Haunted

“Definitely,” Carter said.



“A battle reenactment?” Adam said with interest.



“I’m not so sure it was a battle. It was a major fight, not like Spotsylvania or the Wilderness. But there was cavalry involved, and a few companies, North and South, fought a desperate battle for a little hillock on the water, just off the main road. This year, the anniversary falls on Saturday, and the land is available—privately owned, but rented out to a living history company—and so people are very excited about it. The Wayside Inn is completely booked for the weekend, as is everything near here. It’s great fun.”



“And educational for the kids,” Penny approved.



Carter grinned at Penny. “Wow. She likes me.”



“Silly boy,” Penny said.



“That does sound interesting,” Darcy said. “Where do we go to watch?”



“The main road, just the other side of the forest. Clint and I will take you around. Clint has agreed to be a private in my company this year. We’re short a few fellows.”



“Yeah, they’re all dying off,” Clint said.



“So, we had a few old geezers. Armchair history buffs who have gone on to that great battle in the sky. It’s still living history, and pretty cool,” Carter said.



“Yes, and I agreed to join your company,” Clint said. He stood. “One o’clock for the skull burial, huh? Adam, mind if we take your car? We can all go together that way. That Navigator is great.”



“Sure,” Adam said.



“Where are you off to?” Penny asked him.



“I’m a busy man, Penny—I’ve just had you fooled all these years,” Clint told her.



“I’ve got work to do, too,” Carter said. “We’ll meet in the foyer, say twelve-thirty?”



They all nodded agreement. Both Carter and Clint started to leave. Penny cleared her throat, causing them to pause.



“Dishes. Kitchen,” Penny said.



“Yes, ma’am!” Clint said quickly, saluting her with precision, as if he were practicing for the battle to come.



Darcy leapt to her feet, anxious to get Adam to herself. She picked up her own plate, and a number of the serving platters, telling Adam, “Meet me in the Lee Room.”



Within fifteen minutes, they had extricated themselves from Penny and the kitchen and were sitting together in the Lee Room.



“I saw it all the way through, Adam, last night.”



“Good. So…?” He moved around the room, hunkering down, picking up the plug to the video, which was not in the outlet. “You decided not to tape?”



“The plugs came out after the dream. We might have something on the video.”



“Tell me about it first,” Adam advised, taking the chair in front of the secretary.



“I’ve been in it from both sides,” she said, “that of the victim, and that of the killer. I’ve felt their emotions, but I haven’t seen their faces. Not clearly. But in life, they were very hot and heavy lovers. Then something went wrong. I think that the man did care about the woman, or, at the least, he was absolutely sexually fascinated with her. When he arrived at the house, he was contemplating murder. He arrived, she saw him, they struggled…and he almost stopped. But she had been angry when she’d been in the house alone. Angry, and writing something at the secretary. The murder may have been averted by lust, but then he saw what she had written. And then killed her. Here, on the bed. He had brought a strap of leather with him, but he wound up doing the deed by hand.”



“So, we still don’t know who, but we do know what,” Adam said.



Darcy hesitated. “The ghost beckoned to me after that. She led me out of the room, down the stairs, and outside. I got as far as the smokehouse. Then she disappeared.”



Adam was silent for a minute. “We’ll have to get Matt’s permission to do some digging. And,” he added, wagging a finger at her, “we’re going to have to set a few parameters for you, Darcy. You’re telling me that you followed the ghost down the stairs—and outside?”



She hesitated, then nodded.



“But you didn’t think to get me?”



“Adam, I would have lost her.”



He shook his head. “I’m right down the hall. I should have heard you leaving.”



“It was all right.” She hesitated. “Matt came out.”



“Good.”



“Adam, there was something more. At the smokehouse, when the ghost disappeared, she didn’t slip into a wall or anything. She just…faded. And I felt her sense of fear. Then…I saw a shadow. The shadow of a man, as if he were following, too, but lost her at the smokehouse as well. Either that, or…”



“Or?” Adam demanded.



“He was following me,” Darcy said flatly.



“This shadow was ethereal—or real?”



“I don’t know. Yes, maybe, real. Because I heard footsteps. I felt…stalked.”



“So?” Adam prodded.



“I ran.”



“To the house?”



“To the porch. That’s where I ran into Matt.”



“Are you certain that Matt wasn’t the one who had followed you out? Maybe he came partway to the smokehouse, then turned back,” Adam suggested.



“He said that he wasn’t out there,” Darcy told Adam.



“You don’t sound certain.”



“I am certain—I think,” Darcy said, causing him to smile. “Adam, how well do you know Matt? You were friends with his grandfather, right?”



He smiled. “Yes.” Then he looked a little sheepish. “Once upon a time, Darcy, I was fascinated by history to the extent that I joined a reenacting group. A Pennsylvania group, of course. I was Yankee. Captain of a company that was involved in the skirmish here, at Stoneyville. I met Matt’s granddad then. We would spend long nights on the porch, talking about ‘what ifs.’ He didn’t have a strong belief in the occult or ghosts, but he was willing to admit that things happened in his old place that he couldn’t quite explain. But nothing bad. Never anything that could be construed as dangerous. There were lots of stories about guests seeing a Civil War soldier in the parlor. Now and then, a door would open and close. There would be a chill in the room. He didn’t believe that anything ever happened in the house that couldn’t be explained. As in the one woman who was certain she had seen a soldier probably did see one. It was this time of year, and lots of folks were preparing for the annual reenactment. And the cold…well, it’s an old place. There are drafts. As to the doors opening and closing, it might have been the wind as well. So he enjoyed the stories, but didn’t feel that the place was in any way haunted.”



“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 nameplate 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.”