The Seekers, page 10
She was still tired, and she didn’t want to see people, but she had no choice if she wanted something to eat.
She headed down to hopefully find a quiet table in a corner all alone.
* * *
There wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity of the Miller Inn and Tavern except for the new hotel, where Joe and Dallas would be staying one more night. But just up or down the highway, Pennsylvania offered all kinds of incredible delights: all manner of patriotic tourism, beautiful Amish country or the fun of Hersheypark.
Joe guessed they could find something for dinner at a chain restaurant down the highway, or maybe a bar. But it had been a hell of a long day that included updating Billings about the blood at the old church and getting a forensic team out again, so Joe and Dallas opted for the restaurant at their own hotel. The food was quite good after all.
They happened to head down to dinner at the same time as Carl and Keri.
It seemed that Carl and Keri were a couple, although to Joe’s understanding, they had just met when they were scheduled to do the paranormal investigation at Miller Inn and Tavern. He knew through their files that Carl was just twenty-three and Keri was twenty-nine, an age difference that probably didn’t mean much of anything, except that Keri seemed far more mature. Carl certainly behaved very much like an adult—and not a spoiled one, at that—but still, he was a heartthrob.
Of course, Keri was extremely attractive herself. She had a way about her, casual, down to earth and somehow incredibly sensual, as well. Just as she appeared in her picture in the police file. Maybe it was just the fall of her hair. Or the way she moved or walked, or the light scent of her perfume.
Maybe he was becoming a bit too enchanted...
No matter his thoughts on her—and the odd kinship he felt—she was lying. Perhaps she couldn’t quite admit the truth.
Joe and Dallas ran into Carl and Keri in line to be seated; the restaurant was rather busy.
“Hey, cool, we’ll probably get seated more quickly as a foursome,” Carl said, seeing them. “Unless, of course, you need to talk business or, I’m sorry, if you just don’t want to eat with us. Of course, we will not be offended.”
Neither Joe nor Dallas had a chance to answer. The young hostess hurried up to Carl, stars in her eyes, and said, “Please, sir, bring your party and we’ll seat you immediately, away from people.”
“Sounds good to me,” Dallas said to Joe. Joe shrugged and looked at Keri. Her face was impassive.
They followed along. The hostess was busy telling Carl how much she had loved his last movie and how shocked and horrified everyone had been to hear that a murder victim had been found at the Miller Inn and Tavern. Carl was very polite to her in turn; she thanked him, telling him how wonderful that he had come to her little area of the world.
She turned to look at Joe and Dallas, smiling and stepping back as if she appreciated height in a man. Then she glanced at Keri and let out a sigh, as if envying a woman at a table with three men.
Keri smiled, apparently amused, and thanked the hostess for seating them. Joe liked that about her; she had her own brand of confidence and was simply comfortable with herself. Of course, she should be, since male heads seemed to turn when she walked into a room.
The hostess had found them a table in a little alcove with windows that looked out to the road and a carved wooden divider between them and a row of booths. All three men waited for Keri to slide in first. To Joe’s surprise, Carl was the first to take the opposite side and Dallas took the seat next to him.
Joe found himself next to Keri, startled again by the strange instinctive pleasure being so close to her awoke in him. He reminded himself that she was with Carl, whether it was a casual or deep relationship.
“We didn’t actually mean to horn in on you,” Joe said apologetically.
“But it’s been a long day, and so we’re just grateful,” Dallas said.
“I didn’t mean to hang on to Carl’s star, either, but I’m grateful to do so as well,” Keri said, picking up her menu. “Long day, I agree.”
Their waitress came to the table, harried that night but sweet and quick to point out a few specials. She recommended the Feel-Good Meatloaf, and everyone ordered it, clearly too tired to think harder.
Their food arrived quickly, and they all tucked in immediately, quiet for a while as they ate in semi-comfortable silence.
“Did you get any sleep last night, given the night before?” Joe asked.
“Some.” Then she paused. Listening.
“Ditto,” Carl said softly and paused, too.
They could all hear a woman speaking—loudly—at a table just beyond the divider.
“It’s those people—the ghost hunters. That dead woman. She was a sacrifice, I bet,” the woman said with assurance.
“You’re wrong, and I will be proved right,” the man with her said. “It’s all because she’s an FBI agent. She went after a girl, and the girl is probably a...a runaway, conspiring with drug runners, in love with a kingpin, and ready to kill anyone trying to take her home.”
“I guess everyone has a theory,” Dallas admitted. “But at this moment, who would we be to say that either one of them is wrong?”
Joe turned to Keri. “Are any of your people in here?” he asked.
“My people?” she asked him, wariness in her eyes.
“Sorry. I meant, the paranormal group. We have yet to meet them.”
“And we all have yet to meet the New York City agents.” Dallas glanced at his phone. “They’re still in Philadelphia.” He looked up. “We’ll be wanting to talk with your group tomorrow when the agents arrive. I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult to repeat your stories over and over, but sometimes, it helps. You remember something you didn’t know you knew.”
“I’m not an expert on current investigation in any way,” Keri said, looking from Joe to Dallas, almost as if she expected one of them to tell her not to offer any suggestions.
“But do you have any ideas?” Joe asked her.
“I brought back a book from the inn about the church. Through the years, it seems, young people did there what they usually do in abandoned places. They went to drink, tell tales, boys liked to scare girls...and it was suspected that witchcraft took place there. I couldn’t help but wonder... I mean, just what went on there exactly isn’t in the book. But we know that Newby considered himself to be a witch and a Satanist. Or maybe he was a Satanist masquerading as a witch. People trying to coerce others will try anything to get them to obey or be part of something. I can’t help but think that just maybe there is a new group believing that they’re witches or Satanists...and that Julie was murdered in the graveyard for a reason.”
“Wow,” Carl murmured.
Keri looked at Joe and then Dallas again. “Do you know why Julie thought she could find Barbara Chrome in Pennsylvania?”
“I’m expecting to hear from our agents who have been in Philadelphia some time tonight,” Dallas said. “Julie’s partner has been in and out of consciousness, and the doctors allowed Dot and Jared to see him for just a few minutes tonight. They’ll give a full report when they get here.”
“Maybe the girl’s kidnappers planned on using her for something,” Keri said. “And Julie was in the wrong place at the wrong time and became the sacrifice instead. Maybe that poor girl is still in danger, being held somewhere. I know that you’re the investigators, but, well, that’s a theory. And a fear.”
“It’s a good theory,” Dallas assured her.
“Given the way Julie was killed, yes. It has something to do with ritual. Or it was a cover-up for the real reason she was killed,” Joe said. “Either way, I think you’re right. The history of the church and graveyard play into it. And adds to the idea that someone local or at least very familiar with the legends of the church and the tavern had to be involved.”
Keri was listening to him but looking toward the door. “There’s Brad,” she said. “And troop.”
A strange hush had fallen over the dining area. Joe looked to the entry to the café, following Keri’s line of vision. People apparently knew Brad Holden by sight—he was a star in his own right, thanks to the internet and a general pursuit of the paranormal and all things creepy and scary.
The hostess was happy to see him as well and gushed a bit. Not quite as much as she had gushed for Carl.
As Keri had noted, Brad had come in with his group of “experts.” Joe tried to identify everyone in the group from their pictures in his files. Serena Nelson, small and blonde, had her arm locked through Brad’s. Eileen Falcon, medium in height and build with brown hair pulled back in a bun, was with the man in her life, Pete Wright, who was just about six feet tall, with close-cropped, sandy hair. The group was rounded out by Mike Lerner, the oldest in the crowd and with the look of an artist, his head shaved clean, his build stockier, his stance—tired.
“I think I’ll introduce myself,” Joe said. “Excuse me.”
He set his napkin on the table and rose, waiting for the hostess to seat the new crowd. They were at a booth by the window, too, but down a few tables from the couple who had been solving the murder so loudly with their opinions.
Joe stopped at the table as the Truth Seekers were just opening their menus.
“Hello, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to introduce myself—Joe Dunhill, special consultant with the FBI. I’m here with Special Agent Dallas Wicker, and we’ll be joined by other members of the FBI soon. I’m sorry for the continued questioning, but this is a murder investigation being handled by a joint task force between the FBI and police. We spent the afternoon with Carl and Keri over at the Miller Inn and Tavern, and tomorrow, we’d appreciate some time with each of you.”
“Of course,” Brad said immediately, rising to shake Joe’s hand. “I’m Brad—I guess you know that. Mike there, Pete and Eileen and Serena.”
Everyone murmured a greeting.
“Anything, anything at all, we’re happy to do anything that we can,” Brad assured him.
Pete and Mike rose as well and shook hands with Joe.
Eileen smiled cheerfully. “Glad to have you working this. Hopefully, you’re all a bit...friendlier than the cops. Detective Billings could convince a pope he was a horrible sinner.”
Serena stared at Joe, frowning. “I don’t think we need to be all warm and cozy. I just heard the word appreciate, but I think that meant we’ll talk to the FBI tomorrow whether we like it or not. The same questions we went through for hours at the police station. And there just isn’t that much for us to say. Eileen and Keri just...found her down there. I never even saw... Keri was screaming, telling us to get out, and we ran, and then there were sirens... We got the hell out. I’m just not sure what more we can say.”
“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “I know this is an inconvenience for you, but a woman is dead. She was brutally murdered. Yes, it’s a lot of questioning. But now, you’ve had some time. We won’t talk until tomorrow, and by then, you may remember little things. Noises, smells, you just never know.”
“Serena is just tired,” Eileen said, setting an arm around her friend and coworker.
“And scared,” Serena said. “What if whoever did that to her is...is still around?”
“All the more reason to help us find whoever did this as quickly as possible,” Joe said quietly.
“I just don’t think we can help,” Serena said. “I’m sorry. I must sound terrible. And ridiculous. We prowl around old abandoned places and graveyards and we look for the dead. But the dead are long gone, and whoever did this—”
“It’s okay, Serena,” Brad said. “I won’t leave you. There are two patrol cars outside the hotel, and they’ll be staying there.” He looked at Joe. “And this guy seems pretty competent. You’re a consultant?”
“Savannah police almost a decade, military before, and now into the academy,” Joe said. “I’m with an experienced FBI agent, and two more FBI agents will be back here by late tonight. Detective Billings has ordered protection for the hotel. We are watching,” he told Serena.
“Watching? Or keeping us here?” Serena asked.
“I like to think my first line of duty is always to protect and serve, under any title,” Joe told her.
“We’ll do anything to help,” Pete said. He looked at Serena. “All of us. We’ll be happy to go over it all again.”
“Thank you,” Joe told him. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you have your meal now, and we’ll call you in the morning and arrange a time to talk. We’ll get it together so that we don’t make it too painful, going over it all again.”
“We’re all suspects, you know,” Serena mumbled.
“Obviously. We were investigating at the inn,” Pete told her. “Another reason we need to help.”
Brad ignored them both and spoke anxiously to Joe. “You said that you were back at the Miller Inn and Tavern with Carl and Keri. Does that mean we can get back in?”
“The forensic teams have finished. Carl has access. He needs to have a specialized cleaning crew come out, and then... Are you hoping to finish what you started?” Joe asked curiously.
“We were looking for the past, but maybe what we discover could be of help. Lots of people are skeptical, but you know—and Carl certainly knows!—that the dead can be contacted and that they can help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Joe promised. He was sure that although Brad did believe in ghosts, he really had no idea how right he was about the dead helping the living. Brad didn’t have the proof that Joe had.
He felt Dallas come up beside him, and the introductions went around again.
“FBI,” Serena muttered. “Cops and FBI.”
“Serena is scared,” Eileen explained, her tone defensive.
“I’m sorry,” Serena said suddenly. “Of course, we’ll go through it all again. And again, if you all ask. I just...” She let her voice trail and then sighed, hugging Eileen. Tears glazed her eyes. “Eileen is the one who found the body, and I’m falling apart...and Keri, she’s been so great, so strong. Screaming her head off and getting us out and the police there, immediately, barely batting an eye. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you all anything that I can.” She looked at Dallas and Joe, brown eyes hopeful.
“We appreciate it,” Dallas told her.
Joe turned to see that Carl and Keri had grown weary of sitting alone at the table. They joined them by the Truth Seekers.
“Keri,” Eileen said, standing and hugging her. “You’re doing okay? We didn’t see you today.”
“I’m all right,” Keri told her.
“I’ll never forget what we saw,” Eileen whispered.
Keri nodded.
“We’re being questioned again tomorrow. Unless you were already questioned. There will be more agents, too,” Eileen said.
“I know,” Keri said.
“Carl, you’re back at the inn?” Brad asked.
“Almost,” Carl told him, glancing at Dallas. He smiled grimly. “Let’s just get through tomorrow, huh?”
Keri seemed to realize that Carl was uncomfortable and not sure what to say or do at this point. She let out a sigh and said, “I have to call it quits for tonight and try to get some sleep. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“I’ll head up with Keri and see everyone in the morning, too,” Carl said.
“That’s it for me, too. Very, very long day,” Dallas said. “Enjoy your dinners.”
“Good night,” Joe said, and started after Dallas. He paused, seeing their waitress. “I’ll just see to the check,” he said. But when he spoke to the waitress, he found that Carl had already paid. Of course.
He was aware of the paranormal investigators at their table, watching him and Dallas and speaking softly among themselves. Was one of them a cold-blooded killer? Or worse...were they all cold-blooded killers? And what was the Philadelphia connection? Just how had Julie Castro come out to York County when she had last been seen in the heart of the Big City?
As he and Dallas headed to the elevators, he said, “Have we learned anything more about the kidnapping victim Julie Castro was trying to find?”
“We’ll find out more from the agents tomorrow,” Dallas said.
They reached their floor and headed out of the elevator. “See you around seven downstairs in the restaurant, I guess. Seems to be the place,” Dallas said.
Joe nodded. “I’ll be packed up and ready to stay at the inn.”
They parted ways. A door opened in the hallway as Joe headed to his room. Instinctively, he swung around.
Keri Wolf was setting a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He noted that she was already in what must have been her bed clothing, a long soft T-shirt in a misty gray that fell gently over her body. It was bizarrely provocative, just like the featherlike layers of hair that framed her face and fell around her shoulders.
She was surprised to see him, or probably anyone, in the hall, and she flushed and smiled awkwardly.
“Hey. You and Dallas are on this floor?”
He nodded. “Are you all right? You’re alone?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you. And yes,” she added irritably. “Yes, I’m alone. I’m also a little unnerved. Terribly sorry for that poor dead woman, but... Anyway, I’m glad to know the law is near.”
He pointed to his own door just across the hall from hers.
“A loud scream—even a semi-loud scream—and I’m here,” he promised.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
He headed into his own room. He didn’t bother with a Do Not Disturb sign; he’d be awake and ready to start the day long before a housekeeper arrived.
He locked the door and sat on the foot of the bed, his mind racing with what they did and didn’t know. In his mind, it had to be connected.
A kidnapping in New York City, leading to a murder in York County.
She headed down to hopefully find a quiet table in a corner all alone.
* * *
There wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity of the Miller Inn and Tavern except for the new hotel, where Joe and Dallas would be staying one more night. But just up or down the highway, Pennsylvania offered all kinds of incredible delights: all manner of patriotic tourism, beautiful Amish country or the fun of Hersheypark.
Joe guessed they could find something for dinner at a chain restaurant down the highway, or maybe a bar. But it had been a hell of a long day that included updating Billings about the blood at the old church and getting a forensic team out again, so Joe and Dallas opted for the restaurant at their own hotel. The food was quite good after all.
They happened to head down to dinner at the same time as Carl and Keri.
It seemed that Carl and Keri were a couple, although to Joe’s understanding, they had just met when they were scheduled to do the paranormal investigation at Miller Inn and Tavern. He knew through their files that Carl was just twenty-three and Keri was twenty-nine, an age difference that probably didn’t mean much of anything, except that Keri seemed far more mature. Carl certainly behaved very much like an adult—and not a spoiled one, at that—but still, he was a heartthrob.
Of course, Keri was extremely attractive herself. She had a way about her, casual, down to earth and somehow incredibly sensual, as well. Just as she appeared in her picture in the police file. Maybe it was just the fall of her hair. Or the way she moved or walked, or the light scent of her perfume.
Maybe he was becoming a bit too enchanted...
No matter his thoughts on her—and the odd kinship he felt—she was lying. Perhaps she couldn’t quite admit the truth.
Joe and Dallas ran into Carl and Keri in line to be seated; the restaurant was rather busy.
“Hey, cool, we’ll probably get seated more quickly as a foursome,” Carl said, seeing them. “Unless, of course, you need to talk business or, I’m sorry, if you just don’t want to eat with us. Of course, we will not be offended.”
Neither Joe nor Dallas had a chance to answer. The young hostess hurried up to Carl, stars in her eyes, and said, “Please, sir, bring your party and we’ll seat you immediately, away from people.”
“Sounds good to me,” Dallas said to Joe. Joe shrugged and looked at Keri. Her face was impassive.
They followed along. The hostess was busy telling Carl how much she had loved his last movie and how shocked and horrified everyone had been to hear that a murder victim had been found at the Miller Inn and Tavern. Carl was very polite to her in turn; she thanked him, telling him how wonderful that he had come to her little area of the world.
She turned to look at Joe and Dallas, smiling and stepping back as if she appreciated height in a man. Then she glanced at Keri and let out a sigh, as if envying a woman at a table with three men.
Keri smiled, apparently amused, and thanked the hostess for seating them. Joe liked that about her; she had her own brand of confidence and was simply comfortable with herself. Of course, she should be, since male heads seemed to turn when she walked into a room.
The hostess had found them a table in a little alcove with windows that looked out to the road and a carved wooden divider between them and a row of booths. All three men waited for Keri to slide in first. To Joe’s surprise, Carl was the first to take the opposite side and Dallas took the seat next to him.
Joe found himself next to Keri, startled again by the strange instinctive pleasure being so close to her awoke in him. He reminded himself that she was with Carl, whether it was a casual or deep relationship.
“We didn’t actually mean to horn in on you,” Joe said apologetically.
“But it’s been a long day, and so we’re just grateful,” Dallas said.
“I didn’t mean to hang on to Carl’s star, either, but I’m grateful to do so as well,” Keri said, picking up her menu. “Long day, I agree.”
Their waitress came to the table, harried that night but sweet and quick to point out a few specials. She recommended the Feel-Good Meatloaf, and everyone ordered it, clearly too tired to think harder.
Their food arrived quickly, and they all tucked in immediately, quiet for a while as they ate in semi-comfortable silence.
“Did you get any sleep last night, given the night before?” Joe asked.
“Some.” Then she paused. Listening.
“Ditto,” Carl said softly and paused, too.
They could all hear a woman speaking—loudly—at a table just beyond the divider.
“It’s those people—the ghost hunters. That dead woman. She was a sacrifice, I bet,” the woman said with assurance.
“You’re wrong, and I will be proved right,” the man with her said. “It’s all because she’s an FBI agent. She went after a girl, and the girl is probably a...a runaway, conspiring with drug runners, in love with a kingpin, and ready to kill anyone trying to take her home.”
“I guess everyone has a theory,” Dallas admitted. “But at this moment, who would we be to say that either one of them is wrong?”
Joe turned to Keri. “Are any of your people in here?” he asked.
“My people?” she asked him, wariness in her eyes.
“Sorry. I meant, the paranormal group. We have yet to meet them.”
“And we all have yet to meet the New York City agents.” Dallas glanced at his phone. “They’re still in Philadelphia.” He looked up. “We’ll be wanting to talk with your group tomorrow when the agents arrive. I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult to repeat your stories over and over, but sometimes, it helps. You remember something you didn’t know you knew.”
“I’m not an expert on current investigation in any way,” Keri said, looking from Joe to Dallas, almost as if she expected one of them to tell her not to offer any suggestions.
“But do you have any ideas?” Joe asked her.
“I brought back a book from the inn about the church. Through the years, it seems, young people did there what they usually do in abandoned places. They went to drink, tell tales, boys liked to scare girls...and it was suspected that witchcraft took place there. I couldn’t help but wonder... I mean, just what went on there exactly isn’t in the book. But we know that Newby considered himself to be a witch and a Satanist. Or maybe he was a Satanist masquerading as a witch. People trying to coerce others will try anything to get them to obey or be part of something. I can’t help but think that just maybe there is a new group believing that they’re witches or Satanists...and that Julie was murdered in the graveyard for a reason.”
“Wow,” Carl murmured.
Keri looked at Joe and then Dallas again. “Do you know why Julie thought she could find Barbara Chrome in Pennsylvania?”
“I’m expecting to hear from our agents who have been in Philadelphia some time tonight,” Dallas said. “Julie’s partner has been in and out of consciousness, and the doctors allowed Dot and Jared to see him for just a few minutes tonight. They’ll give a full report when they get here.”
“Maybe the girl’s kidnappers planned on using her for something,” Keri said. “And Julie was in the wrong place at the wrong time and became the sacrifice instead. Maybe that poor girl is still in danger, being held somewhere. I know that you’re the investigators, but, well, that’s a theory. And a fear.”
“It’s a good theory,” Dallas assured her.
“Given the way Julie was killed, yes. It has something to do with ritual. Or it was a cover-up for the real reason she was killed,” Joe said. “Either way, I think you’re right. The history of the church and graveyard play into it. And adds to the idea that someone local or at least very familiar with the legends of the church and the tavern had to be involved.”
Keri was listening to him but looking toward the door. “There’s Brad,” she said. “And troop.”
A strange hush had fallen over the dining area. Joe looked to the entry to the café, following Keri’s line of vision. People apparently knew Brad Holden by sight—he was a star in his own right, thanks to the internet and a general pursuit of the paranormal and all things creepy and scary.
The hostess was happy to see him as well and gushed a bit. Not quite as much as she had gushed for Carl.
As Keri had noted, Brad had come in with his group of “experts.” Joe tried to identify everyone in the group from their pictures in his files. Serena Nelson, small and blonde, had her arm locked through Brad’s. Eileen Falcon, medium in height and build with brown hair pulled back in a bun, was with the man in her life, Pete Wright, who was just about six feet tall, with close-cropped, sandy hair. The group was rounded out by Mike Lerner, the oldest in the crowd and with the look of an artist, his head shaved clean, his build stockier, his stance—tired.
“I think I’ll introduce myself,” Joe said. “Excuse me.”
He set his napkin on the table and rose, waiting for the hostess to seat the new crowd. They were at a booth by the window, too, but down a few tables from the couple who had been solving the murder so loudly with their opinions.
Joe stopped at the table as the Truth Seekers were just opening their menus.
“Hello, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to introduce myself—Joe Dunhill, special consultant with the FBI. I’m here with Special Agent Dallas Wicker, and we’ll be joined by other members of the FBI soon. I’m sorry for the continued questioning, but this is a murder investigation being handled by a joint task force between the FBI and police. We spent the afternoon with Carl and Keri over at the Miller Inn and Tavern, and tomorrow, we’d appreciate some time with each of you.”
“Of course,” Brad said immediately, rising to shake Joe’s hand. “I’m Brad—I guess you know that. Mike there, Pete and Eileen and Serena.”
Everyone murmured a greeting.
“Anything, anything at all, we’re happy to do anything that we can,” Brad assured him.
Pete and Mike rose as well and shook hands with Joe.
Eileen smiled cheerfully. “Glad to have you working this. Hopefully, you’re all a bit...friendlier than the cops. Detective Billings could convince a pope he was a horrible sinner.”
Serena stared at Joe, frowning. “I don’t think we need to be all warm and cozy. I just heard the word appreciate, but I think that meant we’ll talk to the FBI tomorrow whether we like it or not. The same questions we went through for hours at the police station. And there just isn’t that much for us to say. Eileen and Keri just...found her down there. I never even saw... Keri was screaming, telling us to get out, and we ran, and then there were sirens... We got the hell out. I’m just not sure what more we can say.”
“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “I know this is an inconvenience for you, but a woman is dead. She was brutally murdered. Yes, it’s a lot of questioning. But now, you’ve had some time. We won’t talk until tomorrow, and by then, you may remember little things. Noises, smells, you just never know.”
“Serena is just tired,” Eileen said, setting an arm around her friend and coworker.
“And scared,” Serena said. “What if whoever did that to her is...is still around?”
“All the more reason to help us find whoever did this as quickly as possible,” Joe said quietly.
“I just don’t think we can help,” Serena said. “I’m sorry. I must sound terrible. And ridiculous. We prowl around old abandoned places and graveyards and we look for the dead. But the dead are long gone, and whoever did this—”
“It’s okay, Serena,” Brad said. “I won’t leave you. There are two patrol cars outside the hotel, and they’ll be staying there.” He looked at Joe. “And this guy seems pretty competent. You’re a consultant?”
“Savannah police almost a decade, military before, and now into the academy,” Joe said. “I’m with an experienced FBI agent, and two more FBI agents will be back here by late tonight. Detective Billings has ordered protection for the hotel. We are watching,” he told Serena.
“Watching? Or keeping us here?” Serena asked.
“I like to think my first line of duty is always to protect and serve, under any title,” Joe told her.
“We’ll do anything to help,” Pete said. He looked at Serena. “All of us. We’ll be happy to go over it all again.”
“Thank you,” Joe told him. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you have your meal now, and we’ll call you in the morning and arrange a time to talk. We’ll get it together so that we don’t make it too painful, going over it all again.”
“We’re all suspects, you know,” Serena mumbled.
“Obviously. We were investigating at the inn,” Pete told her. “Another reason we need to help.”
Brad ignored them both and spoke anxiously to Joe. “You said that you were back at the Miller Inn and Tavern with Carl and Keri. Does that mean we can get back in?”
“The forensic teams have finished. Carl has access. He needs to have a specialized cleaning crew come out, and then... Are you hoping to finish what you started?” Joe asked curiously.
“We were looking for the past, but maybe what we discover could be of help. Lots of people are skeptical, but you know—and Carl certainly knows!—that the dead can be contacted and that they can help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Joe promised. He was sure that although Brad did believe in ghosts, he really had no idea how right he was about the dead helping the living. Brad didn’t have the proof that Joe had.
He felt Dallas come up beside him, and the introductions went around again.
“FBI,” Serena muttered. “Cops and FBI.”
“Serena is scared,” Eileen explained, her tone defensive.
“I’m sorry,” Serena said suddenly. “Of course, we’ll go through it all again. And again, if you all ask. I just...” She let her voice trail and then sighed, hugging Eileen. Tears glazed her eyes. “Eileen is the one who found the body, and I’m falling apart...and Keri, she’s been so great, so strong. Screaming her head off and getting us out and the police there, immediately, barely batting an eye. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you all anything that I can.” She looked at Dallas and Joe, brown eyes hopeful.
“We appreciate it,” Dallas told her.
Joe turned to see that Carl and Keri had grown weary of sitting alone at the table. They joined them by the Truth Seekers.
“Keri,” Eileen said, standing and hugging her. “You’re doing okay? We didn’t see you today.”
“I’m all right,” Keri told her.
“I’ll never forget what we saw,” Eileen whispered.
Keri nodded.
“We’re being questioned again tomorrow. Unless you were already questioned. There will be more agents, too,” Eileen said.
“I know,” Keri said.
“Carl, you’re back at the inn?” Brad asked.
“Almost,” Carl told him, glancing at Dallas. He smiled grimly. “Let’s just get through tomorrow, huh?”
Keri seemed to realize that Carl was uncomfortable and not sure what to say or do at this point. She let out a sigh and said, “I have to call it quits for tonight and try to get some sleep. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“I’ll head up with Keri and see everyone in the morning, too,” Carl said.
“That’s it for me, too. Very, very long day,” Dallas said. “Enjoy your dinners.”
“Good night,” Joe said, and started after Dallas. He paused, seeing their waitress. “I’ll just see to the check,” he said. But when he spoke to the waitress, he found that Carl had already paid. Of course.
He was aware of the paranormal investigators at their table, watching him and Dallas and speaking softly among themselves. Was one of them a cold-blooded killer? Or worse...were they all cold-blooded killers? And what was the Philadelphia connection? Just how had Julie Castro come out to York County when she had last been seen in the heart of the Big City?
As he and Dallas headed to the elevators, he said, “Have we learned anything more about the kidnapping victim Julie Castro was trying to find?”
“We’ll find out more from the agents tomorrow,” Dallas said.
They reached their floor and headed out of the elevator. “See you around seven downstairs in the restaurant, I guess. Seems to be the place,” Dallas said.
Joe nodded. “I’ll be packed up and ready to stay at the inn.”
They parted ways. A door opened in the hallway as Joe headed to his room. Instinctively, he swung around.
Keri Wolf was setting a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He noted that she was already in what must have been her bed clothing, a long soft T-shirt in a misty gray that fell gently over her body. It was bizarrely provocative, just like the featherlike layers of hair that framed her face and fell around her shoulders.
She was surprised to see him, or probably anyone, in the hall, and she flushed and smiled awkwardly.
“Hey. You and Dallas are on this floor?”
He nodded. “Are you all right? You’re alone?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you. And yes,” she added irritably. “Yes, I’m alone. I’m also a little unnerved. Terribly sorry for that poor dead woman, but... Anyway, I’m glad to know the law is near.”
He pointed to his own door just across the hall from hers.
“A loud scream—even a semi-loud scream—and I’m here,” he promised.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
He headed into his own room. He didn’t bother with a Do Not Disturb sign; he’d be awake and ready to start the day long before a housekeeper arrived.
He locked the door and sat on the foot of the bed, his mind racing with what they did and didn’t know. In his mind, it had to be connected.
A kidnapping in New York City, leading to a murder in York County.
