“Aren’t you coming back out to the plantation with me? Tomorrow is Sunday, and Mason said you decided to close tomorrow so you could both take a break after the gala. I admit, workmen will be clomping around the house, but…” His brows knit into a frown as his words trailed away. “I didn’t scare you off, did I? I mean, I suppose it’s rather bizarre when your first night in a man’s house ends with him sleepwalking.”
“No. And yes, but we have to go to my place first. I need some things—and the poor cat. She looked at me today as if I were a traitor.”
“She can come, too.”
“Too many workmen. She’ll have to learn that cats are supposed to be independent.”
Soon after, while Aidan was talking to Jon Abel—a conversation that looked pleasant, at least from a distance—Kendall found herself standing with Hal Vincent and a few of the other police officers she’d known forever. Hal rolled his eyes when the upcoming event at the Flynn plantation came up. “They’re going to have to hire some outside security. That place is dark as hell, and you’re sure to have a few idiots who think it would be fun to go play in the graveyard or get lost in the woods down by the river.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. This went well, but I think they’re pushing it, having something out at that old place.”
“But the plantation is a piece of history, and it’s for a good cause,” Kendall objected.
“People are people. There are idiots in every crowd. Haven’t you ever seen any of those teen slasher movies? The kids keep going back out to the woods to fool around, even knowing there’s a killer on the loose. And when you watch those movies, you think nobody is that stupid. Sad thing is, people actually are,” Hal said. “And that place? It’s haunted,” he assured her in a dead-serious tone.
“This from a jaded homicide detective?”
“I may mess with the living, but I don’t go up against ghosts,” Hal told her. “Hey, my mama taught me there are some things best left alone, and that includes ghosts.”
“I’m sure they’ll arrange for good security.”
“They’ll be paying for it, too,” Hal said grimly.
As they were speaking, Jonas and his wife approached them.
“Miss Montgomery,” Jonas said, and introduced himself, “you may not remember me, but we’ve crossed paths a few times. I’d like you to meet my wife, Matty.”
Matty looked as if she’d probably paid for her plastic surgeon’s newest Mercedes, but her smile, as she took Kendall’s hand, was warm and genuine. “I’ve read about you,” she said.
“You’ve read about me?”
“In the ‘Neighbors’ section of the paper,” Matty explained. “After Amelia died. There was a real nice article in there about the way she’d helped you when you’d been orphaned and then opening your shop, and how you returned that favor, caring for her. It was a nice write-up. Anyway, when I read it, I felt kind of like I knew you. I lost my folks when I was young, too.”
“I’m sorry. It’s nice to meet you. And I’ll have to look up that article. I never saw it.”
“Are you really a psychic?” Matty asked.
Kendall hesitated. “I really know how to read a tarot deck,” she said.
“Great. I’ve been wanting to check out your shop. I’ll come by next week.” She smiled.
Eventually the party wound down, and Kendall left with Vinnie, Mason and the three Flynn brothers. It was late, but Café du Monde stayed open to all hours, so they headed in that direction for coffee and beignets. When Kendall and Aidan got up to leave, she asked Mason about his blonde. “Did you get her name and number?”
He grinned. “You bet. I’ll be seeing her again.”
It had been a long day. Kendall was still keyed up when they finally returned to the plantation after a stop at her place to pick up clothes and spend a few minutes with Jezebel. Once again the windows were shining from within, and she could see that a light had been rigged back by the old slave quarters, too. But it was just a house, she told herself. Just a house.
It was welcoming, beautiful. And besides, Aidan was wearing his gun. She knew because she had felt the bulge beneath his jacket.
Inside the front door, Aidan paused and kissed her. “You need anything?” he asked her.
She smiled. Just you was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t say it.
“Have you got any water in the fridge?” she asked.
“Should have,” he said. They walked through the dining room to reach the kitchen, and she was surprised when Aidan slowed to look at the family portraits as they passed. He stopped by the portrait of Fiona MacFarlane Flynn.
“You know, she’s got a beautiful tomb in the graveyard, but she was buried as Fiona MacFarlane.”
“Her marriage was a secret, because of the war. Her husband, who owned this place, was fighting for the South, but with the Union closing in, he probably thought she’d be in more danger here if they arrived and thought she was married to a Confederate soldier,” Kendall told him. “I guess that was the reason, anyway.”
“I think we should have her name corrected, don’t you?” Aidan asked.
Kendall was surprised. He had never seemed like the sentimental type, especially not over something that had occurred over a century and a half ago.