didn’t seem to be aware; she wasn’t accustomed to waiting for that feeling that was like catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of one’s eye.
“You can go out the back,” she was saying. “If you cut through the forest it’s dark, but there’s a decent moon out tonight.”
“That’s fine. That’s the way I came. My nocturnal vision’s pretty good, and then there’s this modern thing called a flashlight. I always have one with me,” he told her, offering a smile.
She didn’t smile in return. Instead, she looked at him gravely. “Be careful.”
“I’m not the person anyone’s going to be after,” he said.
“Oh? Really? They all know you’re an agent. What if the killer’s afraid you’ll be snooping around and then he wants you out of the picture?”
Maybe she wasn’t so naive.
“But I’m also a big guy who works out, has had training—and carries a big gun,” he said. “That does make me safer.”
“Hmm. All right, I’ll go along with that,” she conceded.
“By tomorrow night I’ll see that you at least have some mace. Friday night, we’ll both do the camping trip.”
“Camping and Ping-Pong,” she said.
“Exactly. Ping-Pong is a great way to get to know the people who hang out at the Horse Farm. And camping will give me a glimpse of a lot more. If we’re going to find out who did this to Marcus Danby, we need to find out why.”
“Okay,” she said. “That makes sense. Come on, I’ll walk you out back.”
Olivia led him through the kitchen, the dining room, something that now seemed to be a family room and, finally, out the back door. She was polite and agreeable.
“Make sure everything’s locked down tight,” he told her. “If someone’s determined to get in, they’ll figure out a way. But it’s best to make it as hard for them as possible. That gives you more time to call the cops or come up with an escape route yourself.”
“I will lock everything,” she promised.
He had the feeling that the minute he was gone, she’d be on the phone calling Malachi and asking him if the agent he’d sent was really capable of getting anything done.
* * *
Olivia had never been afraid in her own house before. Now it was inhabited by a ghost who appeared out of nowhere whenever he chose. And on top of that, she was worried that someone might try to break in while she was asleep.
It was still early. She returned to the kitchen, ready to forage through the refrigerator for something to eat. Instead, she walked around downstairs and then upstairs, closing and locking windows. When she was done, she checked the front door again, followed by the back door—even though she’d just locked it behind Dustin Blake.
There was nothing else to lock.
She returned to the kitchen once more only to freeze, startled.
Marcus was back.
“Thank you very much. You made me look like an idiot,” she said.
“I had to see who it was and make a judgment call,” Marcus told her. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he knew I was here.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve walked around the Horse Farm. I even waved my hands and tried to blow cold breath at people. They can’t see me. But this guy—I think he may be the real deal.”
“What are you talking about? He didn’t tell me he saw you.”
“I didn’t say he saw me. I said he knew I was around. I didn’t intend to be seen. Not yet.”
“Why not?” Olivia demanded, annoyed with him.
“I had to be sure he’s the one,” Marcus said.
“The one what?”
“Who could really help. I mean, if they’d just sent you a facts guy, we’d be in trouble. But I think he does believe you, and I know he can see and feel and sense what’s there—and what’s not.”
“You might have introduced yourself at the end, Marcus. And how will all these abilities actually make a difference? You weren’t killed by a ghost—were you?”
“No,” he said. “Someone flesh-and-blood killed me. But...now I’m sorry I asked for help. I want the killer caught and the truth exposed, but I hadn’t—well, I hadn’t recognized the danger I was putting you in.”
Now Marcus was telling her she should be afraid, too!
“So,” Marcus continued, “you have the agent here. He’ll investigate, and you just need to keep quiet from now on. If they say I fell back into drugs, let them say it.”
“Isn’t it too late?” she asked him. “They’re already saying it. And move, please. You’re blocking the refrigerator.”
“I can’t really block it,” he said, but he moved aside.
She reached in and brought out a head of lettuce, shaking it at him. “And quit appearing and disappearing.”
“All right. I’d, um, give you a hand if I could. Since I can’t...I’m going to go prowl around the Horse Farm and see what I can learn.”
Olivia set the lettuce on the cutting board and looked at him. She’d been about to warn him to be careful. She managed to refrain.
“Marcus, why do you think someone wanted you dead?”
“Let’s see. I wasn’t blackmailing anyone. I wasn’t sleeping with anyone’s wife. I wasn’t dealing drugs and I hadn’t robbed any banks. I’ll be damned if I know, Liv.”
“The property?”
“The Horse Farm is nonprofit, and while the management remains in the hands of Aaron Bentley, there’s nothing to be gained by my death. Oh, well, there are specific bequests in the will, but nothing anyone would kill for. Anyway, I’m off.”
“Are you coming back?” she asked him. “I’m so jumpy I actually wouldn’t mind having you around.”
“Keep everything locked up, like the fed told you.”
“But will you be back?”
He smiled. “Of course I’ll be back. I intend to watch out for you through the night.”
Sammy whined and Marcus leaned down to pat his head. Olivia thought the dog couldn’t possibly feel his hand.
And yet it was as if he did.
Then, just like Dustin Blake, he left through the back.
Except
