Darkest Journey (25 page)

“But I'm skipping ahead. In the nineteenth century Natchez flourished, with her share of great plantations, just as there are throughout the South. But, as I explained yesterday, everyone knew control of the river was crucial once the Civil War began. New Orleans fell in 1862, and Natchez surrendered soon after, thus sparing herself the destruction of war and ensuring the safety of so much of what you'll see today. I've just simplified about three hundred years of history, but I'll go into more depth as the day goes on.”

Jonathan looked straight at Ethan as he directed his people to their buses. Ethan met his eyes in return, and Jonathan nodded, as if to say he felt free to do his job, knowing
they
were on the job, as well.

Thor had called ahead for a rental car, and it was waiting for them as they went ashore. “You drive,” he said, tossing Ethan the keys. “I'm from the land of ice and snow. Driving in all this heat might be the death of me.”

Ethan grinned as he caught the keys in midair. Thor was not only smart, he was the size of a Norse god. Definitely a good man to have at his back.

They heard their destination before they saw it; Doggone It was located on several acres just beyond the city limits.

The bays, howls, yips and barks of what Ethan estimated to be a couple hundred dogs filled the air as they neared the compound.

“I've got to commend the group's dedication,” Thor said. “No animal will be destroyed. It's a hell of a good goal.”

They entered a tiled and absolutely spotless reception area and were greeted by a young woman with the words
Kathryn, Doggone It Dog-Loving Volunteer
embroidered on the pocket of her shirt. She ushered them into an office for their scheduled meeting with William C. Hayworth, director of the charity.

Hayworth shook their hands and offered them seats in front of his desk. The man's office was filled with pictures of dogs—all kinds of dogs—posing with the volunteers who had helped them back to health or into forever homes.

“This is a great cause,” Thor told Hayworth.

The man beamed. “Thank you. I understand this visit isn't social, that it has something to do with Mr. Hickory and Mr. Corley, so how can I help you? They were wonderful men, a big part of the work we do here. I admit I'm more than a little curious as to why you're enjoying a Mississippi cruise instead of scouring every street in St. Francisville for clues.”

“The parish has an excellent detective handling the investigation there,” Ethan said. “Detective Randall Laurent. He's following every local lead. But because we suspect that the men were killed because of something to do with the many interests and activities they shared, that means we need to look farther afield than St. Francisville.”

“You think their work saving dogs got them killed?” Hayworth asked incredulously.

“Not saving dogs per se, but maybe doing something in the course of that work that upset someone else deeply enough to kill them,” Thor said.

Hayworth shook his head. “I knew them both well, and I can't think of any reason why someone would have held their work here against them. They were both comfortable financially but not rich. What made them invaluable to our mission was their energy. Albion Corley encouraged his students to volunteer here, and several have continued their efforts even after graduation. And Hickory...he took in older dogs with not much time left but who needed some love. They both donated money, of course, but it was their encouragement to others to give both money and effort that helped us the most.” He sighed. “I just don't see how any of that could have gotten them killed.”

“We don't know that it did. We're still investigating all angles. Mr. Corley and Mr. Hickory were involved in a number of causes,” Ethan said. “Still, we have to ask. Did you ever see them argue with anyone around here? Do you have any neighbors who are against you having your facility here? Do you know if the victims ever fought with anyone on behalf of this place?”

Hayworth shook his head, clearly at a loss. “My neighbors are a dairy farm and a fellow who raises goats for cheese. Our dogs have never once gotten out or caused an incident with either one. We're friends. We all belong to the Masonic lodge together.”

Ethan glanced at Thor.

“Are you aware if either Corley or Hickory had any difficulties with anyone at the lodge?” Thor asked.

Hayworth looked annoyed at that. “Oh, please! I'm so tired of seeing Masons portrayed as conspiracists and killers in the movies. Neither one was a member of my lodge here.” He hesitated, thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I did run into both men recently at one of our ‘Walk the dog for the dogs' functions, and they were pretty upset about something that was going on.”

“Did you hear the specifics of what they were arguing about?” Thor asked.

Hayworth shook his head. “They weren't arguing, or not with each other, anyway. They said they were going to hold firm, and they'd take it as high in the courts as they could go. But what it was about, I don't know. When I asked, Albion just said they'd be happy to fill me in as soon as it was all settled.”

Ethan asked him if he could remember anything else, but he couldn't, so the agents gave him their cards, telling him to call them directly if he should think of anything.

When they were leaving, a slim young woman entered with a huge male husky tugging at the leash while she futilely asked him to heel. She might as well have been asking him to jump over the moon, for all the attention the dog was paying her. He started baying and jumping, nearly taking her down.

“Hey, fella,” Thor said, moving forward, grabbing the leash and rescuing the woman. “Sit.
Sit.
”

To Ethan's combined surprise and amusement, the dog immediately obeyed.

“Thank you,” the woman said. “He's beautiful, but he's so big. I have to bring him back. I just can't keep him.”

Hayworth came hurrying out of his office. He looked distressed. “Oh, no,” he murmured.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Hayworth, so sorry. But I just can't keep Loki,” she said.

Hayworth looked genuinely distressed. “Of course, I understand. Loki is... I just don't know what we're going to do.” He noticed that Ethan and Thor were still there. “This is our third return on Loki. Every time he comes back it gets harder for us to place him.”

“Mr. Hayworth, don't worry. If you can hold on to Loki until we've solved this case and I can head back home, I'll take him,” Thor said.

Hayworth looked at him with combined surprise and gratitude. “You're not just saying that?”

“I'll be back for him, I promise. I'm from Alaska. Huskies are my breed. In fact, if you'd like, I'll be happy to see him back to his kennel, get to know him a little bit more,” Thor said.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much of a relief all this is,” Hayworth said, then pointed. “This way.”

Thor followed him, leading Loki.

When they returned, Hayworth was talking away about all Loki's wonderful qualities. Thor met Ethan's eyes and nodded toward the door to indicate that they could leave.

“What are you? A dog whisperer?” Ethan asked him once they were out of earshot.

Thor grinned. “My sister and her husband raise huskies. I've always been good with them, and I already have one husky at home, so what's one more?”

“I'm glad. That's a beautiful dog.” As they reached the car Ethan turned the conversation back to the case. “Did Hayworth remember anything more that might help us?” he asked.

“I think so,” Thor said. “I'm hoping tomorrow will tell us more. There's a lot of oil up my way, so I've seen it before, the constant conflict between energy and the environment. We need energy to live, but we also need to preserve the environment. A lot of people on both sides get heated up about it. But heated up enough to kill? Maybe. A lot depends on money, the way it does for pretty much anything else. So I'm hoping we'll learn more when we get to Vicksburg and talk to the Sane Energy people.”

“So how does Hayworth figure into it?”

“While we were walking Loki back, he remembered hearing our vics talking more than once about the environment and the river. He said they knew they had to tackle some pretty difficult people on the issue, and they had to get others—including the courts—involved. Hayworth thinks that's what they were talking about at that dog-walk thing, and that they were planning on meeting someone in particular who might be able to help them.”

“Did he say who?”

Thor glanced at him unhappily. “You're not going to like this,” he said. “Jonathan Moreau.”

* * *

Jude McCoy was sitting in the Eagle View dining room and watching the Southern Belles rehearse their performance for that evening. At first Charlie thought he must get bored, viewing them day after day, but then she realized that he was getting paid to watch his girlfriend do what she loved and was probably completely happy with his assignment.

He seemed laid-back, completely relaxed, as he sat there, but when she looked closely, she could see how aware he was of every move they made and every staff member coming and going through the dining room doors.

His watchfulness made her feel safe, and she had to admit, after the incident with the knife, safe was a really good feeling, even though she didn't expect anything to happen aboard ship.

When they finished the rehearsal, they headed to lunch. The day was beautiful and, even better, uneventful. Ethan checked in with Jude at one point to say they were heading back and would be there in plenty of time for the second dinner seating.

After lunch, Jude and Alexi walked Charlie to her cabin. Jude waited until she was inside, told her to lock the door and reminded her that they were right next door.

Charlie thanked him. She was glad for the escort, but she was also still convinced nothing was going to happen to her while she was aboard the
Journey
.

She'd stepped into the shower when she heard the sound. It was faint, not as if someone was knocking at the bathroom door, but rather as if they were brushing something against it.

She turned off the water and listened. The sound had stopped, but unease was racing through her system.

She clenched her teeth, picturing her cell phone where it lay on the bed. Mental note—she mocked herself—remember to bring cell phone into the bathroom next time.

There was nothing else, no other sound. She waited, listening, for what seemed like forever. Finally, wrapped in a towel, she drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the cabin. There was no one there. She wondered what the hell she had heard—or if she had actually heard anything at all.

Feeling unnerved and extremely vulnerable in her towel, Charlie dressed quickly.

As soon as she had clothes on, she picked up her phone to give Clara a call. Thor was on shore with Ethan, so Clara would be alone, too. Charlie felt a bit silly, but even so, she could ask Clara to open the door and watch the hall so she could run the few feet to her friend's cabin.

But she never dialed, because suddenly she heard the strange brushing sound again, this time against her cabin door. For a few seconds fear, primal and paralyzing, ripped through her.

Pulling herself together, she moved carefully to the door to look out the peephole.

And then she saw him.

He hadn't knocked because he couldn't knock. And he couldn't knock because he was a ghost.

It was the doctor from the dining room.

Charlie was sure she didn't really need to open the door for him, but she opened it anyway. He was from a long-ago era. In his day, a man would never enter a lady's cabin without an invitation. Actually, given that she was there alone, he was probably uncomfortable about entering at all.

And yet...

He'd been around for generations. He must have seen about everything by now.

None of that mattered, of course. What mattered was what he could tell her.

She quickly opened the door. “Come in, please,” she said.

He entered, and she swiftly closed and locked the door, then indicated the chair at the dressing table. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, miss,” he said politely.

“I've seen you every night,” she told him, taking a seat herself. “I was hoping you would speak with me.”

“Yes,” he said softly, a slight crackle in his voice.

He was so quiet that she was certain no one else would be able to hear him, even if they were standing outside in the hall with their ear against the door.

“Two men were murdered,” she said. “I believe it either had something to do with the recent reenactment here or that the killer was aboard that day and maybe even learned something that made him realize murder was his only option.”

“They were good men,” the doctor said somberly. “Very good men. I watched the reenactment, and I particularly watched them. I was proud of the job they did. That was an important day but also a hard one.” He appeared to wince. “Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Captain Ellsworth Derue, miss. United States Medical Corps. I was aboard when the Johnny Rebs held the boat. They were decent to me and gave me what they had to treat the men. I was proud of the reenactment because it told the story well, and because all those involved that day were good men, didn't matter what color they wore—or what color they
were
.”

Charlie wasn't sure how to reply. “I'm glad,” she said softly. “And also so sorry for all those who died in the war and on this ship.”

“You have to understand, we all—whichever side we fought on—thought we were patriots.”

“I do understand,” Charlie said. “My father—”

“Your father is Jonathan Moreau. We've watched him many times, with a great deal of pride,” Captain Derue said.