Darkest Journey (Krewe of Hunters #20)(45)

“Was anyone besides his dad living at the place when he left for the semester?”

“No, there’s a staff there during the day, but that’s it. Hickory Plantation isn’t that big, remember. They do tours, but they don’t take overnight guests. The family keeps the upstairs for themselves. People come to do Rosedown Plantation and the Myrtles, then find Hickory once they’re here. It hasn’t been featured on every ghost show on TV, for one thing. Not that I don’t think it’s as historically interesting. It just doesn’t have the same hype. In any case, they’ve always closed up at five o’clock sharp. The day Hickory was murdered, the cleaning staff and the last guide went home shortly after they saw him leave, wearing his uniform. No one there knows anything about where he went.”

“I’d like to take a drive out anyway,” Ethan said, then heard his phone beep and glanced down at it. Chance had texted earlier to say he was finally in the process of emailing the photos after a computer crash had caused an unexpected delay. “Chance Morgan is sending me some photos, but the files are pretty large. Can I bring them up on one of the computers here?”

“Of course.”

“So we’ll take half an hour or so, drive out to the Hickory Plantation, then come back and look at photos.”

Randy shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you want. You know, we’re not totally incompetent. I did talk to the plantation staff, and I didn’t just take Farrell’s son at his word. I went through the kid’s phone and his iPad.”

“I’m sure you did. But—”

“But we’re all grasping at whatever we can,” Randy said. “I know. I’m doing it, too. But what do you think you’re going to find?”

“I have no idea,” Ethan told him. “But I’m willing to try anything. I’m also working the cruise angle, looking at the reenactment on the Journey. I need to talk to the locals who were working as extras that day.”

Randy grinned at him. “I had my men talk to each and every one of them.”

Ethan hesitated. “What about Todd and Nancy Camp?” he asked.

Randy sighed. “Them, too. But they were out of town when Corley’s murder took place, at a funeral in Gainesville, Florida. And, yes, I checked that out. Todd’s grandmother died. And since the one thing we do know is that we’re looking at a single killer, that rules them out. I can see how, given the past, you might want to look at the two of them. We’ve all been jerks at times. But being a jerk doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“No, being a jerk doesn’t make you a murderer. But it doesn’t make you innocent, either.”

“But an ironclad alibi does,” Randy said.

Ethan had to agree. “Okay, let’s check out the Hickory Plantation. Because something has to lead us somewhere.”

*

Before they headed to the set, Jude changed into something more casual. But when they went out to the car, Charlie had to wonder if—like dark suits—dark SUVs really were the FBI’s vehicles of choice. Jude’s rental was pretty much the twin of Ethan’s.

On set, Jude stayed close by the entire time she worked with Brad, Jimmy and Grant, taking some extra shots for the scene after the ghosts took care of the men who had been trying to silence her.

During a break, she walked with him to the church, and they wandered among the unhallowed graves.

“You won’t read about this in the guidebooks,” Charlie said. “These graves are unhallowed. You wound up here if you killed yourself or were especially bad. My dad knows all about this stuff.”

“I understand your dad’s quite the historian. What about you?”

“I love it, but I don’t know it like he does,” Charlie said, then fell silent as, between where they were standing and the church, she saw her Confederate cavalry commander slowly appear.

“He’s here,” she said quietly.

“Who?”

“The ghost of Anson McKee.”

Jude looked in the direction she indicated. Once again, the ghost was pointing to the river.

“I see,” Jude said softly.

Charlie looked at him and realized he not only saw Anson McKee, he saw what the ghost was trying to tell them, as well.

He wanted them to go to the river.

Charlie nodded. “We need to get to the Journey,” she said quietly.

McKee seemed pleased and slowly disappeared.

“Charlie! We’re ready for you!” Brad called, his voice reedy, as the breeze carried it away. “Let’s get going so we can get you out of here on time.”

“Coming!” she called back.

“Amazing,” Jude said.

“That you saw a ghost?” she asked. “I thought you were used to that.”

He looked at her and smiled. “No, not seeing a ghost,” he told her. “The resemblance. Throw a long-haired wig on Ethan, and that could be him.”

*

Farrell Hickory had done a good job with the plantation.

The private quarters upstairs were comfortable and well cared for, and the public sections had been perfectly preserved for those who wanted to visit a smaller plantation. Those who wanted grandeur usually started with Oak Alley, San Francisco or Rosedown, or, in this immediate area, the Myrtles. They were all interesting and historically accurate, and as different from each other as the planters who had owned them.