The Night Is Forever (12 page)

“What would happen in the event of a natural catastrophe, like a flood?” Mason asked. “We did have that major one a few years back!”

“Okay, if something catastrophic were to happen or if the Horse Farm fell into such severe financial hardship that it couldn’t be maintained and your salaries couldn’t be paid, the property would revert to the actual estate. The land would go up for sale, and any profits would be distributed to a number of other charities. Do you all understand?” Fairchild asked, looking around at them.

They all nodded.

“Now let me go on with the individual items he’s left you.”

Olivia listened but his words blurred. Marcus had left them things that were special to him. A saddle and a desk to Drew, collectible books to Mariah, a sterling tea set to Sandra and other personal property to others. She heard her name again and looked up.

“What?”

Once more, they were all staring at her. “Another house,” Sandra said. “Nice.”

“What?”

“He left
you
his house and the immediate property around it,” Aaron told her with a smile. “You can now search it to your heart’s content.”

“You can tear it to pieces, if you choose,” Fairchild said. “The house is yours, free and clear.”

“The house,” she murmured. It should have gone to Aaron. But Aaron didn’t seem disturbed, didn’t seem to care.

Was it an act?

You bastard, Marcus! Why didn’t you warn me?

“And, of course, Shiloh,” Fairchild added. “He felt that you and the horse shared something unique. You’re free to keep Shiloh at the facility or build a barn at the house you’ve just inherited or on your own property. There’s a lot of fine print here—but that’s what it means.”

She nodded, grateful for his explanation. She wasn’t sure she needed another house—but she did love the horse!

“What about Homer?” she asked. “Yellow Dog as we sometimes call him.”

“What about him?”

“Deputy Vine asked if he could have him,” Olivia said.

Fairchild looked at his papers. “Rescue animals will continue to come and go from the facility as determined by those in charge. No animal will be put to death or set into the hands of those who would euthanize said animal or abuse it. Adoptions will be given due consideration by the entire staff and should continue with majority approval.”

“I say Deputy Vine gets Homer.” Aaron surveyed the room as he spoke. “Agreed?”

“Sure. One less mouth to feed at night—until one of us drags in another,” Drew said.

“Agreed,” Sydney chimed in.

“Hell, yeah!” Mariah said.

“Well, then, that’s it,” Fairchild told them. “My office is available to you. Anyone feeling any confusion is more than welcome to call me for clarification.” He paused a little awkwardly. “Marcus was my client. I didn’t know him that well. But he held each of you in high regard, I do know that. Naturally, none of us suspected he’d be leaving us quite so soon, but...you should be aware how valued and appreciated you all were in his eyes.” He looked at each of them in turn and then at Aaron. “Well, then, I’ll be on my way.”

When he’d departed, Drew and Sydney stood, leaving to attend to their duties. Mason got to his feet, too, and was out the door before the women had even managed to rise.

When the door closed behind him, they were all silent. “Well,” Aaron said brusquely, “that’s it. We start up again right after lunch, so if you want a break, take it now. Thank you all for being here on time, and...” He sighed. “That’s it,” he repeated. “The will’s been read, the die is cast, Marcus is gone. We carry on.”

Looking over at Aaron, who stood near his office door, Olivia shivered.

Aaron frowned at her. “Olivia?”

“Sorry. I just got a strange feeling. Someone walking on my grave, or whatever that saying is.”

“It’s all right,” Aaron said gently. “We all have to get back to normal. We have a legacy to live up to, but Marcus
is
gone.”

She nodded.

Except that Marcus wasn’t gone at all. He was leaning against the doorway of Aaron’s office, arms crossed, grinning as he watched the proceedings.

He smiled at her and then seemed to fade into the wall.

Was he just letting her know he was around, watching?

Ever hopeful that he’d see or hear something that would help catch his killer?

6

“T
he one-eyed Persian is Oscar. The old ginger boy sound asleep in the hayloft in Trickster’s stall is Orange Cat. You’ll see about a dozen of them running around, going into and out of the office,” Drew told Dustin. “Marcus was a sucker for just about anything that had a heartbeat, so you’ll see cats, dogs and a few other pets an owner brought home and then tossed. Horses, needless to say. If you see a cat you like or a pup, just talk to Aaron. We’re continuing with the policy of bring ’em in—and if you find a good home, let ’em go.”

Dustin had just admired one of the massive cats keeping “rat guard” in the stables. Now he knew the feline’s name was Orange Cat. Not imaginative, but certainly fitting.

“It’s a wonderful policy,” he said. Drew didn’t seem to mind that Dustin was there and had been for about forty-five minutes. He’d helped bring some of the horses in from pasture and brushed them down. Mariah had an individual therapy session coming up and Mason was taking out a new group.

He’d been scheduled for a ride with Olivia—but not alone. Apparently, because of the time lost that morning, Joey Walters was going to be with them. Which was fine; he liked Joey.

After breakfast at the café, Dustin had spent a few hours on his computer and done some fact-checking with the office back in Virginia. He’d read bios on everyone here over and over again. Nothing stood out. No history of mental illness, much less homicidal tendencies. Before coming to the Horse Farm, Sandra Cheever had worked for a medical office, arranging schedules and dealing with patients for a group of psychiatrists; she’d left only because Aaron had lured her away. She’d never received even a parking ticket. Mason Garlano had been working at a physical rehab center until he followed his girlfriend to Nashville. They had since broken up, but the girlfriend was alive and well and working as a sound technician for a studio in Nashville. Andrew Dicksen had moved to the Nashville area from Biloxi, Mississippi, with his family when he’d been ten. He’d done the rodeo circuit until his thirtieth birthday when a fall from a bull had damaged his collarbone; he’d known Marcus, and Marcus had offered him the job. Aaron Bentley had been a college student studying toward a business degree and working at a hack ranch when he’d met Marcus, who’d hired him. That had been twenty years ago. Both Sydney Roux and Mariah Naughton were from the area, and had lived there all their lives. Sydney had been arrested once in college for protesting a military action. Not one of them had a history of violence, theft, drug abuse or any other ill-doing that might have raised a pale pink flag, never mind a red one.

And still, Dustin was convinced that Marcus had been murdered and by someone close, someone who knew him well. That meant—as he’d assumed earlier—that there had to have been a motive, a secret agenda, since no fight had broken out. He hadn’t been killed in a fit of anger. His murder had been carefully calculated to look like an accidental death.

Official records were helpful, but they didn’t say much that was personal about anyone. Dustin was grateful for social media; he looked up every form of internet page or link he could for each of his suspects. Apparently, Drew had yet to enter the media age. He had a Facebook page but never posted. Mariah, on the other hand, loved her page—and used it, of course, to promote the ghost tours she did twice a month. Sandra Cheever used hers to communicate with family in New York. Mason kept up with friends in Texas—and made social arrangements with his friends in Nashville. Sydney Roux posted a lot of pictures of the animals at the Horse Farm. He took good pictures and made it clear that the puppies and kittens who wound up there were available for adoption to good homes. Aaron only had a professional page that led back directly to the Horse Farm.

He found himself looking up Olivia’s Facebook page, as well; she, too, liked to post pictures of the adoptable animals at the Horse Farm but she also mentioned social events and proudly posted beautiful pictures that showed off the grace and beauty of Tennessee.

He could spend his life on the computer, but it was nothing compared to actually spending time with people, face-to-face. He’d discovered he liked Drew; he really hoped the man wasn’t hiding some kind of dark secret. One thing the academy had taught him was that you could never be too careful—it was dangerous to trust a friendly face. Some of the nation’s most heinous serial killers had actually been charming when not slicing or strangling their victims.

“Did you ever meet Marcus?” Andrew asked him, hoisting a saddle onto Shiloh.

“No, I never did.”

“But you’re from the area?”

“From the city, originally,” Dustin said.

“Nashville’s the best city in the world, but I love these rolling hills out here,” Drew told him. He shrugged. “I guess even though it’s small in comparison to New York, Atlanta or Chicago, Nashville’s actually pretty big. Folks could wander around for years and never meet one another. Out here, we do.” He grinned. “And regardless of how long I’ve lived in the state, I’ll never be a real homeboy to people who are from here—like Mariah or Sydney. They can trace their families back for generations. But Olivia used to come out here all the time with her parents, and I know she and Mariah never met.” He shrugged. “A lot of life is an accident of timing, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Dustin said. “It’s easy to go through life not knowing everyone—even in a small town, let alone a big city,” he added wryly.

“That’s true enough.” Drew grinned. “Listen, thanks for the help.”

“Not a problem. I love horses,” Dustin said. “And cats—and dogs.”

“Plenty around here,” Andrew said. “In fact, you really would be a good candidate to take home a pup or a kitten.”

“I wish I was. I’m never in one place long enough to be a good owner.”

“Because of your work.”

“I’m a field agent. That means going out in the field.”

“Yeah, well, takes a good man to know when he can’t have an animal, too. That’s the problem, people picking up cute kittens or pups and not realizing the little critters are going to get big. So they dump them. Or the dog messes in the house. Or they get the pet and then have kids and forget they have the pet. But all the animals lucky enough to come here, well, they’ll still be taken care of.”

“No surprises in the will, huh?” Dustin asked.

Drew shook his head, adjusting the saddle on Shiloh. “Not really. Oh, yeah, there was one. Marcus left his home and the property it’s on to Olivia.”

“That was a surprise, then?”

“We thought it would go to Aaron. Aaron loves this place and manages it really well. It would’ve been easy for him to live there, and go back and forth to the Horse Farm.”

“Actually, couldn’t he just live here if he chose? You and Sydney do, right?”

“Yeah, but...we’re not management types. We keep our places pretty nice, but hey...this is a stable, and it smells like a stable. But...”

“I’m sure your living arrangements are fine,” Dustin said. “So where does Aaron live now?”

“Oh, he rents a house down the road. He should’ve bought a house when the buying was good. Guess he figured maybe he didn’t have to,” Drew said with another shrug. “I doubt it’s a problem. The Horse Farm being nonprofit doesn’t mean he doesn’t get a nice salary.”

“What about you guys?” Dustin asked.

Andrew laughed. “I like my life just fine. I have a comfortable place to lay my head at night. I love my work. I enjoy working with kids. I wake up every morning to fresh air and beautiful country. No rush hour. Yeah, I’m pretty happy with my life.”

“Good to hear,” Dustin said.

He saw that Olivia was coming out of the office. He’d gotten a brief text from her, saying that she planned to stay at the office where there’d be several people around until her afternoon sessions.

But now she was headed his way. “Hi, Dustin. And thanks, Andrew.” She patted Shiloh’s neck. “I could have saddled him.”

“I get restless with nothing to do,” Andrew told her. “So, things have changed a bit. Are you going to keep Shiloh here? Or do you plan on building a barn?”

“I’m here most of the time, and you and Sydney are always here,” she said. “I’m happier having him stabled where someone’s on duty 24/7.”

“That makes sense.” Andrew looked at Dustin. “You never know with a horse. I had some friends who lost two of their horses a few years back. No one was home. Somehow a pasture gate was left open. The horses got onto the road and were hit by a semi and they had to be put down. You just never know.”

“Have you seen Joey yet?” Olivia asked.

“On his way right now,” Dustin said.

Joey had been let out of a van that had the words Parsonage House written in script on the side. Two other boys stepped out—Matt and Sean, Dustin saw. They headed into the office, while Joey walked toward them, smiling.

“We get to ride today, right?” he asked Olivia. “Oh, hello, Dustin, Drew.”

“We’re still riding today,” Olivia said. “Joey, I have you on Trickster, and Andrew, I see you’ve gotten Chapparal saddled. He’ll be perfect for Dustin, unless he was saddled for someone else?”

“He’s all yours. In fact, Dustin brought him in. He’s been here helping me.”

“Thanks.” Olivia nodded. “Well, then, shall we?”

Ten minutes later, they were mounted and striking out beyond the pastures. The hills rose and fell until they reached a stretch of relatively flat land. Olivia said, “Okay, Joey, we’ll run them for a minute here, but we’re not racing. Remember that everything we’ve learned about trust and boundaries works when you’re riding, too. Don’t let Trickster take you. You’re taking her.”

Joey nodded, flushing with pleasure. Olivia glanced at him and Dustin nodded; she was going to head out first. He’d bring up the rear.

It wasn’t a wild ride. It was a pleasant canter and then a brief gallop across the flat land. Olivia reined in first, waiting for the other two. Joey slipped sideways when Trickster reverted to a trot, but he gripped the horn of his western saddle for a moment, regaining his balance. He beamed at Olivia.

“We’re doing okay,” he said.

Olivia smiled at him but her smile faded. Dustin saw that she was gazing past Joey—back up to the hill that rose between them and the Horse Farm.

He followed her line of vision. The sun was high; it seemed to cast shadows on the mound.

But Dustin saw someone there.

There, but not
really
there.

The image of a tall rider sitting proudly on a great steed gradually appeared. He wore a plumed hat and the gray-caped dress-coat of a Confederate general. Dustin thought he lifted a hand, almost as if in warning. Then the sun blazed brightly, coming from behind a white cloud, and the general was gone.

“Hey, Liv, you’re coming on the camping trip tomorrow night, aren’t you?” Joey said, unaware.

“Pardon?” Olivia brought her attention back to the boy.

“The camping trip. You’re coming, right?”

“Uh, yes. I suppose so,” Olivia said.

“And you’re coming, too,” Joey looked at Dustin. “You said you would.”

“Yes, sounds like fun. I used to go on camping trips around here years ago,” Dustin told him.

“Mariah’s going to tell ghost stories,” Joey said.

“She’s good at talking about history, too,” Olivia added a little sharply.

“Yes, but you can only have a ghost if you have the history of someone who lived,” Joey said reasonably.

“Yes, of course, but...history is important, Joey,” Olivia said. “There was a famous philosopher named George Santayana who explained why it’s so important to understand history. His words are often quoted. ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ We need to learn from all the things that came before. It’s a good thing that we remember the American Civil War—especially when we see politics get heated today. Tennessee was the last state to secede from the Union, and the people were split on their beliefs throughout the war. East Tennessee actually tried to secede from Tennessee when it left the Union, but troops were sent in. The state was truly divided. The east was for the North, the west for the South—and the middle of the state cast the deciding ballot. It was horribly sad and tragic here. Only the state of Virginia saw more battles. The Battle of Shiloh was, at the time, the bloodiest in the nation’s history. But we learned from the war, Joey.”

“In many ways,” Dustin murmured.

Joey turned to face him, “Yeah, I know,” he said dryly. “My dad told me they still study Civil War strategy. Like today, you wouldn’t fight the same—we have automatic weapons and bombs and drones and stuff. But the military today can still learn from the strategies they used back then.”

“We also learned about compromise and holding a country together,” Dustin said, hoping he didn’t sound too much as though he was lecturing. “It’s easy to be harsh now when we look at the past. Sometimes you have to wonder what the hell were they thinking, and you have to try to understand the context and the reasons—and the mistakes. That’s history, and that’s why it’s important.”

“And why we get ghosts!” Joey threw in cheerfully.

“But ghosts are good, too,” Olivia said. “For instance, General Rufus Cunningham is a famous ghost around here, and he tells us a lot about humanity. He was a leader, but he didn’t consider any of his men expendable. And he valued human life even when that life belonged to the enemy.”

“Yeah, and he died. ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’” Joey blurted out, grinning.

Olivia groaned. “Oh, I give up!”

“Kidding, just kidding!” Joey said. “I love the stories about the general. Are we going to ride? Or are we going to just sit here?”

“We’ll take the forest trail to the curve, come back around and let them run again for a few minutes. It’s beautiful riding through the trees,” Olivia said.

She led the way. Trickster tried to stop for grass, but Olivia reminded Joey that the horse shouldn’t be calling the shots; he could give Trickster an apple back at the stables. Joey regained control, grinning at her proudly as he did.

Olivia rode on, and the others followed. She reined in at a copse, and they paused behind her. A doe and her young fawn were nibbling on short grasses near the edge, barely visible beneath the canopy of the trees.