“Maybe not,” Jeremy said. “Maybe you could supervise the decorations and activities for the Halloween bash.”
“I’d love to do it,” she said. “And I can do great things with no budget, so you can put all the money you make into Children’s House.”
“Great. That’s settled, then,” Jeremy said.
“I can tell you one good way to get people excited,” she said. “Hire some of the mule carriages from the city. I have friends who will do it for practically nothing, given the publicity they’ll get. People can park in that open area to the left of the house, then take a carriage ride back to the stables. I know some good catering places that will be happy to handle the food for cost. And I’m assuming you’ll let someone do tours of the main house. People would pay extra for that, you know.”
They were all staring at her blankly.
“Wow. Good thing she’s on the team,” Zach said.
She smiled. “I’m just happy to help. Amelia would have loved it.”
It should be fun, she thought. Would be fun. Except…
Except that the house was haunted. She was sure of it.
She didn’t understand why she still felt so spooked. They had found out the truth about the Civil War Flynns, and soon the record would be corrected and everyone would know that the cousins hadn’t killed each other out of malice or because of some romantic rivalry. Surely that would please the ghosts, right? But Henry was afraid of something in the present, not the past. He’d pointed to the family tomb and looked at her as if she should understand what he was getting at.
A chill swept up her spine, even as she sat there smiling at the others.
Okay, so Henry was out to help her.
Then what the hell did the dreams mean?
And why had her feet been dirty?
She refused to think about it and ruin the day.
That night, as soon as she fell asleep, Kendall found herself in the cemetery again. Henry was standing by the family tomb again, and though he was speaking this time, she couldn’t understand him. Suddenly a look of horror crossed his worn features, and he pointed behind her.
She could feel cold breath on her neck. Someone coming after her.
She struggled to wake up, and this time, she managed it, and without screaming out or awakening Aidan. He was asleep at her side, the rise and fall of his chest even and rhythmic. She curled closer to him and hoped that she would fall asleep again, this time without being plagued by dreams.
She lay awake for a while, wondering what to do. Should she tell Aidan that Henry’s ghost was trying to keep watch at the Hideaway, and that he also seemed to be warning her about a killer in the cemetery? Aidan was already digging up the cemetery, anyway. What would he do if she flat-out told him that ghosts were speaking to her?
Ruby Beaudreaux was at reception when Aidan stopped by the medical examiner’s office to pick up the bones and other potential evidence. Abel had been pleasant about the idea of him coming by to pick everything up, but he was suspicious that trouble might still be in the offing.
“I’ll go tell Dr. Abel that you’re here,” she told him.
As he waited in the outer room, he was startled when Rebecca came out.
“Rebecca, hi, how are you?”
“In a mess this morning, I’m afraid.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Besides a hit-and-run on Rampart and a dead woman in a house waiting to be demolished?” she asked wearily. “Abel is on the warpath. Someone snuck in here last night and went through our bones.”
“Your bones?”
“We have drawers of them, actually. We use them for comparisons, showing juries at trial…all kinds of things. Anyway, things back there are a mess, bones everywhere, nothing labeled. I have to get back in there before I wind up in trouble—I’m on skull collection. Call me later if you think I can help you.”
“Thank you, Rebecca,” he told her.
Had someone broken in just to steal the bones he had discovered? Or had the break-in occurred for some other reason entirely? His money was on the former.
Jon Abel, his hair once again in a state of disarray from his fingers continually running through it, made his appearance just seconds after Rebecca left. “I’m sorry, Flynn, but it’s going to take me some time to find your bones or even figure out if I still have them.”
“Was there evidence tampering of any other kind?” Aidan asked.
“Oh, yeah. Mrs. Eames was switched with Mr. Nelson down in the morgue, some of the desks were rifled, and bullets taken from six victims found in the last twelve months have disappeared.” Abel stared at him, shaking his head. “Flynn, trust me, this has nothing to do with your case. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back in and go back to assessing the damage.”
“Hang on. Even if the bones are gone, what about the blood scraping and the dress? I’d still like to get them up to Washington.”
Abel stiffened irritably. “All right. Wait.”