The Seekers, page 14
Carl looked from Dallas to Joe, and they both nodded. “Silly me. I’ve played in a few films about murders, but the real thing...” He paused, shaking his head. “Anyway, what are we going to do for the rest of the evening?”
“Keep a watch on the inn, the graveyard and the little church,” Dallas told him. “Joe and the cops will watch out front, we’ll be watching out back. The backside of the inn has that balcony.”
“Oh!” Keri said suddenly. “The hatch door to the cellar... It never had a lock. I don’t think we should sleep here with that open. And, Carl, you have to change the locks.”
“We’re doing that tomorrow,” he said, “but there’s a lock on the cellar door now. Only way through it is with a hatchet.”
“I’m glad you thought of that,” Keri said.
“I didn’t. Dallas brought the padlock.”
Keri laughed softly. It was nice to hear her laugh.
“What did you think of Milly, by the way? And Rod and their partner, Stan?” Dallas asked them.
“They were...nice,” Keri said.
“Really intrigued about what we were doing,” Carl said.
“And good at what they did. They had boxes and boxes in here quickly and all set up for us,” Keri said.
“Did it seem to you that they knew the inn well?” Joe asked.
“Well, they had to know it, but I don’t know how well,” Carl said. “They’ve worked here before. Spencer Atkins told me to call them, so I’m assuming he used them at some time.”
“I’m assuming that anyone from the area knows the inn,” Keri added. “It’s the only real historic thing standing, besides the church and the graveyard, for a number of miles. I think the new hotel has only been open about five years or so, and before that, there weren’t all the fast-food places around the highway. While Spencer had the inn, this would have been the only real restaurant around here.”
“All the new places opening probably caused Spencer to sell to me,” Carl said. “He owned it twenty years or so.”
Keri was frowning. She jumped up suddenly, half of her food still on her plate. “I have to go look at something,” she said.
“What?” Joe asked, standing as well. Carl and Dallas followed suit.
“I just flipped through some of those files today... I don’t know if it’s important or not, but Spencer kept information on the different people who worked for the place. Sometimes his notations were just ‘in for the day.’ And he used just first names a lot, with a mark that he’d paid them in cash.”
Everyone followed her out of the kitchen and behind the bar across to the museum.
In the museum, she sat at the desk and dug into the manila folders, flipping quickly through them.
“Here... This was just four years ago. ‘Milly.’ He paid someone named Milly a hundred dollars for two days ‘stand-in’ work.” She set the file down. “I guess that doesn’t mean anything, except that he tried to help her make some money while she and Rod got their business going.”
She looked at them all for a minute.
“That doesn’t mean anything, does it? This place is small. I guess everyone knows everyone.”
“It may mean something, and it may not, but it’s good information,” Dallas assured her. “We know now that they know each other well.”
“But I guess they would have known one another well enough whether she’d ever worked for him or not,” Keri said.
“It may also mean that Milly Kendall knows the place better than she might have implied when trying to get Brad to let her stay for the ghost investigation,” Joe said.
“But what does that mean?” Carl asked, confused.
“No idea,” Dallas told him. “But it’s something we need to find out about.”
“And why is that?” Carl asked.
“Because,” Joe explained, “this whole thing could be a conspiracy. Perhaps we’re dealing with a coven or cult of some kind. What I’m afraid of is this—it’s possible that one of the kidnappers decided that the million-dollar reward Barbara’s parents were offering was worth a lot more than loyalty to the group. Now, if someone did betray a group, and they were found out, that person is in serious danger. If we can figure out who it is—”
“Before they’re killed,” Dallas put in.
“Then we might find out exactly what happened here,” Joe said.
9
“There’s an Amish community about fifty miles from here,” Keri noted, looking up from the ledger she’d been reading.
They were gathered upstairs in room 207; Joe and Dallas were seated in a pair of armchairs by a small side table, and Keri had plunked herself on the foot of the bed. Carl leaned against a dresser. It was growing late.
“This is York County,” Dallas said, frowning. “There are a number of Amish and Mennonite communities near us, although I believe most of them are actually in Lancaster County. Which is a different jurisdiction, but we could still drive there quickly.”
Keri spoke up. “But there’s a notation about this one in particular that was made by John Newby, about three months before the massacre took place. ‘No longer attempt purchase from Matthew Graber. Will not supply.’ I’m just curious as to why they couldn’t purchase from the man anymore. I came through here on a road trip with my parents once, and we stopped and bought all kinds of food and other things at a stand. I’m sure that over the years, the owners here at the tavern did a lot of their shopping out at the Amish markets. They have wonderful, fresh produce. I might be grasping at straws here, but if farmers were unwilling to sell to Newby, they might have known or suspected something about him.”
“We can drive out tomorrow,” Joe said. He turned to Dallas. “I can take Keri, and you and Carl can hold down the fort here. When are you thinking of bringing the rest of the Truth Seekers back in?”
“A couple of days,” Dallas told him. “Drive out tomorrow and see what you can learn.”
“I’m confused,” Carl said. “You think that seeing an Amish farmer—or the descendant of an Amish farmer—can help solve Julie’s murder?”
Joe looked at Keri before answering, understanding her train of thought.
“Julie was killed in a ritualistic manner. Or, at least, displayed so. If there’s a conspiracy going on, it could help if we find out there’s been some kind of secret society meeting out here for years. It may be a stretch, but Julie’s death was carefully planned. The killer needed help to get her body into the house. If Barbara Chrome met someone recruiting somewhere in New York and came out here willingly, she might have spurred the group into killing Julie.”
“Dumb way to get the FBI off her trail,” Carl noted.
“Yes—unless the killers believe that we know nothing about them at all, because we’ll be looking for someone who killed her in the inn to discredit you or the Truth Seekers,” Dallas explained.
“Why would anyone want to discredit me?” Carl asked.
“Possibly because you’re rich and famous and could buy and refurbish this place,” Joe told him.
“Am I really that famous?” he asked Keri.
She laughed softly. “Getting there,” she told him.
Carl stood, looking at Dallas. “If Joe and Keri leave tomorrow, we’ve still got the cops out there, right?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dallas said, grinning. “But yes, the cops will still be out there tomorrow. We have them several more days. And if we need to, we can call on our local federal office as well.”
“Okay. Great. And Dallas, I have complete confidence in you. I only play tough guys onscreen. Basically, I don’t want to die, so all protection is welcome. And you, my friend, do you know where to go to get to this Amish community?” he asked Keri.
She lifted the old ledger she’d been reading. “Newby drew a little map,” she told him. “Times have changed, but the landscape, not so much.”
“We’ll find it,” Joe said.
“Probably a waste of time,” Carl warned her. “You could be bonding over creepy stuff with me and Dallas and looking for clues out in the graveyard.”
Keri took his words seriously and looked from Joe to Dallas and back again.
“I don’t ever mean to waste your time,” Keri said, “but we’re here because we think something has been going on around the inn, and it may have to do with Julie’s kidnapping. Many people may be involved. I still think it’s a good idea to try to become friends with someone out in the community—I believe they would help us.”
“I think it’s a good call,” Dallas said.
“And I think I’m going to bed. I’m going to leave the doors open,” Carl said. “Do you mind, Keri? I am definitely creeped out. You know, my publicist and my agent wanted to be with me on this, and I said no. I wanted to do this all on my own. I think I’m still glad that they’re not here, but I’d have them in blow-up beds in my room, if they were.”
“One of us will be on guard through the night at all times, so you really can try to sleep,” Dallas assured him. He glanced at Joe.
“I’ll take first shift. I’m going to keep reading,” Joe said. He waved his phone in the air and grinned. “Glad I got the larger size.”
Keri unwound from her spot on the bed; it seemed that those who were going to sleep this shift were supposed to try, which meant she needed to be out of Dallas’s room.
“All right, then. Good night,” she said.
“And all doors wide open,” Carl added. “You know, it may not be so creepy, once we have the Truth Seekers back in. Safety in numbers, and all that.”
No one replied.
Carl groaned. “You still think one of them is involved.”
“We don’t know who is involved,” Joe said quietly. “But tonight, Dallas and I are here and four cops are just outside. The tavern door is locked, as is the cellar door. No one here to worry about.”
“Except for the dead. Ghosts,” Carl said. He grimaced and started through the open door connecting to his own room.
Keri followed him, wishing he hadn’t said that.
Joe was behind her. Carl threw himself facedown on his bed. Keri went into her own room, and Joe stopped at the connecting door to his room, turning to her.
“I’m up for first shift. Don’t hesitate to call, scream, yelp, anything, if you need me.”
She smiled. She was tempted to ask him if he could just sit in her room and watch her sleep. Or hop on the bed beside her.
She’d keep him awake.
Her own idea made her wince inwardly. But when he wasn’t being a jerk—which he didn’t seem to be anymore—he was a very attractive man with all the right stuff. Those eyes of his, stormy gray sometimes, silver sometimes. And his height which hid the wire-muscled appeal of his build.
“Thanks,” she told him.
Like Carl, she decided she would just lie down. She shed her jacket and decided that sleeping in her shirt and jeans would do her well. She’d be prepared if she had to jump and run.
She pulled back the blankets on the queen bed and crawled beneath the sheets, plumping her pillow. A small light burned on the dressing table, and dimmer light streamed in through Carl’s room from Dallas’s.
Joe’s light was also on.
She was glad.
She lay there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
“You okay?” Joe asked. “I can sit in a chair right here, by the door. Unless that keeps you awake?”
She sat up and looked at him and smiled. “I think it would be great if you sat in a chair right by the door.”
He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, taking a seat in a chair he brought over from the dressing table in his room. He had his phone out, and seemed to be quickly absorbed in whatever he was reading.
She still didn’t think that she’d sleep.
She did.
That night, she dreamed of being in the forest. Mist fell, but she wasn’t afraid. She was laughing and running around with friends. She was in a dressing gown, something long and white.
The dream was strangely enjoyable at first. The earth was soft, with rich grass growing thickly on the ground. Her feet were bare, and she thought that she and her friends might be playing a game of hide-and-seek. It occurred to her that she had never played hide-and-seek in a forest with friends, but she mentally shrugged it off as a dream.
The light, silvery mist began to darken. She thought she heard someone chanting, but she couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t even be sure that words were being said, that what she was hearing came from people—it might have just been the sound of the breeze rustling through branches, cool and pleasant.
The darkness continued to creep in. The trees began to sway as if the breeze had become a violent wind.
She knew she needed to wake up. She tried to force herself to do so. When she opened her eyes, she was lying in her bed, but she was staring at a man in his late forties, with a lean face and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard.
She was awake, she realized. The room was hardly dark or shadowy. But she found she couldn’t move her arms or legs, couldn’t even turn her head to look away from the man looming over her.
“Please, I did not do this thing,” he said.
Keri meant to scream. The sound came out as garbled, pathetic little gasp—and the man disappeared.
It didn’t matter; as he had promised, Joe was quickly up and at her side, kneeling by the bed.
“Keri, what happened? You’re all right, I’m here.”
Yes, she knew now that the woman in white was real. Or as real as a ghost could be. She saw the dead; others saw the dead.
But this ghost had really shaken her...
She threw her arms around Joe. He accepted her wild hold, his arms coming around her close. His fingers stroked gently over her hair.
“It’s all right. It’s all right. If you can tell me what happened, or what you saw, it might help.”
She held tight to him for a long moment, glad of his arms around her, of the heat streaming from him and into her. She hadn’t even realized until he touched her that her limbs were as heavy and cold as ice.
He kept soothing her. She didn’t want to pull away. She knew she had to.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, gaining control.
“You never need to be sorry,” he assured her, his silver eyes soft. “I know how startling it is, I know just how frightening it can be. Hey, I once nearly drew my Glock on a ghost, okay? It’s tough, it’s scary. Until you get used to it.”
She managed something of a smile. He was still so close to her. In her current state of heightened senses, she felt that he all but reeked of masculinity and sexuality.
“I was just dreaming,” she admitted. “And the dream was okay... I was running in the forest and playing hide-and-seek. There was a light mist, and then it began to turn dark. I thought that people were chanting. Maybe not, because it got windy. Windy and ominous. I knew I had to wake up. I thought that I woke up, and then there was a man, bending over me. He said something like, ‘I didn’t do this thing.’ And then he was gone.”
“I see.” His words weren’t skeptical or condescending.
“I saw him, really. Maybe I was still dreaming, and I woke myself up when I screamed.”
Joe smiled. “That didn’t really qualify as a scream.”
“Choked, garbled...whatever.”
“Do you know who he was?”
Keri inhaled deeply, lowering her head and wincing. “We spent so much time in that museum, and we saw all those pictures on the wall. We’re in a supposedly haunted inn, where terrible things happened. I believe we are sadly impressionable as human beings, so—”
“Keri, do you know who he was?”
She nodded. “The man I saw was...Hank Bergen.”
“If he’s trying to tell you he didn’t do it, maybe he just needs help. Beatrice’s ghost said that her father didn’t do it, and now it seems you’ve seen his ghost as well. They need you,” Joe told her.
As he spoke, they both turned, hearing footsteps on the hardwood floor. Dallas was there, at the connecting door from Carl’s room.
“Hey,” he said, his tone curious.
Joe explained.
Dallas looked at Keri and nodded slowly. “You seem to be the conduit.”
“I am not any kind of a medium,” Keri protested. “I scream every time a ghost shows up. Shouldn’t they be looking for one of you?”
“Hopefully, soon enough,” Dallas said. “Anyway, Joe, you can sleep if you want. I had a pretty decent half a night.” He smiled.
Keri swallowed. She didn’t want Joe to leave her. He started to rise; she almost begged him to stay. She didn’t have to.
“Move over,” he told her. “I’ll be right here, on the edge. I will try to sleep, and not to worry—Dallas will be right there, between Carl’s room and yours.” He hesitated. “Did you—want Carl in here?”
She frowned, confused. “What? Carl? Why?”
“Aren’t you two...together?”
“No!” Her word was emphatic, and she shook her head. “No—I like Carl. He seems to be a nice and bright and even giving person. But—no! There’s nothing going on between us.”
“Okay, then...you’re all right with me being here?”
“Yes, thank you.” She shifted far over.
The bed was certainly big enough. He stayed on his side, not touching her, sleeping on his back, hands folded over his chest.
Curled to her own side, well aware he was there and tempted to curl up right next to him, Keri forced herself to close her eyes.
Exhaustion was a good thing. She slept.
This time, no dreams plagued her. However, when she awoke, she was curled up beside Joe, and he was lying on his back, one arm around her as her head rested on his chest.
And of course, he was awake...
