him in the head with that shovel. She figured he was about to break and give her up. After he was dead, she planned to blame his murder on me, and Tabitha's on him.'
'Why would you kill Fred Hart?'
'I'm sure she would have thought of something,' Tolliver said wearily. 'After all, if a man like me kills a man like Fred Hart, I don't think there'd be too many questions. She would have thrown away her bloody clothes. Maybe if she couldn't figure out how to get blood on me that looked natural, she would have shot me, said she'd caught me in the house after I'd killed him. Who would you have believed?'
The police didn't like that. But I thought my brother was telling the truth.
'What Felicia didn't count on was Harper,' Tolliver said, kissing me on the cheek. 'I was never happier in my life to see anyone, as I was to see you when you popped up by that window.'
'You came out here without a gun or nothing?' asked one of the cops.
'I don't like them,' I said. 'We've never had a gun.'
He shrugged, like I was pretty stupid, and maybe I was.
But if I'd had a gun, I would have shot Felicia until I didn't have any bullets left. As it was, she was alive to stand trial for all the things she'd done. I got a lot of satisfaction out of that.
twenty
'YOU look like a cat attacked you,' Victor said.
I just stared at him.
'Okay, not funny,' he said. 'I'm just really nervous.'
I started to tell him we were, too, but I decided that wouldn't be a calming statement. And Victor really needed to calm down.
I'd figured it might help Victor take his mind off his family situation and at the same time broaden his horizons a bit, so I'd asked him if he wanted to come to the cemetery to help lay Josiah Poundstone's ghost. I was regretting that idea, at the moment. Victor was a little too excited, though he seemed thrilled that I'd asked him. He'd given me a big hug, which surprised the hell out of me and caused Manfred to raise his eyebrows.
I didn't know anything about the business of laying a ghost. So I'd called Xylda Bernardo, and Manfred had brought her. Manfred, resplendent in black leather and silver, had greeted me with a kiss. He'd shaken Victor's hand a little too long. I thought he was trying to get a reading; he wasn't making a pass. Manfred wasn't that diverse. At least, I thought so.
Xylda gazed around the cemetery. 'Tell me about it,' she said.
I explained what I'd seen and felt that night to Xylda, who seemed alert and attentive.
'So, his body is here, and so is his soul. He died of blood poisoning, you think? From a knife cut, given him in a fight.'
'Yes. Really, he was murdered. I don't know who stabbed him, but I suspect it was his Beloved Brother,' I said, because that was something I knew about. 'I think the headstone might indicate guilt. Of course, it could just mean his brother loved him a lot. But I guess that doesn't matter. What really matters is Josiah's ghost being restless, because he wonders why he had to die, and then why his grave was disturbed so often.'
'So, you want his spirit to pass on?'
I didn't even want to consider what other options Xylda could offer me. 'Yes, that's what we want.'
'Good,' Xylda said enigmatically. 'Do you sense him here now?'
It was another cold night, but at least it was clear and not raining. The old cemetery felt just as scary as it had the other time we'd come in the dark. The muted sounds of the city, the uneven ground—but at least the open grave had been filled in. We'd checked that out in the good old daytime, with the sun shining.
I stood once again on this much-used grave and felt downward. I felt Josiah Poundstone's presence not only below me, but around me. 'Yes,' I said. 'He's here.' Victor shivered and looked around as though he expected a murky white figure to approach the grave.
I glanced at my watch. We needed to get a move on. We weren't exactly supposed to be here.
I'd thought about calling the college for permission, but I'd figured it was something they'd never give us. I wanted to get this over with and get off Bingham property before the security guards came by.
Following Xylda's directions, we circled the grave that had held Tabitha's body. We formed a narrow circle around it, and we joined our hands. Manfred's small hand had a strong grip, and his many silver rings pressed into my flesh. Victor had a much lighter grasp on my right hand.
Xylda began saying something in a language I didn't understand. I don't even know if Xylda understood it. But it was effective, whatever it was, because there was a mist forming in front of me, between me and Xylda, and in the mist I could see a face. It was a face I had never seen mobile, animated.
'Jesus,' whispered Manfred, and 'Name of God,' said Victor.
I was not frightened. 'Thank you,' I said. 'Thanks, Josiah.' He'd saved me from falling into the grave, after all. 'No one's going to bother you again. Everyone you knew here has passed on ahead of you. You need to go, too.'
I thought he smiled.
'Don't seek justice, seek peace,' Xylda said, and the face wavered. The eyes turned to Xylda in confusion. And then I saw the lids fall and remain closed. Victor made a gasping sound, and I knew he was weeping as Josiah made his final departure. The face lost its clarity, became less denned, and then the shape of it gradually dispersed. In five minutes, there was no more mist. And the air was clear.
And the cemetery felt empty of anything but us.
