“Sounds wonderful,” Jeremy said, opting not to mention that he’d had jambalaya for lunch and hoping that Rowenna would also keep that quiet. “I’ll go find Aidan and tell him it’s time to eat.”
He headed for the barn, wondering what the two women would be talking about and marveling again at the changes Aidan and Kendall had wrought in little more than a year. The old stables were sparkling clean, with a stage in the back and fold-up chairs stacked to one side, and, like the house itself, it was sparkling with new paint. The office was in the old tack room, and it, too, was entirely refitted with a mahogany desk, chairs, a small sofa and a phone, computer, printer and fax.
“Hey,” Aidan said, looking up at his arrival. “I did like you asked and pulled everything I can find on what else happened in Salem that day.”
“And?”
Aidan shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. A few lewd and lascivious charges, a couple of drunks dragged in and one woman who refused to leave a store at closing time. Nothing major. So when are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow. Brad’s pretty much a basket case.”
His brother was silent, staring at his computer screen.
“What?” Jeremy said, frowning.
“I suggest that you stay open to any possibility. And by any possibility I mean, no matter how strange, if it seems like a clue, follow it up.”
“Hey, you know me. I’m good at what I do.”
“I know you are. But you always want the visual, the bird in the hand, the rock-solid evidence. I’m just advising you to be willing to accept things that look…less than rock-solid. Follow every path, whether it seems absurd or not.”
Aidan had definitely changed, Jeremy thought. Hell, he’d married a one-time tarot reader, though Kendall had always told him that she’d only been a performer. But Kendall did believe that the plantation was haunted by benevolent ghosts. She had said as much many times after her experience last year with a real-life murderer in the hidden chamber under the family tomb. But Aidan…
Aidan had raised him after their parents’ deaths. He’d put his own life on hold to keep all three of them, Aidan, Jeremy and their youngest brother, Zach, together. Jeremy had all the respect in the world for his elder brother. He loved him and would fight any battle in his defense.
But Aidan had been down in that crypt with Kendall, and it had put him a little bit over the edge, at least when it came to the whole ghost thing.
He didn’t want to argue with his brother, though.
Something in Aidan had changed when he lost his first wife, and then, just when he had dared to fall in love again, he had nearly lost Kendall.
Every man had his own demons, and his own way of dealing with them. If Aidan wanted to think there was something more out there, a gentle hand guiding events from the grave, that was his own business.
“Sure, Aidan. I promise. I’ll keep an open mind,” he said.
Kendall looked over her shoulder, even though they were alone in the kitchen. “Jeremy told you about it, right? About his friends up in Salem?” When Rowenna nodded, Kendall shivered and went on. “I’m so afraid she’s dead. Mary Johnstone, I mean. I know Jeremy’s worried about the same thing. He called Aidan about it earlier and asked him to look some stuff up on the computer. Jeremy is convinced Brad is telling the truth and that he had nothing to do with her disappearance. And why wouldn’t he? The man is his friend. He was his partner for years. They were responsible for each other’s lives. The thing is…” Once again Kendall hesitated, looking over her shoulder, as if afraid her husband or Jeremy had slipped in without her seeing them. “Rowenna, I know we haven’t talked a lot about how I feel about this, but ghosts do exist. I know it. And they can help us. All we have to do is let them.”
Rowenna just looked at her, waiting for her to go on.
Kendall nodded. “Rowenna, you write books about the fact that there are things out there that can’t be explained by logic and science.”
“I know, but…Kendall, I never suggested that a ghost could just come in, sit down, drink tea and discuss the weather.”
Frustrated, Kendall said, “I’m not saying that, either, and you know it. But I know you’ve helped the police figure things out in the past, and I hope you’ll help them now. I hope you’ll help Jeremy.”
Jeremy doesn’t want my help. He doesn’t want yours, either. He wants the cold hard facts, ma’am, and that’s it, Rowenna thought.
“I can try,” she offered.
“Sometimes ghosts come in dreams,” Kendall said.
Dreams. Rows of cornstalks. Scarecrows looming above them. Crows cawing high in the air, then alighting to pick at rotting flesh clinging to skeletal remains.
“Have you had any strange dreams lately?” Kendall asked her.
A chill settled over Rowenna, and she jumped to her feet. “I think something is boiling over on the stove,” she said, knowing even as she spoke that the excuse was transparent.