He gave me a look that made me wonder if he knew about Isabel and Devlin.
“Anyway…I don’t mean to keep you.”
“You’re not. I’m glad I ran into you. Temple is in town. We’re having dinner tomorrow night and we’d love to have you join us if you’re free.”
Temple Lee was my former employer. I’d worked for her for two years at the Office of the State Archeologist before moving to Charleston to open my own business. We kept in touch via email and texting, and I considered her my closest friend, which, considering how infrequently we saw each other face-to-face, was a little sad.
“I’d love to if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an intrusion.”
“It’s just a friendly dinner,” he said. “A chance to catch up since she hasn’t been down this way much lately. I’ll call you later with the details.”
“Thanks.”
I waved as I left him to go inside the Institute. I assumed he was headed for the parking area, but as I stepped through the side door into the foyer, I caught a glimpse of him through the front window that looked out on the street. He was peering in the Buick’s windshield. Then slowly he circled the now-empty car, his head lifting now and then to scan the area as if looking for the driver.
He seemed agitated, almost angry, which triggered my curiosity. I watched him for a moment longer, then turned away from the window.
Chapter Fourteen
The wooden floor creaked beneath my shoes as I stepped from the foyer into what had once been the front parlor. Now it was the reception area, and a new assistant had taken over the front desk and phones.
She looked up with a curious half smile as I walked in, her chocolate-brown eyes disdainfully sizing me up from ponytail to sneakers. She was dressed much more stylishly in a silky blue top that looked gorgeous with her dark skin tone.
“May I help you?” she asked, with a trace of an accent I couldn’t place.
“I’m Amelia Gray. I don’t have an appointment, but I’m hoping to see Dr. Shaw.”
“He’s very busy today.”
“Could you at least tell him I’m here? If he doesn’t have time to see me, I can come back later.”
She hesitated, not at all receptive to my request.
“We’re friends,” I added, which did not impress her.
“Wait here,” she coolly instructed as she rose from the Charleston-style desk and disappeared down the hallway. I heard a door open, the murmur of voices and then the brisk click of her heels on the wood floor as she returned.
“This way,” she said, her lips pursed in disapproval.
“Thanks.”
I’d been to the Institute many times before, so, of course, I knew where the office was located, but I followed her silently down the corridor to where she opened a set of pocket doors. She said nothing, merely stepped aside for me to enter, and then slid the doors closed behind me.
I stood glancing around at what appeared at first to be an empty office. It took me a moment to spot Dr. Shaw balancing precariously at the top of a ladder as he pulled a dusty volume from the highest shelf of an overflowing bookcase. I didn’t speak for fear of startling him, even though I’d already been announced and he’d undoubtedly heard the door.
His office was as crowded as ever, a treasure trove of ancient tomes that begged to be explored from cover to cover. The furnishings were sparse, but the room itself was lovely with a cozy marble fireplace for winter evenings and a set of French doors that led out into a well-kept garden. The oak floors were covered with faded rugs and stacks upon stacks of books. I inhaled deeply the scent of leather bindings and a hint of tobacco, although I had never seen Dr. Shaw smoke. But it wasn’t hard to imagine his teeth clamped around the stem of some great, curved pipe as he pondered the complexities of this world and the next.
“Hello,” he called from his lofty perch. “Have a seat, won’t you? I’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Take your time.”
I placed my bag on the floor beside the chair opposite his desk and walked over to glance out at the garden. The doors were ajar, and a mild breeze blew in the fresh talcum scent of the heliotrope that grew in clay pots on the patio. A fat calico sunning on the stone pavers observed me through slitted eyes. Then something at the gate caught her attention, and her ears pricked as she turned. I saw nothing suspicious, although the trail of salt across the threshold piqued my curiosity.
Dr. Shaw descended the ladder and came to greet me. He was even taller than Ethan, with an unstudied elegance that suggested a life of affluent gentility. He had thick, white hair and the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever encountered. Despite his old-money air, he wore his usual attire of threadbare flannel and houndstooth, both trousers and jacket hanging loosely on his lanky frame.
I smelled something faintly musty and herbal as he took my hand in both of his and smiled warmly. “It’s been a while.”
“Yes, too long. How are you, Dr. Shaw?”
“I’m very well, Amelia. And you?”
“Just fine, thank you.”
He cocked his head, observing me. “What have you been up to lately? Forgive me for saying so, but you look a little worse for the wear.”
“I’ve been under the weather,” I said. “Nothing serious.” Unless you counted a near-death experience serious. Unless you counted being haunted serious.
But I wouldn’t mention any of that to Dr. Shaw because, as much as I appreciated his knowledge of all things paranormal, I’d never opened up to him about the ghosts. The sightings were personal and private and talking about them would be yet another way of acknowledging the dead.
“Let’s sit, shall we?” He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Would you like some tea?” he asked as we settled in.
“No, thank you. I won’t take up too much of your time. I’ve stumbled across something that I’d like to ask you about.”
His ears seemed to twitch with the same mild inquisitiveness as the calico. He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Let me guess. You’ve encountered another shadow being.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Psychic vampire?”
“Not that, either.”
He folded his hands on the desk, and I noticed once again the ring he wore on his pinkie. A snake curled around a claw. It was the same emblem Devlin wore around his neck—the talisman of the Order of the Coffin and the Claw. That secret society for the Charleston elite.
I glanced up into those vivid blue eyes and shivered.
“Is the breeze too much?” he asked in concern and started to rise.
“No, no. I’m fine. The reason I wanted to see you…”
He held up a graceful hand to silence me. “As eager as I am to find out what brought you to me this time, I need to get some business out of the way first if you would indulge me. Otherwise, it may slip my mind entirely. I tend to be overly forgetful these days,” he said, a shadow fleeting across his distinguished features. That shadow worried me. I hoped his memory problems weren’t symptomatic of an illness, but on closer inspection, he did look a little frail.
“What business would that be?” I asked.
“I need to ask something of you and I’m afraid it will dredge up a lot of unpleasant memories.”
“What is it?” I asked nervously.
“Have you heard about Oak Grove?”
Another shiver but one of a very different nature. The very mention of that old graveyard invoked dark
