Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (31 page)

"Is that why you were so anxious that we get in here? The fact
that you were friends with the Stones, and you're so familiar with
the place?"

"More or less," Adam said.

Darcy was slightly troubled. Adam never lied to her, and she
didn't think that he was lying then. She just didn't think that he
was telling her the whole story.

But she didn't press the point because he said, "When you
returned to the house, you came back to this room with Matt, I take
it."

He took her by surprise, and she was certain that she instantly
blushed. "Right," she said.

"And then... nothing else?''

"Nothing else," she said, and it was only a small lie. There had
been that awful feeling for a moment that she was going to relive
history in more than a dream. The passion...

Then the violence.

Except that Matt wasn't violent.

"Adam, I need to get back into that dream. I need to see more
clearly. I don't have any faces, and yet something that I do see
but don't recognize is nagging at me terribly, and I think that
it's the answer to the dilemma."

Adam nodded. ' 'Hypnotism is the best tool. But before we go
into it, I want to run through the video and sound tapes. I'll take
them to my room and take a look-there's probably nothing, if you
were in a dream state. Why don't you take a little break? Watch
television, read a book, go for a walk."

He wanted to study the tapes alone, that much was obvious.
And she agreed with him. There wasn't going to be anything on the
tapes.

"Sure." Darcy went to the machines and got him the tapes.
"Whatever you do, don't forget that we're meeting downstairs at
twelve-thirty."

"I won't."

When he left the room, Darcy headed back downstairs. Penny must
have been in her office, and there was no sign of Clara,
either.

She walked on out to the stables, just to see the horses. As her
eyes adjusted to the light, she was startled to see a form, a man
standing by one of the stalls.

"Hey, Darcy, did you want to go riding?"

It was Carter. She exhaled, amazed to realize that she had been
frightened.

"No...I just thought I'd come and give the fellows a few pats,"
Darcy said. She walked over to him. The name-plate on the stall
where he stood identified its occupant as Midnight Blue. Naturally,
the horse was so deep an ebony in color it might have been
blue.

"This your guy?" Darcy asked.

"I don't own any of them. But when I ride here, he's my fellow,"
Carter told her.

"He's beautiful."

"Yes, he is, isn't he? You wouldn't believe it, but Matt found
him working on a hack line up in the mountains. He was underfed,
and pathetic looking. But a fine horse, and Matt knew it. Brought
him here, and Sam looked after him. That was a few years ago. Look
at him now! Old Midnight is a gorgeous fellow, great riding
horse."

"Well, I'm glad he's here," Darcy said. She leaned against the
stall, studying Carter. "Thought you were busy this morning."

He shook his head. "I was supposed to meet with the construction
boss over at some property I bought. The man bailed on me."

"Ah," she said. "It's strange to think that you have your own
property. You seem so much a part of Melody House."

"It's easy to become a part of Melody House," Carter said.
"There's something about that old sense of Southern hospitality
here. And it's true, I've been around a heck of a long time. I like
Stoneyville."

"And Delilah Dey?" Darcy teased.

He shrugged, smiling. "She's darned cute. She's not you, of
course, but I knew right off that you were a loss. Matt beat me
out, again."

She shook her head. "Carter, I can't see where you feel you have
any problems in life. From what Penny says, you've had a major run
of love affairs."

"But the right one hasn't come along," he said.

"That's hard in life for everyone, huh?"

"Um." He leaned against the wood, studying her. "People can be
so deceptive, as well. Take Lavinia- Matt's ex. She was stunning,
sophisticated, and sweet as molasses when she first arrived. She
was down with friends to do some antique hunting, met Penny in
town, and Penny dragged her here for a ghost tour. Lavinia met
Matt, and suddenly, she wasn't leaving. Lord, but they were
gorgeous together. Then she turned into the Witch of the West,
thinking Matt could drop anything at any time, and take off with
her. All he had to do was be polite to another woman, and Lavinia
went into a tantrum. They were something, though. Hot as fire one
minute, ready to kill one another the next. Funny, though, right
after the divorce, it seemed they'd become friends. But now...hell,
we haven't heard from her in years. Strange, she was going to come
down to arrange some big financial social party here...but then she
never did. And we never heard from her again."

"Sometimes it's best when the past is really behind us," Darcy
said with a shrug.

"Don't worry, you're nothing like her, not really," Carter
said, rubbing his beard, and studying her with an amused smile.

"I wasn't worried."

"You do have her hair."

"Hey-there are lots of redheads in the world."

"She was tall and elegant, too."

"But I'm not a socialite, by any stretch of the
imagination," Darcy said. "And anyway... I like Matt. I like
you all. But I live a strange life. And few people can really
handle it."

"You really can see what others can't?" Carter asked.

"Carter, it's impossible to explain. I don't have a crystal
ball. I can't really conjure any visions. Sometimes I see, and
sometimes, I don't."

He was silent, then said, "Darcy, I wish that you'd leave
here."

"Carter, I can't believe that you're not on my side!"

"I am on your side. I think you're gorgeous and adorable,
and you don't really freak me out at all. But...I don't know. I
just don't feel that you're...safe here."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just not a good place for redheads. Matt is a great
guy, but...maybe he's not good for you. And maybe Melody House does
have some kind of evil in it, but since we don't see it, we're not
hurt by it. And you may be."

"Carter, please, I'm not afraid of ghosts."

He turned to her, setting both hands on her shoulders. "Darcy,
you're a very brave young woman. Truly. Beautiful, assured,
absolutely incredible. But Melody House...I have to say it. I
really believe you should leave. Because... because you've
become too involved, for one."

"Too involved?" she echoed. He seemed so sincere, despite the
fact that he had mocked the idea of ghosts so much himself.

"With Matt. Darcy, you can only get hurt," Carter warned
softly.

She nodded, and placed both her hands over his where they lay on
her shoulders. She gave them a squeeze, then extricated herself
from his hold.

"Thanks, Carter."

"Don't get me wrong-he is a great guy."

"Just not for me, right?"

"There is that Lavinia thing," Carter said. "Too bad you
couldn't have met her. But then, well, you know. She's
disappeared."

"I'll be fine, Carter. But thank you so much for caring."

She turned to leave.

"Darcy!"

She turned back.

"I don't mean this strangely, but...I love Matt. I think he's
basically one of the finest men I've ever met. I think you're
pretty great, too. And maybe...maybe this place just isn't very
good for you. Please, like I said...I just care about both of
you."

"Sure. Thanks, Carter."

She left then, without him calling her back. The
conversation had been very strange, and unnerving.

He'd talked in such a strange, roundabout way. Not that his
words hadn't been evident. Matt was his friend, his very good
friend.

So...

If there was something wrong about Matt, he'd never come out and
say so.

Just how loyal was he as a friend?

Had he been making implications that something had gone
seriously wrong with Lavinia, even after the divorce?

That was too far beyond ridiculous. To suggest that
Lavinia hadn't been heard from-
because something had
happened to her!

And yet...

As she walked back to the house, she couldn't help
remembering the strange sensation she had felt the night
before.

Passion...

And then violence.

______ 15___

The ceremony for the skull was sadly beautiful.

The minister's name was Todd Bellamy, and he was a tall trim
fellow with graying hair, and a voice that was clear, resonant, and
soothing.

Despite the fact that the family had moved from the area eons
ago, and the old family stones had eroded with time so that they
were almost impossible to read, records had set the workers digging
in the right area. Matt told them all that the original wooden
coffin had decayed, and so the skull had been given its own
twenty-first-century metal box, and would be lowered to join the
bones at what would be approximately head level.

And so, as it was lowered into the ground, Reverend Bellamy said
a prayer, and gave a small speech.

"May all the sins of the past find forgiveness, and as she sits
in the warmth and glow of her maker, may Amy find the grace of
forgiveness herself. Her time on this earth was brief and fragile,
and stolen from her in the sadness of betrayal. In His grace, Amy
must surely find peace, and in that peace, grant it to the one who
so cruelly wronged her life. So it is that those who faced evil on
earth will face the greatest rewards of Heaven, and there, surely,
Amy has found her happiness and love. If you will all bow your
heads...?"

Bellamy went into a series of prayers for thedead. Darcy bowed
her head, but found herself looking around the cemetery.

It was a beautiful old place that was still attached to the
church. There were majestic angels guarding tombs, while many of
the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century headstones offered up
grim carvings of death heads and grim reapers. By night, she was
certain, the place would carry an ethereal atmosphere, and most
people would certainly consider it eerie.

Even now, though it was a summer's day, storm clouds were moving
down from the mountains. When they had first arrived, the sun had
lit the place, and it offered the historic charm that brought many
to such churches and cemeteries.

Now, the darkening sky changed it to a brooding
atmosphere, reminiscent of many a Hollywood horror film.
Still, no one seemed to notice too much-those in this area were
well accustomed to the old and historic.

With her head slightly bowed, Darcy felt a small twinge, noting
that to her side, farther from the church, there was a canopy. A
velvet liner remained beneath it, and chairs still surrounded an
open grave.

The dead were still being interred in this cemetery.

Darcy found the idea traditional and charming.

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes..." the reverend intoned.

Matt had planned the ceremony with determined haste, and so, the
crowd was small. Naturally, the household was there. Sam, Clara,
Penny, Carter, Clint, Matt, Adam, and herself. Delilah Dey had
come, naturally representing the city council, Jason Johnstone had
come-specifically at Matt's invitation-and a tall, skinny fellow-an
Ichabod Crane look-alike-who claimed to be a writer was there as
well. Mae had come, delighted to be part of the event, and even
Mrs. O'Hara had come from the library. There were a few people in
attendance that Darcy didn't recognize, but somehow, Matt had
managed to keep it all very low key.

"Amen!" the reverend said. "Go in peace, and may the blessing of
God be with you and yours."

The ceremony was officially over. The last word had barely left
the reverend's lips before the Ichabod-man turned to Darcy.

"Miss Tremayne?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Max Aubry from the local paper. First of all, welcome
to Stoneyville. We're delighted to have you. It's my understanding
you found the skull. Would you mind talking to me for a few
minutes?" he asked.

Darcy didn't get a chance to answer. Clint was suddenly behind
her like a bulldog, hazel eyes flashing. "Aubry, she minds."

"What is this, the Stone kingdom?" Aubry said. "Clint, this is
America. We've got freedom of the press here. Let the lady answer
herself."

"I can talk to him, Clint, I'll be all right," Darcy said.

"There, see? She wants to talk," Aubry said.

Clint looked at Darcy, as if offering her a warning, but he
lifted his arms, shrugged, turned and walked away.

"Darcy, dear!" Penny called. "We're going to head down to the
Wayside Inn for some lunch."

"Go ahead, I'll be along," Darcy called. She saw that Matt and
Adam were both talking to the minister; Carter had Delilah Dey by
the arm and they were reading old tombstones.

"Perhaps we could move over by the old oak, and your Dobermans
won't be nipping at my heels," Aubry said.

She smiled, confident that whether or not this fellow was a
sensationalist journalist, she could handle him.

"Careful, the ground is rough around here," Aubry warned.

The oak was near the open grave. Darcy found herself curious
about its intended inhabitant.

"Mrs. Morrison," Aubry said.

"Pardon?"

"Old lady Morrison. She was a hundred and one on her last
birthday. Died a few days ago in her sleep, surrounded by loving
family. That's the way to go, I do say," Aubry said.

"Certainly."

"So!" They stood behind the oak. "You're a psychic investigator.
Did you see the skull in a vision? How did you do it? Do ghosts
talk to you? People are fascinated by such phenomena, you
know."

"Actually, Mr. Aubry, I was able to find the skull because
I looked up the history of the legend at the library. After
that...it was a matter of deducing where the murder took place, and
how far a skull might have moved through time and the
elements."