The Uninvited

The door to the observation room opened just then, and a middle-aged man with fine, intelligent eyes and a bloodhound’s weary jowls walked in. Tyler had already met him; he was Detective Jenson, assigned to the “suspicious” death.

“All the paperwork for the evening is complete. Ms. Leigh may leave whenever you’re ready. Agent Montague, you wanted to go to the house tonight?” Jenson asked.

Tyler nodded. “I’d like to get in while the evidence is still fresh.”

Whatever Jenson thought of the “special” FBI unit that had been brought in, he didn’t let his feelings show. “The crime scene people have just finished up,” he said. “They’ve been in there for about six hours collecting everything they can, but, of course, the house is a tourist location so they have hundreds if not thousands of prints. I’ll get you Ms. Leigh’s key to the house and the code to bypass the security system,” he told Tyler. “And, needless to say, we’d appreciate it if you shared any findings with us immediately.”

“I can’t find anything without the help of the police,” Tyler said, “so, yes, of course.”

Judging by his quick smile, Jenson seemed to like that. “You’re free to speak with Ms. Leigh.” He glanced at Adam. “And get her home.”

Adam thanked him. They left the observation area and entered the interrogation room.

Allison Leigh sat up stiffly, regarding Tyler with narrowed eyes that gentled as she looked at Adam Harrison.

The man just had a way about him.

“Allison, I’d like you to meet Agent Tyler Montague. He’s here to investigate the situation—and the Tarleton-Dandridge House,” Adam said.

Allison Leigh gave Tyler a long cool assessment. “The house?” she asked skeptically. “The house caused Julian to slit his throat on his bayonet?”

“There’ve been a number of incidents at the house, Ms. Leigh,” Tyler said.

Allison turned to Adam. “He believes he can arrest the ghost of a Revolutionary soldier?”

Tyler answered. “No, Ms. Leigh. But the number of strange occurrences at the house, especially in recent years, suggest that someone who’s alive and well is playing deadly pranks. Actually, we’re here to see you home if you’d like.”

She frowned, and Tyler thought her hostility toward him had relaxed somewhat. “You’re not going to ask me to go through everything that happened again?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather you went through the house with me. If you’re up to it, that is. Otherwise, we’ll take you home, as I said.”

She stared at him, then blinked. He could see her mind working, and it was fascinating to watch the emotions that flashed through her beautiful if red-rimmed eyes. She’d been up for hours; she’d just lost a colleague, possibly a friend. She’d been in the interrogation room forever. She wanted a drink or simply to collapse for a while and forget the horror she’d witnessed.

But he also knew that she understood why he needed to see the house now, as quickly after the event as possible. She didn’t want to go back and see where her friend had died, but she understood that anything that might be discovered would be most easily found before too much time had elapsed.

She lifted her hands. “Of course,” she said with a nod. “Are you coming?” she asked Adam, her voice hopeful.

“If you wish, my dear.”

“Please.”

Tyler admired the effect Adam had on others. He knew that Harrison had once had a son, Josh, and that Josh had been killed in an accident at a young age. Josh had apparently been born with a sixth sense, and when he’d died, Adam had spent years trying to reach him. Tyler had recently heard that the father could finally talk to the son, although Adam didn’t usually have the ability to communicate with the dead.

What he did have was an uncanny ability to connect with the living.

Tyler definitely wished he had a little more of that ability himself. He wasn’t sure why he seemed to lack it. Maybe it was his height, which people often considered intimidating, since he stood at about six-five. From the time he was a kid, he’d wanted nothing but to be a Texas Ranger and now, although he loved the change in what he was doing, he wondered if he carried some kind of aura from the years he’d spent working in tough areas of Texas. He didn’t know if it was his appearance or his no-nonsense demeanor, but people seemed to find him imposing, and it always took him a while to convince them that he wasn’t a swaggering, gun-toting cowboy.

“Well, then, let’s get going,” Adam said. “I know you must be emotionally drained, my dear, but we’ll get you home soon.”

“That’s it? I can just walk out?”

“That’s it.”

She stood, a bit clumsily. Tyler saw that she was a respectable height for a woman, maybe five-eight or nine, and that she wore the historic dress exceptionally well. She seemed fragile for a second, as if she’d been sitting too long and couldn’t quite find her feet. She didn’t shake him off when he touched her, but she said regally, “Thank you. I’m fine.”

He released her elbow and they exited the station. Detective Jenson was waiting for them at the precinct door. “Thank you, Ms. Leigh. Thank you for your patience with us. And please accept my deepest sympathies.”

She nodded. “If I can do anything, provide any more information…” She paused. They’d already kept her long enough to glean anything she was likely to know.

Tyler’s SUV was just outside the station and he nodded toward it. “We’ll get you home as quickly as we can,” he promised.

Adam politely ushered Allison into the passenger seat and took the rear himself, insisting that even at his age, he’d show courtesy to a lady until he keeled over.

Although he was silent during the drive, Allison began to speak. “It seemed like such an ordinary day,” she murmured.

“There were a lot of tours?” Tyler asked her.

“Yes, it was busy, which is good. We work hard to make the tours interesting and informative, and to keep the house sustaining itself.”

Tyler asked a few questions about historical tours as he drove, trying to put her at ease. They reached the house, parking in the adjacent lot.

Maybe it was fitting that there’d be a full moon that night. The house seemed large and alive in the light, encased by the shadows surrounding it.

By day, he thought, it was probably a handsome Colonial house, built to withstand the ages. But now…

Now it seemed as if it were waiting.

There were warnings posted by the police. No Trespassing! Invasion of the Premises in Any Manner Will Result in Immediate Arrest!

The warnings covered the sign beyond the podium that usually advertised the property’s hours of admission and the prices of tours.

“There’s—there’s tape all over the house.” Allison spoke blankly, obviously too tired to be shocked.

“Yes, your chairman has ordered the house closed for a few weeks, long enough for a real investigation,” Adam said.

Tyler slipped a knife from his jacket pocket to cut through the tape. He keyed in the code on the gate alarm.

“A real investigation?” Allison repeated.

“Yes,” Tyler said. “We’re trying to find out if the security’s been breached and determine whether there’s another access. Also, if there’s someone who knows the code and has dangerous concepts of history, dangerous beliefs about this house. That’s why it merits investigation.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed again as she studied him. “You’re a ghost hunter.”

“I’m not a ghost hunter—I’m an agent,” Tyler said. “Hunting ghosts would be a rather useless effort.” He forced a smile. “They only appear when they choose to. Inviting conversation—now, that’s another thing.”

Leaving her to Adam, he strolled up the walkway. He wanted to spend some time in the house alone.

At the front door he once again slit the tape before typing in the alarm code and using the key he’d received from Detective Jenson to let himself in. When he entered the foyer, it felt as if he’d stepped back in time.