The Silenced

Nonetheless, Matt stayed nearby. When Jenny said the group was moving on, the young boy walked up to Meg.

 

Meg obviously realized he was coming and turned around. A smile lit her face; Matt was startled by the way that smile touched him. He felt something tugging at him; he wasn’t sure whether it was about his emotions—or his libido.

 

“Joey,” Meg said softly, although they were approaching the steps to the upper level—the cemetery, the ruins of one church and the beautiful Catholic church that had survived the war because its canny priest had continued to hoist the British flag, which stopped both sides from firing on it.

 

She knew the boy. So they weren’t seeing a ghost who might help, but maybe this child could.

 

“Meg.” The boy started to speak. Then, seeing Matt, he hesitated. He reached out to pet Killer, who was in Meg’s arms.

 

“It’s okay, Joey, Matt’s with me,” Meg told the boy. “This is Matt Bosworth. He’s a federal agent—like me.” She turned to Matt. “Joey’s family and my family are friends. His house is near my parents’ house.” She glanced around. “Um, are your mom and dad here, Joey?”

 

The boy was reluctant to answer, and Matt assumed that Meg would address this later, when they had a little more privacy.

 

“Hi, Joey, nice to meet you,” he said.

 

Joey stared up at him, still a little wary.

 

“Maybe I should follow the tour and let you two catch up,” Matt said.

 

“He’s really okay,” Meg told Joey.

 

“Oh, you’re, like, friends, right?” Joey asked.

 

“Good friends,” Matt said.

 

“Oh.” Joey nodded wisely, as if he’d determined they were actually more than friends—as in a romantic pair.

 

He seemed to like that concept, and neither of them corrected him.

 

“Have you seen Lara?” Joey asked worriedly.

 

“No, in fact, I’m looking for her,” Meg told him. “Have you seen her?”

 

Joey nodded again.

 

“Recently?” Meg asked.

 

Joey shook his head. “But it wasn’t that long ago. I can’t remember exactly. She was here a couple weeks ago.”

 

“I’m so glad you saw her,” Meg said. “Do you know where she was staying?”

 

“She didn’t stay. She said she’d just come for the day.”

 

“Where did you see her?” Matt asked him.

 

He waved toward the car lot. “She parked, and then she came up the steps.” He paused to look at Matt. “You know her—she’s so nice. She and Meg...” He paused again with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Well, they’re nice. They like kids. So I ran after her when she went up the steps. I wanted to say hi.”

 

“That was very sweet,” Meg said. “Where did she go?”

 

“She stopped in the church and she was kneeling, so I thought maybe something bad happened, or maybe she didn’t want to be disturbed. But then she walked up to Harper Cemetery. I followed her there.” He grinned at Matt. “First we stopped at the other John Brown’s grave. All the kids know about John Brown’s head.”

 

Matt was anxious for whatever information Joey had, but he was ten or so. At that age, kids would keep talking as long as you let them.

 

“Yeah, it’s a creepy story,” he said. “It happened years later, and it wasn’t the John Brown, but a John Brown, who had himself buried standing up, with his head in glass. He paid a guy to watch for seven days to see if he’d come back to life.”

 

“And then,” Meg continued, “the glass broke and the head came off and rolled around and kids thought it was a toy. They played kickball with it, until someone rescued it. He sent it to the widow, who assured him that she had her John Brown’s head. John Brown is a fairly common name, except that in Harpers Ferry, everyone immediately assumes it means only one John Brown.”

 

Joey nodded enthusiastically. “Kids still like to play in the cemetery,” he said, grinning up at Matt.

 

“I love cemeteries, too,” he told Joey with a smile.

 

“Hey, you guys coming?” Jenny called to them.

 

Meg raised a hand. “We’ll catch up!” she called back.

 

Jenny went on with her tour.

 

“So what else did Lara do at the cemetery?” Meg asked.

 

“Well, she walked around looking at graves,” Joey said. “She seemed okay. I went up to her and she hugged me, but she acted kind of...weird, so I asked her if she was okay. She smiled and said she was fine. She was glad to see me, she wanted to know about Little League and all... But before she left, we walked to Jefferson Rock. We were looking out over the river and she talked about the great legends and how much she loves it here, even if bad things happened a long time ago. They were a lesson to us all,” he added breathlessly. “That’s what she said—a lesson to us all. We sat on the rock for a while and then she had to go back to work. But she told me if I saw you, I was supposed to say you should go to the cemetery. She said you’d understand what that means. I didn’t know when I’d see you again, but I heard my mom talking about how you were in town. So I—I came out to find you.”

 

“We’ll walk you home,” Meg insisted.

 

Heather Graham's books