Slave Graves (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 1) by Thomas Hollyday Page B

back to the southern members of the family. The Terments never lost anything in that war.”
    “The money they had invested in slavery?”
    “They sold most all their slaves to cotton farmers down in Mississippi in the last five years before the war broke out. Like people sell out their shares before the stock market goes down, that’s all it meant to them folks.”
    “Jake is the last of one of the oldest families in this part of the United States.”
    “Yes. That he is. The Terments were here in the early days. Two brothers. One of them had the money and the other one worked for him. The one with the money, his name was Henry Terment, went back to England, got sick and died. The brother that was here, Richard Terment, the ancestor of Jake Terment and his father, was the sole heir and inherited the money. Then Richard started buying up all the land around River Sunday and on the island, all he could get his hands on. He was the colonel of a local militia, kind of a paid private army.” The Pastor smiled. “His money could not buy one thing though. Did you notice that the island is called Allingham Island?”
    “You’d think that it would be called Terment Island,” observed Frank.
    “That’s right, but the Allingham family settled the island long before the Terments arrived. Then, the Allinghams died and left the island to their infant son. The Terment who inherited all his brother’s money, well, he somehow became the trustee for that Allingham infant. The child died and Richard Terment bought the Allingham property at auction. The Maryland colonial legislature investigated, it was so shady, but Terment bought them off. Turns out though that the colonial Maryland governor had more money and friends in England than Terment did. The governor wouldn’t let him change the name of the island. Terment got the land but didn’t get the name. It remained on the maps as Allingham Island. Terment owned all that land but he had to call the land by someone else’s name. Knowing the Terments as I do, that must have aggravated them over the years. Jake has a lot of that family allegiance. I think that’s why he named the new town Terment Town. Jake probably hopes that the place will become known under the town name and that will get rid of the island name forever. Then he will have accomplished something his ancestor couldn’t do. Hard to believe that today a man like Jake even cares about his heritage, but he does. Probably the only thing he cares about. Yessir, I made a life study of that family, so I know Terments.”
    “Your name is Allingham, Pastor,” said Maggie.
    “My great grandfather was freed in the will of a man named Allingham. He also was given a small farm. His name was Jefferson too. When he was a slave that was the only name he had. After he was free, he took the name of his former owner.”
    The Pastor smiled. “Of course, I don’t recollect any white Allinghams would own to being kin to that branch of their family.”
    Maggie walked over and looked down at where the Pastor was digging. She stepped down beside him and squatted, her bare feet backed into one corner of the small pit.
    “Pastor, I think you’ve found something.” She worked for a few minutes, switching from trowel to paint brush. Bones appeared in the soil.
    “Looks like the skeleton of a human adult. Frank, come take a look.” Together, they worked swiftly, methodically. The skeleton was on its side, the skull was pressed to the chest, knees up to the skull. There were small patches of faded but still discernible dark blue cloth still attached to the bones and in the soil.
    “A man. See the torso bones,” said Frank.
    “Likely Caucasian,” Maggie said. “The nose cavity. It’s hard to tell though. He may be a black man. Maybe one of your slave graves, Pastor.”
    “Yes,” said the Pastor, excitement in his voice.
    “There’s another thing, though, Pastor. If it’s a grave, especially African, there ought to be some