Her family!
Not her!
And she was looking up at a Civil War general and turning to see that the dead man before her was touching her shoulder from behind....
Shed never thought of herself as a coward.
But she was!
Liv, Marcus said. Liv...Im dead. Help me. I didnt slide back into drugsI didnt! And it wasnt an accident. I was killed, Liv. It was murder. Help me!
A strangled-sounding scream escaped her lips; she heard that much.
Then she keeled over on top of Marcus Danbys body in a dead faint.
1
The meeting Dustin Blake had been asked to attend was being held at the General Bixby Tavern, just off the I-95 South exit in northern Virginia.
Dustin knew it well. Hed often stopped there when he was a kid and his parents had taken him to D.C.a place theyd both loved. Being historians, they would have lived at the Smithsonian if they could. At the time, hed thought that the taverns owners had hired an actor to portray General Bixby. Bixby had been kind to him and full of information.
Dustin remembered being humiliated and hurt, as only a kid could be, when hed discovered that there was no actor and his parents were concerned about his invention of imaginary friends. Then, of course, hed disturbed them both by knowing things only the generalor a much older person, and an expert on the Civil Warwould know.
That had led to a number of sessions with a psychiatrist.
Dustin had then made the sage decision to agree that General Bixby was an imaginary friend. That had brought about deep thought on the part of his parentsand it had also brought about his sister. His extremely academic parents had worried that an only child might be given to such flights of fancy because he was lonely. So theyd set forth to add to their family.
That was all right. He loved his sister.
He pulled off the interstate and took an exit that led nowhere except Old Tavern Road. Soon he pulled his black SUV into the lot at the tavern and parked. For a moment, he sat and stared at the building.
What was now the General Bixby Tavern had actually been built during the American Revolution and been called the Wayfarers Inn. During the Civil War, it had been renamed for the gallant Union generalthe kind imaginary friend who had, while he was alive, braved heavy artillery to save both Union and Confederate soldiers. This was when a fire had broken out in the nearby forest. While many a leader might have sat atop his horse far from the carnage, Bixby had ridden right into the inferno. Wounded after dragging at least twenty injured men from the disaster, hed been brought to the tavern where hed died, pleading that the nation settle its differences and find peace.
He really was a fine old gentleman. Dustin knew that well.
He exited the car and headed up the old wooden steps to the broad porch that wrapped around the tavern. This many years later, the tavern was still basically in the wildernessthe closest town being Fredericksburg. Winter was approaching and there was a little coolness in the air, heightened by the thickness of the woods around them. Only its historic importance, and the plethora of ghost hunters, kept it from falling into ruin.
When Dustin stepped inside the dim tavern, he blinked at the change of light. He wondered instantly if the meeting had been planned so hed have a few seconds of disorientationa time during which he might be observed and not observe in return.
As his eyes adjusted, he saw General Bixby seated at the bar. The general nodded gravely at Dustin, indicating a group across the room.
Dustin nodded in return, then moved toward the others. He saw David Caswell stand; hed been sitting at a corner booth. Caswell wasnt alone. There were two other men with him. One was dark-haired with Native American ancestry apparent in a strong face. The other was light-skinned and light-haired. When they, too, stood to meet him, he saw that they were both tall and fit. And both were wearing casual suits. Not the usual fedsif that was what they were.
Dustin! David Caswell said. The pleasure of his greeting seemed sincere.
Dustin! David Caswell said. The pleasure of his greeting seemed sincere.
Good to see you, Dustin greeted David, shaking his hand. He glanced at the other two men and waited.
Id like you to meet Jackson Crow and Malachi Gordon, David turned. Jackson, Malachi, Special Agent Dustin Blake. When I first started with the police force in Savannah, Dustin and I were partners. Hes the bestand rare in his abilities.
Thank you for coming, Jackson said.
The men took their seats again. They studied him, and he returned their stare.
So the dark-haired man was the famousor infamousJackson Crow.
How do you like being with the feds, Mr. Blake? Crow asked him.
How do I like it? Just fine, Dustin said. And it was fine. He wasnt sure what he felt about being there today, however. Thered been a time when hed wanted nothing more than to be assigned to one of Crows special units. Now...he wasnt so sure.
In all honestyand he didnt know if it was simply self-assurance or something less commendablehed expected to receive a good assignment when hed graduated from the academy. Whatever that might be. And hed gotten a good assignment. He worked with a group of four consultants sent on diverse cases when violent crime crossed state lines.
You enjoy working with your team? Crow asked. Was it just a polite question?
Yeah, I do. My coworkers are good, savvy, personable and experienced. I work with one guy, Grant Shelby, whos six foot seven, nearly three hundred pounds of lean, mean muscle, with almost computer-powered intelligence. Hes pretty good to have around in a hostile situation. And Cindy Greenstreet had the highest test scores in the past decade. I also work with Jerry Gunteryou might have heard the name. He used to be a mixed-martial-arts champ before entering the academy. Hes pretty good to have around in a pinch, as well. If youve called me here, Im sure youve read up on me, so you know that when I joined the bureau, I didnt start out as a kid but came in with a lot of experience, both in combat and law enforcement.
Crow nodded and Dustin realized that hed known all this. Dustins FBI unit was smart and toughtheyd been put together to get in and get the job done.
Good assignment, Crow said with a nod.
Yeah. As hed told them, Dustin hadnt come into the academy as a fresh-faced twenty-something grad. Before hed gone to college, hed participated as a witness in a case involving a duo of oddly matched serial killers. From there, hed gone into the military, and after the marines hed gone into police work. He hadnt exactly entered the department immediately; thered been a year when hed been in total denial about himself and his unusual abilitiesand about the heinous things men seemed willing to do to their fellows. Hed more or less walked into the wilderness. Actually, it hadnt been that dramatic. Hed taken a job as a forest ranger in the Evergladesexcept that hed been led to bodies in giant oilcans and hed realized it was time to move his efforts in the best possible direction. There were certain things a man couldnt escapeand his own nature was one of them.
So hed decided to apply to the academy.
You know all about me, Dustin said. Why are we meeting?
David looked at Jackson Crow and shrugged.
What do you know about the Krewes? This time, it was Malachi Gordon who spoke. Dustin knew his name; he was a recent graduate of the academy. Hed come into the bureau after working a case in Savannah.
Dustin leaned back. Ive read about what happened in Savannah, he told Malachi. You know I worked with David so, of course, the beautiful city of Savannah is near and dear to my heart. In fact, I was somewhat surprised that my unit wasnt assigned to that case, but apparently, things were already being taken care of. And, to the best of my knowledge, that case has been cleared, the paperwork wrapped up and the feds are long gone from Savannah. Having worked there, I thought I might be of some help, but...
He paused and grinned sheepishly at David. It seems like you all did just fine without me.
Im sure you wouldve been an asset, Malachi murmured.
Dustin looked curiously at the other man. Thanks, but as I saidseems like you had it covered.
That was thenand we did have it covered. However, although the Krewes are growing, there are never enough of us, and were always looking for the right people, Crow told him. Would you be interested in seeing how you work out with one of our units?
Dustin smiled. That was straightforward. I initially asked about applying to one of your units. They told me there was no application process. You formed your own units.
Thats true, Crow said. And I wish Id known about you earlier. David was talking to Malachi about you, and then Malachi talked to me. So, yes, I looked you up and pulled strings to get all the information I could on you. Thus far, each recruit has worked out. Were...careful in the people we approach. We have to be.
Because you all have special talents, I take it? Dustin asked. And, of course, because all the other agents like to call the units ghost hunters and rib you all about it. But really, theyre all envious of your record.
Detective Caswell has told us that working with you was like
Like working with me, Malachi Gordon cut in. David and I were together in New Orleans, he explained.
I see, Dustin said.
Are you a candidate, Mr. Blake? Crow asked him.
Dustin lowered his head, hiding a smile. He looked back at Crow. Well, let me put it this wayif you havent met him yet, Id be glad to introduce you to General Bixby. Hes sitting at the bar right now, next to the man in the jeans and Alice Cooper T-shirt.
That brought a grin to Crows face. Dustin hadnt been sure the man was really capable of a smile.
We havent met formally, no, but weve been aware of his presence.
I wasnt sure if I was being tested or not. Dustin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at Jackson Crow, then Dustin and finally the third man, Malachi Gordon.
Why now? he asked.
It was Gordon who answered him. Youre from Nashville, he said.
Dustin thought quickly. He was privy to law-enforcement reports daily. He hadnt heard anything about a kidnapping or murder in the city of Nashville.
I am from Nashville, he said, frowning. But Ive been gone for a long time.