Darkest Journey by Heather Graham Page A

when it’s in port—”
    Charlie broke off. Something in Ethan’s face had changed. She stared at him for a moment, realizing that the police were suspicious of reenactors, which meant they were suspicious of her friends on the film.
    Worse, she could tell that they were also suspicious of everyone involved with the Journey —including her father. And the way Ethan was looking at her...
    â€œNo! Oh, no, no, no. You can’t possibly think my father had anything to do with this in any way,” Charlie said.
    â€œI don’t,” Ethan said.
    â€œOf course not,” she said. But something in his eyes, an evasiveness she had never seen from him before, told her that he wasn’t telling her the whole truth.
    â€œBut there are those who do.”
    She froze, staring at him in shock.
    He took a deep breath and said, “There’s no one person who’s a prime suspect at the moment. What we know is that Farrell Hickory and Albion Corley had some kind of a disagreement when they were working that reenactment and your father stepped in. From what I understand, it was heated, and he wasn’t pleased with either of them, but in the end he got them calmed down. He was also seen at the restaurant, having a meal with them.”
    â€œYou don’t kill someone because you’ve had an argument!” Charlie insisted vehemently. “And certainly not if you ate with them after!”
    â€œNo, and as I said, I don’t believe your father had anything to do with this.”
    â€œBut you—you don’t even like my father,” Charlie said.
    â€œCharlie, I don’t dis like him. He’s the one who doesn’t like me . But whatever our feelings, they have nothing to do with the situation. Right now, I’m floundering in the dark. I’m looking for motive, a reason why the killer targeted these two men. I’d hoped if we came out here together, we might find some clue, that if a dead man did call your name...”
    â€œYou know I didn’t make it up.”
    â€œI know. I’d hoped he might come back again,” he said quietly.
    Who was he hoping might come back? she wondered. A Confederate cavalryman? Or had it been Farrell Hickory himself who’d called to her?
    Charlie stood there silently for a minute, then shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she said. “No one came back.”
    â€œWe have two groups of people to consider,” Ethan told her. “Reenactors, including the people on your film, and everyone who was aboard the Journey the day of the fight.”
    She stared at him, but night was falling in earnest, making it hard for her to read his expression.
    â€œLet me get you back to your car,” he told her.
    â€œYes, thank you,” she said tightly.
    He turned away, and she followed right behind him, then paused to look back.
    Right where she had been standing, something seemed to be taking form in the air, a deeper shadow forming against the darkness.
    And then she saw him. The Confederate cavalry officer she had seen before, Anson McKee.
    He looked at her gravely, then pointed toward the river.
    Seconds later he was gone, leaving Charlie to wonder if she had really seen him at all, or if he had been only a shift in the light or a haunting figment of her imagination.
    â€œCharlie?” Ethan turned back to her.
    â€œSorry,” she said tersely. “Coming.”
    She had seen a ghost. She knew she had seen him. And she knew she should have told Ethan—after all, he was here because she believed in his ability to find the truth.
    But the ghost had pointed to the river.
    And she knew exactly where he had been directing her to look....
    To the Journey .
    * * *
    Ethan’s family home was outside the historic downtown section of St. Francisville. It was, however, equally as old. Someone back in his family’s history had raised horses. They’d largely been sold or conscripted by the Civil War,