Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (40 page)

She opened her eyes to true horror.

There were twice as many men on the field. And there were no
spectators. Broken, bleeding, riddled with bullets, soldiers in
blue and in gray lay Uttering the field. A horse whinnied in terror
and went down. Bullets flew hard and furious...she heard the whap
of one as it struck the tree near her.

Darcy had closed her eyes...and opened them to a vision of
what had once been real. It was appalling, horrifying.
Northern soldiers and Southern soldiers, praying to the same God,
dying...praying that they headed for the same heaven. For a moment,
the image, and the pain it awakened, was almost unbearable.

At her side, she heard a whining sound. She shook her head and
blinked.

And she was drawn back to the present.

She heard the crowd yelling in appreciation. Oola pawed her,
huge brown eyes wide with distress as they fell upon Darcy.

"It's okay, girl," she said, hugging the dog. "I'm back."

Suddenly, Oola barked excitedly. Darcy looked back to see a
soldier emerging from the powder that now seemed to blanket the
entire scene.

"Darcy?"

"Clint!"

She rose, dusting her hands on her skirt. "That was truly
magnificent. So sad, of course, but it's true, the
reenactment really makes you appreciate what it must have
been like."

He grinned at her. "Hey, Matt is off the field, too. Let's mount
up, and we'll find him."

"Where's your horse?"

Clint sighed. "I told you, I had to go down at the first volley.
My horse is with the Yankees now." He grinned. "We'll get him back
later. My buddy, Aaron Swenson got to capture him. I'll hop up with
you on Nellie for now, if it's all right."

"Of course, it's all right," Darcy said.

She mounted first. Clint leapt up ably behind her. Oola stared
at them, barking furiously.

"Oola, what is the matter with you?" Darcy said. "Clint, which
way?"

"That way," he said, and pointed ahead.

"Are you sure? Isn't that back toward the house, through the
fields?"

"You're disoriented, Darcy. It's the powder. Trust me, I know
where I'm going."

He'd had a hell of a good time, Matt had to admit. Riding off
the field in triumph, laughing with James Arnold, head of one
of the Union companies, he congratulated his friend on the
excellent fake sword fight they had waged, and their speed and
prowess in getting off the field.

"Hey, Matt, never give it up!" James told him, giving him a
thumbs-up sign as they left the field.

Matt nodded and grinned, then realized that his cell phone was
ringing.

"Hey, did you guys have those back then?" James teased.

"Hell, no. We'd have won the war if we'd had 'em," Matt said.
"Sheriffs have to carry them," he said in something of an
apology.

He urged his horse a distance from the field as he punched in to
answer.

"Hello? Matt Stone."

"Matt! Jesus! I've been trying to get you for hours."

"Randy?" Matt said, his muscles tensing instantly at his
friend's tone. "You found the bones?"

"No, but I found something else."

"What?"

"You know you asked me about missing persons?"

"Yep."

"There are at least five women last seen in or around your area
who've been reported missing."

A strange freeze settled over Matt.

"I can change and get right up there."

"No need. I can fax you this stuff. But get this-none of them
were really from the area. Just passing through. But this one,
Susan Howell, twenty-six, five-five, one-hundred-twenty pounds.
Professional girl, no family, last seen at the gas station right by
the highway exit to Stoneyville. Here's another. Catherine
Angsley, last seen at the drugstore on the town line. She came from
Stamford, Connecticut, folks deceased, another professional,
a biochemist, made good money, and was reported missing
months
after that incident by a grandmother, who has since
passed
away. Then there's-"

"Stop!" Matt said. "Give me the names again!"

"Susan Howell, Catherine Angsley. There's a Tammy Silvera-hey,
have you ever heard of these women?"

"Yes," Matt said dully. "They dated a friend of the family. A
man named Carter Sutton." He looked anxiously around the field. He
could see nothing but powder. Darcy had left the house that day
with Carter and Clint. He hadn't seen any of them since, except for
Clint, when he lay on the ground after the first volley.

"Randy, I've got to go. We need APBs out on Carter Sutton, right
away. I've got to find him. I need you to get to my own men for
me-I've got to get searching through this crowd."

He rang off, not waiting for Randy's reply; he knew the man
would take it from mere.

Right then, he felt a sense of sheer panic.

Carter had dated the women, yes. Didn't mean that Carter
had made them disappear.

Clint, and Carter. They both went through women with total
nonchalance.

He felt ill, thinking that Darcy still might be with either of
them.

Activity was spinning around him. Where the hell were they?

This way.

He almost fell off his horse. The whisper again. He looked
toward the trees. Nothing.

This way!

The whisper, urgent, fierce.

He started to ride.

"Wait a minute-maybe I am going the wrong way," Clint said. "I
don't believe this! I'm disoriented myself. Hang on a minute."

Clint dismounted and disappeared into the smoke. Darcy waited.
At her side, Oola began growling.

"What is it, girl?"

A moment later, a man emerged from the trees. But it wasn't
Clint. It was Carter.

"Hey, lady! You're going the wrong way!" he called
cheerfully.

Oola growled again.

"Shush, girl! It's only Carter. Where's Clint?"

"I was riding his horse. I gave it back to him. Let me mount up
and show you the right way to go."

"Come on up."

"Turn her around," Carter said. She did so, and they started to
trot.

"My God, that smoke carries!" Darcy said.

"I know. It's blinding, right."

"Big time!"

"Hey, pull up ahead for a minute, will you?"

"Sure." Darcy frowned, trying to see clearly. They had come to
the area where the bridge spanned the rushing stream. "Why are we
here?"

"Sorry, it's on the way back to the house. We're meeting
up there. But I had to run over and do duty on the bridge after the
first engagement. I lost a glove. Do you mind? It will only take a
minute for me to feel around for it." Carter smiled at her, and
slipped from the horse's back. "Hey! How about giving me a hand. It
will go faster."

"Sure."

Carter helped her down.

"Go on. Let me just tether Nellie to this tree."

Nonchalantly, Carter started toward the bridge. Darcy tethered
Nellie to a branch, then turned back. To her amazement, Oola
started to growl again and went rushing toward the bridge. She
heard the dog yelp.

"Oola! Carter, what happened?"

Halfway to the bridge, she came to a sudden halt. She could see
Carter, standing there, waiting for her.

She could also see a strange white form through the mist.

"Darcy? What are you waiting for?"

"What happened to the dog?"

"I don't know. Maybe she stepped on a sharp stone or
something."

Darcy didn't move. The white mist was next to Carter. She
couldn't believe that he didn't see it, especially against the
smoky tinge the day had taken on.

"Darcy, what on earth is the matter with you?"

"The ghost is there, Carter. Right next to you," she said.

He jumped, staring around. But he still didn't see. He turned
back to Darcy, his eyes narrowing. "Come here, Darcy."

' 'Not on your life, Carter."

But she wasn't prepared. He ran like a bat out of hell, so
suddenly and swiftly that she had barely screamed and turned to run
before he was on top of her, grappling her to the ground. "You're
going over the bridge, Darcy. This time, you're going over. I meant
business at the cemetery-but again, I thought you'd be smart
enough to get away from here. No, not you. So...before you find the
bones again, Darcy, you've got to have a real fall."

He held her down. But her fingers were grasping in the dirt. She
managed to get a handful. She got a good grip, and threw it in his
eyes. His hold on her eased as he shouted in pain, instinctively
bringing his hands to his face as he tried to clear his vision.

Darcy took full advantage. She brought her knee to his groin
with all her strength. He howled with pain. She shot to her
feet.

But before she could run, his fingers wound around her ankle,
and he jerked her hard, back down to the earth.

The world spun in black. She felt him picking her up. She knew
he meant to take her to the bridge and throw her over. And she
would break her neck, or smash her skull, and she would die there,
and when they found her...

Well, it would look as if she had gotten lost in the black
powder. Wandered over the bridge, fallen....

"You killed her, the girl in the smokehouse," Darcy said,
praying her strength would return.

"Her? Yeah, I killed the girl in the smokehouse." He looked down
at her. "Kind of a sad thing, really. You're terrific, Darcy. You
really are. But you just had to go and find the bones. And open the
whole can of worms. I really am sorry, Darcy. But...hopefully," he
said softly, "it will be quick."

She had gathered her senses again. The world had ceased to
spin.

She raised her fist with all her strength against his eye. He
grunted, doubling in pain, and she raked her nails down his arm,
escaping his hold and falling hard to the ground.

They had come to the bridge.

And he was scrambling to get ahold of her again.

_______ 19____

Matt raged inwardly at himself for being a fool. Even as he
carefully rode Vernon through the crowds of people, he flicked open
his phone again and called Thayer. The phone rang and rang. He knew
his deputy was in the midst of the throng, and swore, praying that
Thayer would hear the call. He had about given up when he heard,
"Thayer here."

"Thayer, it's Matt. I can't explain but get all our men looking
for Carter Sutton. Hold him."

"Hold Carter? On what charge?"

"Suspicion of murder."

"Murder? Carter?"

"Damn it, Thayer, just do it. Get him, and hold him. And keep an
eye out for Darcy Tremayne."

"She murdered someone?"

"Thayer, I don't have time. Just do it."

"I'm right on it, Matt."

He clicked off, swearing that he should be in the midst of so
many people. With the exhibition over, they were thronging over the
fields.

Thayer had been alerted; whether his deputy thought he had gone
off the deep end or not, he would see that every man they had was
looking for Carter. And just because women Carter had dated were
missing did not mean that Carter had murdered.
But a number of
women Carter had
dated were missing, and a skeleton had
been discovered on property Carter knew like the back of his hand.
Then the skeleton had disappeared. And he didn't know where Carter
was, and he didn't have Darcy. Carter didn't know that his game
might be up anyway, that Matt had asked the FBI to run a check of
missing women. In Carter's mind, Darcy must surely be dangerous. If
he had stolen the bones from the morgue, he must be afraid that
Darcy could find them again, wherever he had taken them.

And there was a voice in his head, telling him which way to
go. Insane, but hell, everyone had instinct. And instinct was
telling him to follow the voice.

He ignored the sound when he first heard his name called, he was
so intent on following his intuition, or the voice.

Then he realized that it was Adam Harrison, and he pulled in on
the reins.

"Matt, there's no sign of Darcy," he said. "Clint went to find
her. He'd left her in the rear for a better view. Now Clint hasn't
returned. I'm not Darcy, Matt, but I have one damned bad
feeling."

"Adam, I have that feeling myself. But don't worry. I'm going
for Darcy."

He nudged Vernon and moved on. He had cleared the battlefield
when he was blocked again by someone on horseback, hazy in the
black smoke, but solidly on the trail.

"Matt!" she cried.

Lavinia. On a horse. Lavinia, who hated horses.

"Lavinia, what the hell are you doing? Get out of my way."

"Matt! Please, you have to listen to me," she said.

"Not now, Lavinia."

"You have to listen to me. I told Carter I wanted to be with
Darcy to watch the show. He said sure, then disappeared. And
I can't find her now. Or Carter. Or Clint! Matt, there are a few
things that I never told you. And when I was going through the
crowd, I saw some guy in blue with Clint's horse. They've all
disappeared. Matt, there's something I never told you-"

"You're too late, Lavinia, whatever it is. Get out of my way."
He urged Vernon forward, heedless of her presence there.

"Wait, Matt!" She grappled for the reins as Vernon forced her
horse off the side of the trail. "Please listen to me! I was
certain I was wrong, that I had to be wrong
•••but I'm afraid for Darcy."

"Damn it, I'm afraid for her, too! That's why I'm trying to find
her."

He went on past her, nudging Vernon into a lope.

She was following him, swearing as she clung to the saddle.

"I'm coming with you!" she called out to him.

"Go back! You'll slow me down."

"No, no...I can keep up."

"Do what you want, but stay out of my way."

He nudged Vernon into greater speed. Nothing seemed to matter
anymore except for the voice in his head, guiding him onward.

But in the grayness of the day, Vernon suddenly reared. Behind
Matt, Lavinia screamed, trying to maintain her seat. Matt
controlled his panicked horse, then saw the dark bundle in the road
ahead of him. He dismounted quickly, hunkering down, his heart in
his throat.