Southern Ghost

plantation records. Cut-glass decanters sat on a Chippen­dale sideboard. A cut-glass bowl on Smithson's desk held jelly beans.

'All right.' His voice was crisp now, decisive. 'I'll tell you what I know with the understanding'—he paused, his eyes still probing theirs—'with the understanding that finding

Courtney takes precedence over everything else. Is that a deal?'

'That's a deal,' Max said quickly.

Smithson smoothed his beard and leaned back in his chair. 'Very well. I have to go back some years. Twenty- two years. At that time, I represented the Kimball family, as had my father and my grandfather before me. Carleton Kimball and I were at the university together. We were boyhood friends before that. Carleton married my cousin Delia. A happy mar­riage. But there were no children. Both Delia and Carleton were only children. Not even nephews and nieces to love. They wanted children desperately, but finally, they didn't talk anymore about when children would come, and the years were slipping away.

'That was the situation in 1970. In December of that year, Carleton and Delia left town rather abruptly in mid-month. I saw them the evening before they departed. And I will tell you, as the father of five children, that the possibility my cousin, then in her early forties, might have been nearly full-term pregnant never occurred to me. I was astonished when Carleton and Delia arrived back in Beaufort just before Christ­mas with Courtney.'

His face softened in remembrance. 'They were enormously proud of their new daughter. Through the years, I tried several times to talk to Carleton about Courtney, but he always cut me off. He was a genial man, but this was one topic he would nor discuss. The last time I brought it up, a few years before his death, I told him that if any question ever arose about Courtney's parentage, it would he important to have adoption papers to prove she was indeed his daughter at law. He an­swered simply, 'Courtney is our daughter.' Their wills specifi­cally provided for Courtney to inherit the bulk of the Kimball estate, which was considerable. And, finally, after time, I didn't think about it anymore. Carleton died when Courtney was seventeen; Delia died this March. Courtney came into her inheritance. There were no other surviving relatives.'

Max went straight to the point. 'You don't believe she is the Kimballs' natural daughter.'

'No.' A glint of humor. 'Germaine, my wife, was preg­nant too many times. It's there, the way a woman carries herself, the look in her eyes. But, more than that, Carleton and Delia were both big people. He was well over six feet, Delia must have been at least five seven. Tall and big. And dark. He had swarthy skin and Delia was olive skinned. They both had coal-black hair and dark-brown eyes.'

'Oh, I see.' Max turned to Annie. 'Courtney's slim and small boned and very fair skinned with blond hair and blue eyes. Like Laurel.'

Annie shrugged. 'Brown-eyed people can have blue-eyed children. It's rare, but the gene for blue eyes is recessive and it does happen. And lots of children and parents don't look at all alike.'

The lawyer was quick to agree. 'Oh, I know. We have a redheaded son and there hasn't—officially—been a redhead in the Smithson family in two hundred years. Germaine gets a bit touchy about the usual kind of jokes people make. So yes, it could be. But that isn't all. That isn't even most of it.' Smithson absently straightened his perfectly aligned desk blotter. 'There's a matter of personality. Do you have chil­dren?'

'Not yet.' Max flashed an ebullient glance at Annie.

Her eyes narrowed. Not yet. She wasn't ready yet.

'Hmm. Well, let me say simply that heredity can't be denied.' Smithson glanced at the row of photographs on his desk.

'That's for sure,' Max said emphatically. 'I have three sisters.'

Annie could appreciate the wealth of emotion in Max's voice. Certainly only heredity could account for Deirdre's penchant for marriages (four to date), Gail's devotion to causes (the only California mayor to parachute into the midst of a North Carolina tobacco auction with a sign declaring SMOKING Kills), and Jen's free spirit (Bella Abzug with beauty). And they all knew whence sprang these militantly unconventional attitudes.

Annie usually forced herself to avoid lengthy contempla?

tion of this subject. After all, Max wasn't spacey. But some times, his dark-blue eyes were uncannily like those of Laurel. . . .

'Environment can play a major role,' Annie said deter­minedly, quashing the thought that she was whistling in the dark.

'Certainly,' Max agreed. But he didn't look at Annie.

The lawyer nodded slowly. 'Yes, that's true. But the core of personality—Carleton and Delia were both extremely serious, extremely intense. Carleton was an excellent tax lawyer, cau­tious, conservative. He enjoyed Double-Crostic puzzles. He collected train memorabilia. He wasn't an outdoor man or a sportsman. He was not well coordinated. Delia was interested in family history. She collected snuffboxes and china plates. She never engaged in a sport in her entire life.'

'And Courtney didn't fit?' Annie asked.

The lawyer looked at her appreciatively. 'Precisely. Now, I want to be clear. Carleton and Delia adored Courtney. She was the delight of their lives. But they always seemed fairly aston­ished by Courtney and her enthusiasms.' He reached for one of the silver-framed photographs on his desk and turned it toward them. 'This is my youngest daughter, Janelle. Janelle never saw a dare she didn't take, either. She and Courtney were inseparable growing up. They won the state junior doubles championship in tennis two years running. They both played field hockey. Watching Courtney play field hockey al­most drove Delia and Carleton mad with worry. She broke her left arm one year, a collarbone the next. Courtney plays to win. She loves jumping.' He looked at them doubtfully. 'Horses.' They nodded. 'And she has a stubborn streak. If anybody tells her she can't do something, well, that means she'll try doubly hard to do it. She was suspended for two weeks her senior year because she climbed to the top of the town water tank and attached the school flag to it.' He returned the photograph to its place.

Annie was just a little surprised at the admiring light in the lawyer's eyes.

He reached into the cut-glass bowl for a handful of jelly

beans and popped several in his mouth. He pushed the dish toward them, but they shook their heads. He continued, a bit indistinctly: 'Courtney was an excellent student, both here and at the university. She majored in archeology, got her pri­vate pilot's license, and spent summers at digs in Peru. Delia and Carleton never enjoyed