The Abandoned (5 page)

Still in shock, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“I hope I’m not calling too early. Or coming across too eager.”

“Who is this?”

A pause. “Hayden.”

“Hayden…” She clutched the phone.

“From last night.” He said something under his breath. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Of course, I remember you.” He’d pretty much occupied every waking moment until news of Tisdale’s murder had plopped her so unceremoniously back into the real world. “I’m sorry. I’m a little distracted at the moment.” Her gaze went back to the television screen. Thankfully, the photograph was gone and the anchor had moved on to another story.

“Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.”

“Anything I can do?”

The genuine concern in his voice made Ree realize how long it had been since she’d had a confidant. Her mother was still trapped in her bitterness and her father was too busy with his new life. Ree wasn’t sure how it had happened, but at some point between college and grad school all her friends had moved on. And at that moment, she’d never felt more alone.

“Ree?”

“Maybe you can help,” she said. “I think I need some legal advice.”

“Okay. But you do understand I’m not allowed to practice law without a license. Any advice I offer will have to be of the unofficial variety.”

“So long as I can still invoke the attorney-client privilege.”

His voice grew sober. “What’s going on?”

Ree suddenly felt as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. Tears burned her eyes, which made her angry with herself. A man had been murdered. He’d probably left loved ones behind. This was no time for self-pity. “I didn’t tell you everything about that conversation I overheard at the hospital.”

“No?”

“Dr. Farrante was being blackmailed by a man named Jared Tisdale.

He threatened to expose a secret that their families have kept hidden for three generations. Whatever it is, it has something to do with Miss Violet and her mother, Ilsa. I just heard on the news that Tisdale was found shot to death in his home this morning. Maybe it’s just some awful coincidence. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Dr. Farrante. But if I go to the police—”

“
If
, Ree?”

She dragged trembling fingers through her hair. “Dr. Farrante will know that I overheard that blackmail scheme. If he killed Tisdale, what’s to stop him from coming after me?”

“If Farrante is involved, going to the police could be your best protection,” Hayden said. “And if you don’t tell them what you know, you’re technically impeding an official investigation. Cops don’t like that.”

“I know, but—”

“For all the inroads in forensic science, the best way to establish a reliable timeline is still finding the person or persons who last saw the victim alive. That could be you, Ree. Not to mention the fact that you can provide a motive.”

“I know all that. I guess I just needed to hear someone spell it out for me.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “We’ll call it moral support.”

“You’d do that?” She felt pathetic, even asking.

“Just give me a chance to clear up a few things here. I’ll meet you outside police headquarters in half an hour.…”

But he didn’t show. Ree waited for almost forty-five minutes in front of the building on Lockwood before giving up. Then climbing the south-side stairs, she squared her shoulders and marched inside before she could change her mind. In very short order, she was escorted to a small and rather antiseptic-looking office where she was told to wait for someone named Devlin.

He appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, a tall, stylish man with dark hair and a face so pale and thin, one might even call him gaunt. Strangely, this only enhanced his attractiveness. Ree judged him to be in his early to midthirties, though when he turned his head a certain way and the light hit him just right, he could have been a decade older. His high cheekbones were sharply defined, his lips full and sculpted. When he walked into the room, the air seemed to collapse and Ree struggled to catch her breath. He had an almost palpable charisma, an intensity that was so deeply masculine, she found herself thinking of dark things. Inappropriate things. And that made her think of Hayden and she wished he was there with her.

As the detective’s gaze collided with hers, Ree was reminded of something her grandmother had said about Amelia Gray:
She has the kind of eyes that can see right down into your soul.

That described this man’s gaze perfectly.

Shuddering, she glanced away as he strode across the office and sat down behind the desk. “I understand you have information regarding Jared Tisdale’s murder.” His voice was rich and deep, and he spoke with the sensual cadence of the native Charlestonian.

“I have information about Jared Tisdale,” Ree clarified. “I don’t know if it has anything to do with his murder.”

Devlin pushed a recorder toward the edge of the desk. His hands were very graceful, she noticed. His fingers long and elegant—

“If you have no objection…”

She did, actually, but was too intimidated to say so. “No, it’s fine.” It was all she could do not to fidget under the man’s relentless scrutiny.

“State your name, address and occupation,” he said.

She started to speak when the door swung open and a man—another detective, she assumed—stuck his head in the office. “You’re needed outside.”

Devlin scowled. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“This can’t wait.”

He shot Ree an apologetic look and stood. “Sorry. This shouldn’t take along.”

She nodded and sat twiddling her thumbs for a few minutes until she grew restless and stood. Going to the door, she glanced out over the rows of desks and cubicles. She could see Devlin’s profile through a glass panel in an office across the room. Another man stood with his back to the glass as the detective who’d come for Devlin faced him. They appeared to be in the middle of a very tense conversation. Devlin seemed little more than a bystander, though Ree had a feeling that when he spoke, the other two would listen.

The third man turned suddenly, and Ree stepped back, her heart thudding. It was Dr. Farrante.

This was not good. This was not at all good.

Clutching the strap of her messenger bag, she eased back to the door.

“Can I help you?” A female officer walking by had caught Ree staring out over the squad room.

She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for the ladies’ room.”

The officer angled her head. “Back that way. Take a left.”

“Thanks.”

Ree kept walking, right on past the restroom, through the lobby, down the stairs and never once did she look back until she hit the parking lot. And only then when she heard someone call out her name.

It was Hayden.
He’d just gotten out of his car and was striding toward her. Relief washed over her and without thinking, she launched herself into his arms. He must have been caught completely by surprise, but he pulled her close without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ree pushed away just enough to glance over her shoulder. “I need to get out of here.”

Nine out of ten men would have wasted time with more questions, but Hayden merely said, “My car’s right over here.”

“What about mine?”

“We’ll pick it up later. Come on.”

A moment later, they sped out of the parking lot and wheeled onto the street.

Hayden glanced at her. “Sorry I’m late, by the way. I got stuck in a meeting with the partners. No cell phones allowed so I couldn’t even text you.”

“That’s okay.” It hit Ree then why he looked so different. He was wearing a suit. This was the attorney-to-be Hayden. The buttoned-down, conventional Hayden. “You look nice,” she said, a rather inane observation considering her predicament.

“Thanks.” He loosened his tie and tossed it aside. Then he unbuttoned his collar. “Now I can breathe.”

She found herself wondering about
that
subtext.

“So what happened back there, Ree? You’re as white as a ghost.” He grimaced. “Sorry, bad joke.”

She told him about Dr. Farrante.

He heard her out, then shrugged. “You know, it’s possible he was there for the same reason as you.”

“I thought about that. But there was something very strange about that meeting. I had the distinct impression they all knew one another. And they were so
intense
. I could practically smell the conspiracy.”

“Through the glass and all the way across the squad room? That’s potent.” He sounded amused.

“Make fun all you want, but I’m very good with body language. It’s one of my strengths.”

“I’m sure it is. And I’m not making fun. Just playing devil’s advocate. What would those two detectives have to gain by conspiring with Nicholas Farrante?”

“Maybe he’s bribing them. Or maybe they work for the Order of the Coffin and the Claw.”

He swerved sharply to miss a squirrel.

“It’s a secret society like the Skull and Bone Society at Yale,” she told him.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it.” He kept his gaze focused on the road. “Most people assume it’s an urban legend. And anyway, what does it have to do with Farrante?”

“I think he’s a member. I heard him tell Tisdale that he wouldn’t dare go against the wishes of the Order.”

“Interesting,” Hayden mused. “Did he say anything else?”

“About the Order? No, but I did some research last night,” Ree said. “It’s been around since before the Civil War. They recruit from only the most prominent families in Charleston and they’ve always had members in positions of power in government, business and academia. Evidently, they were once a force to be reckoned with in this city.”

“Not to sound elitist, but it doesn’t seem like a police detective would meet that criteria,” Hayden said.

“Oh, but Devlin would. He’s no run of the mill cop. He’s not a run of the mill anything. The way he speaks, dresses, carries himself…he’s from money. Old money. I’d swear on it.”

Hayden shot her look. “He seems to have made quite an impression. Should I be jealous?”

“No, he’s not my type,” Ree said with a shiver. “And if he has anything to do with the Order of the Coffin and the Claw, he’s
really
not my type.”

“Good to know,” Hayden muttered.

Ree stared out the window at the passing scenery. The morning was bright and sunny, but she focused on a bank of storm clouds in the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening. This time yesterday, my biggest worry was finishing my thesis so that I can graduate, find a job and start digging myself out of debt. Now I’m a material witness in a murder investigation. And for all I know, the cops could be looking for me right this very moment.”

“Try to relax. We’ll figure something out.”

“Easy for you to say.” She sighed. “Sorry. You’ve been great. I’m just on edge.”

“That’s understandable. Maybe it would help if we go somewhere quiet and talk it through. When do you have class?”

“Not until this afternoon. But I have a meeting with Amelia Gray at ten.”

“Who’s she?”

Ree tucked a strand of hair behind one hear. “Didn’t I tell you about her? She’s the cemetery restorer that Tisdale mentioned. We grew up in the same town so I contacted her. I thought she might be able to tell me something about Oak Grove.”

“Good thinking. Mind if I tag along?”

Ree turned to find him staring at her intently. His gaze unsettled her because she couldn’t quite read him yet. “Don’t you have to get back to the office?”

He grinned. “They’re used to my disappearances. They’ll just think I’ve gone off somewhere to study for the bar.”

“And how long have you been going off somewhere to study for the bar?” she asked lightly.

“Since December. Circumstances kept me from taking the exam in February so now I’ll have to wait until July. Leaves me plenty of time for the odd side project.”

Did he consider her one of those odd side projects? Ree wondered.

He was watching her again, half smiling.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing. Tell me about this Amelia person we’re going to see.”

Ree still wondered about that smile. “She was…different. I don’t ever remember seeing her at a party or a ball game or any other kind of social event. She spent a lot of time in cemeteries. Her father was a caretaker and I think she helped him out a lot. She wasn’t a total outcast, but she was known for being a bit of a freak.”

“In that case, I look forward to meeting her,” Hayden said, and a prickle of jealousy caught Ree completely by surprise.

A little while later, Ree wondered if she might have built up Amelia’s eccentricity a little too much because when she opened the door she couldn’t have looked more normal. No fluttering silk. No crown of roses. In fact, she was dressed much like Ree in jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. Light makeup. Ponytail. Just your average girl next door.

Hayden lifted a brow and Ree shrugged as Amelia led them back to her office, a pleasant room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases and tall windows that looked out on a garden. While she went to make tea, they studied the framed photos on the walls—graveyards double-exposed over cityscapes. The effect was lovely, but a little gloomy for Ree’s taste.

“How long have you been interested in cemeteries?” Amelia asked as she came back in with a tea tray.

“It’s a recent development,” Ree said. “Although I used to visit Rosehill with my grandmother. She loved all the symbols on the old headstones. She called it graveyard art.”

“I love it, too,” Amelia said as she fiddled with the cups. “Gravestone symbolism can tell you a lot about the deceased. How they lived and how they died. And about the loved ones they left behind.” She offered them tea, then waved toward a chaise as she sat down behind her desk. Ree and Hayden perched side by side with their cups.

Ree’s gaze slipped back to Amelia. She looked young and innocent sitting there in the morning light—younger than Ree, even—but there was something dark in her face. Something cold and shadowy behind her blue eyes.