"Daniel, you think someone was trying to hurt Mom, don't you?"
Daniel looked up into Sarah's eyes. She was angry, and she was afraid, but she was also thinking. Her intelligence and spirit made him want to reach out to her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that the bad guys were going to suffer for what they'd done. Trouble was, he wasn't certain who the bad guys were anymore.
"I think she was frightened."
"By the men who killed Graham?"
"Probably."
"You think they were trying to kill her?"
Daniel swallowed. "No." He waited, hoping he had some other choice than what he was about to say. "I think they were trying to kill you."
Sarah blanched but she never stopped rubbing her mother's hand and arm. She looked away from Daniel only when the emergency truck pulled into the front yard and two men rushed over and gently moved her away. Still stunned from Daniel's statement, she stumbled over to a tallow tree and leaned against the trunk. She could remember that tree from when she was a child, climbing its tender young branches and earning a scolding from her father.
"How is she?" Daniel asked the paramedics who gave a quick examination of Mrs. Covington as they loaded her onto a stretcher.
"Heartbeat is regular." The paramedic shrugged. "We'll know more when we run some tests. Jerry's going to try to bring her around."
As he spoke, one of the paramedics broke a small vial under Mora's nose. She struggled on the stretcher, lifting her hands as if to ward off a blow.
"Cal!" The one word was a cry of complete anguish. "Oh, Cal, I didn't mean to hurt you. Don't!"
"Easy, Mrs. Covington," the paramedic said as he eased her back to the stretcher. He wore a grin of satisfaction. "That ammonia brought her around," he said to his companion. Neither of the men saw Sarah, still standing at the tree. Every bit of color drained from her face. Daniel told the rescue squad that they would follow the ambulance to the hospital and waved them on their way before he went to Sarah.
"She was running from my father's ghost." Sarah's voice was dull.
"You're jumping to conclusions." Daniel knew he would have assumed the same thing, but it wasn't the only possibility.
"When Dad died, something broke in my mother. She became paranoid, unsure of herself, afraid of everything. The FBI questioned her over and over again. She almost had a breakdown. And I never understood why. She changed from a beautiful woman who laughed and played and planned jokes and parties to a rabbity woman who was afraid of her own shadow."
"Sarah, some people— "
"Why would she be afraid of my father's ghost? Why would anyone be afraid of Dad?"
He took her arms and gently rubbed them. She was cold, too. The morning was brisk even though the sun was shining. "She could have been having a nightmare, some twisted vision of the past. It doesn't mean anything, Sarah, and you're jumping to some conclusions you might well regret."
"There's something here," Sarah insisted.
"I agree, but I'm not certain it's what you think it is. Now take the car to the hospital. That blasted cat is around here somewhere and I'll find him." He lifted her chin so that she had to look at him. "And I'll check the house for some clues. You haven't even considered that maybe someone broke into the house and terrified your mother."
The relief showed in Sarah's eyes first, and then the corners of her mouth. "I love you, Daniel," she whispered before she kissed him tenderly. "I never thought I'd allow myself to care this much for anyone else I could lose, but I love you."
"I'm pretty fond of you, too, kid," Daniel said. He found the flood of emotions difficult to manage. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her away— anywhere where she could laugh and smile and not have to face the pain that surrounded her. The past and her father's death were everywhere she turned, and he knew that they would have to be probed and cleaned, like an old wound, before she could ever heal. But, God, how he wished it was over and done.
Sarah kissed him softly once more. "I'm going to the hospital. If Mom's awake, maybe she can tell us what happened to frighten her."
"Now that's an interesting approach to the mystery, Sherlock," he said, hugging her close. "Ask some questions, look for clues. Who would have thought of such a method?"
"Oh, you." She punched him lightly. But his teasing had done wonders for her. The nightmare images that had washed over her were gone, at least for the moment.
"Hurry on to the hospital." Daniel gave her the keys. "When Mora really comes to, she's going to be frightened and confused. She's going to need you, Sarah."
"I know." Sarah smiled. "And it's perfectly okay." She climbed into the driver's seat and waved as she pulled into traffic.
Daniel's thoughts were still with Sarah and the strange tangle of her family as he glanced around the yard for Familiar.
"Kitty, kitty." He felt a rush of concern. Familiar wasn't the kind of cat to make trouble at a time like this. Where had he gone? He'd been in the car when they'd arrived at the Covington house. "Familiar?" He walked to the front door.
Deep inside the house he heard a drawn-out meow.
"Familiar!" He sighed with a sudden weariness that went deeper than his bones. All he needed was for the cat to decide to play games. Before he entered the open house, he checked the door. There was no sign of a forced entry.
"Kitty, kitty." He called the feline as he'd heard Sarah do it. When there was no response, he walked into the foyer and on into the den to find the black cat.
Familiar was sitting on a sofa in the dimly lighted den. It took Daniel several moments to see him. When he finally discerned the cat's shape, he flipped on a light switch and flooded the room with illumination. Unperturbed, Familiar settled onto a red silk cushion in a room that looked as though it was part of a television stage set from a past era.
"Come on," Daniel said. "We've got to look for clues. If we don't, Sarah's going to lose her mind worrying about her family."
Familiar didn't budge.
"Come on, cat." Daniel moved toward him with capture in mind. Familiar stood and darted from the room toward the kitchen.
"No time for chow," Daniel said, keeping all of the frustration he felt out of his voice. Familiar was a very sensitive animal, but when it came to food, all other issues seemed to grind to a halt.
Daniel heard the cat bounce around the room and scamper down a darkened hallway.
A sense of danger washed over Daniel. He was in Sarah's mother's home, trying to catch Familiar, but he also couldn't help taking in every minute detail of the Covington home. And it was one eerie place. It was as if the world had ended in the 1960's. The furnishings, the decorations, the books on the coffee table, all reflected a past long gone. There wasn't one new piece of furniture in the place.
Hurrying into the kitchen, Daniel unsuccessfully tried not to draw any conclusions. Was Sarah's mother disturbed? Sarah hadn't mentioned the possibility. Maybe it was something that had happened to her after Cal's death. There was plenty about the Covington family he wasn't clear on yet. But the more he saw, the more he wanted to be with Sarah at the hospital.
"Meow!" Familiar's playful voice came from a room down the hallway.
"Damn it, cat, get back in here." Daniel felt his control slipping. His need to be with Sarah increased with each passing moment.
"Meow!" Familiar's silky voice came from the end of the hallway.
"You'd better not be playing a game," Daniel warned him. He hurried toward the room from where Familiar was calling.
He pushed open the last door on the hallway and knew immediately he was in Mora Covington's bedroom. The sense of being an intruder was almost too strong for him to ignore as he hit the switch for the overhead light and finally located Familiar on the dressing table. The cat was pawing at a mirror as if he was playing with his own reflection.
"Great. Sarah's at the hospital and you've gone bonkers on me." Daniel scooped the cat into his arms, unprepared for the writhing mass of claws and t
eeth. Familiar had never, never behaved like such a wild thing! He dropped the slashing fur ball to the dresser and was amazed to see Familiar completely calm as he pawed at the mirror again.
Daniel noticed the pictures tucked into the edge of the silvered glass. Tugging carefully, he pulled out the one Familiar was pawing. In it were two men and two women. One man was Cal Covington and one woman, Mora. She was incredibly beautiful, and the way Cal looked at her would make an innocent girl blush. There was love and hunger in that look, and Mora basked in it. The third man, looking on with an indulgent smile, struck a chord with Daniel. He recognized him almost immediately as Sarah's beloved Uncle Vince, with his arm around a pouting Lucinda Watts.
In a flash, Daniel knew what Sarah had never realized— that Vincent Minton had been drawn to Mora Covington. He might have been a longtime friend of the family, but it was Mora who held him, not Cal, as Sarah had always supposed.
Daniel carefully replaced the picture. "That's a triangle where two sides don't know the third side exists," Daniel said. Mora's words came back to him. She'd said she hadn't meant to hurt Cal. Maybe Mora had been aware of Vincent Minton's feelings for her. Maybe she'd acted on them. Maybe that was why Vincent was always looking out for Sarah. And just maybe that was why Mora was living in a time warp and suffering from a guilty conscience. The pieces clicked into place.
"Meow." Familiar watched the expressions pass over Daniel's face.
"I don't want to be the one to bring this up to Sarah," Daniel said. He saw the ripple effect of what his discovery might mean. If Cal had been aware that Mora was unfaithful to him, he might have become depressed and carelessly lost his life.
An unfaithful wife on top of an FBI investigation would do even the stoutest man in.
"But we don't know that she was unfaithful," Daniel reminded himself and the cat. "We're getting as bad as Sarah, jumping to conclusions all over the place."
He scooped up the cat and held him as he took in the room again. The bed was slightly rumpled, as if Mora had gone to sleep at some point in the night. He noticed the chenille bedspread and the glazed lamp beside the bed. The past. Perhaps a time when Mora and Cal had been happy. They would have been newlyweds with only a dream of Sarah in mind. Sadness touched him and he left the bedroom, taking care to close the door.
Maybe it would be easier for Sarah not to go back. Digging into the past could sometimes turn up things that no one wanted to know about. Skeletons in the closet. Relatives who'd been hung as horse thieves. He sighed and felt Familiar break into a purr against his chest.
"I gave Sarah the keys, big boy. Looks like we'll have to wait here."
"Meow." Familiar wriggled to get free and Daniel put him on the floor. He went straight to the telephone and stared at it.
"I could call and see if the test results are in," Daniel said. He checked his watch. Sarah had been gone for less than an hour.
He withdrew the number to the private lab from his pocket and dialed. Familiar hopped into his lap as he sat at the table and counted the rings. When he finally got an answer, he was already champing at the bit.
Three minutes later he replaced the receiver and automatically began to tug at his hair. All of the pork chops had been sprinkled with a dusting of arsenic. It would have been enough to make everyone who touched them sick as dogs. Possibly even deathly ill. Daniel had expected another poisoning, but something more in line with the ipecac— not a potentially deadly poison. Certainly not one as easily traceable as arsenic.
It wasn't that hard to obtain, but who would do such a thing? He thought back over what little he knew about the poison. In one big dose, it could be fatal, but in small quantities, it often took a long time to have a deadly effect. In the early 1900's, arsenic had been used by society ladies to maintain a pallor that was thought to enhance the porcelain qualities of their skin.
But whoever was at work at Lucinda's party hadn't intended to produce cosmetic results. There was enough to create sickness, and in certain cases, death.
Who and why were the immediate questions.
Suspects immediately popped into his mind. Lucinda Watts had been in the kitchen, as had the serving staff. And Sarah. And…He couldn't think of anyone else, but there had been times when the kitchen was empty. He wanted to kick himself. It had been a good idea to get Sarah to check out the guests, but in doing so, they'd left the kitchen vulnerable.
And someone had taken advantage of that.
Why was a harder question. Why would Lucinda sabotage her own party? That could be answered a million ways, especially in light of the photograph he'd just seen in Mora's bedroom. And the fact that Lucinda might have a motive certainly didn't rule out the possibility that any one of the guests or servants might have done it. He shook his head with the futility of trying to reason it out. And the case was compounded by the murder of Graham Estis. Somehow it all tied together, and Sarah was at the heart of it. That was all he knew for sure.
"While we're waiting for Sarah, let's check out the rest of the house," Daniel said to Familiar. As he slowly got to his feet, Familiar sprang down beside him and gave his shin a playful nip.
* * *
BUREAU BOY is finally beginning to see the complexity of this picture. It's like a giant coil, with everything spiraling out from the core of the past. I haven't gotten everything worked out, not completely, but I think this trip to Mississippi was a good move. I won't get into a discussion about my traveling accommodations— stuffed into an overnight bag like a pair of dirty socks. But at least I got here, and I didn't have to travel with the luggage.
There's something that's been troubling me since we left that deputy's house. I'm sure Bureau Boy noticed it, but he hasn't commented. Probably his inferior brain hasn't linked it all up yet. But Graham Estis was either shot while he was asleep, or he knew the person who shot him. How do I know this? Because there was no sign of a struggle. And I believe he knew the killer. Why? Because the bedside light was still on, as if he'd been up talking with someone. Which is what I think happened.
Like Bureau Boy, I believe Graham's killer came straight over here to Mama Covington's house and scared her half to death. The question is, how? Mama Covington was in a housedress, but her hair was combed, as if she'd been awake. My best guess is that she wasn't in the yard more than an hour. Maybe daybreak. Strange that none of the neighbors noticed her. Why didn't someone see Mora? Or at least hear her if she screamed? That's a very good question, and I know Agent Dubonet will address it, as soon as it occurs to him. Or as soon as I figure out a way to make him think of it.
He's poking around the house now. Careful not to touch anything. All of the doors look good. If someone entered the house without permission, they came through an unlocked door. Nothing is disturbed. Jeez, maybe these lamps are glued to the table. Like a television set. I keep thinking Lucy and Ricky are going to enter, stage left, and do a skit. They'd be right at home here. Maybe we should check next door and see if the Mertzes are around.
Or maybe we should just check next door. Ask a few pertinent questions, like, did you see or hear anything unusual? I'll try a claw at the portal. Ah, that got Daniel's attention. Remarkable how the sound of shredding wood can make a human snap to attention. That and claws sharpening in the sofa. Better than any alarm clock ever invented. And so much more fun on those dull and rainy afternoons when a cat has to be confined inside.
Well, holy Toledo, here comes Dolly herself, pulling into the yard in a blast of gravel. Who's in the front seat with her? Damn! There's the phone.
* * *
"WAIT!" Sarah rushed across the yard, leaving her passenger in the car. "Let me answer it." She gave Daniel's shoulder a squeeze as she ran by to the ringing phone. Taking just a second to catch her breath, she said hello in a voice that sounded very timid, very afraid.
"Mora?" The voice carried a slightly French accent.
She held the receiver away from her ear so that Daniel could hear.
"Mora. We have to tal
k."
Very carefully she replaced the receiver.
"Did you recognize the voice?" Daniel asked. He couldn't be certain. He'd heard it before, but he couldn't be sure where.
"Yes." Sarah swallowed. Never in a million years had she expected to hear that voice. "It was Chef André."
Chapter Seventeen
"I'm fine now," Mora assured Sarah and Daniel as they settled her onto the sofa. Sarah pushed an ottoman under her feet and got the afghan from the back of the sofa to warm her up. "I wasn't hurt and I couldn't stay in that hospital. I told them I had to be home."
"How about some tea?" Sarah asked. The hospital had released Mora after determining that she'd stumbled and fallen, more than likely striking her head on the ground. The tests she'd grudgingly allowed them to run had shown she was in good health.
"Tea would be fine." Mora watched her daughter with more than a little anxiety. "Then we have to talk."
"Yes," Sarah agreed, "we do, Mom."
Daniel, with Familiar at his side, had taken a stand a few feet behind the women. Conflicting emotions pulled at him. He liked Mora Covington, or at least the little he'd seen of her. She was a retiring woman with a very easy manner. But the evidence he'd uncovered in the house led him to believe that she knew far more than she'd ever revealed. He could easily suppose that, over the years, her silence had cost her plenty. She was so diminished from the beautiful young woman he'd seen in the photographs. Sarah was right. It was as if someone, or something, had pulled the life out of her.
Sarah returned with a tray of teacups, cookies, and a steaming pot. In a matter of minutes she had everyone served.
"Tell me what's going on with you two," Mora said without preamble. "I heard the gossip in the hospital emergency room. Graham Estis was murdered. It isn't just a coincidence that you were asking about him, is it?"
"No." Daniel answered when Sarah hesitated. "We came down here to see Mr. Estis. We were hoping he could clear up some matters of the past for us."
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