The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(27)

I wasn’t sure how to interpret his response, but I also knew better than to press. If and when he wanted to tell me about his grandfather, he would do so. Just like I would confess all my secrets to him when I felt the time was right. Given all that I still kept from him, I could hardly expect candor in return. Still, I missed the closeness we’d shared during his recovery. The distance between us now made me worry about the strength of our bond. Made me ponder the sustainability of a relationship between two people as insular as Devlin and I were.

“I’ll keep him in my thoughts,” I said, and he gave a brief nod.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Other than a little soreness, as good as new. Thank you for bringing my clothes by this morning.”

“No problem. You were sleeping so I didn’t want to wake you.”

Now it was I who nodded and we walked on in silence until I stumbled over a tree root that snaked across the path.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Devlin asked as he took my elbow. “No lingering headaches or fuzzy vision?”

“Just clumsy,” I said with a smile. “It might help to watch where I’m going.”

“That’s generally a good rule to follow,” he teased, but his eyes were dark and attentive. “I hate what happened to you.”

“It’s over now and it could have been so much worse.”

“And preventable if I’d been with you last night.”

“No one could have foreseen the break-in. You were exactly where you needed to be last night.”

“This situation with my grandfather...” He trailed off with a frown. “I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it yet.”

“I understand.”

“He’s been so deceptive in the past. It’s hard to tell how much of what he’s going through is manipulation and how much is delusion.”

“Delusion?”

Devlin glanced at me. “It’s possible he could be seriously ill.”

“Then, you should go and be with him for these tests. You don’t need to worry about me. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“And I intend to do everything in my power to make sure you stay that way. I’ve requested extra patrols on your street and I had all your locks changed. That’s why I was late to the ceremony.” He fished a set of keys from his pocket and placed them in my palm. “As for the shopkeeper, Owen Dowling, I’ve run a background check. He doesn’t have a criminal record and the shop is legitimate. It’s been at that same location for decades and has an impeccable reputation among local collectors.”

“So that’s that, then. It’s a dead end.”

“It would appear so.”

“Well, I do have a bit of news,” I said. “Dr. Shaw brought Ezra Kroll’s sisters to the cemetery to meet me earlier.”

“How did that come about?”

“Dr. Shaw and Louvenia Durant became acquainted a few years ago when she contacted him about disturbances on her property. I gather that’s one of the reasons she came to see him this morning. They’ve had some recent sightings.”

Devlin’s silence spoke volumes as he turned back to the path. His disdain for the unknown was our biggest bone of contention. How could I explain my gift to someone who clung to his disbelief as though it were a lifeline?

“Anyway, Dr. Shaw brought them to Oak Grove to meet me because they’re interested in having Kroll Cemetery restored. You mentioned that you used to explore the old commune when you were a boy, but you didn’t say much about the graveyard. Do you remember anything about it?”

“A little. As I recall, the entrance was hidden by a maze,” he said. “As a kid, I found that pretty fascinating.”

“Fascinating but not unusual. Mazes were often planted at graveyard entrances for the same purpose you’ll occasionally see high thresholds in Japanese cemeteries. To discourage ghostly wanderings.”

He gave me a look. “How does that work?”

“Spirits can’t step over or navigate crooked pathways. A superstitious community would have been especially cautious with suicides. The ghosts of those who take their own lives are considered notorious wanderers. That probably explains the high walls that surround the cemetery. In the old days, they would have buried the bodies facedown to disorient them.”

“The things you know.”

I merely smiled as we continued down the path. When we reached the car, he turned to me again.

“I need to ask you something.”

I tensed, because it had been my experience that conversations beginning in such a manner rarely ended well. “Go on.”

“These nightmares you’re having. Do they have anything to do with what happened last fall?”

A lot of things had happened last fall. I’d been targeted by an evil presence in the little town where I’d been born, and upon my return to Charleston, a powerful witch doctor had stalked me through my dreams. But neither of those predators was responsible for my current distress.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I know something’s bothering you. Even before the break-in, you were having trouble sleeping. I thought it was because of this cemetery, because of what happened here, but now I’m not so sure. Amelia...” He paused. “If you felt threatened in any way, you’d come to me, wouldn’t you?”