“Rude!” Dustin snapped. “What the hell? I’m trying to keep her from getting killed, and you don’t seem to be helping a whole lot!”
Olivia turned again to look at Dustin, who was staring at Marcus.
“You see him,” she breathed.
“Of course I see him. And hear him. And, Mr. Danby, under the circumstances, it’s about time you stuck around to meet me,” Dustin said. “I need to know everything about you and everything you did on the day you were killed. Your memory might be the only thing that can keep Olivia alive.”
Marcus, startled—and offended—made his ghostly way across the room to stand in front of Dustin. “You—you’re FBI. You have to find the truth of this. I’m not the one putting Olivia in danger.”
“You put her in danger the minute you dragged her into this!” Dustin snapped.
“Hey, someone killed me! It’s not just Olivia’s life that’s at stake. The Horse Farm itself is.”
“So, you’d get her killed, as well?”
“She could hear me. I had to tell someone the truth.”
“Excuse me,” she began.
But neither seemed to hear her.
“You need to be worried about her safety before anything else,” Dustin was saying.
“And you have to find my killer,” Marcus countered. “That’ll keep her out of danger.”
“But you obviously have the information we need.”
“No. You’re the one with all the advantages. You’re the one—”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the one who’s...alive.”
7
Marcus’s final statement apparently won the argument. Within minutes, he and Olivia were seated on the sofa, while Dustin was in a wing-back chair across the coffee table from them.
Olivia and Dustin had coffee—black. Marcus had told them the coffee was fine, but since he’d been dead for a while now, the milk probably wasn’t so good. Olivia should throw it out.
Marcus went over the day of his death with Dustin; Dustin asked for details but Marcus really couldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Dustin pressed him, anyway.
“Okay, you heard the dog from the woods and you went to find him. That’s the last you remember?” Dustin asked.
“Yes, I just said that,” Marcus replied in an exasperated tone.
“Which woods? Where were you exactly?”
“I don’t know exactly.... There’s a riding trail—the only real trail. You’ll see little paths here and there, but if you were on horseback, you’d have to take the trail. That’s where I was.”
“And it was daylight, correct?”
“Yes. Although it was a little overcast. The canopy of the pines and the other trees can create this green darkness that’s almost surreal. When we have fog, it’s like being in a fantasyland,” Marcus said.
Dustin ignored his lyrical description. “How far had you gone in?” he asked briskly.
“A hundred yards or so? I’d reached the copse.”
“And then?”
“Then I don’t remember.”
“Did you feel a pain in your head? A prick in your arm? Anything that would explain how you lost consciousness?”
“No... Yes! Maybe. I thought I’d been stung by a bee...or gotten a spider bite. Something like that. Something you don’t even pay attention to,” Marcus said.
“The medical examiner has released the information that there were drugs in your system. We have to figure out how they got there,” Dustin said.
“Well, there’s nothing in this house, I can assure you of that,” Marcus responded indignantly.
Dustin looked at Olivia. “And tomorrow, at work, you should say that you searched all over the house and you didn’t find anything—but that you’re resigned to the fact that Marcus must have suffered a relapse and hidden his stash in the forest somewhere,” he said.
“What?” Marcus demanded indignantly.
“Someone tried to get into Olivia’s home last night, Marcus,” Dustin told him.
“Oh. Oh, no!” Marcus said, giving Olivia an anguished look.
“I thought you were coming back,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, I meant to, but...”
“But what?”
“I made some discoveries.”
“Like what?” Dustin asked.
“I never knew Aaron and Sandra were sleeping together,” Marcus said.
“You were spying on them?” Olivia shook her head in disgust.
“Not the way you think. I...went to the Horse Farm and Aaron was still there. I went—” He paused. There was an air of sadness about him that seemed palpable. “I went out to see the horses. Big Orange Cat was hanging around in Zeus’s stall, and I swear that animal could feel me there, feel me pet him. That’s a great cat, Agent—if you’re thinking of adopting.”
“He’s a great mouser, too, Marcus. Good in the stables,” Olivia pointed out.
“But he’s special. Ah, hell, they’re all special.” Marcus sighed.
“Marcus,” Dustin said, steering him back. “When you were at the stables last night, did you see Sydney or Drew?”
“No, but they were in their apartments,” Marcus answered.