*
The ghost soldiers of Gettysburg moved swiftly through the trees—literally through them at times—and Matt struggled to keep up. He couldn’t even see Killer; the dog was all but buried in the tall grass, bracken and brush that covered the forest floor. His heart was beating furiously. He still didn’t know exactly who else was involved, but he did know that Kendra Walker was in on it—whether her husband was aware of it or not. Matt couldn’t tell yet just how much Walker grasped about what had been going on. Matt knew for a fact that it was Joe Brighton who’d done the killing. Ellery Manheim had been cleared of the murders—although he might prove to have been involved, too. The actual killing, however, had been done by one hand, and one hand alone. And Nathan Oliver, the giant who looked like a killer, had been with him and Congressman Walker when Meg was taken. As always, appearances could be deceptive...
Had Ian Walker planned the events tonight—to allow his wife and his henchmen time to slip Meg out of the house—and to ensure that when she found Lara, she could be with her friend for eternity?
He didn’t know yet—he just knew who was involved because he’d found Kendra Walker’s pendant on the ground at the mill. The silver pendant of the Washington Monument she’d toyed with when they’d met... At the moment, he didn’t know and didn’t care if she’d been working on her own or with Walker. Or if, perhaps, she’d acted on some remark he might have made about what would make his climb to the White House easier. She’d recognized the one man among her husband’s retinue who would suit her purposes, a man who’d been willing to slash women to death in order to distract everyone, including media and police, from the murder that meant so much—that of Congressman Hubbard.
And Lara had suspected. She’d sensed that something wasn’t right. And she’d been smart enough to realize that she’d needed to disappear, but she hadn’t realized how quickly.
Running through the woods, he heard voices just ahead.
He burst through the trees to see that Joe Brighton was standing over Meg. Protocol said he should draw his Glock and tell the man to halt and drop his weapon.
But that would give Joe Brighton time to carry out his deed if he didn’t drop his knife. And Matt couldn’t risk shooting at such close range. Especially since Brighton wouldn’t care if he died in killing Meg.
And then Meg would be dead.
Matt didn’t call out a warning. He hurled himself straight at Brighton, bringing them both down a few feet past Meg. He’d taken the man by surprise; the Bowie knife flew into the dirt. He heard Meg scramble to her feet. The man beneath him was struggling to reach his own gun. Matt slammed him with a right hook against his jaw.
He turned just as Meg kicked the Bowie knife far from the man’s grasp. Kendra let out a howl that sounded like that of a dying wildcat; she leaped at Meg.
But Meg didn’t need help. She caught the woman by her shoulders and threw her hard against a tree. Kendra staggered to her feet. Meg headed back for her, a ball of energy and fury.
Meg had a damned good right hook herself.
Kendra Walker went down, sagging against the tree.
Matt heard Jackson’s voice. He stood over the fallen Joe Brighton, panting and gasping as the ghosts of the soldiers moved through the forest like...wraiths.
He looked at Meg and she looked back at him, then scampered across the clearing, ridiculously clad in a too-big officer’s jacket and giant boots. She flung herself into his arms and said, “I knew you’d come. I knew you’d come.”
At their feet Killer barked excitedly.
Matt held Meg in his arms as if she were the most precious being on earth—which she was, to him. And then, as Jackson erupted through the trees and ran over to them, Matt ducked to pick up the little dog.
Jackson glanced at them and then at the two on the ground and nodded his relief. He stepped forward, ready to handcuff Brighton and Kendra Walker.
Matt turned slightly. He smiled and lifted a hand. Soldiers in blue, and soldiers in butternut and gray, were disappearing, becoming part of the trees.
Private Murphy, inclining his head gravely, was the last to go. Matt mouthed the words Thank you, and the apparitions in the forest disappeared into the mists of night.
Epilogue