The Night Is Forever koh-11

by Heather Graham

  “It’s just the right time,” Abby said quietly. And it was. The moon was rising; the sun had almost fallen below the horizon. The hills, the plains, the landscape—all had that magical quality of twilight.

  They were still for a minute, until Dustin cleared his throat, and the sound roused them from their trance.

  “Maybe the general’s at the cemetery,” Malachi suggested.

  Olivia nodded. “Let’s forge ahead.”

  They rode on and eventually came to the clearing that led to the small cemetery.

  “This is one of Mariah’s favorite places,” Olivia told them. “The stories, of course, that go with the cemetery are tragic.”

  “Ghost stories often are,” Malachi said

  Dustin dismounted, lifting his lantern high. “Liv, do we leave the horses and walk along the trail?” he asked.

  “No. There are coyotes in the area. We don’t want spooked horses. If we had to walk back, it would be a very long walk.”

  “All right, this is your terrain, Liv. I’ll stay with the horses,” Dustin offered.

  “No, I’ve been to the cemetery plenty of times,” Malachi said. “Olivia’s house belonged to our uncle when we were growing up,” he reminded Dustin. “I came out here—” he paused, grinning “—to the frontier often enough. You show Abby.”

  Dustin didn’t argue. Olivia raised her own lantern high and led the way along the trail.

  They came to the graves, and the old lichen-covered stones were haunting and sad in the moonlight.

  “I’m surprised the general has been allowed to rest here—that someone hasn’t decided to dig him up for a memorial,” Abby said. She knelt down by the grave, dusting it off. “It’s nice here, though. Lonely.”

  “Seems to be a Tennessee thing, respecting his right to this place,” Olivia said, getting down on her knees beside Abby. “There’s never even been any vandalism out here, nor do we ever find beer cans or any hint of frat kids fooling around. Not here, not in the cemetery.” She glanced up at them. “There’s an urban legend about the place—that in the 1960s or ’70s, some kids came out here, but there was a coyote prowling the area and they got scared and started to run. One of the boys got tangled in some vines. He was in a panic and he swore afterward that the general came and helped him. People believe that this cemetery is haunted—by more than coyotes. I guess it’s been tacitly accepted through the generations. The cemetery is maintained by local restoration groups, and no one interferes with it.”

  “It’s a little forlorn,” Abby said. “And definitely out of the way.”

  Olivia shrugged. “Maybe that’s why the general keeps riding.”

  But the general wasn’t riding.

  He was leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, watching them. Dustin watched him for several minutes without moving or speaking. He didn’t warn the women. At last he spoke, very quietly. “General Cunningham, we could really use your help.”

  Neither Abby nor Olivia started. They looked over at him, where he stood by the trees. Olivia rose, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Sir,” she said. “I know you tried to save Marcus. We desperately need your help now.”

  Abby rose slowly to her feet beside Olivia. The general stared back at all of them. He lifted his hand in a dignified greeting.

  But then he disappeared.

  Abby sighed. “I hope it wasn’t me,” she whispered.

  “He just—he just isn’t a talker,” Olivia told her.

  “Maybe he will be when he has something to say,” Abby suggested.

  “Let’s get going. We have to pitch a tent for the night and then I want to go over everything that happened when Aaron fell into the stream,” Dustin said. “Every single thing we can recall....”

  They returned to the horses, and Malachi instinctively seemed to know something had happened.

  “We saw the general,” Dustin explained.

  “And?” Malachi asked.

  Abby shook her head.

  “Well, we know he’s been here—watching,” Malachi said.

  They rode on. When they broke into the clearing by the rocky hills, the sheer beauty of the area made them pause in unison. “We should get the tent pitched,” Malachi said once they’d reached the campsite. “Hey, Liv, this has been fixed up nicely over the years. The rocks around the fire pit—great! You can keep embers going at night without worrying that you’ll start a forest fire.”

  “If it’s windy, of course, we still douse it completely,” Olivia said, dismounting. She untied the saddle pack she had on Shiloh. “Who has the tent supports?”

  “I’ve got ’em,” Malachi called out.

  They went to work erecting the tent. Soon it was done; Dustin was glad they’d chosen to bring one—it was getting too cold for sleeping bags alone. They’d take turns being on guard duty during the night.

  They gathered firewood and got a blaze going. By then they were all famished and eating became the next order of business. Even the canned food tasted delicious at that point.

  While they ate, Dustin and Olivia relayed everything that had occurred when Aaron had nearly drowned. Malachi and Abby nodded, asked questions and, after they’d finished eating, were shown the routes taken by the different players during the event.

  “Tomorrow we should act it out. Count the seconds each movement takes, and so on.” Abby yawned. “I wouldn’t mind if I got to sleep first,” she said.

  “Everyone go ahead. I’ll take this shift,” Dustin told them.

  Olivia rose with Abby, obviously feeling a little awkward. She turned to face Dustin; he gazed back at her, meeting her eyes.

  It’s up to you, he tried to tell her silently. I’m not afraid of Malachi. He’s sleeping with his partner—well, beside her, anyway. In separate sleeping bags.... So I think it’s okay if we do the same thing!

  She didn’t say anything, but joined Abby and they entered the tent.

  Malachi studied him across the fire. “Don’t underestimate my cousin’s strength,” he finally said. “She may not carry a weapon, but she’s a powerful personality.”

  “I never doubted that for a minute.”

  “And she’s beautiful. She might be my cousin, but she’s still one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen.”

  “I agree. I... Well. Hell. I care about her. A lot.”

  Malachi said nothing further, but he grinned. Maybe that was what he’d wanted to hear. “Okay. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  He got up and went into the tent. Dustin shifted, wrapping his arms around his chest. It was chilly. He didn’t want a blanket, though; he wanted to stay awake.

  The flames grew small. The embers barely burned anymore. There was still light above him from the moon, and in the distance, a coyote howled. A branch snapped on the fire.

  He stared out into the dark woods, but saw nothing.

  He could hear the trickle of the nearby stream.

  And then, walking toward him out of the trees, came the general.

  General Rufus Cunningham.

  He stopped across the fire from Dustin, then sat down to join him.

  His voice was gruff when he spoke. “I’d help you—God knows I’d help you. But I didn’t see enough!”

  “Thank you. I understand,” Dustin told him. “But, please, tell me whatever you did see. Anything— anything at all might help.”

  The general sat back, gazing into the darkness.

  And then he began.

  16

  Olivia wasn’t sure what had awakened her.

  At first she’d thought she’d never sleep, but she’d closed her eyes and drifted off with surprising ease. Maybe it had been a release of tension; so much had happened. Aaron had almost died and been saved—and now he was actually dead. The Horse Farm was falling apart. But two armed agents rested nearby and Dustin was just outside. She felt...safe.

  But just as easily as she’d slept, she awoke.

  She lay there for a minute, trying to ascertain what
had wakened her, her heart beginning to beat too fast. Fear set in so quickly these days.

  But then she realized she heard Dustin’s voice and that it was calm and relaxed. She saw movement near her; Malachi had risen and crept to the opening of the tent. Abby was awake, as well, watching Malachi.

  Olivia inched silently toward Malachi. He turned to her in the darkness. She could barely see his features but he whispered, “Move slowly.”

  She nodded. Malachi eased himself out of the tent. She saw that he stood motionless for a few seconds and then moved toward the rock-circled fire, where the embers still burned with a soft glow.

  Olivia glanced back at Abby, who rose carefully and together they stepped out of the tent. Malachi had just taken a seat near the fire by Dustin.

  Across from them sat the general. He was in his cavalry uniform and appeared as he surely had in life. Olivia felt as if she’d stumbled upon a campfire meeting after a reenactment.

  She hesitated, and then moved very slowly, coming around the fire to sit cross-legged on Dustin’s other side, facing the general as the men were doing. A second later, Abby joined her. The general nodded to them each in turn. When he spoke, his voice seemed raspy, like a wind on leaves, and she thought again that he didn’t speak often, that he saw his role in the afterlife as something that didn’t require words.

  “The dog cried out and I hurried to the sound,” the general said. “A fine dog, a loyal animal. When I reached him, he was trapped. There was a large rock at his side. It must have been thrown at him and shoved him into a tangle of brush. It was all I could do to ease the tangle so he might run on. When I emerged from the trees, I saw someone wearing clothing in earth colors, greens and browns. In one of those short coats that covers the head.”

  “A hoodie,” Dustin mused. “But you couldn’t see a face.”

  “No. I first went down to the ravine where Marcus Danby lay. But to my great sorrow, the man was no longer living. Danby was a fine man. We spoke sometimes.” The general was silent, reflective, for a moment. “And so I rose from the ravine and mounted Loki, and I went after that person. But as I rode, many people were out riding. I did not recognize anyone—and no one appeared in the clothing I had seen.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Dustin said politely, but Olivia could hear disappointment in his voice.

  “We’d suspected that Sammy, the dog, had been hit from a distance, which you’ve confirmed. If he knew who’d harmed him, he’d growl at that person. Thank you,” Dustin said again. “Sammy is a good dog, and we’re grateful he’s alive.”

  The general nodded gravely, but a slight smile curved his lip.

  “I did see a horse,” he told them. “When the hooded figure disappeared, I saw that he ran to a horse.”

  “Which horse?” Olivia asked. “What did it look like?”

  “A large animal. One of the largest horses in the area.”

  “Gargantua!” Olivia whispered.

  “That would be a fitting name,” the general said.

  Dustin turned to her; she could feel his tension. “Who was riding Gargantua that day?” he asked her.

  Olivia let out a breath. “Aaron. Aaron Bentley,” she said in a shaky voice.

  Dustin frowned and looked back at the general. “Sir, were you in this area when we were camping? The night before last?”

  The general nodded.

  “Did...did you try to talk to one of the young women with us? Mariah?”

  “I seldom try to speak,” the general said. “No, I did not try to speak with anyone.”

  “Did you see anything that night—or early morning, as it was?” Dustin asked.

  “I watched over the camp. I saw the man walk to the stream. I followed him at first. I saw him slap at his neck, as if he had been stung by a bee. Then he fell. There was nothing I could do.” He raised his arms. “I have little strength. By will, if something...if something is light enough, perhaps my will can make it move. But he was a big man. I could not lift his face from the water.”

  His sorrow was evident.

  “Did you see anything else?”

  “I heard the scream and I followed. I saw you race into the woods. I wanted to try to bring you to the water, but you were gone before I could show myself to urge you toward the stream,” the general said. He shook his head sadly. “I wish I could help more.”

  “You have helped incredibly,” Dustin told him. “We are grateful, sir.”

  The general nodded and stood. “The truth must be discovered. Such a man as Marcus Danby must not be falsely remembered for living a lie. He salvaged his soul and his life and gave life to others, in quality and in years.”

  Dustin got to his feet; Olivia, Malachi and Abby quickly followed suit.

  “We will find the truth,” Dustin vowed.

  “Yes, you are fine soldiers. You will carry on. I have spoken too long, but I will remain here. I will not leave, although I grow faint and weak,” he said, pausing to offer them a grim smile. “I am but a ghost of the man I was. Still, I will watch, and I will do what is in my power.”

  Olivia smiled in return, thankful for his promise—and appreciating his unexpected humor.

  He walked away from the fire, fading as he did. Just as he reached the heart of the forested shadows, Olivia saw his white horse, radiant in the moonlight. She thought she heard a whinny. Then the general mounted Loki, and they disappeared into the darkness as if they’d never been.

  “Olivia, are you sure?” Dustin asked when the general had ridden away.

  She stared at him, disoriented for a minute.

  “Am I sure...about what?”

  “That Aaron Bentley was riding Gargantua that day?”

  She nodded. “He always rode Gargantua. And when they found me with Marcus, he’d definitely been riding Gargantua.”

  “Perhaps there was a switch-up with the horses?” Malachi suggested.

  “I—I don’t know how or when. When we all rode out from the Horse Farm that day, Aaron was on him. When I came to, Aaron was there, and he got back on Gargantua when we left.”

  Dustin looked at Malachi. “We’ll have to ask at the Horse Farm. If someone else had taken the horse out first, Drew or Sydney would know.”

  “Hmm.” Malachi frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not so sure about that. But it is possible that Aaron killed Marcus—and someone else killed Aaron.”

  “You mean, perhaps someone knew that Aaron had killed Marcus—and then killed Aaron because he killed Marcus?” Olivia asked.

  “There are a few other possibilities,” Abby pointed out. “Like Dustin said, someone else might have taken the horse.”

  Malachi shook his head. “I doubt it, since Liv seems convinced that Aaron was on Gargantua during the day.”

  “And here’s something else,” Dustin put in. “Aaron and someone else might have been working together—in which case his partner could have taken the horse. It could’ve been part of the plan. And then...this partner may have decided Aaron was too much of a risk, that he was going to blow it all somehow.”

  “But if someone knew that Aaron had killed Marcus—with or without that person as an accomplice—would he or she have gone to the police?” Olivia asked slowly.

  Malachi draped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you know better than most how twisted and corrupt people can be, cousin.”

  Olivia sighed. “So, we’re more or less nowhere.”

  “No,” Dustin said. “We have more clues to follow now. Tomorrow we’ll search this area again. And as soon as we get back, we’ll find out what went on with the horses. And, with Jane’s help, we’ll track down that image of the general Frank found in the trees.”

  “I still think we should reenact what happened that morning,” Abby suggested. “Try to understand the timing of what went on better.”

  “I agree. But for now, let’s get some sleep,” Dustin said.

  “Yep, my turn to take over,” Malachi announced. He sat back down by the fire.

  “
I’ll never sleep now,” Olivia muttered.

  “I will,” Dustin said. “Come on. Give it a try.”

  He set his hand on her back, pressing her toward the tent. To her surprise, once she’d climbed into her sleeping bag, with him beside her and Abby just feet away—and Malachi on guard duty by the fire—she did begin to drift off.

  If it wasn’t so serious, it would be amusing. It was the most asexual situation ever despite the fact that they were crammed together in such intimate quarters. And yet she was comfortable because she could feel his warmth.

  * * *

  The packaged muffins weren’t very good, but they were edible and Dustin had to admit that the coffee they brewed with stream water was excellent. When they’d eaten, Abby did the directing.

  “She used to play a pirate wench at her grandfather’s tavern,” Malachi told Dustin with a grin.

  Abby pointedly ignored that. “Malachi, you’ll be Aaron. I’ll be Mariah, and Olivia and Dustin, you two will be yourselves. So...”

  “Okay, I’m Aaron. I’ve woken up, stretched and I’m going to the stream.”

  He walked away.

  “Okay, what next?” Abby asked.

  “I hear the scream—I bolt up and run into the woods,” Dustin answered.

  “Go!” Abby said.

  Dustin shook his head.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re Mariah, so you’re supposed to be in the woods already.”

  “All right, I’m going. How far?”

  “Just past the ‘powder room’ bushes over there, past the first trees, and into the first clearing,” Dustin told her.

  “Okay, wait until I get there and scream.”

  Abby ran ahead. A few seconds later, she screamed. Dustin went flying after her; he heard Olivia coming after him. They met up with Abby in the woods.

  “That was only about ten seconds,” Dustin said.

  Abby nodded. “What next?”

  “We were here with Mariah for maybe two minutes and then we all went back to the site. Drew was with me,” Olivia said.

  “All right. We head back now.” Abby led the way. When they returned to the campsite, she asked, “And everyone was here then, at the campsite. Everyone except Aaron.”