The Betrayed (Krewe of Hunters) (20 page)

He came toward her, real and yet not real in the moonlight. “You see me, yet you are living,” he said. “You see me clearly, do you not? Do you hear me, too?”

She nodded. “You were watching me the other night.”

“You reminded me of someone.”

“Was her name Elizabeth Hampton?” Mo asked.

He bent his head to one side in surprise. “You know her?”

“No, but I’ve read about her.”

He smiled poignantly. “She’s not here,” he said. “I look for her... But I in all my searching, all my watching, I have not found her. My dearest love...”

“I don’t know her, but I’ve heard the legend of the Woman in White since I was a child. Elizabeth may be the Woman in White—and if she is, she’s somewhere in the area,” Mo said. “Do you know where Elizabeth Hampton’s buried?” Mo asked.

He stiffened and seemed to be in pain. Not angry with her, just in pain.

“I know I am buried in Westminster Abbey, far from here. In the country to which I gave my loyalty and my all. It astonishes me to see that the country I fought and died for and this new nation are now the best of friends and allies. Of course, it has been...” He shook his head. “One does lose track of time.” He stopped speaking to give her a slow smile. “I’ve seen many people look twice or shiver when I am near. But it’s been a long, long time since I’ve spoken with the living.”

She smiled back. “And I’ve heard about your being here, in spirit, all my life. I’m pleased to finally meet you. And I desperately need your help. People have been killed, cruelly killed. And the one man who died left a message that said
Lizzie grave.
Do you know what that could mean? Do you think it could refer to your Lizzie?”

“Perhaps it does. Although I cannot explain why. I need your help, too,” he added. “If you can see the dead, will you look for my Lizzie...out there, somewhere?”

“I will. Can you tell me where to start?”

“Tappan,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“Tappan, in this place, now the state of New York. It was where I was hanged. Perhaps she lingers there.”

Mo nodded.

“And perhaps it is not my Lizzie’s grave that your friend was seeking. Perhaps it was my daughter’s.”

“
What?
Major Andre—”

“My name is John, my dear. And among friends, that is how I am known. Neither patriot nor redcoat. Just John.”

“According to the historical record, sir, you left neither children nor a wife.”

“She was with child,” he said. “I saw this, although she did not see me. I did not see her murder. I learned of her death. I watched our daughter grow in the home of gentle people who loved a child and saw her not as a rebel or a traitor, but as a child. When my Lizzie was killed and betrayed by those who should have loved her, my daughter was raised in gentle company.”

“And she died here?” Mo asked.

He didn’t answer her. There was a sudden commotion—the first group of visitors for the night was coming through.

“Wow! She’s good!” A female voice whispered with fear and awe. “You’d swear that Woman in White was talking to another ghost!”

“It’s okay,” a masculine voice returned. “Just a special effect!”

Major John Andre faded. Mo put on her deadpan expression and made her first circle around “her” mausoleum.

It was a long night. She kept an eye out for Major Andre as it went on.

He did not reappear.

* * *

With Van Camp and Voorhaven at the hotel watching the cameras, Aidan felt free to make use of his entire Krewe. They drove out to the convention center.

Aidan walked them through what he knew of the events of the day, showing Will, Logan, Jane and Sloan where each person had claimed to be when Richard was last seen.

“Was Bari Macaby certain she heard someone answer her from the restroom?” Logan asked.

“She’s convinced she heard someone, yes,” Aidan said. “And assumed it was Richard.”

“Let’s play it out. I’ll be Jillian. I was supposedly here—and then onstage with the sound people,” Jane said.

“I’ll take Taylor Branch,” Sloan offered. “And, Aidan, you should be Richard Highsmith. You knew him. You can never tell when something you know about a person might kick in,” Logan said.

“That means Will or Logan gets to be Bari Macaby,” Jane told him, grinning.

“I’ll be Bari,” Logan said. “Will can supervise and make sure we’ll all where we—or rather, they—claimed to be.”

“We’ll go through it once with the assumption that Jillian was involved, and once assuming it was Taylor Branch. We’ll even do a version figuring that Bari Macaby might have been the one,” Aidan said.

As planned, they began going through the scenario three times.

“All right,” Aidan eventually said. “Let’s see if this works. Richard, Taylor and Jillian are all in the greenroom. Bari stops by to see what Richard would like to eat. As soon as she’s gone, either Taylor or Jillian leaves the room. He’s left with just one of them. Say the accomplice arrived by a delivery truck. Bari would be in the kitchen then, arranging for the snack Richard requested. That would leave one of them several minutes with Richard—either to knock him out and carry him, or trick him into accompanying him or her.”

“Via Bari’s emergency exit to her secret smoking nook,” Jane said.

“I think he was tricked into going out with whomever,” Aidan said thoughtfully. “It would be easier to get him out if he was moving under his own steam, voluntarily. He wasn’t a small man. He was fit and well-muscled. So let’s go with the scenario that he was tricked. But if the person in question knew everyone else’s timing, he could conceivably knock him out, throw him over a shoulder and carry him out.” He paused. “That does suggest a man rather than a woman.”

“But there’s an alarm on the door,” Sloan pointed out.

“And the code number to bypass the alarm is 5421,” Aidan said dryly. “Anyone could have gotten that code. I was with Bari Macaby when she used it. Not hard to watch someone and memorize a four-digit code.”

“Maybe Richard was tricked into going outside. What would’ve made him do that?” Jane asked.

“The belief that he was needed,” Aidan said decisively.

“Let’s keep walking through this,” Logan suggested.

“Okay. Will, watch everyone. We’ll begin with the three of us in the greenroom,” Aidan said.

“So here we are, the three of us. And I’m Bari,” Logan murmured. “Mr. Highsmith, what would you like? Ah, yes, tea and some cheese and crackers. Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen.” They went through the motions twice. Both times it took Logan thirteen minutes to walk out of the room, make his way to the kitchen, wait three minutes for a tray to be set up, and return. In each simulation one or the other—Taylor or Jillian—had time to leave while the other urged ‘Richard’ out of the greenroom and down the hall to the emergency exit.

“Four minutes before Jillian had to be back in the stage area so she could be seen by everyone,” Jane noted.

“So, the moment Richard is outside, a vehicle’s ready to take him,” Jane mused. “Probably some kind of delivery truck. Someone, an accomplice, is there and either knocks him out and whisks him away or grabs his unconscious body and whisks that away.”

“And, of course,” Aidan said, “the way we’ve figured it...there are a few minutes in there where
anyone
might’ve gotten into the greenroom. If, that is, Taylor Branch and Jillian Durfey both prove to be innocent.”

“We’ll look into the security men and the sound-system people, and check out records related to every name that was collected when Highsmith disappeared,” Logan added.

Aidan nodded. “And we’ll need to find out who delivered what on the day of the murders.”

“I’ll get on that research immediately,” Jane said. “We’ll send the info to the home office on everyone questioned when Richard first disappeared.”

“We need more on Wendy Appleby, too. What was her real connection to Richard?” Aidan asked.

“That could be the key,” Logan agreed.

“I’ll trace her history. And as for other possible candidates who were in this building, I can cross-reference names with any possible political tie-ins,” Will said.

“Concentrate on what you can learn about Bari Macaby,” Logan told him. “Make sure she’s exactly who she says she is.” He turned to Aidan. “It would help, of course, if we had some contact with one of the deceased.”

Aidan took a deep breath, trying not to feel the usual knot in his stomach that came up whenever the situation—or their discussion—had to do with the living seeing the dead.

“Okay,” he began. “You’re all part of this experienced special unit. And I’m not completely sure why I was called in. Apparently you all have what it takes to be Krewe, and I’m not convinced that I do. Not anymore. If I ever did.”

Logan studied him. “You’ve got something. Jackson Crow wouldn’t have asked you to join the New York office if he hadn’t seen that skill in you. We’ll do our best, but you knew Highsmith, and that makes a difference.”

Aidan couldn’t remember if he’d ever mentioned to any of the Krewe that he’d known Richard.

But they had so much reference material available to them...

Of course they knew. They knew everything about him. Maybe even the kind of shirts he bought or his favorite brand of toothpaste.

And hadn’t he been asking Mo Deauville to do what
he knew
could be done?

“I haven’t made contact with Richard in any way,” he said quietly.

“Maybe, you will soon,” Logan said, just as quietly.

* * *

Mo was surprised to find Aidan Mahoney outside the emergency room entrance when she and Grace arrived to pick up Rollo once they’d had finished for the night.

“He’s here!” Grace said in a loud whisper. She looked at Mo. “He’s here—for you. He’s got the dog.”

“No, he’s not here for me. He’s here because he checked on J.J. after doing...whatever he did tonight. And he was nice enough to bring Rollo down for us.”

“You’re pathetic,” Grace muttered.

Maybe he did have an interest in her. He was ever hopeful that she’d contact Richard.

She
had
contacted him.

She was happy to oblige in any way she could; she’d do anything to help.

She and Grace got out of the car and walked over to the hospital. Grace was obviously amused, certain that someone was about to get lucky.

“Good evening, ladies,” Aidan said. Rollo wagged his tail ecstatically.

“Good evening, Agent Mahoney!” Grace returned. “Nice to see you again.”

“I wanted to check on things,” Aidan said. “And...well, I figured it was so late, I’d bring Rollo down for a bathroom break and have him out here when you came by.”

Rollo barked, apparently agreeing with that explanation.

“Thanks,” Grace said. “And since you’re here...” She paused and smiled like some kind of matchmaker. “You can drop Rollo and Mo off. I’m much closer to the hospital and that way I won’t have to double back. And you two can talk about...finding people and stuff like that.”

Mo didn’t protest, although she was horrified by Grace’s broad grin and her unmistakable attempt to throw the two of them together. But Mo knew that if she said anything, she’d look like an idiot who didn’t care about making her friend drive around all night.

“That’s not a problem,” Aidan said. “I can easily drive them home.”

“Well, then, you two can see me safely to my car.” She turned toward the parking lot. “Agent Mahoney, have you taken part in any of our haunted happenings yet? You should come through the Haunted Mausoleum sometime. We’ve gotten rid of our headless horseman for the season,” she added somberly.

“Perhaps I will,” Aidan said.

Grace got into her car, revved the engine and bade them both good-night, still smiling secretively.

Aidan and Mo were left there to stare at each other.

“How was J.J.?” Mo asked.

“Fine. Or as fine as possible under the circumstances. They were going to release him tomorrow, but I’ve asked that he be kept another day.”

“Oh?”

“He’s safe at the hospital. Once he and Debbie are out of there...he’ll need round-the-clock protection.”

“But the killer had his chance to kill J.J. He didn’t.”

“He chose not to strangle and behead a young boy,” Aidan said. “He left him in a vault deep in the earth. If J.J. had been there much longer, he would’ve died.”

“You think you can catch the killer overnight?”

“I wish. Well, let me drive you and Rollo home,” he said.

They walked to his car and Aidan opened the door for Rollo, then for her. When they’d driven for a few minutes, she felt the silence between them had grown uncomfortable. Awkward. “Is the investigation getting anywhere?” she asked him.

“We’re somewhere,” he told her. “I still believe someone in Richard’s retinue was involved, but it’s possible—though not plausible—that it was someone else, someone at the convention center. We know there had to be a connection between Richard and Wendy, although we haven’t established what it was. We strongly feel we’re looking for two people.” He glanced over at her as he drove. “And I still believe that
Lizzie grave
meant something, that it’s important to the case.”

Mo hesitated. “I think I may know a little more about that.”

“Oh?” He glanced her way again.

She stared straight ahead, realizing that her words might sound ridiculous. “I saw Major Andre tonight.”

“Major Andre?” he repeated. “You don’t mean as one of your characters at the Haunted Mausoleum, right?”

“No. I play the Woman in White. I thought I saw him the night before. But tonight, I...spoke with him.”

She waited for him to deny that was even possible. His wanting her to speak with Richard’s ghost was one thing. Her speaking with a Revolutionary spy might be quite another.

“What did he say? How could he help?” he asked.

“From the way he looked at me, I could tell that he thought he was seeing another ghost. Dressed up, I must have resembled his Lizzie—or Elizabeth Hampton. He’s been searching for her all these years. But, here’s something I hadn’t known. He told me Lizzie had a child—named Lizzie, or Elizabeth, too. He believes the words might refer to
her
grave.”