Krewe of Hunters 8 The Uninvited (18 page)

“Hey, Ally, oh, Lord! How are you? You poor girl, finding
Julian like that… And I’d just been bitching about him. I wish I’d at least been
with you when you found him.”

“It’s horrible, yes, and we’re all devastated, but…” She tried
to smile. “But you’re working. Evan told me to get in touch with you and
Annette. I just hadn’t had a chance.”

“I called him right away. I figured he’d lend a hand. I
desperately need to work, since I still have to pay for school.” Jason kissed
her cheek. “Thankfully, Evan said he could use the help.” He stood back, smiling
curiously and waiting to meet the others. “I’m really pleased you’re here,” he
told the Krewe. “I admit…I was mad as hell at Julian. He seemed to believe he
was a star and that our little lives didn’t matter next to his. But you couldn’t
help liking him. We’re all reeling after his death.” He looked at Allison. “You
holding up okay? The police came and gave me the third degree, but I heard you
were at the station all night.”

“I’m glad they grilled us. We owe it to Julian to figure out
exactly what happened,” she said.

Jason frowned. “What do you mean? Julian was messing around the
way he always did, right?”

“Probably,” she lied. She assumed the Krewe didn’t want others
knowing about their suspicions. “These people are going to find out what—if
anything—is going on at the house.”

He still seemed surprised. “I heard about your unit coming in.
I’m just not sure what this can do for Julian. Well, nothing can be done for
Julian now, of course. But, anyway, sit. I’ll get your orders and you can tell
me anything else you think I need to know. Or ask me anything you want,” he told
the Krewe members.

Jason escorted them over to one of his booths. He made
suggestions, and they ordered their meals and five glasses of iced tea.

“So that’s Jason,” Tyler said as he watched him leave.

“He’s a good kid. And it wouldn’t have made any sense for him
to do anything to Julian,” Allison said earnestly. She was seated next to Tyler.
Kelsey was between Logan and Sean on the other side of the booth. “Jason wants
to keep going to school. You heard him. He needs an income.”

Kelsey reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She
said, “I admire your loyalty to your friends. During a case in San Antonio, I
learned the hard way that we never know another person as well as we think we
do.”

“Yeah, but you got me out of the deal, right?” Logan
teased.

Allison was touched by the closeness between them, and yet when
they worked together, you wouldn’t know they were a couple.

Everyone in the Krewe seemed close to and dependent on one
another. Their easy manner didn’t interfere with their professionalism and only
seemed to enhance it.

“So, you all met on a case?” she asked them.

Logan said, “Yes, we did. Kelsey was the outsider.”

“The rest of us are from Texas,” Sean explained.

“But you work out of Virginia?” Allison asked.

Sean nodded. “Now we do. And the way we work…works, somehow.
Will Chan, one of the original Krewe members, was involved in our last case.
He’s back with his crew while Kat, who was lead on that investigation, is back
with us. They’re fortunate, though. They became a couple and found a great place
in Arlington to call home when we’re on base.”

“Sean isn’t so lucky,” Kelsey said, punching his shoulder
lightly. “The love of his life actually has his old job in California. She’s
with one of the premier special effects studios in Hollywood. So they have to
get together when they can.”

Sean looked at her with a grimace and lifted his glass of iced
tea. “It can work—if you want it to. We do.”

“My poor cousin!”

“I’d forgotten you’re cousins,” Allison said.

“You don’t see a family resemblance?” Kelsey asked.

“I wasn’t really looking for one, but yeah…the eyes.”

“Genetics can be unpredictable. Certain characteristics can
skip generations and reappear. Luckily, sometimes that happens with inherited
diseases, too. Sometimes they’ll skip enough generations for cures to be
discovered,” Logan said.

Allison realized that Tyler was studying her. She felt a rush
of warmth; he was probably thinking about the image of the wraithlike Lucy
Tarleton—and just how much she and Allison resembled each other.

She also realized she liked being where she was. There was
something about Tyler that evoked trust. The man was six-four-plus and built of
steel, and that surely led to a feeling of safety. But she liked the feel of
him, the clean scent of him, his deep voice....

She didn’t want to think about him in any kind of physical way.
She was a tool for him and his team, and they were providing her with a safe
haven. To suddenly enjoy the presence of this particular man was not wise.
Especially since her taste in men hadn’t proven to be at all that reliable in
the past.

Apparently, his thoughts didn’t quite match hers because he
asked, “Can you trace your ancestry back to the Revolution? You’re a historian,
so I imagine you know your own family history.”

Allison nodded. “My dad’s family, yes. They’ve been in Philly
since the 1700s. I lose count of the
greats,
but I
have family buried at Christ Church graveyard—not all that far from Benjamin
Franklin. In fact, I think the monument is close enough for pennies to fall on
great-great-great-whatever granddad.”

“Pennies? Why?”

“Local tradition has it that tossing pennies on Ben’s grave
brings financial good fortune.”

Logan grinned. “Well, that kind of contradicts that proverb of
his—a penny saved is a penny earned.”

They all laughed. Tyler asked, “Did you have a
great-great-great-whatever fighting in the Revolution?”

She nodded again. “William Peter Leigh. He survived the war and
lived to the ripe old age of eighty-seven. He’s at Christ Church with his two
wives, several of his children and their children. My mother’s from a more
recent wave of Irish immigrants. They came to New York during the Famine and
then made their way over to Philadelphia.”

“It would be interesting to find out more about your family,”
Logan murmured.

Allison shook her head. “I know what you’re trying to do, but
as Tyler said, I’m a historian, and I’m familiar with my own family background.
I am
not
related to the Tarleton or the Dandridge
families. The Philadelphia Department of Records has my dad’s family history
generation by generation—and a lot of what’s in the Department of Records can be
verified by church records. Same with the Tarleton family. Angus Tarleton had
two children, Lucy and Sophia. Lucy died, and you can trace the Dandridge
family, as well. The name died out with Cherry Addison’s mother.” She sipped her
iced tea. “But I’m not sure why this is relevant. You tell me that what was done
to Julian wasn’t done by a ghost. So how can the past matter so much?”

“It might and it might not,” Logan said vaguely. “We’ll
see.”

“When we get back into the office, I’d like to keep going
through the papers and records that were thrown around up there.” Tyler smiled
at her. “I’d also like a better tour of the property.”

“You mean the stables and the graveyard?” Allison asked.

“Yes. I looked around quickly when I first arrived, but there’s
nothing like a good tour—with a knowledgeable guide.”

As he finished speaking, Jason and a few other servers appeared
with their meals. “Careful if you’re driving out on the highway,” he told them.
“There was a massive accident on US1.”

“That’s awful,” Allison said.

“They’re just showing it on the television up at the bar,”
Jason was saying. “It looks like at least ten cars are involved and two trucks
have turned over. I’m afraid there are going to be some fatalities.”

Allison slid out of the booth and followed Jason over to the
bar. A reporter was at the scene of the crash, and she saw a twisted mass of
steel on the road. One car had flipped and fallen on another. One truck was on
its side, another stretched across the road, forming a barrier.

Staring at the tangle, she gasped. “Jason, that car—it’s a blue
Volvo.”

“Yeah,” he said.

They were thinking the same thing.

Sarah Vining drove a blue
Volvo.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Jason said. “There must be a
lot of blue Volvos in the Philly area.”

“Sarah said she’d always drive a Volvo because it was the
safest car on the road,” Allison whispered.

“Yes, and it is a Volvo, so even if Sarah’s in that car, I’m
sure she’s going to be okay.”

Allison noticed Tyler standing next to her and saw that he had
his phone out. He was speaking to someone who could zero in on the license plate
and pull up the vehicle records.

She and Jason waited anxiously as he spoke. He grunted replies,
finished with a terse “Thanks,” and snapped his phone shut. He looked from Jason
to Allison.

“The car does belong to Sarah Vining,” he said. “From what the
police have determined so far, Sarah was the one who caused the accident.”

11

W
hile Logan spoke with officers at the
accident scene, Tyler found the ambulance bearing Sarah Vining to the hospital.
After showing his I.D., he was permitted to join the EMTs. The siren was blaring
but he could make out what they were saying behind him.

The EMTs were troubled, speaking urgently with doctors while en
route, doing their best to save the woman.

The Volvo she had so depended on had stood her in good stead;
she had slammed into one of the trucks and her air bag had inflated to protect
her.

But while cars continued to slam into one another around her,
Sarah had done the unthinkable—she had stumbled out of her car. She’d been hit
by another vehicle and hurled several feet in the air.

Sarah lay bruised and broken with an IV in her arm—unresponsive
to anything that was said or done to her as the medical techs strove diligently
to keep her alive.

When they reached the emergency room, she was immediately
wheeled in.

Tyler wasn’t allowed entry, but he identified himself to the
emergency room doctor and told him he’d be waiting for any information or any
possibility of talking to the woman. While the doctor seemed surprised that a
federal agent was so determined to see a vehicular accident victim, he agreed as
he hurried off.

Tyler paced the waiting room. He’d been suspicious of the woman
just before this happened. And he was still suspicious—although no longer of
Sarah herself.

He wanted to know what would cause the woman to lose control of
her vehicle as she had. And why in God’s name would she crawl out of the
car?

More victims from the accident arrived at the hospital. It was
controlled chaos as those with the severest injuries were treated first and the
triage nurses worked at a record pace to see that everyone was taken in
according to need.

Tyler followed one of the EMTs outside, where the man had just
leaned against a wall to draw a deep breath.

“Is everyone in?” he asked.

The EMT nodded. “Twenty-four people. I’m praying they all make
it. One guy was bleeding like a sieve. There were a few children…but I think
they’re going to be okay. A broken arm, a few bumps and bruises, trauma from air
bags. It’s been a rough day.” He offered Tyler a weak smile. “No one at the
morgue yet, though, and we thought we’d see a lot of dead.” His eyes narrowed.
“You have a family member involved?”

“A friend,” he said. “I’m glad to hear that, so far, everyone’s
hanging in.”

He went back to the emergency waiting room and sat down beside
a woman with her arm in a makeshift sling, hoping for a chance to ask her what
she’d seen without looking like an ambulance chaser or a voyeur.

He didn’t have to worry; she just started talking. “It was
unbelievable!” she said, turning to him with wide eyes. “The woman in the blue
Volvo was in front of me, driving, and then she threw her arms up and started
screaming. A few seconds later, she veered into the next lane, crashing into a
truck and spinning into me! Then another car hit the truck and another car hit
me.... Why on earth would she suddenly do that? Oh, my God, I’ll never forget
the sound. It was awful, just awful…the screeching of brakes, the cars all
slamming together. Were you there?”

“No, I wasn’t. I’m so sorry for everyone who was hurt,” Tyler
told her.

“I’m alive!” she said. “It’s a miracle.”

“But you did see the woman driving. And she was fine at first,
and then…”

“It was as if she went crazy. As if she was struck by lightning
or possessed by a demon or something. I knew to get away from her but it was too
late—it all happened so fast!”

Tears appeared in her eyes. Tyler placed a comforting hand on
her arm. “Thank God you’re all right,” he said sincerely.

He saw the doctor who’d been with Sarah Vining when she was
wheeled in.

Tyler excused himself, stood and walked over to him.

“I’m sorry to tell you this. Ms. Vining was declared dead about
four minutes ago,” the doctor told him.

“Her injuries were that extensive?” Tyler asked, feeling deep
pity for the woman, and a sense of loss. He also felt the tension of needing to
find out how she’d died.

He knew she hadn’t just “gone crazy” and caused the accident.
Waiting to hear what had happened was like waiting for a hammer to fall.

“Snakebite,” the doctor said.

“What?” Tyler asked. “Snakebite?”

“The EMTs were at a loss because they couldn’t see the bite.
There must’ve been a snake in her car. A copperhead? They’ll know for sure when
they’ve finished the autopsy. She was bitten. The bite probably caused her to
lose control of the car. Her other injuries led us astray at first, and between
the trauma of the accident and the poison…Ms. Vining succumbed.”

“Thank you. Where will she be taken?” Tyler paused. “You’re
sure? She was bitten by a snake?”

“Look, I still have people here to see, but check it out for
yourself.” He nodded to one of the nurses in the hall. The young man came
forward to direct Tyler into the room where Sarah Vining lay on the operating
table.

Tyler touched her—she was still warm. But she looked dead. Her
face was ashen and gray, and bruises were beginning to show on her flesh. She’d
been a tiny woman; she now looked shrunken, almost as if she were being
mummified with each second that passed.

“Bite is just above her knee on the inner thigh,” the nurse
told him.

Tyler moved the sheet. There was no doubt that she’d been
bitten by a snake. The wound had begun to blacken and go raw before she’d
died.

“Thank you. She will go to autopsy, right?” Tyler asked.

“It’s the law.”

“Of course.”

He left the hospital and returned to the Tarleton-Dandridge
House, suddenly anxious to be with Allison again.

He knew there was a killer now. A killer who had procured a
copperhead—easy enough in the woods nearby, or even in barns and basements—and
put it in Sarah’s car.

The killer had taken chances. Sarah might have seen the snake.
If she’d been able to speak long enough, she might have told the emergency
rescue personnel she’d been bitten. And if they’d given her the antidote along
with their other life-saving techniques, she might have survived.

No, this killer had taken a chance. He’d injured scores of
people in that accident—just to kill Sarah Vining.

When he opened the door, he saw Sean watching the screens by
himself.

“Where’s Allison?”

“She’s in the attic with Logan and Kelsey, going through
papers,” Sean said. “I’m guessing it’s not good news.”

“Sarah Vining is dead.”

“The crash killed her?” Sean asked.

“That—combined with a copperhead bite.”

Sean sat back. As he did so Allison came running down the
stairs. She knew from his face that the news was bad.

Logan followed her down more slowly.

“Well?” he asked.

Tyler shook his head.

Allison stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “She’s dead? Sarah
Vining is dead?”

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking, she sank onto a step. “But it was an automobile
accident. We saw it on the news. It couldn’t have anything to do with what’s
happening here.”

He walked over and sat beside her. She wasn’t crying; she just
stared ahead, dazed.

“Allison, it wasn’t an accident.”

She looked at him. “I saw it. I saw it on TV. Dozens of cars
and people were involved.”

“There was a snake in her car.”

“A…snake?”

“She was bitten by a copperhead.”

“Yes, but you can survive a snakebite! People survive them all
the time.”

“Allison, between the snakebite and the trauma of the crash,
she died. She caused the crash—because she’d been bitten by a snake. That’s not
an accident.”

“I’ve never heard of a copperhead being in anyone’s car, but I
have
heard of people finding them in their
basements or garages,” she said. Then she gasped, taking in the reality of
another death. “Oh, poor Sarah. She was always such a sad little creature.”

“Julian and Sarah. Three days apart. We need to be vigilant.
Someone is trying to keep some kind of information from being discovered,” Logan
said. He walked around in front of Allison. “I’m so sorry. I know you’ve lost a
friend, and now another coworker. This is far more painful for you than we can
begin to understand, but the harder we work at learning the truth, the better
our chances of saving others.”

“You think someone is trying to kill everyone associated with
the house?” Allison asked him bluntly.

“Only people who might know something,” Tyler said. “Of course,
we’re speculating, but we’re pretty good at sorting things out. This morning,
Sarah was talking about getting back into the office. Maybe she came across some
kind of information in there the day Julian died. The board was meeting up
there, right?”

“Yes.”

The word sounded like a sob. He put his arm around her
shoulders, thinking that she might well push him away again—but she didn’t.
“Allison, you’ve been hit with a lot. Two friends dead, the ghost of a friend,
the appearance of a ghost that looks like you and a man in a coma saying your
name. It’s too much to take in. We understand. But I believe
you
are on to something about the house that someone
doesn’t want the world to know. Someone who didn’t care who they killed in that
accident.” He paused. “It has to be an employee—or one of the board
members.”

“And we’re down one board member and one employee,” Logan
said.

“What about the tour groups that were in the house?” she asked.
“We might have had someone on one of the tours who was just crazy, or had some
bizarre agenda? We can’t watch every person every minute they’re in here.
Someone could have slipped away. And that person could have gotten out, too. I
hadn’t set the alarm when I found Julian’s body.”

“It’s possible,” Logan told her.

“But unlikely,” Sean said from behind the screens. He came over
to them and spoke to Allison. “From what I understand about the boy whose dad is
in a coma, the kid’s convinced that the ghost of Beast Bradley likes you,
Allison. I think we should try to coax either Lucy Tarleton or Beast Bradley
into appearing to you. If you can get close enough to one or even both of them,
they might be able to help. You never know what a ghost might know.”

The door opened; Jane and Kat had returned. They were followed
by Julian, who was arguing with Kat.

“That was horrible—and completely undignified!” he said.

“Julian!” Kat set her handbag on a side table and turned to
him. “If I hadn’t asked that they shave your head, we wouldn’t know that you’d
formed a hematoma. A bruise. Someone had cracked you on the head to get your
chin into that blade.”

“I
told
you what happened,” Julian
said. “Good Lord, doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“We all listen to you. And we believe you, Julian,” Jane said,
trying to calm him down. “But we can’t go into a courtroom and tell a jury that
your
ghost
told us what happened!”

“As if it wasn’t bad enough to see myself with that…that Y
incision!” Julian moaned.

“I told you not to come with us,” Kat said.

Julian saw that the others were watching him. “Okay, so I
shouldn’t have gone. But I felt I had to.”

“And,” Kat continued, “we’ve proven that what you said is true.
If I hadn’t done what I did, the medical examiner might still be thinking it was
an accident.”

“You asked him not to let anything out to the press yet?” Tyler
asked.

Kat nodded. “Of course.”

“A sound and decent guy?”

“The M.E. on Julian’s case was a woman. She’s about sixty, and
I believe she’ll be extremely discreet,” Kat said.

Julian walked over to Allison. “See? I told you I was
murdered.”

“I didn’t disbelieve you,” Allison told him.

“We’re going to solve this,” Jane assured Julian. Then she
paused, looking at the others. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I called you. Didn’t you get my message?” Logan asked.

Jane fumbled in her pocket. “We didn’t have our phones. I
didn’t think to check for messages.”

“There was a huge pileup on US1,” Logan said. He went on to
explain that he and Tyler had gone to the site, and that Tyler had accompanied
Sarah to the hospital.

And that Sarah had died.

And the
way
she’d died.

“We have to move fast on this,” Jane murmured.

“You’ll have to get me in to the autopsy,” Kat said urgently,
addressing Logan.

“Sarah is…dead? Too?” Julian asked. “And it was made to look
like another accident. With a snake. Lord, someone’s pushing it. I’m really
sorry about Sarah. I’m still really sorry about me.”

“My condolences, Allison,” Jane said. “But…we need to figure
out what’s going on. I can play with the different paintings and pictures, and
see what I can learn by doing that.”

“Are you going to get started now?” Logan asked Jane.

“Yes, unless you need me for anything else?”

“No, I’d like to see what you discover.”

“What do you think you’ll discover?” Allison asked.

“The truth,” Jane told her.

Allison smiled at that. “The truth about…”

“The past owners of the house and those who dwelt within,” Jane
said. “You’ll see, and I’m sure you’ll find it fascinating.”

“Do you need help setting up?” Sean asked her.

“You can grab the box with the printer and scanner,” Jane said.
“I’m going to set up shop in the grand salon.” She turned to Allison. “Please
don’t worry. I have protective covers for the table.”

“You know, I’m not worried about artifacts anymore,” Allison
said.

“I’m going to do some sketches, photos and comparisons of the
paintings in the house. If anyone wants me, that’s where I’ll be.” She shrugged,
smoothing back her hair. “Well, whether you want me or not, that’s where I’ll
be.”