Darkest Journey by Heather Graham

me?” Charlie asked.
    â€œThat would be it, yes. But afterward, you’ve got to stay out of the investigation,” he told her firmly.
    She’d been walking briskly alongside him, but now she stopped abruptly.
    â€œYou said it yourself. You’re only on this case because of me,” she reminded him.
    â€œYes, and I’m not taking chances with your safety again.”
    â€œWe didn’t take chances. You called the cops. We waited for them to get there. It was the right thing to do. Period. No one could have known the killer was going to come back to find the bracelet,” she said emphatically.
    â€œAnd no one can deny the terror we felt when we saw the bastard with his knife out,” Ethan said.
    â€œYou weren’t terrified. You always planned on being a cop, and you knew just what to do,” she said.
    â€œI was terrified, because I saw him coming at you with a knife,” Ethan said quietly. “And I was lucky he was nothing but a skinny coward who relied on the fact that his victims were weaponless and not as strong as he was. I was a fool kid. I just jumped at him, and he went down.”
    â€œYes, and even though you didn’t plan to, you stopped a serial killer,” she said firmly. “I found Farrell Hickory. I didn’t start out the day wanting to find a body. It happened. I’m part of this.”
    â€œDo you have a death wish or something?” Ethan demanded.
    â€œNo. Do you?”
    He let out a sigh of aggravation and walked ahead of her. Charlie followed. If he wanted to drive, he could drive.
    He opened the passenger side door for her, and she slid in. They didn’t speak as he headed toward the bluff.
    They still didn’t speak when he stopped the car. She hopped out quickly and headed toward the place where she had found the body. Trampled crime-scene tape remained, but the crime-scene techs had finished their work and the site was deserted.
    â€œHere, obviously. Right here,” she said quietly.
    She stood still. There was a gentle breeze blowing that high up, and it was the time right before true darkness fell. The nearby trees seemed to sway and move like great dark beings with a life of their own. Traces of sunset remained, thin, quickly fading streaks of color in the sky. She stood there and relished the sensual movement of the breeze across her skin.
    Ethan walked over and stood beside her, but she knew he wasn’t feeling the breeze. He looked toward the area with the unhallowed graves, and then beyond, toward the church.
    â€œSo he was killed right here,” he murmured.
    â€œCould the killer have brought the body here?” Charlie suggested.
    Ethan shook his head. “Died right here.” Then he added quietly, “The ME could tell by the amount of blood in the ground.” He hesitated. “There was a lot—he was stabbed in the heart. Thing is, what the hell was he doing up here? In uniform?”
    â€œHe wasn’t part of the movie,” Charlie said. “And we’d been out here for several hours before I...before I found him.”
    â€œHe told people the night before that he had a meeting, but he didn’t say where. We do know he was killed with something long and sharply pointed, like a bayonet.”
    â€œAre you suggesting that his meeting was with someone involved with the film? Someone with access to props?” she asked, trying to keep a defensive note out of her voice.
    â€œI’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying that both of these men put on their reenactment uniforms, went out to meet with someone and wound up dead. I’m trying to think of reasons for why they were in their uniforms. If you can come up with any, please feel free to share.”
    â€œPeople are always doing things in uniform around here. There are historical reenactments around every corner, living-history plantations... There’s the Journey , the riverboat my dad works on, and