He paused, aware that everyone was watching him. “And if it’s because Allison really is a descendent of Lucy Tarleton, she’s the one who matters. That would point to Cherry Addison. Not to mention the fact that her husband is an artist and she could have gotten him to paint a replica portrait.”
“Then we announce tomorrow that we suspect Allison Leigh is a descendent of Lucy Tarleton’s,” Logan said. “We make an announcement to the media—and see what crawls out of the woodwork.”
“Will that make the killer more desperate?” Jane asked. “Or will it just mean that the truth is out—and he’ll disappear and we’ll never know who he is?”
“Maybe we should make the announcement to the surviving guides and board members first,” Kat suggested.
“Yes,” Tyler agreed.
“Okay, we’ll set it up for tomorrow night,” Logan said. “During the day, we need to watch the board. Whoever was in the woods with Martin Standish is going to want to know if he survived or not. I left word with the hospital to report his condition as critical. We’ll keep an eye on the board—and on Jason and Annette—and plan on having them over for after-dinner coffee. We’ll present this information to them and see what kind of reaction we get.”
“I don’t think that’s the motive,” Allison said, wiping her face. She shrugged. “I mean, I don’t believe people were killed because of Lucy’s baby. There’s another possible spin to this story. Maybe the baby wasn’t Beast Bradley’s child, but Stewart Douglas’s. I can’t tell anyone, other than you, that I saw and acted out what happened the night Lucy gave her baby away. She sensed danger in the house. If she was afraid Beast Bradley would kill not just her but the child, as well, that would make her actions more heroic.”
“So, the only person who might be distressed by the evidence that Lucy did have an illegitimate child would be…Cherry,” Kat said.
“If that’s not the reason for the murders, what is?” Tyler asked, frustrated.
“I say we tell the world we’re going to have Lucy disinterred so we can do DNA tests on her and Allison, and prove it to all and sundry,” Logan said. “I’d like to see how Cherry takes the news.”
“We don’t really have to dig her up, do we?” Allison asked.
“I think that’ll be your choice in the end,” Logan told her. “For the moment, it’s a carrot…dangled in someone’s face.” He smiled. “If you’re game to try it.”
“I guess I’m game for anything at this point.”
Julian had been standing by Jane. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I need to know the truth, Allison. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t want anyone else hurt. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I need…”
“Justice,” Tyler said. “We seek justice. For the living—and the dead.”
* * *
Allison was nervous the next morning but she called Jason Lawrence and Annette Fanning while Logan phoned Cherry, Ethan Oxford and Nathan Pierson. They explained that they were going to talk to those most closely associated with the house before giving new information to the press. Annette and Jason both sounded curious and nothing more.
Tyler suggested they go to the hospital and check on Artie Dixon’s condition. Tyler sent Jane and Kat on a drive out to Valley Forge to meet with local police—and to check that nothing at Martin Standish’s little museum had been touched.
At the hospital, Haley Dixon looked more worn than ever. Once again, Tyler coaxed her into coming to the cafeteria with him, while Allison sat down and held Dixon’s hand.
A young woman poked her head in and introduced herself as Dixon’s nurse for the day, telling her the LPN’s name was on the board, if she needed assistance. “We monitor the vitals at all times, of course, out at the nurses’ station, but hit the button if you need us.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve had all kinds of codes going today—reds and greens. Those are hostile or combative patients. You wouldn’t believe how many people come in for help and then want to knock out their doctors and nurses!”
Allison smiled sympathetically and thanked her. As she sat down, she heard the warning, “Code green!” over the loudspeaker. Nurses and orderlies were running down the hall.
Allison concentrated on Artie Dixon, talking to him quietly and earnestly, asking him to speak to her with his mind. He did, but he was still obsessed with the painting. “Lies—what we see is all lies,” Dixon told her.
“We believe there are two paintings, Mr. Dixon. And one of them is a false image, used to distract or perhaps hypnotize the watcher. Someone changes the painting.”
“No,” Dixon seemed to whisper. “The painting. I believe it is false. I believe it’s all lies.”
A nu
rse came into the room. At first, Allison was so intent on Artie Dixon that she didn’t pay attention. Then, as the person in the scrubs began to flick a needle of medication to insert in the IV, Allison noticed that the nurse was wearing a cap and had a large air mask over his or her face.
A feeling of unease crept over her.
She rose abruptly. The nurses didn’t usually come in dressed as if they were entering a surgery or intensive care.
“What is that?” she asked.
She screamed when the “nurse” turned, the needle raised—ready to shove it in her chest.
Allison panicked and pushed at the bed. It was heavy, but she pushed it far enough to catch the person in the thighs.
“Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
The hospital seemed eerily silent.
The “nurse” was regaining his or her balance, but Allison had nothing with which to fight—other than her handbag. She slammed it across her would-be attacker’s face and flew out into the hall.
The hall was empty. She could hear her attacker, heavy-footed, coming after her as the loudspeaker announced, “Code Red, Code Green. Code Red, Code Green, Neuro Section twelve!”
There was no one else around because they were all answering the code calls. And Allison had a feeling that those calls were rigged.
She paused in the hall. Which way? Where should she go?
She started toward the elevators and then turned back; the person in the surgical garb was standing outside the room, dripping needle held high in a gloved hand.
She didn’t know what was in the needle.
She was sure it was lethal.
She ran toward the elevators, aware that the person was running behind her.
Allison reached the elevator bank and slammed all the buttons. She didn’t care if she went up or down—just so long as she could go somewhere.
She turned back. Her attacker was gaining on her.
She slammed the buttons again. An elevator door opened.
And Tyler stepped out. She threw herself in his arms, hysterically trying to explain that someone was behind her.
“Where, Allison, where?” he demanded.
Krewe of Hunters, Volume 2: The Unseen ; The Unholy ; The Unspoken ; The Uninvited Page 109