Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (37 page)

"Not true at all."

"What's not true?" Carter had arrived as well. Entering behind
Clint, he too looked Harry Smith over, and whistled. "Man,
you look like the real thing."

"So do you, once you're in uniform," Harry reminded him.

"So what's going on? Why would Penny be swearing? What bee is in
her bonnet?" Clint asked, and once again, Harry Smith went through
the explanation.

"Probably was frat boys," Carter said, shrugging. "And those
bones will show up somewhere again. Maybe on the field on one of
the college campuses."

"Matt isn't taking it as a prank," Harry said. "He's going after
the offenders, with a vengeance."

"Sure, right now, because he's really pissed off," Clint said.
"But I know Matt. If he doesn't get them right away, he'll know
that it's more important to protect and serve the living, and go
after the real criminals. Then the bones will show up."

"I don't know," Carter mused. "I can see how a thing like this
might make him look bad to all the big boys he knows up in the D.C.
area."

"He must be running on empty, too," Penny said. "After
last night... well, the rest of us have all slept really late. He
has to be exhausted."

"He'll be fine, you know Matt," Clint said. "That is something,
though, isn't it? We're all feeling this incredible elation,
this triumph, because Darcy found the skeleton. And here we
are-bones all gone in just a matter of hours. Easy come, easy go.
Sadly, that's life. Hey, Harry, what are you doing all dressed up
today? The reenactment isn't until tomorrow."

"I came to take out old Tannenbaum," Harry said. "I haven't been
out on him for a while. I just want to make sure that he and I are
still real good friends, before we get out in front of the crowds
tomorrow."

"Sure. I'll go saddle him up for you," Clint said.

"I lead one of the cavalry charges," Harry told Darcy. "You ever
been to one of these things?"

"No. I've been to a lot of the national parks, but I've never
really seen a reenactment," Darcy told him.

"Well, want to take a ride with me, young lady? I'll show you
where it's all taking place. Sorry-you do ride?"

"I love to ride. And if you'll give me a minute to get dressed,
I'd be happy to go with you. Unless..." She hesitated and
looked at Penny.

"You can go to the mortuary if you want, if you think you can
help," Penny said. "But I'd be staying the hell away from Matt
myself this morning. Let him handle things the way the police would
do it, first."

"Hell! Did you hear that? My, my, Penny Sawyer swearing!" Carter
teased. "But seriously, I'd stay away from Matt right now,
too."

"You saddle Tannebaum for Harry, and I'll get Nellie ready for a
ride," Clint said.

"There's really nothing else you can do at the moment,"
Penny told Darcy. "Go with Harry. You'll enjoy it."

Darcy nodded. "Give me just a minute, then."

"Hell, I think I'll go for the ride, too," Carter said.

"Hell, I'll join you, too," Clint said, grinning at Penny.

"I'll be right down," Darcy said.

"No hurry," Harry Smith said. "I'm off the next three days. Take
your time."

"Yes, dear, take your time. I have muffins in the kitchen-how
rude of me. Harry, come on in and have some coffee and muffins."
She looked both Clint and Carter up and down. "And when you
ne'er-do-wells with all that time on your hands have saddled the
horses, you can have coffee and muffins, too."

"Ne'er-do-wells!" Carter protested. "I'm a hardworking
entrepreneur!"

"And I even have some work this evening," Clint said. He winked
at Penny. "You wait and see. You'll be eating your words."

Penny sniffed. "Coffee when the horses are saddled. Darcy, you
take your time. Harry, you come with me."

Darcy ran back up the stairs, but didn't head straight for her
room. She tapped lightly at Adam's door.

He told her to come in, and she found him still in bed.

"I might be getting a cold," he told her sheepishly. "Anyway,
Penny brought me some cold pills and tea and toast awhile ago. I'll
just hang out in here for a few hours."

"Adam, the skeleton was stolen from the mortuary," she said.

"I know. Matt called."

"Oh?"

"Don't worry. He's on it like a hornet."

"Adam, doesn't it seem really suspicious to you?"

"Of course."

"They all seem to think it was a fraternity prank," she said.
"They-Clint, Carter, and the rest of the town, I imagine."

"Sure. They all think that you discovered a skeleton that was
hundreds of years old."

"There was nothing there, right? No jewelry, no remnants
of cloth...nothing?" Darcy asked.

Adam shook his head. "The remains, from what Matt said, were
purely skeletal."

"Still...there would be teeth," she said.

"Yep."

"Adam, do you think it's possible that the skeleton isn't so
old, and therefore someone really wanted to get it back?"

"Darcy, I told you I'd find Lavinia Harper."

"I wasn't particularly implying that it would be Lavinia
Harper."

"Darcy, let's give Matt a chance to be a sheriff, okay?"

"Right, but...if there was a break-in..."

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't it be most feasible that it was done by someone
who definitely knew that the bones were there?"

"Darcy, give Matt a chance."

"Of course." She told him then that she was going riding,
and she would check in on him later.

A few minutes, she was dressed, and she ran downstairs. Penny
had a plate with corn muffins set for her, along with juice and
coffee.

"Did you check in on Adam, dear?" Penny asked her.

"Yes, he's just going to sleep for a bit. Hopefully, he'll feel
some better by this evening."

"Let him get some rest today," Clint said. "He'll want to enjoy
the show tomorrow."

"The reenactments are fun," Carter told Darcy. "You'll see today
when we go riding-there are already a bunch of encampments set up.
Wives come along and dress in antebellum fashion and cook on the
battlefield. Some women dress up as laundresses...and those who
just kind of follow armies, if you know what I mean."

"Prostitutes," Penny said impatiently.

Carter grinned and laughed. "Right. Prostitutes. Since General
Hooker gave his name to one of the current labels for such ladies,
we know that they were in abundance in the Civil War. And, hey, do
you know how many soldiers came down with sexual diseases?"

"No, and we don't want to know," Penny said.

"Well, that's good. I don't really know the number. But a lot,"
Carter said.

"Shall we ride?" Harry asked.

Darcy gulped down the last of her orange juice and stood. "I'm
ready, whenever. Penny, did you want to join us?" she asked.

"Heavens, no! I watched these boys play soldier far too long.
Have a lovely afternoon." She waved them all away, and they headed
out to the stables.

Despite his absolute faith in his own people, Matt
recognized that they were a small-town force. Before he ever
reached Mahoney's himself, he'd put through a call to Randy Newton,
the friend at the FBI who had tested the library floorboard for
him.

While he waited for Randy and his team to arrive, Matt followed
Thayer around the mortuary, seeing where a screen had been broken
in the basement, allowing the thief-or thieves-entry. Mahoney's
desk had been rifled, but it looked like a sloppy job. Nothing had
been taken but the hundred dollars from the petty cash box, while
Mahoney's Rolex, a Christmas present from his wife the year before,
lay untouched right on top of the desk.

The wooden evidence box, filled with dirt and bones, had been
left in one of the viewing rooms, where one of Matt's men would
have picked it up from to drive it on in to Digger at the
museum.

Mahoney was concerned, convinced that they were making far
too much out of an ancient skeleton, and was concerned mat the
police would still be around when the Thompsons arrived for their
great-aunt's funeral that night. Matt could only assure Mahoney
that he'd do his best to collect what he needed, and be out.

Randy Newton was a tall, well-built guy who had made some of the
top scores when he'd been in the academy at Quantico. He'd met Matt
while working on a serial killer case in the outskirts of D.C., a
truly psychotic fellow who had preyed on impoverished prostitutes.
They'd worked together well, and remained friends. Despite the
usual peace and tranquility to be found in Stoneyville, northern
and central Virginia provided havens for criminals who struck in
the bigger cities, and hid out in the countryside. Matt and Randy
had kept up a communications system which had served them both well
in the past.

Randy looked like FBI. He wore the inevitable suit, and
sunglasses, and with his height, build, and dark hair, he emitted
an aura of authority. Even Mahoney welcomed him with something like
awe.

But when they were alone in the viewing room where the box had
been, Randy shook his head. "I don't get it, Matt. I mean, I can
see where you're angry, but hell. This probably is a fraternity
prank. Who the hell would want a bunch of old bones?"

"Randy, there is no guarantee that they're old bones."

"I thought that your psychic had been led to them by a ghost in
a long, flowing white gown."

"Yeah-and there are still lots of white flowing nightgowns
out there."

"Really? I don't remember. I've been married too long. Rita
wears T-shirts." He shrugged. "She used to wear nothing at all, and
that was pretty cool, but then we had the kids.... hey, Matt,
you're not smiling."

"Because I think this is serious."

"Do you know how many known murders I have on my plate right
now, Matt?"

"I can imagine. But Randy, help me out on this. Get your guys to
do the fingerprinting, look for any shoe marks...anything." He
hesitated. "And do me another favor."

"What?"

"Run your files for me. Look for anyone in your missing
persons files who...who just might have disappeared from this
area."

"Matt, I think a bunch of kids stole the bones of a woman
murdered so long ago, there's not a damned thing we can do for
her."

"Randy, help me out here anyway."

"Did your psychic tell you to bring me in?" Randy asked
suspiciously.

"Randy, no. I'm asking a favor."

"All right. You've got it."

"I need the files as quickly as possible."

"Drive up to my office tomorrow. I'll give you everything
I can get."

"Thanks."

"Hey, you're looking frazzled as hell."

"Haven't slept."

Randy cocked his head to one side. "Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.
Hell, I guess they can keep you awake. Go home. Go to sleep. We'll
take over here. And get out before the funeral. Trust me. Go."

Matt didn't argue. He left Mahoney's, and headed straight home.
He could hear Penny in her office when he stepped into the foyer,
but he quickly slipped up the stairs, and crashed straight into his
bed.

In a matter of minutes, he was sound asleep.

The ride was incredibly pleasant.

They headed out toward the north, following the main road for
several miles, then riding into pasture land where canvas tents
dotted the fields. They dismounted from their horses and walked
around the various living history exhibits, visiting the
blacksmith, an officer's tent, a seamstress, a common
soldier's little plot, and the field hospital. Harry Smith
introduced her to dozens of people, but when they came across those
who had read about her in the newspapers, he politely but firmly
found a way to steer her away.

Carter and Clint were old friends with many of the men as well,
and with a few of their friends, they rode on over to the Yankee
camp, where they all teased that she belonged.

Naturally, she reminded them who had won the war.

"Of course," Carter said. "The North had to win. I mean, what
were those fellows thinking, that any man had the right to own
another? It's crazy now. But history."

"And history we shouldn't forget," Clint said. "Things that were
horrible have to be remembered. Hopefully, we learn from our
mistakes. What is that saying? Those who cannot remember the past
are doomed to repeat it?"

"Very true," Harry Smith said. "I fought in the very early
stages of Viet Nam. Any man who has really gone to war knows how
terrible it is. Generals usually do their best to avoid
conflict-politicians are the ones who are most eager for it.
Anyway, don't get me started. Dusk is coming soon. We ought to get
back. Let's take the back fields."

"Sure you want to do that? We may have some fences in the way,"
Clint reminded him.

"I know the way," Harry said.

The ride back was far more beautiful. They never touched a main
road, but traveled around farm fields and pastureland. After one
massive cornfield, they came up a lovely little stream, with the
water dancing over small rocks and boulders.

"Some of the heaviest fighting took place there, in the
cornfield. Just like it was at the battle of Sharpesburg, men and
corn alike were mowed down," Harry said. As they rode, the stream
widened. They came upon a beautiful whitewashed wooden bridge,
spanning the stream between fields and the dirt trail they
rode.

"The bridge is new. The original was destroyed during the
fighting. Dozens of men crashed through it, and died, broken and
battered, on the rocks below," Harry said sadly.

Darcy could well imagine. There was an aura here, one of great
sadness. She closed her eyes for a moment, and heard the
heartrending cry of a wounded man. The lucky ones died instantly,
she thought, because the others had lain with broken bones, in
agony, while the fighting had continued.

She quickly opened her eyes. The memory of pain here was
deep.