Krewe of Hunters, Volume 3: The Night Is WatchingThe Night Is AliveThe Night Is Forever

by Heather Graham

  “Blunt? Perhaps. Not much else to say at this point, though.” He turned to look at her. “Whoever is doing this has to be in your group. And you did the best thing you could have done—stopping all sessions until Aaron’s back. If Aaron makes it back.”

  Olivia gripped the wheel and glanced his way quickly. “First of all, canceling our sessions wasn’t entirely my choice. And what do you mean, if Aaron makes it back? He looked great. They’re just keeping him for observation.”

  “He’s keen to get out of the hospital. He almost died, Olivia. According to him, he heard a ‘mosquito’ buzz and went down immediately after that. He’s not a stupid man. He listened to what Frank and I had to say, but he just wanted to see Sandra and get out. The sheriff’s department doesn’t have the manpower to put a guard on everyone at the Horse Farm, so I’m hoping he and Sandra stay together. For now, Aaron is fine. However, I don’t know what’ll happen when they release him—even if Sandra never lets him out of her sight.”

  “You’re really scaring the hell out of me,” Olivia muttered.

  “There’s more.”

  “What?”

  “Someone had an image of the general on his horse out in the forest. I don’t know much about art, but it’s on some kind of cheesecloth, which, I assume, would make it look ghostly in the right light. Frank Vine was the one to find it. That’s good, because it means he’s bought into our suspicions about what’s going on.”

  “I don’t understand. An artist drew a picture on gauzy cloth—and put it in the forest? Why?”

  “Because if you’re stumbling around at night or in the early morning—when the light’s hazy—you’d think you were seeing the general.”

  “But...wouldn’t you check to see if it was real?” Olivia asked.

  He grinned at her. “No, not most people. Most people would run like hell!”

  Olivia nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, so what would the image of the general in the forest have to do with someone attacking Aaron at the stream? And are you sure Aaron was attacked?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “No, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but anything else is unlikely. Aaron might just happen to have a little wound the size of an insect sting near the base of his neck. And I’ll admit I’m not one hundred percent sure of the connection between those two events—Aaron’s so-called accident and Mariah’s discovery—either.” He shrugged. “Maybe Mariah simply imagined that she heard the general speaking and then happened to wander into the woods where she found an image of him—and the torn-up carcass of a cow. Like I said, it’s unlikely, but...”

  “It is possible,” Olivia said a little stiffly.

  She pulled into her driveway and let out a little cry of dismay. Dustin frowned, looking toward the entry.

  There was a note on the door.

  “The alarm company came and went,” Olivia said. “I forgot all about them.”

  “So did I,” he told her. “Don’t worry. We’ll just reschedule them.”

  “I’d have liked to get the alarm system in today. Funny, I’ve lived by myself for several years and I’ve never been afraid. But now...”

  “Let’s call them right away,” Dustin suggested.

  “And after that?”

  “I have a few other calls to make. And for what it’s worth—I won’t be leaving. But we’ll put some faith in Sammy, too. He does seem to be an excellent watchdog.”

  Sammy was apparently attempting to prove it by barking ferociously. As they got out of the car, the dog bolted past them and went dashing around the house.

  “What is the matter with that dog?” Olivia asked, worried.

  “Dogs are sensitive. He senses that something’s going on,” Dustin answered. He smiled at her. “Hey, come on. You know that. You’re a therapist who works with animals.”

  “Yeah,” she said huskily. “I know he’s not barking for nothing, and that scares me even more.”

  She hurried over to the house, taking the sticker the alarm company had left before opening the door. Sammy came rushing back and swept by their legs as they entered.

  “Want me to call the alarm people?” he asked.

  “I can do it.”

  “Of course you can—but I’m happy to do it. I thought maybe you’d forage through the kitchen and find food.”

  Olivia laughed at that. “Okay, you get on the phone. I’ll look for food.”

  He sat in the living room and put a call through to the alarm company. They were exceptionally pleasant, completely understanding of an emergency and happy to reschedule for later that week.

  He could hear pots and pans and cutlery being moved about in the kitchen, so he went ahead and called the office. He spoke to Jackson Crow first, filling him in, and then he was put through to Malachi, who was eager to hear what was going on.

  “I told Jackson it’s pretty much out in the open now,” he explained to Malachi. “And the local lawman has been okay. I thought he was going to be difficult at first, but he came around. We’re dealing with Deputy Sheriff Frank Vine and Deputy Jimmy Callahan. Vine knows he doesn’t have the manpower to work on this. Oh, the medical examiner is all right, too. I brought him the bits of dart and the pieces of tree bark I took from the woods, and I’m waiting on a report from him now.”

  Malachi put him on hold while he had a quick discussion in the office. A moment later, he was back on the line. “I’m heading out there with Abby, Sloan and Jane. We don’t want to make an announcement or anything like that. We’ll just show up. We should be in by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Good,” Dustin said. “Let us know when you’re in the vicinity. I’ll keep you posted on where we are.”

  As he ended the call, Olivia walked out of the kitchen. “There’s a casserole in the oven. I’ll be back down in ten. Oh, the guest room is across from mine upstairs. Make yourself at home.”

  He nodded, looking up at her. They were both the worse for wear, but even covered in trail dust with bedraggled hair, Olivia Gordon was...striking.

  “Thanks.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “Malachi and some of the Krewe will be here tomorrow,” he told her.

  “Really?” She seemed pleased. And yet, he thought, not as pleased as she would’ve been a few days earlier.

  Maybe he’d grown on her.

  “That’s great,” she said. “I mean...considering all the variables.”

  “Yeah, it’s good news.”

  “Not that you don’t know what you’re doing. You obviously do. You saved Aaron’s life this morning,” she said fervently.

  “Anyone with a few courses in emergency medicine could’ve done what I did—and I’m sure that you would have acted if I hadn’t been there.”

  “The thing is you found Aaron. You saved him. Will you excuse me? I’ll be down in a bit.”

  She turned and ran up the stairs. He found his backpack by the door and hiked it onto his shoulders, then followed her up. The door to the left was hers, he knew. He pushed open the opposite door and went into the guest room, where he set his backpack on the bed. He headed into the shower, trying not to think about the fact that she was across the hall.

  Naked.

  While the heat of the water felt wonderful, he didn’t want to tarry. And he didn’t—the hot water lasted a few minutes, and then it went cold. He stepped out, swearing softly, and remembered that while the bathroom was probably fairly new and up-to-date, the house itself was very old. Hot water just wasn’t going to last that long, not with two people showering at the same time.

  He dressed, got his computer from his bag and left the room.

  Sammy lay in the upstairs hallway between the two rooms, as if watching over both of them.

  “You’re a good old boy,” Dustin said, bending to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

 
; As he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, Sammy followed him. Dustin saw a bag of dog treats on the counter and offered him one. “You tried hard, didn’t you? You knew something wasn’t right the day Marcus was killed. I think you went after the killer. But the killer wasn’t really supplied with the customary murder weapons. No gun, no knife. So you were probably whacked with a good-size rock or maybe a branch. But you went up to the killer—close enough to get a walloping—because it was someone you trusted, huh?”

  “Talking to yourself?” Olivia asked, sweeping into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp. She was wearing a casual cotton halter dress and sandals. There was something compelling about her—the naturalness of her movements, her lack of makeup, the tempting scent of her soap.

  “Sammy is an excellent listener.”

  “And you were discussing...?”

  He smiled grimly. “Sammy and me? We were discussing my certainty that someone involved with the Horse Farm is doing this. I think Sammy trusted the person who hurt him.”

  “But if someone at the Horse Farm hurt him, wouldn’t he be afraid of that person now?”

  “Yes—unless the person threw something at him from a distance, maybe as Sammy approached. In that case, it’s possible he never associated the person with the action and the pain it caused him.”

  She walked past him and into the kitchen, pulling a casserole from the oven. “It’s just hamburger and potatoes, with a soup mix and crisp onion topping. Not very gourmet.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything better,” he said.

  Not true. He’d never smelled anything as good as her.

  “I’ll bring it out. There’s a dining table set up in the family room. You can eat and play on your computer at the same time,” she told him.

  She carried the casserole into the spacious back room. The table appeared to date from the early 1800s, and there were heat pads on it for protection. “Agent Blake, have a seat,” she said, placing the casserole on one of the pads.

  He was wondering how she’d managed anything other than the casserole, but she also put out a platter of raw vegetables and dip, along with glasses of sweet tea, plates and silverware.

  He’d opened the computer while she set up.

  She closed it as she joined him. “I’m starving, and I know you are, too.”

  “I am, and we can talk, which is almost as good as staring at a computer screen.”

  “Almost?”

  He was pretty sure he actually flushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that the facts and figures I need are in the computer.”

  “Where do you think Marcus has been lately?” she asked.

  “I assume he’s off trying to solve his own murder—except that he could help a lot more by hanging around with us.”

  “He never did like camping,” Olivia said. “Strange, because he loved nature so much. He loved a walk or a ride through the hills or along the stream.” She looked away quickly and he realized she was close to tears. You could accept the death of a loved one, but it often took time to really remember the good times and be able to smile and laugh at a memory.

  “Well, he’s still with us,” he reminded her softly. “Somewhere,” he added. “But let’s go back to that day. So Marcus was at the Horse Farm and we know he definitely went in to see Aaron. We know they talked. He probably talked to Andrew and Sydney, too, because they would’ve been working at the stables.”

  “Yes, and we know that because Frank spoke to them. They had casual conversations with Marcus fairly early in the day. I had a session in the morning. When I’m with my groups, I’m not paying attention to much else. As gentle as our horses are, they’re still horses. I keep an eye on every interaction. Not to mention that I’m talking most of the time. So, the upshot is that I wasn’t really watching.”

  “When did Sammy come back hurt?”

  “During the lunch break. It’s from twelve to one.”

  “Who was around during the break that day?”

  “Hmm. You’re not going to like this. I had some paperwork to do so I was at my desk. I saw Drew when I brought in Trickster. He was cleaning Gargantua’s hooves. I think he’d been checking all their shoes.”

  “Did you see Sydney?”

  “Not until Aaron talked about how concerned he was once Sammy came limping back. I remember Sydney called the vet right away—and our vet is wonderful. He came out and made a house call, then took Sammy with him because he wanted to keep him still for the night. He was afraid Sammy might tear out his stitches. By the time the vet left, we were all worried about Marcus. We started calling him and looking for him, then we mounted up and headed out on a search. Everyone except Sandra. We needed someone to stay at the house. Oh—we’d called Frank Vine. He gave us a spiel about Marcus being a grown man, but Aaron insisted that something was wrong. Because of Sammy, you see. Sammy would never have left Marcus.”

  Dustin was glad to hear her memories of the day; for one, listening to her, he was able to eat. And he’d been famished. But now she was waiting for him to respond.

  “As far as you know, any one of the others could have been out in the woods during the lunch break?”

  “I suppose so. I wasn’t keeping track. And we were focused on Sammy and on the fact that Marcus seemed to be missing.”

  “Someone could still have slipped through the cracks.”

  “Have you eliminated anyone?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay, but if you were going to eliminate someone, I’m assuming it would be Aaron.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Dustin! He almost died.”

  “Almost.”

  She shook her head and groaned. “Seriously?”

  “If I were going to eliminate someone, I’d say Sydney and Drew.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like them.”

  “Now, there’s a good reason for you. I like everyone I work with—most of the time. And you have to realize it might not be someone involved with the Horse Farm. You could be wrong.”

  “I could be—but I’m not.”

  “You’re confident.”

  “Yes.”

  “Arrogant, really.”

  “No, let’s be kind. Go back to confident.”

  She began to pick up their dishes, and he rose to help. As she moved into the kitchen she asked, “Who, then? Mason? His greatest flaw is his self-regard—but he’s still a good therapist. Mariah loves history, is almost obsessed with it, but that doesn’t seem like much of a flaw. Sandra—well, okay, she can be bitchy. I had my head in the clouds about her and Aaron. I mean, I had no idea there was an affair going on. But if they’re in love, and I think they are, it sure doesn’t make sense that she’d try to hurt him, does it? Anyway, Aaron is really a doll. He’s always patient and never loses his temper. As you say, Sydney and Drew are great. They’re both low-key. Drew works with the boys from Parsonage House a lot, while Sydney is more of a loner. He’s the sweetest man on earth, but he does tend to like animals better than people. I don’t really hold that against him. And...you did suspect Aaron.”

  He stood behind her at the sink. His arms were almost around her as he set down their glasses. He had to step away. He’d barely heard what she’d said; he’d been breathing in the scent of her hair.

  He cleared his throat. “They all have clean backgrounds,” he said. He paused. “None of them have any charges against them, no criminal history or official complaints.”

  “Does any of that matter?”

  “I don’t know, but finding out everything we can about all of them is important.”

  The dishes were done; the kitchen was clean.

  “I’ve got to go outside with Sammy,” she said. “Usually I’d just let him
out, but tonight...”

  “We’ll go with him.”

  They walked to the front and unlocked the door, waiting for Sammy, who came running. Olivia stood on the porch, with Dustin just behind her.

  “Sammy, stay in the front, please. Do what you need to do and come back in, okay?”

  The dog barked as if he understood her every word.

  Maybe he did.

  When they were back inside, Dustin watched her lock the door.

  “I wish we hadn’t missed the alarm company,” she said anxiously.

  “It’s okay. We have a dedicated watchdog—and I sleep with a big gun beside me.”

  She smiled at that, then yawned. “I...guess I’ll go on up. Like I said before, make yourself at home.”

  She turned quickly and ran up the stairs.

  Dustin double-checked the door. He walked through the house, checking all the windows but, of course, they remained bolted tight. The way the dog had behaved earlier disturbed him, though. He was pretty sure someone had been at the house—someone other than the mailman or the people from the alarm company.

  Satisfied that no locks had been compromised, he returned to the back porch and his computer and tried to focus on the histories of the people involved. He needed to go deeper into their backgrounds, searching for motives, but he had a hard time concentrating. Restless, he stood and called the information line at the hospital; Aaron’s condition was described as “good.”

  Next, he called Frank Vine, who seemed grumpy when he answered. Okay, it was nighttime, and it had been a long day. Yes, Frank had been in touch with the officers on duty at the hospital and everything was fine; Sandra Cheever was sleeping in a chair next to Aaron. Frank grumbled a little more about the overtime it was going to cost him and hung up.

  He’d barely put his cell phone away when it rang. He could tell from his call display that it was Ellie, the young clerk at Willis House. “Hi, Agent Blake. I don’t mean to bother you, but we were just a bit worried. We knew you were off on the camping trip, but then we hadn’t heard from you.... It’s pretty quiet out here, so we tend to worry about other people’s business.”

  He smiled. “I’m fine, Ellie. But I won’t be back tonight. Don’t worry—and please don’t let my room go, okay?”