Epilogue

 

“What I want to know is how the hell did you find the opening to that secret passage in time?” I asked Seamus.

It was three o’clock in the morning, and we were spooned together in bed in the chauffeur’s quarters. We were not trying to sleep, though. Both of us were too wound up. Every light in the place was on.

The main house too was still ablaze, but it was empty—of anyone living, at least. Crime-scene tape roped off the drive, and sheriff deputies were posted at each entrance. Liana—I still had trouble thinking of her as Lacey—had been hospitalized for shock, Roma had, presumably, gone home to consult her Ouija board, and Aunt H. had left with Chief Kingsland.

Seamus kissed my shoulder. “I didn’t. I was waiting for Foxworth to arrive. I just followed him in.”

“You were here at the house the whole time?”

“No. After your message about interviewing Lenton’s wife, I busted my butt to get back here. When I saw him sneak across the drive and cut the phone lines, I knew you were right. Whatever was going to happen would happen tonight.”

I shivered, and his arms tightened. “Warm enough?”

I nodded. Had to clear my throat. “What you did tonight. That was…”

“A little theatrical?” he finished wryly.

I shook my head. “Brave. The bravest thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”

He grunted.

“And please don’t ever do it again.”

“Me? My heart stopped when I heard you ask him why he’d killed Tarrant.”

I admitted, “I got a little carried away in the heat of the moment.”

My head bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. “Anyway. All part of the job.” He added with elaborate casualness, “Although, for the record, there’s not a lot of death and danger in the Financial Crimes Unit. In case that’s a concern.”

I was following my own thoughts. “You didn’t think my suspicions of Reverend Ormston were a little far-fetched?”

“Yeah, I sort of did. I mean, at one point in this scheme he would have had to be appearing as both Reverend Harry Ormston and Ogden Hyde. Even if he was mostly interacting within two largely different social circles, it was still a huge risk.”

“One thing he never lacked was confidence.”

“That’s the truth.”

I wanted to thank him again. I wanted to ask him what his plans were and whether he would be returning to New York soon. Or at all.

I opened my mouth, and he said, “I also thought it wasn’t a coincidence Tarrant’s car had been left near the RCU’s old headquarters. Plus, I always thought that beard looked fake.”

No question of whose beard he was referring to. “It wasn’t fake, though. He did grow his hair and beard out.”

“All the same, something about him always struck me as phony.”

“Well, yeah.”

The rain thundering down on the roof filled in the silence between us.

After a time, I asked, “Where do you think Tarrant’s body is? In one of the passageways?”

“I doubt it. There are practical reasons not to try to store a body in a house. Even a house the size of Green Lanterns. He must have dumped it into the bay when he dropped the car off.”

I mused that over, shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“No?”

I recalled the glowing light that had drawn Liana into the maze. “My best guess is it’s somewhere in the maze. In a shallow grave. I bet that’s where he kept Lenton’s body too. That would explain why there was barely any body left, let alone any DNA.”

“God,” Seamus muttered.

We didn’t speak after that, but the silence felt safe, comfortable. “Should we try to sleep?” Seamus whispered.

I nodded, although I was a little afraid of what my dreams would be like. He let go of me, sat up, turned off the lamp, and burrowed back down beside me in the blankets.

“I should turn off that living-room light,” he muttered. “But I don’t think I have the energy to walk that far.”

We breathed in soft unison, his breath warm against my ear.

“When are you going back to New York?” he asked abruptly, sounding unexpectedly wide-awake.

I opened my eyes, gazed at the oblong of light from the living room stretching across the carpet. “As soon as things have settled down here. You?”

I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

“There are some loose ends to tie up, but probably next week.”

My heart lightened. I nodded.

He began tentatively, “Do you think you’d want to…”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Yes. Of course yes.”

“That’s great! What a relief,” Seamus said, and it sounded heartfelt.

I laughed and craned my head to kiss him. “Is it? What did you imagine was happening here?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure. I was worried maybe this was just kind of a holiday romance for you.”

“You have a peculiar idea of going on holiday. We’ll have to work on that.” I was still smiling, and I could feel the line of his cheek crease in response.

“Suits me.”

I closed my eyes again, willed myself to sleep. But I kept thinking about what I had seen in my bedroom that evening—and then later during the séance.

I thought from the even tenor of his breathing, Seamus had drifted off, but he said softly, his thoughts seemingly running along the same lines as mine, “If Foxworth was telling the truth…if it wasn’t him…what was it?”

I didn’t answer.

“You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know.”

“That deputy sure as hell saw something on the third floor. There was no open window for the fog to get in. But somehow Foxworth, who’s been skulking around in the dark up there for the last year, got so disoriented and panicked, he fell over the banister?”

I will never rest until you have paid for what you did…

“I don’t think we’re ever going to know. And maybe there are some things it’s better not to question.”

“Maybe,” Seamus said. He yawned so widely, I heard his jaw crack. “But whoever said that didn’t have to fill out a police report.”

A few minutes later he was snoring quietly, musically into my ear.

I wished I could turn down the burner on my thoughts. Maybe Hart Lenton’s ghost had played a role. Maybe Roma was really psychic—if a bit hit and miss. Did that mean Tony’s spirit truly had appeared during the first séance?

He says you must not blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done.

I was surprised at much I longed for that to be true. It would be nice to believe…

I sighed. The band of light from the living room fell squarely across my face. I should just make the effort to get up and turn it off.

I grabbed the blankets, started to pull them back, and the living-room lamp flicked off. I sank back against Seamus and gazed out the rain-streaked window. I could see the pale, smiling face of the moon gazing in at us.