Babe in the Woods
For the time being, though, she could simply put all of that aside for an hour and enjoy a ride on Cogar.
Joey was drawing another diagram of a garden in the dirt, but he promised her he wouldn’t get hot working. She winked at him as she went on to the barn and saddled the big gray. Cogar was so tall, she almost needed a mounting block to get on. Almost.
When she was in the saddle, he moved out willingly, as eager for the ride as she was. As soon as she was in the woods, she let her troubles slip away. They walked until he was warm, moved into a trot, then eased into a ground-covering gallop. Her mind slipped to fantasy.
As a young girl, she’d often fantasized about Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest. That’s what the woods around Blackthorn reminded her of. At any moment the band of merry robbers could step out of the woods.
She smiled at a childhood memory: she’d been torn between wanting to be Robin—or Maid Marian. Robin seemed to have the most fun, but Marian was certainly beautiful. Those thoughts led her to Dru. He was a handsome man with a casual grace and easy confidence that she found delightful. Since he was so secure in who he was, she didn’t feel any pressure from him to change who she was. Of course, they were just getting to know each other. In the beginning, Mike had been easygoing, too. It was only toward the end that he began to act as though her hopes and dreams didn’t matter. What he wanted was the only important thing.
As if her thoughts precipitated it, a dark cloud covered the sun, casting the woods in shadow. Cogar had slowed to a walk, and Rebecca felt a little foolish as chill bumps danced over her arms.
Cogar’s head lifted, his ears pricked forward. Then she heard it. The sound of a baby crying. It was the eeriest thing she’d ever heard, rising and falling in desperate bursts from somewhere in the woods. Everything that Aurelia had told her came back to her.
Yvonne Harris and Randall Levert had been playing tape recordings of a crying baby in the woods of Blackthorn in an attempt to frighten Aurelia off the estate. And then Yvonne had taken it several steps further. She’d murdered Randall’s mother, Lottie, and tried to pin the murder on Aurelia by planting evidence. She’d also betrayed her co-conspirator by planting evidence against him, too. She’d intended to get both Aurelia and Randall out of the way.
Fortunately, Yvonne’s plans had been foiled. Aurelia, though charged, had been found innocent of Lottie Levert’s murder. Yvonne had been found guilty of Lottie’s death and was in the state penitentiary.
Randall, shocked that his partner in crime had murdered his own mother in an attempt to frame him, had turned state’s evidence against Yvonne. He, too, was serving time.
So why was a baby crying in the woods at Blackthorn, in some eerie repetition of past events?
Cogar stepped forward, as if he wanted to go into the woods. Rebecca reined him in. She sat and listened, the sound of the baby almost breaking her heart. But she wasn’t going into the woods. There were trespassers on Blackthorn and she was smart enough not to walk into a trap. If someone was playing tricks on her, she wouldn’t fall for them. Instead, she’d go straight back to the cottage and call Dru.
She had no belief that the baby crying in the woods was real. Therefore she didn’t feel it necessary to try and find it. Nudging Cogar into a trot, she headed back to the cottage and a telephone.
DRU FROWNED as he hung up the receiver. It wasn’t what he called justice, but then, he’d learned that when a witness cut a deal, lots of things were possible. He stared at the notes he’d made on a pad.
Randall Levert had been released from prison two days before based on the deal he’d cut with the prosecutor in testifying against Yvonne.
Dru wasn’t happy with that information, but he knew that Randall hadn’t been involved in his mother’s murder. What he’d done was attempt to frighten Aurelia into selling Blackthorn. And he’d used poor judgment in teaming up with Yvonne Harris.
And it would seem that he was using poor judgment once again. Dru stood up. He had no doubt that the sudden “intruder” at Blackthorn was none other than Randall Levert. But why Randall would risk losing his probation was what troubled Dru. He was either stupid or crazy, and both of those mindsets could be very dangerous under the right circumstances.
Dru drove out to Blackthorn and caught sight of Rebecca trotting out of the woods on a huge gray horse. The sight was breathtaking. He’d never been overly interested in horses, but the sight of Rebecca astride the gray made the sport seem infinitely more fascinating.
The expression on her face, though, told another story. He was out of the patrol car and at her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a baby crying in the woods,” she said, her voice trembling.
Dru realized she was more unnerved than she wanted him to know. His hand went to her knee in a gesture of comfort. “That stands to reason. They released Randall Levert on probation two days ago,” he said, “just about the time someone started trespassing on Blackthorn property. What surprises me is that he’s stupid enough to try the same stunt twice in a row.”
“Why is he doing this?” Rebecca asked, and Dru was relieved to hear anxiety beginning to turn to anger.
“That’s a good question. He’s risking real jail time for this stunt.”
“You’re positive the person doing this is Randall Levert?”
Dru considered the question. His gut told him it was Randall, but there wasn’t any evidence. “Fairly certain, but that doesn’t mean I’ll rule out other possibilities. What I am going to do is pick Randall up for questioning. If this is his idea of revenge, I’ll make him understand he’s playing a foolish game with severe consequences.”
“I’m sorry this thing has just…exploded,” Rebecca said. “First the man in the woods, then Joey, then the boat thing, and now the baby is back. I feel responsible for this in some way.” She started to swing from the saddle.
Dru found his hands around her waist steadying her as she dropped to the ground. He half expected her to step away from him. Instead, she turned so that she was in the circle of his arms. Her blue eyes held his, and he let his hands remain on her waist.
“You have nothing to do with Randall and whatever sick plan he’s hatched,” Dru said, his gaze slipping to her mouth. It was full and looked soft. He imagined what it would feel like to kiss her. He wanted to. He watched her swallow and realized that she, too, was thinking of a kiss.
“Will you really come by tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I’d feel better if I kept an eye on things.”
“I’ll make dinner for you,” she said. “I’m a pretty good cook.”
“A woman with endless talents,” he said, knowing that the moment for the kiss had passed. But there would be other opportunities in the coming night, when he wasn’t on duty and when Brett Gibson and the Batson girl weren’t standing at the edge of the clearing watching them.
CHAPTER FOUR
REBECCA BASTED the turkey breast for the last time and turned the oven off. She’d made a light salad and bought some fresh pears and blueberries. It was only May, but it was summertime in Natchez, far too hot for a heavy meal.
She checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror one more time, a little amused at herself for the mascara and lipstick she’d applied. Working out-of-doors, she normally didn’t wear makeup. But there was something about Dru Colson that reminded her all too much of her femininity. Rebecca had tried on several outfits before she settled on one—atypical behavior yet again. She was getting into her “courting finery,” as her Aunt Mildred would have said.
That, in and of itself, was a minor miracle. After her breakup with Mike, she’d never expected to find herself in a position of wanting to attract a man. She didn’t dress to repel men, she just didn’t think about it. But Dru Colson was different. He made her think about her appearance and his reaction to her. Surprisingly, it was nice to wonder what effect a sleeveless, sexy blouse would have on a man. Somehow, Dru made it seem so natural.
He was different from other men she’d known. Or so he seemed, she reminded herself. She hardly knew him. She didn’t want to find herself out of the frying pan and into the fire. She was going to take things slowly.
She heard the sound of his car and felt her heart stutter. She ordered herself to take deep breaths, to go slow. Her heartbeat was accelerating and she could feel anticipation in every inch of her body. So much for speed limits. But when she opened the door of Joey’s apartment to his knock, she was in perfect control.
“I drove around the perimeter of the property and everything seemed okay.” His eyes crinkled into a smile as his gaze swept down her body, leaving a burning tingle behind. “You look lovely. And something smells wonderful.”
“Thanks.” Desire swept through her. “You look very handsome yourself.” And he did, with his dark hair combed back and his clean-shaven, chiseled jaw so lean and tanned. There was no denying it. Dru was a well-built man. What her Aunt Mildred would call a Tilt-a-Whirl, so named after the dizzying amusement park ride.
“Joey should be here soon,” Rebecca said. “He was delighted to let me use the new oven. I think even Joey gets tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“I do,” Joey said, coming in the door with a grin. His head was still bandaged, but he had a great appetite and said he felt fine.
“I checked the horses,” he said, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I think we should let them out in the pasture and not keep them in the barn tonight.”
Rebecca knew Joey was afraid someone would try to burn the barn again. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “We’ll turn Cogar and Mariah out in the pasture right beside the barn and Diable in his paddock. You can hear them all night long.”
“That does sound like a good plan,” Dru agreed. “Joey, have you thought any more about who hit you?”
He nodded. “But I didn’t see him. I’ve tried and tried to remember, but he was hiding and then he hit me and I fell.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Dru reassured Joey as he glanced at Rebecca.
She nodded slightly. Both she and Dru had agreed that Joey needed to know that Randall Levert was out of jail on probation. She stood beside Joey’s chair as Dru told him.
“He’ll come back here,” Joey said, and he turned to look up at Rebecca with worry in his eyes. “He’s a mean man. Why did they let him out of jail? He wants to hurt me and he’ll hurt you, too.”
“Randall Levert won’t be bothering anyone if he has a lick of sense. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow,” Dru said. “I can’t guarantee that he won’t come here, but I can make him understand that he’ll be in serious trouble if he does.”
“He was so mad,” Joey said, his voice tight with worry. “He wanted everyone to think Aurelia had killed his mother. Then when it was Yvonne, he was even madder.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, putting a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “But we’re all here together. Remember, Brett and his crew are camping by the burial mound. I’m here and Dru is going to stay around. Randall won’t come here. There are too many people on the property now.”
“I hope not.” Joey didn’t sound reassured. “He’s mean.”
“Joey, I want you to keep your eyes and ears open,” Dru said. “If you see anything funny, you call me, okay?”
“Aurelia and Marcus gave me a cell phone,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket. “So I can call for help any time I need it.”
Dru examined the phone that Joey held out to him. “That’s a great idea. So you call if you see or hear anything, okay? You can help me protect Rebecca.”
“And the horses,” Joey said.
“And the horses,” Rebecca agreed.
She put the food on the table and they ate, chatting about Joey’s garden and how Brett and his crew had unearthed an intact vessel that contained what appeared to be even more valuable artifacts. The fact that the earthen vessel was still unbroken after so many years was a minor miracle in itself.
“John Ittawasa is coming tomorrow,” Rebecca said. “I called him and reported the find, just as Aurelia promised we would do. I’m afraid it’s going to be another battle with Brett.” She sighed. “John wants to take the artifacts back to Philadelphia, Mississippi, and have them documented at the Choctaw Indian Reservation. Brett wants to keep them here so he can study them and perhaps do an exhibit at a later date. I see both points of view.”
“If John documents them, perhaps he’ll allow Brett to use them later, when he has a more complete collection,” Dru said.
“Oh, that voice of reason just isn’t heard in the heat of the argument. Believe me, I’ve tried to reason with Brett. He’s totally in a snit.”
“Who has the final say?” Dru asked.
Rebecca looked into his eyes. “I do.”
“What are you going to do?” Dru asked.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“May I offer some advice?” Dru asked.
“I’d love it, though I can’t promise to take it.” She would be glad to hear advice from an unbiased party, especially one as level-headed as Dru.
“I wouldn’t keep the artifacts on Blackthorn property no matter who ultimately has control of them. You’ve been having trouble. It would be a crying shame if someone came in and destroyed these artifacts in some act of vengeance or revenge.”
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dru. That’s the best reasoning I’ve heard. You make perfect sense, and I’ll make sure the artifacts are put somewhere safe. Like a bank vault or something, first thing in the morning.”
“How valuable are these things?” Dru asked.
“Depends on who you ask. So little is known about the Mound Builders that this may be the definitive site. They lived along the Mississippi River, and there were more burial mounds until the river broke the levee in 1927 and flooded most of the delta. A lot of history, both Native American and early settler, was lost then. If this is the most preserved site, then the artifacts are quite valuable from a historical perspective.”
“What about jewels and gold and things like that?”
“Not really a part of the Mound Builders’ interest. The Aztecs and Toltecs in South America actually made gold jewelry and adorned themselves with silver and gold. Around here there weren’t a lot of precious metals or jewels.”
“So what’s the monetary value of this site?”
“I’m not sure that’s easy to explain. Most people think only of jewels and precious metals when it comes to tombs. The pyramids in Egypt were filled with material wealth. This site is different. Brett has schooled me well,” she said, giving an apologetic grin. “This site is about information, history, preservation of a site sacred to Native American Indians. And,” she got a teasing look in her eyes, “Brett says there’s some indication that Ponce de Leon had begun to believe that the fountain of youth was somewhere along the great Mississippi River.”
“Ah, the old fountain-of-youth lure.”
“Now to find evidence of that would be valuable information. Monetarily valuable information.”
“Even more valuable would be to find the fountain of youth,” Dru teased. “Can you imagine? You could charge five dollars an ounce and become a gazillionaire overnight.”
“Not me. Aurelia and Marcus,” Rebecca reminded him. “I’m just the hired help and I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with Brett about that artifact.”
Joey touched Rebecca’s arm. “Brett said it was wrong to give the old bowl to the Indian,” Joey said. “He said he wasn’t going to do it.”
Rebecca felt a flush touch her cheeks. Brett talked big, but when it came time to yield up the artifacts, he would do so. He was a troublemaker, but he wasn’t an idiot. Still, she didn’t like the fact that he made her look foolish in front of people. He constantly challenged her authority and her decisions.
“I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in what Brett says,” Rebecca said easily. “All talk, no action.”
She cleared the table and then served the orange sherbet she’d bought.
“Cool,” Joey said, grinning. “Maybe I could grow some oranges.”
“Maybe,” she said because she didn’t know if he could or not. The Natchez winters could get pretty cold.
“Strawberries might be better,” Dru suggested.
“Yeah, strawberries.” Joey stood up, his bowl empty. “I’m going to draw out some beds for strawberries. I know just where to put them.”
He hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Dru and Rebecca alone. Together they cleaned up, working as a team as though they’d been doing it for years.
“Shall I walk you home?” Dru asked once they’d finished. His question sounded as if he was about fourteen years old.
“Only if you carry my books,” Rebecca replied.
Chuckling softly, they left the apartment and started walking down the drive to the old caretaker’s cottage. Rebecca was hyperaware of Dru. Though he didn’t touch her, she felt electric.
The night was magnificent. Pale moonlight filtered through the old oaks draped with Spanish moss. There was a soft murmur, which Rebecca took to be the river. Around them the night had fallen silent, peaceful, serene.
They were almost at the caretaker’s cottage, both still silent, when the sound of a crying baby seemed to come from nowhere—and everywhere.
“Go inside,” Dru said softly, indicating the caretaker’s cottage. “Lock the door, Rebecca.”
“But—”
“No buts. Someone’s out here.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said, suddenly aware of the gun that had materialized in his hand.
“No, stay inside and lock the door. Don’t come out.”
He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. She slipped away from his side, over the porch and into the cottage. She knew enough not to flip on the light as she watched Dru disappear into the shadows of the trees, a shadow himself, but one moving fast and holding a deadly weapon.
MORE THAN DANGER, Dru felt total aggravation. He had no doubt that Randall Levert was behind all of this. Randall. A total idiot. The man had skated out of prison because of his willingness to rat out his partner. Now that he’d gained his freedom, he should be smart enough to stay away from Blackthorn and his foolish pranks.
Dru slipped into the woods. It was almost impossible to tell what direction the crying was coming from. Sound echoed and reverberated against the huge old trees. Pausing to listen, he thought he heard someone running fast through the underbrush.
He gave chase, ignoring the tiny limbs that whipped against his arms and face. He kept his attention focused solely on the sounds of the running person.
He thought he’d lost the runner, but then he heard a twig snap to his right. The intruder was much closer than Dru had thought. He bolted right just as someone ran out from beneath a huge wild magnolia. The bright moonlight came through a hole in the canopy of tree limbs, illuminating the runner’s pale shirt.
“Police!” Dru called. “Halt! Police! Stop, or I’ll shoot.”
Damn! The guy took off sprinting again.
Dru turned on the speed, his own body skimming over the fallen limbs and trees and tangle of briars. He’d been a long-distance track runner in high school, and he’d kept up his running habits as part of his regimen. Although the woods were an aggravation, he could see that he was gaining on the man.
“Halt!” he called again. “I’m going to shoot.”
When the man gave no indication of slacking his pace, Dru shot. There was an explosion of bark just above the runner’s head and the man came to a screeching halt. By the time Dru got to him, he was standing with his hands over his head, his chest heaving.
The crying of the baby had ceased.
“You’re under arrest for trespassing, among other things,” Dru said as he walked up and patted the man down.
“I’m not trespassing,” the man said. “Who the hell are you?”
“Sheriff Dru Colson, and you’re under arrest. These woods are private property. They’re also not the place for foolish practical jokes involving crying babies.”
“I know, man, that nearly freaked me out. But I’m not trespassing. I work for Brett Gibson. I’m his dig coordinator.”
Dru frowned and stepped back. “You’re what?”
“The dig coordinator. At a dig, a lot of different sites get going sometimes. Someone has to coordinate all the levels, mark all the artifacts that are dug up and generally make sure the different strata of the dig are marked and examined. You know, it’s happened before that someone planted valuable artifacts in a mound, hoping to claim some kind of government benefit. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Dru hesitated. The man sounded as if he knew what he was talking about. But it didn’t make sense that he’d run. “Why did you run?”
“Man, I thought you were the dude who’s been sneaking around. I was trying to get ahead so I could ambush you and tackle you, but you were too fast.”
“What’s your name?”
“Winston West. Folks call me Double-U. Uh, can I put my hands down now? I’ve got identification in my pocket.”
“I can’t see it here anyway,” Dru said, motioning him to put his hands down. “We’ll go back to camp and see if Brett will vouch for you.”
“Good idea, man. I was afraid you were gonna plug me full of holes.”
Dru cast a glance back through the woods. He’d caught the man he was chasing, but it didn’t seem to be the right man. Dru had the distinct sense that someone was watching him. Watching and waiting for an opportunity to do something bad. Something that would certainly harm Rebecca.
“Did you see anyone else in the woods?” Dru asked.
“No. I just came over here to, you know, relieve myself. We’d been drinking a few beers. Anyway, I heard that baby. I almost jumped out of my pants. So I started running towards the sound, thinking it was a real baby. Then I got to thinking a real baby would be exhausted and stop crying, even for a few breaths. So then I decided to try to find whatever was playing the sound. That’s when I heard you and I thought you might be the guy responsible. Like I said, I meant to run ahead of you and find a place to set up an ambush but you were too fast for me.”
“This story had better check out,” Dru warned him.
“Hey, man, I’m cool. Ask Brett.”
Dru did just that, and Brett confirmed everything Winston West had said.
“There’ve been a series of accidents around Blackthorn,” Dru said loudly enough for Brett and those of his assistants who were around to hear. “My suggestion to all of you is that once night falls, stay in the campsite. Stay where other members of your party can see you. If you need an alibi, then you’ll have one.”
“An alibi for what?” Brett asked. “What are you implying about me and my men?”
“Not a thing,” Dru said softly. “I’m just giving you a tip, Gibson. Take it or leave it, I don’t care.”
“You should be chasing down whoever started that crying-baby noise,” Brett said irritably. “Instead, you’re courting Rebecca and harassing my workmen.”
Dru didn’t miss the fact that Brett, despite the way he spoke to Rebecca, seemed jealous of anyone else’s attention to her. Well, stranger things had happened.
“Where is the artifact you dug up today?” Dru asked.
“Has she told everyone? Ms. Barrett would do well to learn to keep her mouth shut.”
Dru felt a flash of anger. Brett was an egotist and an ass. Dru took a deep breath and forced the anger out of his voice. “Where is the artifact?”
“In a very safe place,” Brett said.
“Where?”
“In my tent,” Brett said finally and with great reluctance. “No one goes in my tent.”
“May I see it?” Dru asked, knowing that he’d get an argument. Brett was just that kind of man.
“You have no need to see it. It won’t mean a thing to someone uneducated in—”
“Show it to me,” Dru said levelly.
“If you insist!” Brett led the way to his tent. He went inside and in a moment, there was the sound of an exclamation. “No!” he cried, coming out of the tent in a rush. “It’s gone.”