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The Forbidden

Page 13

by Heather Graham


  “Whatever it is, we’ll search wherever you like,” Bert assured him.

  “Thank you,” Fin said.

  He introduced him to Robert Fryer, Tom Drayton and Avalon. In turn, Bert introduced them to the rest of his team.

  “I’ll take them through,” Fin told the others.

  “I’ll trail behind you, if you don’t mind,” Avalon said.

  “I will, too,” Alana said softly, and it seemed that Robert gave a little shiver again. He didn’t look in her direction, though he did look around as if just a bit puzzled.

  “Robert and I will rehash what we can remember,” Tom said. “We’ll go back over every detail that we can possibly come up with.”

  “Thanks,” Fin said. He looked at Bert. “You may want to drive around, but I thought that if you followed in this path, you’d understand the way my mind is working.”

  “Works for me,” Bert told him.

  Fin retraced his steps, followed closely by the others. When he reached the point where the trail split to the dirt road, he heard the others murmuring that it did seem like a plausible path.

  “I’m going for the metal detector in the bushes, though what metal they might have lost, I don’t know,” a young technician said.

  “Jewelry,” the one woman on the forensics team said. “She might have had her own jewelry.”

  “Or a coin,” the young tech speculated. “After all this time...something metal is all that might have survived.”

  Bert eyed his team. “There’s always the murder weapon. There is the possibility that she was brought here, killed here in the road, cleaned here in the road and then displayed. Though I doubt that,” he said. “I read the report—she hadn’t just been wiped down. She was cleaned, as if bathed.”

  “That’s right,” Fin confirmed.

  “We’ll head back, get the car and bring our equipment here,” Bert said. “We’ll get a better lay of the land, though I think that they must have come off on one of the roads from I-10. They had to know this place, though. Had to know that it was quiet, and that the cameras were a sham.”

  “Anything that we can get will help—we need to stop these guys.”

  “We’re going to move fast,” Bert said, glancing at his watch. “At best, we have about two hours of daylight left.”

  He turned to his crew. “Let’s move,” he said, and the four of them quickly started back through the trail.

  Fin remained where he was, noting that Avalon stood near the trail; she was alone. The ghost of Alana Grimsby Howard was no longer with her.

  When the others had disappeared back into the brush and trees, he headed over to her.

  “Let them get ahead a bit,” she said softly.

  He arched an eyebrow, but waited, as she had asked. A minute later, Alana reappeared, followed by a man of about her own age and an older gentleman; Fin knew that they had to be General Amos Grimsby and Alana’s husband, Arthur Howard. Neither, however, was in uniform. They were dressed in formal suits with jackets, vests and ascots.

  Alana introduced them quickly. “Father, Arthur, this is Miss Avalon Morgan and...Mr. Finley Stirling. Sir, I’m so sorry—I don’t know or remember your proper title,” she told Fin.

  “Fin,” he said, nodding to the two ghostly figures. “And, sir, I believe you are General Amos Grimsby, and, Mr. Howard, I’m afraid I don’t know your proper title.”

  “It was Lieutenant Howard,” the younger man told him. “I go by Artie. You’re with the federal government?” he asked.

  Fin wondered if he was still leery of anything federal.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Thank the Good Lord that there is a federal!” Amos said, shaking his head. “I wept when Mississippi left the Union. States’ rights! Atrocious. All economical, you know. And not that man has gotten any better. I do read, sir, and I listen, and there is solar power available, there are electric cars...but does it become law when something would better the world? No—not when great financial crashes might come from change. Why, man knows not to spew toxic waste into the water, but has he stopped? Not when the almighty dollar rules—”

  “Father,” Alana interrupted softly.

  The general waved a hand in the air. “I’m sorry. You need our help, but you see there’s an old stream down from the rear of the house, a beautiful area. Used to fish there when I was a kid, and when Artie came courting Alana, well, of course, I took him that way and it’s still a favorite place.”

  “The general likes to sit there and contemplate the world,” Artie said, a half smile on his face for the two of them. “He’s watched every step of ‘progress’ since we departed, and I do admit, my father-in-law sees many evils in the world, and might even have some of the answers. I’m sorry—the point here being that we didn’t see these men as Alana saw them. We did see them leaving and I don’t even know how to describe their apparel. They were all in black.” He frowned as he looked at his wife for a minute. “Cat burglars!” he said at last. “They were prepared for disappearing into the night. I don’t know what the fabric was on their faces, but something that conformed to them, like opaque stockings for the face. It was impossible to know their ages, or anything else about them.”

  “We saw them as they left, walking quickly through the trail, complimenting one another on the scene they’d left behind,” the general added.

  “I hope that this helps in some way, though I don’t believe we’ve given you anything,” Alana told them.

  “You have,” Fin assured her.

  “But you had come this way yourself—”

  “But I couldn’t be sure,” he told her. “You’ve helped us immeasurably. And from what I’ve heard, you left behind a wonderful legacy.”

  “We were still wrong,” the general said. “I knew it. I knew that what we were fighting for was wrong, but I went along with it because of my peers, my home, my state. But a man must always stand for what’s right and what’s wrong, when he knows the difference, even if he stands against an ocean of those who do not see. I knew right from wrong.”

  “You learned, sir. Many people do not. And, as I said, your heirs went on to do wonderful things,” Fin told him.

  He nodded. “Maybe any little bit done now may change the world. I do hope that in some small way, our being here can make even a tiny change for good.”

  “Sir,” Avalon said, speaking up. “Any life is an extremely important life—these young women deserve justice, and your help may change the future for others, may allow others to live. Please know how much we thank you.”

  The general nodded.

  “What now?”

  “Maybe the forensic teams will find something. We can hope. And I’ll go forward with this to the task force. We will find these people,” Fin said.

  It was a promise he could only do his best to fulfill. It was a sad fact of life: murderers sometimes got away with their crimes.

  He couldn’t let it happen this time.

  He gazed at Avalon and reached out for her hand. “We’d better get back to the house. Tom and Robert will be waiting, now that the forensic team is here.”

  She took his hand.

  “Thank you,” he said again to the ghosts.

  “We’ll be watching,” the general promised.

  Avalon kept his hand as they left the ghosts in the woods and made their way back through the overgrown trail.

  Once again, they found Tom Drayton and Robert Fryer on the porch. The two had been talking, it appeared, since they’d left.

  “The forensic people just left with their vehicle,” Tom told them. “I wish to hell someone would have thought to rip the forest and the roads to shreds two years ago. The concentration was here, at the house. At that time, though, we didn’t know how they’d gotten in. There was emphasis on the porch and the house and the area surrounding the house.”


  “But that would be my fault,” Robert said wearily. “I slept—I slept through it all.”

  “Hey, if you hadn’t, you might have been a victim, too,” Fin told him.

  “Better me than that young lady,” Robert said. “I’ve had a life. She had a beautiful road ahead of her.”

  “You couldn’t have changed things,” Avalon assured him. “She was dead when they came here. They just used this place for their shock value.”

  Tom nodded. “She’s right, Robert. It was a done deal. Be angry, not guilty. You weren’t at fault here in any way—you were used.”

  Robert Fryer nodded. “I know.” He looked at Fin and handed him a sheet he had apparently written while they’d been out by the road. “Here’s my contact information and contact info for Kyle Howard—the descendant who owns the house. He was down after the murder, and he was devastated, thought about shutting the place down. But he’s a professor, too, kind that believes we need hold on to history lest we forget it. We closed for a month after the murder, but then reopened. Nice man if you think he can help any.”

  “Thank you,” Fin told him.

  “We’re going to head back and wait to hear if they find anything.”

  “If the murderer knows that we’re making this an active case again, they might be dangerous,” Tom said. “I don’t know if Robert should be out here alone.”

  “I agree.”

  “Hey. I do have a shotgun in the gatehouse if needed,” Robert said. “I’m old, but my eyesight is still pretty good and can aim like a mother—Oh, whoops, sorry young lady,” he said and winked at Avalon.

  She was grinning. She walked over to Fin and set a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, this guy is young and well-trained, and even he knows that anyone can be taken by surprise.”

  “I’ll get some rookie agents out here on shifts,” Fin said. “They’ll love it. You can give them free tours,” Fin said.

  “No need,” Tom Drayton said. “I’m going to hang here with Robert for the next day or two—as long as that crew is working. Together, we’re good.”

  “Yeah? I taped a bunch of the college games,” Robert said.

  “Fine way to spend an evening,” Tom said.

  “All right then,” Fin said. “Avalon?”

  She smiled. “Tom, Robert, thank you so much.”

  “A true pleasure,” Tom said.

  “Well, other than the circumstances,” Robert said.

  They headed to Fin’s vehicle and then left the mansion behind them. He knew that the crew would search with the rest of the daylight they had and come back in the morning.

  “Should you have stayed? I know you’re just making sure that I get back safely,” Avalon told him.

  “They won’t be able to search that long tonight. They’ll grid the place and make their plans for tomorrow. I don’t know this crew, but they seem to have it all together. They’ll contact me. I’m going to report to headquarters. We’ll find out if anyone among our suspects was in the vicinity two years ago.”

  “She might have been killed miles away...and brought out here.”

  “She was driven. She was taken from Biloxi and driven here. That will still limit the possibilities.”

  “And you still suspect someone in my crew,” she said.

  He let out a long sigh. “Avalon, there were dozens of people working on that island. People who knew the schedule, which doesn’t mean it was one of your people—just someone who might have gotten hold of a schedule. Easier than you might think when you consider that these people really plan out what they’re doing.”

  “So what is your plan now?” she asked him.

  “I’m going to arrange to find out what is going on with the owners of Christy Island,” he said.

  “I believe they are still in New Orleans. Weren’t we all rather ordered to stay?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to see them on a social basis.”

  “Is that...allowed in a situation like this?”

  He glanced her way. “Sure. You and Kevin and Boris and friends will arrange to meet with them. I’m just going to show up. I could call them back in for an interview, but there’s no evidence against any of them and it would be unproductive. I want to see them out, and in action.”

  “You think one of them will start spouting out about killing a young woman and setting her up like a doll?” Avalon asked sardonically.

  “Nope. Just want to watch them. Interact a bit.”

  “Forensics got nothing from the island?”

  “Not yet. All we have is what the medical examiner gave us. And it’s not a lot to go on. We need to find out where she was killed, but that probably wasn’t on the island.”

  “And how will you find it then?”

  “By not stopping,” he said.

  They were silent again for a while. The sky darkened as they drove the I-10 westward. He glanced over at Avalon and thought that she was drifting to sleep.

  She was.

  He smiled as she began to lean toward him.

  In time, she was asleep, her head rested on his shoulder.

  He kept driving, sorry in a way that they were headed back to a house filled with her friends.

  He realized how much he liked time alone with her.

  She was...likable.

  There was something giving and unique in her personality.

  Even the dead knew it and came to her. That was a tremendous asset.

  But he realized it wasn’t at all why he liked being with her, and his reasons weren’t good at all. He was growing far more than just appreciative of her raven-dark hair, sky-colored eyes and slim curves. The attraction he felt for her was growing by leaps and bounds every minute.

  He wouldn’t act on an attraction. He was a professional.

  But he was also human.

  Eight

  “Oh!” Avalon said, awakening with a start.

  They were parked somewhere. She blinked; they weren’t exactly in front of the rental house, but they were close.

  “I’m sorry. Great travel companion I am.”

  She really hoped she hadn’t drooled on his shoulder.

  “It’s okay. You probably needed it. And it was great of you to come with me. I really appreciate that you did.”

  “No, no. I want to help. I told you that. In any way that I can.”

  “Good. Invite me in,” he said.

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes. “You want to start interrogating my friends again.”

  “Hey, if they’re innocent, what difference will it make? My real plan is to get us all out, and hopefully joined at some point by Cara Holstein, her husband Gary, Julian Bennett and Kenneth Richard.”

  Avalon glanced at her watch. It was almost eight. She wondered what the others were up to—they might not even be at the house.

  “Fine. Come in. I don’t know what anyone is doing.”

  It was easy enough to find out. Avalon headed into the house first and, hearing no one about in the public rooms, she headed out to the courtyard, followed by Fin.

  “Hey!”

  Boris was at one of the tables in the courtyard with Brad and Kevin, gathered around his computer.

  They all stood to greet Avalon and Fin—each of them gave her a hug and nodded a little warily to Fin.

  “Ah, you’re back,” Brad said.

  Avalon truly enjoyed Brad, as a friend, as a cameraman. He knew how to get the best angles on a shot by being courteous and enthusiastic with actors, rather than ever ripping at them. Away from friends, he had a tendency to come across as awkward. He was thin and well over six feet tall, and seemed unable to make his length just be straight and still. With friends, he was easy and fun, intelligent and a keen observer, which, she supposed, was part of what made him so good with a camera.

 
“How was everything?” Brad continued. “I mean, it couldn’t have been good. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say here.”

  Avalon wasn’t sure what to say, either.

  She didn’t have to worry. Fin was at ease, and ready to put the others at ease, too.

  “Mind if we join you?” he asked, reaching for a chair. “Well, I know you don’t mind if Avalon joins you, but...”

  “Please. Do join us,” Boris said.

  “Thanks.”

  Fin still waited for the others to sit before taking his own chair. Then he looked around the table, smiled weakly and told them, “Not sure what you do and don’t know. There was a girl murdered a few years ago in Mississippi and left...displayed, as Cindy was. We took a drive over. Sad, sad case, too. Young woman, everything ahead of her... Anyway, we went out there.”

  “You think that whoever killed Cindy has done something like it before?” Boris asked.

  “I do. Maybe more than the one time. We have people going through records from around the country, seeing what else might be related,” Fin said.

  Kevin looked at Avalon before speaking, and then he let out a long sigh. “I don’t claim to know much about crime. But I watch a lot of television,” he said. “Isn’t it true that the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours are crucial in solving a crime? I mean, I know that investigations can take months, years, but...this is Cindy. This shouldn’t have happened to Cindy!”

  There was a note of pain in his voice that Avalon completely understood.

  She looked at Fin, too.

  “A lot of murders are domestic, and personal. Naturally, we look at those closest to someone in most situations. But this isn’t your usual situation. Whoever did this was someone Cindy knew—but how well, it’s difficult to tell. We believe that he met up with her on Bourbon Street when she left you all...but you know that. What we don’t know is how well Cindy might have come to know the extras she was working with, if she was chatting and friendly with a caterer, we don’t know.” He looked around the table. Avalon couldn’t tell if he was being friendly, or watching them all shrewdly for a reaction. “We do have a network of fantastic people who can trace a person’s whereabouts through time, so we’re seeing what we can find that way.” He leaned forward. “And you all have known each other a long time, right?”

 

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