“Ah,” she said. “It’s strange to think that you have your own property. You seem so much a part of Melody House.”
“It’s easy to become a part of Melody House,” Carter said. “There’s something about that old sense of Southern hospitality here. And it’s true, I’ve been around a heck of a long time. I like Stoneyville.”
“And Delilah Dey?” Darcy teased.
He shrugged, smiling. “She’s darned cute. She’s not you, of course, but I knew right off that you were a loss. Matt beat me out, again.”
She shook her head. “Carter, I can’t see where you feel you have any problems in life. From what Penny says, you’ve had a major run of love affairs.”
“But the right one hasn’t come along,” he said.
“That’s hard in life for everyone, huh?”
“Um.” He leaned against the wood, studying her. “People can be so deceptive, as well. Take Lavinia—Matt’s ex. She was stunning, sophisticated, and sweet as molasses when she first arrived. She was down with friends to do some antique hunting, met Penny in town, and Penny dragged her here for a ghost tour. Lavinia met Matt, and suddenly, she wasn’t leaving. Lord, but they were gorgeous together. Then she turned into the Witch of the West, thinking Matt could drop anything at any time, and take off with her. All he had to do was be polite to another woman, and Lavinia went into a tantrum. They were something, though. Hot as fire one minute, ready to kill one another the next. Funny, though, right after the divorce, it seemed they’d become friends. But now…hell, we haven’t heard from her in years. Strange, she was going to come down to arrange some big financial social party here…but then she never did. And we never heard from her again.”
“Sometimes it’s best when the past is really behind us,” Darcy said with a shrug.
“Don’t worry, you’re nothing like her, not really,” Carter said, rubbing his beard, and studying her with an amused smile.
“I wasn’t worried.”
“You do have her hair.”
“Hey—there are lots of redheads in the world.”
“She was tall and elegant, too.”
“But I’m not a socialite, by any stretch of the imagination,” Darcy said. “And anyway…I like Matt. I like you all. But I live a strange life. And few people can really handle it.”
“You really can see what others can’t?” Carter asked.
“Carter, it’s impossible to explain. I don’t have a crystal ball. I can’t really conjure any visions. Sometimes I see, and sometimes, I don’t.”
He was silent, then said, “Darcy, I wish that you’d leave here.”
“Carter, I can’t believe that you’re not on my side!”
“I am on your side. I think you’re gorgeous and adorable, and you don’t really freak me out at all. But…I don’t know. I just don’t feel that you’re…safe here.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s just not a good place for redheads. Matt is a great guy, but…maybe he’s not good for you. And maybe Melody House does have some kind of evil in it, but since we don’t see it, we’re not hurt by it. And you may be.”
“Carter, please, I’m not afraid of ghosts.”
He turned to her, setting both hands on her shoulders. “Darcy, you’re a very brave young woman. Truly. Beautiful, assured, absolutely incredible. But Melody House…I have to say it. I really believe you should leave. Because…because you’ve become too involved, for one.”
“Too involved?” she echoed. He seemed so sincere, despite the fact that he had mocked the idea of ghosts so much himself.
“With Matt. Darcy, you can only get hurt,” Carter warned softly.
She nodded, and placed both her hands over his where they lay on her shoulders. She gave them a squeeze, then extricated herself from his hold.
“Thanks, Carter.”
“Don’t get me wrong—he is a great guy.”
“Just not for me, right?”
“There is that Lavinia thing,” Carter said. “Too bad you couldn’t have met her. But then, well, you know. She’s disappeared.”
“I’ll be fine, Carter. But thank you so much for caring.”
She turned to leave.
“Darcy!”
She turned back.
“I don’t mean this strangely, but…I love Matt. I think he’s basically one of the finest men I’ve ever met. I think you’re pretty great, too. And maybe…maybe this place just isn’t very good for you. Please, like I said…I just care about both of you.”
“Sure. Thanks, Carter.”
She left then, without him calling her back. The conversation had been very strange, and unnerving.
He’d talked in such a strange, roundabout way. Not that his words hadn’t been evident. Matt was his friend, his very good friend.
So…
If there was something wrong about Matt, he’d never come out and say so.
Just how loyal was he as a friend?
Had he been making implications that something had gone seriously wrong with Lavinia, even after the divorce?
That was too far beyond ridiculous. To suggest that Lavinia hadn’t been heard from—because something had happened to her!
And yet…
As she walked back to the house, she couldn’t help remembering the strange sensation she had felt the night before.
Passion…
And then violence.
Chapter 15
15
T he ceremony for the skull was sadly beautiful.
The minister’s name was Todd Bellamy, and he was a tall trim fellow with graying hair, and a voice that was clear, resonant, and soothing.
Despite the fact that the family had moved from the area eons ago, and the old family stones had eroded with time so that they were almost impossible to read, records had set the workers digging in the right area. Matt told them all that the original wooden coffin had decayed, and so the skull had been given its own twenty-first-century metal box, and would be lowered to join the bones at what would be approximately head level.
And so, as it was lowered into the ground, Reverend Bellamy said a prayer, and gave a small speech.
“May all the sins of the past find forgiveness, and as she sits in the warmth and glow of her maker, may Amy find the grace of forgiveness herself. Her time on this earth was brief and fragile, and stolen from her in the sadness of betrayal. In His grace, Amy must surely find peace, and in that peace, grant it to the one who so cruelly wronged her life. So it is that those who faced evil on earth will face the greatest rewards of Heaven, and there, surely, Amy has found her happiness and love. If you will all bow your heads…?”
Bellamy went into a series of prayers for the dead. Darcy bowed her head, but found herself looking around the cemetery.
It was a beautiful old place that was still attached to the church. There were majestic angels guarding tombs, while many of the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century headstones offered up grim carvings of death heads and grim reapers. By night, she was certain, the place would carry an ethereal atmosphere, and most people would certainly consider it eerie.
Even now, though it was a summer’s day, storm clouds were moving down from the mountains. When they had first arrived, the sun had lit the place, and it offered the historic charm that brought many to such churches and cemeteries.
Now, the darkening sky changed it to a brooding atmosphere, reminiscent of many a Hollywood horror film. Still, no one seemed to notice too much—those in this area were well accustomed to the old and historic.
With her head slightly bowed, Darcy felt a small twinge, noting that to her side, farther from the church, there was a canopy. A velvet liner remained beneath it, and chairs still surrounded an open grave.
The dead were still being interred in this cemetery.
Darcy found the idea traditional and charming.
“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes…” the reverend intoned.
Matt had planned the ceremony with determined haste, and so, the crowd was small. Naturally, the household was there. Sam, Clara, Penny, Carter, Clint, Matt, Adam, and herself. Delilah Dey had come, naturally representing the city council, Jason Johnstone had come—specifically at Matt’s invitation—and a tall, skinny fellow—an Ichabod Crane look-alike—who claimed to be a writer was there as well. Mae had come, delighted to be part of the event, and even Mrs. O’Hara had come from the library. There were a few people in attendance that Darcy didn’t recognize, but somehow, Matt had managed to keep it all very low key.
“Amen!” the reverend said. “Go in peace, and may the blessing of God be with you and yours.”
The ceremony was officially over. The last word had barely left the reverend’s lips before the Ichabod-man turned to Darcy.
“Miss Tremayne?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Max Aubry from the local paper. First of all, welcome to Stoneyville. We’re delighted to have you. It’s my understanding you found the skull. Would you mind talking to me for a few minutes?” he asked.
Darcy didn’t get a chance to answer. Clint was suddenly behind her like a bulldog, hazel eyes flashing. “Aubry, she minds.”
“What is this, the Stone kingdom?” Aubry said. “Clint, this is America. We’ve got freedom of the press here. Let the lady answer herself.”
“I can talk to him, Clint, I’ll be all right,” Darcy said.
“There, see? She wants to talk,” Aubry said.
Clint looked at Darcy, as if offering her a warning, but he lifted his arms, shrugged, turned and walked away.
“Darcy, dear!” Penny called. “We’re going to head down to the Wayside Inn for some lunch.”
“Go ahead, I’ll be along,” Darcy called. She saw that Matt and Adam were both talking to the minister; Carter had Delilah Dey by the arm and they were reading old tombstones.
