“Did you hear the specifics of what they were arguing about?” Thor asked.
Hayworth shook his head. “They weren’t arguing, or not with each other, anyway. They said they were going to hold firm, and they’d take it as high in the courts as they could go. But what it was about, I don’t know. When I asked, Albion just said they’d be happy to fill me in as soon as it was all settled.”
Ethan asked him if he could remember anything else, but he couldn’t, so the agents gave him their cards, telling him to call them directly if he should think of anything.
When they were leaving, a slim young woman entered with a huge male husky tugging at the leash while she futilely asked him to heel. She might as well have been asking him to jump over the moon, for all the attention the dog was paying her. He started baying and jumping, nearly taking her down.
“Hey, fella,” Thor said, moving forward, grabbing the leash and rescuing the woman. “Sit. Sit.”
To Ethan’s combined surprise and amusement, the dog immediately obeyed.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “He’s beautiful, but he’s so big. I have to bring him back. I just can’t keep him.”
Hayworth came hurrying out of his office. He looked distressed. “Oh, no,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hayworth, so sorry. But I just can’t keep Loki,” she said.
Hayworth looked genuinely distressed. “Of course, I understand. Loki is... I just don’t know what we’re going to do.” He noticed that Ethan and Thor were still there. “This is our third return on Loki. Every time he comes back it gets harder for us to place him.”
“Mr. Hayworth, don’t worry. If you can hold on to Loki until we’ve solved this case and I can head back home, I’ll take him,” Thor said.
Hayworth looked at him with combined surprise and gratitude. “You’re not just saying that?”
“I’ll be back for him, I promise. I’m from Alaska. Huskies are my breed. In fact, if you’d like, I’ll be happy to see him back to his kennel, get to know him a little bit more,” Thor said.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much of a relief all this is,” Hayworth said, then pointed. “This way.”
Thor followed him, leading Loki.
When they returned, Hayworth was talking away about all Loki’s wonderful qualities. Thor met Ethan’s eyes and nodded toward the door to indicate that they could leave.
“What are you? A dog whisperer?” Ethan asked him once they were out of earshot.
Thor grinned. “My sister and her husband raise huskies. I’ve always been good with them, and I already have one husky at home, so what’s one more?”
“I’m glad. That’s a beautiful dog.” As they reached the car Ethan turned the conversation back to the case. “Did Hayworth remember anything more that might help us?” he asked.
“I think so,” Thor said. “I’m hoping tomorrow will tell us more. There’s a lot of oil up my way, so I’ve seen it before, the constant conflict between energy and the environment. We need energy to live, but we also need to preserve the environment. A lot of people on both sides get heated up about it. But heated up enough to kill? Maybe. A lot depends on money, the way it does for pretty much anything else. So I’m hoping we’ll learn more when we get to Vicksburg and talk to the Sane Energy people.”
“So how does Hayworth figure into it?”
“While we were walking Loki back, he remembered hearing our vics talking more than once about the environment and the river. He said they knew they had to tackle some pretty difficult people on the issue, and they had to get others—including the courts—involved. Hayworth thinks that’s what they were talking about at that dog-walk thing, and that they were planning on meeting someone in particular who might be able to help them.”
“Did he say who?”
Thor glanced at him unhappily. “You’re not going to like this,” he said. “Jonathan Moreau.”
* * *
Jude McCoy was sitting in the Eagle View dining room and watching the Southern Belles rehearse their performance for that evening. At first Charlie thought he must get bored, viewing them day after day, but then she realized that he was getting paid to watch his girlfriend do what she loved and was probably completely happy with his assignment.
He seemed laid-back, completely relaxed, as he sat there, but when she looked closely, she could see how aware he was of every move they made and every staff member coming and going through the dining room doors.
His watchfulness made her feel safe, and she had to admit, after the incident with the knife, safe was a really good feeling, even though she didn’t expect anything to happen aboard ship.
When they finished the rehearsal, they headed to lunch. The day was beautiful and, even better, uneventful. Ethan checked in with Jude at one point to say they were heading back and would be there in plenty of time for the second dinner seating.
After lunch, Jude and Alexi walked Charlie to her cabin. Jude waited until she was inside, told her to lock the door and reminded her that they were right next door.
Charlie thanked him. She was glad for the escort, but she was also still convinced nothing was going to happen to her while she was aboard the Journey.
She’d stepped into the shower when she heard the sound. It was faint, not as if someone was knocking at the bathroom door, but rather as if they were brushing something against it.
She turned off the water and listened. The sound had stopped, but unease was racing through her system.
She clenched her teeth, picturing her cell phone where it lay on the bed. Mental note—she mocked herself—remember to bring cell phone into the bathroom next time.
There was nothing else, no other sound. She waited, listening, for what seemed like forever. Finally, wrapped in a towel, she drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the cabin. There was no one there. She wondered what the hell she had heard—or if she had actually heard anything at all.
Feeling unnerved and extremely vulnerable in her towel, Charlie dressed quickly.
As soon as she had clothes on, she picked up her phone to give Clara a call. Thor was on shore with Ethan, so Clara would be alone, too. Charlie felt a bit silly, but even so, she could ask Clara to open the door and watch the hall so she could run the few feet to her friend’s cabin.
But she never dialed, because suddenly she heard the strange brushing sound again, this time against her cabin door. For a few seconds fear, primal and paralyzing, ripped through her.
Pulling herself together, she moved carefully to the door to look out the peephole.
And then she saw him.
He hadn’t knocked because he couldn’t knock. And he couldn’t knock because he was a ghost.
It was the doctor from the dining room.
Charlie was sure she didn’t really need to open the door for him, but she opened it anyway. He was from a long-ago era. In his day, a man would never enter a lady’s cabin without an invitation. Actually, given that she was there alone, he was probably uncomfortable about entering at all.
And yet...
He’d been around for generations. He must have seen about everything by now.
None of that mattered, of course. What mattered was what he could tell her.
She quickly opened the door. “Come in, please,” she said.
He entered, and she swiftly closed and locked the door, then indicated the chair at the dressing table. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, miss,” he said politely.
“I’ve seen you every night,” she told him, taking a seat herself. “I was hoping you would speak with me.”
“Yes,” he said softly, a slight crackle in his voice.
He was so quiet that she was certain no one else would be able to hear him, even if they were s
tanding outside in the hall with their ear against the door.
“Two men were murdered,” she said. “I believe it either had something to do with the recent reenactment here or that the killer was aboard that day and maybe even learned something that made him realize murder was his only option.”
“They were good men,” the doctor said somberly. “Very good men. I watched the reenactment, and I particularly watched them. I was proud of the job they did. That was an important day but also a hard one.” He appeared to wince. “Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I’m Captain Ellsworth Derue, miss. United States Medical Corps. I was aboard when the Johnny Rebs held the boat. They were decent to me and gave me what they had to treat the men. I was proud of the reenactment because it told the story well, and because all those involved that day were good men, didn’t matter what color they wore—or what color they were.”
Charlie wasn’t sure how to reply. “I’m glad,” she said softly. “And also so sorry for all those who died in the war and on this ship.”
“You have to understand, we all—whichever side we fought on—thought we were patriots.”
“I do understand,” Charlie said. “My father—”
“Your father is Jonathan Moreau. We’ve watched him many times, with a great deal of pride,” Captain Derue said.
Charlie smiled. “Thank you.”
“But I regret to tell you, he is somehow involved in this,” Captain Derue said gravely.
Charlie froze. No. She didn’t care who tried to tell her that her father was involved, they were wrong. She knew him. He was not a murderer.
“He didn’t kill anyone,” she said at last, her voice brittle.
“No, he is no killer. But he was here on the Journey, and they were talking about him...the soon-to-be-dead men, Corley and Hickory. They were trying to figure something out. They kept saying, ‘Jonathan will know.’ They planned to meet with him and ask for his help.”
“Do you think he’s even aware of what he knows?” Charlie asked. “Of how dangerous it seems to be?”
“That I don’t know. But he needs to be careful. Others were nearby when the two men were speaking and might have overheard. Later your father talked with Albion Corley up on the Sun Deck, and not long afterward the small blonde woman showed up and had an argument with Professor Corley. There were others from the reenactment nearby, as well.”
“Who? Do you know who?” she asked urgently.
He shook his head. “I know your father because he is always on the ship. I knew Mr. Hickory and Mr. Corley because I was there when they argued, and your father spoke their names when he stepped in. I don’t know the names of any of the others. One couple talked about taking care of their children. Does that help you identify them?”
“So they were a couple in real life?” Charlie asked, then winced inwardly at the insensitivity of the term.
He nodded. “She was about five-and-a-half feet and blonde, and her husband was over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds.”
She gasped. He’d just described Nancy and Todd Camp.
Charlie reached out—she still hadn’t gotten the hang of not doing so—and her hand passed through the tenuous image of his, and yet she was certain that he’d felt the warmth and appreciation in her touch.
“Thank you. I need to talk to my father. If he hasn’t realized what he knows, maybe I can help him figure it out.”
“Be careful. I fear for him, just as I fear for you.”
She smiled. “I’m safe. I have three government agents looking after me—and I think I have you and the others, as well.”
He nodded gravely.
“I wish there was a way to thank you,” she said.
He smiled. “Sing ‘Lorelei,’” he told her. “And that duet mixing ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home’ with ‘Dixie.’ Please. For all the friends I lost, North and South. For those, like me, who died of disease, praying for the war to end.”
He stood, ready to leave her.
She stood as well, and said, “Thank you, Captain.”
She didn’t need to open the door again. He simply dissipated into the air.
Charlie sank down on the bed, suddenly weak. She glanced at her watch, anxious now for the excursion in Natchez to be over and for her father to return to the ship.
She desperately needed to talk to him.
Alone.
14
As they boarded the ship, Ethan called Jude to tell him they were back. Jude assured him that everything was fine. Charlie was in her cabin next door to his, and he’d called to check on her not five minutes ago. He was about to go get her, then walk her, Alexi and Clara to the dining room.
Ethan briefed Jude on what they had learned and told him that he would wait on deck for Jonathan Moreau to return.
He’d been waiting for what felt like hours when the tour buses finally began to pull up by the dock. In a few minutes he saw Jonathan Moreau—followed by a string of what he could only call fans—approach the ship.
Ethan had to give the man credit; he never seemed to notice the admiration in the eyes of his listeners, nor did he pay any extra attention when an attractive woman was especially in awe. His excitement was all for the history he passed on.
As he reached the deck, Jonathan noticed Ethan—and Ethan’s expression. He excused himself to the group and approached Ethan.
“What now?” Jonathan asked flatly.
“You tell me. What are you still not telling us?” Ethan said.
“What are you talking about?” Jonathan demanded. “If I knew anything—especially since I know my name keeps coming up in your investigation—wouldn’t I tell you? Good people have been killed. If I could help in any way, don’t you think I would?”
“I’d like to believe that, yes.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Doggone It,” Ethan said.
Jonathan stared at him, then shook his head. “What about it? It’s an organization promoting no-kill shelters. I send them a check for twenty dollars every month. How did I hear about it? At my Masonic lodge. A number of my lodge brothers are into saving animals. People who like to save animals don’t usually kill humans—who are animals, too, after all.”
“I was at their headquarters this morning,” Ethan said.
“I hope you left a healthy check.”
“I spoke with Mr. Hayworth.”
Jonathan continued to stare at him, but Ethan simply waited patiently for him to crack and say something.
“I don’t know the name,” Jonathan said. “I’ve never actually visited the place.”
“All right. How about Sane Energy?”
Jonathan frowned. “I help them out from time to time, yes.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to get people to talk to one another.”
“Were Hickory and Corley some of the people who need to talk?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. There’s a company called Gideon Oil. Sane Energy has been reaching out to them, hoping to discuss a potential win-win solution. There are several engineers in my lodge who say there’s a safer, albeit more expensive, way to lay oil lines along the river from the Gulf of Mexico. There was talk about arranging a sit-down between members of Sane Energy and the management of Gideon Oil.”
“Why didn’t you mention this?”
“Because it didn’t occur to me to mention it! Sane Energy has hundreds of members, and I don’t even know anyone at Gideon Oil. I assumed they had someone with better connections setting it up.”
“Hickory and Corley were passionate about Sane Energy’s cause, and word is they intended to use you as a negotiator.” He was guessing, of course. But, if he sounded definite enough, he might be able to
draw out the truth.
“If they were, I knew nothing about it. But you can easily find out tomorrow. The head office of Sane Energy is in Vicksburg. Use your badge to make people there talk to you. Ask them what they know. If Hickory and Corley wanted to involve me, maybe they told the top people at Sane Energy. They certainly didn’t tell me.”
“How could you not know if your friends had plans for you?”
“I’m passionate about one thing, Ethan. History. Other than that, I help out my friends when they ask. But I swear to you, no one had asked me about this. So, yes, I lied at first. I lied to you. And, God help me, I lied to my daughter. But I did it to protect a confidence. Now you know the truth, and the truth is that both murdered men were my friends, and I would do anything possible to help find their killer. If it has something to do with Gideon Oil, that’s news to me. So go to Sane Energy tomorrow and—”
He broke off, looking at Ethan and shaking his head. “You already planned on going to Sane Energy tomorrow, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. We did.”
Jonathan stared at him. “Then excuse me. I’d like to shower and change and go hear my daughter sing.”
As Jonathan walked away Ethan glanced at his watch. The second dinner seating was due to begin shortly.
He headed to the Eagle View.
* * *
She waited until the second seating, but then, as she had promised, Charlie saw to it that they sang both songs Captain Ellsworth Derue had requested. And, as she expected, she looked out over the dining room and saw them all—the ghosts of the soldiers who had died so long ago—filling the room. They were like double-exposed film, moving silently among the diners who still lived and breathed.
She caught Alexi looking at her, and they exchanged a smile. She realized Alexi understood how much this moment spent singing just for the shades of the dead meant to her. She wasn’t sure if happiness was something the dead could still feel, but she had to believe they could, because based on the sense of peace she felt in that moment, she and her friends had indeed made these men happy.