The Betrayed (Krewe of Hunters) (23 page)

As he started to leave the tomb, he bumped into her and instinctively set his hands on her to steady them both. He felt as if the scent of her soap or perfume pushed away that of death and decay. The warmth of her body, so close to his, was vibrant, filled with life.

He wanted to pull her against him and hold her there and believe for just a minute that he’d found the answers. That they could step into the daylight together and...

“Sorry!” he murmured.

“It’s okay. I must say, a
living
human touch in here is nice.”

Rollo whined.

“Oh, yes, and so is a dog. A dog’s always good!” she said.

He left the tomb, catching her hand so she could easily follow. Rollo had no problem; it seemed he could see in the dark.

Aidan didn’t release her hand as he picked his way through the monuments and stones to go back down to the car. She didn’t seem to mind keeping her hand in his.

As he neared the pathway that would hide the vault from their view, he looked back. For a moment, he at least imagined he could see them.

The handsome Andre—“more unlucky than criminal”—and the beautiful woman he had secretly loved before his death.

The woman who’d paid the ultimate price for loving him.

He walked on down the hill, Mo’s hand in his, Rollo beside the two of them.

What the hell did it all mean?

If he could figure that out, he just might catch the killers.

12

G
race showed up just as they returned to Mo’s house. She spoke with Aidan while Mo took Rollo inside, fed him and made sure his water bowl was filled before heading out for the night.

They said goodbye to Aidan and got into Grace’s car to leave. Grace waved as she eased out of Mo’s drive.

Then she turned to Mo, beaming. “So?”

“So?”

“Have you two done it yet?”

“Grace! He’s an agent, working on the case.”

“He’s a man, honey. You mean to tell me you haven’t...” She shook her head. “You’re one asexual woman. If you don’t do something pretty soon, what a waste! A total waste. Do you want me to offer myself up? You can’t just let a divine hunk of masculinity like that go! What’s the matter with you? I mean, what’s available here? Tommy Jensen? Creepy Tommy?”

“Grace!” Mo protested.

Grace said, “Oh, we all like Tommy now. There’s nothing wrong with him. Granted, he’s more like a brother. And Phil’s like another brother from a different mother! Or Ron...never mind, he’s gay and in a good relationship. But what are
you
doing?”

“Grace!”

“Tell me you aren’t fascinated with the guy.”

“I am.”

“Oh!” Grace said, clearly surprised. “Well, then?”

Mo sighed and swung around to look at her. “What do you want me to do, Grace? Just say, ‘Agent Mahoney, the pickings here are slim, and you’ve got all the right parts, and they seem to be in working order. Should we have sex?’”

“No, that would be rude. Crude.”

“Worse than rude or crude. Humiliating!” Mo groaned.

“It’s the way you said it. Just, ‘I’d love to have sex with you.’ That would be the way to do it,” Grace said.

Mo groaned again.

“If you don’t see it, you’re blind. Sparks seem to pop off both of you when you’re together.”

“I’m trying to help him find a killer!”

“And he
will
find the killer,” Grace said with certainty. “That’s his job. It’s what he does. But he’s still a man and he deserves a life beyond work!”

Mo couldn’t argue with that. “Don’t we all,” she murmured. “I brought him by the Haunted Mausoleum today,” she said, hoping to change the topic.

“That should’ve been fun—but I’m sure you turned it into work somehow.”

Mo didn’t answer. “We’re just studying local legends, you know?”

“And only you could make that not fun!”

Mo didn’t bother to respond; they’d reached the Haunted Mausoleum.

She went in to start her makeup right away. Grace joined Phil and some of the others and indulged in donuts.

Sondra stopped by the makeup chair to tell Mo she’d enjoyed meeting Aidan Mahoney. Ron pursed his lips as he worked on Mo’s face.

Mo remembered guiltily that she’d promised to ask about a job for Debbie Howell. She told Sondra about her—and about how she’d be trying to keep the orphaned son of her murdered friend.

“You know this woman well?” Sondra asked her.

“Not that well,” Mo replied honestly. “But I’ve seen the way J.J. looks at her and I believe she’s good person and deserves a chance. She also knows everything about this area.”

“Have your friend call me. We’ll arrange an interview,” Sondra assured her. “As you know, I love doing research on the area. My family goes back so far... I could use an assistant on that angle and someone from here who knows and loves the place would be perfect. I’m researching a story about Continental currency right now.”

In the mirror, Mo could see Ron raise his brows as he worked on her hair. “Continental currency?” he asked. “What’s that?”

“The paper currency issued by the Continental Congress. A lot of it supposedly disappeared from this area before the Civil War,” Sondra said.

“Was it worth anything by that time?” he asked.

“Certainly. There were collectors then, just as there are now,” Sandra explained. “And, of course, there were thieves then, too.”

“Yeah? I’d imagine they used it for kindling!” Ron said. “When the Revolution was over, wasn’t it about useless?”

“Ron, we won the Revolution,” Sondra said, smiling.

“Yeah, but—”

“New money was printed after that, yes, and quite quickly. That’s why Continental currency became so valuable to collectors. Well, that’s all just a bit of history, and as I said, I’d like to write an article on it. Anyway, back to tonight’s work. Mo, bring your agent friend by anytime,” Sondra said, and moved on through the dressing area and makeup room to return to the front office.

“Ooh,” Ron teased Mo. “The plot thickens.”

“Continental currency?” she asked.

“No! Dating the federal lawman!”

“We’re just rehashing local legends,” Mo said.

“That’s all?”

Mo lowered her head and laughed. “No, Ron, I’ve had this weird fantasy all my life—and it’s not about a knight in shining armor. It’s about an FBI man—and fooling around naked on a cold fall day in the middle of a burial ground. Oh, the decay! Wow, what a turn-on!”

Ron laughed, too, and leaned closer to her. “You own a house, my love. Use it!”

When she was ready that night and at her post, Mo didn’t expect to see Major Andre or his Lizzie. But they were both there for a moment, waving to her. Then, hand in hand, they wandered off.

She went through the motions, her mind racing.

What could
Lizzie grave
have had to do with Richard Highsmith’s murder? It seemed more and more evident that there was no serial killer running amok. Just someone who’d wanted both Richard and Wendy Appleby dead.

* * *

Aidan didn’t go back to the hotel. Instead, he called Logan.

The suspects they were watching were all in; they’d probably head out to dinner, but the members of the Krewe were ready to follow each one of them if necessary. Detective Van Camp had been interviewing more and more people on his own, while Detective Voorhaven had been working with the agents, ready to follow a suspect if needed or scrutinize the video screens if not.

Aidan told Logan what he’d learned. Logan promised to look into the Highsmith, Hampton and Bakker lineage to see if he could find any dark secrets—or get some facts about the murder of Lizzie herself—to decipher what it could mean. And whether it related to Richard’s death...and Wendy’s.

“The hospital’s alerted me that J.J.’s being released,” Logan said. “There’s an officer with him, so he’s fine, but I’m not sure he and Debbie should go back to Wendy Appleby’s home. At least, not yet.”

Aidan agreed. “Can we get another room on our floor?”

“I’m sure we can. I’ll book something with a door that connects to one of us.”

“Then I’ll drive to the hospital now to pick them up.”

Right after that, Aidan went to the hospital.

Even considering what they’d learned, he wasn’t sure why the killer would want to kill J.J.—or, at any rate, leave him to die in the vault. What would Richard Highsmith’s relationship with a long-dead woman have to do with Wendy or J.J.? But none of it made sense. What did make sense was to watch over J.J. and keep him safe.

When he arrived at the hospital, both Debbie and J.J. were pleased to see him. And Debbie was relieved about his plan to take them to the hotel where his unit was staying.

Because of his nature—which was both protective and suspicious—and perhaps because of his work, he found that he was keeping a close eye on Debbie, too. She’d been close to Wendy Appleby. But J.J. evidently loved and trusted her; she’d been his mother’s best friend. And she appeared to be grateful that she was going to be at the hotel with the agents and the police. It made her feel safe, she said.

“I couldn’t tell J.J., of course, but I’ve been worried about leaving the hospital, about being alone with him. We could’ve gone to my apartment instead of his house, but I’m still scared. The only thing is...I can’t pay for the hotel. I haven’t worked since it all happened, and if I want to keep J.J., I don’t even have a job to go to anymore.”

“We’re taking care of it. J.J. is a material witness, so you don’t need to worry,” Aidan assured her.

They waited while the doctor came and signed the papers to release the boy. Then J.J. said goodbye to the medical staff who’d come to care about him. Finally, they walked down to Aidan’s car.

“Where’s Mo?” J.J. asked Aidan as they drove off.

“She’s working at the Haunted Mausoleum tonight,” Aidan told him.

“I wish you had Rollo,” J.J. mumbled.

“I’m sure you can see him tomorrow,” Aidan said. He called Logan again and found out that he’d gotten the room for Debbie and J.J. It was attached to his room. Detective Voorhaven would meet them downstairs and take them up.

Voorhaven was in the parking lot to meet them with keys. He took the bag of clothing and toiletries Wendy had brought and led the way.

Before he let her go up to their room with J.J. and Voorhaven, Aidan stopped Debbie. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Yes?”

“I need you to think of any reason at all that someone would want Wendy dead. And what her connection with Richard might have been.”

“I will. Oh, my God, yes, I will!” Debbie vowed.

He escorted her up to the room where Voorhaven waited with J.J. Once they’d settled in, Voorhaven met him at the door. “I want to apologize,” he said in a low voice.

“For what?”

“For being an ass. You know, touchy over the federal-local thing. Your guys here—and Jane!—are great. I’m sorry. We never could have handled this without you. We just don’t deal with this kind of situation very often. Thank God.”

“It’s okay, Voorhaven.” Aidan smiled.

“James or Jimmy.”

“Jimmy, it’s okay,” he said.

But when Aidan went to Logan’s suite to catch up with the others and work on their future strategy, he was dismayed that Jimmy joined them. He wasn’t ready to talk about the ghosts
he
didn’t actually see—but Mo did—in front of someone who wasn’t a part of the Krewe.

But that was easily solved. J.J. wanted to go to the hotel’s game room. Voorhaven volunteered for the duty of accompanying him and Debbie down to play games. “I don’t show mercy, even to kids,” Voorhaven warned J.J. “And I’m a kick-ass air hockey player.”

“You’re on!” J.J. told him.

When he was alone in the room with Logan, Sloan, Jane and Will, Aidan went over everything that had occurred that day.

“All the local legends coming to the fore,” Jane said. “The headless horseman, Andre’s ghost and the Woman in White. But why would anyone kill over any of them?”

“Revenge?” Will asked. “Yeah, I know, revenge for a two-hundred-year-old death may be crazy—but there are crazies out there. And as for Elizabeth Hampton and her family—Lizzie was a murder victim! If you were out to avenge her death, you wouldn’t kill her descendant.”

“There has to be an answer. I believe Richard did find out about
Lizzie grave
,” Aidan said. “But even if a man found out he was related to a woman who had been killed for her association with a Revolutionary-era spy, what would that mean today? Half the population around here can trace their ancestry back to the founding days.”

“Maybe this goes deeper,” Sloan suggested.

“People kill for love, hate, jealousy and money. I don’t see here where money enters into this. Richard poured his life’s earnings into his work. And Wendy was barely getting by,” Aidan said. “But, maybe that’s an angle to look into.”

Will stood up suddenly. “Doors opening on the Taylor Branch floor,” he said. He pointed to the screens. “Yes, there’s Branch, out in the hallway, and there’s Jillian Durfey. They’re meeting up to go out together.”

“I’m on it,” Sloan said. “I’ll be out in the car, watching them, and I’ll tail them when they leave.”

“More movement,” Jane noted. “The security guys are heading out, too. Looks like they’re surprised to see Taylor and Jillian in the hall—like it’s a coincidence that they’re all out there now.”

“Go down and be ready to leave, too,” Logan told Will.

Sloan and Will hurried to the door, and Jane followed. “I’ll take one of them if they split up.”

“Let me know as soon as possible who leaves with whom,” Logan said.

The others left. Aidan continued to watch the screens. Branch slipped an arm around Jillian Durfey’s shoulders; she looked up at him gratefully.

They moved toward the elevator.

Aidan leaned forward, trying to see if he could make out any of the conversation.

“I think the big guy—Muscles, what’s his real name? Cory Stile?—is telling Branch that they need to start looking for new jobs,” Logan said. He glanced at Aidan. “I read lips—a little. I took some lessons in sign language and I worked with the deaf years ago in college.”

“What’s Branch doing? Looks like he’s arguing with him,” Aidan said.

“Branch is telling him they can’t go yet, can’t leave town, because the police need them.”

“So there
is
trouble among the five of them,” Aidan murmured.

“I don’t know. Branch comes across as sincere,” Logan said. “As if he wants the truth.”

“Here’s what I can’t figure out. To my mind, it had to be someone close to one or both of our victims. Someone who knew that Wendy Appleby was on her way to see Richard. And if it wasn’t someone close to Richard—then who? By all accounts, Wendy was a private person.” He sighed. “We have to keep watching this group. See what they’re up to at all times.”

“I agree,” Logan assured him.

As they studied the screen, Jillian smiled at something Magic said. They both seemed to enjoy each other.

Branch pulled Jillian closer to him.

“Hmm. We can learn a lot from body language,” Aidan murmured.

“Yup. Trouble in paradise, all right. That’s good for us,” Logan said.

Aidan’s phone rang. He didn’t look away from the screen but hit Answer. It was Van Camp. “Aidan, that boy and Ms. Howell with you?” he asked.

“Yes. Detective Voorhaven took them to the games room.”

“Good. The neighbors at the Appleby house reported a disturbance. There’s a patrol car on its way. I’m going out there, too, and I’ll meet you there.”

Logan had heard their conversation, which had been on speakerphone. “I’ll get Voorhaven back up here with Wendy and J.J. and I’ll keep them in here for now. Go.”