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“I wonder what’s going on here?” Rebecca said. “The treasure has been found. There’s no reason for anyone else to be slipping through the woods, causing trouble.”
“But someone is—or at least someone is slipping through the woods,” Dru pointed out, wondering himself if there were two separate incidents—the attack on Joey and some kids trespassing on Blackthorn for a thrill. He wasn’t so certain the “trespasser” was harmless.
The two deputies came up from the bluff. “We got a cast of a footprint,” one said, “but that’s about it. A male. About a size 11, worn running shoes. It’s distinctive if we can find the shoe. There’s a small place on the bank where someone’s been tying up a boat. It’s been used more than once.”
Dru nodded. “Good work.”
“Can you recommend a good security agency?” Rebecca asked. “I’ll hire a watchman to guard that landing.”
One thing Dru liked about Rebecca was her ability to land on her feet. When something happened, she figured out a way to fix it. But he wasn’t ready yet to post a guard.
“If we’re lucky, the intruder isn’t aware that he’s been seen. He didn’t see you in the scaffolding, did he?”
Rebecca shook her head, her expression showing curiosity about where he was going.
“Then he may believe he hasn’t been discovered at the landing. If that’s true, he’ll come back.”
“Which is exactly why I want someone down there to stop him.”
“But it may be our best opportunity to catch him,” Dru said with a grin. “If we’re waiting for him up here.”
He saw the two deputies look at each other. The glance was covert, and in an instant they were impassive again. Rebecca obviously saw it too.
“I doubt the Adams County Sheriff’s Department will stake out my property to prevent a trespasser,” she said.
“I couldn’t assign one of my men,” Dru agreed. “But I could stay myself. I think a night watch will be sufficient.”
He saw the unexpected rush of gratitude on Rebecca’s face and realized she would never have asked for special favors. That was another thing he liked about her. She didn’t assume anything.
“I’d rather catch him than scare him off,” Rebecca admitted. “I’m afraid if he gets scared off the river, he’ll just come in from the road.”
“I suspect you’re right about that,” Dru agreed, meeting his deputies’ amused glances.
“I’ll volunteer to help, too,” one of the deputies said with a wicked grin at Dru. “Me, too,” the other chimed in.
“All I can say is that the Adams County law enforcement is the most accommodating I’ve ever heard about,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps I could offer you gentlemen some coffee and breakfast?”
“If you’re sure it’s no bother,” Dru said, shaking his head in amusement at his two officers.
As he and Rebecca led the way to the cottage, he glanced back toward the river. Who was on Blackthorn property and what were they doing there? With the recovery of the treasure and Marcus’s confession that he’d been playing the role of Andre Agee, the mysterious horseman, to thwart development of the property, Dru had hoped that all of the rumors and odd events at Blackthorn would stop. Now it looked as if he’d been more than a tiny bit optimistic.
REBECCA SLIPPED into her riding breeches with a sigh of guilty anticipation. She’d brought Joey home from the hospital with a knot the size of a goose egg on his head, but the doctor had assured her he was perfectly fine. She’d left him sitting in the shade of a big pecan, watching over his garden.
She’d talked to the contractor, Eugene Batson, about the wiring, repeating all of the things Marcus had written on a list for her. One thing she’d learned from this experience was that she never wanted to build a house. The details were endless, and there were times she simply had to guess what Marcus and Aurelia would want. Perhaps the experience would be more enjoyable if she weren’t serving as absentee owner. Then again, how many people got to participate in the construction of what was going to be one of the most architecturally innovative houses ever built. She grinned as she laced her paddock boots.
For the time being, though, she could simply put all of that aside for an hour and enjoy a ride on Cogar.
Joey was drawing another diagram of a garden in the dirt, but he promised her he wouldn’t get hot working. She winked at him as she went on to the barn and saddled the big gray. Cogar was so tall, she almost needed a mounting block to get on. Almost.
When she was in the saddle, he moved out willingly, as eager for the ride as she was. As soon as she was in the woods, she let her troubles slip away. They walked until he was warm, moved into a trot, then eased into a ground-covering gallop. Her mind slipped to fantasy.
As a young girl, she’d often fantasized about Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest. That’s what the woods around Blackthorn reminded her of. At any moment the band of merry robbers could step out of the woods.
She smiled at a childhood memory: she’d been torn between wanting to be Robin—or Maid Marian. Robin seemed to have the most fun, but Marian was certainly beautiful. Those thoughts led her to Dru. He was a handsome man with a casual grace and easy confidence that she found delightful. Since he was so secure in who he was, she didn’t feel any pressure from him to change who she was. Of course, they were just getting to know each other. In the beginning, Mike had been easygoing, too. It was only toward the end that he began to act as though her hopes and dreams didn’t matter. What he wanted was the only important thing.
As if her thoughts precipitated it, a dark cloud covered the sun, casting the woods in shadow. Cogar had slowed to a walk, and Rebecca felt a little foolish as chill bumps danced over her arms.
Cogar’s head lifted, his ears pricked forward. Then she heard it. The sound of a baby crying. It was the eeriest thing she’d ever heard, rising and falling in desperate bursts from somewhere in the woods. Everything that Aurelia had told her came back to her.
Yvonne Harris and Randall Levert had been playing tape recordings of a crying baby in the woods of Blackthorn in an attempt to frighten Aurelia off the estate. And then Yvonne had taken it several steps further. She’d murdered Randall’s mother, Lottie, and tried to pin the murder on Aurelia by planting evidence. She’d also betrayed her co-conspirator by planting evidence against him, too. She’d intended to get both Aurelia and Randall out of the way.
Fortunately, Yvonne’s plans had been foiled. Aurelia, though charged, had been found innocent of Lottie Levert’s murder. Yvonne had been found guilty of Lottie’s death and was in the state penitentiary.
Randall, shocked that his partner in crime had murdered his own mother in an attempt to frame him, had turned state’s evidence against Yvonne. He, too, was serving time.
So why was a baby crying in the woods at Blackthorn, in some eerie repetition of past events?
Cogar stepped forward, as if he wanted to go into the woods. Rebecca reined him in. She sat and listened, the sound of the baby almost breaking her heart. But she wasn’t going into the woods. There were trespassers on Blackthorn and she was smart enough not to walk into a trap. If someone was playing tricks on her, she wouldn’t fall for them. Instead, she’d go straight back to the cottage and call Dru.
She had no belief that the baby crying in the woods was real. Therefore she didn’t feel it necessary to try and find it. Nudging Cogar into a trot, she headed back to the cottage and a telephone.
DRU FROWNED as he hung up the receiver. It wasn’t what he called justice, but then, he’d learned that when a witness cut a deal, lots of things were possible. He stared at the notes he’d made on a pad.
Randall Levert had been released from prison two days before based on the deal he’d cut with the prosecutor in testifying against Yvonne.
Dru wasn’t happy with that information, but he knew that Randall hadn’t been involved in his mother’s murder. What he’d done was attempt to frighten Aurelia into selling Blackthorn. And he’d used poor judgment in teaming up with Yvonne Harris.
And it would seem that he was using poor judgment once again. Dru stood up. He had no doubt that the sudden “intruder” at Blackthorn was none other than Randall Levert. But why Randall would risk losing his probation was what troubled Dru. He was either stupid or crazy, and both of those mindsets could be very dangerous under the right circumstances.
Dru drove out to Blackthorn and caught sight of Rebecca trotting out of the woods on a huge gray horse. The sight was breathtaking. He’d never been overly interested in horses, but the sight of Rebecca astride the gray made the sport seem infinitely more fascinating.
The expression on her face, though, told another story. He was out of the patrol car and at her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a baby crying in the woods,” she said, her voice trembling.
Dru realized she was more unnerved than she wanted him to know. His hand went to her knee in a gesture of comfort. “That stands to reason. They released Randall Levert on probation two days ago,” he said, “just about the time someone started trespassing on Blackthorn property. What surprises me is that he’s stupid enough to try the same stunt twice in a row.”
“Why is he doing this?” Rebecca asked, and Dru was relieved to hear anxiety beginning to turn to anger.
“That’s a good question. He’s risking real jail time for this stunt.”
“You’re positive the person doing this is Randall Levert?”
Dru considered the question. His gut told him it was Randall, but there wasn’t any evidence. “Fairly certain, but that doesn’t mean I’ll rule out other possibilities. What I am going to do is pick Randall up for questioning. If this is his idea of revenge, I’ll make him understand he’s playing a foolish game with severe consequences.”
“I’m sorry this thing has just…exploded,” Rebecca said. “First the man in the woods, then Joey, then the boat thing, and now the baby is back. I feel responsible for this in some way.” She started to swing from the saddle.
Dru found his hands around her waist steadying her as she dropped to the ground. He half expected her to step away from him. Instead, she turned so that she was in the circle of his arms. Her blue eyes held his, and he let his hands remain on her waist.
“You have nothing to do with Randall and whatever sick plan he’s hatched,” Dru said, his gaze slipping to her mouth. It was full and looked soft. He imagined what it would feel like to kiss her. He wanted to. He watched her swallow and realized that she, too, was thinking of a kiss.
“Will you really come by tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I’d feel better if I kept an eye on things.”
“I’ll make dinner for you,” she said. “I’m a pretty good cook.”
“A woman with endless talents,” he said, knowing that the moment for the kiss had passed. But there would be other opportunities in the coming night, when he wasn’t on duty and when Brett Gibson and the Batson girl weren’t standing at the edge of the clearing watching them.
CHAPTER FOUR
REBECCA BASTED the turkey breast for the last time and turned the oven off. She’d made a light salad and bought some fresh pears and blueberries. It was only May, but it was summertime in Natchez, far too hot for a heavy meal.
She checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror one more time, a little amused at herself for the mascara and lipstick she’d applied. Working out-of-doors, she normally didn’t wear makeup. But there was something about Dru Colson that reminded her all too much of her femininity. Rebecca had tried on several outfits before she settled on one—atypical behavior yet again. She was getting into her “courting finery,” as her Aunt Mildred would have said.
That, in and of itself, was a minor miracle. After her breakup with Mike, she’d never expected to find herself in a position of wanting to attract a man. She didn’t dress to repel men, she just didn’t think about it. But Dru Colson was different. He made her think about her appearance and his reaction to her. Surprisingly, it was nice to wonder what effect a sleeveless, sexy blouse would have on a man. Somehow, Dru made it seem so natural.
He was different from other men she’d known. Or so he seemed, she reminded herself. She hardly knew him. She didn’t want to find herself out of the frying pan and into the fire. She was going to take things slowly.
She heard the sound of his car and felt her heart stutter. She ordered herself to take deep breaths, to go slow. Her heartbeat was accelerating and she could feel anticipation in every inch of her body. So much for speed limits. But when she opened the door of Joey’s apartment to his knock, she was in perfect control.
“I drove around the perimeter of the property and everything seemed okay.” His eyes crinkled into a smile as his gaze swept down her body, leaving a burning tingle behind. “You look lovely. And something smells wonderful.”
“Thanks.” Desire swept through her. “You look very handsome yourself.” And he did, with his dark hair combed back and his clean-shaven, chiseled jaw so lean and tanned. There was no denying it. Dru was a well-built man. What her Aunt Mildred would call a Tilt-a-Whirl, so named after the dizzying amusement park ride.
“Joey should be here soon,” Rebecca said. “He was delighted to let me use the new oven. I think even Joey gets tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“I do,” Joey said, coming in the door with a grin. His head was still bandaged, but he had a great appetite and said he felt fine.
“I checked the horses,” he said, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I think we should let them out in the pasture and not keep them in the barn tonight.”
Rebecca knew Joey was afraid someone would try to burn the barn again. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “We’ll turn Cogar and Mariah out in the pasture right beside the barn and Diable in his paddock. You can hear them all night long.”
“That does sound like a good plan,” Dru agreed. “Joey, have you thought any more about who hit you?”
He nodded. “But I didn’t see him. I’ve tried and tried to remember, but he was hiding and then he hit me and I fell.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Dru reassured Joey as he glanced at Rebecca.
She nodded slightly. Both she and Dru had agreed that Joey needed to know that Randall Levert was out of jail on probation. She stood beside Joey’s chair as Dru told him.
“He’ll come back here,” Joey said, and he turned to look up at Rebecca with worry in his eyes. “He’s a mean man. Why did they let him out of jail? He wants to hurt me and he’ll hurt you, too.”
“Randall Levert won’t be bothering anyone if he has a lick of sense. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow,” Dru said. “I can’t guarantee that he won’t come here, but I can make him understand that he’ll be in serious trouble if he does.”
“He was so mad,” Joey said, his voice tight with worry. “He wanted everyone to think Aurelia had killed his mother. Then when it was Yvonne, he was even madder.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, putting a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “But we’re all here together. Remember, Brett and his crew are camping by the burial mound. I’m here and Dru is going to stay around. Randall won’t come here. There are too many people on the property now.”
“I hope not.” Joey didn’t sound reassured. “He’s mean.”
“Joey, I want you to keep your eyes and ears open,” Dru said. “If you see anything funny, you call me, okay?”
“Aurelia and Marcus gave me a cell phone,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket. “So I can call for help any time I need it.”
Dru examined the phone that Joey held out to him. “That’s a great idea. So you call if you see or hear anything, okay? You can help me protect Rebecca.”
“And the horses,” Joey said.
“And the horses,” Rebecca agreed.
She put the food on the table and they ate, chatting about Joey’s garden and how Brett and his crew had unearthed an intact vessel that contained what appeared to be even more valuable artifacts. The fact that the earthen vessel was still unbroken after so many years was a minor miracle in itself.
“John Ittawasa is coming tomorrow,” Rebecca said. “I called him and reported the find, just as Aurelia promised we would do. I’m afraid it’s going to be another battle with Brett.” She sighed. “John wants to take the artifacts back to Philadelphia, Mississippi, and have them documented at the Choctaw Indian Reservation. Brett wants to keep them here so he can study them and perhaps do an exhibit at a later date. I see both points of view.”
“If John documents them, perhaps he’ll allow Brett to use them later, when he has a more complete collection,” Dru said.
“Oh, that voice of reason just isn’t heard in the heat of the argument. Believe me, I’ve tried to reason with Brett. He’s totally in a snit.”
“Who has the final say?” Dru asked.
Rebecca looked into his eyes. “I do.”
“What are you going to do?” Dru asked.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“May I offer some advice?” Dru asked.
“I’d love it, though I can’t promise to take it.” She would be glad to hear advice from an unbiased party, especially one as level-headed as Dru.
“I wouldn’t keep the artifacts on Blackthorn property no matter who ultimately has control of them. You’ve been having trouble. It would be a crying shame if someone came in and destroyed these artifacts in some act of vengeance or revenge.”
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dru. That’s the best reasoning I’ve heard. You make perfect sense, and I’ll make sure the artifacts are put somewhere safe. Like a bank vault or something, first thing in the morning.”
“How valuable are these things?” Dru asked.
“Depends on who you ask. So little is known about the Mound Builders that this may be the definitive site. They lived along the Mississippi River, and there were more burial mounds until the river broke the levee in 1927 and flooded most of the delta. A lot of history, both Native American and early settler, was lost then. If this is the most preserved site, then the artifacts are quite valuable from a historical perspective.”
“What about jewels and gold and things like that?”
“Not really a part of the Mound Builders’ interest. The Aztecs and Toltecs in South America actually made gold jewelry and adorned themselves with silver and gold. Around here there weren’t a lot of precious metals or jewels.”
“So what’s the monetary value of this site?”
“I’m not sure that’s easy to explain. Most people think only of jewels and precious metals when it comes to tombs. The pyramids in Egypt were filled with material wealth. This site is different. Brett has schooled me well,” she said, giving an apologetic grin. “This site is about information, history, preservation of a site sacred to Native American Indians. And,” she got a teasing look in her eyes, “Brett says there’s some indication that Ponce de Leon had begun to believe that the fountain of youth was somewhere along the great Mississippi River.”
“Ah, the old fountain-of-youth lure.”
