Krewe 11 - The Night Is Forever

by Heather Graham

  She nodded. “I’d like to go to the Horse Farm. I just want... I want to tell Sydney and Drew that we’ll do everything in our power.... That we’ll hang in there.” She looked at him. “Dustin, if someone wanted the Horse Farm—I’m the next person in line.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  “So people can’t be dying for the Horse Farm—I mean, there is no Horse Farm if we don’t have any clients. Any guests.”

  “I know.” Dustin looked straight ahead as he drove, hardly able to bear her stoicism, her emotional restraint. He knew she had to be suffering and understood that she wasn’t ready to express her grief.

  When they reached the Horse Farm, Olivia sighed audibly.

  Drew and Sydney had dragged a couple of feed crates out front. They sat on them—both cradling shotguns as they squinted down the road.

  Olivia hopped out of the car and approached them. “What the hell are you two doing?” she demanded.

  “You heard, right?” Sydney asked her thickly. “Aaron—he’s dead.”

  “In the bathtub,” Drew said. “Electrocuted. They’re saying it was an accident.”

  “Accident?” Sydney snorted. “Accident, my ass. We should’ve been listening to you a lot earlier, Olivia.”

  “You saved the poor bastard’s life,” Drew said, shaking his head at Dustin. “And then he goes and takes a bath!”

  “Who knew bathing could be lethal?” Sydney said dully.

  Olivia set a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all so sorry,” she said. “I’m going to miss him so much.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” Sydney asked.

  “We’ll—we’ll just go on. Somehow, we’ll go on. I’m going to get out a press release saying that we’re closed—in mourning. We’ll reopen in a few weeks,” Olivia said.

  “Horses have to eat,” Drew mumbled. “I can manage, though. And if you need financial help...”

  “Thank you.” She gave him a shaky smile. “But I think our operating sheets are pretty good. We can maintain the place for a few months without digging into anyone’s personal funds and if it comes to that—well, we’ll figure it out.” Olivia cleared her throat. “I don’t think the two of you need to sit here with shotguns.”

  “Yeah. We just need to stay out of bathtubs,” Drew said.

  “And out of the woods,” Sydney added.

  “Duck flying needles,” Drew muttered.

  “And darts,” Sydney agreed.

  “I have people coming in this afternoon,” Dustin told him. “We’ll get someone to stay here at the Horse Farm. I don’t think either of you is a target, though.”

  “Maybe someone wanted to kill Marcus to get this place, except that doesn’t make sense because of all the trusts and the nonprofit and...” Sydney’s voice trailed off. He shook his head and began again. “If there had been someone who wanted Marcus dead, logically it would’ve been Aaron. But now Aaron’s dead, and next in line is Olivia...and...”

  “Is Liv a target now?” Drew asked bluntly.

  “Maybe. But you don’t need to worry unduly. Some people will believe that what happened to Aaron was an accident. He was alone in his house—there was a deputy stationed outside it,” Dustin explained.

  “We had to go through this twice—thinking he died,” Drew said. “That isn’t fair.” He glanced at Dustin with a look of resignation on his face. “He’s really dead this time, huh?”

  Dustin thought about Aaron’s corpse in the bathtub. “He’s really dead,” he said. “I’m sorry. And I’m sure you’re safe enough. You can go into your apartments. Just be aware of whoever’s around. You have plenty of dogs here to bark if any cars drive in.”

  “Yeah,” Sydney told Drew. “We’ve got all the dogs.”

  “We’ll still keep the rifles handy,” Drew insisted.

  “Just don’t shoot each other, okay?” Olivia said, trying to smile.

  “We’ll solve this thing. Really,” Dustin promised.

  Sydney looked at him skeptically. “How do you solve accidents, Dustin? How do you solve accidents that happen when no one else is around?”

  “Someone else was around. And we’ll figure out who. Liv, come on. We’ve got to get to the station.”

  “You two take care,” Olivia told them.

  Andrew nodded. “Yep. We’ll take care. And you take care of Olivia, Dustin. Agent Blake. Don’t you let anything happen to her!” he said fiercely.

  “I’m going to be fine,” Olivia vowed. She let Dustin lead her to the car. He could tell that she was trembling.

  “You are going to be fine,” he murmured.

  He drove to the station. She sat beside him, pale and silent.

  “Olivia?” he said quietly.

  She turned to him. “I can’t grasp it! I can’t seem to grasp it. Aaron is really dead. I feel...numb. I should hurt more. A friend and a colleague is dead. I cared about Aaron. I just feel...numb.”

  “You’ll cry in time,” he said. “Being numb right now is probably good. It’s a kind of emotional protection. We still have a ways to go until we get to the end of this case so being numb will help you get through it.”

  “If I do feel anything...I’m angry.”

  “Anger isn’t a bad thing, either.”

  She was silent again until they arrived at the station. A deputy led them down a hall and into an observation area. It abutted an interrogation room with a one-way mirror. While Sandra could only see her own reflection, they could watch her sitting at a table. She looked lost and alone and she’d obviously been crying. For a moment, Dustin wondered if she could be involved in any way. She appeared to be stricken—with grief? Or remorse? She hadn’t been the one to kill Aaron, but did she know who had? Was Sandra’s not being at the house on purpose?

  Frank Vine opened the door and came in to join them. “Hell, Dustin, do you really think this woman could’ve had anything to do with Aaron’s death? She really looks like she’s been through the wringer.”

  “Just go in and talk to her, Frank. Ask her if she can imagine why anyone would want to hurt Aaron,” Dustin said.

  “All right.” He sighed heavily. “You do realize that to anyone else in law enforcement, I’d look like an idiot. An old addict’s dead and a man—who was apparently alone in his house with a cop watching—electrocuted himself in a bathtub.”

  “But you know that someone’s been running around with drugged darts. That’s a fact,” Dustin reminded him. “Frank, come on. First, Aaron pitches forward into a stream and nearly dies in two feet of water. Then he’s electrocuted in a bathtub?”

  “The man should have stayed dirty,” Frank muttered as he left them in the observation room and went in to sit across from Sandra.

  Jimmy Callahan slipped into the room with Dustin and Olivia. He nodded to both of them. “Think this’ll help?” he asked.

  “We’ve got to try everything,” Dustin told him.

  Then he grew silent and they all watched Sandra as the interrogation began.

  Sandra almost pounced on Frank. “Frank, what am I doing in here? This is one of the worst days of my life! It is the worst day of my life. The man I loved is dead, my work is in the toilet—no, it’s already flushed away. Oh, that doesn’t matter. Aaron is dead! And you have me here, treating me like...like some kind of suspect. I need to lie down. I need to be sedated. I want to sleep. I want to forget everything that’s happened. I want to dream that it hasn’t happened.”

  “Sandra, we believe you may be able to help us,” Frank said.

  “How?” Sandra dragged her fingers through her hair. “Frank, I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. But it might not have made any difference,” she added in a low voice, “because I might not have been in the bathroom with him when he did whatever he did. And then you would really have suspected me. I loved Aaron. Oh, the others cared about him, too. We’re a family. We all care about one another. But I loved him. We were going to officially announce that we were seeing each other. We were going to get
married, Frank. I was going to be his wife!”

  Sandra broke down in tears, sobbing hysterically. Frank pushed a box of tissues across the table to her.

  “I’m sorry, Sandra. I’m very sorry for your loss. But if you loved him, you’ll want to help us.”

  Sandra nodded, took a tissue and mopped her face. “How can I help in any way? I don’t know what happened!”

  “Why was Aaron so determined to leave the hospital so quickly?”

  Sandra waved a hand in the air. “Because he was being Aaron! He’d recovered from his near-drowning, and there was no reason for him to be in the hospital. He didn’t even have a headache, he told me. He was fine and he wanted to go home.”

  “Sandra, did you let anyone know when Aaron was going home?” Frank asked.

  “Yes. No. Well, kind of,” Sandra said.

  “Who?”

  “I called the Horse Farm to tell everyone that he was doing well and getting ready to check out.”

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “I left a message,” Sandra replied. “No one answered, but I know our group. They wouldn’t have been able to stay away from the farm. Our therapists would’ve gone out to check on Sydney and Drew...who might well have gone into the office.”

  “Okay, Sandra. The morning you were all camping, where were you when Mariah screamed?”

  “When Mariah screamed...” Sandra repeated dully.

  Frank leaned forward. “Sandra, listen. First Aaron falls into the stream and nearly dies. Then he does die at home in the bathtub? Supposedly alone.”

  “Stop it! Stop it, Frank! I didn’t kill him. I. Wasn’t. There!” she said, enunciating clearly.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Where were you when Mariah screamed?”

  “In my tent!”

  “And right after?”

  “Outside the tent—running around like an idiot. Watching the boys. Olivia grabbed Drew and went racing toward the sound.”

  “You loved Aaron, but you didn’t notice he wasn’t at the campsite with you?”

  “Frank. We were asleep. Suddenly, there’s this high-pitched scream. We jumped up. Aaron could have been peeing, for God’s sake!”

  “All right, Sandra,” he said quietly. “I’m going to have a deputy take you home. I just have one more question. If you called the Horse Farm and left a message, why did you drop Aaron off and then go there?”

  She sighed. “Aaron wanted me to. He asked if I’d reached anyone. I told him no, that I’d gotten voice mail. He asked if I’d go check in on Drew and Sydney, tell them he was feeling just fine and that he planned to be in the next morning. I was supposed to say we’d have a powwow so we could work on saving the Horse Farm. Not much hope of that now, huh?” she asked, and started to weep again.

  When Frank rose, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Someone’s going to take you home right now. Or would you prefer to go to the hospital? They can fix you up with something that’ll help you sleep.”

  Sandra sniffled. “Home,” she said. She looked tearfully at Frank. “Yeah, I know. I run the Horse Farm. Where we work with substance abusers. But I have a stash of sedatives at home for when I need them. I...occasionally have problems sleeping. Don’t worry. I never abuse them. I know better than that.”

  Frank nodded. “Fine. Shall we go?”

  As Frank rose to open the door for Sandra, Dustin felt his phone vibrate. He reached for it.

  Both Olivia and Jimmy Callahan watched him.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. He glanced down at his phone and immediately saw a text message from Malachi.

  “It’s your cousin,” he told Olivia. “I’m going to have him and the others meet us at your house.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  Callahan stepped aside as Frank came in. “Okay, I questioned her like you wanted, but I’m not sure where that got us. Unless it’s a massive conspiracy and both Sydney and Drew are in on it, Sandra can’t have had anything to do with this. What she says is true. She dropped Aaron off and drove to the Horse Farm. He died before she ever got back to the house.” He exhaled with frustration. “So. I questioned a grieving woman in tears. To what end?”

  “I’m not sure yet, Frank. It might have proven that she had an accomplice,” Dustin said. “Someone could have been in that house—waiting for Aaron. Someone who knew when to be there, because Sandra had told that person when he was leaving the hospital and heading home. And she did make sure that both Drew and Sydney saw her.”

  “You’re going to have to come up with a hell of a lot more than that.”

  “I know,” Dustin assured him. “Can you make sure Dr. Wilson calls me when he’s doing the autopsy?”

  “He’ll be on it this afternoon. I talked to him about thirty minutes ago.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go over to the morgue in about an hour.”

  “You should catch him right in the middle of it,” Frank said. “He only had one other body—an old-timer who keeled over eating his oatmeal. He’ll be getting on to this one pretty fast.”

  Frank turned to Olivia. “Did you see Sandra when you got up yesterday morning at the campsite?”

  “I practically collided with her when I burst out of the tent at the sound of the scream,” Olivia said.

  “Did you see her?” Frank asked Dustin.

  “No. We’d been up during the night,” Dustin said. “I woke up and found Aaron on his way to the women’s tent. He was worried because he didn’t see Mariah—who’d gone to the stream for water. When Mariah came back, half the campers were awake and Sandra was annoyed. She just wanted to get back to sleep. I stayed out by the campfire for a while, waiting to see if anyone got up again. I went back into my tent, and I heard Aaron stirring, but then Mariah screamed and I went chasing after her.”

  “Sandra was outside when I came out of the tent,” Olivia said. “But Dustin didn’t see her when he ran ahead, a few minutes before I stepped out.”

  “But she could have come out of the tent just before you did?” Frank asked.

  “It’s possible, yes,” Olivia agreed.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to get moving,” Dustin said. “I do want to be there for that autopsy, and we’ve got friends coming to Olivia’s.”

  “You’re going to make sure I get to know your friends, right?” Frank’s question wasn’t really a question.

  “You bet,” Dustin promised.

  Frank nodded. “Stay in close contact.”

  “We will.”

  Jimmy Callahan opened the door for them, tipping his hat. “Liv, take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

  As they left the station and drove to Olivia’s house, Dustin noted that she still looked shell-shocked. He wished he could do something to ease the pain and confusion she must be feeling—and he knew it was only going to get worse once she got over the sense of numbness. It protected her, to some extent, from the full reality of her losses. Still, her whole world had to be reeling.

  When they pulled into the yard, she let out a yelp of joy, leaping out of the car before he’d turned off the motor.

  Malachi Gordon stood on the porch. He was with the very tall cowboy agent Dustin had met at the office, Sloan Trent, and two women. He quickly realized that the women were Jane Everett and Abby Anderson. He hadn’t had a chance to meet all his fellow Krewe unit members before he’d gone to Tennessee, but he’d studied some of the information on them. Jane Everett was an artist who had frequently worked with the Texas police before joining the Texas Krewe. Sloan Trent had joined after working with Jane on a situation in Lily, Arizona. Abby Anderson and Malachi were a couple; they’d met when Jackson Crow brought Malachi in on serial killings that had occurred in Savannah.

  Olivia wasn’t bothering with formality at the moment. She ran over and was lifted into her cousin’s arms to be greeted, hugged and swung around. Introductions were made, Olivia telling the others that she’d heard good things about them. She dug in her pocket for her keys, but eve
n as she twisted the lock, they heard something behind the door, which appeared to move as if someone was trying to open it from within.

  Inside the house, Sammy began to bark excitedly.

  “I’ve got it,” Dustin murmured, pushing her aside. The Krewe members instantly went into alert mode, drawing their weapons. Malachi pulled Olivia against the wall as Dustin drew his own weapon and threw open the door.

  Sammy nearly knocked him over, jumping up with jubilation. Dustin holstered his weapon and stepped inside, greeting the dog and firmly ordering him down. But as he stepped into the entry, he heard excited words.

  “I did it! I touched the door. I touched the door and it almost moved. I am getting some kind of...some kind of spiritual or ectoplasmic strength!”

  Marcus Danby had finally decided to make himself known once again.

  15

  Olivia understood why Malachi had changed his life—why he’d stopped working for himself to become part of the Krewe.

  She’d known plenty of people who would get excited and swear they’d seen General Rufus Cunningham seated atop his warhorse up on a hill.

  She’d never believed that there were so many people who actually spoke with the dead and that she could sit in her own parlor serving tea to the living while the ghost of Marcus Danby was among them, repeating everything he’d told Olivia and then Dustin. It had been hard, he’d explained to her, to be somewhere. Long conversations wore him out. When he got too tired, he assumed he was in some kind of “ghost sleep” because he knew he faded, and he wasn’t sure where he was. It seemed that he needed to rest in order to gain the strength to manifest himself again. He was thrilled that he’d managed to make it look as if there was someone on the other side of the door; he was heartbroken and disturbed to discover that Aaron Bentley had now joined his ranks. He went from deep sorrow to brightness in a whirl of emotions, astounded that he was facing six people who could see and hear him.

  Dustin told the other Krewe members and Marcus everything that happened during the camping trip and what had occurred so far that day. Malachi listened gravely, then asked, “The deputy sheriff in charge, Frank Vine, he’s really come around? He’s ready to have us here?”