Free Krewe of Hunters 2 Heart of Evil by Heather Graham Page B

alone.”
    â€œWatch for herons!” Justin said.
    â€œI wouldn’t mind seeing a cougar,” Meg announced.
    â€œThey’re shy, too. But we’ll see what we see,” Ashley assured them.
    They counted seven herons, two raccoons, an armadillo and three owls up in the trees. When they came to the bayou, Ashley pointed out two alligators sunning on the opposite bank. As she did so, shesaw that staff members at Beaumont were engaged in their work already. A man dressed in a droop hat, cutoff denim and a dotted cotton shirt was standing by a wagon that showed freshly hewn sugarcane. Another, dressed more like an early nineteenth-century Louisiana French businessman, was giving a tour.
    She looked up toward the second story of the plantation house, where the family had lived. A man was standing there, dressed in a Confederate uniform frock coat.
    Ashley blinked against the light. He looked like…
    Like her ancestor, Marshall Donegal.
    The man lifted a hand to her.
    Yet when she blinked again, he was gone. Her imagination at work again. Of course, she was still concerned about Charles Osgood. But he was due back to work the next morning. If he didn’t turn up by then, the police would have to get involved at a serious level.
    She realized that Justin was watching her.
    â€œAre you okay, Ashley?” he asked.
    â€œI’m fine. The light is playing tricks, that’s all. I thought I saw a Confederate soldier at the window. Toby Keaton does workshops and tours on the real workings of a sugar plantation over there. We do the Civil War—keeps me sending tourists to him, and him sending them to Donegal Plantation,” she said. Would she have told the truth if Jake were here? Jake, who seemed to know what the dead were saying.
    â€œYou have Charles Osgood on your mind,” Justin said.
    â€œI do. I can’t help it.”
    They rode along the bayou for a while, and then Ashley led them around the second trail to head back to the house. The girls chattered the whole time.
    Justin nudged Jeff and the horse trotted up next to Ashley again. “I know you were hoping to find Charles,” he said.
    â€œI am worried, Justin, really worried,” she said.
    â€œHe’ll show up. But let him know how worried you were. That will make him feel good,” Justin told her.
    Ashley offered him a smile. “Sure, thanks.”
    Back at the stable, Ashley tried to keep her mind busy, letting the girls help her with the saddles and bridle and tack. She taught them how to groom their horses.
    As she put away the last of the brushes, Justin strode over to her. “Great. Now Jeanine doesn’t want a puppy anymore. She wants a horse.”
    Ashley laughed. “Maybe you better look into the puppy thing, fast. Of course, there’s always kittens, you know.”
    Restless, she returned to the house, showered again and went down to join Beth, who was planning the offerings for the restaurant’s evening meal.
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    Jackson Crow was nothing if not a man of incredible thought and organization; there were six folders on the table awaiting them all.
    Jake and Whitney were precisely on time, but he was the last to slide into his seat at Le Café, the Hotel Monteleone’s bright and charming dining facility for breakfast and lunch. There were other diners about, but they’d been given a table in the far corner, near the windows to Royal Street, and they were certainly far enough from others to carry on a meeting in normal tones.
    Jackson, ever the gentleman, had risen while Whitney took her seat, which meant that Will did, too. They were both tall, and the kind of men who drew attention. Jackson had the rugged, square-jawed history of Native Americans in his face, while Will’s Trinidadian mix of English, Indian, Chinese and African ancestry gave him a fascinating appeal.
    â€œThank you all for being on time,” Jackson said. “Though I want you all to know