After a few swigs, Bart asked the dark-haired man, “What’s your name?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer, “Tolliver.”
“And him? He doesn’t speak much at all.” Bart pointed his finger at the giant of a man in the corner of the room. The prisoner didn’t appear to notice at all that he was the subject of the conversation. He continued staring out the window.
“That’s Benjamin Gaines. I guess you know John McCoy. You murdered his son.”
Bart’s eyes widened, but his smile revealed his lack of sympathy for McCoy. He took another few sips and said, “Why don’t you sing us a song, Mr. Tolliver?” I pulled my hat down over my eyes and stared at the dusty, dirty floor in front of me. I didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “You southern boys are always singing. Singing when you march. Singing when you kill. Singing when you burn. Sing something for me. You, sir, have the look of a fine singer about you. I bet you got a sweet voice.”
The man with the black hair stared hard at him but didn’t answer. Lieutenant Humphries wasn’t going to let it go. “You heard me, rebel. Sing something for us.” To my surprise, Tolliver began singing Amazing Grace. I lifted my head slightly to observe their exchange. I’d never seen anyone sing Amazing Grace with such hatred in their eyes, and the lieutenant wasn’t having any of it.
“No! Don’t sing me church songs! I want to hear some of those good southern boy songs.”
“I only know church songs,” Tolliver snarled. “But I guess you don’t recognize a hymn when you hear it. Not much of a churchgoer, are you?”
I looked back down at my feet. This wasn’t going to go well. This wasn’t going to go well at all. I heard toenails clicking on the porch outside and got up to check on the dog. Better to be with that dog than in here witnessing another murder.
How can you stand by and watch, Darcy? Are these men’s lives less worthy than Young Springfield’s?
Aunt Ruby’s voice rang in my head, but I shook the voice away and closed the flimsy door behind me. The dog waited for me patiently at the end of the porch, and I walked over to him to pat his head. The rain had ceased for the moment. Did I dare hope to see the sun peeking through the gray? I reached for a moldy scrap of bread that I retrieved from my pocket. I quickly tossed it to the hound and prayed that Bart didn’t catch me. The lieutenant would certainly want to tie up if he saw me giving the dog the last of our food. But I couldn’t stand the sight of the animal looking so hungry.
In a whisper, I said, “I know I should name you, but I just can’t. Don’t get attached to me, boy. I’m not a good man. Not good at all. I’ll be leaving here soon, and I’ll be leaving you behind. You have to stay here, dog. And don’t look at me like that. It’s not that you aren’t a good dog; it’s just I can’t bring you with me. You’re a Mississippi dog, and I’m a Kentucky boy. It would never work out. I have to go home.”
Home… Would I ever see it again?
Just as the dog finished his scrap and licked his lips, I heard the door open and Humphries stepped outside. “I think we ought to get on the road, lieutenant. Get back to the battalion before they move north.”
The whiskey already had a hold of him, probably because we hadn’t had a good meal in days. “You let me do the thinking, private. I’m going to tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re going to take these men with us because if we don’t, you and I will wake up dead. These are our trophies, prisoners of the union.” His speech was slurred slightly, and I could see he was getting bolder by the minute. He shouted all of a sudden. “My trophies!” I looked around me and put my hand up as if to say, Be quiet, but he didn’t pay a bit of attention.
I heard the old man inside whimpering and crying, and his friend Tolliver tried to comfort him. That wouldn’t sit well with Humphries—I needed to distract the lieutenant, keep him away from them for a bit. “If you don’t keep quiet, lieutenant, the whole Confederate army is going to find us. And how are we going to lead these men when they don’t even have shoes on their feet?”
“Stop with the bleeding-heart stuff, Darcy. You needed shoes, and I got you some shoes. Ain’t that what a good leader does? Meets the needs of his men?” He took a step towards me and handed me the bottle. Just to appease him, I took a sip and immediately began to cough. Like I said, I wasn’t much of a drinker. Never had been. I’d come from a household of faith where there was never a drop of anything stiffer than water or occasionally tea or lemonade. But of course, the lieutenant got a chuckle out of my discomfort.
“And that’s your problem. You’re not hard enough, Private Darcy. Time to be a man and make the hard decisions. That’s what you will have to do if you want to survive this war.”
“Is that what you were doing when Young Springfield got killed, lieutenant? Being hard?”
He took the bottle back and popped the cork on the bottle and set it on the railing. “So that’s what this is all about? You think I knew there was a sniper down by the creek? You think I could predict that, private? Just like you, I was doing what I was told.”
I rubbed the liquor from my lips, hating the taste of it. And hating him even more. “I know what you were told. Remember? I was there. We were to go support the line. Fill in the gaps. You led us in the opposite direction, and Young got killed. You’re going to have to answer for that, Lieutenant Humphries.”
“You thinking of turning on me, Darcy? You think you know more than me? That you’re better than me? You ain’t nothing but a backwards hillbilly. Like I said, you leave the thinking to me. Now come morning, we’re leaving here with three prisoners of war. Unless one of them don’t shut up.” He yelled the last bit out. “Whether it’s two or three, I don’t really care. Why don’t you take that dog with you and go rustle up some food? We need to strengthen these men and ourselves for the journey, private.”
I hesitated, but only for a few seconds. I didn’t want to be in Bart’s presence any longer than he wanted to be in mine. And the sooner I could get back to Jackson, the sooner I could head home.
I whistled at the dog, and together we headed out into the woods. I had to walk a long way to find a few squirrels, but I didn’t mind the walk. Maybe I would never go back. I could do that. Leave and go to Jackson myself.
But what about Young and the promise I made to him? No. I couldn’t abandon my task now. If I did, Wilmer’s death would be on me too. I couldn’t let that boy die in vain.
Scrounging up food when there was none to be had would be like performing a magician’s trick. I’d seen a magician before. One came to Bear Point when I was young, but he didn’t stay long. People out my way didn’t care for tricks and magic. People were much more practical in Bear Point, Kentucky. They didn’t like to feel as if you got one up on them. And that magician, he’d made the mistake of trying to trick the wrong person.
Why in the world was I thinking about this now? I grabbed my two squirrels and headed back to the shack. My haul wouldn’t be much to eat, but having something in our bellies before we made the journey back to Jackson was essential. And I planned on holding the lieutenant to his word. We were going back, and there was no ifs, ands or buts about it, as my Aunt Ruby used to say.
I wasn’t too far from the house when I heard the first shot.
“Come on, boy,” I yelled at the dog as we ran to the shack. I ran for at least ten minutes, my heart pounding and the sweat from my body stinking to high heaven. That fool was going to get us all killed! I could smell the gunpowder before I even got inside. I knew what had happened; there wasn’t any need to guess. Lieutenant Humphries had shot the old man, shot him dead, and his blood was all over the walls of the shack.
“Put the gun down!” I dropped the squirrels on the floor beside me, and the dog paced on the porch. He growled and kept a watchful eye on Bart. “Just put the gun down. There’s no need for this. No need for anyone else to get hurt. Look, I got food, lieutenant.”
That appeared to appease the drunken Humphries, for he rested his rifle on hi
s shoulder. “Bout time. The boys and I were discussing whether or not to eat that dog. I guess you helped him survive another day. Unfortunately, this prisoner decided to make a break for it and I had to shoot him.”
“You lie!” Tolliver said through clenched teeth. “You murdering bastard!” I stalked across the floor and kicked Tolliver. Not because his words offended me or because I didn’t believe him. I was trying to save the fool’s life.
“Shut up!”
Humphries wavered on his feet and waved his rifle about. The alcohol was getting the best of him. I said, “Why don’t you have a seat, lieutenant? Before you fall down. There’s a dry spot out in the yard. We can camp out there tonight. I’ll get a fire going.”
We couldn’t sleep in here with this man’s brains and blood everywhere. The elder McCoy was missing half his face, and the big man, the one that didn’t speak, the one they said was mute, was covered in John McCoy’s blood. Who was I kidding? We were all dead men. If we stayed here with Bart Humphries, we were certainly all dead men.
“I’ll get the fire started. I need some firewood, lieutenant.”
I stomped over to him quickly and snatched the rifle from his drunken hands.
Things were going to change now. They had to, or there wouldn’t be any of us left.
Chapter Ten—Midas Demopolis
About eight o’clock, Cassidy, Joshua and I headed for the palmetto field; I don’t know why, but I couldn’t get the place out of my mind. Of course, it was only a hunch that anyone was buried there, but history suggested that it was a pretty good one. With the field so close to Harrington Farm and the battlefield, it was entirely possible that someone or something lingered here. Armed with only a flashlight, a handheld digital recorder and a camera with an IR setting, we followed the path back to the stone where Cassidy had been sitting earlier. Once we knew where it was, it was easy to find the clearing again.
Joshua was impressed by the find. “Wow. This is pretty amazing. So, you guys just stumbled onto this?”
Cassidy shrugged as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Something like that. Actually, I wasn’t investigating. I was following a dog. I had no idea this was back here and, to be honest with you, had no idea what it might be until Midas told me about what palmettos were used for. It’s kind of sad here, isn’t it?”
Joshua quietly agreed as he held the camera up and studied the screen for a minute or two while we made our way to the large stone. “See anything?” she asked as she stood on tiptoe and peeked over his shoulder.
“Lots of birds and a few squirrels but not much else. That’s a good thing. Lots of heat out here. That stone is positively glowing.” I peered at the image of the warm rock. Joshua asked, “What do you have in mind, Midas?”
“Let’s have Cassidy lead an EVP session?”
Cassidy shivered visibly and rubbed her arms. “Ooh. Rabbit ran over my grave. Sure, I’ll go first, but I don’t know about wandering into those palmettos. Not only do they look painful, but I haven’t forgotten about that snake. He’s in here somewhere, I’m pretty sure. Hopefully, he’s by himself.”
“Snake?” I’d forgotten what a huge fan Joshua was of snakes. Or spiders. But then again, he wasn’t a fan of much of anything when it came to the creepy crawlies.
“There’s probably nothing in here except us. We’re making quite a bit of noise.” Well, it sounded good. I could tell neither one of them believed me.
Cassidy took her spot on the rock and put the digital recorder beside her. “Is there anyone here? Would you like to talk to us?” She waited a few seconds and continued, “My name is Cassidy, and these are my friends Midas and Joshua. What is your name?” She waited a few more seconds, and we scanned back the tape. There was a little bit of a scuffling sound but nothing discernible. No voices. Cassidy chewed on her bottom lip and frowned up at me. “I think you should give it a shot, Midas.” Joshua focused the camera on us and then panned the field again slowly.
“Okay.” I waited a few seconds and sat beside her. I don’t know why, but I felt as if I needed to wait. Wait for the air to get still. There was a soft breeze rustling through the palm fronds, and a whippoorwill called in the distance. It would be perfectly peaceful if we weren’t in a cemetery. The palms moved slowly as if whatever was buried beneath them moved and shifted, struggling to break through. Even in the dark, it looked like the carpet of the forest was alive. And now it was my turn to shiver. “Is there anyone here? We are staying at the farmhouse not far from here. Do you know the place?” I could almost discern a soft voice in my ear. I counted ten seconds and continued, “Were you in the war? Did you die here?”
“Check it out, Midas. I think I heard something,” Joshua whispered to me. Why were we whispering? There was no one out here except the three of us. No one living, anyway. I pushed the playback button on the device and waited. It was always a bit strange to hear your voice on a recording.
“There! I heard it. I heard something at the end,” Cassidy said, all excited now.
“I did too. Play it again, Midas.” Joshua was leaning over me with his ear cocked towards the tiny device.
My voice recording said, “Did you die here?” Very clearly now, I heard whispering too. A man whispering. It sounded like a question.
“What’s he saying?” Joshua squatted beside us. “‘Where is’…what’s that last part? I can’t make it out.”
We listened a few more times, and then awareness crossed Cassidy’s face. The moon was coming up, and her skin glowed slightly in its light. “He’s asking, ‘Where is my dog?’” She put her hand to her mouth, and goose pimples rose up on my arms. This had to be more than a coincidence. Cassidy came back here looking for a dog, and now this voice was asking about a dog. The three of us agreed on that point, but the only way we would know for sure was to listen on a better device.
“Let me try again.” I agreed, and she clicked the record button. “I think I saw your dog here yesterday. He was looking for you. Tell us what your name is so we can bring him back to you.” We waited a little while longer and asked a few more questions but heard nothing else.
“Anything on the IR?” I checked with Joshua. He shook his head, and we did another sweep around the palmetto field but came back with the same results.
“Let’s get back to the farmhouse and put this on the computer. Maybe if we analyze this on the laptop, we’ll hear something else. So far, I’m impressed.”
Cassidy slid her arm in mine. “Sounds like a plan. I’m ready to get out of here.” My excitement rose with every step we took. Yeah, it had been a while. Time to get this investigation going into full gear.
As expected, the crew was putting the final touches on the setup, and now they were gathered in the kitchen so there wasn’t much we had to do to get going. I quickly handed Little Sister the audio. “You have to hear this.” With an excited expression she plugged in the device, and we listened to the sound pouring over the laptop’s excellent speakers. Without giving any hints as to what we thought it said, I waited. Aaron was the first to confirm it.
“‘Where is my dog’? Is that right? You hear it?”
“Right. That’s what I heard too.” Cassidy began to explain what the dog looked like and how many times she’d seen him.
Sierra’s eyebrows lifted as she glanced at Cassidy. “I saw that dog sitting next to you in the bathroom. He had black ears and a gray body with black spots on it. I’ve seen dogs like him before in magazines. I think he must be some kind of hunting dog.”
“You saw the dog?” Cassidy asked her, amazed. “Where did you see him?”
Sierra swallowed and said without hesitation, “In the bathroom. He was sitting next to you when I came looking for you earlier. He was there one second and then gone the next.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t know we were looking for a ghost dog.”
Cassidy laughed, but it wasn’t a genuine laugh. “You could have said something.”
/> “I see and feel things all the time and don’t tell you guys about it.” And then she looked away, focusing her attention on the computer again. Call it intuition or just knowing Sierra, but I sensed there was something she wasn’t telling us. But now wasn’t the time to push the issue.
“One place we haven’t checked out yet is the basement. I don’t know how old it is. Jason is camping out with the members of his reenactment group tonight, so he’s not here to ask. And there may or may not have been any activity down there, but let’s check it out anyway. Peter, why don’t you and Aaron head down there and sweep the place?” I pulled up a chair and sat next to the petite blonde. “I’ll hang back here with Sierra. You guys up to checking that room out again?”
Joshua picked up the camera again. “Sure. I’ll take the IR.” With a frustrated glance, Cassidy walked out of the room, taking the digital recorder with her. We watched them walk past the cameras, down the hall and into the guest room, the same one where Cassidy and I saw the chair moving on its own. There wasn’t a light on in the place, and we did our best to cover the windows to prevent outside light from seeping in. But with so many people camped out and vehicles rolling in and out, it was kind of difficult to do.
“What’s up?” I asked Sierra, who was pretending that I wasn’t there studying the cameras with her. She’d left her hair down today and looked a lot like the girl I met five years ago. We met in the Mobile Public Library, and I quickly discovered she was an excellent researcher. She and Joshua had been a part of the original team, and I truly felt that Gulf Coast Paranormal would be nothing without those two.
Spooked on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 3) Page 17
