The Night Is Forever koh-11

by Heather Graham

  She was glad he was there. He seemed to fill a room—an area, even in the midst of a forest or pasture—with confidence, with strength, like an invulnerable bastion.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked her, clearly irritated.

  So much for being glad to see him.

  “I’m looking around Marcus’s house,” she said. “My house,” she added.

  “You didn’t even lock the door!” he admonished.

  She flushed. She hadn’t thought to lock the door; she wasn’t accustomed to being worried about her every move.

  “I knew you were coming,” she told him.

  “You didn’t know who else might be coming,” he said, still aggravated. He started walking into the house.

  To her amusement, he suddenly tripped. A corner of the rug stretched out on the hardwood floor had curled back.

  Straightening, he swore softly.

  “He has no right to be rude to you!” Olivia heard.

  Turning around, she saw that the ghost of Marcus Danby had decided to join them.

  “Rude!” Dustin snapped. “What the hell? I’m trying to keep her from getting killed, and you don’t seem to be helping a whole lot!”

  Olivia turned again to look at Dustin, who was staring at Marcus.

  “You see him,” she breathed.

  “Of course I see him. And hear him. And, Mr. Danby, under the circumstances, it’s about time you stuck around to meet me,” Dustin said. “I need to know everything about you and everything you did on the day you were killed. Your memory might be the only thing that can keep Olivia alive.”

  Marcus, startled—and offended—made his ghostly way across the room to stand in front of Dustin. “You—you’re FBI. You have to find the truth of this. I’m not the one putting Olivia in danger.”

  “You put her in danger the minute you dragged her into this!” Dustin snapped.

  “Hey, someone killed me! It’s not just Olivia’s life that’s at stake. The Horse Farm itself is.”

  “So, you’d get her killed, as well?”

  “She could hear me. I had to tell someone the truth.”

  “Excuse me,” she began.

  But neither seemed to hear her.

  “You need to be worried about her safety before anything else,” Dustin was saying.

  “And you have to find my killer,” Marcus countered. “That’ll keep her out of danger.”

  “But you obviously have the information we need.”

  “No. You’re the one with all the advantages. You’re the one—”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re the one who’s...alive.”

  7

  Marcus’s final statement apparently won the argument. Within minutes, he and Olivia were seated on the sofa, while Dustin was in a wing-back chair across the coffee table from them.

  Olivia and Dustin had coffee—black. Marcus had told them the coffee was fine, but since he’d been dead for a while now, the milk probably wasn’t so good. Olivia should throw it out.

  Marcus went over the day of his death with Dustin; Dustin asked for details but Marcus really couldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Dustin pressed him, anyway.

  “Okay, you heard the dog from the woods and you went to find him. That’s the last you remember?” Dustin asked.

  “Yes, I just said that,” Marcus replied in an exasperated tone.

  “Which woods? Where were you exactly?”

  “I don’t know exactly.... There’s a riding trail—the only real trail. You’ll see little paths here and there, but if you were on horseback, you’d have to take the trail. That’s where I was.”

  “And it was daylight, correct?”

  “Yes. Although it was a little overcast. The canopy of the pines and the other trees can create this green darkness that’s almost surreal. When we have fog, it’s like being in a fantasyland,” Marcus said.

  Dustin ignored his lyrical description. “How far had you gone in?” he asked briskly.

  “A hundred yards or so? I’d reached the copse.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I don’t remember.”

  “Did you feel a pain in your head? A prick in your arm? Anything that would explain how you lost consciousness?”

  “No... Yes! Maybe. I thought I’d been stung by a bee...or gotten a spider bite. Something like that. Something you don’t even pay attention to,” Marcus said.

  “The medical examiner has released the information that there were drugs in your system. We have to figure out how they got there,” Dustin said.

  “Well, there’s nothing in this house, I can assure you of that,” Marcus responded indignantly.

  Dustin looked at Olivia. “And tomorrow, at work, you should say that you searched all over the house and you didn’t find anything—but that you’re resigned to the fact that Marcus must have suffered a relapse and hidden his stash in the forest somewhere,” he said.

  “What?” Marcus demanded indignantly.

  “Someone tried to get into Olivia’s home last night, Marcus,” Dustin told him.

  “Oh. Oh, no!” Marcus said, giving Olivia an anguished look.

  “I thought you were coming back,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, I meant to, but...”

  “But what?”

  “I made some discoveries.”

  “Like what?” Dustin asked.

  “I never knew Aaron and Sandra were sleeping together,” Marcus said.

  “You were spying on them?” Olivia shook her head in disgust.

  “Not the way you think. I...went to the Horse Farm and Aaron was still there. I went—” He paused. There was an air of sadness about him that seemed palpable. “I went out to see the horses. Big Orange Cat was hanging around in Zeus’s stall, and I swear that animal could feel me there, feel me pet him. That’s a great cat, Agent—if you’re thinking of adopting.”

  “He’s a great mouser, too, Marcus. Good in the stables,” Olivia pointed out.

  “But he’s special. Ah, hell, they’re all special.” Marcus sighed.

  “Marcus,” Dustin said, steering him back. “When you were at the stables last night, did you see Sydney or Drew?”

  “No, but they were in their apartments,” Marcus answered.

  “Both apartments are upstairs. Sydney’s is above the stable office and Drew’s is over the tack room,” Olivia clarified for Dustin’s benefit.

  “How did you know they were in their rooms? Did you go up?” Dustin asked.

  “I could hear Drew playing an old Beatles album. Sydney was watching that reality show about people who own wildly expensive collectibles and don’t even know it,” Marcus said.

  “But you didn’t actually see either of them.”

  “No, because when I was in the stables, I heard noise over at the main office, so I went there.”

  “And did you see Aaron and Sandra?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure where Sandra came from. She might have stayed there after closing. Maybe she was just doing paperwork in the peace and quiet and fell asleep on one of the sofas. I’ve seen Sandra stay over to do paperwork and reports occasionally. Aaron drove in.”

  “Sandra said she was going straight home,” Dustin said.

  Marcus shrugged in response.

  “What time?” Olivia asked him.

  He looked at her curiously. “Time...” he repeated slowly.

  “Yes, what time was it?”

  “I don’t really know. It’s really not much of a concept to me anymore.”

  “Does that explain why you didn’t come back to my house last night?”

  Marcus seemed stricken by the reminder. “I am so sorry.”

  “You really can’t help her, Marcus,” Dustin said.

  “I beg your pardon? I can warn her—”

  “Yes, but, you’re right. The responsibility falls to me. As you pointed out, I’m the one who’s living.”

  Olivia wanted to pat Marcus’s leg and remembered that
she couldn’t. “A warning is always helpful, Marcus. And I would’ve appreciated one last night,” she muttered under her breath.

  Dustin leaned forward. “Marcus, when you walked into the woods, do you remember hearing anything?”

  “I walked in because the dog was yelping—crying. I knew Sammy was hurt,” Marcus explained. “Did I hear anything else? Yes, actually. Something like a...flying sound. A buzzing? Sort of like a mosquito next to your ear. But then I...”

  “But then you lost consciousness,” Dustin finished.

  Marcus nodded in a dazed way. “You’re really not safe, are you, Liv? I have put you in danger.”

  “She’s my responsibility now,” Dustin said.

  “Stop it!” Olivia exploded. “I’m not anyone’s responsibility. I’m an adult. We’re all here to discover the truth behind Marcus’s death, not to treat me like...like an infant.”

  Both men stared at her.

  “Do you want to get killed?” Marcus asked fiercely.

  “No, of course not!”

  “Hmm, let’s see. He’s a trained FBI agent and you’re not. I say you need to let him take responsibility,” Marcus told her.

  She threw up her hands. “Can we not make it sound so...pathetic?”

  They both looked at her again and then at each other. Dustin resumed his questioning. “Okay, Marcus, this is important. You believe—but you’re not certain—that Sydney and Drew were in their rooms last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t know where Sandra Cheever was, but Aaron drove back to the Horse Farm. And you believe they’re having an affair?”

  “Yes. Discreet, of course. But...”

  “It would explain today,” Dustin murmured.

  “What about today?” Olivia asked.

  “I think they were arguing. This was before Sandra left—she said she was going straight home, by the way—then you came in. I didn’t have a chance to find out what the argument was about, though. My, uh, eavesdropping was interrupted by Mariah, who started talking about the camping trip tomorrow night.”

  Marcus nodded. “The camping trip. If you’re together, then Liv will be safe. But what about tonight? Someone could come looking for her here—or at her own house.”

  “I thought about that. I figured we’d go into Nashville. There’s a small chain motel on the outskirts. Actually,” he said, glancing at Olivia, “I was going to suggest a break. We could go in for dinner and get a couple of rooms at the motel. Olivia can leave her car at her place in case anyone’s watching. It’s more plausible that I might be in the city, since people know I have a sister who lives there. She’s not in town at the moment, but no one knows that.”

  “Sounds good,” Marcus said approvingly.

  “Wait a minute.” Olivia decided she had to put a stop to the way they were assuming control—or at least get them to acknowledge her rights in this situation. “I truly appreciate all the responsibility you two feel you need to take, but I’d prefer to be involved in these decisions,” Olivia told them.

  “Okay. Olivia, I would like us to have dinner in Nashville. Would that be all right? And in the interests of keeping you alive—without me sleeping in your living room, which will certainly elicit an eternal round of gossip—would you like to stay in that lovely little motel off I-40?”

  “Yes, that sounds lovely, thank you,” she said primly. “I just need to be kept in the loop, okay?”

  Loop? The two of them were talking to a ghost.

  Yet, even as she spoke, she saw that Marcus seemed to be fading.

  “Be safe, kiddies,” Marcus said, his voice growing as faint as his image. “I can’t seem to stay around that long.... Still getting the hang of this....”

  He was gone. They were talking to an empty space on the sofa.

  For a moment, Olivia felt awkward. She was so intensely aware of being there alone with Dustin. There was something about him, a quality that made him the focus in any room. And it was attractive and seductive.

  She cleared her throat, trying to concentrate. “You’re really afraid for me to stay by myself?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “You’ll need a few things. Just pack an overnight bag. We’ll go to your house, so you can deal with the dog and collect your things. I’ll follow you and keep watch from a safe distance.”

  “What about you? Don’t you need to pack a bag?”

  “I have extra clothes in the rental car.”

  “So, we’re going to dinner?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be doing...something to solve this?”

  “Tomorrow I intend to search the woods until I find what flew by you.”

  “You think that someone’s—”

  “I think someone’s afraid of you. I think you’re in danger. You have to make sure you’re always with a group of people—or with me.”

  “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “We’ll take it day by day,” he said. “I’ll let Malachi and Jackson know that we have to get some members of the Krewe units out here. In fact, I’ll call Malachi while I wait for you.”

  She smiled. “So where are we going for dinner?”

  “A place my sister loves. F. Scott’s.”

  “But you said your sister’s not in Nashville right now.”

  “True. She’s in London on tour.”

  “Tour? What does she do?”

  “She’s a country music singer.”

  Olivia stared at him, bemused. “Really? That’s fascinating.”

  “I might be prejudiced, but she’s pretty good.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Rayna Blake.”

  “Wow! Rayna Blake’s your sister?”

  “You’ve heard of her?”

  “I saw her as the opening act for the Band Perry. She’s extremely talented.”

  She kept smiling.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Country music star, federal agent. Your parents must be very interesting people!”

  “Oh, they are,” he assured her. “Historians. Very interesting.”

  “Too bad she’s not here doing a concert. I’m sure you could get really good tickets.”

  “We’d have to go to London for that—which is where my parents happen to be. And...”

  “No London.” Olivia laughed. “Way too complicated. Just Nashville,” she said. “Wanna do a ghost tour?”

  “Really?”

  She shrugged. “We’ll be in a group.”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  He stood and she did the same. She felt strange, awkward, yet somehow exhilarated and even a little frightened. That fear wasn’t about the threat of death or attack, but the thought of an evening with him.... She quickly turned and headed for the door. None of this was real, she told herself.

  Only, Marcus’s death had been real.

  * * *

  Dustin parked down on the road while Olivia drove up to her house. Although she lived in an area where every home had acreage around it—whether that was owned by the household, pasture belonging to nearby farmers or land owned by the park service—the front of her house was clearly visible from the road. No large bushes provided hiding.

  The hiding places lay to the sides and the rear, where forests flourished.

  In this section of the countryside, “neighbors” were far away.

  He watched, trying not to smile as she came out. He’d given her a small bag of dirt to scatter on the front porch. He wanted to know if anyone tried to drop in on her that night.

  She was actually pretty good at being unobtrusive as she spread the dirt around. He didn’t think anyone was watching the house at that time. He kept a careful eye on the front; he doubted that anyone hiding in the woods would be able to see exactly what she was doing.

  He didn’t believe they were dealing with a master criminal, although he was equally certain the killer wasn’t stupid.

  She hurried down the dirt
-and-stone drive to the street where he was parked and slid into the car. She carried a large backpack rather than a suitcase, and he found himself pleased that she’d evidently realized a backpack might go anywhere while a suitcase would advertise the fact that she was going away.

  “Is this the right thing to do?” she asked anxiously, fastening her seat belt. “I mean, shouldn’t we be doing more to pursue the killer?”

  “I can’t burst into homes and demand that people let me interrogate them,” he said. “At the moment, we’re doing what’s most important.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Making sure the killer doesn’t strike again.” He drove in silence as they headed for the highway.

  “You do know exactly where you’re going,” she murmured.

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve told you—I really am from Nashville.”

  “That was convenient for us all.”

  He couldn’t quite tell what the tone of her voice meant so he didn’t respond. It was already growing late so he drove straight to the restaurant. F. Scott’s was a casual place where some dressed up and some dressed down and the music and food were good. Their table was in a corner by the wall; when they were seated, it seemed intimate. He couldn’t help marveling again that she could look like her cousin—and be so beautiful.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  He grinned. “Honestly? I was finding it incredible that you could look so much like Malachi—but be so attractive.”

  “Malachi is very handsome!” she said, defending her cousin. “And thank you. I think.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I think.”

  The waitress arrived. Olivia ordered a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks; he opted for the same. They both decided on steak and their order was in.

  She sipped her drink when it was served but still looked restless. “I just wish we could be doing something more.”

  “We actually are,” he told her.

  “We are? How?”

  “Back in the offices, they’re sifting through backgrounds and finding out everything that they can about everyone involved with the Horse Farm.”

  “But you’ve done that, haven’t you?”

  “We just keep going deeper and deeper,” he said. “Trying different approaches and looking for new connections.”