Krewe of Hunters 8 The Uninvited (23 page)

“Mr. Standish, I’m sorry. I guarantee that call didn’t come
from anyone with the right to make it or to say such things. You and I have
corresponded, and you know I’m intrigued by your information and theories.
Actually, I was calling because I was hoping you’d take a few minutes to see me
tomorrow,” Allison said. “You have to believe me. That was no official stance
taken by anyone at the Tarleton-Dandridge House.”

He sniffed over the line. “Well, I didn’t
think
it was you—not based on our email correspondence. I hear
you’re having all kinds of trouble there. A guide killed himself on a bayonet
like an idiot, and one of your board members died in that awful accident
yesterday.”

“We need your help, Mr. Standish,” Allison said simply.

“Everything I’ve written is online.”

“Yes, but your letters aren’t. And I’d like to see the other
objects in your collection.”

He was silent a minute. “All right. Two o’clock. I’ll give you
the address to my shop and my little museum,” he told her. “Be on time, or
forget it.”

Once she’d hung up, Allison repeated the conversation to
Kelsey.

“He said it was a woman who called?” Kelsey asked.

Allison nodded.

“Sarah Vining is dead.”

“Yes. That leaves Cherry Addison,” Allison said.

“Or Annette Fanning,” Kelsey reminded her. But she didn’t press
it.

* * *

Officer Alfred Crosbie from animal control had the snake
in a terrarium.

A big terrarium.

It was a big snake.

“I’m sorry to say we’ll have to kill the creature and do a
necropsy if we’re going to tell you anything about it. Not that I can tell you
much—just what kind of food it’s eaten, such as wild catches or pet-store-bred
mice or rats. I do believe, however, that we’re looking at a copperhead someone
managed to catch in the wild,” Crosbie told Tyler. “See, look at the snake
closely. The skin’s a little rough. An animal kept for research or as a
pet—don’t know anyone who keeps a pet copperhead, but some people are
crazy—wouldn’t be as beat-up as this.”

Crosbie looked mournful at the idea of killing any creature.
But by now, the police had concluded that there was something suspicious about
the snake being in the car.

“Where did you find it?” Tyler asked him.

“Coiled tight under the driver’s seat,” Crosbie said. “We’re
lucky he didn’t get out and slither away in all the commotion. But a snake has
instincts, and he just hid. That’s what creatures do. Shame to kill this one,
but I’ll let you know as soon as our vet gets the necropsy done.”

Tyler thanked him. As he left the impound area, he started back
toward the house but then paused.

He made his way to Ethan’s grand old mansion. Oxford’s
housekeeper showed him into the study and he waited there for Ethan to
arrive.

The older man wore a casual sweater, apologizing for his
appearance. “Forgive me. I’ve been on the phone. I’m devastated by Sarah’s death
and, I’m afraid, she had no family. She asked me ages ago to be the executor of
her will. Her body’s still at the morgue, but I’ve been receiving calls about
the legal status of her property.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Oxford. And actually, Sarah’s death is why
I’m here to see you.”

He sat down at his desk, suddenly looking very old and
confused.

“Sarah died in an accident,” he said. “She nearly killed dozens
of people. I can’t begin to imagine what happened to her.”

The hospital had not released the results of Sarah’s death. For
once, it seemed, there’d been no leaks.

“Sarah caused the accident and died because of a snakebite,”
Tyler explained. “And I’ll ask you not to share that information.”

Oxford looked even more confused. “A snakebite?”

“Yes, sir. There was a copperhead in her car. And we believe it
was put there intentionally.”

Oxford stared at him as if he were speaking another
language.

“You and the board members are friends, obviously, since you’re
handling Sarah’s estate,” Tyler said.

Oxford nodded, waving a hand in the air. “We have many similar
interests. We all love the house and Philly and…art, music and so on.” He
sighed. “When I agreed to be Sarah’s executor, I never figured I’d outlive
her.”

“What do you think of your fellow board members?” Tyler
asked.

Oxford was offended. “I think they’re fine human beings! I know
I’m the one who asked Adam Harrison to bring in a team, but you’re way off base
if you believe any member of the board might have anything to do with this. I’ve
known them for years.”

“And they’re all fine, upstanding citizens of Philadelphia,
ardent supporters of the history of the city and the city itself,” Tyler said
mildly.

“Yes!” Ethan exclaimed. “There was a tour going just before
Julian Mitchell was found dead. You need to be looking at outside sources.”

“We are. But outside sources don’t know the house the way your
board members and guides do. If you’re right, you can help me clear those
people, and then maybe we’ll find another direction to go in.” There was no
other direction; he knew that. Oxford didn’t.

Ethan let out a long sigh. “What did you want to ask?”

“Is there anything you can tell me about the board’s activity
in the past few weeks?”

“Activity?”

“Yes. Such as, has anyone been on a hunting or hiking trip out
in the woods? Has anyone become involved with a magic shop or illusions of any
kind?”

The man’s face seemed to grow red as Tyler spoke.

“Yes,” he said, “actually, someone has been on a hiking
trip.”

“Who?”

“Me,” Oxford told him.

* * *

Kelsey tended to be soft-spoken, but Allison was pretty
sure she had a strong, tough edge, since she’d been a U.S. Marshal before
joining the unit.

She wished she was as strong.

“I think I’m going to take shooting lessons,” Allison said as
they left the attic.

Kelsey grinned. “It’s not a bad idea to be acquainted with
firearms, but it’s a skill that came along with what I wanted to do. Hopefully,
the world isn’t so horrible that we all need to spend our days at a shooting
range.”

As they headed along the second floor landing to the staircase,
Allison said, “I hear you’re engaged. Congratulations. Is it hard working with
Logan?”

“Thank you, and no, we work well together. We’ve had a few
bumps along the way, of course. I remember thinking that I wasn’t happy about
the ‘unit’ situation when it first came up, but then…things happened. When we’re
working, we’re working. Our private time is private. But we’re kind of like the
marine corps in our philosophy. No man—or woman—left behind. So we’re all
protective of one another. Logan and I…we manage.”

“What about the others?” Allison asked. “How do they manage
their relationships?”

“Sean was in special effects before he joined the unit, so he
and Madison have a great deal in common—and they can both sleep on a plane.
Which is good, since they’ve been a continent apart. Things are easy enough for
Kat, since she and Will have an apartment in Virginia.”

“Jane?”

“Jane was in love with a cop who was killed in the line of duty
a couple of years ago. She dates casually, but I think it’ll be a while before
she’s ready for another serious relationship. She’s seeing a suit in Washington
now.”

“A suit?”

“Another federal agent—but he’s in the tax division,” Kelsey
said, grinning.

“Oh. How does that work? I mean, does he have your…skills?”

“No. We don’t say much when we’re around him,” Kelsey told
her.

“So, you all live a pretty normal life?”

“I wouldn’t call it normal. But I will say, I like that we’re
together. It’s nice to be
unusual
together.” Kelsey
paused. “You didn’t ask about Tyler.”

“Oh. Yes, well, what about Tyler?” Allison tried to sound
casual. But she fumbled with the switch as she turned on a hallway lamp,
lighting their path to the stairs.

“Tyler is a great guy. He was one of Logan’s best friends
before we started this. They were both Texas Rangers.”

“Yes, I knew that.” Allison nodded.

“Everyone looks at Tyler and thinks, ‘Hmm, tough guy. He must
get anything he wants and be as hard as a rock.’ He’s not like that at all.”

“He’s very courteous.”

Kelsey laughed. “That’s what you think, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means we can see sparks when you’re with him,” Kelsey
said.

Allison felt her face heat with a fiery blush. “I don’t know
anything about his life or his…relationships.”

“Does he go out? Yes. Is he in a relationship? No, not that I’m
aware of, and I believe I would be. He’s very private. He’s kept what he knows,
sees and does from almost everyone around him. I don’t think Tyler could form a
relationship with someone who wasn’t…
unusual,
as
well. He couldn’t live a lie. Anyway, that’s my two cents on the matter.”

Allison realized she’d paused to stare at Kelsey when Kelsey
said, “Maybe you should give Tyler a call now, and tell him about your talk with
Martin Standish.”

“Yes, I should do that.”

Kelsey smiled and walked down the stairs.

Allison called Tyler. He listened to her gravely and asked,
“He’s sure it was a woman?”

“He sounded sure,” Allison said. “I guess that would suggest
Sarah, Annette or Cherry Addison.”

“Sarah’s dead, so…”

“She still might have called him. She wasn’t dead then.”

“In that case, you could ask her.”

“You want me to go back to the morgue?” Allison asked.

“You were the one she talked to.”

“Kat’s there now, right?”

“Yes. Maybe she’s made contact, but according to Kat, ghosts
don’t usually like to be around when an autopsy is being done on their remains.
We’ll go there sometime today.”

Allison agreed. She wished Sarah was more like Julian—and that
she wasn’t haunting the morgue, of all places.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up.

When she came downstairs, Adam Harrison was gone. He’d see them
later at the gallery. Sean was adjusting a camera, and Jane beckoned them into
the salon where she’d been working. Allison told the others about the phone
call.

Logan, as usual, was pragmatic. “It’s not conclusive that the
same person called this man and then attacked Julian, but it’s certainly a
lead,” he said. “And if it was a woman…”

“Do you think Annette Fanning will come to the art show?”
Kelsey asked Allison.

“I assume so,” Allison said. “We—the guides—supported the board
members whenever we could. And vice versa.”

Julian was there, staring down at prints Jane had made from the
work she’d been doing.

“It’s uncanny!” Julian breathed as Kelsey and Allison came into
the room.

Logan smiled at Allison. “You really need to take a look.”

“I took the picture of you off your Facebook page,” Jane told
her apologetically.

“Tyler is on to something,” Logan said. “Check out the
transparencies Jane’s been working on.”

Jane worked with mixed media, some of her examples done by
transferring images on the computer and others using her own sketches.

Allison was a little afraid of what she was going to see.

But when they showed her what they were talking about, it was
chilling.

Jane had juxtaposed pictures of Allison and paintings of Lucy
Tarleton. When their faces were at the same angle and transparencies were placed
on either image, they melded almost completely.

“You really do resemble her,” Julian said. “I always thought
so, but back then any pretty dark-haired, blue-eyed young woman could look
something like Lucy.”

She stepped back. “But I don’t understand what this means. I’m
not
Lucy Tarleton come back to life. We’ve seen
her ghost.”

“We need to learn what the relationship is,” Logan said. “It
may matter.”

“I think I know what it is.”

Allison swung around. Tyler had returned, standing in the
doorway of the grand salon.

“What?” Allison asked him.

He smiled. “I think your father’s family did adopt a child. Not
recently. I think they adopted him or her during the Revolution. I’m willing to
bet that Lucy Tarleton had an illegitimate child—which her family would have
covered up at the time—and that child was taken in by the Leigh family.”

“But how could Lucy have done everything she did, carry on with
her espionage, even walk around Philly, pregnant?” Allison demanded.

“Supposedly queens and nobility managed to hide the births of
their lovers’ offspring throughout history,” Tyler said. “That would explain why
Lucy’s trying to get through to you. She’s afraid for you and she believes the
only way you’ll be safe is if you find out who’s killing people at this
house—and why.”

“An interesting theory,” Jane said. “Allison, don’t look so
stricken. It’s a good thing—if it’s true. It means Lucy will do whatever she can
to protect you.”

“Which, I’m afraid, isn’t all that much.” Julian grimaced. “I’m
a ghost and what can I do? Hope to sound an alarm? Blow cold air at
someone?”

“You moved paper today,” Jane reminded him brightly.

“It took incredible will and practice,” Julian said.

“Ah, but Lucy’s been around for over two centuries,” Tyler
pointed out. “She’s had time to learn. We don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“Not
talking to her fellow ghosts,
I can tell you that much,” Julian said with a sniff.

“Let me show you what else I’ve come up with,” Jane told them.
“I took pictures of the paintings and worked with them. I made three-dimensional
head shapes—the same as I did with Lucy and Allison,” she said. “And here’s what
I have of Beast Bradley.”

Allison walked over to the end of the table. Jane had devised a
picture that blended the two images of Beast Bradley, the one from the study and
that from Lucy’s bedroom.