Sean rested a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t protect everyone who ever walked into the Tarleton-Dandridge House,” he said.
Tyler couldn’t shake his anger with himself. “I should have known. Hell, someone called him three times, and he felt enough anxiety to head out. He said no one knew where he was going except for his daughter, but…this person knows the area, Sean. This is someone who’s read everything that’s been written about the house. The board and the other guides were aware that Allison was working on a paper—and that she’d studied what Standish wrote.”
“Tyler, quit beating yourself up. We couldn’t have known that Standish would be in danger. And it looks like you got to him in time,” Sean told him.
“Barely, and I don’t know if he’ll make it. He’s not a young man.”
“He’ll make it,” Sean said. “I can hear the sirens now.”
Allison stepped aside when the EMTs arrived with their medical bags and stretcher. She looked on as they set up an IV and took Standish’s vital signs.
“CPR?” one of the young men asked her.
“Yes, he wasn’t breathing at first.”
“Has he spoken?”
“Briefly.”
The EMTs didn’t care about voices or ghosts in the woods; their only concern was for the injured man.
“He was in the water?”
“Yes. Facedown. We don’t know how he got there, if he was injured, tripped—pushed. We don’t know,” Allison said.
She watched, stricken, while the team worked on Standish. Then one of them glanced up at her and smiled.
“I’m an EMT, not a doc. But I think he’s going to be okay. Thank God you came along when you did.”
She smiled back weakly.
It was a shame she’d ever contacted the man. She’d unwittingly put him in danger.
Sean and Tyler returned from the woods, their expressions grim, as Standish was placed on a stretcher. It was decided that Kelsey and Sean would go to the hospital and guard Martin Standish there. Logan seemed to think it was important that Allison be at the house.
She and Tyler waited, standing by the beautiful little bubbling stream, as the EMTs moved out. “It’s my fault,” Allison couldn’t help saying.
Tyler shook his head. “No. I was the fool,” he said harshly. “I should’ve had someone watching him from the minute we found out about the missing article.”
Allison was afraid that he felt his interest in her might be keeping him from making the best judgments.
“No,” she said, “you don’t understand. If I hadn’t gotten it into my head to publish another paper on the house, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“Allison, it’s no one else’s fault when someone commits murder. It’s the work of the bastard who believes his life or agenda is greater than the lives of anyone else. And I don’t think the killing started with your paper. I think it started before. Obviously, no one living now was responsible for the death of a Civil War soldier or the suicide of a distraught young woman—things that took place years ago—but as to the kid who was electrocuted, and the guide who had a heart attack in Angus’s study…I think we may be looking at the same perpetrator.” He turned away suddenly, and she realized he’d heard movement from the trees.
“Crime scene techs are here,” he said. He walked away to greet the team, and she could hear him explaining the situation succinctly, including a chronicle of the actions they’d taken since they’d come.
Allison walked closer to the stream. She stared down at the water. It seemed to glitter. As the water skipped over pebbles and rocks, it reflected rays of sunshine, which shone like scattered diamonds.
Something caught her eye and she cried out.
Tyler spun around, his face anxious.
“I see Standish’s rifle,” she said. “There—it looks as if he threw it. As if he was hit from behind, and then threw it.”
Tyler and the crew of techs walked over to her.
“Good eye,” one of the techs said.
He sloshed through the stream to collect the rifle and then glanced at Tyler. “We’ll comb this part of the woods,” he said. “We’ll get back to you with anything we have, down to gum wrappers if there are any.”
Tyler thanked him, then led Allison back through the woods to his car, parked in front of the cabin. “Let’s get back to Philly,” he said.
She was hesitant as they drove. “Tyler, maybe I should go away. People around me, even people I hardly know, seem to wind up dead or in the hospital.”
“What? Go back to your house? No. Don’t you see, Allison? That would mean one or two of us having to patrol your house to make sure no one’s figured out a way to break in. Besides, you’ve been around all these people for years. Any one of our suspects could have a key.”
“I meant fly away somewhere,” she said.
“If that would keep you safe, I’d have you do it in a second. But this person is a step ahead. He’d find you, Allison. He’d go after you. He found Standish.”
“I just feel that…”
He reached out, squeezing her hand. “Yeah, I know,” he said huskily. “But we need you where you are. I need you with me—where I know I can keep you safe.”
She smiled at that. “I like being…safe,” she told him. “But I can’t stop feeling that I’m a catalyst for others being hurt. And killed.”
“What will solve this is finding out the who. That will prevent more people from being hurt or killed. I think we’re just about onto the why. Our killer knows that, and it’s making him desperate. And when a killer gets desperate, he gets careless.”
She leaned back in the passenger seat, closing her eyes.
When they were a little more than halfway back to the city, Tyler’s phone rang. He asked her to pick it up.
It was Sean, and she put the phone on speaker.
They both listened as Sean told them that Martin Standish was going to make it. “He’s conscious again and clear in his mind. He was knocked out by a massive blow to the head. He would have drowned if you two hadn’t come along when you did.”
“I’m so thankful we did,” Allison said.
“He’s going to have some tests done because it was a pretty nasty blow,” Sean continued. “He says he heard voices calling to him from the woods. At first he was afraid it might have been his daughter, that she’d come up and gotten lost and was wandering through the woods. Then he heard voices that seemed to come from a number of directions. As if the woods were filled with ghosts. He heard another noise and got angry, so he followed it to the stream, thinking he’d be safe. The man is good with a shotgun, from what I’ve been told.”
“And then?” Tyler asked.
“The next thing he knew, he felt a sharp pain against his skull, and he fell into the water. That’s the last he remembered—until he felt Allison ‘kissing’ him,” Sean said.
Tyler smiled. “That must’ve been nice for him.”
“Yeah, the guy has quite a sense of humor for an old coot. You’re not going to believe this. He’s still in pain, but he seems happy now. He says someone’s finally paying attention to him, and he thinks his research is going to change history.”
“It will—but only in our small corner of the world,” Allison said.
“Anyway, Kelsey and I will hang out here,” Sean finished. “It’s not a huge hospital and their security is pretty flimsy. One of us will be in his room at all times. And could you look for that other painting?” he asked. “I know it exists.”
“We’ll do that,” Tyler promised.
When they reached the Tarleton-Dandridge, Kat was at the morgue, going through the autopsy reports on everyone who’d died at the house.
Jane and Logan were in the salon, where the antique dining table had been turned into a workstation. Julian was with them, trying to move a piece of paper.
He stood, relieved to see Allison. He tried to give her a hug.
She tried to hug him in return. With limited success.
Then she went to take a quick shower and Tyler planned to do the same as soon as she was out.
Logan listened to his report on what they’d discovered, then said he was going to keep searching through the records they’d amassed. “I think you should give Detective Jenson a call. The local police were going to keep tabs on Oxford, Addison, Pierson, Fanning and Lawrence.”
Tyler agreed and made the call. Jenson told him, “Oxford left his house in the ten minutes between my patrol car’s drive-by. Lawrence’s car hasn’t moved. No one’s seen anyone come or go from the Addison house. Pierson had a meeting at a bank downtown. He left his place about twenty minutes ago.” Jenson paused. “I’m not sure how much any of that will help you.”
Tyler thanked him, saying, “It helps.” He related everything about the trip he and Allison had taken to see Martin Standish and what had happened that morning.
“I can double the patrol,” Jenson said. “But it’s hard. We’re not allowed overtime with the current budget cuts.”
“We appreciate whatever you can do.”
It was growing late. Logan ordered food. When Allison was done with the shower, Tyler went in. The hot water felt wonderful; he hadn’t realized how cramped and stiff he was from getting soaked in the cold stream. Fortunately, the water stayed hot just long enough.... When he came out, he felt invigorated.
He knew Allison was with Logan and Jane. Logan was questioning her, once again, about the people she’d worked with at the house.
He went back to the entry and sat down at the bank of screens, rolling through the images quickly to watch the hours since they’d left.
Late in the middle of the night, Lucy Tarleton had appeared. She’d gone to the study and looked in, then hurried through the house to the back.
