Free Southern Ghost by Carolyn G. Hart Page B

then she reached into a capacious pocket and, with a rustle, pulled out a square of neatly clipped newsprint and a thick-lensed pince-nez. She perched the delicate gold-rim glasses on her nose, held the clipping close, and began to read in her sandpapery voice:
    Heiress Disappears; Police Are Puzzled
    A Beaufort heiress, Miss Courtney Kimball, 21, has been reported missing, according to Chastain police.
    Police Chief Harry Wells announced today that a Broward’s Rock businessman, Max well Darling, had an appointment with Miss Kimball on Wednesday night, and that Darling came to police with Miss Kimball’s handbag claiming he found it at the site of their scheduled meeting,but that Miss Kimball never arrived.
    Miss Kimball’s car, a 1992 cream-colored BMW, was found by police late last night at Lookout Point. Bloodstains were found on the front seat.
    Chief Wells said Darling was held for questioning when police discovered him at Miss Kimball’s apartment Wednesday night shortly after he had reported her missing to police. The apartment showed signs of a search.
    Chief Wells reported that the police laboratory confirmed the stains in the car are from human blood.
    Darling was released late Wednesday night on his own recognizance.
    Efforts by this reporter to contact Darling, owner of Confidential Commissions, a personal consultation company on Broward’s Rock Island, have been unsuccessful.
    An all-points—
    Annie couldn’t take any more. She jumped to her feet. “That louse. That rat. That slimebag—”
    “That will do, Annie,” Miss Dora snapped. “It won’t help to have a hissy fit at Harry Wells. The damage is done. Your young man is in a pack of trouble, and you both might as well get ready to face it.” There was more than a hint of satisfaction in her thin voice.
    Annie opened her mouth, looked into Miss Dora’s penetrating, raisin-dark eyes, and abruptly sat down.
    “Good. I’m glad to see you can sometimes be sensible. Now,” Miss Dora cleared her throat, “to continue”:
    An all-points bulletin has been issued. Miss Kimball is described as a slender, blue-eyed blonde. The missing woman is the daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. Carleton Kimball of Beaufort, one of that city’s oldest and most prominent families. The family attorney, Roger Smithson III, declined comment today on what might have brought Miss Kimball to Chastain.
    Miss Kimball arrived in Chastain last week, renting an apartment unit behind the St. George Inn. Mrs. Caroline Gentry, owner of the inn, said,“Oh, this is so shocking. Such a charming young woman. She said she was in Chastain to do I research on her family history.”
    Miss Dora removed the pince-nez, folded the news clipping into a neat square, and returned both to her black bombazine pocket. She whipped the cane up and pointed it peremptorily at Max. “Why was Courtney meeting you?”
    “I had undertaken a commission for her, Miss Dora.” Max looked intently at the old lady. “The landlady at St. George Inn said you recommended the inn to Courtney. That means you and Courtney met. Why?”
    Miss Dora’s eyes sparkled. Her sudden cackle made Annie’s spine crinkle.
    “Not so mealymouth as you look, are you, young Max?” The cane dipped, as if in reluctant recognition that she had met her equal. “Polite enough, but nobody’s fool. Yes, I can see why you might wonder. Well.” Miss Dora sat upright in the prim chair, her shoulders as straight as any soldier on parade. There was a contained ferocity eerily like that of obsessive Miss Rosa Coldfield in
Absalom, Absalom
!, Annie thought with a shudder, remembering William Faulkner’s splendid novel of gothic passions and doom. “There’s more to this than meets the eye. Much, much more.”
    “Do you know who Courtney’s parents were?” Annie interjected impulsively.
    The shrewd black eyes focused on Annie. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” And she cackled again.
    “Miss Dora, you know more about Chastain