For Leslie.
Accident in the crypt, accident in the subway…accident in this house?
Like hell.
So if the first two weren’t accidents and everything was connected, then he needed to look at the people around them now and compare those names to the list from the night of the gala. Professor Laymon? Absurd. He had no interest in anything but his work. Still, tomorrow he would assure himself that Laymon had been at the site all day.
Brad? But why?
Jealousy?
Robert Adair had been the one to put him on the case, which seemed to rule him out. Hank Smith? He hated the guy, but that was no reason to suspect him.
And no reason not to.
Was Genevieve the connecting factor?
Or was it Leslie herself? What if someone had actually been trying to kill Leslie, not Matt?
It made no sense. But the idea continued to plague him.
What about Ken Dryer? He was at the site far more often than a police spokesman needed to be, even with Laymon making demands and everyone trying to bow to his wishes, since the women behind him and the Historical Society were some of the wealthiest in the state.
Hank Smith. Ken Dryer. Brad Verdun. Laymon. Robert Adair. They’d all been at the gala. and now they were all revolving in the same social circle again.
He set down his list, startled, as he saw lights go on in the house. He sat for a moment, then hurriedly turned off his dome light and exited his car. As he did so, he noticed something that he hadn’t seen before.
A man.
He had blended with a lamppost at first. But now, with the car light off…
The guy had been standing there all along, watching the house.
He’d thought himself completely hidden. Maybe he’d seen the lights go on, too, and shifted his position, the movement attracting Joe’s attention.
Joe raced toward the lamppost, but the man heard him coming and shot down the street like greased lightning. Joe could run, but the guy had a head start on him. Joe chased him down one street, around the block and toward the site, where he saw a uniformed cop striding along the fence.
“Hey!” he called out.
“Yes?” the officer said, watching calmly as Joe headed toward him.
“I just chased a guy around this way. Did you see him? Did you see anyone running?”
The officer looked him up and down. “I didn’t see anyone running, but who are you? And what are you doing chasing people at this time of night?”
Joe produced his ID.
“Oh, hell, you’re him.”
“Yeah, Matt Connolly’s cousin.”
“Huh?” The guy looked confused. “I just saw your picture with a story about a sting in Vegas. Good work.”
“Thanks. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Mr. Connolly, I swear to you, no one went by here.”
“All right, thanks. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, will you?”
“That’s what they pay me to do.”
Joe just nodded. He’d lost the guy, plain and simple, and he was irritated with himself. He was also growing alarmed. He’d left the house. He’d left Leslie.
He turned and headed back toward the house, running full speed as soon as he was out of the cop’s sight. As he ran, he blessed whatever random bit of luck had caused Leslie to give him the alarm code that day.
As soon as he reached the door, he punched it in quickly, terrified of what he might find on the other side.
There were no doubt plenty of people who would certify her as stark raving mad without question. She was in a reputedly haunted house, all alone, in the dead of night. And she wasn’t content to stay safely in her room.
No, she just had to head down to the basement, where there were still bones interred in the wall.
Wide awake, wearing slippers and a robe, she took one of the lanterns from the kitchen table and went back to the servants’ pantry. She lifted the braid rug, then the hatch door.
For a moment, even she hesitated. The stairs looked as if they led to a giant and eternal black abyss.
But she was certain that she had heard sobbing, a sobbing that tore at her heart.
She held the lantern out before her and started down the steps. The room began to fill with a diffuse light as she approached the bottom of the steps.
She could see Elizabeth’s bones in the wall, but they didn’t frighten her at all. She knew in her heart that she was doing everything she could for Elizabeth.
She wasn’t afraid of ghosts, she realized.
She was afraid of the living.
She reached the bottom of the steps and walked into the center of the room. There was silence for the longest time, but then she heard it again. Sobbing. But try as she might, she couldn’t ascertain where it was coming from. The sound faded before she could figure it out.
Then, to her astonishment, she heard something else. Footsteps, then two bangs. A door being opened and closed?
And then…
Silence.
She waited, not breathing. But still, she could hear nothing at all.
Elizabeth’s empty-eyed skull stared at her in the strange lamplight.
Then she heard footsteps above her and froze.
“Leslie?”
She exhaled at last. It was Joe.
“Down here!” she called to him.
“You’re back in the basement?” He sound incredulous. In a moment, he joined her.
“Joe, what are you doing here?” she asked, trembling.
“I saw the lights go on.”
She smiled. “God, I’m sorry. I never meant to alarm you.”
“What are you doing in the basement—now?”
“I heard crying.”
“Crying?”
She opened her mouth, suddenly not knowing what to say. She didn’t want him to know that she was convinced she was hearing the heartfelt sobs of a ghost. He was beginning to trust in her, but…
“I thought I heard something.”
“So you came down here alone?” His tone was harsh, but he seemed to be trembling a little himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” he demanded. He walked forward, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “What am I going to do?”
“Joe, it’s okay. You can’t get to the basement except through the house.”
He was silent.
“Joe?” She pulled slightly away.
He looked down at her. “Leslie, someone was out there watching the house,” he told her.
She looked up at him in alarm.
“I chased him, but he got away.”
“Who was it?”
“If I knew, I’d have every cop in the city on his tail.”
She had to smile at that. “Joe, I’m not sure we can have someone arrested for watching the house.”
“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” he asked.
She nodded, heading up the stairs, with him in her wake. There was no sense in trying to get him to stay down there with her. Whatever she had been hearing, it had stopped, at least for now.
She didn’t want to stay in the servants’ pantry, either. She quickly walked back into the main kitchen. Joe followed her.
“What time is it, anyway?” she asked. “Honestly, I’m so sorry. You’re sleeping in your car to begin with, and then this. You must think I’m trying to torture you.”
“It’s okay.”
“Actually, it’s not,” she murmured. “It’s five…pretty early, huh?” It was, and she was exhausted.
“Joe, there’s another room upstairs that they keep for the Historical Society workers—it doesn’t open to the public. It’s all made up. Why don’t you try to grab a few hours’ sleep? I’ll do the same.”
He arched a brow. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I promise I won’t run out on you.”
He hesitated. “All right. I guess it’s g
oing to be a long day tomorrow. Today. Whatever.”
He followed her up to the second level, where she pointed out the door to the extra bedroom. He nodded, a smile on his lips. “Good night. And lock your door.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Precisely,” he teased. Then, “Seriously, lock your bedroom door whenever you go to sleep, okay? Please.”
“All right,” she agreed. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
They went into their separate rooms. Leslie didn’t think she would be able to sleep. Then she prayed that she would.
She did.
Sadly, she didn’t dream. And she only woke up a few hours later because the morning light was streaming in on her face and there was activity below.
She flew out of bed. Wrapped in her robe, barefoot, she walked out to the landing. Melissa was there, along with Professor Laymon, Brad and several grad students walking in carrying wooden crates.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Brad called up at her cheerfully.
“I’ll be right down.”
“Good morning,” Melissa said. She winked, then hurried halfway up the stairs as the others returned to the task of taking equipment toward the back of the house. “He’s gone,” she whispered.
“What?”
Melissa winked again. “Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me. I looked for his car, and he’s gone.”
“Oh…you mean Joe?”
“Of course.”
“Melissa, he was in the extra bedroom.”
“Sure. But it’s okay. My lips are sealed, I swear.” She mimed zipping her lips.
Leslie rolled her eyes, then headed back to her room to shower and dress.
By the time she headed downstairs, she was greeted by an astounding surprise. For a moment she couldn’t imagine who the tall white-haired man and slim blond woman talking to Professor Laymon might be. Then, while she was still halfway up the stairs, she recognized them. “Adam! Nikki!” she cried with pleasure.
Nikki turned, her delicate features forming an instant smile. Adam had his calm, fatherly look in place.
She didn’t know who to hug first. “I can’t believe you’re here. Why are you here?” she demanded, hugging them each twice for good measure.
“I guess you three really are old friends,” Professor Laymon said dryly. “I’ve been telling them about the remains in the basement,” he went on, then looked pointedly at his watch. “You are working today, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” she assured him. “You’re not just dropping by and leaving, are you?” she asked, looking from Adam to Nikki. “And where’s Brent?” she asked Nikki.
“He couldn’t come. He’s out in Los Angeles at the moment. Adam told me he was coming up here, so I decided to join him,” Nikki said. “I’m meeting Brent out west, but I have tonight.”
“I’m leaving in the morning for London, but I’m here tonight, too,” Adam assured her.
“Great.”
“You didn’t call, so I assume things are going well,” Nikki said.
“Going well? She’s incredible,” Laymon said. “She found a crypt that could have taken us forever to uncover. I’ve been champing at the bit to explore it, quite honestly. A ceiling came down almost immediately, but the workmen have shored everything up now. But, leave it to Leslie, she’s gone and found more bones here.”
“Every discovery is an important one,” Nikki said.
“Well, in this case, I’m trying very hard to see that the lady is given a proper Episcopalian burial,” Leslie said.
“Have you done anything in that direction yet?” Adam asked.
“No, but I’m sure we won’t have any problems.”
“I have an old friend in the church,” Adam said. “I can cut through some of the red tape for you, since I take it you don’t want her sent out of the city?”
Leslie smiled at Adam. The man was a veritable miracle worker.
“Hey, maybe we could move this along some,” Brad said, walking over to join the conversation.
As the introductions were made, Brad kept looking at the two newcomers strangely. “I’ve met you before,” he told Adam. “You were at the hospital last year, when Leslie…”
“Yes, I was. Good to actually meet you,” Adam said, shaking Brad’s hand.
“Why don’t you guys take a tour of this place this morning, then grab some lunch, and I’ll be back by late afternoon,” Leslie suggested to Adam and Nikki.
“I love tours,” Nikki said.
“She gives ghost tours in New Orleans,” Leslie explained.
“I thought she worked for Mr. Harrison,” Brad said.
“I do research. Adam has researchers working all over the country,” Nikki said.
Brad continued to look suspicious, and Leslie decided that he must be feeling proprietorial. A half hour earlier, he would have been certain he knew all her friends, and she suspected he wasn’t enjoying knowing he’d been wrong.
That guess proved to be correct. Down in the basement, the crates were ready, the tool boxes were open, and work had begun. Time had taken its bitter toll on the remains. Laymon had already given her a speech about how the removal of the bones should have been videotaped, but out of respect for her feelings, he had decided not to allow filming in the basement until after the remains had been taken away. After Nikki thanked him, he left to go back to the work he considered important, exploring the crypt. Leslie and Brad were busy at the delicate work of preparing the skeleton for removal. Down here, conditions hadn’t been kind. There were a few patches of hair on the skull and a few bits of fabric so blackened by time that they were barely identifiable as cotton.
“Are we test-tubing anything?” Brad asked her.
“No. Let’s just get her a real burial. Please?”
“You know, someone with more power could step in on top of us.”
“I have a feeling they won’t.”
“Because of your friend?”
“Adam, you mean?”
“Who is that guy?”
“An old friend.” Well, Adam was old, even if she hadn’t actually known him all that long.
“I see. He has that air about him.”
“What air?”
“Like a guy who speaks softly but somehow everyone knows he’s carrying a really big stick.”
Leslie shrugged. “He owns his own company, and he’s done work for the government.”
Brad laughed. “He doesn’t look like an assassin.”
“That’s because he’s not an assassin.”
“Then what does he do for the government?”
“Research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Historical, of course. Hand me that brush, please.”
“You’re evading me.”
“I’m telling you the honest-to-God truth,” she vowed.
He held the brush for a minute, looking at her suspiciously, before finally handing it over.
A few minutes later, as they worked in silence, Brad gasped.
“What?”
“There—on the floor.” He bent down to take a closer look. “I take it you won’t mind if we have this tested?”
“What is it?” she asked.
“The shot that killed her,” Brad said softly.
When Joe got to the site he was glad to find out that Laymon and Brad had already gone on to Hastings House to oversee the removal of the bones by the basement hearth. He didn’t want to see either one of them.
One of the workers directed him to the guard who had been on duty at the gate the day before. He remembered seeing Laymon early in the morning and Brad late in the afternoon.
He went on to question the grad students. They, too, had seen Laymon early and Brad late.
“How about Hank Smith? Was he around yesterday?” Joe asked two of the students, a married couple in their early thirties who had met as undergrads on a dig. It had been a life of digging in the dirt for the two of them ever si
nce.
“Calvin Klein, you mean?” the husband asked with a grin. “The guy with the suits?”
“Right. Him.”
“He hangs around here a lot,” the wife said. “Well, he hangs around for a while, goes to his trailer, comes out, hangs around…who knows what he does?”
“But was he around yesterday?” Joe asked.
They looked at each other, thinking. “I get busy with a dig, and…” The husband lifted his hands apologetically.
“No,” the wife said decisively. “I know I didn’t see him. I actually look for him every day.”
“Wendy!” her husband said, surprised and hurt.
“It’s his clothes, Cal. I love to see what he’s going to wear next.”
“Were any of the cops around yesterday?” Joe asked.
They both stared at him. Cal cleared his throat. “Take a look around. There are always a ton of cops.”
“I’m thinking of Robert Adair, older guy, heavy, but all muscle. And the good-looking one who does the public speaking.”
“Did you see either of them?” Wendy asked Cal.
“I don’t think so,” Cal said.
“I’m not sure about the older guy, but I didn’t see the good-looking one.”
“You’re sure?” Joe asked.
“I would have noticed,” Wendy said.
“Oh, so it’s not just the clothes?” Cal asked wryly.
Joe left them to their friendly bickering and went on, still trying to put the pieces together in his mind.
Leslie was anxious about how Elizabeth’s bones were being treated, but she was equally anxious to spend time alone with Adam and Nikki. For now, though, there was nothing more she could do for the evening. The bones were safely crated, and she and Brad had secured some of the fabric and surrounding earth for testing. In the morning, they would have to make a trip to the morgue, but once the remains were officially aged, Elizabeth could take her place in hallowed ground.
Leslie tried hard not to be rude to Brad, though she was aware that he was angling for an invitation to join her and her friends. She gave him a quick hug. “Finish up with the tools, will you, please? I want to spend as much time as I can in with Adam and Nikki, and they both have to leave tomorrow.”
“Sure. You guys going barhopping?”
“No, we’re a sedate crowd.”