Page 23

We drove up in front of Mr. Smith’s house, or more accurately, his manor. The property was surrounded with well manicured hedges, but I could make out a sprawling lawn leading to a house the size of a small castle.

Clearly, whatever this man did for a living, he did it well. We pulled up to the gate, and I pressed a button for an intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Jonah with Equinox Protective Group.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m used to dealing with Alden directly,” he said, sounding hesitant.

“We won’t take up too much of your time,” Briar leaned over to yell from the passenger seat. The momentary contact of her shoulder against mine made me wish we were still in my bed.

The gate unlatched with an audible click then swung open, and I refocused.

Briar whistled as she stared out the window at the landscaping. Bushes and statues were strategically placed around the property. “Looks like a castle.”

“Or the hotel from the Shining,” I muttered.

She smirked. “Let’s hope this has a happier ending than that.”

I pulled to the side of the driveway, knowing we wouldn’t be here long. The weak afternoon sun met us as we got out and I hooked my fingers with Briar’s as we approached the arched front door.

“Shouldn’t you be at the cemetery soon? Has something happened?”

I nodded. “I’ll be there on time, but I have a question for you first. Do you know the name of the person buried in the unmarked grave?”

He looked between Briar and me for a long moment.

“The family knows,” he confirmed. “But, is it really relevant?”

“Look they’ve been dead long enough, surely your family can forgive them for whatever sins they committed in your eyes.”

“Knowing the whole truth can also help me keep the cemetery safe,” I added.

He sighed then jerked his chin in the direction of his house and retreated inside.

Briar and I followed, stepping into an impressive foyer. Tall, domed ceiling, gold framed paintings, shiny tiled floor.

The house looked like it was older than the cemetery itself.

“Did this house used to belong to your family buried there?” Briar asked.

“No, this place is historical, but it never belonged to my family. I’m the first generation that could afford something like this,” he said over his shoulder as he led us to a small living room.

He took a seat in an uncomfortable-looking high-back chair, and Briar and I sat on the matching sofa. A delicate looking wood and floral eyesore that was in fact uncomfortable as hell.

“So you already know Mercer has attracted a lot of attention to the cemetery for all the wrong reasons. I spoke with him, and he’s going to call off his fans. I don’t know if he’ll be completely successful, but if anybody shows up, I can keep them out.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“But the internet is a big place, and there’ll always be another Mercer. With the amount of attention he got from that one video, you just know other people will be chomping at the bit to get their turn. I think the best way to avoid a circus is just to come clean. Let the real story be known.”

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. “Even if I did that, how would I get the story out in a meaningful way? I could get it published in some historical journal, but the average person isn’t going to read that.”

“That’s where Briar comes in,” I said, gesturing to her.

She straightened her spine. “I’m an influencer too, but I don’t focus on paranormal or theory. I focus on history and restoration. That’s why I got the county to give me permission to clean up the site. Permission I’ve since lost.”