Chapter Five

The great ballroom of Weeping Willow flickered with the light of candles and kerosene lamps. Guests carried emergency tapers in holders fashioned of aluminum foil with a few flashlights sprinkled among them. Most thought the power outage added to the atmosphere of the Halloween party. No one wanted to brave the downpour to head for home. Not as long as the champagne punch and food held out, anyway.

Shrieks and laughter rang out as those in costume took the opportunity to jump from the shadows to frighten the unsuspecting. Games of hide-and-seek and catch-a-kiss broke out among other guests. The party continued, more raucous than before, as the storm raged outside.

A shrill, piercing scream rent the air, heard above every other noise. Everyone froze at the terrifying sound. Gray appeared out of the darkness and tried to calm his guests.

"A maid probably saw a ghost," he soothed with a forced chuckle. "Ladies, please remain here. I need a few men with lights." He rushed off toward the source of the scream, several men accompanying him.

As they reached the left wing and neared the door of the study, the young maid in the French outfit rushed toward them. One hand covered her mouth, tears streamed down her pale face.

Gray caught her by the shoulders forcing her to look at him. "Ally, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Greg...in there. I think—" She shuddered. "I think he's dead—" She waved toward the study door with one hand. Ally clutched Gray's lapel with her other hand, leaving a bloody smear. She stared at the blood in the flashlight glow and whimpered. Her knees gave way and she sagged against Gray.

"John, take care of her." Gray passed the maid off to the man behind him and hurried into the study. "Men, we need those lights in here," he insisted.

Several flashlights and flickering candles moved forward to reveal a grisly scene. Gregory lay on his stomach on the hardwood floor, his head turned toward the door, eyes open and staring. His right arm, awkwardly bent, reached behind him toward the silver-handled knife sticking from his back. Blood pooled beside him. A huge splotch colored a section of his white shirt a vivid scarlet, revealed by his skewed tuxedo jacket.

A hand stayed Gray's movement toward his son. "You can't help him anymore, Gray. Don't touch anything. This is a crime scene. I'll call the local authorities." The lieutenant governor ushered the men from the room and chose two of them to stand guard at the study door until the police arrived.