CHAPTER THIRTEEN Bones and Stones

I sat at a scarred wooden table in a bare whitewashed room. There were only a few chairs and one other person in the room with me. He was a middleaged man with thinning brown hair and dressed in a crinkled tweed jacket. He had al ready started on his second pack of cigarettes during the last twenty minutes an d I knew that if he kept it up I would probably die from second hand smoke befor e I was allowed to go back to my cell. There was a small tape recorder in front of him and he made notes and doodles on an old yellow legal pad as he asked me questions. " I appreciate your being so willing to talk about this Mr. Anderson. " " It's no problem Detective, I'm a criminal lawyer in Baltimore and I do not intend to say anything to incriminate myself. Besides the only attorney I trust is in Washington, D.C. right now and he won't be able to be here for my he aring so I guess I'm on my own. Listen, " I rubbed my temples as I tried to fig ure out how to explain everything without him thinking I needed a psychiatrist. " This is all crazy, I'm absolutely innocent and I want nothing more than to ge t to the bottom of what happened. I had absolutely no reason to kill Mr. Gerswi n. I thought he was a very nice man whom I only just met yesterday. I simply c ame to the plantation looking for my mother. He was kind enough to try to help. He said she had visited the plantation yesterday morning. When the officer bro ught her purse for me to look through I found a piece of paper inside with some designs drawn on it. I showed them to Mr. Gershwin and he said they were ident ical to some carvings on a tree there at the plantation. He even showed me and Patience a picture from one of the books in the library there. I think it was called Georgia Rice Culture or something. Two officers saw us heading out into the woods together. They were on the back terrace. " " Well, Mr. Anderson. The trouble with that is that I only have one off icer who says he was back there and he says he saw you sneeking around the back alone. " " That's impossible! I was following Frank. Mr. Gershwin. I had no id ea where the tree was. I've never even been to that property before in my life! " " Yeah. That's what Mrs. Lewis said. It doesn't make any sense to me e ither. Things don't look very good for you right now, Mr. Anderson. I've got a body that's been stabbed multiple times and you were apprehended in the woods h olding the murder weapon. " " I was looking at the carvings on the tree and someone hit me from beh ind. I still have the lump for Christ's sake! " I rubbed the back of my head. " We've photographed all your injuries which, I must admit, confuse the situation even further. Just how did you get bruises around your ankles and wri sts? And your throat still has marks as if you were choked. How can you explai n that? " I paused for a second and glanced at my wrists, remembering the cold bon y hands that held me tight against the muddy ground. " I have no idea. I woke up like this. Muddy and bruised. When I got to my feet I noticed the knife on the ground. I picked it up and saw that it was covered in some dark slippery su bstance and just as it dawned on me that it was blood I noticed people with flas hlights approaching from the direction of the mansion. When the officers arrive d I had no idea what was going on. They just arrested me on the spot and here I am. " " I went to the morgue early this morning and checked out the body. Sur e enough, just like Mrs. Lewis said, there was mud all over Mr. Gershwin's shoes . That's what makes me inclined to believe you, Mr. Anderson. How did he get t he same mud on his shoes if he didn't go out in the woods? But if he went with you, why did my officer say he saw you alone? And if you didn't kill Mr. Gershw in, then who did? There wasn't anyone else on the property except Mrs. Lewis an

d Mrs. Anderson, but they were supposedly locked inside one of the cabins. " " What were they doing in one of the cabins? " " Well, to hear them tell it they were trapped there by a ghost. " He bl ew a small puff of smoke in front of his face and looked at it as though it were an ectoplasmic entity and then waved his hand causing it's wispy tendrils to de materialize. " Really? " I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and tried to act suprise d but my face must not have been convincing enough. " You don't look surprised by that prospect. Don't tell me that you bel ieve in ghosts? " " Well, to be honest with you detective. Since coming to Savannah, my a ttitude toward the occult has definitely changed. Patience can really tell some convincing tales and I have seen and heard some strange things since being here . " " I really don't have time for all that nonsense, but I do plan to talk to Mrs. Lewis and your mother later. So one last time let me try to get this st raight, your saying that Mr. Gershwin took you into the woods and you were hit o n the head and don't remember anything until you woke up and found the knife on the ground? " " That's what happened. " I answered. " I'm sure if a doctor could take a look at this lump on my head you'd find it's pretty serious. I can't make a comment as to my other injuries accept that possibly they were done to me while I was unconcious. " I looked down at my ankles and pulled my pants leg up and m y socks down in order to appraise any potential damage there. " Look, I've got bruises on my ankles too. " I scooted my chair back to give him a look. " Well, we'll see if we can have a doctor or someone take a look at you today. " " It should be done very soon so that the injuries are still fresh. The se bruises could be evidence you know. Without a complete medical workup I don' t think I'm getting a fair trial. Oh, and I don't intend to tell you how to do your job detective but I would question that officer again, who saw me go around the house alone. He's lying. I know I saw two officers on that terrace. It s eems to me there was one tall officer and the other was rather heavy around his gut. I couldn't make out their faces but I know I could recognize them if I saw them again. " Detective Devoss stood and swiped up his notepad and pen and then jabbed his last cigarette into the ashtray almost as if he were a child pretend his to y airplane were going down in flames. " I don't need you or Mrs. Lewis to tell me how to do my job, Mr. Anderson, but that officer already made his statement l ast night. But, I will need you to look at some pictures for me so we can deter mine who that other officer may have been. I'll have someone bring in some phot os for you. Meanwhile, I'll let you know if I need anything further." He walked around the table to the door and turned back toward me as if having an aftertho ught, " After you do that I'll have the gaurd will take you back to your cell un til your arraignment later today. One way or the other Mr. Anderson, I promise that I will get to the bottom of this. " " Gee, thanks. " I mumbled. I couldn't tell if his comment was a statem ent of support or a subtle threat but my lack of confidence in his abilities cou ld not be quelled. -+" Finally got yourself a high profile case huh, Devoss? " " Shut up, Barkley. " I turned my chair around to the window so I didn 't have to look at Barkley's fat face. His shirt was soaked in sweat and there was always a hungry look in his eyes that made me uncomortable. Thank God I'd h idden my lunch in my desk drawer this morning. " This case is going to be nothin g but a headache. I can tell that already. " " Well, on the positive side you're sure to get a lot of spots on TV for a while. You're liable to make the chief jealous with all this publicity. I'v e already seen you on the tube twice today and that's before I even got out the

door this morning. " The job had been giving me a headache for at least the last two years, e ver since Chief Arboghast was put in charge, and my relationship with the press and the top brass was not the best. I'm sure high profile case or not, my chanc es for promotion were slim to none and publicity was not going to help my chance s. Hell, I could only see things getting worse for a while. Just keep my head down and do my job like always. I wasn't the only one in the department with a grim outlook. Moral had hit the toilet since Arboghast's appointment by the may or. It was all politics. It always was. I hated politics and refused to play their game. I guess that's why, in the last twenty five years, I hadn't made it past detective, but hell, this is the work I signed on for; somebody else could have the job of kissing a lot of butts on the way up the ladder. I was happy w here I was. " Haven't you heard the stories of the first Whitlock murder?" Barkley a sked, sitting on the edge of my desk. " Husband killed his wife with a butcher knife. Kids back then even made up some old fashioned rhymes just like with tha t ol Lizzy Borden thing except that it went something like an old Gullah rhyme: 'Ol man Whitlock had uh waaf, stuck uh in da back wit uh butcha naaf. It uh shame how Whitlock done his waaf'. Ha, ha, ha..." his laugh echoed throughout t he office and grated on my nerves. I couldn't see what he found so funny so I t urned my back on him and pulled up some information on the original murder up on my pc terminal. He seemed to get the message and wandered back to his own desk . Barkley was right, though, there were some strange similarities between both murders. A kitchen knife was used in both cases, and multiple stab wounds were delivered to the upper torso. But there was an apparent motive back then, perso nality clash and financial problems, but what could drive the grandson to come a ll the way to Savannah just to stab the curator of the Plantation? There was no motive. Maybe the guy is crazy, I thought to myself but he sure as hell didn't sound crazy while I was speaking with him. He seemed to really have a grip on his situation. I picked up my phone and dialed downstairs to speak with Officer Carlson, who'd been the one to spot Anderson walking around the house. " Metcalf here. " a woman's voice answered. " Yeah, seargent. This is Detective Devoss. I need to speak with Offic er Carlson. " " Hang on a sec, detective. " there was a short pause before she came ba ck on the line. " He hasn't come in today. He was scheduled for another twelve hour shift today at ten but hasn't come in or called in as far as I know. " " I need him for a case I'm working on and he's a witness for Christ's s ake. Has anyone called his house? " " I'll see what I can find out and call you back. " " Ok. " I said, and hung up. " Jesus..." I said looking back up at my computer screen. I scrolled d own the list of search results and clicked on the first mention of the Whitlock murder. About halfway down the page the name Patience Lewis jumped out at me fr om beneath a small black and white photograph of a young black girl standing in front of the old historic Savannah Police department building in the old downtow n section. I think it's a bank now. Her hair was tossed and the look on her fa ce was one of pain and sadness. I had only met her the night before but her fac e and eyes were unmistakeable. Patience Lewis, nanny to the Whitlock's six year old daughter, was denied the op portunity to present her testimony before the jury on August 10, 1942. Judge Ha rwell, after hearing the girls testimony inside his chambers, was heard commenti ng that under no circumstances he would allow such rediculous superstitious stor ies to be heard in a court of law. Mrs. Lewis was not available for comment aft er her appearance and has refused attempts to be interviewed by this paper. I hit the back button and scanned the search results again, scrolling further do wn the page looking for more details about the murder but picked up another ment ion of Mrs. Lewis and for some unknown reason I clicked it, quickly scanning for

the pertinent part of the article. Patience Lewis, a Gullah conjurewoman who received some notoriety in Savannah wh en she was a witness to the murder of Mrs. Catherine Whitlock in 1942 came to pu blic attention again during the civil rights 'sit ins' in 1960 - 1961 when she w as accused by several downtown white store owners of using hoodoo to chase away their business. During a boycott of white-owned downtown stores in September 19 61 with public demands for desegregation of facilities, use of courtesy titles l ike Mr., Mrs.,Miss, instead of the usual "boy" or "girl", and hiring of black cl erks and managers, she was arrested but later had her conviction over-ruled as u nconstitutional. Interestingly enough, the following month in October the city of Savannah agreed to desegregate its parks, swimming pools, busses, and restaur ants and the boycott was lifted. Could lowcountry hoodoo have had something to do with the city's change in policy? To read more about hoodoo click HERE. My phone rang as I reached down and hit the back button again. Ghosts and hoodo o, I laughed to myself. I couldn't believe there were still people that believe d in all this stuff in the twenty first century. Mrs. Lewis had to be one of t he last remaining old timers clinging to these old superstitions. " Devoss. " I answered. " Devoss, this is Metcalf. I called Carlson's home and his wife hasn't seen him since yesterday. He's not called in and she has no idea where he could be. She assumed he was still at work. He usually takes his cruiser home with him whenever he's got another long shift the next day so we used the new GPS un its that were installed last month to locate his car. The system wasn't totally online yet, but the units are functional. We found his car out near Elba Islan d but he hasn't responded to his cell or radio. They just sent a couple of unit s to check it out. That's what's the craziest thing. It's the second officer t oday that's turned up missing." " What do you mean? " I asked leaning forward in my chair. " Well, Seargent Snead hasn't shown up either. The last anyone saw him he was out at the Whitlock Plantation searching for that Anderson woman. He tol d his partner he wasn't well and said he was going home with another officer but he never showed up at the station to clock out and nobody's quite sure where he is. " " Elba Island. That's not far from the Whitlock Plantation is it. " " Only about three or four miles. Not far. " " Thanks. " I said and hung up. I rubbed my forehead. Things just were n't adding up. The probability that two officers disappear in or around the Whi tlock Plantation on the same night as a gruesome murder was just too bizarre. I picked up the telephone again and dialed information and asked for the number to the Comfort Inn on East Bay. I dialed the hotel and asked for Jarod Anderson 's room. It rang about five times and the concierge came back on the line and a sked if I wanted to leave a voice mail. I said no and hung up. I drank the las t of my cold coffee, opened my drawer and pulled out my brown paper bag of lunch which consisted of two chicken salad sandwiches a couple of twinkies and a diet bar that I had been intending to eat for the past week but hadn't mustered the nerve yet. The last one tasted like playdough. I grabbed a sandwich and a twin kie and tossed the rest on the desk. " Barkley. I gotta go. I gotta go out to Elba Island and then back to the Whitlock Plantation. I'll be back later this afternoon. Watch things for m e. " " Sure thing, Devoss. Listen, don't waste too much of your time on this Whitlock thing. You got this guy dead to rights. These rich bastards are all crazy. Just let the DA lock him up and throw away the key. " he said laughing a s his eyes reconnoitered my desk and I almost thought he might grab the food bef ore I even left the room. -+The drive out to Elba Island was not a scenic one. The road was bland a

nd featureless, scrubby bushes scattered along the way beyond which could be see n several tanks and towers for some sort of gas processing station. I had read something about it in the paper but just couldn't remember precisely what they w ere used for. Just out of sight on the other side of the roadside vegetation I knew lay hundreds of square yards of swamp and marsh, a mosquito heaven and here I was choosing of my own accord to drive out here and offer myself up as a fres h sacrifice. I knew I had to be crazy, but the idea of two missing cops kept gn awing at my brain and I didn't know what direction to take. Both officers had b een at the plantation last night and at least one of them had now become rather significant in the case against the apparent perpertrator. I couldn't picture Jarod Anderson killing, so violently, a man he'd only just met. There was somet hing more going on than my eyes could see but I knew that whatever was happening couldn't stay hidden forever. People make mistakes. The truth would come out. It wasn't long before I caught sight of the flashing red and blue lights of several police cruisers parked on the shoulder of the road. I slowed to pul l in behind them and noticed a third police car sitting about ten feet off the s houlder, it's wheels partially hidden by tall weeds which remained pressed down in an arc that showed the cars path as it had driven of the road. It was turned sideways and the driver's door was ajar and a uniformed officer was inside, one leg on the seat and the other sticking awkwardly out onto the ground. I pulled my car in behind the first two cars and checked my revolver by habit before get ting out into the warm air. The sun was climbing higher into the cloudless sky and judging from it's intensity I could tell it was going to be another scorcher . The thunderstorms that had knocked out so much of the cities electricity the other day had not alleviated the current drought that weighed on the Southeaster n states like one of the biblical plagues. One of the officers approached me as I walked toward the car which I presumed was Officer Carlson's. The man was a stocky, African-American, about forty years old and neatly groomed. I had seen him at the precinct before but never spoken to him. I glimpsed his name tag whi ch read Sgt. Taggart. " Can I help you? " Officer Taggart asked. " Any sign of Officer Carlson? " I asked, flashing him my badge. " No sir. The three of us did a preliminary search around the vehicle b ut there's no sign of him. He didn't leave anything in his car to indicate what 's happened to him. He's just seemed to have vanished. There's nothing around here but swamp. I just got off the horn with dispatch and they're sending out a chopper to search out there..." he waved his hand to indicate the wide expanse of swamp that lay just beyond the road, " Officer Pryor is still searching the vehicle, but it's just damn strange. I can't figure out what's happened. Nothi ng in the vehicle has been tampered with. The car was just sitting there, door unlocked, as if Carlson had meant to come right back. " " Yeah, very strange... " I responded pulling out another cigarette to e ase my tightening stomach. The hot smoke burned my throat but it lovingly sooth ed my nerves as I tried to consider what my next step should be. I almost choked when I heard a shout come from Officer Carlson's car. With his head leaning out of the vehicl e, Officer Pryor, was waving us over and I and Officer Taggart walked quickly to ward the vehicle. " What is it, John? " Officer Taggart called out. " Blood...on the seat just beneath the head rest. Look..." He got out of the vehicle and Officer Taggart leaned in to get a better look. " Let me have a look, " I said nudging Taggart out of the way. There we re several small areas of blood that had run up underneath the headrest almost a s if it had been squirted there out of a ketchup bottle. The blood was fresh, p robably only a few hours old. " Was the engine warm when you guys showed up? " I asked. " No. It must have been sitting here a while. It was stone cold. We g ot here about...uh....an hour ago, I guess. " I pulled myself out of the vehicle and reached in my inside jacket pocke

t for my cell phone. I dialed the department. " Sergeant Hoffman. " " Yeah Sergeant. This is Detective Devoss. Did anybody get a chance to show Mr. Anderson those pictures? " " Oh, yeah. He just finished going through them. " " Well? " " He said the other officer was Sergeant Snead. " " Shit, that's not good. He's sure? " " Yeah, he said no doubt. " " Transfer me down to dispatch, quick. I need to know what's being done to find him. " -+" If we don't show up at the police station this morning, Patience, I'm sure that that detective will come looking for us. " Mary said as she drove the car sev'al hundred yahds past da Plantation entrance, just like I had instructed . " Time is runnin out sweety. If we don't get deze boo daddies chahged t oday, I'm afraid da Doma will make sho we don't see tamarra. " I could remembuh da layout uh da plantation property as if it had been yestuhday when me an Mary had had aw first run ins wit da Doma so many yeauhs ago. I knew da big house w as about uh half uh mile down da main drive dat cut it's way through tall stands uh pine, bam trees and oaks. Da gate ta da plantation was opened when we passe d so I assumed dat was fa da benefit uh da Poleece department. Deyuh would be c ars an poleecemen comin an goin all day an dats da last thing I wanted was ta ha ve uh run in wit any of em. I didn't know what possible explanation I could com e up wit ta explain aw bein heyuh on da property. "Mary, jis park da car off d a road ova deyuh. " I said, pointing to a section of da road dat dipped down int a a natural culvert wit tall grass. I hoped it would be far enough off da road ta keep pryin eyes away. Mary did lak I said an we got out. I threw ma purse ovuh ma shoulduh an stared off inta da woods, through twisted branches wit fingu hs uh spanish moss reachin down lak predator's claws darin us ta entuh. Da road we was on, Sandtown Road, named fa da small nearby community dat had grown up in da years aftuh Mrs. Whitlock's murduh, was still cool an barren. Da mornin sun had not gotten far enough over head yet ta heat up the cracked, uneven cement a n I was thankful fo da sweet, cool air. I nevuh missed uh chance ta take uh dee p breath an I could even smell da salt marsh in da distance. I knew what was i nside waitin on us. Mary couldn't remembuh no mo, but durin da eighty two yeauh s I'd spent on dis earth God had not seen fit ta bless me wit da same sweet forg etfulness. I could still see everything in my mind as if I was watchin an episo de uh Matlock, but I couldn't switch it off. Mary locked up da car and came around ta stand next ta me as I looked in ta da forest. " What now? " she aksed. " Well, if my memory serves me right, we gotta go in da woods... dat way , " I pointed westward, trying ma best ta remembuh jus wheyuh dat ol slabe cemet ery lay. " Open da trunk fa me, sweety, an get out da bag uh boo daddies dat we made. I guess we bettuh git staht'd. " She popped da trunk an lifted out da damp, smelly bag uh oyster shells p acked wit swamp grass and mud. I could see huh nose curl up in disgust an I lau ghed. " Mary, honey, you gone have ta git ta liken dat smell. If we gone beat dis Doma, den dose boo daddies is what's gone hep us. It's da only thing dats g one hep Jarod. " She smiled at me and was kind enough ta carry da bag fa me. " I'll get used to it I suppose, Patience. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure noth ing happens to Jarod. Even if it means smelling this god awful stench. " I lau ghed again. Somehow in da midst uh all dis misery I could still see da little g irl inside huh. It didn't mattuh dat we was uh couple uh ol ladies now. " Don't ya worry, sweety. We gone make everything alright. Aunt Melsin

i didn't teach me fa nothin ya know. " I started walkin inta da woods wit Mary c lose behind totin da bag lak uh sack uh dirty laundry. " Dat woman was da best root doctuh dat evuh lived. She would always say, ' Patience, deyuhs uh remedy fa every trouble if ya jis quiet ya mind enough ya can heayuh God give ya da ans wuh.' Did I evuh tell ya bout da time I seen huh heal uh man who had both his l egs bit off by an alligatuh? No, it's true! " I could see Mary's expression of disbelief in ma story, but I continued anyways tryin ta ease huh mind from da tr oubles we was about ta face. Troubles dat was far worse dan any 'ol alligatuh. " Aftuhwuhds dey called him Ham Bone. Aunt Mel treated him. Stopped da bleedi n an sech, saved his life, she did, but he said wuldn't be satisfied til he got his legs back. He made em go out lookin fa his legs an da othuh men in da fambl y finally found da gatuh dat attacked him. Dat gatuh still had one of his legs in his mouth carryin it around lak uh dog wit uh ham bone in his mout. Dat's ho w he got his name. Well, Aunt Melsini healed him up jis fine too. Now, when I s ay healed him up, uhcawse I don't mean she was able ta put his legs back on aw n othin lak dat. No suh, dat ol gatuh nevuh would give back dat leg, but Ham Bone still got around ok. I ain't nevuh seen somebody got hurt as bad as ol Ham Bon e. Everybody thought he would die, but Aunt Melsini pulled him through. She sh o did. " " Did they never catch the alligator? " Mary aksed. " No, nevuh did. Although one uh da men came in seval yeauhs latuh wit uh big leg bone and claimed it was Ham Bone's. Ham Bone seemed satisfied though . Dey said he kept it unduh his bed wrapped in uh blanket, but I don't know if dat's true. " We walked fa bout twenty mo minutes until we reached uh small clearin wh ere I thought we ought ta rest. At least ma legs was tellin me we needed ta res t. I looked around at the forest an felt da trees closin in upon us. Deyuh was a big log layin ta one side uh da clearin an we both made aw way ta have uh sit down. I smiled at Mary tryin ta hide da dark fears dat were weighin on my mind. I would not let dis damned plantation take huh life. I wuldn't about ta let d at Doma beat me. It'd tried ta kill me many times since da day uh Mrs. Whitlock 's death but God had shown ta be on ma side but sumpm stirred in ma gut an I won duh'd if ma time had finally come. Eighty two was not an age ta be facin down a creatcha lak da Doma. Eighty two was not an age ta be doin much uh nothin cept sittin down an restin in front uh da TV, not out hikin in da woods. Well, I'd rathuh die out heyuh in da woods dan spend da rest uh ma time feelin useless. " We bettuh keep movin, " I said. "Da slabe cemetery shouldn't be much fuhthuh. " I didn't know how just how much fuhthuh ma ol legs would carry me. I was really stahtin ta feel ma age an I groaned as I stood up. " Patience, are you alright? We can rest a little longer if you like. You don't have to push yourself so hard. I'm worried about you. " " Don't be silly. Now, don't ya worry none 'bout me. I'm as spry as I evuh was. " I grabbed the bag uh oyster shells an threw it ovuh ma shoulduh ta prove ta huh jis how tough an ol bird I could be. I ignored any protests fro m Mary by throwin up ma hand an jis stahted walkin fuhthuh inta da woods. She followed close behind me an I could hear huh swearin unduh huh breath as we trud ged along. I tried ta keep us on aw headin as much as possible, but da forest seeme d ta have othuh ideas. Thick patches uh thorn bushes made walkin difficult an p ainful an hard on aw clothes. Sev'al times one of us had ta hep da othuh get lo ose from da sharp briers but somehow we managed to keep movin. Da aftahnoon sun had finally made it's way directly ovuhhead, it's beams cuttin through da thick branches creatin a beautiful light and shadow display upon da ground. It wasn 't long befo I had ta rest agin, although I tried ta conceal my fatigue from Mar y. " Ya jis hang in deyuh Mary, we almost deyuh. I think I can smell da wa tuh. " " Water? The lake? It's still here? " " Yeah, as far as I know it is. Who knows whats still here aftuh sixty years. " I knew we were gettin close ta da lake, at least I hoped it was still u

h lake an not reverted back ta swampland, an once we found it, den I knew we cou ld follow it's edge until we got ta da boat house. Da boat house. Dat is if i t still existed. At least I thought I would be able ta tell where it HAD been. If it was still there, it would give us uh landmark so we could start aw searc h fa da cemetery. I had only been ta dat cemetery once befo an I wasn't bout ta tell Mary why. If she had any sense, aftuh hearin bout it, she would turn arou nd an run screamin back ta da car cause dat's exactly what I felt lak doin. Da lake was not well groomed as it had once been. Time had grown around it wit webs of brush an ovuhgrowth along da shore uh watuh was no longuh clear We couldn't even make it ta da watuh's edge, but instead had ta circle around i t only once an uh while catchin a glimpse of it's dark water. I assumed dat tou rists was not allowed ta see dis section uh da plantation. " Mary, " I aksed as we tugged at some briers dat stretched across aw pa th, " Do you know anythin bout da history uh da plantation? OW... I mean, whe n did ya fambly give it ta da city uh S'vannah? " " Oh, I don't know Patience. AHH! My Uncle took care of all that. As far as I know the family didn't want anything further to do with it after the mu rder so they deeded most of the place to the city. I think I heard him tell my Aunt that we still owned some property out here with the "rotting bones and that godforsaken swamp," something like that. OUCH! I'm beginning to see what he me ant. I think the only reason they kept any of the land at all was because of th e family cemetery that's supposed to be out here somewhere. That's where they s aid my parents were buried. I've never visited it though. " " I've been deyuh...laid flowuhs on deyuh graves too. I'm so sorry Mar y..." I stopped an started ta cry. It felt lak ma legs would crumble beneath me as da guilt of all doze yeauhs seemed ta spill outa me all of uh sutt'n. " Ma ry, I tried ta save ya Daddy. I tried, Gawd as ma witness, I tried. I used eve ry hoodoo trick I knew. I went ta visit him in da county jail da day befo his s entencin. He was glad ta see me...he told me so. I was even able ta give him u h mojo I'd fixed up ta hep him win his court case. Dey even let me give him uh pair uh socks I'd washed in Aunt Melsini's own Influence A Judge or Jury Wash, w hich I successfully used masef on sev'al occassions, but I nevuh thought dat wha t happened to ya Daddy could evuh happen. Da Doma sho took me off gaurd an I'm sorry dat I let you an ya Daddy down... " I wiped ma eyes an Mary give me uh s mile. " Patience, none of this was your fault. We're all doing the best we ca n to get through life and I know you did your best..." " Well, I won't let ya down dis time, Mary. Deyuh's an ol Gullah saying dat goes...'Take no more on your heels than you can kick off wit ya toes'..."Te k'e foot een 'e han"... so let's try ta get through dis mess uh briers so we can find dat cemetery an get outa deze woods an off dis property as fast as we can. " Mary agreed. We finally made it ta where I thought da boat house used ta be but we qu ickly realized dat it was only a crumbling pile of rotting lumbuh hidden beneath knotted an twisted weeds. Nothing of it's previous splenduh remained and soon da earth would totally reclaim any sign dat it had once existed. It was so ovu hgrown dat we couldn't even get near it, an from it's looks snakes an alligators were da only things we'd find deyuh so we chose to circle around an try ta pick up anothuh path toward da slave cemetery. Once we reentered da forest, clouds began ta fill da sky bringin shadows an da threat uh rain an uh breeze dat eeril y moved . A sound from behind us made me spin around only ta get a glimpse of u h small red fox as he dashed beneath uh log. Mary an me both took uh breath. Aw nerves was startin ta get frayed. As we continued aw way, me tryin ta pick out uh path as best I could, da sky seemed ta get darkuh an darkuh. I think Mary was beginnin ta wonduh if my sense uh direction had left me somewhere around ma seventies an dat we might get stuck in dem woods forevuh, but dat's when I saw it. I saw uh tree dat had bee n struck by lightening. Now, everybody who knows anythin bout conjuh'll tell ya dat uh tree struck ba lightenin is a good sign. Dat's what we needed right den

, was a good omen. " Come on ovuh dis way, Mary. " I left aw path, pushin ma way through bo ney saplins and unduhbrush. " Where are you going? Patience? The path keeps going that way. " " We're takin uh little detour. I see sumpm dat I jis can't pass up. " I chopped ma way ovuh ta da tree. It was uh tall poplar tree dat had be en split right down da middle, it's light wooden innards exposed ta da outside l ak somebody's ribcage torn open. One half uh da tree still stretched up inta da air in uh desperate attempt ta stay alive, but da othuh half had fallen ovuh re stin across da lowuh branches of uh smalluh nearby tree. Da lightenin strike mu st have happened jis da othuh day when we had dat bad storm. Da wood still smel led fresh an clean. Luckily, da fallen part uh da tree was easily within aa'ms reach an I searched for uh section an began ta tear off sev'al pieces of it's ba rk. " What on earth are you doing?" " I'm gettin us some bark. Dis heyuh is uh omen. It's uh good sign, bu t it'll also hep give us some protection against ghosts an sech. Heyuh, keep uh piece of it wit ya. " I tore uh peice off for me an her ta carry an I tucked m ine inside da pocket of ma skirt. Mary was wearin slacks an stuffed hers inside her pocket as well. As I turned ta find da path again, Mary let out uh gasp da t made me jump. " What is it? " " I saw something move over there. " She whispered to me as if suttenly aw voices might alert someone to aw presence an she pointed deepuh inta da wood s. I couldn't see any movement but I did see uh shape dat caught ma eye. " I see sumpm too. I wanna get uh closuh look. Come on. " Mary's eyes got wide. " Are you crazy? There might be someone over there. " " I usually got uh good sense uh danguh an right now da hairs on ma neck aren't pricklin. I think dis tree is uh sign we supposed ta come dis way. Rem embuh, ya got ta always be on da look out fa signs. God is always talkin. Now you jis stick behind me. " I reached down in ma pocket an gripped da piece of tree bark an muttered uh prayer. We both took cautious steps tawd uh small clustuh uh mo bam trees d at seemed ta encircle a group of greyish white stones that jutted out of the gro und. My steps quickened when I saw da shape dat had caught ma eye. " Mary, look. " I said pointing to a large rock in da center of da grove uh trees. A much rusted wagon wheel had been long ago nailed to da rock wit uh thick rusty spike driven deep inta it's heart. Da iron wheel was badly weather ed an it's rusty residue had bled down one side uh da rock stainin it's smooth f ace redish orange. " It's just like the picture from my dream. " Mary whispered. " It's also like de pictcha from dat book Mr. Gershwin was showin us bac k at da big house. Dis has got ta be uh clue, Mary. You dreamed it, an ovuh de yuh, back near da house, Mr. Gershwin said deyuh was uh tree wit dem symbols car ved on it. I give Jarod 'ol Mr. Whitlock's journal, dat'd be ya Great Great Gre at Grandfathuh, which dat had mysteriously ended up in ma possession befo ya Dad dy was kilt an Jarod said it looked lak he had arranged ta steal gold from his own gold company befo da Slavery War was ovuh. He thinks dat deze symbols are s ome sort of treasha map. I think dat's da whole reason behind all deze problems . If ya read ya history, GREED, is at da root uh most uh man's problems. Da Do ma has leached itsef onta dis gold an has laid claim to it an it means ta destro y anyone who might take it away. Jarod's got Whitlock blood in his veins an dat 's what's got da Doma afraid. He's afraid da Whitlock's is gone take away da go ld. Jis think, it's been gaurdin uh pile uh lifeless gold fa nearly uh hundred an fifty years. " I touched da wagon wheel thinkin bout how sad uh creatcha da Doma must be. Worse dan uh stingy ol barnyard dog watchin ovuh uh tasteless, dr ied up bone dat had all da marrow sucked out of it. " But, what could it mean? Where do you think it leads? " " I don't know. I jis don't know. We ain't got time ta sit an think ab

out it. We gotta get ta dat cemetery. " " But wait just a second, Patience. " Mary sat down on one uh da rocks. I thought she might need ta rest but she picked up uh stick an kicked aside so me ol dried leaves so she could scratch in da dirt. She quickly recreated da sy mbols from huh dream. " Now we've found the wagon wheel which means the drawing of the tree must be the tree that man was going to show you. Do you know where that is? " ** " I think I could find it. It wasn't far from da big house. You was wi t me when I first saw it. We was playin hide an seek, remembuh? " Mary shook he r head sadly, unable ta recall da memory. " You ran off ta hide. We was out b ehind what ya Momma told me was da north guest house but ya Daddy jis called it da ol school house. I put ma head in ma aa'm against uh big oak tree an started ta count real slow so's ta give ya time ta hide. You wasn't too good at hidin an I could find ya pretty easy. Anyhow, aftuh I counted, I went inta da woods l ookin fa ya. I knew you'd gone dat way cause I heard ya stompin down on all da dried leaves. Ya sounded lak uh herd uh elephants. I hadn't been searchin for ya long when I heard ya scream an ma blood ran cold. " Mary put huh hand on ma aa'm an squeezed as if ta tell me ta stop. Da forest was startin ta get darker as da clouds began ta fill da sky. Da air was gettin cooluh. " I ran as fast as I could, I was scared ta death dat sumpm had happened to ya, but when I found ya you was starin at dis big ol tree, uh huge beech tree...an...hangin from...o h...nevuh mind bout dat..." I shook ma head ta get da image out of ma mind, but it was burned deyuh, forevuh. Mary's grip got tightuh on ma aa'm an I was afra id dat if she squezed any harder ma aa'm might turn blue from loss uh blood. ** " Tell me Patience. I want to remember. I want to be free from these d emons. Tell me...please...what did you see?" " Well, hangin by uh rope from da biggest branch was uh man. His clothe s had been was all dirty an torn, an blood ran down his swollen face. His life less eyes stared out from deyuh sockets an you were frozen stiff lak uh statue, starin at him. I couldn't move eithuh for a minute, but den I heard da sound of uh horse comin which quickly snapped me back. Aftuh aw previous run in wit da hawse at da barn I wanted ta run away. It was comin from da deepuh part uh da w oods, it's hooves were beatin da groun fastuh an fastuh. I grabbed ya by da aa' m an pulled ya away. I pulled ya down behind uh bush an we hid deyuh, tryin not ta make uh sound, prayin fo ma heart ta stop beatin for fear it might hear me. I peeked through da bush tawd da tree an watched as da horse came to uh stop ne xt ta da lifeless man. It reared back on it's hind legs an kicked da body, maki n it swing grotesquely back an forth. I thought I heard laughter behind it's sn ortin and whinny. It was filled wit hate tawd dat man. Now I know who da man w as from his clothes. It was Tobias' fathuh. He had been Mr. Whitlock's persona l servant. Da Doma killed him fa tellin da Whitlock's 'bout da slave rebellion. Little Tobias was killed for da same reason...vengence. An da Doma intends ta take out his vengence on all of us too. " Mary let go uh ma aa'm an looked at da symbols scratched inta da dirt an den back up at me. " Can we hurt this Doma by taking the gold away? " " Dis creatcha is as old as da earth. It's pure evil. Da only thing I know dat'll kill it is ta catch it out of it's skin. If we can find out where h e is, we can treat da skin wit salt so's he can't get back inside den we can cat ch it out in da sun light. Sunlight'll kill it, sho 'nuff. " " I think I'm going to be sick, Patience. " Mary said an stood up. She walked ovuh to uh tree an leaned against it taking slow measured breaths. I sat down looking at da sketch uh da symbols on da groun an den it hit me lak uh ton uh gold bricks. I knew where da gold was. " Mary, come ovuh heayuh quick! Look. We found da wagon wheel an we kn ow da othuh pictcha is da tree. It's gotta be. Dat leaves deze three dots an f rom what I remembuh uh da plantation da only thing dat would be in dat place in relation to da tree an dis wagon wheel is ya fambly cemetery. I bet ol man Whit lock buried it in da fambly cemetery, an da grave stone dat's got doze three dot

s on it is got ta be where it's at. Dat's not good, not good at all. We'll hav e ta go through deyuh ta get ta da slave cemetery. Which means da Doma is likel y ta have spells uh protecshun laid out all ovuh dat place. " " What's that mean? " " It means dat he'll know we're comin. " -+I pulled into the Whitlock Plantation parking lot and didn't have any tr ouble finding a spot. The place was dead. I got out and looked around. The da y had started out sunny and warm but the sky was beginning to become overcast an d looked pretty convinclingly like rain. The morning weather report had not sai d anything about rain so I figured it was just a tease from God. The last storm dumped so much water so fast that the ground hadn't even had time to absorb any of it. This was just another tease. The drought would probably continue until we all shrivelled up an died, I thought. Maybe it's best. I walked up to the main doors, crossing underneath the crime scene tape, ignored the closed sign a nd knocked. I could hear the sound of knuckles against the thick wooden door re verberate lifelessly from within and I waited for someone to answer the door. L ooks could sure be deceiving. A multi million dollar mansion with so much pain and misery hidden within it's walls. I knocked again. After several more minutes a man came to the door. He was heavy set, hi s hair cropped tightly around his ears very neatly, almost military style. He d id not look like the type to run a museum. " Yes, may I help you? " " Yes..." I paused to take another look at his face and his dark, deep s et eyes. There was something familiar about them. " My name is Detective Devos s from the Savannah Police Department. I've been assigned to the homicide case investigating the murder of Mr. Gershwin. I'd like to come in and have another look around. " " Absolutely. Come right in. We're eager to help as much as we can Det ective. My name is Albert Hopkins. I'll be the new museum curator until they c an find someone permanently. You know I just can't believe something like this has happened again at this plantation. It all seems so incredible. You know th e sad thing about it is that our traffic will grow exponentially . We've alread y been getting more calls for tours than we can handle. People can be so sadist ic. I guess it's the same mentallity that makes people want to watch an acciden t or go to those awful horror films they put on these days. " I stopped in the foyer to give him time to finish venting. " I guess so . Mr....uh...Hopkins was it? You're with the City then? I wasn't given your n ame as a contact. I thought I was supposed to speak with a lady by the name of J ohnson? " " Well, things have been pretty confusing today trying to decide what to do after all of this has happened. Mrs. Johnson was here earlier today but she 'll be tied up in meetings all day. I'll be staying here at the plantation unt il other arrangements can be made. What can I do for you today Detective? " " I'd just like to look around if I could. If I need you, where will yo u be? " " I'll be upstairs going through Mr. Gershwin's things. Poor man didn't have any family. This museum was all he had. Sad. Sad. Well, just give a sh out if you need me. " " Thank you, I will. " He smiled and almost reluctantly left me alone. I found my way back to the kitchen where the murder had taken place. The doorway was taped off and I s tepped under it and looked around the room. The chalk outline was still on the blood stained floor, but something just wasn't right. If Mr. Anderson had attac ked Mr. Gershwin from the front there would be more signs of a struggle, but the kitchen was undisturbed. Everything was neat as a pin. No apparent struggle. It was as if Mr. Gershwin had just laid down on the kitchen floor to take a nap . The coroner's report had come in early in the morning. No contusions...no s truggle...no cuts other than nine stab wounds to the upper torso...no struggle.

If Mr. Anderson had attacked him so viciously, why had Mr. Gershwin not resiste d? Why would you lay there and let someone stab you nine times? It felt like I might go insane trying to make sense of it all. Then I thought of the book. Mr. Anderson had mentioned a book that Mr. Gershwin was showing him before they went out to look at a tree. Maybe that hel d some answers. Where did he say they were at when they were looking at the boo k? The sitting room, I believe. I turned away from the kitchen and began to wi nd my way through the corridors to the sitting room thinking to myself how could anyone live in such a big house? It felt like a mausoleum, even more so now th at there was so much death in the place. The feeling of death still lingered in the air. I had been around so much violence and death since entering the polic e force that I thought I had become immune to it, but not here. Somehow there w as something different here. Something more malevolent. I couldn't put my fing er on it. I just wanted to hurry up, find what I needed and get outside. The sitting room was immaculate like the rest of the house. The events of the previous night seemed to have been dusted and polished away. I knew that at least fifty police officers had tracked throughout the house last night, but today there was no trace of any of it. Everything was neatly put back in it's place. I wondered when a cleaning crew had had time to clean since yesterday bu t I dismissed the thought as I scanned the room for the book Mr. Anderson had me ntioned, but it was nowhere to be seen. Someone must have returned it to its pl ace. Perhaps the library. I gave a grunt of aggravation and headed for the lib rary where shelves and more shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books that probably hadn't been read in years. I ran my hand along the spines of several l eather bound, obviously expensive, books and marvelled at how meticulously each one had been placed on the shelf. I estimated that there were probably three th ousand books lining the four walls and I quickly realized I would be here for da ys trying to find the right one. There was no dewey decimal system here. Someo ne had them arranged quite precisely, but I couldn't figure the system out. I w as forced to go ask Mr. Hopkins for help. Taking another look around the librar y, I turned to leave but, as I did, one of the doors that led off the library su ddenly opened with a click. I thought I was alone, but there was no way the doo r could have come open by itself. " Hello? " I asked, instinctively checking for my revolver beneath my ja cket. Something about the house made me uneasy and I slowly walked toward the o pen door as if I was a rooky making my first drug bust. My heart was racing by the time I reached the doorway. Inside was a large office with a huge mohogany desk set in the center of the room with two posh leather chairs facing the desk and another leather chair behind the desk. The room was fantastic, the ideal pl ace to conduct business for a multi millionare tycoon type person and for a mome nt I had the urge to go sit behind the desk like a little kid, but that thought left me when I saw the man standing outside the large window behind the desk. H e was dressed in an outdated looking tuxedo with tails, white gloves and a bow t ie. I would have thought he was a member of the staff had it not been for the w ay his head flopped to one side and his eyes stared blankly from sunken sockets. I gasped and staggered backwards pulling my revolver out from underneath my ja cket. I took aim at the window but the man had disappeared. I ran to the windo w, my eyes searching the neatly groomed lawn and bushes for any sign of him, but there was nothing. No one. I shivered. I must be tired, I thought. This pla ce was starting to get to me. Ghosts. I tried to laugh at myself. I put my gu n back and left the office and closed the door. I quickly made my way back to the entrance hall and stared up the long c urved stair case. Mr. Hopkins said he'd be upstairs. " Mr. Hopkins? " I called up, but my voice seemed to trail off and get lost somewhere before it reached to top step. I was sure he couldn't have heard me, so I climbed the steps one at a time studying the paintings that lined the wall as I ascended. At the top a small landing led through a doorway which opene d into an empty hallway that turned left and right. Closed doors were set into the wall in either direction. Left or right, I wondered. " Mr. Hopkins? " I asked again, my voice weaker this time, as my breath

became shorter. It was as if there were less oxygen at this altitude. I began to feel like I might suffocate. " Mr. Hopkins? I need some assistance, please. " Still no response. THUD. The noise made me jump and I turned to stare down the hallway to the left. At the far end of the passageway a door opened into a nother hallway with more rooms beyond. THUD. I assumed the noise was Mr. Hopkin s going through Mr. Gershwin's things, possibly dropping a box onto the floor. He just couldn't hear me. I walked down the hall toward the noise and about hal fway down I had to step over a velour rope meant to keep out the tourists. A sm all sign on a brass pole against the wall warned that it was an employee area on ly...DO NOT ENTER. " Mr. Hopkins? " I continued down the hallway listening carefully, trying to determine wh ich room he was in. At the end of the passage I heard the sound more distinctly . THUD... but then there was another sound, a squishing sound as if someone wer e stepping in thick mud. A very strange sound. I couldn't imagine what could m ake such a sound. I looked up and down another small hallway that branched off from the main passage and could tell from my position which door the noises were coming from. To the right there was one door on the left and another at the en d of that hall. The sound came from the first door on the left. I stepped up t o it and listened. Where there had been sounds, now there was only silence. I r aised my hand and knocked. Just as my knuckles touched wood I could have sworn that I heard a voice whispered from the other side. An indistinct voice. " Hello? Mr. Hopkins? " The door opened. The room was dark and the door swung silently opened. There was no one standing at the door. I peeked inside. " Hello? " I reached for my handgun in response to a chill that started at the back of my neck and tingled it's way down to my feet. As I walked furth er into the room I saw a large four poster bed to my right, a big oak dresser an d mirror on the left. The bed was not empty. I moved closer to see who was lyi ng on the bed. The curtains were drawn, but enough light entered the room for m e to easily recognize Officer Carlson lying lifelessly on the bed next to a woma n dressed in a blue jacket and skirt. Both bodies were laid out on the bed as i f they were on display during a funeral wake, but their eyes stared lifelessly t oward the ceiling. I pulled my gun completely out of it's holster and pointed i t around the room. I wasn't sure what was happening. My heart pounded in my h ead. I heard the noise again. THUD....SQUISH... The sound came from another door on the far wall. I skipped quietly to it keeping my gun at the ready, pressing my body against the exterior wall with the window. I put my hand on the door handle and counted mentally. One....Two. ..Three!! I opened the door and jumped into the room pointing my gun at the fi rst thing I could see in the dim light. There was Mr. Hopkins leaning against t he wall, his head looking toward the ceiling and his mouth opened wide in an unn atural way as if he were going to scream, but there was no sound. It took me a second to realize that there was something in his mouth, or coming out of his mo uth. Squirming and wiggling it's way out like an enormous worm with a bulbous h ead at the top. I screamed and fired my gun at it. I was terrified. Tears bur ned my eyes. I fired all six rounds as I bumped my way backwards out of the roo m. I couldn't tell if any of my shots hit their target. I tripped and fell bac k onto the bed and the two bodies. The stench was horrible. As I tried to get up, I saw a figure, black and shapeless, hovering above my head and then before my mind could react I felt a sting upon my forehead. My muscles stopped working , and blackness engulfed me. I knew then that I must be dead. -+" How much further do we have to go Patience? My arms and legs are sore and bleeding and if I tear my clothes any more I think they'll fall off! " " Keep ya breeches on, girl. Dog's got four foot, but can't walk but on e road! " I said as we trudged through yet anothuh thicket uh briers. I couldn' t remembuh deyuh bein so many uh deze thorn bushes out heyuh in da woods. It wa s as if dark forces had caused them to grow up around da place lak uh barbed wir e fence ta keep out unwanted trespassuh's. Aftuh we had left da boat house and

come ta da realization dat da gold was most likely inside da fambly cemetery we decided ta go around it so as not to alert da Doma to aw presence on da plantati on. Dis was not as easy as we had thought. Da day was burnin up an it would so on be gettin late and I did not want ta get caught out heyuh aftuh dark. Sunlig ht gave me a sense uh security. I only hoped it wasn't a false one. " It's just these blasted thorns! I feel like screaming! " " We have ta go around da fambly cemetery an dat means go through deze b riers. It's da only chance we have ta keep aw presence hidden from da Doma. I think dat most of it's protectshun spells would have been put at da plantation e ntrance so hopefully, it didn't expect dat we'd come in from da woods, so I thin k fo now we're safe. " Da sky had become dark wit clouds an a cool breeze had begun ta whistle through da leaves, but it was anythin but peaceful. It was lak deyuh was uh pre sence in da woods dat was watchin us. Mary noticed it too an whenevuh I looked back I saw huh eyes glancin around nervously. Da furthuh we went, fightin aw wa y untraveled territory da darkuh da sky became. As we emerged into anothuh smal l clearing I stopped to look around at da ground which heaved up in strange plac es. Trees seemed mo' tangled heyuh dan dey had been and huge, gnarled oak branc hes hung above aw heads at such precarious angles dat I thought dey might break an fall at any moment, killing us dead. I began to take mo' cautious steps. " Dis ain't good, Mary. I must have miscalculated..." " What do you mean? " " Somehow we've ended up in da fambly cemetery. I think I recognize dez e 'ol oaks an da lay uh da land heyuh seems familiar too. We'll know for sho up deyuh, on da othuh side uh deze trees. " I led da way, nearly stumblin sev'al times on da uneven ground. All dou bts, howevuh, disappeared once we came out uh da thicket uh trees. Grave stones dotted uh small clearing which was surrounded by a wrought iron fence tangled w it vines an weeds. Some uh da stones was small an unobtrusive but othuhs was bi g an ornate. Some had intricate carvings and beautiful statues dat had become c overed in moss an weathered by time. " We need ta get outa heyuh as quickly as possible Mary. Somehow I must have lost ma bearins. It's been so long since I been out heyuh. Come on. " I said, tuggin at huh elbow, but she wouldn't move. " I want to see my parents graves. " " I don't think dat'd be uh good idea, Mary. Let's take care uh dis Dom a first, den we can come back an you can visit wit ya Momma an Daddy as long as ya lak. " " I need to see them now, Patience. Please..." " No, Mary. You don't know what we're dealin wit heyuh. Dis creature w ill kill us all if it catches us. It's ma fault dat I got us heyuh by accident but I won't be responsible fa riskin you aw Jarod by lettin ya go inside dat cem etery. We need ta go ta da slave cemetery first. Now, follow me. " She finall y seemed ta aquiesce ta ma request an we began ta walk again. As we walked around da fence, I noticed Mary's eyes stayed glued ta da g rave stones until we passed da small iron gate which lay askew on it's hinges. Huh face became pale an she stopped again as if huh feet had become planted in da ground. " What is it, Mary? Let's keep movin sweety. Please don't stop. " Befo I knew what was happenin somethin hard hit ma shoulder. " Ow! " I cried. Then uh rock hit da ground near ma foot. Someone was throwin rocks at u s. Mary stayed motionless starin into da graveyahd an was oblivious to what was happenin, huh face was frozen in a blank stare. I turned dis way an dat tryin t a see who was throwin rocks at us, but da woods was still an quiet. Mo rocks we re hurled at us from da shadows uh da forest. I raised ma purse fa some protec tshun just uh large stone bounced off it rathuh than ma head. I turned ta find some sheltuh against the pelting rocks an dat's when da iron gate opened of it's own accord. It's rusty hinges screeched lak uh demon as it opened. More rocks hit us and clanged against da metal fence ringin lak church bells, but Mary see

med oblivious to it all. " Mary come on! Let's get outa heyuh! Please! " " Momma... " was all she said. Da rocks seemed to come harduh, rainin d own on us lak uh hail storm. I couldn't tell from which direction dey was comin but as I turned ma head ta scan da cemetery I knew what Mary was lookin at. Mr s. Whitlock stood in da centuh uh da grave yahd near one uh da larger head stone s. Huh face painted wit uh smile, aa'ms were open beckoning to huh daughtuh. S he was dressed jis as she had been da day she died an I nearly fell ta da ground when I saw huh. I was transfixed...paralyzed. She had always intimidated me so as uh young gal, an fo uh brief moment, seein huh ghost made me feel lak I wa s sixteen again as if she might say, " Patience, we've told you not to bring Mar y this far out in the woods! " But then I noticed Mrs. Whitlock's eyes starin blankly out of huh skull. " Mary, don't..." I staht'd jis as uh rock stuck me on da back uh da hea d causin me ta nearly lose consciousness. I stagguh'd forward but managed ta ke ep masef from fallin by grabbin da rusty fence. Ma head was spinnin wit pain. I feared we had stepped inta anothuh trap. Mrs. Whitlock moved tawd Mary as if she was floatin upon uh cloud uh mist above da ground. Quickly, almost witout thinkin, I reached ma hand inta ma skirt pocket an pulled out ma piece uh lighte nin struck tree bark. I threw it as hard as I could tawd Mrs. Whitlock... " Be gone, foul plat-eye! Bim-boga-rum! Mende ngafa! Ma-foo-bey, ma-foo -bey!!" Aunt Melsini's words spilled from ma mout. I watched as da spectre uh Mrs. Whitlock seemed ta evaporate befo ma eye s. Mary stood jis steps away from da entrance uh da cemetery, lookin around, da zed and confused. " Dat won't ya Momma, Mary. Da Doma has laid uh trap fa us. We gotta g o now! " but, jis as I said dat I looked to ma right at one of da larger mauso leums and noticed, carved above a small alcove set wit uh statue of a small ange l, uh triangle wit three dots set inside. Da same as on da tree, ol man Whitloc k's journal an Mary's drawin. Could it be dat I had found da gold? Was it poss ible dat millions of dolluh's lay buried jis feet from us? I shook ma head an l ooked at Mary again. Gold was da least of aw concerns. " We don't have much t ime. Da Doma is probably comin right now! Come on! " Mary seemed dumbstruck from seein huh momma but I had ta get us outa dey uh, quick. Somehow, I had ta bring huh back ta reality, but as it turned out it was anothuh rock dat did da trick. One hit huh square on da back uh da head wi th uh loud crack. She screamed an fell to huh knees, cryin. I moved to huh lak uh soldier avoidin enemy fire, an bent down tryin ta lift huh back to huh feet. Suttenly, I noticed dat da rock throwin stopped. " We'll come back latuh, sweety. We'll come back an find ya momma an ya daddy, latuh. I promise. But right now ya gotta follow me! Please, come on." As I lifted she managed ta stand, rubbin da back of huh head, still cryin. D a rocks had mysteriously stopped peltin us an da woods was still quiet, not uh s ign of anyone aw anythin. Luckily we had not entered da cemetery itsef, so deyu h was uh slim chance dat da Doma had not been warned dat we were heyuh. Me an M ary slowly moved away from da field uh bones an stones to continue aw search fa da slave cemetery. -+My arraignment went on without a hitch just as I had expected it to. A s a defense attorney I had always found arraignments to be something of a drag, but as a defendant the process took on a whole new meaning. I began to feel so rry for the many clients I had rushed through the process since I began my caree r as a lawyer. They were all scared, not knowing what to expect. I knew what t o expect and I was still scared. I knew that the judge, a grey haired lady poss ibly in her fifties or early sixties, wouldn't be concerned about my case at all , other than beyond the potential television exposure from the horde of photogra phers that had gathered in the outer hallway. I feared that due to the severity of the charges against me I might be remanded or denied bail, but luckily I was able to get my bail set at half a million dollars with the condition that I not

leave Savannah. Some luck, I thought, but at least I derived a small amount of pleasure by getting the judge to agree with me rather than with the snot nosed p rosecutor who had been assigned to my case. The junior prosecuting attorney they 'd sent was a thin young man who looked to be about twenty four and fresh out of college. His jacket hung loosely over his narrow shoulders and the crease of h is pants legs had more crinks than one of Patience's beloved Georgia oak trees, but he turned out to be experienced and savy and able to navigate my case expert ly through the whole process in just under five minutes. It would have been thr ee had I not slowed him up a little by negotiating my bail. I was amazed that e ven during the darker hours it was the smaller pleasures that could mean so much . After I was returned to the jail I was allowed to call one of the local bail bondsmen and 50,000 dollars of savings later I was finally released. I was relieved to know that at least I wouldn't have to sleep on that lumpy mattress any longer and I was anxious to get back to my hotel. Avoiding the press was mo re difficult than I had anticipated, and I was forced to arrange for a cab to pi ck me up at the rear of the building and I managed to make a quick getaway. I w as told my car had been towed to the local impound yard where I would need to pi ck it up. More fees. I almost laughed when I thought about how upset I'd been the other day when Patience had got oil on my new pants. Now I was convinced t hat my career was taking a nose dive and I would be branded forever more across the country as a raving lunatic, even if somehow I was able to get out of this m ess and not go to jail for the rest of my life. I could see my future beginning to evaporate before my eyes. Maybe that same sense of hopelessness had been w hat drove my grandfather to hang himself. I shook that depressing thought from my mind and tried to think about something more positive. Then I remembered wha t Patience had told me about seeing deeper into things. I had to look deeper. What was I missing? The taxi dropped me off at the hotel at about quarter to four in the a fternoon. My room was chilly and almost made me shiver when I'd entered. The a /c had been left on full blast and a strange smell caught my nose as I entered. I paused to look around and I remembered the detective telling me that my mothe r had stayed here for the night, but what on earth was that smell? I wondered i f Patience had returned to the nursing home or had come here with her, so I sat down on the crisply made bed and dialed the phone. " Savannah Heartfeld Nursing Home?" " Hello, I'd like to speak to Patience Lewis, please. Room 224. " There was a long pause. I realized that the woman on the other end of t he line had recognized my voice and was processing the information about who I w as. " I'm sorry sir. Mrs. Lewis is not in her room at the moment. May I as k who is calling? " " Yes, this is Jarod Anderson. I have been...uh...detained, while escor ting Mrs. Lewis and we were seperated. I was wondering if she had returned or n ot. I'm getting concerned about her. " " Mrs. Lewis hasn't returned to the nursing home Mr. Anderson, but she c alled earlier today and informed us that she would not be returning today. She said she had something very important to do that could not be avoided. We're al l really worried about her. " " Me too. Thank you...I..." " Before you hang up Mr. Anderson...uh... I would just like to say on b ehalf of many of us here at the nursing home, that we were all very shocked to h ear about what happened at the Plantation Museum last night, but many of us feel that you couldn't have had anything to do with such a horrible thing. I just t hought you might need to hear that now. " I was dumbstruck and couldn't speak. " I don't know what to say...I...I really appreciate the sentiment. It really means a lot to me to hear that, bu t right now I'm just concerned for Mrs. Lewis. I don't know where she is and I don't think she can take much more of all this excitement. I just want to find her and get her home safely. My cell phone number is 555-6554. Please, give me

a call if she returns. " " I will Mr. Anderson. Good bye. " Well, maybe there was still hope for my career. I hadn't heard from my mother or Patience all day and I was becoming mor e and more worried about them. Who knew what craziness Patience was getting my mother into. My logical side was still searching for some rational explanation for everything that had happened, but nothing else seemed to fit the circumstanc es. I dialed my mother's cell number and sat on the edge of the bed. I half e xpected to hear that strange voice again but by some miracle my mother answered. " Hello? " " Mom? Where in God's name are you? I just got back to the hotel. I'v e tried your phone several times today and just keep getting your voice mail. " " Oh, Jarod. Thank God your alright. Tell me what's going on. " " I'm alright. I got out on bail. I think the detective, what's his na me, Devoss, believes me, but whoever did this has really made me look bad. If I don't come up with something concrete there's a possibility I could go to jail for a long time. Is Patience with you? I've been worried about you both. What are you doing? Why didn't you answer your phone? " " I don't know how long I'll get a signal out here. This is the first t ime this damned phone has rung all day. " " Where's 'out here'? " " Well....we're back at the plantation..." " What? It's dangerous out there. You've got to get out of there right now! " I remembered my mother's panicked voice when I told her that I was goin g to the plantation for the tour. I was sounding the same. " Put Patience on t he phone. " " Alright..." there was a pause and then Patience's voice came on the l ine. " Jayrud? Is dat you? We been so worried 'bout you boy. Now listen ta me. Dose candles is still in ya room, Jayrud. I thing now would be a good tim e ta burn 'em. We need all da hep we can get. " " What on earth are you guys doing there? " " I can't tell ya that but ya got ta promise me dat you'll stay right de yuh. Burn dem candles an don't leave da hotel. Promise me dat. " " No. You need to promise me that you'll get out of there now. Get bac k to the hotel. It's not safe out there. " " We'll be alrigh....." suddenly Patience's voice was cut off by a loud screech that nearly deafened me. I jerked the phone away from my ear until the sound stopped. " Patience? Hello? " There was silence on the line but I coul d tell that the connection was still open. " Patience? " There was still no response but the hair on the back of my neck seemed t o carry an electric charge through my spine. I shivered as I listened for any s ign that Patience might still be on the line but I knew there was someone else l istening to me. Patience had gone. I felt like my thoughts were spilling from my ear into the phone as if they were being siphoned away. Quickly, without thi nking I disconnected the call. My heart began to pound and I knew in my gut tha t my mother and Patience were in terrible danger. I had to do something to help them. I looked around the room and saw the candles still lying on the dresser. I walked over to the dresser and picked them up and studied them. How could t hese be of any help. Why was I even contemplating their potential to do anythin g other that to provide a meager flame? I closed my eyes and held the candles t rying to think what to do...throw them in the drawer or give in to Patience's de lusion. Shaking my head, I stood up and walked into the bathroom. I could burn the candles on the bathroom counter, but that would require matches and since I requested a non-smoking room I figured I would need to call the lobby and ask i f they had any. I dialed the hotel phone and waited for someone to answer. " Front desk. This is Jeremy. " " Jeremy, this is room ####. I was wondering if you had any matches. " " Room #### is a non smoking room sir, but I am glad you called. One of

our cleaning staff reported to us earlier this morning that your room was left in a terrible mess and required additional cleaning. I have to inform you there will be an extra charge on your bill for that and we would like to request that that not occur in the future or you will be asked to leave. Your presence has already inconvenienced the staff due to all the media attention but the hotel ma nager has agreed to let you stay for now. " " Gee, thanks. Listen, all I need right now are some matches and I won' t be smoking in the room. " " I'm sorry but we don't have any matches. Will you be needing anything else?" " No, thank you. You've been very helpful. " I hung the phone up and w ondered what on earth Patience and Mom could have been up to. What sort of mess was he talking about? The room did smell a little strange. Anyway, I gave up on the idea of burning the candles. I was being silly. Someone had keep their wits about them before someone else gets hurt. My mind raced as I tried to figu re out what to do. How could I help Patience and my mother? Then the idea hit me. I picked up my phone and dug around in my pockets until I came up with what I needed. I dialed the number from the business card and waited for an answer but after several rings a voice mail greeting prompted me to leave a message. " You've reached Detective Devoss. I'm unable to take your call just no w but if you'll leave your name and number I'll get back with you as soon as pos sible. If it's an emergency dial 911. Thanks....BEEP " " Yeah, Detective. This is Jarod Anderson. I've got a problem, like I don't have enough, but I was hoping you could help me out. I think right now yo u're the only one I can turn to in this matter. Something tells me I can trust you. Please call my cell at 1-555-555-4545. It's really important. Thanks. " I hung up. I didn't know what else to do now but go to the plantation t o get those two crazy women out of there before they got themselves killed. -+-