Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(2)

To others, she was a spellbinding curiosity.

And to this day, despite political controversy, she offered up a re-enactment of a long-ago skirmish during which, history had shown, it hadn’t been war or ideals, but the jealousy and cruelty of one man which had brought about the death of the most famous member of the family.

Captain Marshall Donegal.

He and his beloved wife had been the main ghosts of the great house for decades, though sightings of them had ebbed in the last few years.

Rumor—cruel rumor—had even stated that Emma Donegal had killed her husband, furious with him for his infidelities. Except that there hadn’t been any infidelities, and eventually, the truth had been proven.

Donegal Plantation was beautiful. It echoed the glory and the agony of history. Now a museum, it was often used as a guesthouse as well. But for the month of October, no rooms were rented out. It was simply too crazy a time.

And, at the moment, Donegal Plantation was “haunted.”

Not just in reality. But also commercially, for the Halloween season.

An early 1800s hearse sat in the sweeping drive. The striking white pillars at the entrance were draped in black. Menacing witches on broomsticks were hung here and there along the antebellum porch—along with ghosts, goblins, and evilly grinning jack-o’-lanterns.

Driving up to the house, Ashley Donegal smiled—and let out a sigh at the same time. Donegal Plantation was her home. She loved it—fiercely. She was proud of the property. They had a re-enactment each year of the Civil War skirmish that had been fought here. And they laid it all out for the truth of what had been.

The good that had occurred.

And the bad.

Her grandfather, Frazier, was still alive. And, with the help of his employees Beth and Cliff, he kept Donegal plantation going with tours and events—such as Halloween.

So it was right and good that she was now on this trip to plan her wedding to Jake Mallory. It was here—years ago—her ancestor’s death had been proven to be a murder, not just an act of war. And it was here where they had solved the murders that had taken place then.

The murders that had brought her and Jake back together again.

She had been in love with Jake as long as she could remember. But it hadn’t been until her father’s death that Jake, a member of an elite unit of the FBI, had come back.

And they had been together ever since.

What had caused them to take so long to marry, she wasn’t sure. Probably because it hadn’t really mattered. They were together. But recently, they’d talked family. And in talking family…a wedding seemed the thing to do.

And if they were going to have a wedding, it was going to be at Donegal Plantation.

Now, in between the crazy Halloween tours and everything else, she was going to meet with her grandfather and Beth and plan her wedding. Her mom, long gone now, had dreamed of such an event. Her father, also gone many years, had thought it would be a grand idea. The plantation would be the perfect venue. And they could put up just about everyone who would come, which would be the majority of the Krewe of Hunters—Jake’s very elite team. Those who could get away, because the office could never be empty. There was never a time when they weren’t needed, even though the “unit” had grown by leaps and bounds and there were now more than twenty-five special KOH agents.

Naturally, she and Jake came back for the re-enactment every year. At one time, Ashley had been prominent in the planning of the event—the vendors, the tents, the history chats by visiting professors, the players in the skirmish themselves. In more recent years she hadn’t been as involved, and she missed being part of the history and education of the times gone by. She was proud that, despite everything that had happened there, the plantation continued with its traditions.

And though their home was now in Alexandria, Virginia, due to the Krewe, Donegal Plantation—and her grandfather—remained a major part of their lives.





It was late when she arrived back home that night. She’d had a meeting with a professor in New Orleans who was going to take part next year in the re-enactment. She had been there for a few days already, but Jake had just flown in that afternoon.

She was anxious to see him, but before she went in, she paused to survey the house and grounds. They kept floodlights on by the door, and she could see the sweep of the lawn stretching ahead of her between the main house and the stable entrance. She thought, looking at the beauty of the surrounding oaks and the cemetery, they would have the reception out on the lawn, with the wedding inside, in the grand foyer. Her grandfather could walk her down the sweeping stairway and give her away.

It would all be just as her parents had envisioned long ago.

She hurried up the stairs and could already hear Jake in the kitchen, speaking with Beth Reardon, who managed the house. She glanced in quickly. Jake was talking security features and didn’t notice her presence.

Ashley slipped by and hurried into her room. She and Jake had been apart less than a week, and she was feeling excited–and a bit mischievous—now that he’d arrived.

She quickly showered, dried off, and donned one of her favorite robes.

Silk.

Soft as a whisper against her flesh.

In just seconds, Jake came into her bedroom.

He’d been an amazing boy—eight years old to her five—when they’d first met. Their parents had been friends.